Kids Included

Beside her Molly could feel Jack thinking—could almost hear the cogs turn. Maybe he didn’t know where to start. Maybe he needed help.

‘Tell me about Jan,’ she prompted gently.

Jack’s sigh was soft and full of regret. ‘Jan? She was stocky and feisty and loud, and Nick adored her. It was mutual—she thought the sun rose and set on him. They fell in love at sixteen, married at twenty, had Seb at twenty-three. His parents hated her—she was a little off the wall for their taste, and they never really trusted her. When Jan found out she was dying, they said they’d have the children. She couldn’t bear the idea, but she had no choice. Her own parents were dead; she couldn’t see another way.’

‘Until you suggested one.’

He looked down at his hands. ‘Nick had asked me, years ago, if I’d have their kids if anything happened to them. I was married then, they’d only had only Seb and Amy, and I said yes. Nick had it put in his will, but Jan thought everything had changed so much I wouldn’t have them—not all four. As I saw it, they needed me even more. I suggested we got married, and I adopted the children. It was what Nick would have wanted, and it gave Jan the security she needed to die in peace.’

‘And the children?’

‘Amy and Tom were OK, and Nicky was too tiny to know what was going on.’

‘And Seb?’

He sighed. ‘Seb thought it was awful. He couldn’t understand why they couldn’t go to his grandparents and he could look after them all there. He was twelve, too young to cope, too old to be told what to do without questioning it. And he didn’t like the thought of me touching his mother.’

‘And did you?’

He shot her a searching look. ‘Hardly. She was my best friend’s wife, a real one-man woman. She was dying of cancer. Of course I didn’t touch her. I didn’t want to. That wasn’t what it was about.’

Molly felt relief for a moment, but there was another question she and her foolish mouth just had to ask. ‘Did you love her?’

‘Yes. As a friend, as a wonderful mother to my godson, as an incredible and beautiful human being—yes, I loved her. As a woman—no. Not in that way. I never once looked at her and envied Nick anything but his relationship with her. That I would have given my eye teeth for, but Jan herself? No. She wasn’t my type. Does that answer your question?’

Her smile was wry. ‘I think so. And Nick’s parents—did they take it lying down?’

Jack laughed humourlessly. ‘You are joking. They went up the wall. They wanted the children, said they could cope. Now, they won’t even have them all at once for the weekend because they’re too much!’

‘And are they too much for you?’ she probed softly.

He chuckled and threw a little stone into the lake, watching the ripples spread. ‘Only most of the time. Sometimes—usually when they’re asleep—I can almost cope.’

She could hear the love and despair in his voice, and wanted to hug him. Instead she slid her hand over the mossy turf and threaded her fingers through his, squeezing silently.

‘I think you’re amazing taking them on,’ she said quietly. ‘Most men would have handed them over to their grandparents with a heartfelt sigh and legged it.’

‘Nick would have had mine,’ he said, and something in his voice said it all.

She wanted to cry for him. ‘He must have been a good friend.’

‘He was the best.’

His voice sounded raw and hurt, and his fingers tightened on hers. She returned the pressure, offering wordless comfort, and after a moment the pressure eased and he sighed. ‘It’s crazy, I still miss him.’

‘I’m sure you do.’ Her mind rambled on, dealing with the nitty-gritty, imagining life in his household—imagining a week-day morning in term-time, with everybody’s homework lost on the kitchen table, three lunches to get, Nicky to wash and dress, buses to catch—hideous. ‘It’s a good job you were already writing,’ she added. ‘You couldn’t have looked after the children if you’d been at work.’

‘I was at work. I gave up. Luckily my writing was just taking off and I was able to pull out of the force and just about manage to live on my earnings.’

She shifted a little, turning towards him. ‘But the children must be provided for—you don’t have to pay everything for them, do you?’

He shook his head. ‘No. There is a fund I can call on, but I’m trying not to. They’ll need it when they’re older. It’s their inheritance.’

He slipped his fingers out of hers and stood up, holding his hand out again to draw her to her feet. ‘Walk?’ he suggested, and she cast an anxious glance back at her cabin, where her children were sleeping.

The sun had set now, and the village was settling into darkness. She didn’t like leaving them, but she sensed Jack needed this time out from his brood. She nodded. ‘All right—but just a little way—not out of sight.’

‘OK.’

They strolled along the water’s edge, not talking, not quite touching, sharing a companionable silence. Every now and then one of them scuffed a little stone, and it would roll into the water and send a ripple out across the surface.

‘It’s so peaceful,’ Jack murmured.

‘Mmm.’ She looked across the lake to the village centre, a hub of activity even this late at night, and at the edge, beside the water, she could see a restaurant. Lights from it twinkled in the lake, and she could see the faint flickering glow of candles on the tables.

‘It looks very romantic,’ she said, and could have kicked herself for the wistful tone in her voice.

She needn’t have worried. Jack was looking at it just as wistfully. ‘It would be nice to have a meal there without the kids,’ he murmured. ‘How about it? Shall we share a babysitter, order the kids pizza and go and paint the town red?’

The thought was wonderful. ‘Sounds good,’ she replied, gazing across the water. ‘Do you suppose they do babysitters?’

‘I think so. We can ask tomorrow. What’s on your agenda?’

She laughed. ‘I have no idea. Babysitting Nicky while you’re doing man stuff with Seb, otherwise I don’t know. The kids are sailing again, I think, and I might have a totally lazy day or maybe go swimming.’

‘Sounds good. The paintball game is first thing—if you’re sure about Nicky?’

‘If she’ll come to me.’

‘She will. She’s used to it, bless her—and then, if we can, we’ll go out tomorrow night and try and remember how we misspent our youth!’

Molly laughed. ‘Speak for yourself. My youth was exemplary.’

‘High time you started living a little, then,’ he murmured, and his voice slithered down her spine like melted chocolate, leaving a shiver in its wake.

And Molly suddenly had the feeling that a quiet dinner a` deux in the candlelit restaurant by the lake might be a very foolish move indeed…

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