Fiona Harper - Be My Baby - Her Parenthood Assignment / Three Weddings and a Baby

This was heaven. It had been so long since she’d done something just for her own pleasure. What started out as a quick sketch, rapidly grew in scale and detail. It was only when she glanced up and noticed the light was starting to fade that she checked her watch. Four o’clock. She had time to head home, drop off her bags, then run up to collect Heather from netball practice.

She took a second to consider her sketch, then flipped the pad closed, praying the traffic warden hadn’t slapped a ticket on her windscreen while she’d been sketching.

When she returned to the Old Boathouse, she was surprised to see Luke’s car parked at an angle in the lane. He wasn’t due home until at least seven o’clock. She wanted to show him what she’d been up to, so she fished the pad out of her bag as she walked up to the back door. Once in the mud room, she called out, ‘Hi there! What are you doing back so—?’

The look on Luke’s face as she entered the lounge brought her up short.

‘Where the hell have you been?’

WAS he yelling at her?

Gaby took a quick look over her shoulder, just to double-check no one had walked in behind her, but they were alone in the room.

‘Well? Where have you been?’

Her fingers twitched as she waited for her voice to work. She waved the pad a fraction of an inch. ‘I’ve been sketching…’

Her voice trailed off. He’d lost his rag with Heather over the last few weeks, but never had she seen this kind of raw fury in his eyes. A familiar feeling crept over her. She’d experienced it many times when David had lost his temper with her, but she’d never expected to get it from Luke.

‘You know Heather gets out of school at three-thirty! You’d better have a bloody good reason for leaving her standing in the playground with her teacher, while you were out messing around with crayons!’ Luke took the pad from her, gave it a cursory look and tossed it behind him on to the sofa. It bounced and skittered across the floor.

Gaby stood rooted to the spot, although inside she felt as if she was backing away. He just ploughed on.

‘The school called me at work, wanting to know why nobody was there to pick my daughter up!’

Finally her tongue unwelded itself from the top of her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness! Heather…’

She looked frantically round the room then tried to rush past him to look in the kitchen. Luke lunged forward and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. ‘Now you’re worried. Why weren’t you thinking like this an hour ago?’

‘But…but she had netball…’

‘No. She didn’t!’

‘But she always has netball on a Monday afternoon! It’s right there—’ she waved a hand towards the kitchen ‘—on the calendar!’

‘Not this week. There was a letter to say it was cancelled because Miss Blackwell is on some training course.’

Her hand flew in front of her mouth. ‘I didn’t know,’ she stammered through her fingers.

‘It’s your job to know!’ Luke ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. ‘What kind of nanny are you? Unbelievable!’ With that, he turned and marched to the bay window.

Gaby ran to the kitchen and tugged at the sheaf of papers clipped beside the calendar. A list of the term dates, a letter about the school choir and a reminder to bring household rubbish in for recycling were all she could find.

She ran back out into the lounge and stopped a few feet away from Luke. He was ignoring her, staring out across the river. The way the muscles of his back clenched told her he was better left alone.

‘Luke? Where’s Heather?’

He turned round and gave her a look that made her want to shrivel.

‘When the school phoned I gave them permission to let Jodi’s mum take her home. It was going to take me at least half an hour to get there, and Patricia Allford had offered to give her tea, so it seemed like the least painful solution for everyone.’

Gaby’s stomach quivered. ‘So…you came back here to look for me?’

Luke just blinked, long and slow. She swallowed.

‘There was me thinking you were lying unconscious on the bathroom floor or something. Stupid, huh?’

She closed her eyes. ‘Luke, I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t know how I could have—’

‘Forget it.’

The look on his face said it was anything but forgotten.

‘Let me go and pick her up. I can apologise to Mrs Allford in person then.’

Luke marched out into the hall and she heard the rattling of keys. ‘I’ll go.’ The door slammed and she flinched.

This was awful! How could she? She’d been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t spared a thought for Heather. She crossed the room to where her discarded sketch book lay, and stared at it.

Luke was right. She was useless. Sure, he hadn’t said as much, but she could see it in his face. That same look that David had always had when he was about to go on one of his rants. Only this time it wasn’t over something as trivial as a suit left at the dry cleaners. This time she’d really screwed up.

She picked up the pad and flipped the cover to look at the drawing. Suddenly it appeared awkward and childish. She ripped the page out and threw it on the cold but waiting fire. Kindling was all it was good for. Then she fetched the matches. Two minutes later, her afternoon of joy was a plume of smoke snaking its way out of the chimney.

Luke made himself ease off the accelerator. Driving at this speed in winding country lanes was not a good idea. But if he allowed the adrenaline surge to subside, he was going to have to face thoughts he was trying to avoid. Like the fact that Gaby had made a simple mistake. It could easily have been him in her position. He only half-remembered the letter in question himself, and probably would have forgotten all about it if the school hadn’t phoned.

He also didn’t want to face the fact that anger had been bubbling under the surface since the beach trip. Unreasonable anger. Jealousy, if he put the proper label on it. Stuipid, childish jealousy he could do nothing to quench.

He tapped the lever for the windscreen wipers. The good weather had held on long enough and now the rain was falling thick and fast. It was too early to go and get Heather. Patricia Allford had said to pick her up at six, and it was only just five o’clock.

He drove into the village and parked his car along the front. A walk on the beach might clear his head. It would serve him right if he got drenched. Part of him welcomed the punishment.

He ran to the boot of his car, got his waterproof out of the back, and set off down the shingle beach, enjoying the cold wind on his face. Before long his hands grew icy and he stuffed them in his pockets. He hadn’t worn the coat for a couple of weeks and was surprised to find the spare keys for the back door in the right hand pocket, along with a scrumpled piece of paper.

He spent five minutes or so feeling the pattern of the wrinkles as he walked. Finally, he grew curious and pulled it out to investigate. As soon as he saw the school’s logo on the top of the page, he knew he was in trouble. He didn’t even need to read the letter to know what it was.

He folded the paper up precisely and put it back in his pocket. He’d picked Heather up from school the Wednesday before last. It had been raining then too. She’d run out through the school gates and waved a letter under his nose.

Oh, hell!

He was feeling bad enough about letting rip at Gaby as it was, and now it turned out the whole episode was his fault alone. No wonder she hadn’t remembered the letter! It had been sitting in his pocket the whole time, stuffed inside after he’d given it a quick once-over.