it was always he who was her supervising parent at Halloween and other red-letter days, she bounced into the room. ‘Dad! Tilly’s taking me to buy new face paints because I’m going to be a witch on Saturday.’
He smiled at her excitement, swung her up and kissed both her petal-soft cheeks. Emelie had brushed her fair hair into a ponytail and she was wearing a half-term outfit of pink fluffy jumper with jeans. ‘That’s exciting.’ He hadn’t actually taken a spoonful of his granola yet but he got up and made Josie’s Weetabix with raisins, knowing exactly how much milk she liked.
Emelie joined him at the fridge, reaching for Josie’s apple juice. ‘I’ll get that. You eat.’ Emelie gesticulated towards his breakfast, which probably meant she’d noticed he wasn’t eating properly too and wanted to capitalise on him actually having prepared food for himself. Her hair hung in a thick plait over one shoulder. She had a serene smile, a sunny nature and what Nico privately thought was a fairly undemanding lecture schedule, so living with them worked brilliantly. The exchange of accommodation for acting as a part-time au pair greatly reduced her student debt and enormously helped Nico’s childcare problems.
Tilly wasn’t a live-in nanny, though she did stay over in the fourth bedroom occasionally if Emelie couldn’t cover Nico’s trips to Sweden. In the last year she’d begun a side business as a gardener and now spent Josie’s school hours mowing lawns and trimming hedges. He wondered if she earned more money from gardening because her attitude to nannying had certainly slipped. She’d become almost offhand sometimes, which was a shame because ensuring Josie had himself, Emelie or Tilly whenever she wasn’t at school or at her mum’s was a constant challenge for Nico, demanding adaptability and flexibility from all concerned, except Loren.
Loren wasn’t one of life’s copers. If he asked her to keep Josie even an extra couple of hours she’d respond with anxiety and maybe a hand clapped over her eyes in a ‘I can’t take any more!’ gesture. She’d needed time off work with stress recently and sometimes went back on plans for a weekend with Josie, saying she wasn’t feeling up to it. He worried ‘not feeling up to it’ translated to her old behaviour kicking in. She’d made a big effort with her drinking when pregnant with Maria – partly because she’d realised alcohol had led to the hook-up responsible and partly because she’d hoped Nico would relent and they could stay together. Loren’s withdrawals troubled him but at least she seemed to look after Josie OK when she did have her. He kept in close touch to ensure it, though he worried that it was making both Josie and Loren cling to him.
He tried not to judge Loren’s limitations. Stress had his body turning on itself by ruthlessly suppressing the desire to eat, after all. But, understanding as he tried to be, his ex-wife’s issues left him with extra on his plate … figuratively speaking. He toyed with the analogy that the more he had on his plate emotionally the less he sat down to a plate of actual food. He couldn’t immediately see a way to reduce what was on the emotional plate so it was up to him to increase portions on the real one.
He took up his spoon. ‘Am I allowed to say you’ll make a great witch?’ he asked his daughter gravely. ‘Or would that be rude?’
Josie clambered onto the chair next to his, giggles bursting from her like musical bubbles on the air. ‘Witches are cool, Daddy. Tilly’s going to buy me a long black cloak, too. And a little broomstick.’
He smiled to see her sparkling eyes. ‘Fantastic. After trick or treating on Saturday I’m taking you to Mum’s and she’ll be able to see you as a witch too.’
‘Am I staying overnight?’ Josie frowned as if trying to remember.
‘That’s the plan,’ he agreed. Loren owned a flat a ten-minute walk away. Maria’s father played no part in Maria’s life other than to pay minimal child support but Loren had inherited from her grandparents in time to buy a place for her and Maria. Just as well, as Nico was stretched enough meeting an Islington mortgage originally based on the earning power of two. The cost of a nanny, even if not full-time, was crippling, and the household bills were like boulders on his shoulders.
‘Can I come home, instead?’ Josie asked, tiny lines still puckering the space between