The Accidental Mother (27 page)

Bella studied Sophie’s face as she thought about what she said. “Do you like us now?” she asked after a beat. “Me and Izzy, I mean.”

Sophie laughed. “Of course I do, I
love
you now!” She realized it was true as she said it.

“Good.” Bella clambered to her feet. “Because I suppose I love you too.”

She held out a hand, and Sophie let the six-year-old think she was hauling her to her feet.

“Thank you, Aunty Sophie,” Bella said, as Sophie stamped her numb foot a few times.

“For what?” Sophie said.

“For bringing me here to see the painting. I don’t know why. But I feel better now I’ve seen it. I feel sort of—lighter.”

“I’m glad,” Sophie said, with palpable relief. “I truly am. Come on, let’s go to the gift shop.”

“Oooh,” Bella said. “Are we going to buy an eraser?”

There were no posters of Ben Nicholson’s painting
St. Ives Version Two
(1940) and no postcards either. The only reproduction that Sophie could find was in a huge yellow book about him published by Phaidon with a price that she assumed was calculated in direct proportion to the tome’s enormous weight and bulk.

“That’s a lot of money for one picture, especially considering that I’m planning to rip it out,” she told the young man behind the counter, who propped his chin on his shoulder as he watched her consider the purchase, the book open at the painting.

“Not a huge Nicholson fan then, no?” he said, giving Sophie his best cute smile as she glanced up at him. She bit her lip and shook her head, so that a strand of her yellow hair fell over one eye.

“I am,” Bella said, standing on tiptoes so that she could peer over the counter. “But I’ve only got fifty-seven pence.”

The man nodded at her. “Cool,” he said to Sophie. “Cool kid—yours?” He looked back up at Sophie, who was slightly flushed, her long hair tousled and a little wild.

“Er no,” she said, considering the question a little personal.

“Ah, so you’re sort of a mentor. Cool,” the young man, probably a student, said again. He glanced around the near-empty shop. “Look, hang on a minute.” And he took the book and vanished.

In his absence two tourists joined the line, and after a minute or two one began tapping her foot.

“He’ll be back soon,” Bella told the tourist quite sternly. She stopped tapping. At last the cashier returned and handed Sophie a tube.

“Color photocopies of your painting,” he told her, leaning over the counter so that his cheek was close to hers. “Pretty good quality too, and I enlarged them. They’re on me.” He straightened up again and looked down at Bella. “You can start saving for the book. I reckon you’ll be able to afford it by 2010.” He winked at Sophie. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’ll get shot, and then I’ll never finish college.”

Sophie smiled warmly at him and noticed that he was a kindred spirit in the skin department at least, as both of his cheeks flushed a deep red in an instant.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “That’s really kind.”

“Not that kind,” the man said. “I made you two copies. My phone number’s on the back of one. Maybe you’ll call me sometime?”

“Er, thank you,” Sophie said one last time.

That was very nice of him, she thought. But quite honestly, she just couldn’t think of a reason why she would ever call him.

“He liked you,” Bella told her as they emerged into the chill of the dark afternoon.

Sophie laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she said.

“Oh, Aunty Sophie,” Bella said pityingly. “No wonder you haven’t got a boyfriend. Lots of men like you, and you don’t seem to notice!”

Sophie stopped and looked down at Bella. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“That Jake, anyone could tell he was in love with you, following you around, helping us home when we’d been shopping that time.”

Sophie smiled and felt a gush of warmth toward Jake. “Yes,” she said. “That was nice, wasn’t it.”

“And most men look at you when we’re out. Even
he
thinks you’re pretty.”

“Who?”

Bella looked up at her and shrugged. “Even Louis thinks you’re pretty—it’s obvious.”

Sophie laughed and shook her head. “And why do you think that?” she asked her, only because if Bella was so delusional about Louis, there was a chance she could be wrong about Jake.

“Because,” Bella said, “whenever you’re not looking at him, he looks at you, and when you do look at him, he has to try really hard not to look away.”

“Oh,” Sophie said. “Really? I mean, nonsense!”

It was foolish, but for some reason that piece of information started a flutter in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m not saying he loves you or anything, like Jake does,” Bella said bluntly. “In fact, he probably thinks you’re quite bossy and rude. But he definitely must think you’re really pretty, or else he wouldn’t look at you and not look at you.”

“We’re going to be late,” Sophie said, hurriedly picking up Bella’s hand and starting to walk again. She didn’t want to think the thoughts that the girl’s offhand comment had stirred up. She wanted to think about Jake carrying all their bags home on the bus instead.

When they got home, Sophie unrolled the two copies of the painting, separated one, and smoothed it out on the table.

“When things have settled a bit,” she said, “I’ll put this in a frame for you. But for now—” Bella followed Sophie into the bedroom, where she tacked the picture onto the wardrobe opposite the end of the bed. “Now you’ll be able to look at the painting whenever you like,” Sophie said. “And you’ll be able to think about your mum whenever you like. And you can be sad when you think about her and you can be happy. Both are allowed.”

Bella nodded and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. “I think I’ll do a drawing,” she said, and Sophie breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed as if she had done the right thing after all.

Sophie was engaging the new-to-her art of preparing fresh vegetables when Louis and Izzy came in. She had expected to hear Izzy’s hollering long before the three-year-old arrived, but instead Louis just appeared behind her in the kitchen doorway so that when Sophie turned to put the handful of peelings she was holding in the bin, he made her jump. Izzy was fast asleep in his arms.

“The downstairs door wasn’t shut properly, and your flat door was on the latch,” he said by way of explanation, looking wary of making her cross again. “Shall I put her in the bedroom?”

“No, just put her on the sofa for now,” she whispered.

