Page 29 of The Missing Ingredient

“No need to explain, Moira. I do understand—”

“The thing is, we need to give her a chance. Give them both a chance. She might be the one who helps Tom build the family back together again—”

“Moira, what did you want?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Look, John’s complaining about a nagging pain in his leg,” she said, causing Marcus to smirk at a comment Tom had once made about his father’s nagging pain in the arse: Moira. “And I don’t want to take any chances, so I’m going to drive him down to A&E at St. Mary’s. But you know how long it can take waiting to see someone. And if I bring the girls along, I just know they’ll be bored to tears and start climbing the walls within minutes. But I can’t leave them here by themselves. Tom would come straight home if I called, but I don’t want to spoil his special day. So I wondered if—”

“Give me half an hour.”

When Marcus saw Daniel’s resigned expression, he almost relented. Instead, he pulled the phone away from his ear and mouthed the wordsfamily emergency.

“Oh, Marcus, you are a dear” came Moira’s voice as Daniel nodded. “If you could pick them up and take them home to their place, I should be back by nine at the very latest.”

“Have they had their tea?”

“No, but I can do that when I get there—”

“Don’t be daft. If they’ve been running around your back garden all day, they’ll be fast asleep by nine. Don’t worry, I’ll fix tea for them and make sure they both have baths before bedtime. And I’ll get their pack lunches ready for school tomorrow morning. If Katie has her pencil case with her, can you make sure she brings it home? She needs her ruler and pencils for her numbers lesson tomorrow. If you can get them both ready now, I’ll pick them up from the front door.”

“You are an angel. See you soon.”

Even though he was still smiling, Daniel shook his head. “That family owns you. So today’s your turn to beat a retreat. One of these days we’ll manage to spend a whole meal together.”

“You’re more than welcome to join me. If you want?”

“Kids, potties, and baths? I’ll pass, thanks. Bit too much reality for me,” said Daniel, reaching in his pocket for a slip of paper. “And before I forget, you might want to give this number a ring sometime. One of the numbers Ken Villers gave us came up trumps.”

BYeight thirty, Marcus had finally managed to get Katie off to sleep when he heard the soft thump of the front door closing. Tom had once complained that his mother had a habit of heading straight for the living room and flicking on the television, which might wake Katie, the lighter sleeper of the two. So after checking on both girls—Charlotte’s bedclothes already a mess from her sleep fidgeting—he crept out the door and tiptoed in socked feet down the bedroom stairs. Fortunately, in the small two-up two-down house, carpeted throughout, he could do that quickly and almost silently. But when he reached the second-to-bottom stair and looked toward the door, the figure standing there was not who he had expected.

“Tom?” he said quizzically in a hushed whisper.

Tom stood frozen just inside the door, and even without asking, Marcus could tell something was up. In hugging 501s and the off-white Paul Smith silk shirt Marcus had bought him for Christmas, the top two buttons open, he looked good enough to eat. But the salacious compliment Marcus had been about to let fly froze on his lips. Marcus had lost that right.

“Just managed to get the girls off to sleep,” said Marcus, nodding back up the stairs before forcing a quick smile. “I thought Moira was going to come back tonight. Told me you were busy romancing Jeanette.”

Marcus had meant to lighten Tom’s mood with the words, but they seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of smiling, Tom scowled and shook his head briefly before looking away.

“Mum texted, but I couldn’t call during the film. Phoned and told her I’d come back, even though she tried to insist. She has enough on her plate looking after Dad.”

“Is he okay? John? I worry about him sometimes. Especially being pushed around every day by that old woman you call your mother.”

“He’s fine,” said Tom, this time a small smile lightening one side of his mouth as he returned his gaze to Marcus. “Just the bloody arthritis playing up. They’re back home now.”

Marcus took the brief pause between them to step down into the living room and stand facing Tom. At almost the same moment, Tom tossed his keys onto the hall table and then stepped farther into the room, coming to an abrupt halt.

“Hey. Looking sharp, Mr. Vine,” said Tom, his gaze traveling up and down Marcus’s body, sending an electric ripple through him. “Were you on a date of your own? Oh shit, tell me we didn’t scupper your afternoon?”

Marcus couldn’t help the laughter that burst from him. So much for straight men not giving other men compliments. Perhaps Tom had mellowed. Or probably he’d had a few beers over lunch.

“Don’t worry about it. More of a boozy brunch with a friend. Catching up on life. How about Jeanette? Was she okay ending the night early?” said Marcus, relaxing a little. “If it’d been me with you dressed to kill like that, I’d have had you handcuffed to the bedposts by now.”

As soon as the smart-mouth comment left his lips, Marcus held his breath. But despite a slight darkening of the cheeks, Tom’s smile broadened into a chuckle. Yes, the man had definitely chilled. “She was a little disappointed. But she has a six-year-old boy. So she knows the deal of single parenthood.”

“And how was it? You know…?”

“Fine. Everything was fine. Not really my kind of thing, but entertaining enough, I suppose. Jeanette seemed to enjoy it, anyway.”

Wow, thought Marcus, there’s a ringing endorsement. Tom’s words came out so flat that Marcus wondered for a second if something had happened. Only then did Marcus realize that Tom was avoiding eye contact again. A silence fell between the two, something both must have noticed, because when they spoke, they did so at the same time.

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