Picnics in Hyde Park

‘Well, that’s good, and as long as I’m not in trouble—’

‘Don’t speak too soon,’ he replied. ‘What exactly are you trying to prove with that?’ Pointing at her jacket.

‘Nothing,’ she hitched her chin up, doing her best to pretend she wasn’t incredibly hot and wanted nothing more than to rip the stupid suit off. ‘You said I wouldn’t fit in, that I needed to dress the part so as not to embarrass the children. So I got changed into something smarter, like you said.’

He shook his head, looking impatient. ‘Not a suit! And I told you it wasn’t about embarrassing us. Now go and change.’

She shook her head, even as sweat broke out on her face. He hadn’t even said please.

His mobile started ringing on the desk. Stalking across the office he grabbed it and pressed the end-call button. ‘Shit! I’ve got that meeting soon. Sadie, please come back, all is forgiven.’ He cast both eyes up at the ceiling and joined his hands together in mock prayer. ‘I’m not sure how much more of this I can cope with,’ he said to Zoe. ‘I’m so used to Sadie organising me. I don’t know whether I’m coming and going, and all I want to do is get back into the studio. I just hope she recovers soon and that the hamper I sent helps…But anyway,’ walking back over to Zoe, he threw her a hard look, ‘I’m sorry, but I haven’t got time for this. We both know you’re being a little ridiculous. Please go and change.’

‘I’m fine.’ He was right, but she’d look silly backing down just like that and she didn’t like being bossed around. It made her wonder if this is what he’d been like with Melody the day he threw her out. Her fingers curled into her palms. She couldn’t forget what a bastard he’d been to her sister, even if he did seem to have some redeeming qualities, like wanting to be a good person for his children, and being nice to sick staff and having a sense of humour. Stop it. ‘Really,’ she insisted, ‘I’m fine.’

‘But you won’t be, with the predicted temperature today. I can’t believe you’re serious. You’ll bake if you leave the house.’ He glanced down at his watch, swore and moved away from her to start grabbing things off his desk, throwing his iPad, notepad and a sheaf of paperwork into a messenger bag before looping it across his chest.

‘It’s not that hot,’ she answered.

‘It will be,’ he shot back, stalking back over to her. ‘Come on,’ he stepped closer, eyes narrowing. ‘Look how overheated you got at our interview; ready to fall over from standing on the doorstep too long. You’ll make yourself ill, and then where will my kids be? Take it off.’ Reaching out, he curled a big hand around the jacket collar and tugged her closer.

She froze, smelling his aftershave, far too close to his broad, muscular chest, her body flashing with heat, but not because of the weather this time. She mustn’t sway towards him. Couldn’t ask him to put his fingers down inside her collar, to run them over the tops of her boobs, to—

‘Is this wool?’ he asked in disbelief, testing the material between two fingers.

‘Er—’ she pulled a face. ‘It might be.’

‘It’s the middle of summer. You’re completely insane,’ he joked. ‘Right, that’s it. Take it off. I don’t want to get done at tribunal for not ensuring the health and well-being of my employees.’

‘No!’ She might have given in at that point but quite apart from sticking to her guns, there was a really good reason she didn’t want to remove the jacket in front of him.

‘Yes!’ he insisted. To her shock, he started unbuttoning it, and she wrestled with him, trying to bat him away.

‘Matt, don’t!’ Oh shit, she thought fleetingly. ‘I said don—’

Unfortunately the jacket only had four buttons, his fingers made mega-quick work of them and she stepped back at the same time as he undid the last one.

The jacket flew open, revealing her pale, round breasts encased in a red lacy bra.

‘Bloody hell!’ His breath whooshed out, eyes all but popping out of his head as he took in her cleavage. ‘You’re not wearing a top!’

‘Thank you Captain Obvious, I didn’t know that,’ she muttered, yanking the jacket back together, doing it up with fumbling fingers, face burning as he spun around to give her some privacy. This was so embarrassing, and would probably forever be known as either jacket-gate or bra-gate. Why it had to happen in front of Matt of all people, she didn’t know. It was just her luck. ‘Sorry,’ she thought of how her sarcastic Captain Obvious comment must have sounded, ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’

‘That’s fine. I’m sorry too. I-I just meant…Bloody hell,’ he repeated. ‘Why?’

