Playing Nice

NEXT MORNING I PUT Theo into the car and drove over to Highgate. It was a fiddly, crosstown journey, complicated by having to get through at least half a dozen school drop-off zones. A drive that had taken less than twenty minutes on a Saturday took almost forty in rush hour.

Lucy came to the door in an elegant pair of designer jeans and a knee-length woolen cardigan. “Pete,” she said warmly. “How lovely to see you. And hello there, Theo.”

“?’SMoles here?” Theo asked hopefully.

She laughed. “No, he’s at work. That’s what daddies do.” She stopped. “Sorry, Pete. I didn’t mean…”

“That’s all right. Are you really sure this is okay? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“No, it’s wonderful. Tania’s been baking fat-free cakes for them both. Come in and say hello.”

“Tania?” I said, puzzled, as I followed her through to the kitchen.

“The nanny. Tania, this is Theo, and Theo’s dad, Pete.”

A dark-haired young woman turned toward us from the Aga. She was wearing oven gloves and carrying a baking tray, but she immediately put the tray down and took her hand out of the glove to shake mine. “Pleased to meet you,” she said politely, in French-accented English. She even gave me a little bob.

I looked at Lucy. “I thought Michaela was the nanny.” In the car I’d been keeping Theo’s morale up by speculating about what crazy games he and Mika would be playing today.

“We had to let her go. Miles was furious with her, actually.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“He doesn’t like the nannies being glued to their phone screens when they’re being paid to look after David. And he doesn’t let them use the coffeemaker whenever they feel like it—they have Nescafé and the internet in their bedroom, for when they’re not working. Anyway, last week he saw Michaela on the nannycam, drinking a cappuccino and scrolling through social media. So of course she had to go.”

“You have a nannycam?”

Lucy nodded. “You have to, really, don’t you? It’s not that you even need to look at it very often. Miles says it’s just about making sure you can trust them to stick to the rules.”

I looked around. I could see a cappuccino maker—a more expensive model than mine—but no camera. Miles must have hidden it, I realized.

“Right, Theo. Better be on your best behavior,” I said brightly. “Somebody might be watching you, so think about that.”

Slightly self-consciously, I went into the playroom and squatted down next to where David was sitting on the floor. “Hi, David.”

His eyes turned toward me curiously. Maddie’s eyes, the exact same shape and shade, but without Maddie’s energy, her ever-changing, expressive liveliness. He looked away again.

“What are you up to?” I asked gently. Again, nothing.

“I’ve brought Theo to play with you.” I wasn’t sure if he recognized Theo’s name, or whether it was because Theo just happened to charge in at that moment, but it seemed to me that David shrank back slightly. I patted him on the head. His blond hair was so fine, I could feel the shape of his skull. It was eerily similar to Maddie’s, and so different from Theo’s heavy black curls.

“Well, I’ll see you at twelve thirty,” I said to Theo as I got up. “Remember to play nicely.”

“There’s really no rush,” Lucy said. “By the time you’ve gotten home, you’ll be setting off again. Why doesn’t Theo stay for lunch? Then he can rest in the car on the way back.”

* * *

—

I WENT HOME, BUT it was hard to concentrate. Driving across London had been more tiring than the stroll to the nursery used to be. But it wasn’t just that. I kept thinking of David, sitting in that massive playroom, surrounded by shelves of toys he couldn’t play with. There’d been something shut-in about him, something passive. It would be so easy to ignore a child like that, particularly with a fireball like Theo around.

Our house is small, so once Theo’s grown out of a toy we tend to put it in the attic. I went and found a crate of books he’d enjoyed at eighteen months. Julia Donaldson’s Toddle Waddle, Eric Hill’s Spot stories, Chris Haughton’s Shh! We Have a Plan. I pulled out some with sliders, flaps, and other gizmos, too.

When I went back that afternoon, I showed Lucy. “Theo doesn’t read these anymore, but I thought David might like them.”

She looked at them doubtfully. “He’s not a big reader, I’m afraid.”

“Of course not,” I said patiently. “But he might like me to read to him.”

I went and sat down next to David in the playroom.

