Chapter 7
Kitty walked through the village, her fists clenched around Nick’s jacket.
It was stupid to have gone home in it. Now she’d have to have yet another interaction with the full-of-himself local Lothario, and she’d had her fill the night before.
If it were only the jacket, she wouldn’t have bothered.
Sadly, it had the bloke’s wallet in the pocket, and she could hardly shove it in the back of the wardrobe and forget about it.
She pulled the driving licence from the wallet and checked the address again.
She was on the right street at least. Kitty carried on, trying to get a sense of the houses that hid behind large gates.
From street level, most looked like modest bungalows, but as the last properties before the beach, she suspected they sat tucked against the clifftop, their true size only visible from the beach below.
The gates to Nick’s house were open. Kitty paused, wishing she didn’t have to do this.
As she approached the house, she could hear raised voices.
Her hand hesitated on the brass knocker when the door was yanked open, and a scowling woman barrelled into her.
They tumbled in a heap on the driveway, and it took Kitty a moment to get over the shock and scramble to her feet.
The other woman did the same, brushing herself off, the scowl firmly in place.
She was beautiful, and Kitty felt woefully inadequate.
While they shared tight corkscrew curls, the other woman had somehow tamed her raven locks enough that they framed her delicate features and gave her an understated elegance.
Kitty’s, on the other hand, had turned to frizz in the heat.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ said Kitty, brushing grit off her knees.
‘Are you Nick’s girlfriend?’ demanded the woman, placing her hands on her hips.
‘What? No, um, I only met him last night.’
‘And you didn’t wake up in his bed?’ The woman shook her head. ‘You’re a stronger woman than I am. Either that or he’s losing his touch.’
Before Kitty could make sense of this outburst, Nick appeared in the doorway. His face was pale and stressed. A sheen of sweat on his skin suggested he might throw up at any moment.
‘Oh, hi, Katy, isn’t it?’
‘Kitty.’
‘Right, yeah, Kitty. Sorry, now’s not a good time.’
‘Of course. I needed to return this.’ Kitty held out the jacket. ‘It’s got your wallet inside. You’ve got visitors, I see.’ She nodded towards the woman.
‘You could say that,’ muttered Nick under his breath.
‘I was just leaving,’ said Carla, though she didn’t move.
‘Good,’ said Nick. ‘Because I’ve said no, Carla. You can’t dump your daughter here and expect…’
‘Your daughter?’ said Kitty before she could stop herself.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Carla, turning. ‘What is this, an audience?’
Nick sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘Kitty’s new in the village. She’s a teacher.’
‘A teacher?’ Carla’s expression softened a fraction. ‘Good. Someone sensible, at least.’
Before Kitty could retreat, Carla had taken her by the arm and guided her inside. ‘Perfect timing,’ she said brightly. ‘You can help me knock some sense into him.’
‘I really shouldn’t…’
‘Too late now.’ Carla steered her towards the sofa.
The house was bright and spacious but held a hint of stale beer in the air, and the magazines and empty coffee cups scattered around were in contrast to the sleek fixtures and fittings. Kitty perched on the edge of a cushion while Carla paced up and down the rug, hands fluttering to her hair.
Nick looked ready to explode. ‘You can’t do this, Carla. I told you I’ll take the test. Until then…’
This was what the fight was about? A daughter Nick hadn’t known existed? Kitty didn’t know whether to laugh or feel hugely sorry for Carla and the child.
‘Until then, what? You’ll pretend she doesn’t exist?’ Carla spun round. ‘I’ve raised Emily on my own for five years. I’ve never asked you for anything. Not once. Now I need help for one week, and you’re acting like I’m asking for a kidney.’
Kitty’s chest tightened. There was no mistaking the tremor in Carla’s voice. This wasn’t a performance; it was a woman unravelling.
‘A week?’ said Nick.
‘A few days, maybe less.’ Carla pulled a tissue from her bag. ‘My dad’s dying. He’s got days, Nick, maybe hours. I can’t take Emily there. I’ve run out of options.’
The room went quiet. Nick’s anger deflated.
A small voice drifted in from the snug. ‘Mummy?’
Carla turned. A little girl, who must be Emily, stood in the doorway, clutching the hem of her T-shirt, eyes wide. Kitty’s heart swelled in sympathy for the child.
