3. MATT
3
MATT
I let myself back into the house, loosening my tie as I take a moment to shed the stress of the day. I don’t like to take business meetings at the weekend, but sometimes it happens. It’s nearly 7 pm, and Mrs Minter will be heading out. I want to catch her before she leaves.
The house is quiet, but that’s no guarantee it’s empty. The playroom is on the fourth floor, so if Lucie is up there, I wouldn’t hear her. I briefly wonder if the new nanny is getting on all right and an odd burst of amusement ripples through me as I remember what she said earlier.
A voice that could deep-fry a Mars Bar .
I’m assuming she meant it as a compliment, but what kind of woman says that sort of thing to a man she’s just met? And what kind of woman has no idea she’s talking to her new employer? It’s not as if I have a low profile. I’m easy to find online with a quick search. Maybe she was serious when she said she goes off her gut, and all that she needed was to talk to Lucie to know she wanted the job. But how the fuck could she even hear her gut over all that nervous chattering she was doing?
Gut instinct, indeed. To my surprise, a low chuckle works its way up my throat. It’s absurd, but I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, because although her constant chatter was irritating, it was also somewhat endearing. What made her so nervous? Was it me? A curious flicker of satisfaction ignites at the thought, and I quickly snuff it out.
If Mrs Minter thinks Aries is right for the role, then she likely is. The woman is a fantastic judge of character, which is probably why she and Gemma, my ex-wife, never got along that well.
Something in my chest tenses at the thought of Gemma. I try not to think about her if I possibly can. Our son caught her cheating in this house, on the kitchen table no less. We have a new table now… I made sure of that. And Gemma… I try to see her as little as possible, even though she bought a house almost identical to this one just down the street. Far too close, in my opinion. But Gemma figured it would make life easy on all of us if Lucie’s experience of spending time with her parents separately was as similar as possible. Even the decor is the same. Home, but not home. It’s as though Gemma is trying to trick us all into thinking we still live in the same house.
This summer, Gemma has asked for time away from the kids. She wants to be free to take as many holidays and foreign trips as she pleases. I didn’t ask why. I don’t care. But I needed someone here permanently to care for Lucie if I’m to have her all summer.
I get that Gemma can walk away from me, but to walk away from Lucie too? That, I can’t understand. I might not be the most present father, but I love my kids more than anything in the world.
It’s only one summer, I suppose.
The click of heels on the floor draws my attention and I look up to find Mrs Minter standing before me, buttoning up her camel trench coat.
“Mr Hawkston,” she greets, and I nod. “Is there anything you need before I head home?”
“A word, actually,” I say, beckoning her to follow me to my office. I hold the door for her to pass in before me, then close it behind us. “The nanny,” I say as I walk around my desk and take a seat behind it. Mrs Minter stands to attention on the other side.
“Yes?” she says, caution evident in her tone. I’m immediately alert. Does Mrs Minter expect me to have issues with this woman already?
“She’s been fully checked out and vetted?”
“Of course. Background checks run. She has an excellent record. I spoke with her former employers. They all raved about her. Said she’s honest and trustworthy and very loving.”
Loving? “She’s not your usual hire. Not a Norland Nanny.”
Mrs Minter’s lips purse at the mention of the esteemed agency. What is she not telling me? “If you don’t like her, I can find someone else. But Lucie’s very fond of her. They’ve been playing together all afternoon. I’ve just left them doing bath time and Aries is going to put her to bed if you want to go up in half an hour to say goodnight.”
Aries . What a fucking ridiculous name. “Thank you. And you’re fully behind this hire?”
“I am. I sent you all her details. Her CV. You approved it.”
“I did?”
Mrs Minter narrows her eyes on me, but there’s a softness there too. She knows as well as I do that I’ve not been on the ball since the divorce. “You did, sir.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “All right. Thanks.”
“Will that be all?” she asks, as she fixes her last button, and I nod. “Then I’ll bid you good night and see you in the morning. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. We did a walk around the area so Aries knows where the nursery is and the routine. If there’s anything she doesn’t know, she has my number. I doubt she’ll need to disturb you at all.”
