Mr. Smithfield

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Mr. Smithfield Page 5

by Louise Bay


  It was like Bethany and I had been some huge mistake she’d rather just pretend never happened.

  Erasing me from her past was one thing, but her daughter? Her own flesh and blood? Penelope was abominable.

  “You know what I think?” Joshua said, his voice brightening. “It’s about bloody time. It’s not like you’d take her back anyway, is it?”

  “Of course not.” That ship had sailed the moment she’d walked out without discussion or explanation. And anyway, she wasn’t about to come back. She hadn’t been in contact other than through her solicitor since she left. Each special occasion after she’d abandoned her daughter, I braced myself for a phone call, a letter, even a surprise appearance. But every birthday, Christmas, and milestone passed in silence. She’d disappeared. And now she was just a ghost. Not even a memory for Bethany.

  “Have you met Gabriel?” Andrew asked. “He’s hardly the guy dishing out second chances to anyone who turns up on his doorstep.”

  “So, it’s good,” Joshua continued. “This way, you can move on.”

  “I’ve moved on already. What choice did I have?”

  “You’ve put one foot in front of the other,” Joshua said. “That’s not moving on. That’s surviving.”

  Joshua liked to think he gave tough love—so he called it. I called it bullshit. “Whatever, Joshua.”

  “I’m saying this for your own good,” Joshua said.

  “So, what in your learned opinion would constitute moving on as opposed to surviving?” I asked.

  “I’m saying you need to get out and fuck another woman.”

  I’d been given this talk by the guys before. Hollie had tried to set me up with a girl she’d met at a photoshoot. People didn’t understand—I wasn’t going to date. Maybe not ever but certainly not until Bethany was grown. I wouldn’t subject her to it. I clearly didn’t have good judgement when it came to choosing a woman. I’d gotten Penelope so wrong. Even when she left, it wasn’t as if I suddenly understood who she was and why things hadn’t worked out. Even three years later, she had the ability to surprise me by not asking for anything from me financially.

  I didn’t like surprises. And I wouldn’t risk more. I’d had enough to last a lifetime.

  “Thanks for the advice, Joshua.”

  “He’s got a point,” Dexter said.

  Autumn had been the only woman I’d even thought about since Penelope. I didn’t know what it was, but something about her drew me in. She was beautiful—that went without saying. She was bright and sunny and saw life how I’d like to see it—all birdsong and fresh mountain air. But there was more to her than that. Her reaction to those theatre tickets had been proof. It was as if she was trying to out-sing some dark melody forever playing in the background of her life.

  “Gabriel’s a lost cause,” Tristan said. “But Autumn shouldn’t be. I don’t see why I can’t have her number.”

  “You haven’t got a chance, mate,” Dexter said.

  I couldn’t have put it better myself.

  “How the hell would you know?” Tristan asked.

  “Because when Hollie told her not to go near you, she burst out laughing and said you weren’t her type.”

  Warmth settled in my gut. And I desperately wanted to know what Autumn had said when Hollie had warned her off me.

  “Bullshit,” Tristan spat. “She was just covering it up well.”

  Something told me Dexter wasn’t lying. Tristan wasn’t Autumn’s type.

  But I was beginning to wonder whether I was.

  Seven

  Gabriel

  All the signs were there—the whiny voice, the hands balled into fists, and the clock about to strike seven thirty. We were about to enter Planet Meltdown.

  “Where is he, Daddy?”

  “I don’t know, darling. What about Audrey?” I asked, holding up a faded grey donkey who had seen better days.

  “I want Bear Bear,” Bethany said, talking about the grotty-looking bear Joshua had bought her when she was born that she wouldn’t be without.

  I tossed Audrey aside and pulled out everything and everyone from her soft toy box. Again. I’d done it three times, but I was grasping at straws. “I know, but Bear Bear’s not here. Where did you last have him?”

  “He was here before,” she said, peering under her bed.

