love seats and spindle-back rocking chairs.
The girls behaved well, Maria accepting a queenly perch on his shoulders and tapping his head when she wanted him to look at something, so he took them to a nearby toy shop. Josie got a Christmas card craft set and a PVC tablecloth decorated with long-lashed dragons to protect the new table from glue, Maria a backpack with walking reins attached. Face shining, she chose a unicorn design with a silver horn. Josie grabbed the rein and became a princess with Maria as her pet magic unicorn. ‘Hold on tightly,’ Nico called. All he had to do was stroll behind as the princess and her unicorn trotted along the pavement. Who would have thought a pet magic unicorn moved so much faster than a two-year-old girl?
‘Let’s stop at this shop and buy a box of chocolates for Nan Heather because she’s hurt her arm,’ Nico called.
‘That’s the little old lady from the wedding, isn’t it?’ Josie demanded, slowing her unicorn to look round enquiringly.
‘That’s right. Hannah’s come home from Sweden to look after her.’ How hurt must Nan Heather be for Hannah to take weeks away from her boyfriend and business? Her blank surprise at seeing him yesterday had probably matched his blank surprise at seeing her … swiftly followed by a burst of heat he’d resolutely tamped down.
He drove home with Bastille playing and Maria lustily adding her own backing track of ‘Neh, neh, noo, noo, noo,’ as they purred into the village past a speed camera on which someone had painted a sad face, which Nico took as a warning that the camera was loaded and dangerous. Not remembering the number of Nan Heather’s house in The Cross, he paused at the garage to check with Ratty, whose oil stains stretched from his hands to the first tattoo on his forearm. Then he returned to Honeybun Cottage and put the table together, Maria ‘helping’ by poking her head between him and whatever he was trying to see and posting his spanner beneath the black range cooker so that he needed a coat hanger to hook it out.
After lunch, they pulled on their coats against a keen December wind and went out on foot, Nico happy to leave the buggy behind and let Josie be in charge of Maria’s reins.
Josie tapped the chocolate box under Nico’s arm. ‘Do you think Nan Heather will share?’
‘You’ve just had lunch,’ Nico reminded her. Josie looked at him as if wondering what his point was.
Nan Heather opened the side door before they’d knocked. Her curls fluffed atop her head like a punk-rock sheep and her plaster cast stuck out from her sleeve. ‘I saw you through the window. Hannah said you’d moved here, Nico. And the little girls, too! Hello, my ducks! Come in out of the cold. Would you like hot chocolate? Or orange juice?’
‘Juice, p’ease.’ Maria bustled happily over the threshold.
Josie followed. ‘Hot chocolate, please.’
Nico followed on into Nan Heather’s small yellow kitchen with white-painted cabinets and old-fashioned appliances. Cacti grew in a row on the windowsill like green hedgehogs marching from one rose-strewn curtain to the other and a row of Christmas cards glittered prettily from the dresser.
When he presented Nan with the chocolates, she beamed, faded eyes looming through her glasses. ‘You didn’t have to do that!’ Then, in the same breath, ‘Let’s get them open.’ The girls clustered around her as she lowered herself carefully onto a kitchen chair.
Hannah appeared from the next room. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
Nico had known he might see her this time so her smile didn’t hit him in the groin so much as last night. Soon she was boiling milk for hot chocolate, pouring juice and making coffee. Through the doorway, he could see an open laptop and a notepad on the table.
‘We’ve disturbed you,’ he said apologetically, when she handed him a steaming mug.
‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Nan’s obviously delighted to see your kids.’ She faltered as if wondering whether to revisit the term ‘your kids’ but he gave her an understanding smile and she went on. ‘I’ve unexpectedly picked up a project. A local rich kid, Simeon, converted old stables into a courtyard of crafty, cutesy shops and a tea room. He’s occupied elsewhere so I’m getting the traders into their units and doing the PR for the opening on the nineteenth. Simeon’s mum, Cassie, employed me but his dad, Christopher … It’s as if he suspects me of forcing Simeon to go