Be My Baby: Her Parenthood Assignment / Three Weddings and a Baby

‘Why don’t you want to go?’

Heather shrugged.

‘Well, whose party is it, then?’

There was a long pause. ‘Liam’s.’

‘What? Liam who you go all soppy about when you think no one’s watching?’

Heather looked ready to bolt.

‘Steady on, sweetheart! You’re almost twelve. It’s normal to start noticing boys at your age.’

‘Really?’ Heather looked so relieved that it almost made Gaby laugh, but she kept her smile under wraps.

Heather really needed a mother to confide in. Luke was no help. He’d probably flip his lid if Heather ever mentioned boys, or sex, or any of the things adolescent girls were curious about.

‘Yes. But only from a distance, you understand. Now, what have you got to wear?’

Heather pulled a rather grotesque face. Now we’re getting somewhere, thought Gaby. She put her brushes down and took her charge by the hand.

‘Let’s check out your wardrobe.’

She dragged Heather into her bedroom and flung the doors of the wardrobe wide.

‘Let’s see.’

She pulled out a dress and held it up. Heather looked as if she were about to cry.

‘Granny bought me that. And the rest of my dresses.’

Gaby took another look at it. Crumbs! No wonder Heather looked so despondent. It was a beautiful dress for a seven-year-old, all frills at the hem and a big bow at the back, but Heather would be the laughing stock of the party if she turned up in something like that.

‘What about your dad? Surely he’s bought you some clothes while you’ve been living with him?’

Heather walked over to a chest of drawers, pulled out a collection of too-large fleeces, some jeans and a sturdy pair of boots.

Gaby nodded sagely. ‘I see. Well, there’s nothing for it, then.’

‘I won’t go to the party?’ Heather said hopefully.

‘No, better than that. It’s an absolute necessity we have a girly shopping trip.’

Heather’s smile was so wide Gaby reckoned she could have swallowed the coat hanger she was holding.

‘I’ll ask your dad if we can go on Saturday. Then you’ll be all kitted out for the party that evening.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure. I’ll ask him when he gets in from work later. Now, it’s about time you got on with some of your homework.’

Heather practically skipped off to her desk and Gaby left quietly, closing the door behind her. She sighed and set off downstairs to see if the chicken she’d planned for Sunday dinner was properly defrosted.

Of course, rescuing Heather from a serious wardrobe malfunction was all fine and dandy, but it meant she was going to have to have a proper conversation with Luke. For almost a week now she’d managed to avoid any real social contact by being bright and breezy and incredibly busy.

Luke wasn’t due home until ten o’clock this evening. That would mean she’d have to talk to him alone. At night.

She prodded the now-defrosted chicken. ‘So, it looks like we’re both in trouble, kid.’

When Luke came through the door later that evening she had a plate of cold roast chicken, potatoes and salad waiting for him.

‘Hungry?’

‘Starving. Thanks, Gaby.’

She watched him while he set about clearing his plate. After almost a month of hearty home cooking, his appetite showed no sign of slowing and she hoped it never would. But of course, sooner or later, she would have to leave, and then who knew what the pair of them would be eating? She couldn’t stand the thought of them reverting to cardboard pizzas.

When it became too uncomfortable to sit there doing nothing, she fetched a basket of laundry and piled it into the washing machine.

‘Gaby, you’re not a servant, you know. I don’t expect you to do the washing and pick up my dirty socks.’

‘I don’t mind, honestly.’ She grinned. ‘And I promise you this, I wouldn’t go within three feet of your socks.’

He smiled back and stabbed a new potato. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to get into my good books. Is there something awful you’ve done that you haven’t told me about?’

Gaby swallowed. ‘I’d like to take Heather clothes shopping at the weekend, if that’s all right by you. She could do with a few new things.’

He looked up, puzzled. ‘Heather has plenty of clothes.’

‘Well, yes. But it’s that party she’s been invited to on Saturday. She doesn’t want to go because she hasn’t got anything fashionable to wear.’

‘Fashionable,’ he echoed.

‘Yes. You want her to mix a bit more with the other kids, don’t you? I thought I would take her in to Torquay and we could buy an outfit, maybe even get her hair trimmed.’

‘And being fashionable is important to eleven-year-old girls, is it?’

‘Well, the fact she’s bothered about the party means she actually wants to try and fit in, be part of the crowd. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’

‘As long as you don’t let Heather go out looking like one of the Spice Girls, I’m okay with it.’

‘The Spice Girls split up years ago.’

‘Of course they did.’

Oh, well done, Gaby! Remind him he’s lost a whole chunk of his life, why don’t you?

He looked down at his plate and cut the next bit of chicken. ‘I’ll give you some money on Friday to cover it.’

‘Great.’

Now the washing was in, she turned her attention to the dry dishes left over from lunch. Cupboards crashed and tins rattled.

‘Gaby?’

She started sorting cutlery into its drawer. ‘Yes?’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘It’s just that I get the distinct impression that something is going on I don’t know about. And you seem to be avoiding me.’

Her poor little heart juddered with fright. Spoon in this space. Knife in that one—crash, clatter.

‘Of course I’m not avoiding you.’ Only she was. She risked a glance at him. His face was serious and his eyebrows puckered.

‘And you’re sure there’s nothing wrong?’

‘Absolutely.’ She performed her best breezy smile. ‘Everything’s fine.’

Luke could hear the giggling all the way from his study. Gaby and Heather had obviously returned from their all-day shopping trip. Why it took so long to trim a fringe and get a pretty party dress was a mystery. But it sounded like they’d had fun.

Without him, of course.

What he wouldn’t give to hear Heather laugh like that when she was with him. He put the medical journal he’d been reading down. At least her laser vision had gone into hibernation. He should just be grateful for every little bit of progress.

He took his reading glasses off and folded the magazine closed. If there was one thing he knew about female shopping trips, it was that the male of the species was required to grunt his approval at the spoils. It was as if the whole hunter-gatherer thing had been reversed.

Extra Brownie points would be earned if he appeared to inspect each and every purchase without them having to come and drag him out of his study. He’d learned this much from Lucy. From the day they’d been married, she’d managed to spend money faster than he could earn it. He’d come to realise that it hadn’t been about the things she’d bought, it had been about the buzz.

Lucy had lived for excitement. She’d been dazzling when he’d first met her. Beautiful, vivacious and always on the verge of some new adventure. He’d been amazed she’d looked twice at him. Later, when their relationship got serious, he’d assumed that her reckless, thrill-seeking personality and his more cautious nature had been the perfect complement. He’d been devastated that night at the hotel when he’d seen her check in with her boss, Alex. Obviously he hadn’t been able to offer his wife enough of the thrills she sought, after all.

He stood up, sending the office chair skidding backwards, and marched out of the room. How was it that he could still feel the sting of her betrayal when he’d forgotten how to feel the everyday stuff—like how to be a normal, rational human being?

Perhaps seeing Heather in her party dress would cheer him up.

His study was tucked away round the back of the house, down a little passageway that ran past the mud room. As he approached the hall, he could hear scuffling and squealing. Gaby entered through the doorway that led to the entrance hall and stood with her back to it.

‘Could you hold on a second?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Could you just wait here for a minute or two?’

He made a move for the door handle, but she blocked him.

‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Heather would like you to see the whole effect in one go, so we just need to give her a chance to go upstairs and get changed.’ Heather’s distinctive thump could be heard on the stairs.

‘I’m upstairs now! You can let him out,’ she yelled.

Gaby moved away from the door knob to allow him to pass. Unfortunately, the passage had been built in an earlier time, when the residents’ space requirements were obviously meagre, and she came close enough for him to smell the perfume she must have splashed on in the department store.

The daft thing was, it made him angry. She didn’t smell like Gaby any more—of soap and fresh air. She smelled like Lucy used to, drenched in expensive scent. In the days between her death and his arrest, Luke had opened all the windows in their London home. Lucy’s perfume had only reminded him of how she had dabbed it on that last night she’d gone out to meet him, telling her husband she was off for a night out with the girls.