  I knew I shouldn’t call Autumn. She was having a well-deserved day off, and she’d been talking all week about doing some kind of walking tour. I didn’t want to interrupt. But shouldn’t it be over by now? It was late. And I didn’t want to have to deal with Bethany losing it.

  “Let me check the bathroom again.” I padded out into the corridor and into Bethany’s bathroom. No sign of Bear Bear. “Did you go up to Autumn’s room with him?” I called out. Would it be bad to go up there and check? I didn’t want to invade her privacy. I hadn’t been into her room since she arrived. But I was slightly curious to see how she’d arranged it. Did she have photographs up or keepsakes by the bed?

  “No,” Bethany said from behind me.

  I spun around and pulled my phone from my pocket. I was going to have to call her.

  She answered on the third ring. “Hi,” she shouted over the background noise. Where was she? It sounded like a football match.

  “I’m looking for Bear Bear,” I said. “Any idea where he might be?”

  “I can’t hear you,” she shouted.

  “Bear Bear,” I said, raising my voice. “Do you know where he is?”

  “Autumn,” a man in the background called. “I don’t mind,” she called back. She hadn’t said anything about meeting a man. Did she have a date?

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  The sounds became more muffled. “I just came outside. Some of us from the tour are just having some drinks. Such a cute little pub in Whitechapel called The White Hart.”

  Was there such a thing as a cute pub in Whitechapel?

  She was having drinks with friends. That was to be expected, wasn’t it? It was good for her.

  “Well, I’m sorry to interrupt. We’re looking for Bear Bear.”

  “Oh, yes. Last place I saw him was in the playhouse. He needed a nap apparently.”

  I headed toward Bethany’s castle-shaped playhouse and dove inside. There Bear Bear was, tucked up as cozy as a bear could be. I unceremoniously pulled him from his bed.

  “Found him,” I said.

  “Bear Bear!” Bethany called.

  “Thanks,” I said as the noise on the other end of the phone increased.

  “Glad you’ve got him,” she said. She was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. A woman’s scream pierced the line.

  “You okay?”

  The phone went dead. Bloody hell. I called back but it rang out.

  “I’m tired, Daddy.”

  I followed as Bethany padded across the room and slid under the duvet. I pressed a kiss onto Bear Bear’s forehead. “Goodnight,” I said as I kissed Bethany’s cheek, wondering whether Autumn was about to call me back.

  I dimmed Bethany’s bedroom light and headed out. Before I got to the top of the stairs, I hit the call button again.

  Still no answer.

  I tried to think back to just before the line went dead. It hadn’t been her screaming, had it?

  I scrolled through the phone and called Joshua. I didn’t want to call Dexter because it was probably fine, and I didn’t want Hollie to worry. Plus Joshua was closer.

  “How are you?” he answered.

  “Can you come over?” I asked.

  “Now? Tristan’s here. We just ordered pizza.”

  “Yes, now. Please hurry.” I needed someone to watch Bethany. Autumn had grown up in the middle of nowhere from what I’d gleaned. She was young and wasn’t used to a big city. And she sure as hell didn’t know Whitechapel. If she was caught up in the middle of a bar fight—if it had been her screaming? Dexter would never forgive me if I didn’t go and find her.

  I scanned the heads of the crowd
of people in the pub. There was a circle of people in the corner in motorcycle leather. I couldn’t imagine they’d been on a walking tour. Then there was a couple of old guys in the window who looked like they were in the wrong pub, and beside them a crowd of cool kids who were no doubt vegans.

  “Have you tried calling her again?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes. She’s not picked up since the scream,” I replied, craning to see if I could spot her.

  “And it was definitely her you heard scream?”

  “Does it matter? If she’s in a situation where there’s screaming involved, there’s a problem. Can you imagine if Dexter found out that she was in some pub where there was screaming, and I just left her there?”

  Joshua didn’t reply. When I looked around, he was ordering drinks.

  “What are you doing?”

  “If I’m going to be your wingman, I need a drink.”

  “My wingman? What are you talking about? We’re here to make sure Autumn’s okay.”

