“My brother sent me a listing for the house for sale on his street. It’s in Hampstead. Would you be prepared to live there?”
“In the house? I’ve not seen it. I’m sure it’s fine. Are you planning on doing renovations?”
“I meant Hampstead, but you could come to see the house with me, too. I’m trying to make an appointment for later today.” Guinevere begins to stir. “You think she smelled the milk?” I ask.
“That, or you’re preparing the milk right around the time she’s due for a feed.”
I roll my eyes, smiling. “You’re so logical, Eira.” It’s an accusation I’ve had leveled at me more times than I can count. The thing is, being a father makes me see the benefits of the illogical—staring at someone sleeping, loving someone who’s only existed a few weeks, making deals with God.
Taking Guinevere from her pram, I tuck her into my arm like I’m now used to doing when my phone rings. I can see my phone on the table. It’s the estate agent.
“You want me to take her?” Eira asks, standing, ready to take her before I’ve even said yes. That’s what Eira does—positions herself to fix a problem before it becomes a problem.
When Guinevere is safely in Eira’s arms, I swipe the phone open. I arrange to see the property in thirty minutes.
“You think she’ll be safe in the back of a cab?” I ask.
“I think plenty of people take their babies in prams in the back of a cab.”
That wasn’t the answer to the question I was asking. “We should drive and Guinevere can go in her car seat,” I say.
Eira’s grin is unmistakable.
“I’ll call the agent back.”
By the time we pull up outside Jacob’s house, it’s an hour and a half later.
“They’re tiny little things, but they really do change the way you live,” I say.
Eira nods. “It’s a huge transition having another life in your hands. But you seem to be adjusting.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.” I open the car door and stare at the house opposite Jacob’s. Unlike his, the one I’m going to view today is modern.
“You said Jacob lives on this street?” Eira asks.
I nod toward his place. “Yeah, over there. And we’re going to see this place.” I stare up at the red and cream building. “Wereally are directly opposite. I can’t exactly see in his windows, but if I got a telescope…”
“Guinevere would grow up right across from her cousins. That would be nice. Is it far for you to commute?” she asks.
So practical. My commute was the first thing I figured out when Jacob sent the link to the house.
“It’s a five-minute walk to the tube station and an eight-minute tube journey.”
“So twenty minutes if you factor in waiting times. Maybe a bit more because you have to get to UCH.”
“Right. Which is about what it takes now, except I walk the entire way.” I hadn’t quite figured out that my commute time wouldn’t change, but Eira’s beautiful brain got there almost immediately. “This would give Guinevere a garden. And like you say, we’d be closer to Jacob and Sutton.”
“It’s a garden flat?” she asks. “Nice. Shall I stay here with Guinevere?” she asks.
“Absolutely not. I need your opinion. I like the way you think. You’re logical, but you have more understanding of what children need than I do.” I set about getting Guinevere’s car seat out and ferrying her up the steps.
“Happy to help.”
I catch Eira’s eye and smile. That should be her motto. “Happy to help.” I wonder if anyone ever helps her.
The agent meets us at the door.
“I’m Muriel,” she says as we introduce ourselves. “Let’s start in the basement. We can see the pool and the screening room. There’s also a downstairs bedroom. Perfect as an in-law or nanny suite.”