Bound By Their Babies

‘Mr Stratton? I’m sorry to interrupt but Mr Walker’s in the Park Café and he needs you there straight away.’

Jake opened the door and frowned at the receptionist.

‘So why do I need to go? I’m in the middle of an antenatal clinic—’

She beckoned him out of the room and lowered her voice. ‘He’s with your little girl. Her mother’s disappeared.’

‘Disappeared?’

She shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’

‘Right. Can you find my registrar, please, and ask her to take over? I need to sort this out. And tell him I’m on my way.’

His mind whirling, he apologised hastily to his patient and sprinted down the corridor to the café. He couldn’t see anything at first, but he could hear Matilda crying hysterically, and he pushed his way through a crowd of onlookers and found Ben crouched down trying to soothe her in the buggy.

‘It’s OK, Tilly, I’m here,’ he said. ‘It’s all right, darling, you’re OK. Come to Daddy.’ He undid the straps and scooped her up into his arms, her little body racked with sobs as he sat down on the nearest chair and rocked her against his shoulder.

‘Dad-dy,’ she hiccupped, burrowing into his shoulder, and he rocked and hushed her while he tried to make sense of it.

Ben sat down beside him, and he looked at him in confusion. ‘I don’t understand. Where’s Jo, and why is Matilda even here?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ben said softly. ‘Jo said she recognised my name from my badge. She told me who she was, said she’d forgotten to put a ticket on the car and could I watch Matilda for a minute, and she hasn’t come back.’

‘When was that?’ he asked, but Ben just shrugged.

‘Fifteen minutes ago? She kissed her goodbye which I didn’t really think anything of, but she looked a bit upset for some reason and when she didn’t come back I started to wonder, and then I noticed this sticking out of the buggy so I rang the clinic.’

Ben was holding out an envelope and he stared at it blankly. ‘What is it?’

‘I have no idea. It’s addressed to you.’

He took it, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, flicked it open and scanned the words in disbelief, then read it again, just to be sure.

I’m sorry to do this to you, but I can’t look after Matilda any more. It’s not that I don’t love her, I do, and I’m sorry it didn’t work between us, but I’ve met someone I really want to be with, and we’re going travelling. I’ve always wanted to do that, and I know it seems selfish, but I have to do this for me, and I know she’ll be better off with you than she would with me.

She loves you to bits, and I know how much you love her, and you can give her a better life than I’ll ever be able to. I’d like to keep in touch with her and see her when I can, but please don’t try and contact me to talk me out of it. I know you would, that’s why I couldn’t tell you to your face, but I know this is the right thing for everyone, and I’m really sorry about all the money.

Love her for me.

J

Nothing else, except a key in the envelope. Ben held it out silently, and he frowned. The key to her house? Of course. With all Tilly’s stuff in it. No doubt she’d left already—and what was that about all the money? All what money?

‘This is crazy. She can’t just walk out on Matilda. I’ll call her.’ He pulled out his phone, rang her number and got no answer. Great. He looked back at Ben.

‘I can’t get her. She’s not picking up.’

‘Do you want me to call Security in case something’s happened to her?’ Ben asked, but Jake shook his head, realising the futility of it as it started to sink in.

‘No point. She’s gone, Ben. She’s left us.’ He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s tangled, sweaty hair, his love for her overwhelming him. ‘It’s just you and me, Tils,’ he murmured, ‘but that’s OK, I’ll look after you. Daddy loves you. We’ll be OK.’ He kissed her again, and she burrowed tighter into him, her little legs tucked up against his side, arms tight around his neck.

‘You need to go home,’ Ben said softly.

‘How? I’m in the middle of a clinic, and it’s only Monday. What about the rest of the week? I can’t just walk out.’

‘Don’t worry about work, someone’ll do your clinic today and we’ll sort the rota out. Your daughter needs to come first. And I’ll get Security to locate and copy all the CCTV images of Jo from the time she arrived to the time she left. Just in case you need them for any reason in the future.’

