Читать книгу A Forever Family: Their Christmas Delivery - Kate Hardy - Страница 14
ОглавлениеAFTER HIS SHIFT, Josh showered and changed before going down the corridor to Amy’s flat.
He felt a bit mean; she was cooking Christmas dinner for him, but he hadn’t bought her even a token present. Then again, neither of them had expected this Christmas: for a newborn to be left on their doorstep, and then to be looking after a stranger’s baby together when they barely knew each other. A present probably wasn’t appropriate in the circumstances. Besides, even if the shops had been open, he didn’t have a clue what kind of thing Amy liked—apart from coffee ice cream, and you could hardly wrap that and leave it under a tree. The wine he was carrying came from the rack in his kitchen, and the chocolates were a kind of re-gift. Which definitely made him feel like Scrooge.
‘Merry Christmas,’ he said when she opened the door in answer to his knock.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said. ‘I thought we’d eat at about half-past six, if that’s OK with you?’
‘More than OK. You have no idea how much I appreciate not having to cook for myself, or be forced to munch the leftover sausage rolls people brought in to the department because I’m starving but too tired even to make a cheese toastie,’ he said with a smile. He handed her the chocolates and wine. ‘This is my contribution for tonight.’
‘You really didn’t have to, but thank you.’
‘And I have to admit that the chocolates are from the Secret Santa at work, which makes me a bit of a Scrooge for kind of re-gifting them,’ he confessed.
‘No, it just means that you don’t usually have chocolate in the house and there aren’t any shops open. And they’re definitely appreciated,’ she said, smiling back. ‘How was your shift?’
‘Let’s just say we’ve renamed one of the twelve days of Christmas. “Five Turkey Carvers”,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’ve done quite a bit of stitching up today.’
‘Ouch,’ she said.
‘So how’s our little one doing?’ Then he realised what he’d said and felt his eyes go wide. ‘Um,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I didn’t quite...’
‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘It kind of feels like being part of a new family.’
‘Even though she isn’t ours, and we’re not...’
‘...a couple. Yeah,’ she said.
Josh looked at her. Amy wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, but she was naturally beautiful. He itched to sketch her, and it had been a long while since anyone had made him feel that way.
This was dangerous.
Part of him wanted to run; but part of him was intrigued and wanted more. To cover his confusion, he asked, ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
She shook her head. ‘Hope’s still asleep and I haven’t started cooking dinner yet, so do you want a glass of wine or a cup of tea?’
‘As it’s Christmas, let’s go for the glass of wine,’ he said.
‘And, as you said you wanted to help, you can open it.’
He followed her into the kitchen. When she handed him the corkscrew, his fingers brushed against her skin and it felt weird, as if he’d been galvanised. He was shockingly aware of her, but he didn’t dare look at her because he didn’t want her to guess what he was thinking. Had she felt it, too? And, if so, what were they going to do about it?
He shook himself mentally. They weren’t going to do anything about it. They were neighbours. Acquaintances. And that was the way it was going to stay.
He opened the wine while she took two glasses from a cupboard; then he poured the wine before lifting his own glass and clinking it against hers. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ she echoed.
‘I haven’t bought you a present,’ he said, ‘and I feel kind of bad about it.’
‘I haven’t bought you one, either,’ she said. ‘I did think about wrapping up a bottle of wine for you or something, but it didn’t feel appropriate.’
‘Considering we hardly know each other and don’t have a clue what each other likes,’ he agreed.
‘We haven’t bought Hope anything, either,’ she said, ‘but it’s fine. Christmas isn’t really about the presents, and perhaps what we’re actually giving each other is a better Christmas than we were expecting.’
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I think you might be right. You’re a wise woman, Amy Howes.’
‘It goes with the territory of being a maths teacher,’ she said with a smile.
He liked her sense of humour. And, actually, the more he talked to her, the more he liked a lot of other things about her. Which again set his alarm bells ringing. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. He was newly divorced. Not in a place to start anything with anyone.
‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘we can make a kind of present for Hope. A book of her days with us. Photographs, that kind of thing.’
‘Add in her feed and sleep charts, too?’ Amy said. ‘That’s a really nice idea. And then she’s got something to keep.’