For some reason, the idea of this strange young woman not disturbing me at all doesn’t feel great, but I don’t let it show on my face. “Great. Thank you. It’s an important role, caring for Lucie. But you know that…”
Mrs Minter smiles, and her face wears such a kind expression that an odd feeling of comfort seeps through my chest. Perhaps this is what it feels like to be looked at by a mother who actually gives a flying fuck. I wouldn’t know.
“Lucie is a wonderful little girl, Mr Hawkston. And to my mind, Aries is the perfect woman to nurture her, if you can bear to give her a chance to settle in. I know she’s a bit… much.”
Much? Understatement of the century. “I think I can bear it,” I reply, my voice expressionless.
Mrs Minter smiles again and bows her head to excuse herself before she leaves the room.
I sit alone for a few moments, not wanting to rush out after her and appear too eager in my rush to see Lucie and Aries. But I’m itching to go upstairs and I last less than a minute at my desk. I rarely take the lift, preferring the exercise of the steps, and tonight I take them faster than usual.
When I reach the landing the sound of Lucie’s giggles coming from the bathroom greets me, frothy and delicate like bubbles. So fucking easy to pop. When Gemma and I were together, Lucie’s laughter died pretty quickly if she heard us fighting.
Aries’ voice, light and full of laughter, stretches along the corridor. “Oh, no, you’ve soaked me.”
I approach the bathroom door and gently tap it with my knuckle.
“Yes?”
“It’s…” I pause for a moment, wondering what to call myself.
“Daddeeeeeee!” comes Lucie’s excited squeal and I push open the door, to find her still in a bath, half-submerged beneath more bubbles than I’ve ever seen. The surface of the water is entirely obscured, and still more bubbles dangle from Lucie’s chin like a flimsy white beard.
“Ho ho ho, Daddy. I’m Father Christmas.” She scoops up more foam in her palm and holds it out to me. “Can I make you Father Christmas too?”
I glance at Aries, who’s kneeling by the bathtub, long red hair falling down her back. Her eyes are green, but not pure green—a million colours are swirling in there— Christ , I’m far too close to her if I can see that. The thought causes discomfort beneath my ribcage, but even so, I can’t stop looking because her eyes seem to glisten with happiness. I’ve never seen eyes like them.
My gaze falls to her white t-shirt, which is sopping wet and entirely transparent. She’s not wearing a bra, and her breasts are distractingly large. The impulse to reach out and cup one in each hand and brush my thumbs over the nipples assaults my mind.
I frown, averting my eyes as quickly as I can, but I’ve already taken it all in. A longing I haven’t felt for years begins to pump in my veins. Fuck, this woman is attractive.
Aries’ eyes widen and her mouth forms a small O-shape, like she noticed me noticing. A second later, water splashes her from the bath and she breaks into a beautiful smile again.
“Water stays in the bath,” she says, laughing.
“Daddy,” Lucie cries, leaning over the side with the bubbles in her cupped hands, bath water running in rivulets to the floor from her elbows. “Let me put them on you. You need a beard.”
Relenting, I kneel next to Aries, the water on the floor soaking the knees of my suit, while Lucie smears the bubbles over my chin. It strikes me that Gemma and I never did this with either of the kids… we never sat together at bath time. There’s a disconcerting rightness to being here with Aries that makes me feel as if I’ve wandered into a parallel life.
Lucie sits back, admiring her handiwork. “There we go. Now you’re like King Triton.”
“King Triton?” Aries questions. “Oh, no, look…” Aries grabs a dry flannel from the side of the bath, and before I know it, she’s wiping the bubbles from my chin. Her eyes dance with glee, until suddenly they don’t, as though she’s realised how incredibly inappropriate what she’s doing is. Her hand stills for a moment, and worry fills her expression as she raises her gaze to mine.
“What?” Lucie says.
Aries puts the flannel down on the side of the bath. “I was going to say Daddy looks much more like Prince Eric.” She smiles at Lucie. “But then again…” She tilts her head, affecting an inspection of me, more for Lucie’s benefit than mine. “He’s more like a cross between the two. Big and grumpy like Triton, but handsome like Eric. Either way…” She fixes on me now. “You have a face that looks like someone drew you.”
I’m completely at a loss with this woman. “You have no filter, do you?”