  “Right,” Joshua answered, handing me a pint of Guinness. “Couldn’t possibly be that you have a crush on Hot Autumn, and you’ve lost your bollocks and won’t ask her out on a date, so you’re following her around.”

  I put my beer back on the bar. “You’re being ridiculous. She doesn’t know London. She grew up in the middle of nowhere, never been to a big city before. She could be in trouble.”

  Joshua didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

  I didn’t have time to argue with him.

  “Gabriel?”

  I snapped my head around to find Autumn looking quite bewildered. “Thank God. Are you okay?” I asked.

  The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, offsetting the slight frown she wore. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?” Her gaze flitted to Joshua, who raised his pint at her.

  “I heard a scream and a crash, and I was concerned,” I said, feeling a little foolish now I’d found her and she was patently fine. “I couldn’t get hold of you and I thought something might have happened.”

  “Where’s Bethany?”

  “Tristan’s babysitting. You seem fine though?”

  She glanced back at a table of people over on the other side of the bar. “Yeah, fine. Someone dropped their drink. That’s all. Come and join us.”

  I was an idiot. I shouldn’t be here. I’d chased across town to check on a grown woman who was completely able to look after herself. I glanced over at Joshua, who I expected to be wearing an I-told-you-so expression, but he was too busy talking to the barmaid.

  “No, thank you. We’re going to go. Just didn’t want you to be in any trouble. You’ve not been in London long and Whitechapel isn’t the most . . . Well, it’s not Mayfair.”

  She rolled her lips together as if she was editing what she was going to say next. “It’s very sweet of you to check up on me.”

  I shrugged. “I thought you were in trouble. That’s all. You’re a good nanny . . . and Bethany likes you.”

  Autumn laughed. “Oh yes, right. Wouldn’t want to lose a good nanny.”

  “That came out wrong.” I couldn’t find the right words. I’d heard the strange voice then the scream—had I put two and two together and come out with nineteen? It would seem like it, but better to be safe than sorry. Right? I tried to think whether I would have done the same for any of the other nannies we’d had over the years.

  I doubt I would have noticed a man’s voice in the background of any of the phone calls I’d had with them. Or a scream. Or breaking glass. I would have been entirely focused on Bethany and getting her to bed.

  But Autumn wasn’t like the other nannies we’d had before.

  Maybe Joshua hadn’t been so far off.

  “Well, we should go,” I said. “As you’re fine.” I tried to catch Joshua’s eye, but he was too busy flirting.

  “You could buy me a drink,” Autumn suggested.

  I looked at her, making sure I’d heard her right. It was like she was daring me to step over some unspoken line in the sand. She held my gaze as if she were willing me to set my foot down.

  No. I wasn’t here to have drinks. Flirt. Touch. I shouldn’t be here at all.

  “We’re leaving. Now it’s clear there’s nothing wrong. There’s no reason to stay.”

  “Are you sure?” Autumn asked.

  I nodded. “Joshua,” I called out. “We’re leaving.”

  What had I been thinking coming here? Autumn was a grown woman. I had no business running after her in the middle of the night and leaving my daughter. I needed to remember the promises I’d made to myself to stay away from women. My life and my daughter didn’t need complication, disappointment, and disruption.

  Eight

  Autumn

  As I wrestled with Bethany’s pink and blue swim cap, I had a pang of homesickness. It didn’t happen very often, but the summers I’d spent lifeguarding back in Oregon had been fun—perhaps the only fun bit of life in Oregon. I was bummed I wasn’t going to be in the water today. Bethany’s swimming class didn’t have parents and caregivers in the water with the students once they’d reached four.

  An image of Gabriel in swim trunks flashed into my brain. Perhaps I should suggest both of us take Bethany swimming some time.

  Neither of us had brought up the way he came after me last weekend. He’d been in bed when I’d gotten home that night, and I’d barely seen him this week. When we crossed paths in the kitchen after Bethany was asleep, he’d grunted at me before heading straight to his locked door, still without giving me any clues to what he was doing in there.

