All I Want For Christmas (2 page)

‘A nanny!' Helen snapped. ‘There's quite a difference from working for a privileged family to a crèche like this. Our children's parents range from cleaners to consultants.'Coffee granules scattered as her hand shook. ‘But I suppose you must have formal qualifications or you wouldn't be here.'

‘Helen!' Sarah protested. ‘That's the sort of
remark
you'd expect of me!'

‘It's all right, Sarah,' Lauren interrupted. ‘Helen has every right to ask.' She turned to the older woman. ‘Before I worked as a nanny, I obtained a Diploma in Childcare and Education, as I'm sure you did, Helen.'

‘Of course,' Helen answered sharply, ‘but practical experience has far greater importance than anything on paper.'

‘I couldn't agree more,' Lauren replied quietly. ‘Which is why I want to widen my experience.' She glanced at her watch. ‘Now, shouldn't we be getting ready? The children will be arriving any minute, won't they?'

Helen's long nose twitched. ‘Oh, you don't have to worry about anything, Ms Mallory. After we close each night, some of us make sure everything's prepared for the next morning. Keeping the children happy and contented is our main concern. I suppose, being a nanny, things were done differently.'

‘I said I
originally
worked as a nanny, Helen.' Lauren, remembering the reason for her change of job to this one, paused before continuing. ‘More recently I was working for a pharmaceutical company. The crèche there catered for over fifty children under five, rising to seventy or more during school holidays, when brothers and sisters joined them.'

‘Well, you couldn't have had any real contact with such a large number,' Helen retorted.

‘Oh,
but we did, Helen. Each member of staff was responsible for only three infants. We knew, and loved, each child as our own. Now,' Lauren said briskly. ‘I think it's time we finished this coffee and started some work.'

* * *

The morning progressed rapidly. All the children began to arrive at the same time and the room filled with noise. Voices shrieked. Laughter bubbled. Feet clattered. Chairs scraped. Cupboard doors crashed open.

And every single child is happy,
Lauren observed, watching them. But even as she thought that, the door opened again.

Through it came a weary-looking woman, pregnant with what Lauren decided from her size could only be twins or triplets. And entangled in her long black coat, tiny fingers gripping it tightly, was a child.

With head hidden by a hood and face buried into the coat, Lauren couldn't work out whether it was a boy or girl. What she could see was that the child was deeply distressed.

‘Now then, Zoe. We don't want all that fuss, do we?' Helen was marching over, one hand outstretched towards the child's shoulder.

‘It's all right, Helen,' Lauren said, quickly stepping forward. ‘You carry on with the face-painting. There's quite a queue growing.'

She sat on her heels beside the sobbing
child.
‘Hullo, Zoe. I'm Lauren.' The child's fingers twisted themselves more deeply into the black coat.

‘Oh, come on, Zoe, you know I've got to go,' the woman murmured, desperately trying to release the clinging hands.

‘Zoe,' Lauren said quietly. ‘I'm new here today. Just like you were when you first came. Remember? And I don't know where anything is kept. Now I need to find the Lego. Could you could help me?'

The hood moved a little as the head inside swivelled round. One bright red cheek appeared, part-hidden by a waterfall of straight dark hair.

‘Sarah said it was in one of the cupboards,' Lauren continued, slowly standing up. ‘But I can't find the right one.'

One by one, Zoe's fingers released their tight clasp of the coat, then pushed back the enveloping hood of her anorak, to reveal huge tear-wet brown eyes under a thick untidy fringe.

‘I know where,' she announced firmly, catching hold of Lauren's hand and starting to run across the room.

‘Her father will collect her at six,' the woman called, turning to leave.

‘Okay!' Lauren called back.

As the day wore on, she began to wonder whether she'd said the right thing to Zoe. The child never left her side. By the end of the
afternoon,
taught by her self-appointed little instructor, Lauren knew every child's name and whether they were horrible or nice.

‘You're working wonders, Lauren, All Zoe's ever done before is cry,' Sarah commented, tucking one of the babies into a buggy, ready for collection. ‘She's only been here a week. It just shows she's been taking in everything, though. Quite a bright little thing, isn't she?'

Children had come and gone during the day, as their mothers came on or went off duty. By six o'clock there were only half-a-dozen left. Sarah and the other girls had them dressed in outdoor clothes, waiting. Those who were big enough helped. Others gathered up paintings and things they'd constructed to take home.

By six-fifteen the room was empty of children—except for one. Zoe. Lauren looked at her watch. Helen was clearing up and preparing everything for the following morning. The other staff had already left.

Zoe stood beside Lauren, gazing anxiously up at her every now and then. ‘Don't go.' The small voice was urgent.

Lauren bent down. ‘Of course I won't go, sweetheart. There's no need to worry. Your Daddy will be here soon. Mummy said he'd collect you.'

‘Mummy's gone.'

‘Only to work, sweetheart,' Lauren explained.

Zoe
shook her head, sending her dark hair swirling round her face. ‘No! Gone! Gone! Gone!' The words rose into a shriek.

Lauren's hands caught the child's in her own. What an insecure little creature she was. What on earth could have made her like this?

‘Of course your Mummy's not gone, poppet. She'll be at home right now. Making your tea, I expect. What do you think it will be?'

Brown eyes gazed solemnly up at her. ‘No, Daddy makes our tea.'
Good for him,
Zoe thought.
But I wish he'd collect his daughter.

‘That's everything, Ms Mallory.' Helen appeared, buttoning her jacket.

‘Are you all right to stay on with Zoe? Dr Trevissick's probably caught up in some emergency. He really has no idea of time.'

It was six-thirty now.
This really is a bit much,
Lauren fumed, studying Zoe who sat, perched on a chair beside her, white-faced and anxious.

‘Has my Daddy gone away, too?'

‘No, sweetheart, I'm sure he'll be here very soon,' Lauren soothed.

Didn't her father realise how important it is to a child to be there when expected? Knowing how difficult it was for Zoe to settle into the crèche, surely he must know that this sort of behaviour would only make her more insecure.
If Dr Trevissick isn't here in five minutes, I'll have him paged, whatever he's doing,
she raged.

‘Daddy's not coming.' A tear brimmed over
and
slid down the tired little face, followed by another and another.

‘He will be here soon, Zoe. I expect he's busy making someone better.' The little girl slowly shook her head.

‘My Mummy didn't come back,' she wept, and Lauren could feel the tears wet against her own cheek as she held the child close.

A myriad doubts were racing through her head. Why hadn't Zoe's mother collected her, if she knew her husband was likely to be late? Was she one of those Sarah had spoken about—a nurse working a split shift?

Could she still be a nurse in that heavily pregnant state? It seemed doubtful. Lauren tried to remember whether the woman had been wearing a uniform under her coat. Perhaps she worked as a secretary or receptionist.

Six forty-five.
Okay, Dr Trevissick,
she thought grimly,
if you haven't a home to go to, I have
. Picking up the telephone, she asked for him to be paged, requesting that he come to the crèche immediately.

Minutes later, the door burst open. Trying not to disturb the now sleeping child she held in her arms, Lauren turned her head. Striding through the doorway, charcoal-grey jacket swirling round his narrow hips, was Rick's lookalike.

CHAPTER
TWO

Dr Trevissick ignored Lauren, his gaze on the sleeping child she held. ‘What's happened to Zoe?' he demanded.

‘Nothing that a little loving care won't cure,' Lauren replied frostily. ‘She's very distressed, waiting over an hour for you to collect her. You do realise, Dr Trevissick, that this crèche closes at six o'clock?'

He glanced down at his watch and his expression softened. ‘I had no idea it was so late. I really am sorry. It's been one of those days, I'm afraid.'

Lauren saw the corners of his mouth tilt, and the sharp planes of his angular face relax into a smile.

‘Could you hang onto Zoe for another five minutes, while I give the nursing staff instructions for a change of medication? I must do it before I leave tonight.' He caught the look on Lauren's face. ‘I promise I won't be longer than ten at the most.'