The light in her eyes dies, the width of her mouth shrinking. Her hands collapse to her lap, where she clasps them tight. I press my lips together to seal in the urge to apologise that crawls up my throat.
“What’s a filter?” Lucie says.
“It means I talk a lot of nonsense,” Aries replies, still smiling— does she ever not? —but there’s a strange sadness in her eyes that I’m sorry to see. And to think I caused it… but then, lines have already been crossed here. I’ll have to put the boundaries in place and keep them. At least she’s only here for the summer.
“Doesn’t she look like The Little Mermaid, Daddy?”
Without thinking, I let my gaze travel over Aries again, drinking her in. She might look like a Disney Princess to Lucie, but that’s not what I’m seeing. I’m seeing breasts and curves, and full lips and hair I want to wrap around my fist. A prickling heat roars to life low in my hips. The things I’d like to do to her…
Aries tilts her head to the side, and her bright eyes narrow as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. Sparks jump between us like we’re two exposed live wires, and my body begins to tingle all over.
“We watch that movie together a lot,” Lucie continues, directing herself to Aries this time, clearly getting impatient with my lack of response. “Daddy says Ariel was the first lady he fell in love with. Before he met Mummy."
Aries gets up, reaching for a towel from the heated rail. “Then Daddy has good taste,” she states, holding the towel wide while Lucie clambers out of the bath, and then wrapping her up in it.
There’s a strange tension in the room, as if something is happening between me and Aries that neither of us has agreed to, and we’re trying to pretend it’s not there. Perhaps it’s those sparks of attraction— did she feel it too? —or perhaps it’s the uncomfortable remnants of our bizarre first encounter out in the garden. I could have stopped her making a fool of herself; I should have done, but she was so beautiful, so captivating, that I was happy to listen to her babble.
I stand and plant a chaste kiss on the top of my daughter’s head. “I’ll come and give you a kiss goodnight when you’re in bed.”
Lucie’s arms snake out from under her towel and she hugs my legs, speaking into my knees. “I love you, Daddy. I love you the most in the whole world, to infinity and beyond.”
This kid is going to make my heart melt. I definitely don’t deserve this much love. I crouch so I’m at her eye-level. She stares at me with those deep brown eyes that are mirrors of my own, and I want to tell her I love her, but it feels strange to vocalise it knowing Aries is standing right there, watching us. I don’t know this woman, and having her watch me interact with my daughter feels far too intimate. But this isn’t about me or Aries, this is about Lucie, so I swallow down my hesitation and say the words. “Love you too. The most. In the whole, entire world.”
“In the whole entire universe?” she asks, her voice small but eager.
I break into a smile, and this time it’s 100% genuine, unencumbered by Aries watching. “The universe,” I repeat.
Lucie grins and I kiss her cheek, ruffle her wet hair and stand again.
I glance at Aries, who meets my gaze with no embarrassment whatsoever, which is impressive, given she was wiping my jaw with a flannel only five minutes ago, and she’s just listened to me telling my kid I love her. But then, maybe expressions of love aren’t weird for Aries the way they are for me. I don’t remember being told I was loved as kid, so it’s been tough to be natural about it with my own children. I’ve tried, though. “Have you eaten?” I ask Aries.
“Yes. I ate with Lucie. Lunch and dinner. Your chef is excellent.”
I give a slow nod, making sure to keep my eyes on her face, rather than the heavy weight of her breasts in the wet t-shirt. “If you’re not too tired, join me for a nightcap at nine. There are some things we need to discuss about your position.”
A flicker of something shadows her eyes. Worry, perhaps. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something to alleviate whatever concern she’s feeling, but I don’t. That’s not my role.
“About earlier,” she says. “I should never have made all those assumptions. All my fault. I’m sorry. I was—”
“Nervous. Yes. You said that. But seeing as you aren’t one to Google people, you might as well get to know me face-to-face. Nine o’clock. Downstairs in the dining room.”
That hint of worry never leaves her face, but she agrees to the meeting. I give Lucie another kiss and leave them to do the bedtime routine.
Evening light streams in the dining room windows, a hint of orange in the night sky. We’re approaching the longest day, and it’s still bright outside.
