“You’re back!” cried Poppy, bouncing into the room and breaking the moment. “Layla thought she’d heard you.”
“We are,” confirmed Carrie, giving Michael a little smile before turning her attention to her daughter. “And the pizzas are in the oven. Did Layla do your nails?”
“Not yet,” Poppy said. “She said we’ll do it outside because her dad would go crazy if she got polish on the coffee table. And that would be nothing to how crazy he’d be if we got it on the sofas. Would you be crazy, Michael?”
“Probably,” Michael replied with a nod.
Layla came to join them with a large make-up box in her hands.
“Are you ready to choose what colour you want, Pops?”
“Yep!” Poppy said, beaming.
“Come on then.” Layla led the way into the garden, where the girls began taking out nail varnishes on the table.
“Shall we go out and join them?” suggested Michael. “Or do the pizzas require very intense supervision?”
“To be honest, you can never be too careful with pizzas.” Carrie winked. They sat down opposite each other at the table.
“This bubbly is not bad at all,” said Michael, taking a sip.
“What can I say? My aunt has good taste.”
“Are you looking forward to seeing her when she gets back from holiday?”
“I am. I haven’t decided how long we’ll stay once she returns, but we definitely won’t head straight back to London. It’ll be nice to spend some time with her.”
“I bet she’s great as an aunt.”
“The best,” Carrie confirmed. “Especially if you happen to like books.”
“She and your uncle were so good to me when I was a child. I was a bit of a lost soul as a teen and Peter and your aunt and uncle took me under their wings. I’m eternally grateful to them.”
Before Carrie could ask more, Poppy came running in to show them both her purple sparkly nails.
Michael laid the table and Carrie got a salad together and drinks for the girls as Poppy and Layla checked on Tabitha and the kittens, taking numerous photos in the process to sendthrough to Poppy’s granny. The girls washed their hands as Carrie took the pizzas out of the oven. The French doors were left open while they ate, allowing a gentle breeze to cool the warm kitchen. Monty positioned himself on Carrie’s foot. She really did seem to have made a friend for life.
When they’d all eaten their fill, the girls cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher while Carrie washed and cut up the strawberries and Michael made them both espressos in his fancy, shiny coffee machine.
They took their puddings and drinks outside and soon Layla, Michael and Carrie found themselves having their nails painted by Poppy, who claimed she needed the practice. Which it turned out she did.
Carrie couldn’t help smiling as Michael had each of his fingernails painted a different colour and Layla patiently taught Poppy how to get rid of the excess varnish from the pot and what direction to paint in. She felt a wave of contentment wash over her which was by no means solely down to the couple of glasses of prosecco she’d had.
They stayed talking in the garden until Poppy, who’d climbed up on to Michael’s lap, began yawning and fighting to keep her eyes open.
“I think I’d better get you up to bed, Pumpkin,” Carrie said to her now sleeping daughter. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Michael, and for the nail care tips, Layla.”
“Thank you for everything today, you were fantastic,” said Michael.
“Even when I put calming music on for your cat?”
“Especially when you put calming music on for my cat,” Michael said. He stood up with Poppy in his arms. “Let me carry her for you. You’ll never be able to unlock doors if you’ve got her.”
“Thank you,” said Carrie, gratefully. Poppy was heavy.
“Bye, Carrie, bye, Poppy!” said Layla, who was packing up her nail varnishes.
“Bye, sweetheart,” said Carrie.
