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
day at
approach the subject, I speak carefully. “How
When they had me prisoner
to keep talking but is interrupted by a tap on
“May I come in?”
her clothes, turning slightly,
Not ‘Dad’…
Not yet…
much more healing to do
as he sees me. “Oh... I didn’t mean to interrupt…” He has something in his hand; small, but bright with gilt
interrupting,” smiles Charlotte. “We were
from
“It’s fine, Kirstie.” She waves across the room to another chair. “Pull up
you. A Christmas gift…” He stares at his feet, then looks up again. “… I had no idea what it should be; what would be appropriate. You already seem to have everything in your life. A home. Money.
offers the package to Charlotte.
package is small, square
A CD?
Odd choice…
daughter and
expression, I’m not the only one to think
Cara, wrapping the shawl around her. “Could you take her for a
slides the ribbons to
yes, it’s
Charlotte presses a knuckle to her mouth, raising her gaze
reaction. “What is
She’s shiny-eyed. “Scheherazade.”
the ice is cracking under him. “I had no idea what to give
lap, she drops her face into her hands, gasping and sobbing. I want to hug her,
thumping of feet, and our own door crashes open, James
his ribs, like the
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