‘So how has it been with the baby today?’ he asked.
‘Easier than yesterday. We’ve been watching Christmas movies,’ she said.
‘Sounds like a good plan.’
‘Love Actually is one of my favourite films. And you really can’t top the Christmas lobster.’
* * *
Then Amy remembered that one of the storylines in the movie involved an affair. Talk about rubbing salt in his wounds. How could she have forgotten that Josh’s wife left him for another man, last Christmas Eve? ‘Sorry. I just put my foot in it. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.’
‘I’m not a fan of romcoms,’ Josh said, ‘and you haven’t put your foot in it—even though I get what you’re saying. This is way better than Christmas was last year, believe me.’
Which didn’t make her feel any less guilty. Just about anything would be an improvement on his last Christmas. ‘Maybe I should start prepping dinner,’ she said awkwardly.
‘As the baby’s asleep, is there anything I can do?’
‘You can keep topping up the wine and chat to me in the kitchen, if you like,’ she suggested.
‘I’d like that. Funny, two days ago we were almost complete strangers,’ he said, ‘and now we’re spending Christmas together.’
‘As a kind of blended family with a baby who’s a complete stranger, too,’ she said.
‘I still don’t know anything about you,’ he said, ‘other than that you’re a maths teacher and you have a brother who lives in Canada.’
‘And you’re an emergency department doctor who’s the youngest of four.’ She shrugged. ‘OK. So what do you want to know? I’m thirty.’
‘I’m thirty-two,’ he said.
Amy started chopping the carrots into matchsticks.
‘And you obviously enjoy cooking—or at least you’re good at it,’ Josh said.
She smiled. ‘Thank you, and I do. Does that mean you don’t?’
‘I’d rather wash up than cook,’ he said. ‘Obviously I can cook a few basics—you wouldn’t survive as a student unless you knew how to make stuff like spaghetti Bolognese and cheese toasties—but spending all that time making something that people will wolf down in two seconds flat and then forget about...’ He smiled. ‘Or maybe that’s the medic in me talking.’
‘So food’s fuel rather than a pleasure?’
‘At work, yes,’ he admitted. ‘Shamefully, I eat a chocolate bar on the run for my lunch way more often than I ought to.’
‘So what sort of things do you like doing outside work?’ Amy grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. This sounds like a terrible speed-dating sort of grilling.’
‘Speed-dating,’ he said, ‘is something I’ve never actually done.’
‘Me neither,’ she agreed. ‘Though I guess, when you get to our age, it’s probably about your only option for meeting someone, if you haven’t already clicked with someone you met at work or with a friend of a friend at a party.’
‘And if you’re in a job with unsocial hours, work means that half the time you’re not on the same shift and it’s hard to find a time when you can actually do something together,’ he added. ‘Though I think being set up with a friend of a friend is worse than dating someone at work, because then if it doesn’t work out it makes things a bit awkward with your friend. You feel a bit guilty and as if you’ve let your friend down.’
‘That sounds like experience talking,’ Amy said.
Josh wrinkled his nose. ‘I did have a couple of well-meaning friends try to set me up, earlier this year, but I told them I just wasn’t ready.’
She nodded. ‘I know what you mean. It was a while before I could face dating after I split up with Michael; then, after that, I just didn’t meet anyone I could click with.’
Though she had a feeling that she could click with Josh, given the chance. It surprised her how much she liked him and how easy he was to talk to.
‘One of my friends tried speed-dating a few months back,’ Josh said. ‘He tried to talk me into going with him, but it sounded a bit too much like a meat market for me. He did say afterwards that all the women he’d met had had a massive list of questions they’d prepared earlier, and it felt like the worst kind of job interview.’
‘I guess asking questions is a quick way of getting to know someone,’ she said.
He smiled at her. ‘Maybe we should look at one of those lists. It’ll save us having to think up our own questions.’
‘Good idea,’ she said, carefully separating the tenderstem broccoli and adding it to her pile of stir-fry veg before starting on the butternut squash.
