‘God morgon.’ She smiled with sleepy eyes. Then she drew level with Josie’s room and stopped when Maria said loudly, ‘Yes! My dolly want beckfast.’ Emelie craned around the door then switched her grey gaze to Nico. ‘Maria’s here?’ she whispered.
Resignedly, Nico recounted the story again, adding, ‘Talking to Vivvi, I was reminded that years ago she was head of a team selling time-shares. When they got you into a room they made you feel you were in the wrong if you wanted to get out. She doesn’t let consideration for others get in the way of her goals.’
‘Wow,’ she whispered. ‘But what about you? How are you feeling?’
‘Blindsided,’ he admitted.
She gave him a hug. Her hair smelled of coffee. ‘You need someone on your side. I was going to crash but I’ll stay up and help with the girls.’
He tugged her ponytail. Some students who’d fallen into free board and lodging while at uni would soon forget there was anything expected of them in return. Emelie, however, never failed to do her bit. ‘Grab a few hours,’ he suggested in a low voice. ‘They’re playing nicely at the moment. I’d like you fresh for if I need reinforcements.’
Emelie giggled then crept off to her room, obviously intent on flying under the radar of young persons who might demand her attention.
The girls played together all morning. After showering, Nico caught up on laundry and household stuff, interrupted by requests to rearrange things in Josie’s room or approve snacks. Maria was so enraptured by having her sister to play with that she didn’t ask for Loren once. She was a model houseguest except for her tendency to squeal at a pitch only dolphins could hear.
Tilly, as arranged, called at lunchtime. Nico was at the kitchen breakfast bar in front of his laptop. He recounted the Maria story yet again, though terming Loren merely ‘unwell’. ‘So I’m wondering whether you could come to me full-time this week to look after Maria. It’ll mean extra money, of course.’ He was erring on the side of caution in making arrangements for the entire week but there was no sense assuming Loren would have sorted herself out in a day or so, no matter how much he hoped that would be the case.
To his dismay, Tilly sounded astonished. ‘I have gardening jobs booked in every day this week till two-thirty because Josie’s back at school.’
‘Every day?’ Nico hadn’t expected Tilly to leap at the chance but he thought she’d be a little more flexible.
Dubiously, Tilly amended, ‘I suppose I can cover any day it rains heavily, so I can’t garden.’
‘Right.’ Nico clicked on the weather app at the side of his laptop screen. Bloody England first week in November but not a drop of rain was forecast all week. ‘Not even just Monday?’ he pressed, in case he could coax her into a concession. Then, when Tilly just mumbled an apology: ‘Right. I’ll see you in the morning for the school run as usual. Can you look after Maria with Josie for three hours after school for an extra two pounds an hour? You’ll be here with Josie anyway.’
Tilly said, ‘OK,’ but didn’t sound enthusiastic.
‘They play well together,’ he said encouragingly, before ending the call and dropping his phone on the counter.
Bollocks. Damn, blast and bugger. He’d been relying on Tilly but it had been hopelessly optimistic, he saw now. Since Tilly began her side hustle she reacted less well to being asked to do extra hours and he suspected that she’d one day drop being a nanny and stick to gardens. Still, he was angry with himself for not acknowledging her gardening work as important before asking her to shove a week’s worth of it back.
He turned to his electronic diary, being ruthless about what meetings he could put off to the following week, trying to remember how much you could get done working from home with a two-year-old running around and realising that without Josie to play with during school hours Maria might turn fretful and miss her mum.
He checked the Josie rota and saw that as well as getting Josie up in the mornings Emelie was currently down to take over from Tilly on Tuesday and Thursday at six because he had meetings likely to run late. Maybe he could ask whether she’d be able to pitch in a little more. From the corner of his eye he saw a Facebook notification pop up. Hannah Anna Goodbody has sent you a friend request. She was right that it was an eye-catching name. He remembered, when they were teens, Rob simultaneously liking ‘Goodbody’ for himself but not jokes about the name and his little sister.