‘It is too hot,’ she grimaced. Now the outfit choice looked really stupid. ‘And I didn’t think it would matter that I had nothing on underneath. You can turn around now,’ she said. When he obeyed, it was like he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her, fixing his eyes on a spot on the wall over her left shoulder. She gazed up at him, seeing the nonplussed expression on his face. For some reason her mouth quirked up on one side. They must have looked like complete idiots during their little struggle, her trying to keep the jacket on, him trying to get her out of it. ‘I wasn’t planning on taking the jacket off,’ she explained, ‘and I didn’t foresee a madman coming along and trying to wrestle me out of it,’ she finished drily.

‘No,’ he conceded, dropping his eyes to her face, ‘I don’t suppose you did.’ For a moment he looked solemn, but then his mouth curved, a spark of warmth in his eyes.

Their gazes connected. There was a silence.

‘It was like a comedy sketch or something,’ he choked out. ‘Your face! I’ve never seen anyone look so panicked!’

She couldn’t help it, grinning back. ‘Well, you can understand why now.’ She gave into laughter, holding her side. ‘We must have looked pretty ridiculous. I mean, imagine if the kids had seen us,’ she snorted.

‘They’d think that we’ve lost it,’ he agreed, laughing. ‘Not a great example to set for them.’

Oh, bugger. The kids. She’d forgotten all about them. It’d never happened to her before. In her other jobs she hadn’t ever neglected her professional responsibilities. ‘Oh, God, they’re alone in the kitchen. I should go.’

‘Yes,’ Matt crossed back to his desk, looking puzzled, ‘me too. That’s right, I have work to do, a meeting to go to.’ He rammed his phone into his jeans pocket, hunting around in the mess of music sheets and other random items. ‘Keys… keys. Argh…bloody things.’

Zoe stood by the door, watching as he cast various papers and a spare tablet around. ‘Um, Matt.’

‘Hmmm?’ He picked up an expandable file, shook it, put it back down. Picked up a mug of all things, as if the keys would be hiding in it or under it somehow.

‘Don’t you put your car keys in the bowl by the door?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘The bowl,’ his head came up and he glanced over at her, face clearing. ‘Yeah, you’re right, I always do. I can’t think why I forgot—’ his green eyes flickered over her chest. ‘I’ve got to go,’ he blurted, racing past her out of the office. ‘See you this evening. Bye kids.’ She heard him yell, followed by the slam of the door and the quiet purr of the Prius rapidly fading into the distance.

Shaking her head at his odd departure, Zoe walked into the kitchen to find Jasper standing by the fridge, face covered in strawberry jam, slices of bread, utensils and bowls littering the floor and work surfaces.

‘I got hungry,’ Jasper explained woefully, staring up at her with an expression on his face that said please don’t tell me off.

Aimee was completely oblivious, head stuck in a thick book of fairytales with line drawings on the cover.

‘That’s okay,’ ruffling Jasper’s hair, Zoe lead him over to the sink and started wiping his hands and face with a damp cloth, ‘it was my fault. I took too long with your dad.’ She blushed as she thought of all the things they could have done if they’d had more time. If when he’d opened her jacket he’d sunk to his knees and buried his face in her cleavage and—

No. Remember why you’re here.

There was no doubt about it, Matt was hot, but her sister came first, she wasn’t letting her down again. Plus, no good came of getting involved on the rebound. ‘Next time come and get me, okay?’ she asked the little boy, shaking her head as she found a clump of red jam in the hair behind his ear. ‘When you want jam, remember it’s supposed to go on something, Jasper. Like toast. Not the floor, or yourself,’ she smiled.

‘Yes, Zoe,’ he nodded.

‘Great. Now how about giving me a hand clearing up this mess?’ Stooping over, she picked up a bowl and two spoons.

‘Do I have to?’ he whined. ‘Melody wouldn’t have made me.’

She loved her sister, but had she been half asleep on the job or something? At seven and nearly five, these children were old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, and to be clearing up after themselves. Just because their dad was super-rich and super-successful, it didn’t mean they couldn’t learn some traditional values and personal responsibility. She must ask Matt about it, and talk to Mel too.

‘It would be great if you could,’ she said to Jasper casually. ‘But if you’re worried I can pick up more things faster than you…’

‘No, you can’t!’

