The Greek Doctor's New-Year Baby

‘If she can twist you round her little finger at this stage, heaven help you when she’s a teenager. All she’ll have to do is bat her eyes at you and say, “I love you, Daddy,” and you’ll be putty in her hands,’ Madison said, laughing.

‘I will not. I’ll be a stern Greek father.’

‘Sure you will.’ Madison chuckled. ‘You’ll probably terrify her boyfriends. But you’ll be a complete pushover where our baby’s concerned. And don’t deny it—Sophie’s told me what kind of uncle you are.’

His eyes widened. ‘You talk to Sophie?’

‘She emails me. So does Meli—who’s going to come over when I’m on maternity leave and teach me to cook.’

‘You, learn to cook? Now, this,’ he said with a grin, ‘I have to see.’

‘You just wait,’ she said primly, but her eyes were sparkling.

Over dinner, Madison said thoughtfully, ‘They say things come in threes—I wonder what the third one will be?’

‘Baby, job…How about getting married?’ he suggested. Madison had so far refused to set a date for the wedding and it was driving him crackers.

‘Not until the baby’s here,’ she said firmly.

He knew better than to start a pointless battle. ‘OK. How about a new house to go with the new job and the new baby?’

She blinked. ‘House?’

‘I’m settled in London now, and if you want to stay here too then it makes sense for us to buy a place rather than rent. And this place isn’t really going to be big enough for a growing family.’

‘Well, I’ve got some savings,’ she said.

‘No need. My family’s wealthy, kardoula mou. Dad gave us all a fairly big chunk of money when we graduated—well, Stefanos obviously hasn’t got his yet, but he will do. I spent mine on a house. I sold it last year, and made quite a profit. I have enough for a substantial deposit. So let’s go house-hunting.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously,’ he confirmed. ‘I can provide for you, Maddie.’

She folded her arms. ‘Spare me the macho-man bit, Theo. This is the twenty-first century. I don’t expect you to provide for me—but I do expect a real marriage. An equal partnership. So we’ll do this together or we won’t do it at all.’

‘You know, we’re definitely going to have to have another baby,’ Theo said. ‘A son. To even the balance in our house.’

Madison laughed. ‘Yes, dear.’

Luck was on their side—not only did they find the perfect house in the first week of looking but there was no chain because the previous owners had sold it to a developer in a part-exchange deal. A month later, and the house was theirs. Theo organised decorators—‘Agapi mou, the paint fumes won’t be good for the baby, and anyway painting walls will give you backache,’ he informed Madison when she protested.

‘This is going to be the best Christmas ever,’ Madison said in satisfaction when they moved in. ‘My parents are coming to stay, your family are flying over from Greece—and maybe your grandparents might join us.’ Although Theo had made his peace with them when he’d moved to England, she’d noticed that they were still reserved with him. Though his grandmother had seemed to thaw a little when they’d told her they were expecting a little girl.

Christmas was as big and noisy as Madison had planned. Their families liked each other; there were no tensions about whose traditions were being used because, as Madison herself put it, it was a new house and a new joint family and this was their first Christmas together. The entire time seemed to be filled with laughter and planning a spring wedding and a christening.

When Madison slipped quietly into the kitchen to put the kettle on, Eleni followed her. ‘I just wanted to say thank you, Madison,’ she said quietly. ‘Because of you, my boy doesn’t have shadows in his eyes any more.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I say “my boy”—I know he’s only borrowed, but I love him like my own. And I can’t wait for my third grandchild to arrive.’

‘Eleni, you are my mother,’ Theo said softly.

‘Theo? Where did you come from?’

‘Just making sure Maddie isn’t overdoing things.’ He took her hands. ‘Why do you think I’m only borrowed, kardoula mou?’

Eleni shrugged. ‘You stopped calling me Mamá after we told you about your mother.’

‘I was fifteen, at a difficult age, and I had a lot to get my head round—but, yes, you’re right, I’ve avoided using the word,’ Theo admitted. ‘And I’m sorry. It’s not because I don’t love you, because I do. You’ve always been there for me. And I’ve always thought of you as mine.’ He smiled at her. ‘S’agapo, Mamá.’