Josh took his phone from his pocket and flicked into the Internet. ‘Here we go. What you do at work? Well, we already know that about each other. Where are you from?’ He frowned. ‘That’s pretty irrelevant.’ He flicked further down the list. ‘OK. Let’s try this one. What’s the one thing about yourself that you’d like me to know?’
‘I don’t have a clue,’ she said.
‘Me, neither. Let’s skip to the next one.’ He grimaced. ‘That’s all about your last relationship. It’s too intrusive. Same as whether you’re looking to get married.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe you’d actually ask a complete stranger if they’re looking to get married when you’re thinking about maybe dating them for the first time. I mean—you might be completely incompatible. Why would you talk about marriage that early on?’
‘Maybe that’s the point of speed-dating. To speed everything up,’ Amy said. ‘If you want to settle down but the person you’re thinking about dating doesn’t, you’re both kind of wasting each other’s time.’
‘That question still feels wrong.’ He scrolled down the page. ‘This is a bit more like it. What do you do for fun?’
‘Music,’ she said promptly. ‘Not clubbing—I like live music, whether it’s a tiny venue where there’s only enough room for a couple of dozen people listening to someone playing an acoustic guitar, or a big stadium with a massive stack of amps and a light show.’
‘What kind of music?’ he asked.
‘All sorts—everything from pop to rock. I’m not so keen on rap,’ she said, ‘but I love the buzz you get from going to a concert and singing along with the rest of the audience. What about you?’
‘I tend to listen to rock music when I’m running,’ he said. ‘Something with a strong beat that keeps me going.’
‘So you’re a runner?’
‘Strictly outdoor. I like the fresh air, and the views,’ he said, ‘rather than being cooped up in a gym on a treadmill where you just see the same patch of wall for half an hour or so.’
‘Park or river?’ she asked.
‘If it’s wet, river,’ he said, ‘purely because you’re less likely to slide on the mud and rick your ankle. If it’s dry, definitely the park because it’s lovely to see all that green, especially in spring when all the leaves are new and everything looks fresh. And if I worked regular hours I’d definitely have a dog to run with me.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t have a dog because my hours aren’t regular and it wouldn’t be fair to leave the dog alone for so long.’
‘You look like a Labrador person,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘Or a spaniel. Or a Dalmatian—where I lived before, our neighbour had this amazing Dalmatian who used to smile at me. And it really was a friendly greeting rather than baring his teeth, because his tail was wagging so hard the whole time.’
Amy could see the wistfulness on his face. The breakup of his marriage had cost him more than just his relationship.
‘How about you?’ he asked.
‘No to the running. I like spinning classes,’ she said, ‘because I don’t have to worry about riding a bike in traffic and I don’t have to drag myself outside when it’s wet.’
‘That’s reasonable—though, actually, running in the rain is great. Dog or cat?’
‘Dog,’ she said. ‘But, like you, I don’t want to leave a dog cooped up alone in my flat all day. So I make the most of it when I go to see my parents—they’ve got Border terriers.’
He continued scrolling through the list of questions. ‘Some of these definitely sound more like the sort of thing you’d ask in a job interview. Why would you ask someone if they have a five-year plan?’
‘Because you want to know if they’re ambitious and would put their career before your relationship; or find out if they’re the kind of person who drifts along and gets stuck in a bit of a rut,’ she suggested.
‘Which in turn probably means your relationship will end up in a rut, too.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘There have to be easier ways of getting to know what a person’s like.’
‘In the space of three minutes, or however long it is you have on a speed date? I don’t think you have a choice but to ask intrusive questions,’ she said.
‘I give up on the list. What sort of thing would you ask?’
‘About their interests,’ she said. ‘Dating someone who wanted to spend their whole weekend playing sport or watching sport would be pretty wearing.’
‘Yes, because when would you get time to do other things together?’ he agreed.
‘In the evenings, maybe—something like the cinema?’ she suggested.
‘I haven’t been to the cinema in way too long,’ he said. ‘I tend to end up waiting for things to come out on DVD, and even then I haven’t caught up with all the latest releases, and I’ve got a pile of stuff I’ve been meaning to see and haven’t had time for.’
‘So why don’t you go to the cinema?’ she asked. ‘Because you like the kind of things that nobody else does, so you’d have to go on your own?’