He nodded, the implications of Jo’s actions beginning to sink in as anger took the place of shock. If she loved Matilda, as she’d said she did, then how could she just dump her like that, without talking to him first?

Because she knew he would have tried to talk her out of it. She’d been right about that. Right about him taking care of her, too, but how? How could he? He had a full-time job, with irregular hours and huge responsibilities. He couldn’t just drop everything. It wasn’t fair on his colleagues or his patients. And in any case, he had a mortgage to pay—assuming she hadn’t totally emptied his bank accounts and put him into overdraft right at the beginning of the month. Was that what she’d meant? Panic swamped him for a moment, but he fought it down.

At least Matilda was all right, but what if she hadn’t been? Jo had only left her with Ben because she’d recognised his name. If he hadn’t been there, would she still have left her? Anything could have happened to her. Someone could have taken her—

He felt a wave of nausea and swallowed hard. ‘Thank God you were here, Ben, but what if you hadn’t been? What if someone had taken her?’ he said, but Ben just shook his head.

‘Don’t go there, Jake. Just take her home,’ he said softly, so Jake took the key from him and put it on his keyring, then made a quick detour to pick up his things from his office before heading off to sort out the chaos his life had just become.

* * *

The following morning he went to her house, but it was empty apart from the landlord’s furniture and a small pile of Matilda’s things—her clothes, her toys and books, a few birthday cards and half a packet of nappies all stacked in the hall. Oh, and the landlord, who was delighted to see him.

‘She owes me two months’ rent,’ the man said bluntly. ‘I told her yesterday morning I’d call today to collect it, but she’s gone. That’s all that’s left, those things there of the little tot’s. I’m just waiting for a locksmith. Apparently she was seen leaving yesterday afternoon with the child and a man in a battered old campervan, and the neighbours said he’s been around a lot recently.’

Well, that fitted with what she’d said in her letter. Great. So not only had Jo dumped Matilda without warning, which was quite bad enough, she’d also defaulted on her rent—even though he paid her more than enough every month to cover that and her living expenses. And that was on top of her emptying his savings account yesterday morning—

‘So who are you, then?’ the landlord asked.

‘I’m Matilda’s father. I’m just here to get her stuff and I’m as much in the dark about where Jo is as you are.’

He folded his arms. ‘Well, someone’s got to pay the rent. I’ll let you off one month because I’ve got the deposit and there doesn’t seem to be any damage, but I want the rest.’

‘That’s fine, I’ll pay it,’ he said heavily. Frankly, a month’s rent was the least of his worries. Her ‘sorry about all the money’ had made him check his accounts last night and find she’d stripped his savings account—not that there had been much in it, but there was nothing now. She must have got his bank details from his phone when he’d seen her last week on Tilly’s birthday. That would teach him not to be so trusting.

Teach him a lot of things, but on the plus side she hadn’t emptied his current account which meant he had enough—just—to pay the landlord and get through the rest of the month. He should probably be thankful for small mercies, but he didn’t feel thankful. She’d no doubt sold the car as well. Well, he’d have to pay the outstanding rent, but that was it. He certainly wasn’t funding her travelling—or at least any more of it than he already inadvertently had, and he’d had to change all his passwords last night which was a real pain.

He put Matilda down and got out his phone to transfer the money to the landlord, and she toddled off, calling for her mother and looking puzzled.

‘Where Mummy?’

He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked her up again. ‘She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s had to go away so you’re going to come and live with me all the time now, and I’m not going anywhere,’ he said softly, propping her on the worktop while he dealt with the landlord, then he threw all the things Jo had left for Matilda into the bags he’d brought with him, scooped his daughter up again and walked out, seething with anger, disappointment, regret—a whole catalogue of conflicting emotions that had already kept him awake half the night.

Now all he had to do was talk to HR and work out how he was going to juggle his job and childcare commitments, but first he needed a friendly ear—and a shoulder to cry on?

No point in crying over spilt milk, even if it felt like Jo had dumped an entire dairy on his head. But the friendly ear he could definitely do with.