“Look, David,” I said gently, holding up We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. His eyes turned toward it. Theo would have snatched it out of my hands in an instant, as a prelude to either hurling it away, if he wasn’t interested, or hitting me with it until I read it, if he was. David did neither. Instead, he reached out and touched it experimentally with his fingers.

Opening it, I started at the first page. “?‘We’re going on a—’?”

“Mnnneow,” yelled Theo, charging into the playroom with a Lego rocket in each hand, followed by Tania.

“Hi, Theo. I’m just going to read this with David. You can watch if you want.”

“Neow-neow.” Theo crashed the rockets into my head, one after the other.

“Tania, could you take Theo into the other room and help him rebuild his rockets? I just want to finish this story with David.”

“Of course. Come on, Theo.” She led him away.

“?‘We’re going on a bear hunt,’?” I repeated, turning the page.

* * *

—

DAVID SAT RIVETED TO We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, followed by Each Peach Pear Plum and Where’s Spot? When I brought out Dear Zoo he eagerly reached out and turned the flaps to reveal the animals behind them as I read.

“?‘The end,’?” I said at last, closing Dear Zoo and putting it down. I’d done all the noises, though I’d kept the lion’s roar to a quiet purr so as not to startle him.

“That was wonderful,” Lucy’s voice said. “Simply wonderful.”

I looked up. She was filming me on her phone. “Pete, you’re a marvel,” she added.

39

PETE

“PETE, YOU’RE A MARVEL,” Maddie said drily.

I laughed into my phone. “Of course. But how did you know?”

“Lucy’s put a video of you reading to David on Facebook. You can hear her voice behind the camera.”

It was barely four o’clock. “That was quick.”

“Well, I guess one has to do something while the nanny’s getting tea.”

“The nanny looked pretty shell-shocked, actually, after a whole morning of Theo. Speaking of which, Mika’s gone. This one’s called Tania.”

“What’s she like?”

“Seems all right,” I said guardedly. “Theo’s dubbed her Tanner.”

“Well, it’s only a temporary arrangement. I’d better go, my meeting’s about to start.” She paused. “It was lovely seeing you read to David, though. It made me want to reach out and put my arms around you both.”

* * *

—

AT HALF SIX THE doorbell rang. Deliveroo or Miles? I wondered.

It was Miles.

“I left work early this time,” he said cheerfully, stepping through the door. “Hope that’s all right. Ah! There you are, big man. Still up, I see.”

“Only just,” I said. Theo was on the sofa in his pajamas, watching a cartoon.

“Don’t worry, I won’t razz him up. We’ll just sit quietly for a bit. Here. This is for you.” Miles handed me a square package.

“You don’t have to bring us gifts,” I said automatically.

“You gave us all those books. Small gesture of gratitude.”

I opened the box. Inside was an iBaby monitor, one of the expensive ones with a remote-controlled camera.

“It’s the dog’s knackers,” he added. “I have the same model for David. Wi-Fi, 4G, omnidirectional microphone, night vision…It claims the humidity sensor can even alert you when there’s a wet nappy, though I guess that’s not something you need with Theo anymore.”

I lifted the camera out of the box. It was satisfyingly heavy, sleek, and rounded, with the lens part mounted in a kind of gyroscope. “It’s great, Miles, but…Those books were only sitting in the attic.”

“That monitor you’ve got would have been out of date in the Dark Ages. I’ve set it all up for you—just put in your Wi-Fi password and you’re away. It’s nothing, really. And Lucy’s been raving about how good you were with David today. She sent me a link to the video.”

“It was a pleasure,” I said, shrugging.

“Mind you, Theo looked quite put out when you sent him away like that,” he added. He sat down next to Theo, ruffling his hair. “Poor little chap.”

“Theo gets plenty of attention.”

“He’s not used to sharing you, though, is he?” Miles took off his tie and put it in his suit pocket. “You could tell he was—what do they call it?—acting out a bit. What are we watching this evening, Theo?”

“Po’man Pat.”

“I love Postman Pat. Do you know, they had it when I was your age? I bet I already know this one.”

* * *

—

MILES WAS STILL THERE, watching TV, when Maddie got back from work. Theo, sleepy now, had collapsed against him, thumb in mouth. Miles beamed at her.

“Hi Maddie,” he said in a stage whisper. “Our boy’s tired.”

“So I see,” she said in her normal voice. She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle.