A Very Special Need

Thank God she would now be in a position to pay for his treatment!

It was a little after four when the peace and tranquillity of the big house came to a grinding halt. Utopia was shattered with the slamming of a door and the thunder of footsteps up the stairs behind her.

‘Hi, Christine,’ a voice yelled, and then the footsteps slowed, stopped and started down again in the other direction. Judith turned her head and found herself face to face with a boy of about Edward’s age. And there, she thought wryly, the similarities ended.

He was a little taller, slim but muscular, and sported a superficial arrogance which she was sure was just a front. God forbid she should dare to mention such a thing, however! His mid-brown hair was just like his father’s but a little darker, his features were a younger version as well but the eyes were startlingly and exactly the same vivid blue.

‘Where’s Christine?’ he asked abruptly.

Judith blinked. ‘In hospital. She’s had her baby.’

‘Blimey. That was quick. She was here this morning. Are you from the agency?’

‘No. I’m the mother of a patient, but your father—I take it Mr Barber is your father?’ she checked, just to be on the safe side. The boy gave a quick nod, and she continued, ‘Your father offered me the job as I was here and available. Incidentally, if you go into the snug you’ll meet my son, Edward. He’s taking up rather a lot of your settee, I’m afraid, but he’s messed his back up. That’s why we were here.’

‘Oh. Right.’ The boy shoved a hand through his hair in a perfect reflection of his father’s own gesture and turned on his heel. ‘I’m going upstairs—Toots is in the kitchen. Keep an eye on her, could you?’

Toots? Who—or what—was Toots? And how was she supposed to keep an eye on her and watch the desk at the same time? Oh, well. She left the desk and went through to the kitchen. A little girl was in there, balanced on the edge of the worktop, rummaging in a cupboard. Judith didn’t want to speak for fear of making her jump and lose her balance so she stood by the door and waited as the child prodded about amongst the tins and packets.

Finally she came out triumphantly with a packet of chocolate digestives clutched in her hand and jumped down onto the floor, the long fair hair which was escaping from a rather tired ponytail bouncing and swaying as she landed. Then she turned and caught sight of Judith, and instinctively and instantly hid the biscuits behind her back.

Then with a total absence of guile she looked straight at Judith with those astonishing blue eyes and said, ‘Who are you?’

‘My name’s Judith. I’m the new receptionist.’

‘Oh. Where’s Christine?’

‘She’s had her baby.’

The child’s head tilted slightly, and she suddenly looked a little fearful. ‘Is she all right?’

Judith smiled and propped herself against the end of the sofa. ‘Yes, she’s fine. She’s gone to hospital to rest for a day or so. She had a boy.’

The little nose curled. ‘Yuck. Poor Christine.’ She chewed her lip. ‘She is alive, isn’t she?’

What an odd question. ‘Yes, darling, of course she’s alive.’

‘My mummy’s dead,’ she confided.

‘I’m sorry,’ Judith said gently, one of her questions answered. ‘That must be hard. Do you miss her?’

‘No. She died when I was born.’ Which, Judith realised, explained the strange question. ‘I’m seven,’ Toots added inconsequentially. ‘Have you got any children?’

‘Yes, Edward. He’s in the snug at the moment.’

‘A boy?’

The child’s disappointment was so obvious Judith almost laughed. ‘I’m afraid so,’ she said with a wry grin. ‘He’s a nice boy, though. You might surprise yourself and like him.’ She looked at the hand still hidden behind the child’s back.

‘Are you Toots?’

The little nose curled again with delicate disdain. ‘My real name’s Alice.’

‘Well, Alice, why don’t I put the kettle on and make us all a cup of tea? Or you could have milk or orange squash or whatever you usually have, and we can all have some of those biscuits you’ve got there.’

The child pulled the biscuits out and looked at them as if she’d never seen them before in her life. ‘These biscuits?’ she said innocently.

Judith hid the smile. ‘Mmm. Would that be a good idea?’

Alice looked at her with guileless blue eyes and smiled. ‘OK. Has Daddy got many more patients tonight?’

‘About three,’ Judith told her, ‘but I’m sure you won’t have to wait that long to have a biscuit—’

‘Hi, Toots, what’re you up to, tinker?’

Alice threw herself across the room into her father’s arms and hugged him. ‘Hi, Daddy. I helped Judith find some biscuits for us all,’ she lied, and gave him the benefit of her megawatt smile.

He melted like ice cream in the sun. ‘Well, what a nice idea. Are we going to have tea? Can you manage to put the kettle on, Toots?’

‘Course I can.’

Hugh looked at Judith. ‘I’ve dealt with Mrs Fraser. Mr Parkin isn’t here yet, but he’s so often late I’m not surprised. How’s it going?’

‘Fine.’ She smiled. ‘Excellent, I think. I hope I haven’t made any howlers.’

He grinned, shedding years in the process and doing her blood pressure irreparable harm. ‘I doubt it. Look, I tell you what, why don’t you and Woody stay for supper and let me go through the ropes with you so you’re all ready for Monday?’

‘Oh.’ She smiled weakly, still busily in the grip of her heightened blood pressure. Supper? Was that such a good idea? Good grief, girl, get a grip, she told herself. It’s hardly a date! ‘That would be very sensible, but I’d hate you to go to any trouble—’

‘That’s OK. We’ll get a pizza delivered—we often do. Housekeeping isn’t my best thing. Then we can really concentrate.’

There was a crashing sound from the hall and the kitchen door was hurled back on its hinges. ‘Anything to eat in this place? I’m starving.’

Hugh raised an eyebrow a fraction. ‘Hello, Martin. Good day at school?’

‘Passable. Can I have a sandwich—hey, Toots, where did you get the biscuits from?’

‘I helped Judith—’ She caught Judith’s eye and amended, ‘They were in the top cupboard.’

Judith gave an almost invisible wink of approval, and Alice grinned just a tiny bit. Good, Judith thought. She knows I don’t approve, and she also knows I won’t rat on her.

Martin was looking at the sofa as he ripped open the biscuit packet. ‘Where are the cushions?’ he asked curiously.

‘In the garden, drying off. I washed them,’ Judith explained.

‘Why?’ Alice asked, as if washing anything was a totally foreign idea.

‘Because that’s where Christine had her baby,’ Hugh explained, ‘and they got a little bit wet. You remember what I told you about babies in tummies being in a sort of paddling pool? Well, when the baby’s born the paddling pool empties—’