Bound By Their Babies

‘Where Mummy?’

He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked her up again. ‘She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s had to go away so you’re going to come and live with me all the time now, and I’m not going anywhere,’ he said softly, propping her on the worktop while he dealt with the landlord, then he threw all the things Jo had left for Matilda into the bags he’d brought with him, scooped his daughter up again and walked out, seething with anger, disappointment, regret—a whole catalogue of conflicting emotions that had already kept him awake half the night.

Now all he had to do was talk to HR and work out how he was going to juggle his job and childcare commitments, but first he needed a friendly ear—and a shoulder to cry on?

No point in crying over spilt milk, even if it felt like Jo had dumped an entire dairy on his head. But the friendly ear he could definitely do with.

* * *

Emily was trying to stop Zach spreading banana everywhere when her phone rang for the second time in quick succession. She nearly didn’t answer it, but Zach had finished eating now, so she wiped her fingers and pulled the phone out of her pocket.

‘Jake, give me a second. I’m covered in banana.’

There was a muffled laugh from the other end, and she turned on the speaker and grabbed the wet wipe that Zach was stuffing in his mouth. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You have no idea how far he can spread it. So, how goes it?’

Another laugh, this time wry. ‘Not great. Look, I’m not far from you. Can I drop in and scrounge a coffee?’

‘Yeah, sure. Jake, are you OK?’

‘Not really. I’ll tell you in a minute. Stick the kettle on.’

‘Will do. Grab some milk, please? I’m almost out.’

‘OK. See you shortly.’

The phone went dead, and she stared at it, then shrugged and handed Zach a toy to play with while she cleared up the sitting room and worried about Jake.

He’d sounded odd. Sort of taut, like he was about to snap, which was so unlike him. He was always so easy-going, so relaxed and unfazed by anything. Chewing her lip, she plumped the cushions, scooped up the washing she’d been sorting, dumped it back in the basket and went back to tackle the kitchen.

She’d just finished loading the dishwasher when she heard him pull up, and she opened the front door as he got out of the car with a shopping bag in his hand. ‘That was quick,’ she began, but then she saw his expression and the words dried up in her throat.

He looked awful.

His face was a mask, the tension coming off him in waves, and she pulled him inside, put her arms around him and hugged him hard.

‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked softly, and she felt the sigh shudder through him.

‘Jo’s dumped Matilda with me—well, strictly speaking she left her in the hospital café—and she’s walked out of her life.’

Emily felt her jaw drop and she let him go and took a step back so she could read his eyes, and saw confusion and white-hot rage. ‘She what? How? Why?’

His shoulders jerked in a shrug. ‘Who knows? She’s gone travelling, of all things. She left me a note in the buggy apologising. She’s got a new man, apparently, and the landlord said they were picked up by some dude with a battered old campervan, so presumably that’s him. God knows what she’s done with the car I bought her. Sold it to fund the travelling, I expect, and she also owed rent that I had to pay, and cleaned out my savings account.’

‘That’s outrageous!’

‘Tell me about it, but that’s not what’s making me so mad. Don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m not thrilled, but it’s only money. It’s the fact that she just abandoned Matilda in the café that makes me so furious. Thank goodness Ben Walker was there. Apparently she saw his name badge and realised who he was, so she introduced herself and asked him to keep an eye on Tilly while she put a ticket on the car, and then she didn’t come back. What if he hadn’t been there, Em? Was she just going to rely on someone finding the envelope before something dreadful happened to her? What if she’d been abducted?’

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m so angry I don’t know where to start, but she said she couldn’t tell me because I’d talk her out of it and she knew this was the best thing for everyone. I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t take Matilda with her—oh, and the icing on the cake is she wants to keep in touch. Well, we’ll see about that,’ he added furiously, finally grinding to a halt.

‘Oh, Jake,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry. How is Matilda? Is she all right?’

Another shrug. ‘I suppose. A bit unsettled but she’s used to being with me so she’s not too bad—yet. How she’ll be down the line I have no idea. We’ve just come from the house and she was wandering round asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’

‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’

‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’

‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’

* * *

She took the coffee through to the sitting room where Jake was perched on the sofa staring at the floor, Matilda at his feet building a tower with stacking cups while Zach watched her intently.

‘Hey,’ she said softly, and Jake looked up and met her eyes, his own filled with a worry that he wasn’t even trying to disguise. At least the anger was gone, for now at least, but he just looked desperate and she wanted to hug him. She perched next to him and handed him his coffee and one of the gooey chocolate cookies instead.

‘That’s my second.’

‘Who’s counting? So, what are you going to do?’ she asked, keeping her voice to a low murmur, and he shrugged helplessly.

‘I don’t know. I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do. I’m on carer’s leave at the moment but that’s just crisis management and it can only be for a maximum of ten days, besides which we’re short-staffed as it is, and I don’t want to use the nursery. It seems wrong, when she’s just been abandoned by her mother. What if she thought I’d abandoned her, too? What if she hates it? And anyway, I work crazy hours. She’d practically have to live there, and what about nights when I’m on call? The only way round it is to find a full-time nanny, and they don’t grow on trees, and what the hell do I do in the meantime?’

‘I’ll come and stay,’ she said without a second thought, and it shocked him into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head, the hope that she’d seen in his troubled eyes replaced by despair.

‘No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.’

‘You’re not, I’m volunteering, and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me since Pete died, not to mention the rest of the last twenty years. It’ll get you out of a fix in the short term, give you time to think.’

‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve done nothing but think since yesterday afternoon. There isn’t an answer, Em, and this certainly isn’t it.’

‘No, not long term, of course it isn’t, but I’m still on maternity leave until the middle of June, I’m not doing anything else and how much harder can it be to look after two babies than one?’ she asked, lifting Zach up before he lunged at the plastic cups Matilda had carefully stacked and knocked them all down.

‘Matilda’s not a baby. She can be—’

‘A two-year-old?’ she asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed despairingly.

‘Yes. Exactly. And there are the practicalities, like I haven’t got a cot any longer because she’s in a bed.’

‘I’ve got a travel cot for Zach, and we can buy a double buggy from somewhere if we need to, so I can take them out. It’s not an issue, Jake, and it’s not as if we haven’t lived together before. We’re both house-trained. I’m sure we’ll survive. And you can get your life back on track and stop worrying about letting everyone down while you work out what to do next.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. I want to. Please, let me help you.’

He held her eyes for the longest moment, then let out a defeated sigh and nodded. ‘OK. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end I wouldn’t let you do this, but if you’re really sure, it would be amazing. So—when are we talking about? Next week?’

She laughed. ‘I was thinking today? My fridge is all but empty, and it seems like a good time to do it.’

His mouth twitched into what could have been a smile. ‘I have to tell you my fridge isn’t a lot better, but I can soon fix that. I’ll take Matilda shopping and make the bed, and I’ll see you later, if you’re really sure?’