He grinned faintly, feeling cheered by the echoes of days at the rink, the hiss of skates on ice, his dad Lars putting the team through endless skills training, Hannah bringing cookies with her mum, or taking youngsters out on the ice while Lars had the team clustered around the whiteboard talking about match play. Visiting Hannah and Rob’s village of stone or brick cottages, chattering at their dinner table, laughing, hanging out ‘over the fields’, as the kids called the areas outside leafy Middledip. There had been a nearby private estate that had proved an irresistible draw. He remembered being chased out of a posh gazebo by estate staff and over a bridge onto the public footpaths, laughing, breathless, pulling a panting Hannah along because her legs were shorter, climbing the fence into the primary school grounds to escape.
It had been nearly Christmas then, too. Snorting with laughter, they’d hidden amongst the families queuing to go into the school Christmas concert. He’d loved Christmas in the village: the traditional bits like carol singers gathering at The Cross, muffled in coats and scarves; the over-the-top stuff like competing neighbours smothering their cottages with twinkling fairy lights. His first experience of kisses beneath the mistletoe had been at the teen party at the village hall.
He shook himself out of Memory Lane, Middledip, and accepted the friend request. Then, because there was no one to see him cyber stalking, looked over Hannah’s profile page for the past few weeks, seeing it full of pictures of Hannah Anna Butik, of Stockholm and one of Hannah with a man with dark hair and a remote expression. Nico regarded him critically, automatically categorising him as ‘Östermalm Man’ with a cashmere sweater tied around his shoulders. He decided from their distant body language that he was nobody special in Hannah’s life.
He followed a link to the business page of Hannah Anna Butik and ‘liked’ it. Then, seeing a picture of his own displays, typed: Awesome! What genius dressed your shop? Must be the best in Gamla Stan.
Then, reluctantly, he returned to the problem of the day and called his boss, Anders, and explained the situation yet again. There was no way he’d change his plans for St Lucia’s Day and his Swedish early Christmas so he suggested bringing forward the week of annual leave presently reserved for February’s spring half-term, speaking English because Anders had this thing about speaking English while he was in the UK and Swedish when he was in Sweden. Anders enjoyed pointless boundaries.
‘This week? From tomorrow?’ clarified Anders, sounding as astonished as if Nico had requested permission to become a Christmas elf.
Nico kept his voice neutral. ‘Yes. Sorry. At least I’m not due in Stockholm. I can work with Katya to rearrange my diary. I should be able to find time while I’m off to work on tenders and contracts. My team can telephone me whenever they want.’
‘And this upheaval is for your ex-wife’s child?’ Anders demanded.
‘That’s right. But I wouldn’t ask to take short-notice annual leave if it could be avoided. She’s a child,’ he added grimly, when Anders remained silent. ‘If I can get—’ He bit back ‘get rid of her’. ‘If I can make other arrangements for her then I will, obviously, but it’s not looking good at the moment.’
‘I understand,’ Anders said, though he didn’t sound as if he did. ‘I’ll leave it to you to talk to HR.’
Nico thanked him and thought that if he was ever asked for a favour by someone in as tight a spot as he was he’d be more generous than Tilly or Anders.
He considered texting Tilly to say he wouldn’t want her at all this week as he’d been forced to take time off but thought better of it. Loren used to complain he gave o
ff a distinct ‘my job’s more important than your job’ vibe and maybe he’d been guilty of that with Tilly. Good nannies your child liked were hard to find and Nico planned to keep Tilly until Josie began senior school.
A small voice behind him said, ‘Where’s Mummy?’
Nico swung around on his stool. Maria stood in the doorway, her head tilted and her tights drooping. He smiled reassuringly. ‘Mummy’s having a rest, which means you can play with Josie.’
She didn’t look upset or worried but merely nodded. ‘Yozee wee.’ A toilet flushed, as if to confirm her observation.
He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we have lunch? Josie likes chicken sandwiches. Do you?’
Maria nodded, silky hair bobbing. ‘With catch up.’
‘Red ketchup?’ He opened a cupboard. ‘Like this?’ He produced a squeezy bottle of Heinz, Josie’s favourite.
‘Yes!’ Maria broached a bar stool and automatically Nico helped her up, wishing either she had a high chair or he had a lower table. Still, she’d only be here a couple of days.
‘Catch up,’ she reminded him.
‘OK.’ He laughed, entertained by her single-mindedness. ‘Let me make the sandwiches first.’
Josie thundered downstairs, ponytail flying, and soon the three of them were eating companionably.