‘Art-house movies in a foreign language?’ he asked. ‘No, it’s more that my duty roster tends to get in the way and everyone’s already seen the film before I get a chance. I like the big sci-fi blockbusters.’
‘Ah. Now I have a question for you. Team Cap or Team Iron Man?’ she asked.
‘Team Cap,’ he said promptly, and she gave him a high five.
‘So you like the same kind of films as I do?’ he asked.
‘Yup. I do like romcoms as well, but I’ve always been a sci-fi geek. And I bought myself the one that came out last week as an early Christmas present. I know it’s not strictly a Christmas movie, but maybe we could watch it tonight.’
‘And we can pause it if Hope needs a nappy change or a feed. Great idea.’ He smiled at her. ‘So we like the same kind of films and music. How about TV?’
‘Cop dramas,’ she said. ‘That’s my guilty pleasure. All the Scandinavian noir stuff.’
‘Again, I have to watch them on catch-up half the time, but me too,’ he said.
‘Right. Crosswords or number puzzles?’
He groaned. ‘Neither. I’m assuming that you’d go for the maths problems?’
‘Absolutely.’ She smiled. ‘Reading—fiction or non-fiction?’
‘Non-fiction,’ he said promptly, ‘and it’s usually medical journals. You?’
‘Crime fiction,’ she said. ‘I guess it’s because I like trying to solve the puzzles.’
‘Beach holiday or climbing a mountain?’ he asked.
‘Neither—city break or road trip for me,’ she said. ‘I like exploring new places and seeing the sights. You?’
‘I like the sound of the road trip,’ he said. ‘I’d love to see New England in the fall. And the hot springs and waterfalls at Yosemite.’
‘I’d guessed you’d be bored on a beach, but you strike me as a mountain-climbing type,’ she said.
‘Not so much mountains,’ he said, ‘but I did do the coast-to-coast walk for charity, one year, and I loved every second of it—even the blisters.’
‘I’m afraid the best I’ve done in the charity stakes is to make cakes and sponsor friends who do the ten-K runs,’ Amy said.
‘The main thing is that the money’s raised. It doesn’t matter who does what,’ he said.
Just as Amy finished prepping dinner, Hope woke.
‘Well, hello, Munchkin,’ he said, and scooped the baby out of her Moses basket. ‘So it’s Uncle Joshy’s turn to feed you.’
‘I’ll bring the milk in,’ Amy said.
When she took the warmed milk in, Josh was sitting on the sofa, talking to the baby in a low voice and letting her wrap her tiny fist round his little finger. The sight put a lump in her throat. Josh was so warm and kind. He’d make a fabulous father one day—but that made him off limits for her, so she’d have to ignore the attraction she felt towards him. If he wanted children, she couldn’t take his future away from him like that. And, given the way he was acting with the baby right now, she was pretty sure he’d want a family of his own one day.
* * *
Josh took the bottle of milk from Amy. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem.’
Hope closed her eyes in bliss as she drank the milk. And it was strange how natural this felt, having a warm little weight in the crook of his arm. In another life, this could’ve been his baby...
He glanced at Amy. For all his scorn about the speed-dating questions, they had at least established that they had quite a few interests in common. And the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. It had been a while since he’d met someone he felt he could really be himself with.
‘Hey. Smile,’ she said, and held up her camera.
‘For Hope’s book?’
‘You bet.’
‘Then I ought to be sitting with the Christmas tree behind me.’ He stood up, without disturbing Hope or stopping her drinking her milk, and moved so Amy could take a more Christmassy photo of them together. ‘I’ll take one of you with her later, too.’
‘Thanks.’
She laid the table while he fed the baby. ‘Sorry, it’s not going to be a proper Christmas dinner, and I don’t have any crackers or party hats—but I do have a Christmas scented candle.’
‘Sounds good. Anything I can do to help?’
‘You already are,’ she said. ‘And you’ve been at work all day. Just chill with the baby.’
This really, really felt like being part of a new little family.
Josh knew he was going to have to keep a tight grip on his imagination, because that so wasn’t happening. Yes, he found Amy attractive; but the last thing he wanted to do was to have a fling with her and then for it all to go wrong and make things awkward if he bumped into her in the lobby or the corridor. They needed to keep things strictly platonic, he reminded himself.
