Saving Baby Amy

by Annie Claydon

  ‘Hannah never said anything to me about Amy’s father.’

  Chloe shook her head. ‘He’s not on the scene. Very deliberately so. We know who he is, he went to the same school as Hannah. It seems that he and Hannah had something going together, and when he went off to university they split up. When Hannah ran away, that’s where James found her. Living with him in his student halls.’

  ‘Didn’t anyone notice?’

  ‘Apparently not. He used to smuggle her in at night and back out again in the morning. Hannah spent most of the day in coffee bars. When we realised she was pregnant, James went to see the family, but the boy said it was nothing to do with him and his parents didn’t want to know either.’

  ‘That must have been hard on Hannah. Has the boy ever been in touch?’ It would be hard on Amy too, when she was old enough to understand. Jon held the sleeping child a little closer.

  ‘Not once. Hannah decided not to pursue it and I couldn’t help agreeing with her. If someone lets you down that badly, you’re better off without them.’

  ‘I suppose so. Still hurts, though.’

  ‘Yes, it does still hurt.’

  Chloe’s face showed no emotion, but Jon suspected that she was talking a little about herself, as well as Hannah. Someone had let her down, and she’d decided that she should deal with everything on her own, now.

  ‘You know I didn’t tell the exact truth when I said I’d be gone in a couple of days, that was really just for Hannah’s benefit. You’re off for the next two weeks, and I’ve given the hospital the time I promised them. I have the next three weeks off.’

  ‘That’s supposed to be for you to finish the renovations on your house. So that you’ll have it all done when you start work permanently. You agreed that with them.’

  ‘I told you I’d be around to help, and I will be. The builders are putting the new bathroom in, and I can put anything else off until later.’

  He could see the disbelief in her eyes, and all he wanted to do was to show her somehow that he really did mean what he said this time.

  ‘Yes, I know. Thanks.’

  Chloe’s words offered him little comfort. Because, whatever she said, he knew that she didn’t believe him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JON MADE SURE that he was home from work early the following evening so he could see Amy and Chloe off. It had just been two weeks but now that he was putting Amy’s things into Chloe’s car, and about to kiss the little girl goodbye, it seemed impossible that he could have come to care so much about her in so short a time.

  ‘I’ll be back on Sunday evening.’ Jon thought he saw Chloe’s lip tremble.

  ‘Yeah. Give me a call if that changes. You never know, I might cook you dinner.’ Jon was banking on having the weekend here alone, and he didn’t want Chloe walking in on him unannounced.

  ‘It’s not going to change. I’ve said I’ll go in to work on Monday for a few hours to do a handover. But you don’t need to cook. I’ll have had Sunday lunch with the family.’

  Jon congratulated himself silently on clearing the final hurdle before his plan could be put into action. ‘Okay. Well... Good luck. You’ll give me a call if there are any problems, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I will. Thanks.’

  They stood facing each other in the hall. There was nothing more to say, and they both had things to do, but something kept them both glued to the carpet. Finally Jon put his arms around her shoulders.

  The awkwardness of it was melted away by the scent of her hair. Chloe clung to him, and he felt himself let out a breath. This was crazy. It was just a weekend.

  ‘Go...’ It seemed altogether wrong to let her go anywhere, now that she was so close, but somehow he managed to take a step back.

  Chloe looked up at him and the now-familiar feeling of honey oozing across his senses almost made his knees buckle. Then she reached up, standing on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. She drew back, almost before he had a chance to register it, walking into the sitting room to fetch Amy.

  ‘Say bye-bye.’ Chloe waved her hand, and Amy followed suit. ‘See you again soon.’

  Amy repeated the words almost perfectly, and Jon gave her a hug and a kiss. Then he walked them out to the car, standing to watch as they drove away, feeling suddenly as if the bottom had just dropped out of his world.

  His cheek still burned where her lips had touched it. But now that Chloe had gone, he had forty-eight hours to put into operation the plan that he’d been fine-tuning for the last week. The challenge got him moving, and he strode into the house to fetch his jacket and car keys.

  Everything he needed was piled up in the hallway of his house. A thank-you to Chloe for coming to his rescue and letting him stay here for the last month. Something that was easy for him to do and not so easy for her to achieve. And he hoped she’d love it.

  * * *

  Chloe drew up in the road outside her house, sitting for a moment in the car to gather her thoughts. She’d almost managed to believe that everything was going to be all right, that Hannah would find the confidence to take the first vital steps in taking Amy back to look after her. But everything had fallen apart.

  The aching tiredness made her feel almost physically sick with instinctive fear. Chloe reminded herself that this was nothing like what she’d felt when she’d been ill, and that there was a good reason for it. Getting out of the car, leaving her bag still on the back seat, she pulled herself straight and walked to the front door.

  Another instinct, this one more recently formed, made her wonder whether Jon would be there. He’d said that he would, and Jon hadn’t broken a promise yet, but everything else had gone horribly wrong this weekend. Why not this?

  When she opened the front door, the smell hit her and for a moment she was too fatigued to even know what it was. As she twisted the handle of the kitchen door, she realised. Paint.

