‘It isn’t me Lily wants; she just likes to be changed first.’ Registering Catherine’s frown, Jessica gestured to the change table. ‘She likes her nappy changed before she has her bottle, then she settles right down.’
‘Of course.’ Catherine’s movements were wooden her gestures awkward as she laid Lily down on the changing table, and even though she wanted Jessica to go, even though she wanted her fumbling to be unwitnessed, Catherine was silently terrified of being left alone with Lily; the full weight of the responsibility that she had fought for, starting to descend on her tense shoulders. ‘All these poppers.’ She let out a nervous laugh, pulling the legs of Lily’s baby suit closed over the clumsily applied nappy.
‘You’ll soon get used to them,’ Jessica said kindly. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’
It took a moment to register she hadn’t gone. Only when Catherine looked up did she realise Jessica still stood there.
‘Mrs Mancini?’ Her voice was hesitant, and under any other circumstances Catherine would have moved to reassure her. But, knowing what was coming, she simply couldn’t do it. ‘About that night—about the row we had with Janey…’
Deliberately Catherine didn’t turn her head; deliberately she concentrated on the poppers.
‘I feel so guilty.’
‘You have nothing to feel guilty about.’ Catherine’s voice was high, her gestures subtly dismissive as still she focused on the blessed poppers. ‘Neither of us have anything to feel guilty about, come to that. Janey and Marco were out of line, and something had to be said.’
‘But if I hadn’t walked out on them that morning…’
‘This isn’t your fault.’ Finally she met her employee’s eyes. ‘And going over it doesn’t change a thing. It’s Lily who is important now.’
‘I know,’ Jessica mumbled. ‘Except…’
Oh, God, she didn’t need this now—didn’t want to be standing here at two a.m., lifting the lid on Pandora’s Box. But she wasn’t quite ready to close it either.
‘Except what?’
‘Janey begged me to stay.’ Tears were streaming down Jessica’s cheeks unstopped, and Catherine felt like joining her. But she knew she had to be strong if ever she were to survive. ‘Janey swore she was going to change, that they both were. She said…’
‘That thing’s would be different?’ Catherine shook her head ruefully. ‘That it really was the last time? Well, let me tell you, Jessica, I’ve lost count of how many times Janey said the same to me—lost count of the times she swore things were about to change. The last thing either of us deserves is another dose of guilt. Janey made her own choices, and unfortunately we’re the ones living with them. You have nothing to feel guilty about.’
She watched as Jessica nodded, saw her dejected shoulders as she turned to leave the nursery, and knew she had said nothing to comfort her.
‘Jessica?’ Catherine called her back. ‘This wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t mine. I don’t want to hear another word about what was said that night, or what happened the morning after. We did nothing wrong.’
If only she could believe it.
Blinking back tears as the door closed on Jessica, Catherine settled back in the rocking chair she and Rico had hastily chosen, along with the rest of the nursery furniture. It felt like a film set—everything new, everything staged for tonight’s main show—and at that moment Catherine felt like the worst actress in the world.
Lily let out a low whimper which Catherine quickly countered, pulling the baby in closer. But she could barely feign affection as she held the hot body of her niece close, the soft downy hair tickling her neck as she cuddled her.
A poor substitute for a mother.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SEEING her empty pillow, Rico’s first reaction was to panic, but he forced himself to lie there for a moment, ears straining to hear her voice, waiting for the bathroom door to open, for Catherine to come back to him. Running a hand along the bed confirmed what he knew. The uneasy sleep, the vague discomfort he had awoken with, were all explained as he felt the cool sheets.
He had been sleeping alone.
Deliberately he moved slowly, taking his time to shower, to dress, resisting the urge to find her, to demand to know where she was hiding.
Opening the nursery door, he stepped inside, staring for a moment at the two new ladies in his life. Lily was comfortable and contented, sleeping the innocent sleep of babies, with nothing more on her mind than where her next feed would come from. For a second his stern features melted, but it wasn’t Lily’s beauty that held his gaze, instead it was Catherine.
Rico frowned in concern. Her face was so pale, her posture awkward in the hard chair, and though his stomach still churned from their row last night, though his mind was still buzzing from her spiteful words, in the grey morning shadows the woman who had taunted him last night seemed but a distant memory. She was almost as childlike as Lily in her innocence—dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, the bulky rings on her finger looking out of place on such slender hands.
Moving quietly, he picked up the slumbering Lily, placing her gently in the crib and covering her before turning his attention back to his reluctant wife. Her eyes flicked open, and he watched as she accustomed herself once again to her new surroundings.
‘So this is where you have been hiding.’
‘Lily woke—’ Catherine started, casting her eyes anxiously around the room, and Rico registered her fear and moved to reassure her.