And behind them came Georgie, older of course but still essentially the same, a baby in her arms. He unfolded himself from the seat and stood up, and with a little cry of welcome she hugged him with her free arm, her smile open and friendly.
‘Harry! Emily said you were back—oh, it’s so good to see you again. Welcome back to Yoxburgh. Come on in and meet Nick—Oh, and this is the baby!’ she added, peering into the car. ‘Oh, Harry, she’s lovely!’
The baby in her arms was pretty gorgeous, too, and when she burrowed her head in her mother’s shoulder and then peeped at him and giggled, he couldn’t help responding. ‘So who’s this?’ he asked after a moment or two of pee-boo-ing and giggles.
‘Maya,’ Georgie said. ‘Aren’t you? She can say her name now. Tell Harry who you are.’
‘Harry,’ the baby said, swivelling round and pointing, and burrowed into her shoulder again. Still smiling, he followed the direction she’d pointed in and met a challenging stare.
‘You’ve got my name,’ the boy said, his head tilting to one side. ‘I’m Harry.’
Harry grinned. ‘Is that right?’
He nodded.
‘Well, in that case I think you must have my name, since I had it about twenty something years before you needed it, but hey, that’s cool, I don’t mind sharing. It’s a good name, it would be mean to keep it to myself.’
They swapped grins, and then he was introduced to Dickon, Harry’s younger brother, and Em’s daughter Beth.
So many children—and now it was his turn. He got the carrier out of the car, turned it towards them all and said with a curious feeling of rightness, ‘This is Kizzy. She’s my daughter.’
‘Is Emily her mummy?’ Dickon asked, puzzled, and Harry shook his head.
Should he say this? Hell, these kids had lost their mother only a year or so ago. Was it really fair to dredge it all up?
Yes. Because life wasn’t fair, and the truth would come out at some point, he was sure, so he shook his head again and said gently, ‘Her mother died.’
‘Our mummy’s dead,’ Dickon said matter-of-factly. ‘Georgie’s our new mummy. Is Emily going to be Kizzy’s new mummy?’
Emily laughed, the sound a little strained to his ears, and started towards the house. ‘Heavens, no! I’ve got enough on my plate with Beth and Freddie, haven’t I, darling?’
Beth slipped her hand into her mother’s and snuggled closer. ‘Babies are nice, though. Georgie’s having a baby.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ Em said firmly. Too firmly? He didn’t know. All he knew was that all this blatant fecundity should have sent him running—and it didn’t. And the idea of Emily being Kizzy’s new mummy was suddenly extraordinarily appealing…
‘Lovely house.’
Nick looked around and smiled the smile of a supremely contented man. ‘It is, isn’t it? Georgie and her father did the work for us, and we love it. I thought it was ridiculously big at first, but with all the kids and another on the way and my mother living with us and working here, and me working from home at first, frankly if it was any smaller it wouldn’t be big enough.’
For a man who’d evidently been a bachelor a little more than a year ago, he seemed extraordinarily happy with the way things had turned out. They were in the garden, sitting in the shade of a big old tree and looking out over the sea, and every few seconds his eyes would stray to his family, an indulgent smile touching his mouth.
Harry could understand that. His own eyes kept straying to Em and her children, her revelation about their father still ringing in his ears.
He walked—well, ran, actually. I haven’t seen lightning move so fast.
Bastard. Fancy leaving them. Although maybe it had been better to leave them with Emily who clearly adored them than to stay and make them feel unloved and unwanted, and then at the first opportunity pack them off to boarding school and to their grandparents in the holidays…
‘So where are you staying? Georgie said something about your grandmother’s house.’
He wrenched himself back to the present and gave a rueful smile. ‘Well, that was the idea, but it’s had tenants since she died ten years ago and I haven’t been back since the funeral. To be honest, it was a bit of a shock, seeing it. The agents told me it needed some cosmetic attention, but I think they were erring on the kind side. It needs gutting, frankly, so I think we’ll have to rent something.’
Georgie lifted her head and frowned at him. ‘Is it really that bad?’
‘It needs total redecoration, and if I’m going to live there long term it’ll need a new kitchen and bathroom at least, but for now a lick of paint and some clean carpets would work wonders. I don’t suppose your father knows anyone reliable?’
Her eyes flicked to her husband’s. ‘We could send in the A-team.’
Nick chuckled. ‘Indeed. We’ve got a whole range of trades,’ he explained. ‘They’re used to working together, they do a good job, their prices are reasonable and at the moment they’re not busy because there’s been a hold-up on a development. So—yeah, if you want, we could send them along to give you a quote.’
‘Fantastic. That would be great.’
And if they could do half at a time, he could stay there. It was summer, after all, and he and the baby could spend most of their time in the garden.
He didn’t let himself think too much about why it seemed so important to stay there rather than rent another house—one that wouldn’t be next to Em. After all, she’d already made it clear she wasn’t interested in being Kizzy’s new mummy.
Not that he was about to ask her, or had even really thought about it for more than a moment, but he thought about it now—couldn’t think about anything else, in fact, however foolish he knew it was. If he had any sense he’d keep well out of her way and not indulge the foolish fantasy that they, too, could have a fairy tale ending like Georgie and Nick…
Emily was stunned.
If I’m going to live there long term?
He was considering it? Really?
She’d thought he was back for a few days—just a quick visit to sort out the house ready for the next tenants. It had never occurred to her that he might be coming back for any length of time—or maybe even for good!
But if he was back for good—no. She couldn’t let herself think about it. Daren’t let herself think about it, because her heart couldn’t take any more. She’d been stupid over Harry Kavenagh once too often, and she wasn’t going to do it again.
‘So when can you start?’
‘Tomorrow? We’ll strip all the wallpaper and rip out the old floorcoverings, decorate throughout and then you’ll be ready for the new carpets. Should take a week at the most with the team on it.’
‘A week?’
‘Uh-huh. Some of the windows need quite a bit of work, unless you’re going to replace them?’
‘Um—I hadn’t intended to. I was hoping to live here while you do it.’
‘With the baby?’ The foreman shook his head. ‘No. Sorry, I really wouldn’t recommend it. Not with all the old lead paint. It’s OK when it’s left alone, but when it’s disturbed it can be harmful