  Maybe Jon had brought something home to paint at the kitchen table. When all she really wanted was a cup of tea...

  He was sitting at the kitchen table, the look on his face something like that of an agonised boy who had hoped to do something right. Chloe looked around. The kitchen looked suddenly lighter and she couldn’t understand why for a moment.

  It was the new paint on the ceiling and walls. The unusual tidiness of her worktop was because the old one had been cleared and removed and a new one installed. She realised that it was the same worktop she’d admired at Jon’s house, and the new doors on the kitchen cabinets were the same honeyed wood. Her old cooker had been cleaned to within an inch of its life and a couple of new spotlights, placed unobtrusively in the darker corners, made the room seem about twice the size.

  She took a step inside, her legs almost failing to hold her. Beneath her feet, the old lino had been taken up and the quarry tiles underneath gleamed.

  For a moment she couldn’t speak. Chloe walked over to the window and saw that the frame had been sanded down and painted—a proper job, not just a lick of paint to cover whatever flaws were hidden beneath it. It hit her suddenly that this was Jon’s thank-you to her. He hadn’t needed to give her a leaving present, certainly not something like this, but that was what it was.

  And she’d given him everything he needed to work with. Chloe realised that the jokey conversation about colours and styles, what she’d do with the kitchen when she had the time, had all been noted down in his head. She’d even lifted a corner of the lino and shown him the quarry tiles underneath, saying she’d hire something to polish them up one day.

  ‘You...’ Jon’s voice was uncharacteristically full of doubt. ‘You could say something...’

  No, she couldn’t. This was all too much. She’d lost almost everything this weekend, and now she was losing Jon. Chloe felt herself choke, and a sudden burst of energy took her up the stairs to fling herself onto
her bed to sob into her pillow.

  * * *

  Jon ran his hand across the wooden tabletop, which just thirty-six hours earlier had been in the garden, being sanded and polished. Maybe everything she’d said last week, about how the colour scheme he had in his kitchen was the one she wanted in hers, had been just idle talk, and not what she wanted at all. But she’d seemed so sure, as if she’d thought about it, and no one could deny that the kitchen looked great.

  Or maybe she’d wanted to do it herself. That was a possibility, but Jon knew that she didn’t have the time or the energy at the moment. Maybe she was just overcome with delight... Jon shook his head, burying it in his hands. Unless Chloe’s delight looked a lot like dismay, that wasn’t very likely.

  He hadn’t heard from her over the weekend and he’d assumed that things were going the way she’d hoped. But that could just be wishful thinking on his part. Would she really have given him a call to tell him that there was a problem?

  Something was wrong. His decision to stay here, because Chloe obviously wanted to be alone, was dropped and Jon walked slowly up the stairs.

  He tapped gently on her bedroom door and received no answer, so he pressed his ear against it. He couldn’t hear Chloe moving around, so he knocked again, this time a little louder.

  She’d heard him. A rasping breath that sounded as if it was laced with tears came from the other side of the door.

  ‘Chloe... What’s wrong?’ he called to her, and there was still no answer. He supposed he could just go downstairs and leave her with whatever it was that was bothering her, but the thought that his actions might have been the cause of her tears glued him to the spot.

  He could wait here, or go in. Waiting was obviously about as much good as going back downstairs, so he twisted the door handle slowly, ready to apologise and bang the door closed in his own face if she was undressing. But she wasn’t. He knew she wasn’t.

  Just in case, he called her name again and told her he was coming in. There was still no answer, and he opened the door. Chloe was sitting on the bed, her face buried in her hands.

  ‘Chloe...I’m sorry. I really thought you’d like what I did...’ Suddenly it all seemed like a very bad idea. Why hadn’t he left well alone? Or just bought her a bunch of flowers.

  ‘It’s lovely...’ She gulped the words through her tears.

  So that wasn’t what she was crying about. Or if it was, they were the oddest tears of joy he’d ever seen. He walked towards her, bending down to disentangle the strap of her handbag, which was still over her shoulder, and laying the bag on the bed.

  ‘Chloe...? What’s the matter?’ She hadn’t told him to go yet, and if that wasn’t exactly an invitation to stay, he wasn’t too proud to take it as such.

  She seemed to be making an effort to pull herself together, and Jon pulled a tissue from the box next to the bed and handed it to her. Chloe blew her nose and he handed her another for her eyes.

  ‘Thank you for the kitchen. It looks fantastic.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘You really shouldn’t have done it.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t have if I’d known it was going to drive you to this.’ He’d been telling himself for the whole of the last week that this was just a thank-you. That it was something one friend could do for another. But now he realised that all he’d really wanted to do was make her smile. Give her something that she loved.

  He wanted to hug her and dry her tears, but he made do with sitting cautiously down on the bed next to her. ‘What’s the matter, Chloe?’

  She shook her head, reaching for another tissue to finish mopping up the tears. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult weekend.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  She shook her head but didn’t move. ‘I’ve put too much on you these last two weeks. And now you’ve done this...’ She turned her honey-brown gaze on him. Now, more than ever, it reminded him of sweet pleasure, dripping over his senses.

