Chapter Fifteen
‘You don’t mind taking him again, do you?’
Actually, I sort of did mind, but before I could voice my objection, the eight-month-old baby was thrust back into my arms again.
‘We just want one last quick peek at the bedroom,’ the woman explained as her partner began pulling a tape measure from his pocket.
‘Hello again,’ I said to the infant, who was looking at me suspiciously as his parents disappeared back inside the house I was showing them. If I was bad at talking to seven-year-olds, then my chat with those not yet able to speak had to be heard to be believed.
The clients were clearly the most laid-back parents ever.
They appeared to have absolutely no qualms about passing their baby into the arms of someone who was patently not qualified for childminding.
They’d done it the first time when I’d been showing them the bathroom with its double-size shower enclosure.
‘Could you hold him for a sec?’ the husband had asked, unclipping the infant from the carrier on his chest and passing him to me.
‘We’d just like to check out the shower.
’ For a worrying moment, as they’d both kicked off their shoes, I’d thought they were about to strip off and give it a test run.
Thankfully they’d stepped into the enclosure still fully clothed.
The viewing continued to be a contender for one of my weirdest ever, when they’d once again passed me their baby as they both insisted on scaling the loft ladder to examine the attic for possible conversion.
I’d waited in the hallway below, bouncing the infant – whose name I believe was George – on my hip, because that’s how I’d seen it done in films. It didn’t feel exactly natural, and George certainly wasn’t shy in making his feelings known about being left with a total amateur in the baby-rearing department.
‘I bet Mel would know how to do this,’ I muttered as the little boy began to cry, growing redder and redder in the face until it looked like I was holding a human beetroot instead of a tiny person.
He looked hot, thirsty, and incredibly angry, and yet despite the fact his indignant wails were now filling the street, his parents didn’t seem to be in any hurry to reappear.
‘Come on, George. They’ll be out soon,’ I told the distraught infant, feeling terrible when I saw there were genuine tears rolling down his overheated chubby cheeks.
‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you want,’ I apologised, my eyes going once again to the bedroom window of the property, which George’s parents probably weren’t even going to buy anyway. ‘Two more minutes,’ I promised him. ‘If they’re not out by then, we’re going in to get them. Okay?’
It was mid-afternoon on another uncommonly hot day, and the shade on the pavement was practically non-existent.
A tall fern in the front garden afforded a narrow pocket of shadow, which I manoeuvred us both into.
The quiet residential street was deserted, or so I thought until I heard the rhythmic slap of rubber on concrete when George paused to take a breath.
I peered out from beneath the leafy fronds and spotted a man in shorts and sports vest who’d emerged at speed from a side street.
‘Hush, hush,’ I urged George, not wanting the stranger to think I was kidnapping the baby, or totally inept at calming him. The first was unlikely, the second was undeniably true.
I heard the steady tempo of the runner’s feet as they approached, and focused my attention on George, blowing raspberries into his face, which for some reason made him bawl even harder.
I saw a pair of expensive running shoes jog past me and then come to a stop. I rearranged my features into those of someone who doesn’t look like they haven’t got a clue what they’re doing.
‘That’s not a happy face.’
I wasn’t sure if the stranger meant George or me. To be honest, it could have been either of us. But mine changed almost instantly when I recognised the man standing before me, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
‘Rhys, hi,’ I said, my voice sounding equal parts delighted and embarrassed. ‘This is a weird coincidence.’
‘Isn’t it? And it’s one that keeps happening to us.’
He smiled and his eyes dropped to the screaming baby in my arms.
‘And this is . . . ?’
‘This is George. He hates me.’
Rhys chuckled softly and gave the baby the kind of smile that was guaranteed to make anyone stop crying. It almost succeeded, as George peered up at the tall man who’d joined us on the pavement.
‘I’ve been showing the house behind us to his parents, and they’ve gone back in for one last quick look and left me – quite literally – holding the baby.’
Rhys reached out a finger and gently touched the tip of George’s nose, making a soft beeping sound as he did. The crying stopped like a switch had been flipped. Rhys repeated the action and George, who I’d started to think might be possessed by the devil, actually giggled.
I looked at Rhys in total awe. ‘How did you do that?’
He gave an easy shrug. ‘It always used to work with Tasha. I thought it was worth a try.’