‘Can!’ Wiggling her eyebrows.

‘Can’t.’ He giggled, racing over to grab a couple of forks off the side and bring them to her.

‘Good boy,’ she nodded approvingly scooping up slices of bread, and randomly, a bottle opener. They were definitely not being left alone in the kitchen again, until they were better trained. ‘Everything that’s been on the floor will need to go in a pile in the sink so I can wash them up.’

‘Ok-ay,’ Jasper sang cheerfully, clattering a mixing bowl and wooden spoon into the sink, along with a broken egg.

God only knew what he’d been trying to make.

‘So, what would you like for breakfast kids? And where do you want to go today? Aimee’s choice remember, because she got ready the quickest. Aimee?’

At the sound of her name, the girl’s head jerked up, wearing the same look of fierce concentration as her dad when he was immersed in something. It was sweet.

‘What do you want for breakfast? And where would you like me to take the two of you?’

Aimee bit her lip, squinting. ‘Pancakes please. And…’ she paused, started to say something then seemed to change her mind, ‘um, the library?’ she finished instead.

Jasper let out a little groan behind her. ‘The library? Bo-ring.’

‘It’s Aimee’s decision, Jasper,’ she said firmly, while wondering how the heck she was going to keep him occupied in such a quiet, contained environment. ‘Come on, books are fun. We’ll find some good ones for you too, okay? I’m sure there’s a nice children’s corner,’ praying wholeheartedly it was true. ‘Aimee,’ she asked hesitantly, ‘how would you feel about going to the park on the way home? Just for ten minutes or so? The nearest one is Hyde Park, right?’

Aimee nodded, then shook her head. ‘I don’t want to. Maybe another day.’

‘Are you sure? I thought it was a nice one, though I’ve never been. It’s not far at all, and it’s lovely and sunny today.’

But the girl shook her head resolutely with her lower lip sticking out and returned her attention to her book.

Ordinarily Zoe would go over to her, ask what was going on, but Jasper was tugging at her jacket insistently and it was obvious Aimee wasn’t ready to open up. There was no point in pressing too hard; it had taken two visits and as many days to get Aimee to even speak to her in half sentences.

‘No problem,’ she said matter-of-factly, ‘we can always find some games to play in the back garden.’ She turned to Jasper, seeing Aimee pull a relieved face from the corner of her eye. ‘So Mister, pancakes?’

‘Yay! Pancakes! Pancakes!’ Jasper started jumping up and down.

‘Okay. If you calm down you can help me make them.’ He really was a bundle of energy.

‘Yay!’ He bounded over to her, grabbing hold of her hand. ‘Super cool! I want you to stay, Zoe.’

Aww, bless. ‘That’s lovely Jasper. Because I’m letting you help me make pancakes?’

‘Because you’re nice,’ he decided solemnly.

‘Oh. Thank you.’ She gulped, his remark both warming and worrying her. They were good kids at heart, they just needed boundaries and the right kind of attention-slash-authority. But what she hadn’t thought through properly when embarking on Plan Nannygate was that the kids might get attached to her.

‘What about you, Aimee?’ she asked gently. ‘Are you happy with me being here?’

The girl looked up with a distracted air, and nodded once.

‘Do you think I’m nice too?’

‘Uh-huh.’ She focused back on her book, turning the page. Zoe thought she was done, but just as she went to turn away Aimee spoke again. ‘You got Daddy to hug us. It’s been forever.’

Zoe bit the inside of her cheek, insanely sad for the kids. The plan was for revenge, but while she was here, there was no harm in trying to make things better for them as a family, for the good of the children. Was there?

6

It was a harried trip to graceful Mayfair library, during which Jasper caused near mayhem. Running around the ends of stacks, he pulled books off shelves and talked in the loudest voice possible despite stern glances from a staff member. Zoe used every behaviour management tool she could think of, along with repeated shushing, but eventually had to take him for a time-out, letting Aimee know she’d be out front for a few minutes.

They sat on the stone steps of the entrance while Jasper calmed down, his Ben 10 baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, feet tapping on the pavement. She relaxed in the balmy sunlight, reading a leaflet picked up from the foyer about the weddings they performed in one of the two ceremony rooms. From the pictures, the venue looked romantic and intimate. Zoe could think of few nicer places to get married; surrounded by books in a nineteenth century building with the beautiful Mount Street Gardens next door, perfect for taking photos.

