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?
pale but a touch of pink blushes over
day at
I approach the subject, I speak carefully. “How are you
Cara is healthy. When they had me
but is
“May I come in?”
turning
Not ‘Dad’…
Not yet…
more healing
“Oh... I didn’t mean to
Charlotte. “We were
from my
But Charlotte waves me down. “It’s fine, Kirstie.” She waves across the room
feet, then looks up again. “… I had no idea what
the package to Charlotte. “Anyway… I
small,
A CD?
Odd choice…
long-estranged daughter and
judging by Charlotte’s baffled expression, I’m not the only one
Cara, wrapping the shawl around her. “Could
reaches to accept Klempner’s gift, then slides the ribbons to one
yes, it’s a music
presses a knuckle to her mouth,
by her reaction. “What is it,
She’s shiny-eyed. “Scheherazade.”
idea what to give you, Jenny. But I did want to give you something, even if
drops her face into her hands, gasping and sobbing. I want to hug her, to ask her what’s wrong, but I have Cara in my arms. Klempner
bang of a door, the thumping of feet, and our own door crashes
circular bruises are centred over his
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