And that was what stopped him going to chat to her in the kitchen again when the baby had finished her feed and he’d burped her.
Though sitting there watching the baby fall asleep made his fingers itch to sketch her. When he wrote all the details of the feed down in Amy’s notebook, he couldn’t resist flicking to the very back of the book. It didn’t matter that the paper was lined and he was using a pen rather than a pencil; he gave into the urge and sketched the sleeping baby. And maybe this was something he could add to Hope’s book. Something personal.
He was so wrapped up in what he was doing that he didn’t notice Amy standing beside him, carrying a glass of wine.
‘That’s seriously good,’ she said. ‘Did you ever think about being an artist instead of a doctor?’
His big dream. The one that had been squashed before it had had a chance to grow. For once he answered honestly. ‘Not in a family of high achievers,’ he said wryly. ‘Art wasn’t quite academic enough for them.’
‘Your parents didn’t support you?’ She sounded shocked. Clearly her family was the sort to encourage her to follow her dreams rather than insist that she trod the path they’d mapped out for her.
‘They didn’t like the idea of me going to art school,’ Josh admitted. ‘They said the world had changed a lot in the last generation and there weren’t that many jobs in art.’ At least not ones that paid well. Though he ought to be fair about it. ‘I guess they had a point.’
‘What made you choose medicine instead?’ she asked.
‘Studying biology meant I could still draw,’ he said. ‘Besides, art is something I can do for me.’
‘Do you do much?’
That was the killer question. He smiled wryly. ‘It hasn’t quite worked out that way.’
‘Make the time, Josh,’ she said softly. ‘If drawing makes you happy, make the time for it.’
Kelly had never suggested that to him.
But then again, the real him hadn’t been enough for her, any more than it had been enough for his family—or Kelly would’ve had her baby with him instead of with another man.
He pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to be maudlin or filled with regrets.
‘Dinner’s about ready,’ she said.
‘Perfect timing. Munchkin here’s set to sleep for a couple of hours,’ he said. ‘Can I bring anything in for you?’
‘No, but you can light the candle, if you want. The matches are in the top drawer of the cupboard over there.’
He lit the candle and sat down while she brought in the dishes.
‘This is fabulous,’ he said after the first taste of the polenta chips sprinkled with parmesan.
‘Thanks. It’s been a while since I’ve made these,’ she said.
‘You told me to make the time for doing something I love—that goes for you, too,’ he said gently.
‘I guess. I’ll make more of an effort in the new year, as long as you promise to do the same.’
‘I will,’ he agreed. ‘I’ve been thinking—do you reckon the baby’s mother picked our block of flats at random?’
‘Maybe,’ Amy said. ‘Are you thinking she didn’t?’
‘She rang your doorbell. That might’ve been chance—but supposing you knew her?’
Amy shook her head. ‘That’s unlikely. I don’t know anyone who’s pregnant.’
‘But we think she’s young and scared, right?’ he asked, warming to his theory. ‘The chances are, she hid her pregnancy from just about everyone. But maybe she knew you from school.’
‘I didn’t recognise the handwriting, so I don’t think she’s anyone I teach,’ Amy said. She frowned. ‘But then again...’
‘What if she wrote the note with her non-writing hand?’ Josh suggested.
‘Or what if,’ Amy said slowly, ‘she’s someone I don’t teach, so I’ve never really seen her handwriting properly? Now I think about it, there’s a girl in my form who’s gone very quiet over the last few months. I did have a confidential word with her mum, but she said Freya was being difficult because her new partner had just moved in.’
‘It happens,’ Josh said. ‘How old is she?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Then maybe, if she’s unhappy at home, she’s blotting it out with the help of a boyfriend.’
‘I don’t think she has a boyfriend,’ Amy said. ‘At least, not one who’s at school. You normally hear the kids talking and work out who’s seeing who.’
‘Does she look as if she’s put on weight?’
