Chapter 17
17
Harper stepped into St. Margaret’s the following Monday to a cacophony of song and squeals echoing through the church. It was as lovely inside as it was out, with stained glass windows casting colourful prisms across the pews and the children’s artwork scattered on the walls.
She followed the unsynchronised chorus of “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round” towards an oak door, where a laminated sheet of paper was fixed, reading Community Room and Playgroup in jazzy WordArt.
She stopped in front of it and took a deep breath. Was this strange? She wasn’t part of the community. She didn’t have a child. She was only beginning to get to know Fraser, let alone his sisters…
But she’d been invited. Fraser had promised Eiley that she’d be here after talking her into it between slurps of their Pot Noodles yesterday.
So she would be.
She opened the door and stepped inside, barely noticed by the circle of parents, children, and volunteers singing nursery rhymes. Halloween garlands with paper pumpkins and ghosts were draped on every wall, fake cobwebs shrouding every corner in preparation for the coming weekend. A toddler wearing galaxy-patterned ear defenders and a T-shirt reading “Boo!” waddled over to her, a rusk biscuit melting to goo in each fist.
“Hello,” Harper knelt down to greet them. The kid was adorable, with wide blue eyes and fine, strawberry blonde hair down to their shoulders. They smiled widely at Harper, displaying two gapped front teeth.
“Sky!” called a soft, familiar voice. Giggling, Eiley tiptoed between toys and children before picking up the toddler and planting kisses on his cherubic cheeks. She looked at Harper and exclaimed, “You came!”
“I did…” Harper straightened up and pouted fondly at Sky, tickling his soft tummy. He looked just like his mum, fair and kind. “Hello there. You’re gorgeous!”
Sky let out a stream of giggles, then kicked to get down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was off again, seeking out a xylophone to play with.
“Wow, you’re lucky you got a smile! He doesn’t always pay attention to new faces.”
Harper’s spirits lifted. She was just glad to receive any welcome at all. “Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Of course. Thank you for coming.” Eiley tugged at the hem of her jumper nervously. “Would you like to meet my youngest?”
“Yes!” Harper said quickly. They crossed the room to a pram, where an alert baby played with a stuffed lamb. Like Sky, they had bright eyes and wisps of golden hair.
Eiley unfastened them from the seat and tucked them into her chest. “This is Saffron,” she said proudly. “Would you like to hold her?”
“Is that okay?” Harper’s voice turned frail. She really did love babies.
Eiley tucked Saffron into her arms. Harper wasn’t quite sure how to hold her. She adjusted her carefully, letting her jittery, tiny body rest on her arms.
“Oh…” Harper breathed. “She’s so precious.”
“She’s Sky’s partner in crime,” Eiley replied, smoothing Saffron’s hair down. “She’s getting big now. She’ll be one in spring.”
She smiled down at Saffron, holding her attention with silly faces and whispered words.
“She likes you,” Eiley said. “Her eyes are usually wandering all over the place, desperate to take everything in.”
“Well, I like her, too,” Harper said. “I might keep her.”
“I might let you. She keeps me up all night long. And my poor mum.”
“I bet that’s tiring. If you ever need a babysitter, I’m more than happy to steal them away. Did you say you had another?”
She nodded. “Brook is in primary school.” She waved someone over, calling, “Sorcha!”
A dark-haired, plump lady who looked not much older than Harper appeared. Her loose jumper was slightly patchy with what Harper feared was regurgitated milk from the heavy baby she burped in her arms.
“All right? You must be Harper!” Sorcha greeted, her inky eyes brimming with warmth. “My Cam’s been telling me all about you and Fraser.” She cast Harper a knowing look. “How’s her matchmaking going?”
Harper’s cheeks warmed. Better than planned , she wanted to say, but thought it wise not to mention their… casual activities in the middle of a preschool gathering.
Still, Sorcha grinned. “Ah, that well, eh?” Her accent was both thicker and huskier than Fraser’s and his family’s – Glaswegian, Harper suspected. She wore a golden nose ring that twinkled when it hit the light, and her smile was the kind that made Harper want to smile, too, all apple cheeks and crooked lines. She wondered which of them had fallen first: Cam or Sorcha. They were both easy to adore.
“It’s… erm, we’re just friends.”
“Ah, okay.” Sorcha’s nod was drenched in sarcasm, but she was kind enough to change the subject. “Either way, it’s nice to meet you. And this here is Archie.”
Archie was much bigger than Eiley’s daughter, with chubby arms and legs and bubbles blowing out of his small mouth. Like Cam, his hair was a tuft of auburn curls. It wasn’t fair to be surrounded by so many cute babies. Harper was going to melt.
“And over there” – Sorcha continued as Harper shook her hand, and then feared she might never get her index finger back when Archie’s fist curled around it – “is his big sister, Isla.”
Isla was playing with Sky, kindly passing him toys when he reached for them and showing him how to use them. She must have been one of the oldest children here, with a long black plait down her back, and calmness radiating from her cross-legged position. She was all joy, just like her mothers, and bore more of Sorcha’s dark features.
“So,” Harper asked, “how can I make myself useful?”
Eiley grinned, and beckoned. “If you’re up for some reading, we have the perfect audience for story time. Come with me.”
On his lunch break, Fraser found Eiley pacing outside St. Margaret’s. Her phone was pressed to her ear, and she murmured responses to whoever was on the other side.
Fraser had a feeling he already knew, and he didn’t like it.
