“I can see what you mean. It hurts to hear it.” Because it did. I was their dad and I should’ve been protecting them. By working, I thought I was looking after them.
“I can imagine and I can’t take those words back. But it what’s gone has gone and all that. It’s what happens going forwards. I’m not going to be their mammy, but I will mother them and I won’t be moved.”
I took a big breath, my own eyes unusually wet. “You like a challenge, don’t you?”
“I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t and I have a very good idea what I’m walking into. I do need you to trust me though. I promise I’ll act in their best interests.”
“Not mine?” I made sure my words sounded light hearted.
“Absolutely not.”
The driveway to the house was long and winding, tree lined and green, even in summer. The usual feeling of apprehension and nerves cluttered in my stomach. It’d been years since I’d looked forward to coming home, never entirely sure what mood Rachael would be in, or what carnage I’d need to sort out when I walked through the door.
Carnage was the right word for it today.
We walked through the front doors into the hall, the floor littered with toys and paper and my aunt who was standing there with her arms folded and her suitcase next to her.
“These children are now your problem, Grant, and whoever your friend is. I will not be helping out again in the future. The other nanny left last night and said she won’t be returning and I can understand why.”
My aunt had always reminded me of a Victorian school ma’am. She’d never married and never had kids. I remember thinking that she hated me as a child and I stayed well out of her way.
Three pairs of eyes peered around a door. Callum walked into the middle of the doorway, dressed just in bottoms. He looked filthy, like he’d been rolling in mud.
“I’m sorry it’s been difficult, Aunt Hannah. Thank you for – erm – keeping them alive.” Because that was probably a challenge in itself.
“Never again.” She looked at Callum and shook her head. “He’s a beautiful child, but his brothers and sister are leading him astray already. You need to think about boarding school and the sooner the better. They need discipline.”
“I’ll consider it.” I was aware of Marie moving slowly over to them, crouching down about two feet away from Callum. “Thanks, again, Aunt Hannah.”
“I’ll see myself out. You need to sort out those scoundrels.” She didn’t even say goodbye to them, opening the door and pulling her suitcase behind her.
“Daddy, what’s a scoundrel?” Claire appeared from behind the door and launched herself into my arms.
“A person who is a bit naughty, so your aunt’s probably right. You’re filthy, what’ve you been doing?”
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “We were gardening. We were being helpful.”
I wasn’t sure that was going to be the case.
I looked over at Marie who now had hold of Callum, holding him close to her even though he was absolutely full of mud too. Max and Jackson made their way into the hall, Jackson slightly more messy than the rest of them. Max had a long graze on his arm and needed a haircut. Jackson looked like he’d been planted in compost for a week as he’d grown.
“I’m sure you were. This is Marie, my friend. She’s staying with us.” I looked at her, not sure what else to say.
Her smile wasn’t for me this time. “It looks like you’ve been having fun. What do you think you need now?”
Max put his arm around Jackson’s shoulders. “Callum needs a bath.” He looked at Claire and then himself. “We need to get clean too. I think I’ve ripped my T-shirt too. Sorry, Dad.”
“These things happen.” I didn’t want to scold him for that right now. Marie had said in the car to choose battles wisely and that seemed like good advice.
“I think we all need baths and showers,” Marie said, gently patting Callum’s back. Her accent sounded especially Irish, soft lyrical sounds that soothed me at least. “Your dad and I do as well because that was a very long flight back. So why don’t we all have baths and showers and have a pyjama party.”
Claire wriggled in my arms. “What’s a pyjama party?”
Marie looked purposefully shocked. “What do you mean, child? What’s a pyjama party? Have you never had a pyjama party before?”
Claire shook her head, her hair looking decidedly odd.
“Well, we have to solve that. A pyjama party is when we get into our PJ’s early, bring down blankets and comfies and eat treats in front of the TV. We can even make dens and be all cosy. What do you think?”