It had been her best perfume. The one she saved for really special occasions. The fact she’d chosen to wear that one had solidified the half-doubts and questions he’d been having for some time. It was that scent that had caused him to jump in his car and follow her.

Gaby was looking at him. He ripped the door open, walked through it and kept going across the hallway and into the lounge.

He didn’t want to analyse why making comparisons between Lucy and Gaby should bother him. He just knew he wanted Gaby to be different. He didn’t want to find out that the warm, caring, serene person was a front for something else.

He was so lost in stewing over the past, he almost didn’t notice Gaby enter the room a few minutes later. He looked up and knew from her reaction that he wasn’t wearing his happy face. Too bad. It was the best he could do now the dark memories had started circling round him.

‘Presenting Miss Heather Armstrong,’ Gaby announced, with a flourish of her hand.

Luke was definitely not ready for what he saw next. It could have been someone else’s daughter standing in the doorway, a hopeful expression in her large eyes. Gone was his little girl, and in her place was a stranger, her hair cut in some kind of layered style that ended around her shoulders. A stranger who no longer wore a familiar scowl, but sparkled and shone.

There was no sign of the baby pink dress he’d expected. Instead he could see hot pink jeans and a glittery silver top. True, it had sleeves, not straps, and it didn’t reveal any flesh, but it was far too grown up for his little Heather.

He stood up. ‘My God, what on earth are you wearing?’

Heather’s face fell. ‘Don’t you like it? Gaby helped me pick it out.’

He shot an accusing look at her partner in crime, but Gaby didn’t look one bit repentant. Instead, she looked as if she were about to rip his head off.

‘She looks lovely. Doesn’t she, Luke?’

He opened his mouth to reply, but a flash of something sparkly in Heather’s ear caught his eye. He marched towards his daughter and lifted her hair away from the side of her head.

‘Pierced ears! At your age? Take them out right now!’

Heather’s hands flew over her ears. Now she wore a more familiar expression. The one with seven kinds of hatred for him in her eyes. So why didn’t that make things better?

‘You always spoil everything!’ she screamed, then she spun around and raced out of the room and up the stairs.

He turned his attention to Gaby, whose face was a shade of pink he’d never seen before.

‘How dare you? How dare you do that to my little girl?’

Gaby’s jaw clenched.

‘I’m waiting. What on earth were you thinking?’

She looked at the floor. He had a feeling she was about to unleash the torrent she’d been holding back since he’d first opened his mouth. But when she looked up at him again, she merely said, ‘You’re right to be angry. I was wrong to let Heather get her ears pierced without your permission. I’m really sorry. We just got carried away…’

That was it? How about telling him to get a grip, that it wasn’t as if she were wearing a three-inch mini-skirt and a crop top? Or that ninety per cent of the girls in Heather’s class had their ears pierced. She was just going to suck up all that righteous anger and buckle under?

It was then that he realised he wanted her to fight with him. He was sick of seeing her sweep all her negative emotions under the carpet and pretend they didn’t exist. The childish urge to push the issue was so strong it was practically irresistible. He wanted to see the ever-calm Gaby lose her cool. And, underneath the layers of bluff, he thought maybe she wanted it too.

‘You’re such a coward, Gaby!’

‘I’m what?’

Her chin trembled, but not with the threat of tears. It was the effort of holding back her anger. The knowledge only spurred him on further.

‘You heard. You think I’m being unreasonable and you’re too gutless to say it.’

She’d be right, of course, if she did tell him he was being unfair. Maybe that was why he wanted to hear it from her. Perhaps it would help stop the rollercoaster his emotions were riding on at the moment. Heaven knew he was powerless to do it himself.

But that wasn’t it, and he knew it. He wanted to see her skin flush and her eyes flash, just as they were doing now.

‘Too gutless?’

‘That’s right. You’re too scared to tell people what you really think, in case they don’t like you any more. Well, get over it!’ He knew he was pushing her too far, but he couldn’t stop himself.

‘You want to know what I really think?’

‘Yes, I do.’

She faltered when he said that, as if she hadn’t actually expected anyone to be interested in what she had to say. But he could see she was revving up to it, and the adrenaline surge that hit him made him feel triumphant at the prospect.

‘Okay, okay. Just give me a second.’ She was all jittery, hardly able to keep still. She plunged her hands into her jeans pockets, pulled them out again and smoothed down her hair. He almost laughed at the gesture. Even when she was about to yell, she couldn’t help making some part of herself more presentable.

‘I think…I think you’re too hard on Heather!’ The words fell out in a jumble. He wasn’t sure whether he thought she looked surprised or relieved she’d got the sentence out.

‘Too hard?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

She shoved her hands back in her pockets.

‘Come on, Gaby, don’t lose it now! Don’t water it down and make it nice. Just let the words come out the way they want to.’

He saw fire glint in her eyes and his stomach rolled. He’d better be ready for what he was prodding her into unleashing.

‘You are a control freak, Luke Armstrong! If you can’t get your own way, you have a tantrum. And you wonder where Heather gets it from!’ She wasn’t shouting, or at least not speaking at shouting volume, but her words carried the same vehemence as if she were shrieking at the top of her lungs.

‘I think you bully her. I think you push and push to make her match the idea of the perfect daughter you have in your head. But it’s stifling her, Luke! Suffocating her. One day you’ll open your eyes and realise you’ve snuffed out the wonderful spark inside her, and she’ll never forgive you for it. You’ll never forgive yourself, either. So if you want that for her, just keep going the way you are, but don’t expect me to hang around and watch you do it!’

All the time she’d been speaking her eyes hadn’t left him. She’d fixed him with an intense, burning stare and he was unable to look away. She broke eye contact and looked at the ceiling.

‘You need to give her space to be herself, Luke. To love her, you need to let her be free.’

Her eyes returned to him as she spoke the last phrase. She wasn’t quite so heated now and her breathing was fast and shallow. Somewhere along the line they’d stopped talking about just Heather.

Adrenaline from the row was still crashing through his system. In the silence, he could hear it inside his head, throbbing in his ears. And all he could see were those chestnut eyes, waiting for him to respond. But, instead of being shuttered, they glowed with a defiant light.

She looked incredible. Lit up from the inside. In fact, she looked so alive that the only possible response was to close the distance between them, cup her face in his hands and kiss her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HIS lips met hers and she reeled with shock. One moment she’d been ready to punch his lights out, now her hands were moving from where they’d been dangling at her sides to smooth over the muscles of his shoulders. She shouldn’t be hanging on to him like this! She ought to be slapping his face.

And she probably would have done, if the kiss had been different. In the split second before he’d kissed her, she’d thought it was going to be as forceful as his journey across the room, but she was wrong.

His lips were soft and tender and working a crazy kind of magic inside her. His hands moved from her face to cradle the back of her neck and run through her hair. Any self-respecting female would melt at this point—and she didn’t think she was far from it. There was already a worrying tingling in the tips of her toes.

She didn’t have any choice in the matter. She had to kiss him back. And as she did, everything seemed to spiral in slow motion. She clasped her fingers behind his neck and relaxed into the kiss.

Oh, wow!

The pins and needles that had started in her toes, now prickled behind her knees. You couldn’t lose consciousness from a kiss, could you? Luke’s mouth moved from her mouth to her neck and she decided it was entirely possible.

They were perfectly in tune with each other and, for once in her life, everything seemed to be a perfect fit. Being here in Luke’s arms felt so natural, so right. She forgot all the reasons why this was sheer madness and lost herself in the moment.

The sound of a door banging upstairs made them spring apart like a pair of guilty fourteen-year-olds caught behind the bike sheds. They stared at each other, eyes like saucers. If it were any consolation, he looked twice as shocked as she felt.