* * *

Emily was trying to stop Zach spreading banana everywhere when her phone rang for the second time in quick succession. She nearly didn’t answer it, but Zach had finished eating now, so she wiped her fingers and pulled the phone out of her pocket.

‘Jake, give me a second. I’m covered in banana.’

There was a muffled laugh from the other end, and she turned on the speaker and grabbed the wet wipe that Zach was stuffing in his mouth. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You have no idea how far he can spread it. So, how goes it?’

Another laugh, this time wry. ‘Not great. Look, I’m not far from you. Can I drop in and scrounge a coffee?’

‘Yeah, sure. Jake, are you OK?’

‘Not really. I’ll tell you in a minute. Stick the kettle on.’

‘Will do. Grab some milk, please? I’m almost out.’

‘OK. See you shortly.’

The phone went dead, and she stared at it, then shrugged and handed Zach a toy to play with while she cleared up the sitting room and worried about Jake.

He’d sounded odd. Sort of taut, like he was about to snap, which was so unlike him. He was always so easy-going, so relaxed and unfazed by anything. Chewing her lip, she plumped the cushions, scooped up the washing she’d been sorting, dumped it back in the basket and went back to tackle the kitchen.

She’d just finished loading the dishwasher when she heard him pull up, and she opened the front door as he got out of the car with a shopping bag in his hand. ‘That was quick,’ she began, but then she saw his expression and the words dried up in her throat.

He looked awful.

His face was a mask, the tension coming off him in waves, and she pulled him inside, put her arms around him and hugged him hard.

‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked softly, and she felt the sigh shudder through him.

‘Jo’s dumped Matilda with me—well, strictly speaking she left her in the hospital café—and she’s walked out of her life.’

Emily felt her jaw drop and she let him go and took a step back so she could read his eyes, and saw confusion and white-hot rage. ‘She what? How? Why?’

His shoulders jerked in a shrug. ‘Who knows? She’s gone travelling, of all things. She left me a note in the buggy apologising. She’s got a new man, apparently, and the landlord said they were picked up by some dude with a battered old campervan, so presumably that’s him. God knows what she’s done with the car I bought her. Sold it to fund the travelling, I expect, and she also owed rent that I had to pay, and cleaned out my savings account.’

‘That’s outrageous!’

‘Tell me about it, but that’s not what’s making me so mad. Don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m not thrilled, but it’s only money. It’s the fact that she just abandoned Matilda in the café that makes me so furious. Thank goodness Ben Walker was there. Apparently she saw his name badge and realised who he was, so she introduced herself and asked him to keep an eye on Tilly while she put a ticket on the car, and then she didn’t come back. What if he hadn’t been there, Em? Was she just going to rely on someone finding the envelope before something dreadful happened to her? What if she’d been abducted?’

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m so angry I don’t know where to start, but she said she couldn’t tell me because I’d talk her out of it and she knew this was the best thing for everyone. I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t take Matilda with her—oh, and the icing on the cake is she wants to keep in touch. Well, we’ll see about that,’ he added furiously, finally grinding to a halt.

‘Oh, Jake,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry. How is Matilda? Is she all right?’

Another shrug. ‘I suppose. A bit unsettled but she’s used to being with me so she’s not too bad—yet. How she’ll be down the line I have no idea. We’ve just come from the house and she was wandering round asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’

‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’

‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’

‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’

* * *

She took the coffee through to the sitting room where Jake was perched on the sofa staring at the floor, Matilda at his feet building a tower with stacking cups while Zach watched her intently.

‘Hey,’ she said softly, and Jake looked up and met her eyes, his own filled with a worry that he wasn’t even trying to disguise. At least the anger was gone, for now at least, but he just looked desperate and she wanted to hug him. She perched next to him and handed him his coffee and one of the gooey chocolate cookies instead.

‘That’s my second.’

‘Who’s counting? So, what are you going to do?’ she asked, keeping her voice to a low murmur, and he shrugged helplessly.

