Page 11 of The Baby Plan

“Tea would be great, thanks.”

“How do you take it?”

“Milk, no sugar please,” she replied. “Can I do anything?” Mutt was now sniffing around her again and she eyed him suspiciously. She wanted nothing more than to be out of this very uncomfortable situation. Her cheeks felt flushed, she was sweating, and terribly self-conscious.

“Why don’t you take Alana back outside and I’ll bring the teas in a minute?” suggested Samson.

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of removing herself from this enclosed space. Samson’s muscular chest had a drop of water slowly working its way down it. She retrieved Alana as quickly as she could and carried her outside, relishing the cooling fresh air on her face. She closed the door firmly on Mutt — if Samson wanted his huge dog to join them that was his choice, but she certainly wasn’t going to be left in charge of him.

Thankfully when Samson emerged from the campervan a few minutes later, he had donned a shirt, though not one which covered his thick, rippling upper arms, Sophie couldn’t help observing. Mutt dutifully joined his master.

“Here you go,” Samson said, giving Sophie a large, steaming mug. “Would you like me to hold her for you?”

“Sure.” Sophie handed Alana back over. So far the whole encounter had felt like a bizarre, and rather uncomfortable, game of pass the baby parcel.

“Grab a perch,” Samson suggested, indicating the step leading up to the campervan’s door before sitting down there himself.

“I’m fine standing,” said Sophie, not wanting to be stuck sitting in such close proximity to him now she’d managed to make her escape from the cramped confines of the van.

She ventured a sip from her tea and grimaced as it burnt her tongue.

“Bit hot?” commented Samson, who’d placed his drink by his feet so he’d have both hands free to hold Alana who was investigating his hair, much to his obvious delight. He was clearly completely charmed by his daughter.

Sophie nodded. She just wanted to down her damn drink and have this stupid ‘playdate’ over with so she could leave and get on with her day. How long did they need to stay? Would an hour be enough?

That thought brought back the realisation that she had her meeting to go to and her stomach gave a flip. Her career had been her life for so long, she wasn’t used to not being able to give one hundred per cent to it, and she didn’t think her boss would react well to her asking if she could be home-based, especially as she’d already been away from the office for almost two weeks.

There followed a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Sophie glanced around at the beach and the sky, anywhere but at Samson. Eventually, Samson asked, “So where is it you need to get off to today?”

“I’ve got a meeting at my offices in London. I had the last couple of weeks off to deal with everything, but need to speak to them about going back.”

“So, you live in London?”

“Yes, I’ve got a place in South Norwood. I was only staying in Natasha’s flat while I sorted out the funeral and all her stuff.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m an accountant. I work for a large firm in the centre of London.”

“Sounds like long hours,” commented Samson.

“They can be,” Sophie answered cautiously.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how are you going to manage that? You’re young, live by yourself, have no experience of children and no support network as far as I can tell. How do you think you’re going to look after Alana on your own and work?” Samson asked.

“There are plenty of single mothers who cope perfectly well,” replied Sophie quickly.

“Of course there are, but it’s not an easy route to go down, and many have help from family. What exactly do you know about caring for a baby?”

“At least as much as you, I imagine,” Sophie retorted.

“So, you’ve made plans?”

“Nothing concrete,” she admitted. “I guess I’ll use daycare or something.”

“Won’t that take a while to sort out?”

“I don’t know . . . maybe,” she said lamely.

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