I’m sitting at the head of a dining table that’s far too long for one man who lives alone with his four year old daughter. It’s like a scene from Beauty and the Beast. I snort at the thought. Aries and Lucie have me comparing real-life scenarios to Disney cartoons. A pretty miserable comparison too.
The house is silent but for the tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. Eerie, but I’m so used to it I hardly notice. I push my plate away and pour myself a glass of wine. I take a sip of the deep red, feeling the tannin hit my teeth.
I let a lot of the staff go after the divorce went through. They’re still on the payroll, but I sent them with Gemma. I prefer the house this way. It does mean that I normally clear my own plate after I eat. But not always. Either way, it’s gone in the morning; I still have enough staff to make sure that’s the case.
Tonight, there’s no one in the house but me, Lucie, and the new nanny. Aries.
Who calls their child Aries? An odd hollowing sensation starts in my stomach as her name passes through my mind. Maybe not hollowing… maybe flipping .
A tentative knock at the door breaks my contemplation.
“Come in.”
Aries, in a fresh, dry t-shirt, enters. She closes the door and stands before it, her hands clasped. The stance is more formal than I expected.
“Yes, sir?”
The question hangs in the air, and something about the way her voice edges up, that soft Scottish accent folding over the sounds, sets me on edge. Or maybe it’s her use of the word ‘sir’. Either way, I’m unsettled. And when she looks like that … so casually sensual, effortlessly sexy, with the breasts and the hair and the lips and the bare fucking feet… I can’t help imagining the filthy instructions I want to give her…
I abort the thought and force my face into neutral. It’s wrong to think of the woman who’s here to care for my daughter that way.
“Take a seat,” I say, gesturing to the chair at my right hand side. There’s nothing friendly about my tone, and Aries’ usually relaxed brow creases, while her full, pink lips pull tight. The smile she so readily brandishes is absent, and I regret that I’ve frightened it away. I have to smother the urge to apologise, to put her at ease, to do something to bring it back. This is a professional relationship, and I need to keep those boundaries in place.
She doesn’t look at me as she sits. There’s a compressing sensation in my chest, as if she’s radiating some kind of force. It’s mildly alarming.
She places her phone on the table. I stare at it as I haven’t seen a model that old in years. “What’s that?” I ask.
She looks up, noticing my focus. “Oh. My phone.”
“You can’t use that.”
She runs her fingers over it but doesn’t lift it up. “It works. I use it all the time. Calls and texts. That’s all I need it to do.”
To my amazement, she appears completely serious. “What if you get lost? You’re new to London, aren’t you?”
“I am. I’m not worried about getting lost. I’ll ask someone.”
“You’ll… ask someone ?”
Those large green eyes expand, and I get the sense she’s suffering the same amazed bafflement I am, but for an entirely different reason. “Yes. And I have an A to Z upstairs. It’s small. I can take it in my handbag—”
“An A to Z?” I blurt. I haven’t seen one of the pocket street maps of London for about a decade. They became redundant when the smartphone came in. “Where did you get one of those?”
“Ebay.”
This woman is something else . “I’m ordering you a new phone.” I lift my own phone, intending to send my PA a message about it.
A small, slim-fingered hand touches my wrist. It’s so unexpected that I nearly drop my phone. I don’t know if Aries noticed my reaction, but if she did, she doesn’t comment on it.
“Please, don’t,” she says, her hand still resting on my wrist.
Why is she touching me? “Don’t?”
She shakes her head, causing locks of red hair to ripple over her shoulders. “I’m a firm believer that we’re all too sucked into our screens nowadays. I’m a better person without a smartphone, trust me. And do you know how many nannies I’ve seen who take the kids to the park and barely acknowledge them? They’re glued to their screens, watching something or reading or… something that takes them away from the children they’re meant to be caring for. Wouldn’t you rather I wasn’t distracted?”
“I’d rather you had the discipline to control yourself around a mobile phone.”
She holds my gaze, her eyebrows slowly rising. “There’s been research that people feel less connected to you if your phone is in view. You don’t even have to be using it to sever the human connection.”
