Assignment: Single Father

He’d found her some clean linen and helped her make up the bed, turned up the heating to air the rooms and then left her alone to settle in and count her blessings.

All this after he’d cooked for them all, fed the dogs, supervised homework and chivvied the children through their bedtime routine.

He must be so tired, she thought, so tired and stressed and worried. If her presence here helped him, regardless of what she could do for Chrissie, then she’d feel she’d done her job well.

Nick she wasn’t worried about. Nick was a normal, healthy, well-balanced young boy, and he just needed keeping in order. Well, she could do that. She’d done it for years with her brother.

‘May I ask you something?’ he said quietly, and Fran looked up to find those lovely, haunted eyes studying her face.

‘Of course.’

‘If you were living in London, how come you’re looking for a job up here and haven’t got anywhere to live?’

She’d wondered when it was coming, and thought of lying to him, but somehow she didn’t want to. Anyway, she knew instinctively that he’d be easy to tell.

‘After I stopped working at the hospital I just felt lost. I’d been wandering around aimlessly for days, and I spent yesterday in the park doing more of the same, thinking over your job offer and wondering what to do. I was on my way home because my boyfriend was coming round, and someone was knocked down in front of me in the middle of Camden High Street. And I froze.’

He made a sympathetic noise and she shrugged and carried on. ‘Luckily someone else came along who could help him, so I don’t have to have his death on my conscience, but by the time it was all over and I got back, I was late, of course.’

‘And your boyfriend had got sick of waiting?’

She gave a strangled little laugh. ‘You might say that. He was in bed with my flatmate.’

He said something under his breath in French that she thought was probably rude, and she gave him a wry grin.

‘Quite. So I left. I flung my clothes and a few things into the car, and turned my back on my entire life. I didn’t know where to go, because my parents don’t live here any more. They live in Devon near my brother and his wife, and none of them have any spare room, so I headed up here and camped with Jackie and just hoped your job was still on offer. Jackie’s an old friend from school and nurse training days, and I spent the night with her last night and went to work with her this morning.’

‘And rang me again.’

‘Yes. Then Josh Nicholson tried to talk me into working for him instead.’

Xavier frowned. ‘Josh Nicholson? But he’s still in hospital, surely? He nearly killed himself, just a few days ago.’

‘Quite. Having seen him, I’m only too ready to believe that. Is he a patient of yours?’

‘Yes—and, of course, a well-known public figure. The news was full of it. But, yes, as it happens, I believe he is a patient, though I’ve never had to see him except for inoculations for foreign holidays and so on. He’s never been unwell that I’m aware of.’

‘Oh. Well, he doesn’t look so hot now, so you might want to stand by for an emergency call!’

He laughed under his breath, then his eyes locked on hers again. ‘So this was only—yesterday, is that right, that you found the boyfriend and your flatmate together?’

She nodded slowly. ‘Yes. It seems about three lifetimes ago.’

‘Well, that might be a good thing. Hell, I’m sorry. Was it serious? With the boyfriend?’

She thought of Dan, frivolous and uncommitted, and shook her head. ‘No. It might have been eventually, I suppose, but, then, probably not. I’m not sure he had what it takes to be serious, and I’m not into casual sex.’ She smiled brightly and tried to inject some light humour into her voice. ‘So, anyway, here I am, utterly free, and scared to death.’

She didn’t fool him for an instant. Instead of laughing, as he was supposed to, he smiled understandingly. ‘There’s no need to be scared, Fran. You have a home now, and a job. How long you stay is up to you.’

She nodded again, and to her disgust her eyes filled. She looked away, blinking hard to banish the too-ready tears. ‘Thank you,’ she said, a trifle unsteadily. ‘Thank you for everything.’

‘My pleasure. More wine?’

She dredged up a smile. ‘Do you know, I think I will. I don’t suppose two glasses will kill me.’

‘Probably not, although it’s pretty awful,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I just grabbed it in the supermarket on Sunday. I had a feeling this week would call for it.’

He eased himself off the sofa and the dogs were at his heels instantly. Fran wondered a trifle hysterically if she should fall into place behind them, and nearly laughed aloud.

She was losing it, she thought, and then inexplicably her eyes filled again. Don’t be an idiot, she told herself, but the events of the past two weeks caught up with her in a rush, and she curled over on her side on the sofa, buried her face in a cushion and sobbed as if her heart would break.

She didn’t hear Xavier come back, but then the sofa shifted under his weight and he was there for her.

‘Ah, Fran,’ his voice murmured, and then strong hands were on her shoulders, lifting her against his chest, and his arms were round her, rocking her slowly against him, holding her safe until the storm of weeping was over.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed, and pulled away, scrubbing her nose on the back of her hand. ‘What an idiot you must think I am.’

‘You’re not an idiot at all. Here,’ he said, passing her a tissue, and she blew her nose and scrubbed her eyes and sniffed hard, burrowing back into the corner of the sofa in an attempt to retrieve her dignity.

‘Your shirt’s all soggy,’ she said unevenly, and he just smiled, a slow, crooked smile that nearly reduced her to tears again.

She was shredding the tissue, so he took it from her and replaced it with the glass of wine, and she took a gulp and dragged in a huge deep breath and smiled.

‘Thanks,’ she said, her throat still clogged with tears, but he just shrugged.

‘Sometimes it’s better to let go,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve had a lot to deal with. Now, drink up and tell me what you like to eat, so I can go shopping tomorrow. We can’t have you starving to death.’

How odd. The day before she wouldn’t have cared. Now, suddenly, she did, and it was all down to him.

‘I eat anything,’ she told him truthfully. ‘Usually everything, in fact!’

‘I’ll see what I can do. I normally call in at the supermarket on my way home for lunch, or do a big shop with the kids at the weekend, which is always a nightmare.’

‘Can’t I do that for you?’ she offered, and he shrugged.

‘Well—if you want to. I can get you some cash. Are you sure?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve got hours between the end of my work in the morning and picking the children up from school, so it’s not a problem. Do you come home for lunch every day?’

He nodded. ‘If I can, if there’s time. It gives me a little time alone to relax and think—unwind a bit. Don’t think you have to cook for me, though. I usually have beans on toast or something like that—something quick.’

He couldn’t have given her a bigger hint, she thought. She made a mental note to keep out of his way at lunchtimes. ‘I’ll make sure there are plenty of things in the cupboard for you to choose from,’ she said, and wondered why she felt disappointed.

How silly. ‘Right, can you tell me exactly what I have to do each day with the children—in fact, could you write it down so I have it in black and white what’s expected of me, so the kids won’t pull the wool over my eyes?’

He snorted softly. ‘You obviously know kids.’

‘I remember being one,’ she corrected. ‘A new babysitter was a great opportunity not to be missed. I don’t suppose yours are any different.’