It was a far cry from the wedding she and Greg had planned at the St. Regis on Manhattan Island, which was as glamorously luxurious as it was hideously expensive. Greg had made his money on the stock markets and was more than happy showing his wealth off. She had insisted on contributing to the cost of the wedding but wondered now how comfortable she would have been on her own wedding day in such rich surroundings, when at heart she was an orphan from the British seaside. She also wondered how comfortable she would have been moving in with him permanently, subject to his world twenty-four-seven. Still, if they’d loved each other enough then it wouldn’t have mattered. They’d have made it work.

Shrugging the thought off, she reminded Jasper of the need to behave and lead him inside by the hand with a firm grip. In sharp contrast to her brother, Aimee was in heaven in the library. Walking purposefully between shelves, she ran her fingers along scripted spines and stroked glossy covers. When she stuffed her rucksack full with the maximum amount of books she could borrow, checked in by a librarian who knew her by name, Zoe was surprised to see a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird go in. It was advanced reading for a girl her age.

As they walked home along wide Park Lane which guarded the eastern boundary of lovely Hyde Park—Zoe looking longingly at the green spaces and trees she could see across the road—down to Hyde Park Corner and along Knightsbridge, Aimee walked with her nose stuck in the Harper Lee classic. Zoe was tempted to tell her not to, especially with how busy the streets were with teeming crowds of tourists snapping away with cameras, shoppers swinging branded bags filled with new summer wardrobes and countless black cabs zipping past. It would be hypocritical though. She’d read books in the street right into her teens, skilfully learning to step around lamp posts and avoid people, and still recalled the guilty pleasure of every possible stolen reading moment. Heck, if she could get away with it now, she would. So she held Jasper’s hand and settled for placing a guiding hand on Aimee’s shoulder as the girl traipsed along.

When they got home, Aimee shut herself away in her room without a word and Zoe decided to leave her to it. She could hardly complain that one of her two new charges loved reading and was happiest when expanding her mind and vocabulary. In that way, she was a dream. On the other hand, she could do with learning a few more social skills. It wouldn’t do her good being too insular.

For a few hours Zoe and Jasper painted and coloured-in while sitting up on stools at the kitchen units, newspapers spread out to protect the expensive marble, aprons on to protect their clothes. Zoe opened the window to let in some fresh air, and turned the radio on so that pop music created a white noise in the background. Occasionally the buzz of a lawn mower drifted in, punctuated by a child’s laugh or call. There must be other kids in the neighbourhood, and Zoe wondered if Jasper or Aimee were friends with any of them.

Just before noon the beeping of horns and high-pitched two-note tone of a siren sounded, getting ever closer. Jasper jumped at the noise, arm freezing in place, paintbrush clutched in his sturdy fingers. Somewhere above their heads, a thud sounded.

‘Everything all right?’ Zoe frowned at the ceiling, and put a hand on Jasper’s back.

Turning his head, he stared at her with solemn green eyes. ‘Don’t like sirens,’ he answered in a tight voice, trembles rippling through him. ‘Mummy went when sirens came.’

‘Oh.’ There were some residual memories of the accident then, even though he’d been so young. ‘Well, there’s nothing to be worried about now, okay? We’re here, your sister is upstairs with her book, and your dad is safely at work. Besides, ambulances go to help people, right? They nee-naw like that to move cars out the way so they can get to people in trouble as quickly as possible. Everything is okay,’ she soothed, stroking his back until the sirens faded away. ‘See? They’ve gone.’

With a nod, he dipped his brush in the blue paint and started outlining swirling clouds. Zoe gazed down at his ruffled hair, marvelling at how freely he’d shared his fears with her, so soon after she’d arrived in his life. Still, that was kids for you, especially younger ones. They were open books. They barely had filters at this age and blurted out pretty much everything they thought.