He deposited the child carefully and came back into the kitchen, where Sophie was peering at the never previously used cookery book. She was attempting lamb stew. It was difficult already, but Louis’s presence in the tiny room was making it near impossible. She shut the book with a snap and turned around to look at him. “How did it go?” she asked quickly, feeling the need to breathe in to maintain the foot or so distance between them.

“Great,” Louis said, a slow smile spreading across his face as he reflected on the day. “Really great, but my God, she’s a real live wire isn’t she?” He chuckled. “I thought we were going to get thrown out at one point.”

Sophie smiled at him. “Yeah, been there,” she told him. “Frequently.”

“But she loved it,” he said. “She thought it was magic, I mean real magic. It must be great to still truly believe in magical things. It’s a shame really that one day she has to find out it’s not true.”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Carrie always believed in the magical, she even saw it in all the mundane things around her. I think Izzy will probably be just the same.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, and Sophie realized belatedly that she was still holding her cutting knife rather aggressively.

“I’ll be off,” Louis said, looking rather uncomfortable as Sophie gazed at the potential weapon in her hand with some surprise.

“Oh, okay—right. Well, bye then,” she said.

“If you like, you could have tea here.” It was Bella.

She stood in the doorway and looked up at Louis.

“Really?” he said cautiously. “With you, you mean.”

“And Izzy and Sophie too,” Bella said. “Obviously. Although I don’t think we’ll all fit on the kitchen floor.”

“Er—thank you,” Louis said, looking at Sophie.

“That’s okay,” Bella said. And she went back into the living room and turned on the TV. Her slumbering sister didn’t even stir.

“You might not want to stay for tea actually,” Sophie said, feeling foolish and suddenly nervous.

Louis’s face fell. “Oh, right, well, if you think it’s a terrible idea—too soon and all that—I suppose—” he began.

“Oh no,” Sophie said, smiling at him. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s just that—Well, I really can’t cook.”

“Well, that’s lucky then, because I can. Move over.”

For the first time ever, Louis got Izzy ready for bed, and although she still didn’t allow him to do anything for her, Bella let him read Izzy a bedtime story in the bedroom as she sat on the sofa and finally finished her fairy pony story for Sophie.

“The end,” Bella said, looking very satisfied.

“That was wonderful,” Sophie said sincerely.

“I know,” Bella said. As Louis came into the living room, Bella went out, pausing to say a formal good night on the way. Louis sat down on the sofa next to Sophie, uninvited and much more relaxed than he had been in the morning.

She edged away from him, suddenly feeling self-conscious for some reason.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Louis told Sophie. “I owe you so much, and I hardly even know you.” Sophie just shrugged. “Except I feel as if I’ve always known you—through Carrie I mean,” he added hurriedly.

“Oh well, you know…,” she said awkwardly.

Sophie remembered Tess telling her how important it was to stay friends with Louis, but somehow, the more she liked him the harder that seemed to be. And Bella telling her that Louis must think she was pretty had made things worse, shifted whatever kind of fledgling relationship she might have with him, so that she felt nervous and unsettled.

As if sensing that discomfort, Louis stood up and went to look out at the traffic rushing by.

“There’s two weeks until Tess files her report and the court makes a decision. It seems like too long and not long enough at the same time. Do you know what I mean?”

Sophie nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I don’t know what to do next,” Louis confessed. “I thought it would be easy, like it was with the kids in Lima, but although I cared about those kids, a lot, I didn’t love them, they weren’t part of me. I’m so frightened of messing up this chance with Bella that I keep thinking I’ll do or say something stupid every time I see her.” He looked at Sophie and smiled. “It’s a bit like falling in love.”

“Well,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I did have an idea today. One that would have to involve all of us to work. But I think there is a way we can finally get Bella to completely relax and open up. And a way of settling Izzy too.”

Louis turned and studied Sophie’s face carefully. “Really?” he asked. “Tell me.”

“Well.” She paused. “I think we should use these two weeks to take the girls back to St. Ives for a visit,” she said, scarcely believing her own ears. “I mean, you have to go down there anyway, don’t you, to find a place to live and a job, so I think we should all go, a sort of a halfway visit. I think you and I should take them home.”

They were still discussing how and when, when Jake arrived.

“Jake!” Sophie beamed her best hostess smile at him as she led him up the stairs.

“You haven’t forgotten I was coming, have you?” he joked.

“Don’t be silly,” Sophie said guiltily enough to make him look at her sharply.

She led him into the front room, where Louis was already standing with his jacket in his hand. If Louis seemed to fill up the small room, two men in it made Sophie feel like she could only hover in the doorway. Jake and Louis looked at each other.

“You’re the father,” Jake said pleasantly, leaning forward and offering a hand accompanied by his all-American smile.

“Louis Gregory,” Louis said. He raised an eyebrow at Sophie, who had been somewhat distracted by the sight of two very good-looking men standing next to her sofa.

“Oh, er, sorry, Louis, this is Jake, my…friend,” Sophie said with an apologetic shrug. The men shook hands quickly and then withdrew, each taking a step back. A bit like pistols at dawn, Sophie thought.

Louis stood up straighter, so that he edged above Jake by a couple of inches. Jake seemed to broaden his shoulders and puffed himself out like Artemis when she was cross.

There was a long moment of silence when nobody moved. Somehow a casual meeting that should have been brief and meaningless seemed charged with tension.

Jake was the first to move. He held out a bag to Sophie. “I picked us up a couple of bottles of Pinot Grigio,” he said, with slight emphasis on the word
us.

“I love Italian wine,” Louis said.

Sophie looked at him. “Oh? Well. Do you want to stay and have a glass?” she asked him, compulsively well-mannered.