‘Poor little kid,’ he said. ‘I think she’s more of a nuisance to Victoria than anything, messes up her perfect life and colour scheme. I donotunderstand,’ he added fiercely, ‘why people insist on having children they don’t want.’
For a moment, I saw the sad little boy whose only function in life had been to inherit, rather than having been born to be loved and nurtured and enjoyed. I spoke carefully.
‘Maybe people don’t always realise what the reality of having a baby is, and that the baby will grow up.’
‘Or all they want is for the baby to grow up and stop being a bother.’
I had an inexplicable urge to reach out to this man, to hold him and tell him until he understood it that he was loved, very much so, by the people who lived in this house. All he had to do was accept that love. But instead, I made a noncommittal noise and said, ‘I think Sofia feels happy here already. There’s not much you can do about her home life, but you can show her that she’s welcomed and wanted at Lyonscroft.’
He looked at me sharply, then turned away to look out of the window, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. When he spoke, his voice shook with emotion.
‘And then she’ll leave, like everyone else. So, what’s the point?’
He was asking the wrong person. Hadn’t I decided, too, that the pain of loss outweighed the joy of love and that I was safer alone?
‘I don’t completely know,’ I said slowly, and he turned to look at me again, his face anxious. ‘But part of it is in the happiness you can bring someone else, as much as get for yourself, and in knowing that people carry that with them, even if you’re not there to see it.’
‘So, you’re saying I’m selfish?’
Maybe a touch self-absorbed, I thought, but I wasn’t going to say that after two days in this man’s employment.
‘I didn’t mean that,’ I replied. ‘Just trying to help. Anyway, I’d better go and find Marilise.’
For a second, I could have sworn that he pouted, then the smooth, bland expression I had seen before wiped all emotion from his face.
‘See you later.’
I ran back downstairs, knowing Marilise was looking forward to hearing all about Sofia’s reaction to the present, and determined to push thoughts of the guarded, wounded Nick from my mind.
The next day, when it was time to take Marilise for a swim, I called Sofia as I had promised. As the three of us splashed about, she chatted about Reddo and Steve and Firefly, and I was glad to see her so much happier already.
‘I like swimming, too,’ she said. ‘But not on my back. I won’t be able to come with you again until the weekend, though, because I’ve got to go to school tomorrow.’
‘Why aren’t you there today?’ I asked, having completely forgotten about the arrangement.
‘They thought I needed a day to get over the jetlag,’ she replied, then she lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘I don’t, I feel fine, but I didn’t say.’ Her eyes darted between me and Marilise and a note of worry entered her voice. ‘You won’t, will you? Say anything?’
‘Of course not!’ said Marilise. ‘I think it is sensible, anyway, to have one full day to settle in, do you not agree, Laura?’
I nodded solemnly.
‘I certainly do. No need to rush these things.’
I was about to ask her who she thought we should do the second advent calendar window for, when, before I could properly understand what was happening, Steve dashed into the room barking madly and hurled himself gleefully into the water. All three of us screamed. Sofia, near the side, clutched onto it, and I went straight over to Marilise. Steve doggy paddled around, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth and giving him the most comical expression of delight. Confident that Marilise was all right, I started wading over to the dog, who was having none of it.
‘Comehere!’ I said, trying to grab his collar, but he swam away, far more agile in the water than me. If he had been a person, he would have been screaming with laughter. I turned to Marilise and Sofia in despair, half laughing myself, when Nick came striding into the room.
‘Steve!’ he bellowed.
Steve took no notice and swam around in a little circle, looking pleased with himself.
‘For God’s sake,’ muttered Nick, taking off his shoes and socks and rolling his jeans up. He stepped onto the first shallow step behind the fountain. ‘Steve, come here!’ Nothing. ‘Laura, would you mind getting around behind him and sort of shooing him towards me?’
He darted a look of frustration towards Marilise and Sofia, who were now clutching each other and giggling. Stifling a smile myself, I swam around behind the dog and started half flapping, half splashing him. He looked balefully at me, then Nick, but did start to head towards his master. When he got there, he scrambled up the steps, evaded Nick’s grasping hand and shook himself vigorously. By now all three of us in the water were in stitches, and the more furious poor Nick looked, the funnier the whole thing seemed. Eventually, he managed to grab Steve’s collar. He stood there, barefoot, his shirt covered in splashedwater and his jeans soaking. He looked from Steve to us and back to his dog again and I was worried that we were all in for a telling-off. But suddenly, unexpectedly, the thunderclouds rolled back and he, too, grinned, then started laughing.
‘This stupid dog!’ he howled. ‘Every day there’s something, it’s ridiculous. Well, I’m glad you three have enjoyed the show – I’m off to find a towel and ring the pound.’
He went off, still smiling and shaking his head, unable to be properly cross with any of us, let alone his precious dog.
