The silence stretched. If only there were something to say, something she could do to make it all go away. This was the point at which her alarm bells should be ringing. That little tug at her heartstrings always meant trouble. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall completely in love with her charge again this time.
If getting inside a child’s mind was her strength, the fact she let them too far into her heart was her weakness. Too many times she’d been left heartbroken when a family moved overseas or didn’t need her any more.
She was older and wiser now; she should be past this. And maybe, if David hadn’t kept putting off the issue of children, she would have been. It was probably down to the overly-loud ticking of her biological clock that she was ignoring all the old warning signals. If she had any sense, she would excuse herself and return to London—leave this family to someone who could look at them objectively, help them without getting too emotionally involved. It would be better for Luke and Heather in the long run too.
‘I’d better go and see to my errant daughter.’ He pushed the chair back and stood up.
He looked so lost, so unsure of what to do, that Gaby put a hand on his arm to stall him. ‘Let me go.’ The least she could do before she left was help defuse the current situation.
He started to shake his head, but then he said, ‘Okay. Heather’s room is on the left at the top of the stairs.’
She crept up the stairs, stood outside the door, took a deep breath and knocked gently.
‘Go away! I don’t want to speak to you!’
‘Heather? It’s me—Gaby.’
‘Oh.’
‘Can I come in?’
The door edged open and Heather poked her nose in the gap. ‘It’s a bit messy.’
Gaby smiled. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that. You should have seen my room when I was your age. My mum used to have an awful go at me. In the end I just shoved it all in the cupboard and hoped no one opened the door. If they had, they would have been buried in an avalanche of clothes and toys!’
Heather gasped and her eyes got even bigger and rounder.
‘Believe it, kid, you’ve got nothing on me.’
The door swung wide and Gaby walked in. She perched on the edge of a bed decked in pink and frilly bed-clothes. Heather grimaced. ‘He thinks I’m still a baby.’
‘I’m sure he doesn’t think you’re a baby. He was probably trying very hard to make things nice for you.’
Heather made a gagging noise and rolled her eyes, but when her face returned to normal her expression had softened. ‘Are you really going to be my nanny?’
‘Well—’
‘I don’t need looking after, you know. I’m all right on my own.’
Did no one in this house ever let you finish a sentence?
She swivelled to face Heather. ‘I know that. But your dad has to have someone in the house while he’s out at work. He’s not allowed to leave you alone, you know.’
‘’Spose so.’
‘Why don’t we go downstairs and chat to your dad about it?’
‘You can talk to him, if you like.’
It might have sounded as if Heather were reluctant to make peace with her father, but Gaby saw the ache in her eyes. She desperately wanted to be able to open up to him; she just didn’t know how. What had it been like for her while her father had been in prison? How often had she seen him? Had she been carted along in her best dress and told to tell him she was being a good girl?
No wonder they couldn’t communicate with each other. They’d probably spent years being on their best behaviour, each making sure the other didn’t know how they were suffering.
When they reached the kitchen, Luke was so surprised his mouth dropped open. Gaby thought it was a shame he recovered quickly. Too quickly. It would have done Heather good to see the look on his face—that same aching expression she’d been wearing just moments before.
Heather opened the fridge door and stuck her head inside. ‘I’m hungry.’
Luke looked at Heather and then at Gaby. ‘Would you like to stay for dinner? It would be a good chance to get to know us better. Start afresh.’
She was going to decline, say she needed to get back to her car, but she saw Heather’s face above the fridge door and stopped short. The girl’s eyes were wide, as if she were waiting for something important, like the results of a spelling test. When Gaby nodded, she glowed.
‘Heather, why don’t you show Gaby the house, while I get the food ready?’
Heather let the fridge door swing closed and tugged Gaby by the hand.
‘Come on. I’ll show you the terrace. It’s cool.’
Gaby thought the terrace was way more than cool. The flat roof above the kitchen had been turned into a seating area with railings and a stunning view of the River Dart. The light was fading and a gold sun glowed through dense grey clouds. Gaby breathed in the salty air. She could tell it was only a couple of miles to the estuary.
The terrace could be reached directly from two of the bedrooms on the first floor: the master bedroom, which she didn’t look in—it felt too much like snooping—and a guest bedroom. A flight of stairs led down to the kitchen door, making it a great place to have breakfast when the weather improved.
She went still. It looked as if her subconscious was already planning on staying, whether the rest of her liked it or not. That wasn’t a good sign.
The rest of the house was just as impressive. It had an unusual layout and a kind of quirky charm. The best feature by far was the little area just outside the back door. A flight of steps led down to a flat area with rings to tie boats to. At that moment the tide was out and she could see more steps that led down on to the stony beach. But when the tide was up, you could row right up to it and skip straight into the house—like Venice!
Gaby frowned. Another rogue thought of her ex intruded. The only time she’d been to Venice had been with David. He’d liked the first-class holidays and exotic destinations. Although she suspected it was more for the dinner party stories he could tell later, than for the experience itself. He hadn’t stopped moaning the week they’d stayed in Venice; it had sucked all the joy out of it for her.
Both Gaby and Heather didn’t need to be called when dinner was ready. Smells were emanating from the kitchen and Gaby’s tummy suddenly rumbled. She hadn’t stopped to eat on the journey down here—not even a plastic sandwich at a service station. She’d been too intent on making it to Lower Hadwell before dark.
They arrived back in the kitchen just in time to see Luke slapping pizza slices on to plates. Her appetite took a nosedive. It looked like the worst sort of convenience food. Luke and Heather didn’t seem to mind. They attacked their share with relish.
Gaby gingerly put a slice to her lips. Anaemic cheese and a cardboard base. Yuck! Still, she wasn’t going to be rude. She took as big a bite as she dared and chewed the minimum amount of times before swallowing.
‘Is there any salad?’
Two pairs of eyes locked on to her. She might as well have asked them if they wanted a side order of slugs. Vegetables were obviously a foreign concept in this household.
‘Never mind. This is…lovely.’
She looked out of the window to try and take her mind off the artificial taste. The sky was a beautiful