“Mummy, why were you talking to Mr Caddick?”
Was there no question my child thought it wrong to ask? “He was asking me about Puffin Bay.”
“Does he like Puffin Bay?” Heidi bounced on the sofa next to me. “Did you tell him about the cakery?”
“I didn’t, but I’m sure he’ll find it.” Or he’d have a line of parents queuing up to give him a slice of their cake, pun intended, by Wednesday. The man was candy for the eyes, tall, broad shouldered, dark hair that was almost black and a shadow of scruff that I doubted could ever be shaved completely smooth. He was stupidly handsome and I wasn’t surprised that I’d been a nervous wreck talking to him.
He was also kind and nice and had a sense of humour, which made me wonder whether he was secretly a psychopath given his ex-wife had cheated on him, or maybe he wasn’t very good in bed, although it had been that long for me, I wouldn’t know the difference anyway.
“Mummy, why are you looking like that?”
“Like what?” Oh lord, what face had I been pulling?
“Were you thinking about eating cake?”
I exhaled. That would do. “I was. I was thinking about Amelie’s chocolate fudge cake with the strawberries on the top. Do you think Mia might want to go there tomorrow?”
Back to the matter in hand.
Mia.
We’d had tea and played on the beach, then it was home and baths as promised. Heidi had been in and out as quickly as she could, promising me she’d washed properly. I still ran her bath and made sure everything was ready for her when she got out, warm towel, hairbrush, clean underwear and her pyjamas, but she was old enough – nearly six – to have some independence however much I’d been reluctant to give it.
I’d done the same for Mia. Running the bath, adding bubbles which Heidi didn’t care for, laying out clean PJ’s again and opening a new pack of knickers. She’d been spellbound by the bath and the bubbles and then looked shy.
“What if I get the towels dirty? Will you be cross?”
I’d smiled and shaken my head, realising once again that something was very not right. “You’ll be shiny clean when you’ve had a bath so you won’t get the towels dirty.” I rummaged in the bathroom cabinet for the antibac wipes. “If you want to help me, you can give the bath a very quick wipe with these afterwards, but don’t spend too long on it because it’s bathroom cleaning day tomorrow.” I doubted my own daughter ever gave a single thought to how she left the bathroom – in fact, I had evidence that she didn’t give many thoughts about it, which was fine because she was five. Five-year-olds shouldn’t worry about making messes or dirtying towels. They should be doing both those things.
“I think Mia would love cake at Amelie’s,” I said as I exited the bathroom. “Has Mia been there before?” I was fishing now, which I felt slightly guilty about, mining my daughter for information.
Heidi shrugged. “I don’t know. She said her mum doesn’t have much money to spend.” She squirmed on the sofa. “She takes food home at lunch to have for her tea and she feels bad because she knows it’s stealing.”
“You know, I’m sure the cook would make-up an extra plate for her to take home. She won’t mind.” I knew the school cook; she’d told me several times how she used to baby sit Joel when he was a kid and how she’d cleaned him up once when he’d had an accident in his pants. She’d told me that in front of Joel, who hadn’t been embarrassed in the slightest and had acknowledged it all with his usual laid back good humour.
I missed him.
I missed that humour every day, usually when I least expected to remember it.
“Maybe you could ask Cook for Mia. Mia’s really shy.” Heidi cuddled into me, which would probably last about three minutes because she was currently considering herself too old and grown up for cuddles most of the time.
“What else has Mia said about her mum? Is Mia’s mum out a lot?” I was pretty sure I shouldn’t be trying to find out more information from my daughter.
Heidi kicked the cushion which for some reason was annoying her. “She’s never home when Mia gets home from school. Mia has to wait in the garden for her, sometimes until it’s dark. And Mia’s mum doesn’t wake up in the morning to help Mia get ready for school, so Mia doesn’t have any breakfast.” My daughter looked at me with guilty eyes.
“Is that why you’ve been asking me every morning for a cereal bar after breakfast and an apple?” It made sense now, the insistence she’d had for a second breakfast or a snack at break.
Heidi pulled her face and refused to meet my eyes with hers.
“I don’t mind. You should’ve told me it was for Mia and I’d have gotten something better for her. Cereal bars taste like cardboard.” I wrinkled my nose and gave Heidi a squeeze. “And I’m not cross. You were doing a kind thing.”
She nodded solemnly. “She cried once because she was so hungry. I think she wakes up sometimes and her mum isn’t home yet too. She said she gets scared when she’s alone at home.”
I held Heidi a little tighter, tight enough that she wriggled away from me.
“Mum, that was hard.”
I laughed, releasing her. “I should go and check if Mia’s finished in the bath and then we can have cocoa.”
