His voice rises in protest. ‘What the hell happened to St Aidan’s obsession with equal opps?’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘Hen parties, childbirth and men’s five-a-side football are exempt.’ I’m making it up but it sounds good to me. ‘Just put on a pink stripy pinny, don’t say anything and they’ll be having too much fun to notice you.’
Nell’s come along with the team today, and Sophie is here too, but as a guest with Maisie, so she’s only meant to help out if we’re stuck. Having said that, she’s busy setting up my icing table next door while Maisie plays and I make buttercream.
We’ve been trying to fit in as many fundraiser evenings as we can while I’m still here, and we’ve done so many lately it’s a miracle they’ve always come through with the helping-out. There’s still lots of people wanting to see the donut making, and there’s huge demand for brownie and blondie nights. And with my own self-imposed book deadline coming up I’ve finally finished all the test bakes and I’m adding the final touches to the chapter introductions. But I’ve still had to find time to squeeze in extra baking, because with the bake boxes it’s the old saying: make it while you can. I know I’m sharing any profits with the Kittiwake Court fund, but it’s good to get a bit ahead myself so I’ve got some leeway when I get back to London. I’d always assumed I’d pick up where I left off when it was time to go back, but unless things look up pretty fast on my blog traffic I’ll have to find a new way of bringing in the cash all over again.
Ross grins. ‘It’s fine, I’m used to being surrounded by women at the surgery. I’ll stick to my grey pinstripe pinny.’
I laugh. ‘Or you could lose your T-shirt, add a bow tie and rock the topless waiter vibe?’
His voice rises. ‘This isn’tThe Full Monty, Bertie,there are children here!’
As I go back to spooning the last of the buttercream into piping bags I can’t help smiling at how real his horror is. ‘They’re toddlers and babies, they’d react more if you turned up in a lion suit than a diamanté thong.’ As I shake my head to get rid of that image I’m also wondering why he’s so clueless. ‘How much experience do you have with kids?’
He pulls a face. ‘Plenty with goats. Human ones, not so much. My sister hasn’t got any, and most of my friends are late taking the plunge.’
‘Remarkable.’ With so many of my own sisters’ tinies around, it’s easy to forget there are people like Ross who don’t have contact with under-fives. ‘Judging by the screams from next door, this afternoon should put that right for you.’
His eyebrows close together as he goes serious again. ‘What’s going on exactly? I only caught the bit about bathing the baby.’
‘How about you forget all about baths, and we’ll go from there.’ I take a deep breath, and hope he can keep up. ‘Amelia is the one with the baby bump and the two-year-old who’s emptying the crisp bowls out onto the tribal rugs.’ I check that his eyes are still bright to be sure he’s keeping up. ‘Amelia is having a party where friends “shower” her with gifts for the baby she’s expecting next month, but because it’s her second she needs less stuff, so it’s called a sprinkle.’
‘Right.’
I must have lost him with the last sentence. Due to his mystified expression I may need to expand here. ‘So guests buy her little things like baby socks rather than big ones like Bugaboo pushchairs.’
His frown has deepened. ‘So remind me where the water comes in?’
If I was doubtful about bringing Ross in case it was awkward between us, I needn’t have been. He’s so tied up with the mechanics, it’s totally removed the focus from us on a more personal level.
I grin. ‘No water involved at all, but thereisa complication. People who want to know the sex of their baby usually find out around twenty weeks, and then they have a gender reveal party, with a big announcement and a special, colour-coded cake, prepared secretly in advance.’
‘This issoinvolved!’
From the way he’s shaking his head in total disbelief I take it he’s with me this far. ‘But Amelia only found out the sex of her baby by accident at her thirty-six-week scan last week, so for a bit of fun, she’s going to let people guess the sex today at her sprinkle party.’ I take a breath. ‘And that’s where I come in. First I’m doing flower piping for the party entertainment. And after that each person is going to ice their own cupcake in whichever colour they think is right for Amelia’s baby.’
Sophie comes in on the tail-end of the conversation. ‘So, pink for a girl, blue for a boy. Surely you know aboutthat, Ross?’ She eases Maisie off her hip and pushes her towards him. ‘Do me a favour and hang onto this one for me for a second until I finish next door – she’s doing her best one-woman-demolition-team impersonation out there. If she gets her hands on the icing bags it’ll be all over.’
Ross’s eyes go huge as Sophie turns to leave, and as he freezes I jump forward and catch Maisie sliding downwards somewhere around his knee level. ‘Hey, what’s the matter? She’s not going to burn you!’
He sniffs. ‘All the same, I’ll leave the kiddie stuff to you experts. I’m strictly here for clear-up duties. There must be some tidying I can do?’
‘You’re too efficient for your own good. Right now, we’re all washed up.’
Nell’s smiling as she comes through waving another empty bottle. ‘Don’t think you’re hiding in the kitchenallafternoon, Ross. Amelia’s adamant, helpers are invited to join in the party too.’
Ross blinks and looks doubtful. ‘Are you sure? I haven’t brought any tiny socks.’
Nell shakes her head. ‘Amelia won’t mind, and at least you’ll know for next time.’
I take it from his rabbit-caught-in-the headlight look that he won’t be queuing for that, and spin Maisie round so she’s propped on my thigh facing him and take a deep breath. ‘Okay, Ross, there’s nothing to be frightened of. Imagine Maisie is a puppy. Or a cat.’ I remember him the night Pancake was ill, how capable his hands were, even though they’re broken. How his grasp was firm, yet at the same time so very tender. Maisie’s many kilos heavier, but he’ll get the idea. ‘Just cradle her bum in your elbow and wrap your other arm around her. Forget she’s a scary human, and just hold on tight.’ I’m slowly transferring Maisie’s body across the gap and onto his forearm, and Maisie, sensing what’s needed, is being like an uncharacteristically angelic version of herself. ‘There you go, you’ve got all her weight now. It’s not so bad, is it?’
Ross swallows hard and pushes away a bit of prawn cracker that’s fallen out of Maisie’s hair and stuck in the stubble on his chin. ‘If you say so.’
And then Maisie, as if sensing she’s safe at last, turns and grabs a handful of his curls. Then as she wriggles sideways Ross finally reacts and tightens his hold to the kind he uses on escaping sheep. ‘Not so fast, you little worm. If you pull my hair I may have to turn you upside-down.’ He turns to me. ‘Will that be okay?’
I nod. ‘So long as you’re ready for squeals.’
