A couple of weeks of solid feeding and good care and that sweet angel would be right as rain. Joyce hoped.
She shook her head. There was nothing to be worried about. The child was fine. Maybe Ruthie hadn’t had the most attentive mother, and Kyle, bless him, what did he know about taking care of a baby? He’d done his best, no doubt, but she was in good hands now.
Many good hands. Joyce smiled. Babies were brilliant, weren’t they? Such amazing little marvels. And the way the tops of their heads smelled after a bath.
She closed her eyes, remembering that scent from Ruthie earlier. Just the best.
A horn sounded, two short taps.
Joyce jumped and ran to the window. A long black limo was pulling down the drive. She shrieked and ran down the steps, not bothering with the lift, although they’d definitely take the lift back up. Beryl would be well impressed with that.
She went outside as the limo parked. The driver hopped out and opened the rear door, giving Beryl a hand.
Beryl gasped as she took in the house and surroundings. “Do you really live here?”
“I do.” She pulled Beryl into a hug and they both cried as they laughed and embraced. “It’s so good to see you, Berry.”
“You, too, Joycie. I can’t believe I’m really here.”
“How was the flight? Everything go all right?”
“Just marvelous.” Beryl tipped her head at the chauffeur. “Then this one shows up with a placard with my name on it at the luggage collection. I almost died. Can you imagine?”
Joyce laughed. “Mitch thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“I can’t wait to meet him. You know, I’ve been watching that show of his on Netflix. It’s a little violent at times but, oh, it’s something. All those vampires and whatnot.” Her brows rose and her lips pursed.
“He doesn’t have any control over what happens on that show, you know. It’s based on his books, but they take some liberties.”
“Is that right? Shame.”
The chauffeur, who’d gotten Beryl’s luggage from the trunk, cleared his throat softly. “Sorry to interrupt ladies. Where would you like the bags?”
“Oh, we’ll take them up in the lift,” Joyce said.
Beryl’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. “You have a lift?”
Joyce grinned. “I don’t think there’s a house or guest house in Hideaway Bay that doesn’t.”
Beryl tutted. “So posh.”
The chauffeur took hold of the three bags. “I’m happy to load them onto the elevator for you. Just show me the way.”
“Come on, then,” Joyce said. Would he expect a tip? Probably. Everyone did these days, didn’t they? She had a tenner in her purse. She hoped that would do. She’d have to run upstairs to get it.
She directed him to the lift and held her hand across the door to keep it from closing. He got the bags into the car, then backed away. “I hope you enjoy your visit, Mrs. Furling.”
“Thank you, Jim. You’re a lovely driver.”
Joyce held her position so Beryl could get on. “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll be right back down with something for your troubles.”
Jim smiled. “No tipping required, ma’am. It’s already been taken care of.”
“Is that so?” Joyce shook her head. “That man is too much. Well, thank you all the same. You have a good night, now.”
“You, too.” He touched his hat and went back to the car.
She took her hand off the door and joined Beryl in the lift. The door whooshed closed. Impulsively, she hugged Beryl again. “It is so good to have you here.”
