He turned and saw her. “Is everything okay?” He frowned. “I walked him off the premises and I made it clear we didn’t want to see him on the property again. I think he got the message.”
“Let’s hope so.”
He glanced back at the family, his eyes on the youngest. “How is Alexandra doing?”
She noticed the shift in his tone. “I left her with Abby in my office. She didn’t look too good, so I thought I’d give them space.”
He nodded. “Let me know if they need anything.”
That was it? That was all he was going to say?
She hovered, feeling awkward, unsure how best to ask the questions she wanted to ask. She should probably walk away but she couldn’t. She needed to know.
He watched as the family cycled away, the youngest gaining confidence as she got used to the bike. “There she goes. She’s got it.” He smiled as the wobbling stopped and the little girl’s feet worked harder on the pedals. “That child reminds me of you at the same age.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d been having the same thoughts. “Are you getting nostalgic on me?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Talking of the past, I have questions.”
She expected him to ask her what questions or at least give her some sort of prompt, but he said nothing. Instead he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the family cycling away from them.
Never before in her life had she felt there was something she couldn’t ask him, but she felt it now. As if she was stepping somewhere she shouldn’t be stepping.
“Dad?”
“We’re at work, Evie.”
“I know, but—” Yes, she should probably wait, but she couldn’t. Not after what she’d seen. Part of her knew she shouldn’t be asking, but another part of her had to. “You know her, don’t you?”
“Know who?”
“The boss. Alexandra.”
He didn’t respond. The family rounded the corner and headed the cycle path that wound its way cross-country and then down to the coast. Another couple of minutes and finally they were out of sight.
Only then did he turn to look at her.
“What makes you think I know her?”
“Oh, come on, Dad! I was there. I saw the two of you. You have oil on your fingers, by the way.”
“I had to fix the chain.” He pulled a cloth from his pocket and scrubbed at the oil on his fingers. “What do you think you saw?”
She thought about that look. That single burning look that had lasted less than a couple of seconds but communicated a depth of emotion and intimacy that had made her catch her breath. She’d felt as if she was watching something she shouldn’t be watching. As if she was somehow intruding. “I saw the way you looked at each other. I’m not imagining it, but if you don’t want to tell me then I’ll respect that. But—” She sighed. “I’m being selfish, I know, making this about me. What about you? I assume you weren’t expecting to see her?”
He scrubbed at a stubborn oil stain. “No,” he said finally. “I wasn’t.”
He was shaken, she could see that now. And she was shaken too, because this was her dad and she’d naïvely thought she knew everything there was to know about him. She’d thoughtthey had no secrets (although now she thought about it she was keeping a fair few herself). And now she was seeing him differently. Not as her dad, but as a man with a past and a life lived. A past full of details of which she knew nothing. A man with his own life and his own secrets.
“I didn’t know you knew her. You never said anything.”
She stepped closer and touched his arm, conscious that although there was no one close by, they were still in public, still at work.
And it wasn’t only intimacy she’d seen, it was protectiveness. Of course her dad was a born protector, but this was something different.
“You care about her.”
