Lucy looked back the way they’d walked unseeingly. ‘I’d like to see Abby.’
‘Good.’
‘And you can meet Chloe. But later. I can’t do it now. Not now.’
His eyes softened and she felt the panic recede again. Dominic Grayling was a man to be trusted. The words popped into her head and they were comforting.
‘First you must have Chloe checked out. Let’s know what we are playing with.’
Lucy kept looking at his eyes, as though they were a life raft that was going to stop her being smashed against the jagged rocks. ‘She was a very healthy baby.’
‘That’s good, then, isn’t it? Let’s just make sure.’
‘I want to go home now.’
Dominic pulled a notepad from his pocket and finished filling out his name and address. ‘Here,’ he said, passing it across.
Dr Dominic Grayling. ‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Not of medicine. I did a PhD. May I have your address?’
Lucy kept staring at the paper. ‘Grayling. That’s what Dr Shorrock meant. I hadn’t realised before.’ She looked back up at him. ‘He said ‘‘possibly there was some confusion over the names’’. I’m Grayford.’
‘Yes.’
She sighed. ‘It doesn’t seem possible, does it?’ Taking his pen, she wrote swiftly. ‘We live in Shropshire.’
Dominic accepted the notebook back. ‘Will you be all right getting home? Is your husband in London with you?’
‘Michael? No.’ Lucy pulled her bag up on to her shoulder and pushed her hands down into the depths of her pockets. ‘Oh, no, Michael’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Michael died just before Chloe’s fifth birthday.’ She was really quite proud of the way she held her voice steady. ‘I understand how you feel about Abby. I really do. Chloe’s all I have too. I’m never going to let her go.’
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY glanced down at her watch and noticed with a jolt that it was already past seven. It was more than a jolt—she actually felt sick when she saw how late it was.
She’d meant to be so calm when she met Dominic again. She’d meant to be well groomed and in complete control but all her good intentions had turned to dust. Time had just flown by—in the way it always seemed to do when you knew there was something difficult ahead, she reflected as she searched out the small figure of her daughter in the middle of the play park. She was going to have to rush to be ready in time.
‘Five minutes, Clo, and then we need to go to Grandma’s,’ she called out as she stood up to pack away their picnic things.
It was doubtful whether Chloe heard. Her feet were taking her in the direction of the giant slide, her blonde hair streaming out behind her. Lucy smiled. Nothing troubled Chloe’s world and she was determined to keep it that way. Whatever Dominic Grayling had to say this evening. Whatever any court of law had to say on the subject, she’d keep her safe and happy.
‘Chloe, it’s time to go. Five more minutes and that’s it,’ she called again.
Turning to reach for the picnic mat she stilled, suddenly aware of a solitary figure watching them. Perhaps her imagination had conjured him up? She was late, but not that late. He shouldn’t be here. Not now. Dominic wouldn’t do this without arranging it with her first. Would he? She had to be hallucinating, and yet…
With a fatalistic shrug the solitary figure started walking towards her until its identity became obvious.
‘Hi,’ Dominic said as he got close enough to speak.
His calm greeting fanned the tiny spark of anger into a fierce spurt. ‘What are you doing here? You’re more than an hour early.’
‘Curiosity.’
‘How dare you do this? You could be anyone, as far as Chloe’s concerned. You could have scared her.’
‘I’m sorry.’
But he didn’t seem sorry. He seemed so relaxed, so completely in control, so…so what she’d wanted to be when they’d met. ‘What if Chloe had noticed you watching her?’
‘She didn’t.’
‘You can’t know that.’
‘I’m sure she didn’t.’ He turned to look at her, his blue eyes narrowed astutely. ‘Have I scared you?’
His question caught her off guard. Was her anger really all about her? How she felt? She made a quick analysis of her feelings before deciding on honesty. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘For being here or for scaring me?’
But already her anger had dissipated. As a disembodied voice on the telephone Dominic Grayling still had charm, but in person it was more evident. His hair was an indeterminate sandy brown but his bone structure was strong and characterful. A man to trust. A face to paint, she thought inconsequentially. And of course they shared a common bond in their children. It was only natural she should feel a connection to him. As his face relaxed into a lopsided grin she felt the last shreds of her irritation pass—and yet surely that was illogical.
‘I couldn’t sit around at home any longer, and then the traffic from London was so clear I made much better time than I’d anticipated. I should have stopped at a service station and waited the time out, but I couldn’t resist getting here earlier.’
Lucy hated the way she was letting him get away with spying on her. He should have walked down the hill and made sure she knew he was there instead of keeping his distance and watching. Better still, he should have stayed in London until it was really time to leave; he should have been held up on the motorway in a ten-mile traffic jam; he should have got lost at least a dozen times before he arrived at her house…
She turned her back. ‘Do you want a coffee? There’s some left in the flask.’
‘I decided to walk about a bit. I didn’t know you were here, Lucy.’
She turned back to him, hearing the coaxing, warm note to his voice. Sexy. Where had that come from? She didn’t think like that about men any more. It was disloyal to Michael. It was too soon.
And Dominic Grayling wasn’t sexy. He was, no doubt, a perfectly pleasant man, but he wasn’t particularly special and he was a stranger to her. She had to remember that. She might feel she’d known him for months but the reality was different. ‘So, as soon as you knew I was, you walked away?’
‘Would you?’ he asked on a slight smile.
She wouldn’t, of course. The temptation to stand, unseen, to watch Abigail, would have been impossible to resist. To search for physical signs that would really make it possible to believe with her whole heart she belonged to her. Had it been like that for Dominic? Had he found them in Chloe?
‘You’re right; she’s beautiful.’
Lucy hugged the picnic rug to her. ‘Yes. Yes, she is.’
‘She’s got the same ash-blonde hair as Eloise.’
‘Oh.’
He looked at her quickly. ‘Was that the wrong thing to say?’
‘Of course not. It’s just…well, I’m sure you know,’ she finished weakly, unaware of Chloe’s small figure running up to join them.
‘Are we going