‘No, Maisie. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you’re adopted,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s simply that—’
Maisie lifted her head and looked straight into her eyes. ‘I think that’s why Harry doesn’t want me,’ she said.
Jacqui was shocked to the core, and her automatic response was, ‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.’ But even as she said the words she remembered the way he’d looked at Maisie as she’d waited in the car. His blank, emotionless response. Remembered the way Maisie had slid down in the seat as if to hide from him.
If she’d given the matter any consideration at all, she’d have assumed that even bad-tempered giants in story books had family feelings…
OK, so she was family by adoption. Jacqui tried to remember everything she’d read about that. There had been plenty of coverage in the lifestyle magazines at the time, but precious little in the way of detail that she could recall…
Not that who Maisie was, or where she came from was any excuse for Harry Talbot’s behaviour.
Harry.
The name didn’t suit him at all, she decided. It had a warm, cuddly feel to it. It was the name of a man who’d give you a hug when you were miserable, tell you good stories, know the words of every single nursery rhyme. It wasn’t the name of a man who’d reject a little girl because she was adopted…
Actually, she couldn’t think of a name horrible enough for a man like that and she wanted to hug this little girl so hard…Show her that at least one person in the world cared what happened to her. In other words, a straight-from-the-heart emotional reaction to the situation.
Not good.
Fighting it, she folded herself up and, instead of enveloping the child in a hug, sat on the lowest step so that she was level with Maisie. Then, taking her hands, she held them in her own and in the most matter-of-fact voice she could muster, said, ‘Just you listen here, Maisie Talbot. It wouldn’t make one jot of difference to me if you were sky-blue-pink with green hair and purple spots, do you understand?’
Maisie regarded her steadily for long moments. Then she gave a couldn’t-care-less little shrug and said, ‘OK.’
Not an overwhelming endorsement of trust, but what did she expect? There were no instant results with children. Trust had to be earned. She’d just have to show the child that she was genuine and, since she suspected that glossing over the situation was not going to impress Maisie one bit, she’d start with the truth.
‘You’re a smart girl, so I’m not going to mince words. We’ve got a problem. This is the way it is. The plan was simply for me to bring you here and hand you over to your grandmother. You know that I wasn’t supposed to stay here, not even for a little while, don’t you?’
She shrugged again, this time staring at her shoes and refusing to meet her gaze. ‘I s’pose.’
‘It’s not because I don’t like you, it’s not because you’re black, it’s because I’m supposed to be catching a plane in…’ she glanced at her watch and realised that time was fast running out ‘…well, quite soon.’
‘Like my mother.’ It was a flat, expressionless statement that suggested she was someone else who was flying off and abandoning her. Not fair. But then, in Maisie’s shoes, she probably wouldn’t give a hoot about what was fair, either.
‘Well, no.’ Nothing like Selina Talbot, who’d be flying first class—probably with a sky bed—and would arrive in Beijing looking a lot fresher and more relaxed than she would after being crammed in like a sardine for three hours on a charter flight. ‘Your mother is working, which is really, really important. I was only going as far as Spain…’ already she was talking about it in the past tense ‘…for a holiday.’
‘Oh.’ She seemed momentarily crestfallen, but immediately brightened and said, ‘Do you have to go to Spain? It’s nice having holidays here.’ Then, presumably remembering that Harry was in residence. ‘Usually.’
‘I’m sure it is. For you. When your grandma is here.’ Then, because this didn’t seem enough, somehow, ‘And you’ve got your lovely pony to ride.’
‘There are loads of other animals. We don’t have any at home because London isn’t a good place for them, but my mother is always rescuing them and sending them here because Grandma has loads of room. There are dogs and cats and chickens and ducks and rabbits…’ Her little face suddenly lit up as she raised her hands in an expansive gesture. ‘Even some donkeys that are worn out from giving children rides on a beach somewhere.’ Then, ‘But if you have to go…’ Her little hands dropped and the bright expression faded. ‘I’ll understand.’
Double bedknobs′
‘Thank you, Maisie, but I’m not going anywhere until you’ve got someone to take care of you, OK?’
She didn’t look up, but instead jabbed one satin toe into the threadbare carpet. ‘Even if it means you miss your plane?’
‘Even if it means I miss my plane,’ she assured her. What choice did she have?
‘You promise?’
I promise.
Two little words that once uttered to a child must never, ever be broken. Two little words that had to be used with the utmost care and forethought because sometimes it was beyond your power to keep them…
But Maisie was waiting anxiously for her response and the truth was that she wasn’t going anywhere until she was happy with the arrangements for this child’s care. It wasn’t a lifetime commitment.
‘I promise, Maisie.’
‘OK.’ Then, ‘And if you can’t find anyone else, you’ll stay and look after me until my mother comes home, won’t you?’
‘Did you find everything you needed?’
Jacqui didn’t think she’d ever be pleased to see Harry Talbot; she wasn’t, but she was very glad of the interruption and she stood up quickly.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘You’d better go on through to the kitchen, then and warm up.’ He looked down at the child from his great height and she thought of the men in her own family who would have swooped down, picked her up, made her laugh. ‘Hello, Maisie.’
Jacqui felt Maisie’s hand creep into hers as she dropped her eyes and said, ‘Hello, Harry.’ Then, ‘Can I see Meg’s puppies?’
Puppies, rabbits, donkeys and her own special pony. It was easy to see why Maisie wanted to stay here…
But what had happened to the llama?
‘She’s out in the stables. I’m not taking you out there dressed like that.’
‘She could change,’ Jacqui said. ‘If you’d be kind enough to fetch her bag in from my car. It’s not locked.’
Harry Talbot gave her the kind of look that warned her not to take him for a fool and said, ‘I’ll bring the puppies into the kitchen.’ Then, while she was still trying to come up with a response that was fit for the ears of a six-year-old, he turned and walked away.
But he had made a pot of tea and there was a tempting cut-and-come-again cherry cake on the table. ‘Do you like tea, Maisie? Or would you rather have milk?’
‘Tea, please. And some of Susan’s cake.’
She poured out the tea, adding plenty of milk to Maisie’s cup. Then, as she was cutting the cake, her mobile phone began to ring. It was Vickie.
She handed