Matilda Next Door - Kelly Hunter Page 0,24

and bring that baby to me, so don’t seed that thought with her parents. I’ll clean up my own mess.’

His grandmother left the room in a huff. His grandfather’s frown was harder to ignore. ‘Do you have something to say as well?’ Henry demanded.

‘Only that I think you’re dead right about leaving Tilly out of this. You’re going to need help. Tilly’s been raised to help those in need.’ His grandfather tapped his index finger to his temple. ‘That particular compulsion is up here, and in her heart as well, that’s how she’s built. And that girl always has been sweet on you. Followed you around like a puppy and never would hear a word against you. Even now, when you can barely remember to wish her happy birthday, she’s so proud of all you’ve achieved. And I’m proud of you too, and all the money you’ve made along the way, but it doesn’t blind me to your faults.’

‘And what are my faults? That I don’t do birthdays?’

‘You don’t do women, Henry. You don’t trust them. You don’t love them. Not even Beth. In all the years I’ve known you, that hasn’t changed.’

Henry had nothing to say to that. Possibly because it was true. His mother had been a hard woman to love, but he’d done his best. By the time he’d reached his grandmother and she’d started in on him, he hadn’t even felt like offering love in return. He’d offered obedience and hard work, and tried not to let her criticisms take hold. ‘So?’

His grandfather picked up the Dear Henry letter and raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘So, pretty soon you’re going to be a man in need of a wife and mother for your child. I’d hate for you to encourage Tilly to pick up those roles if you can’t bring yourself to love her back.’ His grandfather’s faded blue gaze pinned him to the spot. ‘Because that won’t work. She deserves better than that.’

Henry scraped back his chair and gathered the print outs. He had to get away from beneath that gaze. Clear his head of the notion that even the grandfather he idolised thought him a lost cause. ‘Stay away from Matilda Moore. Don’t drag her into my issues. Understood.’

He wasn’t good enough for her.

God knows he’d heard that before. ‘Just out of interest,’ he muttered. ‘What kind of parent do you think I’m going to be for this child? A good one? No. Not a good one, given your thoughts on love not being in my vocabulary. An indifferent one? Incompetent? Too self-absorbed to be of use—incapable of spotting a child’s needs …’ Yep, that was the one, and the fact that his grandfather thought so little of him hurt more than any of his grandmother’s sour words ever had.

‘I didn’t say any of that.’

And yet it was written all over his face. ‘You didn’t have to.’

*

Tilly’s morning started with the buzzing of Henry’s fancy intercom and Len the doorman’s voice booming through the speakers. ‘Ms Moore, I have some deliveries waiting for you downstairs.’

Ms Moore. The sooner she got back to a place where people called her Tilly, or even Matilda, the better. At this point she’d even welcome a Silly Tilly if accompanied by a smile and a hug. Tilly struggled to her feet, still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and ventured a reply. ‘Hey, Len. I’m awake, but not presentable. And if it’s more babies belonging to Henry, I don’t want ’em.’

‘There’s a pram. A baby car seat. Boxes of what looks like baby stuff.’

Had Suzannah sent more baby things over from Amanda’s place? Surely there was more than the contents of the carryall? ‘Removalist boxes, as in someone’s shifting the contents of their house?’

‘No, they’re straight from a retail store.’

That sounded more like Henry’s doing. ‘I’ll be down when I can.’

‘One of your neighbours has offered to bring them up.’

Probably in the interest of getting the wailing baby out of their life.

‘Thank them for me. I’ll prop the door open now. Tell them to come straight in.’

‘You do know we don’t really do that around here? Come right in.’

Tilly sighed. ‘Sorry. My bad. I’ll wait at the door and not invite them over the threshold. Will that work? Either way, please thank them.’

‘Not a problem.’

The neighbour was very sweet, understanding even, what with the disturbed night he’d had. He’d wanted to know when Henry would return, and for that she had no answer. She’d be speaking to him soon, no doubt. Right after