‘And you’re a huge mouthful.’ I smile, thrilled with my exceptional wit.
He reacts as if I’ve given him an electric shock. ‘Fuck, Saoirse.’ He grabs my face and pulls my mouth towards his. He’s hungry and unleashed. His body presses me into the counter before he takes a deep, ragged breath. ‘Right. Cold shower for me, I think.’
He kisses me once more, slowly, before regretfully pulling away and leaving me to my stewed tea.
CHAPTER 25
Miles: Saturday 18 December
Spending a leisurely Saturday with Bea and a happy, smiley Saoirse is a joy. We were at the Diana Memorial Playground in Kensington Gardens this morning when I got a WhatsApp from Astrid.
How’s my dress this morning?
I chuckled to myself. Astrid called it right, as usual. I messaged her back, unable to keep the smirk off my face.
I hung it up. Promise.
A flurry of clapping-hand emojis came right back at me.
Delighted for you both. Well done.
I’m delighted too. I’m fucking thrilled. We’ve been careful not to be too touchy-feely in front of Bea, but there’s a relaxed, familiar vibe between us that makesme weirdly happy.
I lead Saoirse and Bea through the iconic glass foyer of The Royal Opera House. Saoirse’s a vision in scarlet. She’s wearing her Astrid Carmichael dress again, with heels and sheer black stockings this time.
‘Do you think Astrid will mind if I wear it again?’ she asked me worriedly earlier.
‘I think she’ll be thrilled. May as well get some mileage out of it.’
And I fully intend for that dress to hit my bedroom floor for a second time tonight.
What’s most obvious, as we settle into our box to await the curtain going up, is how amazing Saoirse is with Bea. Obviously, she’s a trained professional. But I’ve spent enough time single-parenting over the past year to fully appreciate how much time and energy she puts into every detail where Bea is concerned. Bea’s unruly mane, for example, is coaxed into a tidy French plait at the front, fastened with a navy velvet bow to match today’s dress of choice.
And Saoirse’s rucksack, which I teased her earlier for bringing along with her smart outfit, is packed full of things designed to keep Bea busy and happy. Which is excellent, because Bea’s pacing before the show has even started.
Saoirse gives her a tiny box of raisins and lays out some goodies on the floor of the box: a colouring book, a pencil case full of pencils, a sticker book, and a Barbie. She’s even brought a zip-up pouch full of Barbie clothes and combs. Bea gets to work grooming Barbie immediately.
And with her kneeling on the floor, I get Saoirse to myself for a moment.
‘You’re incredible with her.’ I stroke her hand. ‘She’s so lucky.’
She smiles at me. Her smile is so genuine, just like everything else about her. She doesn’t have a phoney bone in herbody. Allegra would have been craning her neck to check out the other boxes and see if she knew anyone from our “network”. A smile that gorgeous deserves a kiss. I lean over and brush my lips against hers. Squeeze her hand tightly.
‘Just doing my job,’ she says. ‘Besides, I adore her.’
‘You’re off duty today.’
‘Come on, Miles. You and Bea are taking me out for the most amazing day. I’d never be able to do something like this on my own.’ She gestures around at the rich, jewel-like interior of the Royal Opera House. ‘The least I can do is muck in. And it’s easy for me, processing her. I do it every day.’
‘Well, as long as you get a chance to enjoy yourself. Today is more about spoiling you than Bea.’
She stares at me. ‘Is it now? And was that your motive when you signed off on the box?’
I flush. Busted. ‘It may have occurred to me that it would be a nice treat for you, given you’re new in town. The Nutcracker is wasted on a four-year-old.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispers. Her lips brush my cheek.
‘It’s my pleasure. And you can make it up to me later.’