Amy thought about it. ‘She always wears baggy clothes so it’s hard to tell. But, now you mention it, she does look as if she’s put on weight. I assumed she was comfort-eating because she was unhappy at home and I didn’t want to make her feel any worse by drawing attention to it. Teens are under such pressure when it comes to body image. I didn’t want to say something that would make her start starving herself. But I have noticed her dashing off to the loo in the middle of form time over the last term, and I was going to have a quiet word with her next term to check she didn’t have an eating disorder.’
‘Or maybe,’ Josh said, ‘she was dashing off to the loo because she was in the last trimester and the baby’s weight was putting pressure on her bladder.’
‘That’s a good point. But why didn’t she say anything to me?’
‘In the cases I’ve seen at work,’ Josh said, ‘where the mum’s under age and scared, she’s either been in denial about the situation or too scared to tell anyone in case she gets into trouble.’
‘That’s so sad,’ Amy said. ‘To be young and scared and not know where to go for help.’
‘She didn’t say anything to you,’ Josh said. ‘But it would make sense that she’d leave the baby with someone she knew would help and do the right thing for the baby.’
‘Agreed. But this is all speculation,’ she said. ‘We don’t have any proof.’
‘And we have to do this through the proper channels,’ Josh added. ‘If our theory’s right, then we could do more harm than good if we go rushing over to see her.’
‘Plus we don’t have a car seat or anyone to keep an eye on Hope while we go and see her,’ she agreed. ‘Jane, the social worker, will know the right way to go about this. We can talk to her about it.’
‘Tomorrow’s Sunday—Boxing Day—and then Monday and Tuesday are bank holidays, so she won’t be in the office for a few days,’ Josh pointed out.
‘She did give me her mobile number, but it was for emergencies—and, because this is a theory and we don’t have any real proof, it doesn’t really count as an emergency.’ Amy frowned. ‘I guess it’ll have to wait a few days.’
‘Or maybe you could text Jane tomorrow?’ he suggested. ‘Then she’ll have the information and she can decide if she wants to take it further any earlier.’
‘Good idea,’ she said.
‘I’m off duty tomorrow.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘It would’ve been nice to take the baby out to the park, but as she doesn’t have a coat and we don’t have a pram or even a sling, and there’s not going to be anywhere open tomorrow where we can buy something for her, I guess we’re stuck.’
‘It feels a bit like being snowbound,’ Amy said, ‘but without actually being snowed in.’
‘And you haven’t left your flat for two days.’ Guilt flooded through him. She’d had the majority of the burden of worrying about the baby. ‘Sorry, I should’ve thought of that earlier and suggested you went out to get some fresh air or something.’
‘No, it’s fine, but probably tomorrow I could do with some fresh air,’ she admitted, ‘if you don’t mind looking after Hope on your own for a few minutes.’
‘Sure. That’s no problem.’
After dinner, they curled up on the sofa and watched the sci-fi film together. A couple of times, Josh’s hand accidentally brushed against Amy’s and he seriously considered letting his fingers curl round hers.
But then again, she’d said she wasn’t ready for another relationship, and he knew his own head was still in a bit of a mess.
He was definitely attracted to Amy. But how could he trust that love wouldn’t go wrong for him again, the way it had with Kelly? It was better to stick to just being friends. That would be safer for all of them.
‘I guess it’s time to get some sleep,’ Amy said when she’d fed Hope and noted everything down. ‘I’ll do the next feed.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure. Feel free to leave the TV on as long as you want, though. You won’t be disturbing me.’
‘OK. I’ll get my duvet,’ he said.
‘Take my key with you,’ she said. ‘Merry Christmas, Josh.’
‘Merry Christmas, Amy.’
For a moment he thought she was going to rise on tiptoe and kiss him, and his whole body seemed to snap to attention. What would it feel like, her lips against his skin? Would her mouth be as soft and sweet as it looked? And what if he twisted his head to the side so her mouth connected with his instead of with his cheek?
He was shocked to realise how much he wanted it to happen.
And even more shocked to realise how disappointed he was when she simply smiled and headed for the bathroom instead.
Oh, help. He really had to get a grip. He and Amy were neighbours. Maybe they were on the way to being friends. This whole thing of looking after the baby together was seriously messing with his head. He didn’t want to risk his heart again. End of. So he was going to be sensible.
Completely sensible.
