‘You choose,’ he says.
I pressPLAYand frown at the weather outside the window. It’s tipping it down.
‘I might make a cheese toastie,’ I say. ‘Do you want one?’
‘I’d love one,’ he replies, seeming pleased as he puts another spoonful of something green and disgusting-looking into his daughter’s mouth. He nods at my speaker. ‘What’s this?’
‘?“Hold Tight!” by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich.’
‘Who?’
‘Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich,’ I repeat. ‘Try saying that when you’re drunk.’
April starts to bounce in her highchair, wiggling her bum from side to side.
‘Look at her, she likes it,’ Charlie says with a smile.
‘You should get a radio in here.’
‘I should,’ he agrees. ‘I haven’t really listened to music since Nicki died,’ he adds in a quieter voice.
April is still wiggling in her highchair. She looks so cute, I can’t help but smile, even though she has green gunk all around her mouth.
‘Can you chuck me the baby wipes?’ Charlie asks me.
All too gladly...I go and get them from the sofa and pass them to him. A moment later, he lifts his daughter out of her highchair and puts her on the floor. She pushes herself up next to him, her hands on his knees, and bounces along to the music while grinning like a proper nutjob.
‘Downtown’ by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis comes on next. I can’t help but dance along while I’m making our toasties, rapping along to the occasional line.
After a moment, I realise that both Charlie and April are watching me with identical grins on their faces. I laugh at the sight of them – they look so alike – and then the chorus kicks in and I justhaveto sing.
April holds her hands out to me and lets out a cry, so, on impulse, I go and get her, swinging her into my arms and jigging around the kitchen with her.
Charlie leans back in his chair and chuckles at us.
‘She likes me,’ I say, gleefully, handing his daughter back to him after a bit.
‘She likes everyone,’ he replies fondly, sitting her on his lap.
Nowthat’sannoying.
‘You don’t have to be a dick about it,’ I joke crossly.
He grins up at me.
‘Can’t you just let me wallow in her obvious adulation for me?’ I continue. ‘Babies don’t usually like me. This is a big thing.’
‘What do you mean, babies don’t usually like you?’ he scoffs.
‘They don’t. I usually make them cry.’
‘What do you do, pinch them?’
I laugh. ‘Nah, I think they can just tell I’m not a baby person.’
He frowns. ‘How are you not a baby person?’
‘Stop distracting me. I need to get on with lunch.’