‘Stay there for a minute, all right? Just keep painting. I need to check on your sister.’ Thinking of the thudding noise. Racing upstairs, she knocked on Aimee’s door, pushing it open gently when there was no reply. ‘Everything good up here?’ she asked, hoping Jasper didn’t get into too much mischief while she was gone. She stared at Aimee’s downturned head, nose only a few inches from the page. ‘I thought I heard something hit the deck,’ Zoe said, ‘was it in here?’ There was no answer, just a slight tightening of the little girl’s pink lips. ‘Oh well, I must have imagined it then,’ she added lightly, ‘never mind. I’ll leave you to it. Lunch is in a bit, by the way.’ Aimee’s gaze flickered upwards and she nodded once, but Zoe could see that her eyes were suspiciously bright. Maybe Jasper wasn’t the only one affected by sirens. ‘If you need anything, we’re in the kitchen.’ She backed out of the room, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. When she was ready to talk about it, she would.

Zoe wandered down the spiral stairs, hand clutching the curved white rail. She could still remember the horror she’d felt when Mel had told her over Skype, brown eyes tear-filled, that both children had been in the car crash that killed their mum. Mel had only arrived with the family a few days before, and Matt had been battling along without help for three months before hiring a nanny. It had been a difficult time for all of them and Zoe knew that her sister, who could be emotionally fragile at times, had found it hard to deal with their grief. Slowly however, she knew things had gotten better. Or thought they had.

When she sloped back into the kitchen, heart weighed down with the sad thoughts, Zoe halted, mouth opening. ‘Jasper,’ she breathed, fighting not to laugh, ‘what did you do?’

Grinning proudly, he pointed to his face, which was painted a bright shade of blue, save for a crooked, naked stripe down the middle over his nose. ‘I’m Braveheart. It’s one of daddy’s favourite films. He won’t let me watch it but ‘Ncle Stephen lets me sneak peeks sometimes. This is what they do when they fight.’

‘It is.’ Shaking her head, she tried to be serious but sniggered instead. He looked so earnest, and more like a haphazard smurf than a warrior. The fact he’d managed to miss his hair was a minor miracle. ‘But that kind of paint is for paper, not for faces,’ she pointed out. ‘If you want to do this again, please let me know and we’ll buy some proper face paints.’ Reaching for her phone from one of the shelves, she held it out in front of her. ‘Can I take a picture?’

‘Yep! To show Daddy!’

‘That’s a great idea,’ she said, deftly pressing two buttons and taking a selection of photos. ‘We won’t tell him you didn’t ask permission, but I’ll send him a picture if you promise that next time you will.’

He nodded decisively, blue dripping off his chin and plunking onto his plastic red apron. ‘Deal.’

Grinning, she sent Matt a picture via WhatsApp, with the caption Your son has the same movie tastes as you. ‘Right, done.’ A reply wasn’t necessarily something she expected, but a minute later a smiley face icon and Lol, that’s my boy comment pinged her mobile. Smiling, she tucked her phone away and dampened some kitchen roll, standing Jasper at the sink to wash his face off.

After cleaning him up, they made fresh bread for lunch. At the end of the bread-making session, Jasper had managed to get little white-flour finger marks over himself, Zoe and most surfaces in the kitchen. With a chuckle Zoe wiped the sides down and they got the kitchen roll back out, turning the radio up and bopping around while they got clean again, before setting up a picnic in the garden. This time Jasper helped her without complaint.

When Zoe called Aimee for lunch, it took a full ten minutes to coax her from her bedroom at the same time as trying to keep an eye on Jasper, who was banging something about in his jam-packed room across the hall.

‘Aimee,’ she resorted to quiet authority after nice requests and cajoling had failed, ‘you can’t starve, and I’ll be more than happy to discuss your favourite books with you or let you carry on reading after lunch, but if you don’t come downstairs and eat with us before all the food gets swarmed by ants, I’m going to have to withdraw a privilege.’ The girl looked at her with wide eyes, waiting to see what she’d do. Zoe knew it was a test. So she let out a big sigh, shaking her head sorrowfully. ‘I would really, really hate to have to take one of your books away, because I understand how much you love them. I’m a big reader too,’ she confessed. ‘There’s nothing better than getting lost in another world and making new friends. But you have to live in the real world sometimes, okay?’ Throwing the door open wider, gesturing to the staircase. ‘Come on. You can have a quick bite then sit in the shade and read some more, or you can have a longer lunch and we can talk books while your brother plays on his swing set. The choice is yours.’

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