I take one of her hands and squeeze it gently. ‘We’re going to write it down, all right?I’d like to see my mummy.Does that sound good? But we should remember that all these things are just wishes, and sometimes Santa has the power to grant them, and sometimes he doesn’t.’
I write the damn phrase down on the letter before Bea prints her name at the bottom, teeth biting down on her lower lip and little fingers applying immense pressure to the pencil as she makes her wobbly strokes.
The visit to Santa is a success. Bea and I are equally charmed by his wooden cabin, shelves lined with old books and wooden toys. Bea’s a little shy with him at first, but she clambers onto his lap and hands him her letter, which we’ve rolled into a scroll and tied with velvet ribbon.
‘This is a beautiful letter, Bea,’ Santa tells her. ‘I wish all children took the time to make me such a special letter. I will keep it very safe.’
He acquits himself well, even faced with theI’d like to see my mummybombshell.
‘Mummies are a bit tricky,’ he tells Bea. ‘They aren’t really in my power, not like toys. But I know your mummy loves you very much, and I hope you get to see her soon.’
Bea seems happy enough with his answers, but she’sflagging by the time we complete the short walk down Knightsbridge to The Montague. It’s almost time for her tea.
I slide my keycard into the door and crank down the handle. As I open the door to the penthouse, my brain seems to process everything in slow motion.
An enormous pile of luggage just inside the door frame.
Miles’ voice and a woman’s voice.
A blur of golden hair and beige drapery hurling itself towards the door.
A glance at a face that’s surely familiar.
And Bea’s scream.
The most primal, desperate sound I have ever heard as she shrieks one word.
‘Mummy!’
CHAPTER 28
Saoirse: Thursday 23 December
The only thing I can seem to latch onto, while Bea and her mum cling onto each other and cry, and laugh, and marvel at each other, is Miles’ face.
He’s a man who’s seen a ghost.
He watches his ex-wife and his daughter before turning to me, and there’s no faking the panic and conflict on his face. His eyes are wide, and he takes a step towards me before stopping himself.
‘Allegra,’ he says, and all his former social awkwardness returns in one fell swoop. ‘Meet Saoirse, who’s been nannying for us.’
I’m back to being the nanny.
Just like that.
Of course I am.
There’s no way I’d expect Miles to acknowledge any other aspect of our relationship in front of this woman.
Bea’s mum looks up at me, gets to her feet and shoots me a huge smile. She bends and scoops Bea up in her arms before coming for me, so we end up in a kind of group hug. Wow. She smells incredible. And she feels incredible. She’s wrappedin gorgeous, neutral cashmere and her hair is all shiny and bouncy and perfect. Elle Macpherson hair.
And also, most devastatingly, she isbeautiful. Those pictures had nothing on the real deal. She pulls out of the hug and pats me on the arm.
‘Saoirse! So great to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from Bea and Monty! Thank you so much for looking after my little one so well!’
Monty?I glance over at Miles. His face has turned to stone. I know that expression. He’s totally retreated.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ I spit out. ‘She’s an amazing little lady.’ I smile at Bea, who’s staring at her mother in adoration while she strokes her mum’s hair and sucks her thumb. She couldn’t have conjured her up from the other side of the world, just by writing a letter to Santa? Could she? I shake myself.Don’t be bloody ridiculous, Saoirse.