Her slender fingers are still resting on my wrist and I don’t know why the fuck she isn’t moving them, or why I’m not saying anything about it. I haven’t been touched with tenderness by a woman in way too long. I’m vaguely aware of a strange fizzing sensation in my body, like my blood is carbonated.
“You were the one who put it on the table.” I sound sharp, but I’m not sure it’s about the phone.
“Sorry.”
She still hasn’t moved her hand, and the silence is charged like an electric vehicle, as if we could turn the ignition and something would race off at a million miles an hour.
“About this afternoon,” I say, and her face scrunches, her hand slipping off my wrist. “It’s important that this relationship is professional at all times. You’ll address me as Mr Hawkston, and restrain the urge to make inappropriate comments. For clarity, that means comments about my appearance. In fact, I’d urge a greater sense of discretion in general. Is that clear?”
“Crystal. No referring to my boss as Prince Eric, or King Triton or—”
“Superman.”
She holds my gaze, and her eyes appear to sparkle, her lips tight like she’s holding back a smile. Either that or she’s waiting for me to smile so she can release her own.
I don’t. I’m entirely fucking serious. If this woman is in my house, tossing all that red hair around and calling me Superman , then I’m going to be in big trouble. I pull down the cuff of my shirt to cover the area of skin where her fingertips were resting only moments ago, trying to ignore the fact I can still feel her there.
“Also, I ask that you refrain from touching me.” She inhales so sharply it’s audible. “I’m not implying anything, but I want to be explicit from the outset. This is a professional relationship. I cannot be your friend. Quite aside from the fact I don’t have time, I’m your boss. I’m not someone who can help you settle in or show you around.”
A rosy redness rushes up her throat and across her cheeks like a rising blood moon. Maybe I’ve hammered this home too hard. But it’s as much for my benefit as it is for hers.
“I’m sorry,” I add. “I wouldn’t think it necessary to have this conversation, but I don’t want our earlier interaction to set the tone for what has to be a professional relationship going forward.”
She lowers her head and nods without looking at me.
Silence falls between us like snow: thick and cold, but it doesn’t last long before Aries’ head snaps up, her eyes flashing at me as though she wants to fight. “You could have told me who you were. You let me go on, knowing you were my boss. You could have put a stop to my humiliation immediately, but you didn’t.”
I take a sip of wine, eyeing her over the rim of my glass. She’s alluring like this, all fired up. I like that she has the gumption to stick up for herself. Hopefully, she’ll do it for the kids too, should the need arise. “It was wrong of me. I apologise. But it’s rare that someone doesn’t know who I am. Your assumptions amused me.”
She stands from the table, picks up her ancient phone, and tucks it into her back pocket. “Then, Mr Hawkston, I would ask that in future, you don’t allow me to continue making mistakes purely because they amuse you. That way, we’ll both know where we stand.”
I sit straighter in my chair, a little in awe of this young woman. I give her a nod so slight it’s little more than an eye movement. She bows her head like she’s excusing herself from the presence of royalty and turns to leave.
“Wait,” I say.
“Yes?”
“Tell me how you found this role?”
“I interviewed. I told you that.”
Something’s off. “That’s not how you found it though.”
She concentrates on me. “You should make a note of this moment.” She nods, suddenly eager as if something exciting is happening. “Because you’re doing it. Gut instinct. Right now. That’s why you’re asking the same question, again. Your intuition is speaking to you.”
My skin prickles and it irks me that she’s talking about intuition like it’s some magic thing. “Gut instinct… or intuition, if that’s what you want to call it, is nothing more than fast data processing. That’s all. The subconscious mind, analysing at high-speed. It happens so quickly that we’re not aware of it.” I don’t know why I’m engaging in this shit. I drag my focus back to the matter in hand. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“Didn’t Mrs Minter tell you where she found me?”
“No.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you then.”
This is the second time today I’ve thought Mrs Minter’s keeping something from me. “You’ve started now, so you’d better tell me.”
“My mother was her father’s healer.”
I frown, replaying her statement in my mind. “What does that mean? Is your mother a doctor?”
“No. She’s an energy healer. Mrs Minter’s father was her client. She gave him weekly distance healing sessions before he died. To help him cope with the cancer treatments. Mum and Mrs Minter struck up a bit of a friendship, so when Mum said I was looking for work—”
“Hold on. Did you say ‘distance healing’?” No matter how hard I try, I cannot keep the scepticism from my tone.
