Cara, quiet in her carrycot, begins to fuss. James casts an eye across. “I’ll take over those carrots, Charlotte.”
“I thought you wanted help making the meal?”
He takes a carrot from her hand, prises the peeler from the other. “There are plenty of us here to help with lunch. Only you can provide Cara's. And besides, we’re nearly done here. I’m going for a shower in a minute. Why don’t you take Cara up to the nursery? You’ll be warm and quiet there.”
He stoops, lifting the tiny girl out from her blankets. She barely fills his hands as, supporting her head in one palm, he cradles her to his chest. “Kirstie, would you go with Charlotte, please. Keep her company while she gives Cara her feed.”
But I’m barely listening to his words. The expression on James’ face as he holds Cara…
Love…
Adoration…
Utter devotion…
The expression seems completely out of keeping with the front James projects; the stern-faced Dom. But I know him well enough to know that front conceals a man of strong passions and utter loyalty.
God help anyone that threatens her…
Cara’s fussing grows louder. Abandoning my chestnuts, “Can I hold her? I’ll carry her upstairs for you.”
Charlotte eases up out of her seat and grins, looking much more herself. “Sure. She’s getting used to having a lot of people around her.”
With only the slightest hesitation, James releases Cara to me. “It’s good for her; learning there’s a lot of people she can trust.”
Although still so small, Cara is heavier than I’d expected and I hold her carefully, supporting her head in the way I saw James doing. Her face, already red, is colouring up further and her fussing is turning to a wail. “Definitely ready for her lunch, I think.”
Maybe it would be nice to have one of these of my own…
Then I realise that from across the kitchen, Ryan, peeling parsnips, is watching me.
*****
I sit with Charlotte and Cara in the nursery, taking in the mass of murals, colourful and bright, occupying the walls. Mobiles hang from the ceiling, dangling birds and horses and little bells which sway and tinkle with the slightest movement.
From outside comes the slam of a car door.
More visitors?
still pale but a touch of pink blushes over her
a day
to how I approach the subject, I
“I’m getting better. I’m not coughing much now.” She strokes Cara’s face, very gently, not disturbing her daughter from her meal. “The important thing is that Cara is healthy. When they had me prisoner in there, yes, it was awful,
to keep talking but is interrupted by a tap
“May I come in?”
turning
Not ‘Dad’…
Not yet…
more healing
didn’t mean to interrupt…” He has something in his
smiles Charlotte. “We
start to rise from my
She waves across the room to another chair. “Pull up a
feet, then looks up again. “… I had
the package to
small,
A CD?
Odd choice…
daughter
baffled expression, I’m not the only
her. “Could you
Klempner’s gift, then slides the ribbons to one
it’s
her
reaction. “What
She’s shiny-eyed. “Scheherazade.”
as though the ice is cracking under him. “I had no idea what to give you, Jenny. But I did want to give you
gasping and sobbing. I want to hug her, to ask her what’s wrong, but I have Cara in my arms. Klempner simply stands, looking
thumping of feet, and
circular bruises are centred over his ribs, like the worst squash-ball impact you ever saw.
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