Maria proved herself an unnaturally amenable child. Throughout the rest of the day she went about her business without crying for Loren though asked a couple more times, ‘Where Mummy?’
Josie answered matter-of-factly, ‘Mummy’s at home and you’re staying with me and my dad.’
Maria wrinkled her nose at Nico and said, ‘Mydad.’
It was late on Sunday afternoon when Nico’s ex-mother-in-law Vivvi turned up. The girls were playing upstairs and Nico, spotting Vivvi’s car, opened the door before she could ring the bell. ‘Come in,’ he suggested. ‘If we keep it down we can talk before the girls know you’re here.’
Vivvi followed him into the kitchen, face pale, creases around her eyes. She refused refreshment and didn’t sit down. ‘I’ve been with Loren,’ she whispered, blinking rapidly. ‘It’s much worse than I’d feared. She was out cold when I got there at ten this morning. I gave her a talking-to and she’s confessed to misusing prescription meds. Barbiturates. They mix badly with alcohol.’
Nico’s heart turned to lead. ‘I had no idea,’ he murmured, wondering if ‘a talking-to’ ever solved a substance abuse problem.
‘No chance of an emergency appointment with her GP on a Sunday,’ Vivvi went on, shoving back her silver-streaked hair wearily. ‘She talked to a helpline but wouldn’t tell me what they said. She made promises about cutting out these bloody pills but says I’m not to push her too hard to do things she’s not ready to do.’
Nico blew out his cheeks. ‘Hmm.’ It sounded like Loren-speak for ‘I don’t want to be held accountable.’
‘Well.’ Vivvi made an ungainly hand-waving, shrugging motion as if shaking off responsibility. ‘I must go home. It’s Red’s triple heart bypass tomorrow. The problem arteries aren’t easily accessible and he’ll go into intensive care. I’ll take Loren home with me. I hadn’t bargained for it but at least I’ve taken time off to look after Redfern. We’ll have to try and make the best of things.’
Heart in his boots, Nico managed to murmur, ‘I hope Red does well after his op.’
Vivvi zipped her coat. ‘Thanks. It means I can’t help you with Maria. Sorry, but there it is.’ She didn’t quite look him in the eye.
‘Help me with your granddaughter?’ His teeth felt as if they’d been welded together he gritted them so hard.
Vivvi’s lip trembled. ‘Tonight’s my last with Redfern before his big op. I can’t look after a two-year-old. What would I do with her while I’m visiting Red?’
‘You’re taking Loren with you. Can’t you cover it between you?’ Tension slithered around Nico’s forehead and yanked itself tight.
‘What exactly do you want me to do? Leave Loren here to overdose?’ Vivvi flashed, illogically, as Nico hadn’t mentioned anything of the kind. She dashed tears from her eyes. ‘I’ll ring her surgery for advice tomorrow but I don’t know what else to do! Any good ideas in that chief executive head of yours? And don’t say send Maria to her birth father because Loren doesn’t even know how to contact him. I expect the authorities might but goodness knows how long that would take.’
It wasn’t the time to point out that he was at least two management levels down from a CEO. He responded icily. ‘Her birth father’s a stranger to her anyway. I suppose I’ll have to keep her for a few days.’ Then, catching the sound of approaching voices, ‘Here are the girls.’
Hostilities suspended, he managed a smile as he turned to see Josie, looking grown up next to Maria. ‘Hello, Grandma!’ said Josie.
‘Ganma,’ said Maria.
‘Girls!’ Vivvi, too, managed a smile. ‘I’ve had a talk with Daddy and now I have to rush off because Grandpa isn’t very well and I have to look after him. Mummy’s coming with me for a few days, OK? So you both need to be very good for Daddy. I mean—’ She faltered, obviously remembering that Nico wasn’t Maria’s daddy. She blew both girls a hurried kiss then headed for the door, Josie trotting alongside, obviously not understanding that she’d been dismissed, charging her grandma with messages about Grandpa feeling better and Mummy having a nice time.
Maria remained standing in the kitchen.
Nico looked at her. ‘Unlucky, kid,’ he murmured, heart twisting that she wasn’t even surprised at getting short shrift. He thought of his own beginnings with two fantastic parents, even if they’d parted, and four fab grandparents.
He thought of Maria left alone to cry herself into dehydration. A mother and two grandparents too caught up in their own upheavals to spare her even basic attention. No father worth the name.
