Page 27 of Dear Daisy

I nodded and she belted off down the corridor. The door to her room slammed in a much more definite way than it had the other night.

‘Oh, h-hello.’

I jumped. ‘What the hell is it with your family appearing unexpectedly? Have you got vampires in your genes or something?’

Alex smiled. ‘Yes. Th-they call us the Silent H-Hills. It’s a j-joke. Name of a c-computer game.’

‘It’s not a joke if you have to explain it, you know.’ But this was banter. It felt normal. It felt good. ‘I just put fish fingers in the oven and Scarlet is changing. I’ll be off now.’

Alex came further into the room. The baggy-necked red T-shirt was back in evidence again, smeared with what I hoped was wood stain, which also adorned his bare arms like a tribal tattoo, if the tribe in question was massively tree-based. ‘Oh, no, s-stay, please.’

Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly, I have to hurry back to the House of Tiny and imagine that my ex-boyfriend is stalking me. ‘Okay.’

Scarlet hurtled back into the room, carrying Light Bulb by the neck. ‘Hi, Alex. Winter brought me home because Granny was being boring. I’m going to do some jumping now until my fish fingers are done,’ and then she was gone, rattling down the stairs with the hobby horse hitting the wooden rails all the way down.

We waited until the echoes died away. ‘Why not have that talk now?’ I suggested. ‘It will save me coming over tomorrow.’

Alex made a down-turned mouth. ‘Th-that was going to be th-the high p-point of my day,’ he said. ‘I’d p-primed the coffee machine to ex-expect you.’

‘I’m not ruling it out, just saying that now would be good, if you want to offload and avoid a sleepless night.’ I sat down on the sofa and tucked my legs up. Yes. Comfortable. I feel comfortable. And safe. ‘Come on, Alex.’

He looked a lot more serious, suddenly. Less of the Greek god and a bit more like the businessman he must be, under all the stone dust and the stammer, to have a place like this. His eyes lost all the smiley lines and gained a serious darkness. ‘I f-feel it’s unfair to you. Y-you’re this lovely w-woman who’s just b-blown into our lives, so kind and . . .’ he tailed off, ‘but I need h-help. I c-can’t do this on my own.’

Oh God, I hope he’s not going to suggest that I become his nanny. Well, not his nanny, obviously, unless he’s into any of that really weird shit with nappies and breastfeeding . . . I found myself staring at him, wondering just what he was into, and then realising that he was still talking, ‘and I don’t know w-what to say to her. It’s g-got worse because she b-brought you into it, you know.’

And then, to make me feel even worse than a fantasy of Dan, he told me that Lucy had come to tell him there had been invitations being handed out at school yesterday. One of the children in Scarlet’s class was having a birthday party and every other child had been invited, except for Scarlet, and how, when Lucy had remonstrated with the invitation-giver, Scarlet had said that she didn’t mind, because her friend was a famous author and was coming for tea on that day, so she couldn’t go anyway.

Some children had taken exception to Scarlet claiming a Famous Friend that nobody had ever seen — obviously I hadn’t looked anything like famous when I’d collected her from school. Fame doesn’t wear an oversized anorak or grotty jog bottoms, which probably comes as a shock to J. K. Rowling, and a fight had ensued. Scarlet had, apparently, given as good as she got, but obviously it was a situation that couldn’t continue.

‘She h-has nightmares.’ Alex had flopped down on the sofa next to me. ‘D-dreams that I die and she’s on h-her own. And I d-dd . . .’ A resigned look and a shrug and he didn’t even bother to try to finish the sentence. The muscles around his jaw twitched with the unsaid.

I tipped my head forward and cupped my hands over my face. ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I came here to finish my book, not to get tied up in something that sounds like an episode of The Archers.’ Then I let my hands fall, turned to look into those grey eyes. ‘But I like you, I like Scarlet and I’m not particularly keen on any of those unnecessarily glittery mothers or their shiny nylon children, so I can at least try to fix this particular bit of your niece’s life.’

Alex relaxed, just a little. I saw his shoulders drop and a little hope creep into his weary face. ‘I l–like you too, if that helps.’ One hand crossed the cushion which lay between us and onto my lap, loosely covering my fingers with his own. ‘I r-really do.’

I turned my own hand so that it bowled upwards and curled into his rough palm. ‘I just don’t think I’d be any good for you. I’m not . . .’ Not so many things. Not ready to settle down in a small town, not keen on taking on a child, not quite ready yet to live this kind of life.

Not over Dan.

‘Not good at relationships,’ I finished, chickening out of a proper explanation.

‘You and D-Dan . . .’ Alex gently drew his fingers in, enclosing my hand completely. His skin was hard, calloused from a proper job, like the bark of a tree. ‘I understand, honestly I d-do. The way he b-behaved, the way he treated you and D-Daisy.’ He leaned a little further forward, so that our faces were very close. ‘I would never, never d-do that.’

Stone dust had fallen into the little lines around his mouth, decorating his stubble with sweat-beaded balls. His lips were still moving, soundlessly now, his grasp on my hand firming with every inch he leaned in and his breath, scented with coffee, played across my mouth, promising heat and yet raising chills down the back of my neck. Closer. I closed my eyes.

A microsecond of pressure, of warmth and moisture, and then the stairs let out their fanfare of rattling as Scarlet whirled her way back up and hit the door running. Alex and I jerked apart as though someone had electrified the sofa. ‘Is my tea ready yet?’

‘She’s got a spy camera in here. It’s the only explanation,’ I muttered to Alex out of the corner of my mouth, and he smiled back with his eyebrows raised in a rueful acknowledgement. The chills had migrated and joined the warmth that had spread upwards. Somewhere around my middle there was a minor hurricane taking place as I began to acknowledge this desperately sexy man as something more than just a shadow in a corner. Somebody real, not only a set of broad shoulders, an exquisitely well-formed backside and thighs like a set of architectural supports, but a breathing, feeling person with whom I may, just may, have some real kind of connection. If I wanted it.

‘I’ll see if it’s r-ready.’ He stood up and the space next to me felt like loneliness.

‘I’d better go.’

They both swung round. ‘Oh, can’t Winter have her tea with us, Alex? Winter, Alex has some proper food in the freezer, he likes that kind of chicken in that yellow stuff, you could both have that.’ And then, with a prescience that she’d so far failed to exhibit any signs of, ‘I can go and play outside again.’

I smiled. ‘Sorry, Scarlet, but your grandma has asked me to talk to her book group tomorrow, so I ought to do some preparation for that, check how many copies of Book of the Dead I’ve got hanging around, decide what to say and make sure I’ve got something clean to wear, that kind of thing.’

‘Oh.’ Scarlet jutted her lower lip at the plate of incipient brown Alex was preparing for her. ‘Well, I suppose that’s all right then.’

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