‘You’re a genius.’
‘No. You just pick up a few tricks along the way,’ he said.
‘Well, thank you.’ I shot a look over my shoulder at the open front door of the house. There was still no sign of George’s parents.
‘Are you in a hurry to be somewhere?’ I asked.
‘Do you ask that because I was running?’ he teased.
I felt my cheeks turn every bit as scarlet as George’s had done.
‘Sorry,’ Rhys said, smiling at the baby when he reached out a pudgy hand and grabbed hold of Rhys’s finger. Something inside me, something that I didn’t even know lived there, melted.
‘It’s just that George seems to like you, and I wondered if you could hang about for a minute or two until his parents get out.’
‘Of course I can,’ he said, and I liked the way he hadn’t hesitated for a single second.
One of Rhys’s hands was still being firmly held by George, but with his free one Rhys reached for a water bottle.
‘I’ve not drunk from it yet,’ he said, offering me the container. Despite my raging thirst, I was about to decline when he added. ‘You look a little hot and bothered.’
That was perhaps more to do with him than George.
There was a sheen of perspiration that glistened on his arms and broad shoulders like a sprinkling of fool’s gold.
His running vest, with its university logo, was sticking to him like a second skin that I very much wanted to peel away.
I was suddenly incredibly glad my arms were full of baby.
‘Ahh, Georgie, have you been a good boy for Ellie?’ crooned a voice from behind me.
I summoned a smile for my charge’s mother. It grew when she plucked her offspring from me. George looked far more distressed at losing his hold on Rhys’s finger than he did at leaving me.
‘This is Rhys. He’s a friend of mine,’ I explained as George’s dad slammed shut the door of the house they’d been viewing.
‘We really like the place,’ he said. ‘We just need to go home and do our sums and then we’ll get back to you.’
I nodded slowly, making sure the smile on my face didn’t slip.
The couple didn’t quite manage to hide their relief when I politely declined their offer of a lift back into town, even though we’d all travelled to the property together.
As they fastened a newly calm and chirpy George into his car seat and drove away, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that that would be the last time I ever saw them.
‘They’re not going to buy the house?’ Rhys asked, as though I’d just displayed psychic abilities.
I shook my head.
‘How do you know that?’ he asked, clearly fascinated.
I gave a small shrug. ‘You just get a feeling for how these things are going when you’ve done this job for a while.
I used to think it was all about TikTok engagement and selling the best house in a street at the highest price, but actually it’s more about matching the right property to the right person.
That’s the bit I now realise I like best.’
‘Perhaps you’re just particularly insightful?’ Rhys suggested as he lifted the loose hem of his running vest and absently used it as a makeshift towel to wipe his face, which was still streaked with perspiration from his run.
I lost my train of thought and then all ability to think straight as the action briefly exposed the taut flat planes of his stomach.
I saw exactly what he’d meant about the marks left by the lightning.
The curious fern-like patterns, the Lichtenberg figures, that had almost faded from his arm were still clearly visible on one side of his torso, running across his chest in a diagonal swathe that bleached into thin tendrils before disappearing beneath the waistband of his running shorts.
‘I’m sorry,’ Rhys apologised. ‘I don’t think I’m the most fragrant of company right now.’
He smelled just fine to me.
‘Are you heading back to town on foot?’ he asked, his head tilted to one side with a look that was pure adorable Labrador. The decision I’d made to get an Uber back was suddenly the last thing on my mind.
‘Yes, I am,’ I said, conveniently forgetting that I actually had no idea of the route back.
‘Well, if I promise to stay downwind of you, do you fancy some company?’
My entire day just got exponentially better.
‘I won’t have to run, will I?’ I joked.
His smile was on maximum wattage. ‘No. You can set the pace,’ he said.
Sadly, the speed at which we walked was probably the only thing in my control as far as Rhys was concerned, because everything else felt like it was totally out of my hands.
We walked in companionable silence as the sun shifted lower in the sky, throwing some much-needed slices of shade onto the pavements and pathways. I didn’t know the streets he was taking me down, but I felt nothing but safe in his company. I always did.
We eventually emerged at a crossroads. There was a sprawling business park on one side of the road, a post office delivery depot on the other, and several utilitarian apartment blocks right in front of us.