She toed the overgrown grass creeping over the footpath, one arm around her middle as though she was trying to hold herself together.
He didn’t make himself known until she put the phone away, and then she turned and her shoulders sagged when she saw him waiting. Ready. Her eyes were watery. Only one person could break her resolve like that. He wanted to block Finlay’s bloody number from her phone and never let her think about the radge bastard again.
“What was it this time?” he asked quietly. “Did you tell him I have a chainsaw?”
She scoffed at that, but her bottom lip wobbled. “It’s fine. It was nothing. Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
He shrugged. “I’m on lunch. Jack and I are working at Flockhart’s today. Andy went a bit mad with their renovation ideas, so I’ll be there for a few weeks.” Even with the short notice, he was glad Andy had enrolled him. Jobs grew scarcer this time of year, even with Jack sometimes calling him in to help with carpentry jobs. “But never mind that. What did the bawbag say?”
Eiley massaged her temples wearily, looking out onto the high street. He knew that meant it was nothing good. She didn’t look at him when she didn’t want to tell him something – because she knew he’d get angrier about it than her. Where she took blow after blow, he was ready to ruin Finlay’s life for hurting his sister. It had been years since the problems had started, just after Sky was born, and he hated it. Their mum hated it. Cam hated it, though she was much better at hiding it. They could all do nothing but worry that Eiley wouldn’t be able to manage on her own with three kids forever, not when Finlay was still causing problems. Calling her drunk in the middle of the night, claiming that he wanted to see the kids and then not showing up when she allowed him. Somehow, Fraser thought it was worse than what their own dad had done. At least he hadn’t bothered to come back and keep upsetting them.
“We’ve been trying to organise a time for him to see the kids,” she said finally, gnawing on her thumbnail.
“Again,” Fraser muttered.
“He was supposed to come this afternoon, but he’s finding it hard to make time in his busy schedule to get down here.”
“Again.”
She shook her head, welling up. “Saffron barely even knows who he is.”
He pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on the crown of her head. She smelled like Mum’s house, like home, but it didn’t bring the comfort it once would. It was just another sign that she was struggling. She’d done everything she could to avoid moving back in, and constantly worried she was too much of a burden, but there’d been no other option. She couldn’t work when her kids needed her. Saffron was still so tiny. With Sky being autistic and non-verbal, he’d need all of her attention and care until they could find him a school that suited his needs. Fraser tried. So hard. But there was only so much he could do, and he hated it.
“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t care,” she whispered. “Three kids, and he barely sees them. Never thinks to give me any money towards their food and clothes.”
“If you’re struggling—”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Fraser.” She pulled away, glassy-eyed and taut with pain. “I know you like to fix things, but it isn’t your job this time.”
He wouldn’t accept that. Couldn’t. “I can give you some money, anyway. You know that. I have more coming in with Harper’s rent. And if you need me to babysit more, I’m always here.”
Eiley sighed, brushing her tousled fringe from her eyes. “I know. Thank you.”
“I’ll come round later. See if there’s anything I can do. Didn’t you say Brook’s bed is falling apart?”
She nodded glumly. “Everything’s falling apart.”
It broke his heart. Eiley had always struggled, but he’d once been able to solve every problem with a silly joke or a long, tranquil drive around the woodlands. He wished it was that easy now.
Still, he rubbed warmth into her arms and promised, “I’ll fix it.”
“You should be spending time with Harper, anyway,” Eiley said. “She’s just inside, helping out with Dot and Sorcha. The kids adore her, and so do the rest of us. So do you, I bet.”
He let out a pfft that he hoped sounded natural. “We’re just mates.”
“Didn’t say you weren’t,” she said with a sly glance, clearly seeing right through him. She always had been able to.
So, he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, instead dipping his head.
“Sky’s taken a shine to her,” she continued. “You know how long it usually takes him to warm up to people. That’s proof she has a good nature if you ask me.”
That was true. Sky didn’t like being cuddled the way Saffron and Brook did. He rarely made eye contact with any of them and was usually lost in his own little bubble. Eiley and the local support workers were doing an amazing job, and he progressed every day, but it was still difficult for him to adjust to certain people and changes. If he was comfortable with Harper, that could only be a good thing.
Or a bad one. What if he got too attached, and then one day Harper was gone?
Sky, that was. Not Fraser.
Not Fraser.
When he said nothing, she elbowed him lightly. “You’re allowed to admit you like her. It’s not like you aren’t making it obvious.”
“I do like her. Very much…” He fidgeted with his collar, a weight pressing in on him. “Too much, maybe. It’s not a good time for either of us to be getting into something, and we agreed to keep things casual.”
“ Casual .” Eiley rolled her eyes. “Finlay and I were casual once. Now we have three kids.”
“That’s different.”
“Yeah, because I fell in love with a selfish prat. You have a bonnie wee girl in there who cares about kids and family and makes everybody around her happy. Don’t be a plonker and shut down a relationship because it’s out of your comfort zone.”
He whistled, rocking on his heels. “Ouch. When did you get so blunt?”
“When I realised that my kids and I are getting walked all over.” She winced, running a palm over her tired face. “Sorry. I’m low on patience these days.”
“You’re exhausted. How about I babysit this weekend? You can have some time to decompress. Watch those sitcoms you like with Mum.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, straightening up.
“Certain. Come on. Let’s head in.” He nudged her into the church, watching her from the corner of his eye as they walked into the preschool room.
This was why he couldn’t let things get serious with Harper. People depended on him. His family depended on him.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted.