Matilda Next Door - Kelly Hunter Page 0,26

rusks. She sat Rowan up to watch her and proceeded to tell her all about spoons and sporks and saucepans.

From screaming demon to appreciative audience. Emboldened, Tilly bathed the baby later that day, and told her she was a pretty girl, such a good girl, and then dragged the portable cot into the kitchen and put Rowan in it while she baked macaroons as a gift for Len and all the neighbours who had helped her so far.

Tilly baked and Rowan burbled and waved her tiny arms and legs and chewed the wooden spoon and looked around with big blue eyes that in no way reminded Tilly of Henry. Nothing about this baby reminded her of Henry, from the blue eyes and gorgeous red hair to the shape of her face to her skin so much lighter than Henry’s. But she was beautiful regardless, and blessedly quiet this fine new morning. And the smell of baking soothed Tilly in turn, and the sun shone weakly through the kitchen window and it wasn’t much but it was more sunshine than she’d seen since landing in London.

In some mad way her new routine took the pressure off her having to be a tourist, doggedly trying to enjoy every new experience. This here? Doing familiar baking while keeping an eye on a contented baby? Adventurous it was not, but there was a quiet joy in it that called to her.

And then the phone rang, and she knew that number, no doubt. ‘Hey, Mum.’

‘Daughter. How’s the little one?’

‘Today, so far so good. We’re making macaroons for the neighbours.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘Did Henry get away?’ He’d been scheduled on a flight that should have left by now.

‘About that …’ Tilly’s heart sank at her mother’s words and unusually grave tone. ‘Bethany had a stroke last night. She’s been taken to Melbourne. Joe and Henry followed in the car and are with her now, and your father and I are holding the fort while they’re gone.’

‘Good, good.’ That’s what neighbours did. They helped out. ‘So, Henry missed his flight.’

‘Matilda, if there’s any way you can get that baby here without Henry having to come and get her, it’d be a big help. Bethany’s touch and go, Joe’s a mess, and Henry’s torn between doing what he needs to do here and heading back to relieve you.’

‘Got it.’

‘I know how much this trip means to you.’

‘I know you do. And thank you—for knowing.’ Mothers did that. They just knew. ‘But this whole trip has been about venturing out of my comfort zone, right? And me gearing up to take Henry’s daughter back to Aus? That’s dinner-time conversation for years to come. And blackmail material. He’ll be doing me favours forever.’

‘I’m sorry, love. You were having so much fun.’

Oh, yes. Much fun. Her mother didn’t know the bad bits, because Tilly hadn’t told her.

‘You’ll have to cancel the cooking school lessons,’ her mother continued, and that bit did bite.

Tilly tried to make light of it. ‘Who wants to learn about choux pastry from a French master chef anyway?’ Best not to dwell on the answer to that question. ‘I can always come back and do it another time.’

‘Yes, on Henry’s dime.’

‘I’m sorry to hear about Bethany.’ Tilly hated the feeling of helplessness that came over her at the thought of the older woman never being able to go home again. ‘How good are her chances of recovery?’ Her mother’s pause told her everything she needed to know. ‘Okay, then. Matilda to the rescue. I like it. Very Mary Poppins.’ She could do this. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

*

Henry waited at the airport, short on sleep and burdened with guilt. If he hadn’t surprised his grandmother with the news of his reluctant fatherhood she may not have had the stroke that landed her on life support. If he’d been a better person, Rowan’s mother might have seen fit to confide in him before she up and died. If he’d been a better man, he wouldn’t have made Matilda cut short her holiday in order to travel from London to Melbourne with his daughter in tow, while he sorted out a long-stay apartment near the hospital for his grandfather, filled the fridge and made sure the man ate three small meals a day and got some rest in between pacing hospital hallways and sitting in ICU waiting rooms. He was needed here—no question—but Tilly had needed him, too, and he hadn’t delivered.

As to what he was going to do with