His resentments were bubbling over but they didn’t lie with the little girl. He crouched in front of her. ‘Juice, Maria?’
A smile lit the hazel eyes that were not like Loren’s and not like his. ‘Yes, p’ease, Mydad.’
It wasn’t hard to smile back.
Chapter Five
Hannah Anna Butik mentioned you in a comment.
Nico touched the notification on his phone screen and read Hannah’s response to the comment he’d left on her page about how well her shop was dressed. Genius indeed!
Hannah Anna Goodbody has sent you a message. As Maria was eating Frosties with mmm-mmm-mmm’s of enjoyment and Josie was upstairs cleaning her teeth, glum because it was Monday and she had to return to school, Nico opened that also.
Hannah Anna Goodbody Didn’t want to say it publicly but takings are up by over sixty per cent this week! Honestly, Nico, I owe you dinner. Thanks again and see you at the wedding.
He spooned up the last of his granola. Hannah wrote exactly as she spoke and he could imagine her wide-eyed emphasis on ‘Honestly, Nico!’ He clicked reply. Glad the customers are buying. Then, after a moment’s thought: Dinner would be great but not expected.
‘Daddy,’ said Josie in a small voice from the kitchen doorway. ‘Can I stay and help you with Maria today?’
Nico’s parent radar pinged into action. He put his phone away and gave his daughter a reassuring smile. ‘It’s a school day, sweetie. Maria and I will be fine till you come home.’
Josie looked down, blinking. ‘I don’t like school any more.’
He slipped an arm around her, seeing Emelie hovering in the hall, looking anxious. He said, ‘This isn’t like you. Mrs Calcashaw thinks you’ll settle in.’ He’d had several conversations with her on this subject.
The look Josie sent him was full of wounded betrayal.
The food he’d eaten turned to cold cement in his stomach. Did every parent feel like this when their kid was unhappy? ‘How about Maria and I walk you to school today? It’s a treat,’ he added, when she brightened. ‘I’d love to do it every day, but it’s not possible.’
‘OK.’ Josie sighed.<
br />
Emelie said brightly, ‘Shall we take Maria to the bathroom and help her wash her face and clean her teeth?’
‘OK,’ Josie repeated, not sounding comforted by this distraction.
Tilly arrived, blowing in through the back door, wiping her feet. ‘Hey,’ she said, briefly.
Nico glanced her way, suspecting from her economy of speech that he was on her shit list for asking her to do extra work. ‘Hey.’ He hesitated, revisiting his plan to have Tilly look after both girls after Josie finished school so he could get a few hours’ work done each day. He was anxious about Josie. The bleak expression on her face. The depth of her back-to-school blues.
He’d told Anders that he’d try and get a bit done while he was at home this week but suddenly he rebelled. He was entitled to spend his annual leave how he pleased. His companionship was what his daughter needed right now and he was going to give it to her.
Tilly was watching him from the corner of her eye and he had the feeling she was waiting for him to be conciliatory for what she obviously saw as asking too much of her. Instead, some of the resentment he’d been feeling found an outlet. ‘About looking after both girls,’ he began genially enough.
She cut in with the air of one who felt herself to have the high ground. ‘It’s just that our agreement is that you give me plenty of notice about extra work. Extra children are extra work, additional money or not.’ She pulled off her coat.
‘You’re right.’ Nettled, he started to collect up breakfast bowls. ‘And I didn’t appreciate that your gardening work’s so important that you couldn’t offer me even a few additional hours. But I need childcare for Maria so I’ve taken the week off.’
Tilly’s expression became a little less victorious. She halted, one arm still in her coat. ‘What does that mean for me?’
‘I’ll pay you for this morning, though you can go straight away as I’m going to take Josie to school, and then I won’t need you for the rest of the week.’ He swilled the bowls and stacked them in the dishwasher. Tilly had offered zero flexibility and there were consequences to that. He wasn’t in the mood to butter her up with repeated apologies and greater offers of financial recompense. Recently, she’d started to try and score over him as if she was a diva girlfriend, not his paid nanny. He wiped down the breakfast bar. ‘You’ll be able to do lots of gardening.’
Christmas Wishes: From the Sunday Times bestselling and award-winning author of romance fiction comes a feel-good cosy Christmas read Page 7