“Kay, if you need anything give me a call.’ It was Mitchell, his voice holding a quality that suddenly—ridiculously—made her want to cry.
‘Thank you.’ She managed to keep the wobble from sounding. ‘We’ll be all right, but thank you.’ And then, as Emily chose that moment to reach out for her glass of orange juice on the small table Kay had pulled close to the sofa, catching it with the teddy bear’s foot as she did so and sending the glass and its contents cascading onto the floor, she said, ‘I have to go. Goodbye, Mitchell,’ and she put down the phone on his soft ‘Goodbye.’
That night Kay was up and down to Emily several times as well as helping her mother to the bathroom twice, Leonora being too weak to stand by herself. Kay knew she was going down with the flu now—her headache was blinding, she was cold and shivery but her
skin was clammy to the touch, and everything was a huge effort. By morning she felt so ill she didn’t know how she was going to cope, and she just prayed Georgia wouldn’t get sick.
The morning passed in a haze of fixing hot drinks, dispensing medicines and checking Emily’s temperature, and when the telephone rang downstairs as she was staggering to the bathroom with Emily in her arms Kay felt too exhausted to even call and ask who it was when she heard Georgia talking to someone.
She was tucking Emily back in bed when Georgia appeared at her side. ‘That was Mitchell,’ Georgia said importantly. ‘I said everyone was poorly except me, and he said I’ve got to help you. What shall I do?’
Kay lay down on Georgia’s bed, next to Emily’s, for a moment or two as the room spun. ‘Just be a good girl,’ she whispered weakly, ‘and play with your toys until I get your lunch in a minute.’
She was aware of Georgia nodding and then scampering out of the room, and she shut her eyes, willing the dizziness to pass. It seemed like the next second when she heard voices downstairs but she knew she must have been dozing. She forced her leaden limbs to obey her, sitting up and then swinging her legs over the side of the narrow bed before she rose and tottered towards the door. She was hanging onto the door knob like grim death, the landing a kaleidoscope of rotating colour when a deep voice said, ‘What the…?’ a moment before she felt herself lifted right off her feet.
‘Mitchell.’ Kay was aware she was clutching at him but the dark face above hers was barely in focus. ‘I feel so ill.’
Leonora was calling from the other bedroom, obviously wondering what was going on, and now Kay said frantically, ‘She mustn’t get out of bed; she’ll fall and hurt herself.’
Mitchell didn’t answer this except to shout, ‘Henry! Get up here,’ making Kay wince as the sound reverberated in her brain and made it rattle.
She heard Mitchell tell Henry to go and reassure her mother everything was all right—although what her mother would make of a strange man entering her bedroom, Kay didn’t know—but with Mitchell here taking charge she suddenly felt so utterly helpless, so weak and drained, it was too much effort to keep her eyes open. He was holding her next to his chest, his strength and vitality tiring in itself, and then she felt herself placed on Georgia’s bed again and he said, ‘Lie there, Kay, and don’t move. I’m going to have a word with Leonora,’ just before he added, ‘It’s okay, little one, Mummy’s just a little sick like you,’ as Emily began to cry.
Kay struggled into a sitting position, holding out her arms as she said, ‘Pass her to me, Mitchell, please.’
She sat cradling Emily to her as she heard voices in the bedroom next door but it was too much effort to try and distinguish what was being said. If Mitchell would be prepared to stay for just an hour or two so she could sleep a while she would be all right, Kay told herself. It was the combination of a sleepless night on top of the flu that had knocked her for six.
She came to with a start a little while later, staring bleary-eyed at Mitchell, who had just marched into the room. ‘Everything’s settled,’ he said briskly, reaching down for Emily who was fast asleep on Kay’s lap. ‘You’re coming home with me.’
‘What?’ She was still in one of the weird catnap dreams she’d been having since the flu hit; she had to be. He couldn’t really have said what she’d thought he’d said.
She saw him hand the still-sleeping Emily to Henry, who had appeared in the doorway, and then he turned back to her, saying, ‘Georgia and Emily will need a couple of changes of clothing and their night things. Where are they?’
‘Mitchell.’ She struggled to get the words past the cotton wool in her head. ‘I’m not going anywhere. What are you talking about?’
‘I’m taking you all to my place.’ It was not an invitation, more of a decree.
‘No way.’ She wasn’t that ill. ‘I’ve far too much to do here for Christmas.’
‘Christmas has been moved.’ He eyed her impatiently. ‘All the presents you and your mother had hidden from the twins are in the back of my car concealed under a blanket. There’s also some of their toys from their toy boxes so they’ve got something to play with over the next couple of days. Once we’ve packed their clothes we’re done.’
Done? Done? Was he mad? ‘My mother, our clothes…’ she said weakly.
‘All in the car.’
‘You’ve put my mother in your car?’ she said faintly.
‘Not in the boot with the other things,’ he qualified with dry amusement at her horrified tone.
If she hadn’t have felt so rotten she would have glared at him. ‘Her pills—’
‘I’ve told you, all taken care of,’ he said with the touch of irritation she’d noticed on other occasions when he considered she was labouring a point. He had walked across to the twins’ wardrobe as they’d been speaking, opening it and taking various clothes, underwear and night attire from the hanging space and shelves inside. ‘That’ll do.’ He put the mound on Emily’s bed. ‘Where’s a suitcase?’
‘There’s a big sports bag on top of the wardrobe,’ she answered in a whisper, her throat hurting badly. She couldn’t argue with him, she didn’t have the strength, but she couldn’t believe this was happening, and with her mother’s consent too. Consent? She dared bet her mother nearly bit his hand off, so quickly did she agree to Mitchell’s offer. They’d certainly tied it all up tight while she’d been dozing.
‘I’ll take this bag to the car and come back for you,’ he said quietly, looking down at her with unfathomable eyes once the clothes were packed.
‘We…we surely can’t all fit in,’ she murmured.