Nick sank down, torn between outrage and disbelief. ‘And none of these mutual friends thought to tell me I’d got you pregnant?’
‘They didn’t know. I was embarrassed, especially after you ghosted me. And anyway, shortly after our hook-up, the pandemic hit and everyone from that old crowd went their separate ways. Look,’ said Carla, leaning forward, ‘I’m not asking you to take her forever. Just for a few days. I’ll FaceTime her every evening, and if you want a DNA test, fine, we can do that too. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other option.’
Nick’s instinct was to tell her no, to slam the door, to crawl into bed and pretend none of this was happening. Something inside him, some uneasy recognition, stopped him. He cast his mind back to those reckless party days, remembering a girl with bleached curls, shy, always on the periphery of the group.
‘You changed your hair.’
‘I did.’ As she tugged at a black ringlet, a flicker of emotion crossed Carla’s face. Hope? Relief that she’d been recognised? Nick couldn’t tell.
‘She looks nothing like me,’ he muttered, a weak protest even to his own ears.
Carla’s eyes flicked towards the snug. ‘Check again when she smiles.’
For the first time, Nick looked closely. The shape of her nose. The tilt of her eyes. Something shifted in his chest, painful and undeniable.
He swallowed hard. ‘You really want to leave her here?’
‘I don’t want to.’ Carla’s voice cracked at last. ‘I don’t have a choice.’
Nick didn’t answer. The silence between them stretched, filled only by the faint sound of cartoon voices from the next room.
‘Listen.’ Carla spoke quietly. ‘I’m very happy for you to do a DNA test. In fact, I’d encourage it, because I’m certain what the result will be. I was getting over a breakup when I hooked up with you. I hadn’t slept with anyone in the previous six months, and I haven’t slept with another man since.’
‘You haven’t had sex for six years?’
Carla scowled. ‘That’s your greatest concern after what I’ve told you? Funnily enough, while raising my daughter as a single mum, there hasn’t been a lot of time for dating.’ Emotion smothered her voice until it came out as a growl. ‘Anyway, I said I hadn’t slept with a man since. A man. Get it?’
‘You mean…’
Carla sighed. ‘Before you get a complex, I’d always fancied women, just never had the guts to do anything about it until recently.’
‘Let’s say you’re right, and the girl is my daughter.’ Nick swallowed the lump of dread in his throat. ‘I’m struggling to believe you have no option except to leave her with me.’
‘Trust me, there is no other option I haven’t explored. If I could take her with me, I would. I’ve already said my father’s not an easy man. He’s a lifelong alcoholic who can be verbally abusive. You could say he’s an arsehole. But he’s the only family I’ve got, and I want to be with him in his last days. I can’t lookafter Dad and Emily at the same time. So, Nick Andrews. The question is, are you going to help me out or not?’
Chapter 7
Kitty walked through the village, her fists clenched around Nick’s jacket. It was stupid to have gone home in it. Now she’d have to have yet another interaction with the full-of-himself local Lothario, and she’d had her fill the night before. If it were only the jacket, she wouldn’t have bothered. Sadly, it had the bloke’s wallet in the pocket, and she could hardly shove it in the back of the wardrobe and forget about it.
She pulled the driving licence from the wallet and checked the address again. She was on the right street at least. Kitty carried on, trying to get a sense of the houses that hid behind large gates. From street level, most looked like modest bungalows, but as the last properties before the beach, she suspected they sat tucked against the clifftop, their true size only visible from the beach below.
The gates to Nick’s house were open. Kitty paused, wishing she didn’t have to do this. As she approached the house, she could hear raised voices. Her hand hesitated on the brass knocker when the door was yanked open, and a scowling woman barrelled into her. They tumbled in a heap on the driveway, andit took Kitty a moment to get over the shock and scramble to her feet. The other woman did the same, brushing herself off, the scowl firmly in place. She was beautiful, and Kitty felt woefully inadequate. While they shared tight corkscrew curls, the other woman had somehow tamed her raven locks enough that they framed her delicate features and gave her an understated elegance. Kitty’s, on the other hand, had turned to frizz in the heat.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ said Kitty, brushing grit off her knees.
‘Are you Nick’s girlfriend?’ demanded the woman, placing her hands on her hips.
‘What? No, um, I only met him last night.’
‘And you didn’t wake up in his bed?’ The woman shook her head. ‘You’re a stronger woman than I am. Either that or he’s losing his touch.’
Before Kitty could make sense of this outburst, Nick appeared in the doorway. His face was pale and stressed. A sheen of sweat on his skin suggested he might throw up at any moment.
‘Oh, hi, Katy, isn’t it?’
‘Kitty.’
‘Right, yeah, Kitty. Sorry, now’s not a good time.’
