Her Parenthood Assignment

‘But we don’t need any—’

‘Luke, I looked in your freezer this morning. It’s full of cardboard boxes and shrink-wrapped nasties. It’s about time you and Heather ate something with nutrients in it. Goodness knows, it might improve both your moods.’

Luke was about to protest that his mood was just fine, thank you very much, but then he remembered how tightly clenched his intestines were all the time and how Heather just had to give him one of her glares and his head would swim with the effort of keeping a lid on his temper.

He grunted and saw a small smile appear on Gaby’s lips.

‘Just you wait. Your taste buds will sing.’

‘Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?’

Still, she was probably right. The food inside had been even worse than the contents of his freezer. In comparison, the ready meals tasted like ambrosia. Perhaps he shouldn’t have subjected his growing daughter to such a limited diet.

‘I didn’t hire you to cook, you know. I’m not paying you any extra.’

‘I like cooking. And besides you did hire me to look after Heather. And I feel I would be failing miserably if I let her eat fast food and junk all day long.’

‘I’ve looked after Heather just fine up until now, thank you.’

‘I didn’t mean…’

She rummaged in her pockets and pulled out the car keys. He watched her unlock the car, shaking her head as she did so, obviously deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to answer him.

He picked up the shopping bags and put them in the boot. He hadn’t meant to bite her head off like that. It was just that he should have thought of the quality of the food he was giving his daughter, not left it up to a stranger who’d been in their lives less than twenty-four hours. It was just another area he was failing in.

He wanted to say sorry, but the words wouldn’t come. Too many years of burying all sense of civility had left their toll on him. It had been too dangerous to show any sign of weakness, so he’d had to act tough to survive. He’d blithely thought that, once he was home, he’d be able to flick a switch and return to the man he’d once been, but it wasn’t that simple. What had once been a choice had now become a habit.

As they climbed in the car and drove away, he looked across at Gaby. Two little creases had appeared between her eyebrows while she concentrated on the winding roads. He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. He’d been like a bear with a sore head this morning and she’d just taken it. No screaming, no temper tantrums. She seemed to understand that he was struggling with a new addition to the household and gave him space accordingly.

He cranked the handle by his side to open the window a little. The air was cold and very fresh, but he needed a break from the smell of her. Nothing fancy. No perfume or expensive cosmetics, just the scent of a clean woman. A good woman. She had to be a saint to take his family on. And perhaps this good woman could help him remember how to be a good father. Once it had been so effortless.

But that was the problem. He wanted Gaby here for all the obvious practical reasons, but a part of him was resisting her presence. There was something about her that eroded his barriers while he didn’t even notice. He’d laughed with her. Had actually laughed. He’d opened up with her. Those kinds of things were dangerous. If he didn’t look out his iron-plating would buckle and then he’d lose control—and that would be no good at all for Heather.

However much this Gaby made him want to breathe out and smile, he had to resist it.

‘Next left.’

Gaby didn’t move.

‘Gaby, I said next left! Now look…We’ve gone past the turning. You’ll have to stop in the passing place up ahead, then go back.’

He watched her fingers tighten over the gear stick and she jerked it into place. His eyes widened slightly.

So, he was getting to her. Perhaps she wasn’t as au fait with his sore-headed-bear routine as he’d thought. Well, good! It would be easier to keep her at arm’s length that way. Then he wouldn’t be bothered by her clean smell and the warmth in her eyes.

CHAPTER FOUR

A LASAGNE was bubbling away in the oven. Gaby fished her mobile phone out of her pocket and dialled a number while she had a spare minute.

‘Hello, Mum. It’s me.’

‘Good grief, Gabrielle. What are you doing calling at this hour? You know we always sit down to dinner at six-thirty sharp. Your father will only get difficult if his soup goes cold.’

‘Sorry, Mum. This won’t take long.’

‘Well? What’s the emergency?’

‘I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be away for a while.’

‘Oh, good heavens! You’re not going on holiday with that Jules you share a flat with, are you? She seems the sort to get into trouble in a foreign country, if you ask me. Always got too much flesh on display.’

Gaby closed her eyes, took a deep breath and answered. ‘No, Mum. I’m not going away with Jules.’

‘Just as well. I don’t know, Gabrielle. Your father and I didn’t raise you to go gallivanting off at the drop of a hat. I just don’t know what to think since you broke it off with David.’

‘Mum, David was the one who—’

‘Well, that’s beside the point, isn’t it? I don’t know why you can’t make another go of it—let bygones be bygones. Goodness knows, your brother and Hattie have had their problems, but they’ve been able to make it work. Look at them now, two lovely boys and another baby on the way. You’re running out of time, you know, if you want a family. And at your age it’s going to be hard to find a nice man to take you on with all your history.’

Gaby tuned her mother out and made the appropriate noises at the appropriate moments. Why did every conversation always end up with her mother pointing out that she wasn’t making a success of her life like her golden-boy brother? Next to him she just felt ordinary.

Once her mother had given up on her following Justin to Cambridge, she’d hatched a plan to train her up as a nanny and pack her off to look after Lord and Lady So-and-so’s kids. What a coup that had been at her afternoon teas.

Gaby sighed. She’d done everything she could to make her parents proud of her, but it was never good enough. She even wondered whether one of the reasons she’d married David, one of Justin’s university buddies, had just been so she could bask in some of the reflected glory.

She was jerked back to the present by the raised pitch in her mother’s voice. ‘I’m going to have to dash. Your father has just started bellowing.’

‘Bye, Mum. Send my love to—’

But her mother had rung off. Gaby walked over to the fridge, still staring at her phone. Her mother hadn’t even asked where she was going, or how long for. She popped the phone back in her jeans pocket and got on with making the salad dressing. There was a creak by the door as she measured out the vinegar.

Luke.

She wasn’t sure how she knew it was him, she just sensed it. She carried on pouring the oil into the dressing mixture and waited for him to say something. The fine hairs on the back of her neck started to lift and she became so self-conscious she whisked the dressing into a tornado.

In the end, she couldn’t stand it any more and she turned slowly. Her eyes met his.

‘Is there anything I can do to help, Gaby?’

She shook her head. ‘No. It’s just about ready. You could call Heather, though, if you like?’

He just stood in the doorway and kept looking at her. She looked back, doing her best not to fidget. And then he disappeared without saying anything. A shadow seemed to hover in the doorway where he’d been standing, as if the intensity of his presence had left an imprint in the air. The whisk in her hand was hanging in mid-air, dripping dressing on the floor. She quickly plopped it back in the jug and reached for the kitchen towel.

By the time Luke returned with Heather, the lasagne was on the table and Gaby was ready and waiting with an oven mitt in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. Heather slid into a seat and eyed the serving dish suspiciously. Gaby gave her a small portion, then spooned a generous helping on to a plate for Luke.

She waited, eyebrows raised and spoon poised to cut through the pasta, waiting for him to signal if he wanted more. He nodded so enthusiastically that Gaby couldn’t help but smile as she dolloped another spoonful on to his plate and passed it across.

‘Do start,’ she said, serving herself.