lived-and his obvious wealth didn’t make getting to know the man any easier. They had even less in common than she’d thought.
He was a lawyer and a magistrate and he was wealthy. He was a man alone… A man completely out of her ken. She watched in silence as Nick handed payment to the taxi driver-and then frowned as he demurred at the change.
‘No. The lady’s fare is on me.’
‘Nick, you don’t need to…’ she started, but he allowed no protest.
‘It’ll make me feel better to make sure you’re safely home.’
Or…safely away from you, Shanni thought bleakly as the taxi did a U-turn and drove away from man and child. Leaving you to your precious independence.
But…why on earth did the thought make her feel so bleak?
It wasn’t only Shanni who was questioning feelings. Nick might have his independence-sort of-but independence wasn’t something that sat well with three-year-olds.
He showed Harry into the spare room. Harry looked at the enormous bed and his eyes stayed blank in a look Nick was starting to know. It was his withdrawal look.
‘It’s a great big bed,’ Nick said cheerfully. He’d fitted his spare room with a double bed because most of his friends were partnered-spasmodically. ‘You can sleep in the middle and wiggle all you want.
‘Where do you sleep?’ Harry asked in a subdued little voice that told Nick he was in even more trouble than he’d thought.
‘Next door. Want to see?’
He did, so Nick led the way, opened the bedroom door and heard Harry gasp.
‘Do you sleep in that bed all by yourself?’
‘Yep.’ Well, most of the time, anyway, and he wasn’t going into that with a three-year-old.
‘It’s…it’s
‘It is.’ Nick smiled and led the little boy forward. ‘It’s called a king-sized bed. Actually,’ he admitted, ‘it’s two beds. It’s so big I couldn’t get it up the stairs in one piece, so I brought two single beds and joined them together. See?’ He lifted the covers, Harry dropped down on the plush pile carpet and inspected eight legs.
‘It
‘I…I like room to wiggle.’
‘If we pulled them apart then we could have a little bed each in the same room,’ Harry said wistfully-and waited. His eyes were still blank-as if he was afraid to hope.
That hadn’t been in the plan. Sleep in the same room as Harry!
But Harry was looking at him with dreadful eyes-eyes that told him the thought of sleeping in a huge bed in a bedroom all by himself held nothing but terror. Oh, great… Big choice here!
So… ‘I guess we can,’ Nick agreed faintly, and watched the blank look fade.
‘You’d like that,’ Harry told him, and his eyes dared Nick to agree. ‘We could talk in bed.’
‘So we could.’ He hadn’t thought of that, either.
‘Wendy says I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. Do you go to bed at eight o’clock?’
There was nothing for it. Nick nodded with all due solemnity. ‘Not usually,’ he said truthfully. ‘But this weekend I just might.’
He did. In the end it was easier, because Harry couldn’t settle. He lay and stared at the ceiling while Nick read him a story, and when Nick finished reading his eyes were just as firmly open as when he’d started. When Nick tried to leave the room he said nothing-just stayed staring up at the ceiling with a fixed expression of stoicism.
He’d been here before, the expression said. Strange place. Strange people. Strange shadows.
Familiar fear…
And Nick, who remembered the feeling as if it were yesterday, couldn’t bear it.
‘I
‘That’d be okay,’ Harry said, still stoical. He was so careful not to let his eagerness show, in case this wonderful offer should be snatched away again.
So Nick slid between the covers of his now single bed and stared at the ceiling himself in the half-light-for heaven’s sake, at eight it was hardly dark.
And, while Harry drifted firmly into sleep, Nick wondered what Shanni was doing.
And wondered and wondered and wondered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
COFFEE and cakes in Acland Street was an institution. The street had been the cake centre of Melbourne for generations, each shop vying to supply the most mouth-watering cakes and each shopfront more wonderful than the last.
Nick and Harry wandered hand in hand for half an hour as Harry checked every cake. Nick was content to do as Harry wished. Two weeks ago cake-choosing would have bored him silly, but he’d come a long way in two weeks. To give Harry pleasure was pleasure enough, and his mind had things to dwell on.
Finally Harry made his choice-sponge cake topped with meringue, strawberries and chocolate. And he wanted a rather strange-sounding lemonade and lime drink too-a lime spider! Nick gave his approval-this place had great coffee too-and they settled on a table outside on the pavement like long-term friends,
‘I like this place,’ Harry said in a very muffled voice. His mouth was full of cake. He took a sip of his lime spider and thought about it, then paused and his face clouded. ‘I don’t think my daddy brought me here.’ He stared down at his cake and his voice fell away. ‘I can’t even remember if he liked cakes.’
‘He loved cakes.’
And here she was! Nick spun around to see Shanni bearing down from behind. She was dressed in a lovely light linen dress, her hair was flying free and she was laden with shopping-she must have a dozen carrier bags!
‘Hi, boys.’ She beamed her pleasure at finding them, dumped her bags in a huge pile and plonked herself onto a spare seat. ‘Phew. Harry, your daddy was the biggest cake-eater in Bay Beach. When the local school had its fete he was first in the queue for the cake stall, and, by the look of that cake you take right after him. What a great choice. Can I have one, too?’
She kicked off her sandals, sighed with relief and beamed again at the pair of them. ‘Aren’t I clever to find you? We didn’t even make a definite time or a place.’
‘Very clever,’ Nick said dryly-there was no hint in his voice of the lurch of pleasure he’d felt at the sight of her- and Shanni’s beam broadened.
‘You might at least sound pleased to see me. Harry, are you pleased to see me?’
‘Yes,’ Harry said definitely. ‘I am. Nick’s bed’s too big. We had to chop it in half.’
‘I see.’ Her perplexed forehead said she didn’t see at all but she was game to try. ‘So…tell me all. You chopped Nick’s bed in half. With an axe?’
‘No, silly.’ Harry giggled and Shanni’s eyes met Nick’s. There was a message clearly written-congratulations! Her smile was almost patronising, Nick thought, but he felt his chest expand a notch. His world had lightened just a little.
Or maybe a lot. He hadn’t wanted to see her-but now she was here…
‘Shanni, we think we might be bored now,’ Harry was confiding. ‘After our cake we don’t know what to do. Nick says we might visit a lawyer he knows who has a baby.’
‘Do you want to do that?’ Shanni asked.
Harry buried his nose in lime spider. ‘No,’ he whispered, avoiding Nick’s eyes.
Shanni smiled again. Goodness! A Harry ready to assert himself. This was something indeed. ‘I see.’ Her eyes flew to Nick’s, gently mocking. ‘Time for a rethink, then, Your Worship.’
‘I’ll figure it out.’ He signalled for more coffee-he needed it!-and cake and spider for Shanni, and when he turned back Harry and Shanni were deep in her parcels. Harry was peering into one parcel after the other, his whole