‘I don’t know. I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do. I’m on carer’s leave at the moment but that’s just crisis management and it can only be for a maximum of ten days, besides which we’re short-staffed as it is, and I don’t want to use the nursery. It seems wrong, when she’s just been abandoned by her mother. What if she thought I’d abandoned her, too? What if she hates it? And anyway, I work crazy hours. She’d practically have to live there, and what about nights when I’m on call? The only way round it is to find a full-time nanny, and they don’t grow on trees, and what the hell do I do in the meantime?’

‘I’ll come and stay,’ she said without a second thought, and it shocked him into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head, the hope that she’d seen in his troubled eyes replaced by despair.

‘No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.’

‘You’re not, I’m volunteering, and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me since Pete died, not to mention the rest of the last twenty years. It’ll get you out of a fix in the short term, give you time to think.’

‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve done nothing but think since yesterday afternoon. There isn’t an answer, Em, and this certainly isn’t it.’

‘No, not long term, of course it isn’t, but I’m still on maternity leave until the middle of June, I’m not doing anything else and how much harder can it be to look after two babies than one?’ she asked, lifting Zach up before he lunged at the plastic cups Matilda had carefully stacked and knocked them all down.

‘Matilda’s not a baby. She can be—’

‘A two-year-old?’ she asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed despairingly.

‘Yes. Exactly. And there are the practicalities, like I haven’t got a cot any longer because she’s in a bed.’

‘I’ve got a travel cot for Zach, and we can buy a double buggy from somewhere if we need to, so I can take them out. It’s not an issue, Jake, and it’s not as if we haven’t lived together before. We’re both house-trained. I’m sure we’ll survive. And you can get your life back on track and stop worrying about letting everyone down while you work out what to do next.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. I want to. Please, let me help you.’

He held her eyes for the longest moment, then let out a defeated sigh and nodded. ‘OK. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end I wouldn’t let you do this, but if you’re really sure, it would be amazing. So—when are we talking about? Next week?’

She laughed. ‘I was thinking today? My fridge is all but empty, and it seems like a good time to do it.’

His mouth twitched into what could have been a smile. ‘I have to tell you my fridge isn’t a lot better, but I can soon fix that. I’ll take Matilda shopping and make the bed, and I’ll see you later, if you’re really sure?’

‘That again?’ She laughed, and he gave another crooked grin and hugged her with his free arm.

‘I love you, Em, you’re a star,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re such a good friend. I don’t know how to thank you.’

Her heart hitched. ‘You don’t need to grovel,’ she said lightly, but she wanted to curl up and cry, because he’d been amazing to her—more than a friend, really, more of a rock in her life, the only constant for the last twenty years, and especially since Pete’s terminal diagnosis.

He did love her, she knew that, and she loved him, too. He was the best friend anyone could have and she’d do anything to help him, but she realised this would help her, too, because it meant she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts from the moment Zach went down for the night to the moment he woke in the morning, and she was so sick of being alone...

‘You head on back, then, and I’ll pack our stuff and see you later—about five? Then I can give Zach supper before his bedtime so I don’t mess up his routine.’

‘Five’s fine. What does he eat?’

She laughed, her mood suddenly lighter for some reason. ‘I have no idea. It changes from minute to minute. I’ll bring stuff for him, I’ve got baby food and formula. It’s the only thing I have got. And you know me. I eat anything.’

* * *

She was early, of course.

He’d been expecting that. Em was always early. Always had been, unlike him, although he had a golden rule of never being late. Just on time.

So although he’d been shopping and made the bed, the house was still a bit chaotic because he’d brought in Matilda’s things and dumped them in the hall and they hadn’t got any further. On the plus side, he’d borrowed a double buggy and another high chair from Daisy Walker, his clinical lead’s wife, but on the downside they were in the hall as well.

She’d dropped them round on her way to pick up the older children from school, and she’d even given him a lesson in how to fold the buggy, most of which had gone clean over his head. He just hoped Emily could work it out, because he was damned if he could.

He moved it out of the way so she didn’t trip over it, opened the front door and was handed a baby.

‘Here, can you take him, I’ll empty the car,’ she said, and was only halfway down the path when Matilda tugged his jeans and frowned up at him.

