Chosen Child by Linda Huber

work for him. But
Alan had sounded as if Rick had chosen not to work full time. Why hadn’t he
talked this over with her – and just where exactly had he been every Wednesday?
Was it the only day he had off?
    Making a split second decision, Ella pushed her coffee mug
away and rummaged in the cutlery drawer for the spare shed key. Two minutes
later, she was staring at the tomato plants, which were growing like mad –
tomatoes and everything. Surely they must need more light than they had here.
She glanced round but there were no books or pamphlets or anything giving
information about tomatoes. In fact, she realised, examining the shed more
carefully, there was nothing here that explained Rick’s fascination with the
place. A shelf of plants under one window and a worktable under the other, a
blue plastic tub with the larger tools, and an old bookcase with an assortment
of miscellaneous items – what on earth did Rick do all the time he spent here?
Looking after the plants wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes a day. The
place was still smelly, too, the bag of bone meal under the shelf was
responsible for that, but otherwise it was nothing more than a dull, boring
shed. Ella switched on the radio on the worktable, surprised when a local
station boomed into the shed, discussing safety measures on coastal paths. Rick
rarely listened to the radio, and when he did it was Radio Four.
    She moved away, grabbing the table when the floor wobbled
beneath her feet. The wooden slabs were muddy, too, after this week’s rain. She
reached for the broom, then stopped. It wasn’t that the shed was Rick’s private
place, but he might not like to think she’d been poking round here. And if
she’d been expecting to find a marijuana factory she was disappointed. Maybe
Rick simply felt the need for a place to potter – a man-thing, perhaps. Keep
him sweet, Ella.
    When Rick arrived home at five he seemed as usual, kissing
her quickly before going upstairs to change. Ella’s mood plummeted – why
couldn’t he have arrived with a swing set or some other reason for taking a day
off work? Of course it wasn’t just the one day… She clutched her handbag to her
middle. She wouldn’t say anything yet. That would ruin the evening, and she
needed more time to think. Whatever happened, whatever Rick was doing, it
mustn’t endanger the adoption.
    As usual, Soraya was waiting for them at the window. Ella
tried to hug the little girl when she opened the door, but Soraya wriggled
away, running to fetch her jacket.
    ‘She’s a bit jittery,’ said Mel. ‘That probably won’t change
until she’s moved in with you and feels safe in her forever home. For the
moment we’ll need to be patient with her.’
    Ella nodded. It would take time, but they had that, and
Soraya was certainly happy about becoming their daughter. But happiness didn’t
always equal trust.
     
     
    ‘Can I have pizza with pineapple?’ Soraya ran to a table by
the window.
    Ella saw Rick frown. Oh dear, maybe they should have gone
for a hamburger or something in a more child-friendly location. Rick had chosen
this restaurant, a traditional pizzeria near Chiverton, and there wasn’t a
single other child in the room.
    The waiter swept up. ‘Si, si, signorina.
Prego.’ He patted Soraya’s head and produced a large cushion for her to
sit on, pushed Ella’s chair underneath her, and went for menus. Ella’s apprehension
vanished.
    Sheer joy spread through her. Here they were, a family of
three; the two of them were out for a meal with their child .
It was intoxicating. She had dreamed of this for so long, and now it was
happening.
    And it was fun, this being a family – a completely new kind
of fun. Soraya’s eyes lit up when the waiter brought her a paper place mat and
a box of crayons. She sat colouring the beach scene, giving the waiter a gappy
smile when he complimented her on her artwork. Ella felt her beam stretch,
heavens, she was turning into one of those