  ‘I’m here to listen, Chloe.’

  ‘I know you are. But it doesn’t matter...’ She gave him a teary smile. ‘I’ll make some supper. We have to have something nice to christen that gorgeous kitchen with.’

  She stood up, obviously bent on going downstairs and pretending that everything was all right. He couldn’t bear it. Jon caught her hand, pulling her back down onto his lap.

  ‘Forget the kitchen.’ It had been the centre of all his hopes and efforts for the last two days, but now he didn’t care about it. ‘I’m not letting you go until you tell me.’

  * * *

  He had hardly touched her, and the force that had impelled her into his arms must have come from somewhere inside herself. And although he was hardly holding her at all, she couldn’t escape. Maybe because her own fingers were clasped tightly together behind his neck.

  He must have spent the whole weekend here, working on her kitchen, when he should have been at his place, working there. Of course he’d wanted her to be delighted with it. It was a wonderful present, and she didn’t know how she could ever repay him for it.

  One thing she was sure of. Tears were no kind of thanks and sharing what had happened this weekend wasn’t either. Because he’d only feel that he had to stay, when what he should really do was go and get on with the things he had to do.

  But she so wanted this. His strength and solidity. The feeling that she could face anything if he just held her for a little while.

  ‘The kitchen’s beautiful. It’s a lovely goodbye present.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘It was more of a thank you than a goodbye. Why, are you throwing me out?’

  ‘No.’ She nudged her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m telling you that you’ve done enough. You don’t need to hang around here, sorting out my problems.’

  ‘So I can stay as long as I want?’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘Where’s Amy? Is she back with Hannah now?’

  ‘No, she’s with James and Carol.’

  ‘And Hannah?’ Chloe didn’t answer and his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. ‘You said I could stay as long as I wanted. I’m taking that as an invitation to pry into your personal business as well. I’m not letting you go until you tell me.’

  Chloe sighed. There was no way out of this. She was going to have to tell him and then perhaps he’d leave Hannah to her.

  ‘James dropped Hannah off at her place on his way home. She said she wanted to do some things there, and that she’d come round after lunch. We waited until three o’clock, and when she didn’t answer her phone, we went round there. Hannah had gone.’

  ‘Gone? Where?’

  ‘I don’t know. She left a note saying she needed some more time and that it was better for Amy if she was with us right now.’

  ‘And you haven’t heard from her?’

  ‘I texted her, and she replied. She says she’s okay but she won’t say where she is. She promised to text this morning, and she did.’

  ‘So you left Amy with James and Carol’

  ‘I left her there because I’m going to look for Hannah.’ The resolution that had taken hold of her, and strengthened over the last twenty-four hours suddenly hardened into certainty. ‘I’m going to find her.’

  ‘Do you know where to even start?’

  ‘I’ll call her friends. Maybe I can persuade Hannah to tell me where she is, or to come back here if she’s not ready to go home. I don’t know. Something’s got to work.’

  Chloe fell silent for a moment, letting herself feel his body against hers. It was a small indulgence, which would have to last through all of the uncertainty of the days ahead. Then she pulled away from him and stood up.

  ‘We should make waffles.’

  He looked up at her. ‘Waffles? You’re sure about that?’

  She shrugged. ‘James and I
have looked everywhere locally we can think of. There’s nothing more I can do tonight. I just have to trust that Hannah’s being sensible and that she’s all right. And I’ve got some bananas in the car.’

  He grinned. ‘Banana waffles. Sounds like a plan.’

  * * *

  She made a show of opening and closing all the new cupboard doors because she could see that it pleased him. ‘How did you do all this in a weekend?’

  ‘I got into the swing of it when I did my own kitchen. And it’s really just cosmetic. The cupboards were good, and they’re a standard size, so I just put new doors on them.’

  Chloe ran her hand across the worktops. ‘They’re lovely. They must have cost a fortune. You must let me—’

  He laid one finger across her lips, grinning. ‘No, you don’t. My builder gets a trade discount on everything. And the length of worktop that I didn’t use in my own kitchen turned out to be almost enough.’

  ‘So you’re trying to kid me that you got all this for free? I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Believe whatever you like.’ He grinned at her. ‘Is it what you wanted?’

  ‘It’s better than that. It’s gorgeous, and I can’t believe you did it all in two days.’

  ‘I had a bit of help, fitting the worktop.’

  ‘Your builder again? The one who gets everything free?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s a great guy.’

  Chloe wondered whether she should press the point. Jon had obviously spent something on this, but he was unwilling to tell her how much and she should probably accept the gift gracefully. And the most valuable part of it was the thought and care that had gone into it. He’d listened to what she wanted and had made it all happen.

  ‘It’s wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.’

  He grinned. ‘It’s my pleasure. Now, get on and make the waffles. I’m getting hungry just thinking about them.’

  They ate together, taking their time. By the time they’d done the washing up, exhaustion started to kick in for the second time, this time leaving Chloe with little choice but to recognise it.