“I did. She’s a reiki healer. Also sekhem.”
“I don’t even know what you just said.”
Her mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile. “Are you joking? You aren’t going to lose alpha points if you know what it is.”
“Alpha points?”
She sighs, like I’m the one who’s exasperating. She raises her palms towards me in demonstration, as though she’s beaming rays of light from them. “Energy is everywhere. We can use the power of our intention to send it across space—”
I scoff. “So your mother waved her hands around in Scotland, while Mrs Minter’s father was getting healed in South London. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Exactly,” Aries confirms, seemingly not bothered by the fact I’m struggling to keep a straight face. “And time. We can send it across time too.”
I decide to let this go. There are all sorts of people in the world, believing all sorts of crap. “You are actually a nanny, aren’t you?”
She smiles, like she wants to laugh, but is trying to keep it in check. “I have nannying experience. Yes. And I love kids. I’ve always wanted to work with them. Nothing fulfills me like seeing joy on their little faces and getting to share in that.” She breaks eye contact and inhales deeply, as though she has to prepare herself for whatever she’s about to say next. “But I needed this job for two reasons. First, the money. And second, because my mother wants me to be here.”
“Why?”
There’s a lengthy silence, during which an odd foreboding fills my stomach.
“Because she has terminal cancer and we don’t have the cash to pay for decent care so she can be comfortable at home. If I’m not there, then someone else has to be,” Aries says finally.
That’s intense . I frown, hating myself because the first thing that comes to mind is that healing definitely doesn’t work if the healer is sick. The second is that Aries delivered the information like she was reading a register. No emotion whatsoever. Maybe it’s because this is her first day and she’s not keen to expose her entire emotional range on one day. God knows she’s already revealed a lot. Or maybe it’s because it’s too painful for her to make the declaration any other way. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugs. “That’s life. What I’ll earn here this summer is enough to afford to have someone stay with her at home until...” She swallows and doesn’t finish the sentence.
I feel painfully uncomfortable now. Like I ought to be giving her more, offering to pay for her mother’s treatment. Her care. But somehow, I think Aries wouldn’t want that, so instead I say, “You wouldn’t rather be working closer to home?”
“No. She doesn’t want me to waste my life sitting at her bedside. She wants to see me spread my wings. Follow my dreams. She wants to live to see that happen. Besides, you know… my gut instinct and all that. Mum’s too. We both feel like I’m supposed to be here.” Aries looks up at the ceiling and blinks a few times, as though she’s hoping to drain tears back into the ducts before looking back at me. “And”—she manages a smile—“you pay by far the most, Mr Hawkston. It’s worth it to be here.”
I don’t know what to say. Luckily, Aries is quick to fill the hiatus. “Your little girl is a delight. I know it’s only my first day, but I enjoy her company, very much. She has a big heart. Huge. You can be proud of her.”
The comment sends a surge of positive emotion through me and I smile, but the pleasure brings with it discomfort. I don’t even know if I deserve to feel good about my kids. Am I a good father? Have I been present enough?
“Tomorrow,” I say. “I had it scheduled to spend with Lucie, but seeing as you’re new, we can all go together. Natural History Museum. You’ll want to check the weather; make sure she’s dressed appropriately. How will you do that without a phone?”
Aries doesn’t bother trying to hide her surprise. “I’ll look out the window.” She delivers the line like I’m stupid, and for some reason it makes me want to laugh, but I don’t. “Have her ready by half nine, then we can be at the museum before opening to avoid the queues.”
“Yes, sir.”
She turns and lets herself out of the dining room, and I watch her go. That mane of red hair is so long it almost grazes the apples of her arse cheeks, which are concealed by snug-fitting blue jeans. So round and tempting . I scold myself for letting the thought occur, but when she reaches out to open the door, the t-shirt she’s wearing shifts upwards, revealing a thin strip of what looks to be a thong resting on her hip bone, and I know I’m going to have my work cut out to police my thoughts. She’s temptation wrapped up in a perfect package.
Only when the door closes behind her do I realise that I never offered her a drink.