‘It’s OK, baby,’ Carla said softly, crossing to her. She crouched, brushing a curl from the girl’s face. ‘We were talking. Grown-up talk.’
‘Are we going home soon?’
Carla’s mouth trembled. She swallowed, then smiled. ‘Not just yet.’ She gestured to the other woman. ‘This is Kitty. Why don’t you show her what you’ve been watching on TV?’
Emily’s gaze moved shyly to Kitty. Kitty smiled, crouching to her level. ‘I love CBBC,’ she said. ‘What are you watching?’
Emily brightened a little. ‘Bluey.’
‘The best one,’ said Kitty. ‘Why don’t you go back to the snug, and I’ll be through in a moment to watch with you?’
Carla gave Kitty a grateful look, an unspoken thank you, and Kitty nodded almost imperceptibly.
Once Emily had wandered to the snug, Carla straightened. ‘You see? She’s fine. She’s adaptable. She’ll be alright here for a few days.’
‘You’re really leaving her today?’ asked Kitty.
Carla nodded, eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I don’t want to, but I can’t wait. I need to be in Bristol tonight.’
‘Carla…’ Nick started.
Carla held up a hand. ‘You said you’d think about it. Please. I’m not asking for forever. Just until I come home.’
Nick’s jaw tightened.
Kitty could see the battle behind his eyes, the disbelief, the panic, the faint pull of something deeper he didn’t want to name. Maybe the man was more than a shallow pretty-boy and could feel human emotion after all?
‘Look at her, Nick,’ said Carla quietly. ‘She deserves better than being dragged to an angry dying man’s bedside. She needs normality for a few days. You can give her that.’
Nick sighed, the fight seeping out of him. ‘Can we talk about it more, please? This is all so mad, and I can’t get my head around it,’ he said finally.
Carla’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘Thank you for not saying an outright no. Talking sounds good.’
‘Mummy?’ said Emily, standing in the doorway to the snug with her thumb in her mouth. ‘I want to go home.’
Kitty went out to the little girl. Whatever was going on here, Emily should not be caught in the crossfire. Emily’s hand reached for hers. This wasn’t Kitty’s mess to clear up, but she couldn’t walk away. ‘Have you been to the beach yet, Emily?’
The little girl shook her head.
‘Your mummy and Nick need to have a little talk. Maybe we could explore outside?’ Kitty looked over Emily’s head and raised her eyebrows in a question. Carla nodded and managed a smile.
Carla crouched beside her daughter and with a forced brightness said, ‘Would you like to go to the beach with Kitty? It won’t be for long. I need to talk to Nick, and you know how boring grown-ups’ conversations can be.’
‘OK,’ said Emily. She looked up with another shy smile and, with a jolt, Kitty saw the resemblance to her father.
Emily and Nick shared the same straight nose, which turned up slightly at the end.
It was the eyes, however, that were most striking.
Hazel, with a hint of green and gold. Whatever was going on here, Kitty was sure of one thing.
Carla wasn’t lying about her daughter’s paternity.
‘Come on then,’ she said, taking the child’s hand. The feel of a small hand in hers was shocking, the memory it unearthed stealing Kitty’s breath. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, blinked away tears, and turned to Nick. ‘Do you have a bucket and spade we could borrow?’
He stared at her as if she’d asked for a jar of moon dust.
‘I’ll take that as a no. Is there a way down to the beach from the garden?’
‘Um, yeah,’ said Nick, recovering his composure. ‘If you walk to the end of the garden, you’ll find a wooden staircase which takes you right to the beach.’
‘Great. We’ll stay near the steps so you can find us when we’re ready. Can you show us the way out, please?’
‘Sure.’ Nick led them through the open-plan space and with one quick tug, the bifold doors slid silently on their runners. ‘Thanks for this.’
‘No problem.’
Emily let go of Kitty’s hand and ran to the edge of the decking. ‘I can see the sea!’
‘I’m sorry you’ve been lumbered with the kid,’ said Nick, his voice too low for Emily to hear.
‘It’s fine.’
‘It’s not.’
Kitty stared into those hazel eyes, wanting to knock sense into the head behind them. ‘Listen, Nick, if Emily is going to stay with you, there are practical details you and Carla need to discuss. Go inside and start acting like the father you’ve got to step up and be.’
Before Nick could reply, she crossed the decking and took Emily’s hand once more. They walked through the garden, Kitty relieved to have escaped the drama she’d somehow stumbled into.