‘Heather,’ she managed to croak.

His tore his eyes from her and focused on the door. ‘Yes. Heather. Right. I’d better go and—’

‘Yes, you’d better.’

And then he was gone. Gaby slumped into the nearest chair and put trembling fingers to her lips. They pulsed as if he were still kissing her.

Luke paused on the landing to muster his scattered emotions. Had he lost his mind? A quick look at the haggard face in the mirror at the top of the stairs told him he wasn’t far off.

He’d kissed Gaby. The nanny!

Except she was more than that. Only he didn’t know what. He only knew she got inside his skin and he didn’t know why. But he didn’t have time to ponder that right now; he had a daughter to sort out. Her sobs were audible though her closed bedroom door.

What had he done?

He knocked lightly on the door. ‘Heather?’ Some unintelligible wailing was his reply. He pushed the door open gently and stepped inside. She was curled up on the bed, her back to him, hugging her cuddly rabbit.

‘Heather, sweetheart? I’m so sorry.’

She lifted her head to look at him with surprise. And no wonder. Usually, after he’d yelled at her for no good reason, he just brushed it away and never talked about it again. All this time he’d never once apologised. Somehow it had seemed like it was admitting failure and weakness, and that wasn’t what she needed from him. How could he have got it so wrong?

‘I really am sorry, darling. Will you forgive me?’

Now she sat up and looked at him. ‘Me? Forgive you?’

‘Yes. Dads make mistakes sometimes too, you know. And I think I’ve been making far too many since we’ve been living together again.’

Heather sniffed and he offered her a tissue from the box on the dressing table.

‘I wish I could start it all again, go back a few months and be a different kind of dad. A better one, anyway. I know it’s difficult to understand, but being away…in prison…made it hard for me to be anything but angry—at everyone and everything, not just you. And I wish I hadn’t, Heather.’ His voice began to wobble. ‘I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.’

Heather reached out and touched the place where a tear was trailing down his left cheek. She followed it with her finger, clearly astonished at the sight of it. And then her face crumpled and her own tears came hot and fast. He pulled her into his arms and she clung on to him. They stayed there, rocking almost imperceptibly, for what seemed an age.

When finally it didn’t seem like an impossible task to loosen his arms, he pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. She was still confused, but the rage was no longer there.

‘I meant it, sweetheart. I want to try and do things differently from now on. I can’t promise I’m going to get it right all the time, but I’m going to try my hardest. You’re all I’ve got and I don’t want to lose you.’

She nodded, then smiled a little. And he knew she’d forgiven him. Just like that. All he’d needed to do was open up to her a little, show her it was hard for him too, and then they could weather the storms together.

‘Stand up and show me your outfit again.’

Heather shook her head and curled forwards slightly.

‘I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. I was just surprised at how grown-up you looked. Scared I was going to lose my little girl before I got to know her again, I suppose.’

Heather didn’t stand up, but she stretched out a little so he could see her top.

‘It’s very pretty,’ he said. ‘And you look beautiful in it. A lot like your mum, in fact.’ That had to have been the first time he’d talked about her mother with her since his release.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. You’re going to be the belle of the ball.’

She blushed and looked away. ‘It’s only a stupid party, Dad.’

He smiled and stroked her hair. ‘Well, you’ll be the belle of the stupid party, then.’

She giggled and smiled back at him, her eyes still wet and pink.

How had a little honesty been so hard? Why hadn’t he just said all of this months ago? He didn’t know, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Gaby had something to do with unlocking the things trapped inside him.

Gaby.

What the hell was he going to do about Gaby?

More to the point, what the hell was he going to do about the fact that, not only had he just had the most mind-blowing kiss of his life with her, but that he was dangerously close to running downstairs and doing it again?

He ran his hands through his hair and looked at his watch. He had to take Heather to the party in half an hour. Perhaps when he got back they could talk, although he had no idea what he was going to say.

I think I like you? I want to get to know you better?

It all sounded pretty pathetic.