Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lynne Marshall
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008900625
Скачать книгу
It was on the news. I wondered if they’d call him in.’

      She nodded. ‘He was there earlier this year, and they want him there again. He knows it well, apparently. It makes sense, but…’

      Dan searched her face, then dragged her into his arms and hugged her. ‘So what about Kizzy? Are you looking after her until he’s back?’

      ‘Yes, but…’ She felt the sob beginning to rise and swallowed it down. ‘He said I was right. He’s going to put her up for adoption. Oh, Dan, what on earth have I done?’

      She looked up at him, expecting condemnation, but this was Dan. He just shrugged. ‘Helped him organise his priorities?’

      ‘And Kizzy? What about Kizzy?’ She swallowed again and stared down at the sleeping baby in her carrier, then answered her own question. ‘I guess she’ll end up somewhere with a couple who are desperate for a baby. And they’ll love her to bits—’

      She broke off, and Dan sighed and rubbed her arms comfortingly. ‘She’ll be fine, Em.’

      ‘But she might not be. What if they split up? What if she ends up in the middle of a divorce?’

      ‘She’ll be brought up by a single parent. It hasn’t done Beth and Freddie any harm.’

      She frowned. ‘But—what if she doesn’t have the infrastructure I’ve got? The family and friends, giving support?’

      He gave a bemused laugh and shook his head. ‘You’re making a hell of a lot of assumptions here. They might be fantastic parents.’

      But she wouldn’t see her again. Ever.

      She shook her head and turned away. ‘I’m going to put her down in the study and get some breakfast. Thank you for looking after the kids.’

      ‘Any time. But next time you might let me know you’re going.’

      ‘There won’t be a next time,’ she said firmly, and went into the study, put the baby down and then caught sight of the television through the sitting-room doorway. They were showing scenes of the earthquake, and she sat down, hands knotted together, and watched it.

      It was dreadful. Scene after scene of devastation. She felt gutted for them, but more than ever afraid for Harry. What if there was another one? There often was.

      She was aware of Dan coming up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, watching it with her. ‘I’ve made you fresh tea,’ he said.

      ‘Thanks.’

      ‘Come on, he’s not there yet. He won’t be there for hours.’

      He was right. He’d said it was a twelve-hour flight, and then he had to get in and out of the airports. It would be tomorrow morning before he appeared on TV. She turned off the television, went through to the kitchen and gave the kids a hug. Freddie gave her one of his special sticky kisses, and Beth snuggled up beside her while she ate her breakfast, mechanically spooning in the cereal without even tasting it.

      And he hadn’t even left the country yet!

      Nick phoned at eleven, when she’d just put Freddie down for a nap and she was working on his plan, Beth at her side colouring.

      ‘Hi,’ he said, sounding exhausted and yet euphoric. ‘Just had to let you know—Georgie’s had a little girl—three point seven kilos, or eight-three in old money, and they’re both doing really well.’ He hesitated. ‘We’ve called her Lucie, after my sister.’

      ‘Oh, Nick, that’s lovely!’ she said, her eyes filling. ‘When’s she coming home?’

      ‘This afternoon. She’s absolutely fine, and I’m around and so are my mother and her father, so I’m going to pick her up around three.’

      She felt herself welling up. ‘Give her my love, and tell her I’ll come and see her tomorrow some time, the minute I can get away.’

      ‘You running out on me again?’ Dan said, lolling in the doorway behind her. ‘It’s a good job I haven’t gone to London yet.’

      She smiled at him as she cradled the phone. ‘Georgie and Nick have had a little girl. I’m not going far. I thought I’d drop in and see her in the morning. If you don’t mind looking after the kids?’

      He smiled. ‘Of course I don’t mind. We could walk down and they could play with the others for a few minutes, and then maybe we could go on the beach.’

      Except she’d be tortured by images of Harry—Harry buried up to the neck in sand, Harry running into the sea, Harry skimming pebbles with the children, showing off, Harry—just Harry, everywhere she looked.

      ‘Sounds lovely,’ she said, just for Beth. ‘That would be nice, wouldn’t it?’

      ‘Can I hold the baby?’

      ‘Not tomorrow, probably. She’ll be too tiny.’

      ‘Kizzy’s tiny,’ she pointed out truthfully. ‘And I hold her.’

      ‘We’ll see,’ she said automatically, and Beth pouted.

      ‘You mean no.’

      ‘No, I mean I’ll see what Georgie has to say about it. It’s her baby, after all, and Dickon and Harry will want to hold her. That’s a lot of holding for a tiny baby. Right, how about a drink and a biscuit to celebrate?’

      Harry wasn’t on the ten-o’clock news, but he was on the satellite news at midnight.

      He must have scarcely landed, and he was flying by helicopter to the epicenter of the earthquake, jammed in amongst aid workers.

      ‘This is the only way to get here,’ he was saying, shouting over the noise of the aircraft, ‘because the roads are rubble. They’ve only just cleared them after the last quake, and now the people of this devastated region are facing destruction and ruin yet again. Down below us everything is flattened, as far as the eye can see. Trees are down, rivers have altered course yet again and every village is showing more signs of destruction. I’m going back to the small community I stayed in last time, to see just how much damage has been done, but early reports aren’t good. This is Harry Kavenagh, reporting to you from somewhere over Indonesia.’

      The report went to cover other areas, showing more pictures of the damage, but Emily had seen enough. She’d seen him, in his element, back where he belonged.

      Being him.

      Her eyes pricked with tears, and she blinked hard and turned off the television with an angry stab at the remote.

      Dan flicked her a glance, opened his mouth and shut it again. ‘Tea?’ he said eventually, and she nodded.

      ‘Thanks.’

      But she couldn’t drink it. She just felt sick, because she’d lost him, and they were on opposite sides of the world.

      ‘I’m going to feed Kizzy and get to bed,’ she said, and went to the fridge. One last bottle after this. She contemplated Buttercup, but frankly she was too tired. She’d do it later, when she’d fed Kizzy.

      But she didn’t. She was exhausted, struggling to stay awake long enough to feed and change her, and then when she fell into bed she slept so soundly she didn’t wake for hours.

      Kizzy was starting to cry, and Dan and her children were still asleep, so she crept downstairs, got the bottle out of the fridge and put it in the microwave to heat. She flicked on the television, and there Harry was again, on the early breakfast news, describing the damage sustained by the little town.

      She heard the microwave ping and, still watching the screen through the open doors, she went into the kitchen and took out the bottle, but as she turned back, her watch caught on the door and the bottle spun out of her hand and shattered on the floor.

      She stared at it blankly. How could it shatter? They were unbreakable—unless it had