if I’m trying to defile her only daughter anymore, is it?’
‘Well … about that …’ Romy chewed her thumb, breathing shallowly.
‘What?’
‘Look, I’ll explain later,’ she said, tugging at his arm to pull him out of the chair. Fortunately, he helped her by standing up. She grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, stuffed it into his hand and started guiding him towards the door. But it was too late. She heard a key in the door and her mother’s light step in the hallway.
‘Shit! You’ll have to hide.’ She turned Kit around and started shoving him towards her bedroom. It was like trying to push a tractor.
‘Romy?’ She spun around to see her mother standing in the doorway, carrying a sleeping Luke in his car seat. Damn!
She sighed, her arms going limp, releasing Kit. ‘Hi, Mum,’ she said defeatedly.
Hermother’s eyes were popping out of her head as she took in Kit and the breakfast things on the table. ‘Well, well, well – Kit Masterson!’
‘Hello, Mrs Fitzgerald.’ He smiled, giving her a little wave.
She stood there, looking between Romy and Kit with a look of wonderment until her attention was drawn by Luke gurgling and stirring in his seat.
‘Well, I’m very glad to see you, Kit,’ she said, placing the car seat on the floor and bending to unstrap Luke and lift him out. ‘Better late than never, right?’ She smiled down at the wriggling baby in her arms and then walked straight up to Kit. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give him to you to hold?’
‘Oh, no, that’s not – I mean I’m not very—’
‘Go on, he won’t bite. You’ll be fine. It’s about time you two got acquainted.’ She continued to advance towards Kit, nudging him towards the chair until he had no choice but to flop down into it.
‘Oh well, all right then. Just for a minute …’ Kit looked so terrified as her mother carefully handed Luke to him that Romy was almost tempted to giggle – except this situation wasn’t funny.
‘There!’ Her mother straightened, smiling down warmly at Kit and Luke. ‘You’re a natural,’ she said encouragingly, despite the fact that Kit was holding Luke like he was a ticking bomb about to go off any second. ‘You know, he’s the spit of you,’ she continued, looking down at Kit, who thankfully had his head bent.
‘Yes, I know!’ Romy said brightly. ‘He’s the image of me.’ Kit shot her a quizzical look – probably wondering why she was behaving like a nutcase.
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘I know what you meant, Mum. But look at the time! Thanks for minding Luke, but you don’t have to hang around herewith us. Aren’t you meant to be meeting Maeve for coffee?’
‘Oh, I’ve plenty of time,’ she said, waving away Romy’s protests. ‘She’s always late anyway. So, are you home for a holiday?’ she asked Kit.
‘No, I’ve moved back – for the moment anyway.’
‘Oh, that’s great! I’m really glad to hear it.’
Romy was aware of Kit looking nervously down at Luke as if waiting for instructions about what he should do next. ‘Here, let me take him,’ she said, bending towards him, but her mother held her back.
‘Romy, you have to give Kit and Luke a chance to bond. You’ve had him to yourself for three months. Kit’s only seeing him for the first time today. You just have to give them time.’ She folded her arms, looking down fondly at Kit and Luke. ‘He’s great, isn’t he?’ she said to Kit.
‘Brilliant!’ Kit, feeling the weight of Mrs Fitzgerald’s gaze and clearly feeling something was expected of him, pulled Luke up towards his face. ‘Um … say Mama,’ he quavered uncertainly to Luke, who rolled his head around a little and gurgled, his tongue rolling out of his mouth.
‘Ma-ma,’ Kit tried again, enunciating each syllable clearly.
‘He’s only three months old, Kit,’ Romy’s mother said.
‘He’s not talking yet,’ Romy clarified.
‘Oh, is that … I mean is he …
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