  I had a bad case of Gabriel Chase Whiplash. One minute he was caring and intimate and a little flirtatious. The next he was all cold and haughty and brick walls. I wasn’t sure which one was the real him. But I bet they’d both look great in a swimming pool.

  “There,” I said, tucking the last of Bethany’s hair up into the cap. Her hair was going to look like she’d been back combing like an extra in Hairspray, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

  “You’re going to watch me?” Bethany asked, crossing her hands over her chest and hopping from foot to foot.

  “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it, and I’m going to take lots of photos for your daddy.” I gathered up Bethany’s things, put them in a locker, and then grabbed my bag. “You ready?”

  She shivered and then grinned. “Yup.”

  I cloaked her towel around her shoulders, took her hand and we made our way out to the seated area where the parents and nannies stayed to watch. I glanced around, hoping that this lesson there would be a lifeguard on duty.

  “You need a drink?” I asked, as I dumped my bag on a seat nearest the steps.

  “No thank you. I don’t want to wee wee in the pool.”

  “If you’re thirsty, you should have a drink. You can just ask your teacher to excuse you if you need to wee wee.”

  “I’m not.” She shook her head, and I made a mental note to encourage her to drink in the lead-up to arriving to her next lesson. I didn’t want her dehydrated. It was only a forty-minute lesson, but she needed to be alert the entire time. “I really want to dive from the edge again. You’ll take a picture of me jumping in for Daddy?”

  “I will, Bethany, but I want you to listen to your teacher and only dive when she tells you to.”

  She nodded excitedly and I smiled, glancing around for that lifeguard I kinda knew wasn’t going to arrive. The lesson only had ten children and two instructors, but it niggled me there wasn’t someone outside the water who was looking over everything.

  The children filed out one after another and lined up at the edge of the pool. It was such a shame Gabriel wasn’t here. He’d be so proud of Bethany. She was confident and sensible and when she dipped to whisper to the girl who was standing next to her, I knew she was encouraging her. She was a good kid. Well behaved. Kind. And she loved her daddy.

  The same as last week, the class started with some basic safety reminders similar to the kids’ lessons
back in Oregon, and then just like last week, the instructor in the swimsuit slipped into the pool, while the other kept her red shorts on and stayed poolside.

  Bethany glanced over at me as the kids at the far end of the line began to jump into the pool from standing up. I nodded, trying to be encouraging. I knew she’d prefer to try a sitting dive, but she’d get a chance later on.

  She jumped in and I got the perfect, mid-air shot that Gabriel would love. He’d told me a couple of times that the next best thing to being with Bethany himself was getting the pictures I took. And while being a nanny wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind for a job, getting feedback like that—helping a father enjoy his child—was far more rewarding than I expected. I was lucky to know Bethany and Gabriel. Lucky to get to spend time with them both. Being paid was a bonus.

  My phone buzzed and I glanced down to see a message from Hollie. I’d pick it up later. I wanted to focus on Bethany and her lesson and . . . I just felt better knowing I had my eye on her at all times.

  They started the lesson having each student take turns collecting a colored band from the bottom of the pool. The water came up to their chests, so they were never out of their depth, but it was a good exercise for water confidence from what I could tell. The kids were well-behaved and seemed to be enjoying themselves, taking huge breaths before they sank below the surface. Next was five-meter swimming. When it was Bethany’s turn, she swam like a champ, albeit a champ with a haphazard doggie paddle. As soon as she touched the side, she looked over at me, checking I had seen her. I grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

  The boy who was up next swam half of the five meters underwater and almost reached the side before changing course and swimming into Bethany. He began pulling at her in a slightly panicky way. I was already on my feet when the instructor in the pool lifted the boy up and out of the water, sitting him on the side.

  I exhaled and sat back down. Jesus, I wished I was just in there with her. I might talk to Gabriel about taking her swimming at weekends or something. The sooner she swam strongly, the better.

 

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