Lauren sighed. She was so late already that another five minutes wasn't going to make much difference.

‘Okay then. Five minutes—no longer.'

It was an enchanting smile, Lauren decided, after he'd gone. He certainly knew how to turn on the charm. Her mouth tightened. That was
just
what everyone had said about Rick.

Zoe was becoming a dead weight on her left arm, and as Lauren moved to ease it, the little girl's eyes flew open. ‘Mummy!' For a second her small face was radiant, then the expression vanished.

‘Daddy's taking you home to see her any minute now. He was here—he's just gone to speak to one of the nurses, then he'll be back.'

‘Mummy doesn't live at our house.'

Lauren groaned inwardly. Why on earth hadn't she thought? Her mother and father were divorced, or separated, or something. Perhaps her mother had married again. That would explain the forthcoming baby, or babies. Zoe must have been staying with her mother over the weekend. That was why she'd brought her in this morning.

How stupid of her to think that everyone else led a happy family life, and that only hers was a disaster. It was so common nowadays. One in three marriages ended in divorce, isn't that what statistics said?
Why should it only be me? Every third person I meet is in the same boat. Or should that be every sixth?
she puzzled.

‘So your Daddy's going to take you home and make tea, is he?' she asked, hoping to distract the little girl.

Zoe nodded. ‘Fish fingers and chips. That's what we always have.'

‘Every day?' Lauren questioned.

The child nodded again. ‘We've got a
microwave.
Is Daddy coming soon? I'm hungry.'

Lauren checked her watch. ‘Very soon.'
And if he doesn't,
she thought,
there'll be ructions, and they won't be from Zoe.

The door opened, cautiously this time, and Dr Trevissick came back in.

‘You said five minutes—not fifteen.'

His apologetic smile made Lauren's anger melt.

‘Oh, never mind. You'd better take Zoe home for her fish fingers and chips before she falls asleep again.'

He frowned. ‘She'll be lucky if she gets that tonight. I've been working all weekend and . . .' He paused and raised one dark eyebrow at Lauren. ‘I overslept, which made me extremely late arriving here this morning, so I haven't had a chance to get to the supermarket.'

‘You do feed her properly, don't you?' Lauren questioned sharply.

‘Of course!'

‘So what are you giving her tonight?'

‘There's a take-away on our route home.'

‘A take-away! And how often does she have that kind of junk food?' Almost snatching the startled little girl from Lauren's arms, Dr Trevissick marched towards the door.

‘How and what I feed my own daughter are—'

‘In actual fact, while she's under my care, Dr Trevissick, how and what you feed your
daughter
is my concern as well as yours,' Lauren interrupted, following them into the corridor and locking the door behind her. She ran to catch up as he strode out into the damp November night.

‘Must you keep snapping at my heels like an angry terrier?' he grated.

‘Then stop rushing off like that,' Lauren suggested. ‘Bouncing Zoe about will make her sick.'

He stopped so unexpectedly that Lauren cannoned into him, and found one long arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her.

‘Look, Miss Whoever-You-Are, will you please go away,' he said in a voice verging on anger. ‘You've blighted my day from the moment I arrived. Now you're doing it again. Please remember Zoe is only in your charge from eight-thirty in the morning until six at night. Before and after that, I decide what she will do and how—be it eating, sleeping, or playing with her toys.'

With the strength of his arm preventing her from escaping, his face was so close that Lauren felt his every word warm her cheek, sending her heartbeat racing.

Overwhelming. Overpowering. So like Rick it was unbearable.

Wrenching herself away, she glowered up at him. Under the lights of the car park, a scattering of raindrops sparkled against the black swathe of his hair. Even his curving
eyebrows
glittered.

Today my husband is married again by now. Looking at this man, how can I ever forget?

Bitterness filled her voice when she replied. ‘You're quite right, Dr Trevissick. Zoe is only in my charge from eight-thirty in the morning until six at night. Before and after that, she is your responsibility.' Her voice rose. ‘So please remember, I don't intend sitting around half the evening, waiting for you to turn up and collect her.'