Page 10 of The Baby Plan

“What about tomorrow?” Samson pushed.

“Sure,” Sophie agreed, mainly so she could remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible and have some time to work out exactly how she wanted to play things to protect herself and Alana. Then she remembered she had plans. “But it’ll need to be early. I need to leave by eleven for a meeting in London.”

“That’s not a problem. Eight on the beach?”

“OK.”

“Come by my campervan. It’ll be parked in the Madeira Drive car park, not far from the pier, as close to the beach as I can get it. It’s blue. You really can’t miss it.”

“I’ll see you there,” said Sophie, gratefully turning to go and thinking how right her first impressions of Samson had been. He must be in his early thirties at least, and living in a campervan on the beach! Not exactly a stable father figure for her niece, but absolutely typical of the sort of man her sister would go for, and, from Sophie’s past experience of Natasha’s boyfriends, would be completely unreliable and untrustworthy. She’d never been able to understand what her sister saw in them. Sure, they were all ridiculously handsome, and Natasha had been drawn to someone wild and unpredictable like herself, but more than that, they were all self-destructive. Did she want to redeem them? And validate herself? Or was it something similarly self-destructive? Did she feel worthless and sought to punish herself? Who knew? Certainly not Natasha, Sophie had always thought.

Sophie resented having to deal with such characters. She had enough going on in her life at the moment without adding a surfer bum into it. But he was Alana’s father, and she couldn’t keep the two of them apart, even if she believed it was in her niece’s best interests.

Chapter 4

The next morning was the first time Sophie had had to get herself and Alana ready to go out early, and it was certainly a learning experience. It seemed the more she tried to hurry her niece, the more determined the little girl became to take her sweet time. How slowly was it possible to drink a bottle of milk? Each leaden minute crawled by.

Somehow Sophie had Alana ready to leave only fifteen minutes after she’d planned to, but catching sight of herself in the hallway mirror as she carried the baby out to the car, made her gasp. She was a total state. She’d managed a super-fast shower but hadn’t had time to put any make-up on, let alone properly brush her hair. She’d dragged on some clothes she’d found on the floor by the side of the bed.

She had to sort herself out before she left, there was no way she could turn up to see Samson like that; he’d think she wasn’t fit to look after herself, let alone Alana. And as slowly as things were moving today, she might not have time to pop back and freshen up as planned before heading off to London. She turned around and marched back to her bedroom determinedly. She popped her niece on the floor with some toys, and much to Alana’s amusement, gave her hair a quick blast with the hairdryer. Sophie smoothed out her skin with some tinted moisturiser and put on some of her old ‘work’ clothes that she’d picked up from her own flat when she’d done a quick trip there to grab essentials, including her outfit for the funeral. Looking smart and professional would mean she would be taken seriously and her suggestions considered fairly. And, as handsome as he was unsuitable, she needed to concentrate on the fact that the meeting she was having at her offices today was actually the big event, not dropping by to see Samson at his campervan. She could hardly attend a business meeting in jeans and a T-shirt with apple puree down it.

Alana acquiesced, with only minimal squeaking, to being put in the super-duper top of the range car seat Sophie had bought and had fitted for her, and they got on their way, with Sophie doing her very best to smooth her justifiably frazzled nerves.

Thankfully they found a parking space immediately, and Samson’s van was easy to spot across the car park. It wasn’t worth getting the buggy out, and it would be useless if they moved on to the stony beach, so Sophie left it in the boot and, picking her niece up, marched as quickly as she could in her work heels towards the blue campervan, cursing how warm the day already was. She would swear she could feel the small amount of make-up she’d put on sliding down her face.

They reached the campervan and, a now rather sweaty Sophie, knocked on the door and waited. There was no reply. She knocked again. Once more, there was no reply. Furious at her time being wasted, and at herself for how disappointed she was, Sophie turned and was stomping off back to her car, when she heard her name called. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Samson jogging up the beach.

He wore a wetsuit rolled down to his waist, his chest bare and dripping wet. He dried his blond hair with a towel as he came towards them. Trotting alongside him was some sort of giant Irish wolfhound. It was possibly the biggest dog Sophie had ever seen. Its legs seemed to go in all directions at once as it picked up its pace and began to hurtle towards her, its grey fur pulled backwards by his speed. It bounded ahead of Samson and shook itself all over Sophie, who had turned away to protect Alana from the dog and was clutching the baby tightly to her. The animal gave a deep woof, making Sophie jump. Alana squealed with delight and tried to get out of her aunt’s arms to investigate.

“Hey,” said Samson cheerfully, smiling at his daughter, and ignoring the dog, still sniffing around Sophie.

“Could you get that animal away from us?” asked Sophie, crossly. “He’s soaked me and is scaring Alana!”

Samson lifted an eyebrow and seemed to be hiding a smile, but grabbed hold of the dog’s collar without arguing. “Come on Mutt,” he said affectionately and opened the door of the campervan. “Get in there for a bit.”

The dog gave Sophie a dejected look, clearly blaming her for his dismissal. With a sigh, he lumbered into the van, and Samson closed the door.

“Thank you,” said Sophie stiffly.

“No problem. I’m sorry he shook on you and upset Alana.”

Sophie focused awkwardly on brushing down her clothes.

“I’ll dry soon and Alana’s fine,” she conceded. “I’ve always been nervous around dogs.”

“You don’t need to worry about Mutt, he’s a gentle giant. I found him abandoned on the beach when he was a puppy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“He’s very big,” Sophie said, “And Alana’s so small.”

“Trust me,” Samson said gently. “Come inside and we can introduce them properly while I make a cup of tea. Can I give Alana a cuddle?”

Sophie handed the baby over to her father’s outstretched arms.

As Samson then proceeded to carry Alana into his campervan, Sophie didn’t have much choice but to follow.

The inside of the van was much tidier than Sophie had expected. There didn’t seem to be very much in there, the only real ‘stuff’ was a shelf packed full of rather dog-eared books. Samson hung up his towel on a hook behind the door, and while Mutt greeted him enthusiastically, like they’d been apart for years, Sophie tried awkwardly to move out of the way in the tiny space so as not to be anywhere near his naked chest.

“Would you like tea or coffee?” asked Samson as he carefully balanced Alana on his hip. She could tell he was being extremely cautious as he poured water from a bottle into a camping kettle which he then placed on the little hob on the top of his kitchen counter. Despite his height, he only had to stoop ever so slightly. She didn’t know what to do with herself: most of the space inside the van was taken up by people and dog, and the only place to sit was on the bed, which seemed far too intimate.

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