‘Baby down,’ she said crossly. ‘My daddy.’

He crouched down with a soft, coaxing laugh. ‘Of course I’m your daddy, Tilly. I’m just holding Zach for Emily. Say hello to him.’

‘No.’ She turned her back on him, folded her arms and tilted her head. ‘I not.’

He stifled the smile and stood up, just as Emily came back with an armful of bags and the travel cot.

‘What’s up with her?’ she asked softly, and he rolled his eyes.

‘My daddy,’ he mouthed, and she bit her lip and shook her head.

‘Oops. Oh, well, she’ll get over it. And so will he,’ she said, taking Zach before he fell out of Jake’s arms leaning over trying to reach her.

‘Why don’t I empty the car?’ he suggested drily, and headed out of the door, leaving Matilda standing in the hall with Emily.

‘Daddy!’ she wailed, running after him, and he turned and caught her as she tripped on the step, lifting her up into his arms and holding her close as she sobbed against his neck.

His gut wrenched. ‘Hey, little one, I was only getting Emily’s things from the car,’ he said gently, stroking her hair. ‘Do you want to help me?’

She hiccupped and nodded, and he handed her a teddy that was falling out of the top of a bag, picked up the bag and Emily’s suitcase in his other hand and went back inside.

Em greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged. ‘As you said, they’ll get over it.’

He just hoped she was right, because right then none of them had a choice.

* * *

He came down from settling Matilda in bed and sorting out the travel cot to find Emily ensconced on the sofa, feeding Zach.

‘You’re still breastfeeding,’ he said gruffly, stating the obvious and floundering to a halt, the sudden wash of conflicting emotions taking him totally by surprise.

She looked up and smiled, her face tender and mellow in the light from the lamp, and his heart turned over. ‘He’s still only a baby. He isn’t ten months yet, and he’s going to be my only child, so I might as well carry on as long as he wants to. It’s only morning and evening, and it means so much to both of us.’

‘Hell, Em, you don’t have to justify it to me, I’m heartily in favour of you doing what nature intended, but you’d talked about formula milk so I was just surprised,’ he said lightly, trying to ignore his crazy reaction.

Since when had breastfeeding been erotic?

‘I’m going to put our food on. Cup of tea while it cooks?’

‘Please—decaf if you’ve got it?’

‘Of course. I have enough trouble sleeping without chucking caffeine into the mix.’

‘Do you need a hand?’

‘No, you’re all right. You stay there with Zach.’

He headed for the kitchen, trying to work out what was going on in his head. He knew what was going on in his body, and it was entirely inappropriate and out of order.

Didn’t stop it, though.

He turned on the oven, put the kettle on, braced his hands on the edge of the worktop and let his head drop.

He did not need this—this sudden and unexpected and unwelcome complication to a situation that was already complicated beyond belief. She was a widow, a vulnerable woman with a young child, putting herself out to help him. The last thing—absolutely the last thing—she needed was him turning weird on her. Protective he could cope with. Lust—no. Absolutely not.

He thrust himself away from the worktop, put the supermarket ready meal into the oven, then prepped the veg.

Not that opening a tray of pre-prepared sugar snap peas, baby corn and tenderstem broccoli took much prepping, but anything rather than go back in there while she was still feeding Zach. And that in itself was ridiculous. He spent his life surrounded by women in various stages of undress, was thoroughly familiar with their most intimate anatomy, saw new mothers breastfeeding on a daily basis. So why was he reacting like this now, and why with Emily, of all people in the world?

And there was no way—no way!—he was letting himself answer that question! It was a whole other can of worms, and he needed to get a grip. He wasn’t an adolescent exploring and exploiting his emerging sexuality, he was an adult, more than twice the age he’d been when he’d first met Emily. Surely to goodness he’d developed a little self-control and discretion in all that time?

Not to mention common decency.

With a low growl, he pulled two mugs from the cupboard, made the tea and went back in, studiously avoiding looking anywhere near her chest. Not that he could see anything, anyway. She was being incredibly discreet and she’d obviously got it down to a fine art—