‘Bring the bottle. I’ll hold her while you get it, it’s all right.’
He hesitated for a second, then went, squeezing through the gate and returning a few moments later with a bottle. ‘I don’t know if it’s the right temperature,’ he said, handing it over, and Emily tested it on the inside of her wrist and frowned.
‘It’s too cold. I’ll go and warm it. Keep an eye on Freddie for me.’
She went into the kitchen, gave the bottle a few seconds in the microwave, shook it vigorously and tested it again, then slipped the teat into the baby’s mouth, silencing her cries instantly.
Good.
She went back down the garden and found Harry on his knees with Freddie, playing in the sandpit. As she walked down the garden he sat back on his heels and looked up at her with a relieved smile.
‘Sounds peaceful.’
She laughed and settled herself on the bench, watching them and trying not to let her stupid thoughts run away with her.
‘Did you love her?’ she asked, then wanted to bite her tongue off, but he just sat back again and stared at her as if she was crazy.
‘She was a child, Em. I married her for her own protection. Yes, I grew to love her, but not in the way you mean. It was just a legal formality, nothing more. I never touched her.’
She felt a knot of something letting go inside her, but she didn’t want to think about the significance of that. She turned her attention back to the tiny scrap in her arms. The bottle was almost empty, the tiny amount she’d drunk surely not enough to keep her alive, but she was so small, her stomach must be the size of a walnut. Smaller.
She lifted her against her shoulder and rubbed her back, waiting for the burp and watching Harry as he piled sand into the bucket with Freddie and helped him turn it out.
‘Mummy, castle!’ Freddie shrieked, and the baby bobbed her head against Emily’s shoulder, her whole body stiffening in shock. She soothed her with a stroking hand, rocking her and smiling at Freddie.
‘I can see,’ she said softly.
‘How about a moat?’
‘Wasa moat?’ he asked, and Harry chuckled.
‘It’s like a big ditch full of water that goes all round the outside—here, like this,’ he said, scraping out a hollow ring around the slightly wonky castle.
‘You made one on the beach with Dickon and Maya last week,’ Emily pointed out, and Freddie nodded and scrambled to his feet.
‘Mummy, water!’ he demanded, running to her with his cup, but Harry got up and grinned and ruffled his hair.
‘Let her sit there for a minute. We’ll get the water. Come with me and show me where the tap is,’ he said, and held out his hand.
Freddie, normally the last person to allow such a familiarity, slid his hand trustingly into Harry’s and trotted happily beside him, chattering all the way to the kitchen.
Emily glanced down at the baby, sleeping again, her tiny face snuggled into the crook of her neck so that she could feel the soft skin, the warm huff of her breath, the damp little mouth, and the ache in her chest grew until she had to swallow hard to shift it.
‘Poor baby,’ she crooned, cradling her head with a protective hand. ‘Don’t worry, darling. We’ll look after you.’
She didn’t even think about the words. They came straight from her heart, bypassing her common sense, and as she rocked the baby in her arms, she felt a sense of rightness that should have rung alarm bells, but the bells were switched off, and the warning went unheeded.
Freddie was delicious.
Bright and bubbly, his fair hair sticking up on one side as if he’d slept on it. It was soft and unruly, much like Harry’s own, and it felt just right under his hand.
‘’Nough?’ Freddie asked, and Harry nodded, looking at the jug he’d found.
‘I think it’s enough.’
But, of course, it sank straight into the sand, and Freddie’s excitement turned to disappointment.
‘Mummy!’ he wailed, running to her and throwing himself at her knees, and Harry felt racked with guilt because he’d suggested it and it had failed and now the boy was upset. Damn. Could he do nothing right?
Em looked up at him with an apologetic smile. ‘There’s a cake ring in the drawer under the oven,’ she told him. ‘It should just about fit over the castle. You could use that and fill it with water.’
So they went back up to the kitchen, and found the cake ring, and with a bit of adjustment they fitted it over the sandcastle and filled it with water, and even found a stick to make a drawbridge and floated a leaf in it as a boat.
And the look on Freddie’s face was priceless. ‘Boat!’ he said, and ran to his mother yet again, his eyes alight. ‘Mummy, boat!’ Ook!’
Emily looked, admired it dutifully and threw Harry a smile over Freddie’s head, then stood up. ‘I have to get Beth,’ she said, ‘and I think this little one needs her daddy’s attention.’
There was a spreading stain below her nappy, and Harry’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure if there was a washing machine in the house, and she’d only got a few clothes. Clearly, at this rate he was going to have to buy a whole lot more!
‘Fancy company? If I change her quickly, could I come, too? And afterwards, if you were feeling really kind, you could point me in the direction of the nearest supermarket or baby shop so I can buy her more stuff.’
‘Sure. I was going to walk, but we can take the car. I’ll give Georgie a ring and warn her we might be late.’
He nodded, took the baby from her gingerly and went through the fence. She was starting to fuss, but she settled once he’d changed her and put her in the carrier, and he met Emily on the drive just as she was putting Freddie into his seat.
‘Can we squeeze this in?’
‘This?’ she said with a chuckle, taking the carrier from him. ‘Poor baby, what a way to talk about you! He’s a bad daddy.’
She hoisted it into the car and strapped it in, then got behind the wheel. He slid in beside her, shifting so he could watch her. ‘So where are we going?’
‘A friend’s—actually, Georgie Cauldwell. Do you remember her? Her father’s a builder—we used to go and crawl around on the building sites when we were kids.’
He nodded. ‘I remember her—small but fiery. Brown hair, green eyes, lots of personality?’
She shot him a look. ‘You do remember her. Very well. Did you have a thing about her, Harry?’
He laughed softly. ‘Hardly. You were more than enough trouble for me.’ He looked away. ‘So what’s she doing now?’
‘She’s married to a guy from London with pots of money. He’s a darling. They’ve got three kids that were his sister’s, but she was killed on the way home from hospital when she had the last one. It was awful. Anyway, they’ve adopted them and Georgie’s pregnant now, so it’s just as well they’ve got this big house.’
She swung into the drive of a huge Victorian villa overlooking the sea and cut the engine. Two boys came running over with a little girl he knew instantly must be Beth. She was every inch her mother’s daughter, from the soft dark curls that tumbled round her shoulders to the twinkling, mischievous eyes that reminded him so much of Em when he’d first met her.
And behind them came Georgie, older of course but still essentially the same, a baby in her arms. He unfolded himself from