A Marriage In The Making. Natalie Fox
again, so vexed it makes your own heart cry out. You’ve done so well with him and now—’
‘He’ll be OK,’ Karis reassured her, and smiled warmly at Saffron, who had been such a support to her this last year. ‘Put Tara down in her cot for me and I’ll coax him out, Saffron.’
‘I tried already, tempted him with his favourite pumpkin pie, but it’s no good; he just yowls and yowls. That child needs a doctor, one of them head doctors—’
‘Hush now, Saffron.’ Karis laughed softly, knowing she didn’t mean it and understanding why she said such things at times like this.
Saffron cared about Josh as deeply as Karis did and when Josh was hurting they all hurt, Saffron’s pain manifesting itself more dramatically than Karis’s with suggestions of psychiatrists and, once, voodoo!
‘You know as well as I do what Josh needs,’ Karis added meaningfully.
‘Well, he ain’t going to get it with that one,’ she said, meaning Fiesta and nodding towards the plantation house that was out of sight of the cottage, across the lush tropical gardens. Clutching Tara to her ample breasts, she turned and padded along the verandah, softly crooning to the baby and rocking her gently.
With a soft, long-drawn-out sigh of agreement Karis stepped into the open kitchen, poured herself a glass of water and sipped it slowly to calm herself. No, Josh wouldn’t get what he needed from Fiesta—a stable family life. Fiesta was too busy running her lucrative vacation business to give Josh what he needed.
It had always been a mystery to Karis why the boy was in Fiesta’s care when it was obvious he wasn’t wanted. At first it had crossed her mind that Fiesta might be Josh’s mother, but apparently not. No mother could treat a child with so much indifference, even if he had resulted from an unwanted pregnancy or was the product of a broken marriage. Nevertheless Josh was in Fiesta’s care and even Saffron didn’t know why or how. All Saffron knew was that there was a father somewhere but a mother had never been mentioned.
Karis carefully sliced a chunk of Saffron’s creamy pumpkin pie and poured a glass of milk for Josh in the kitchen. She carried them on a tray out onto the verandah and along to his bedroom which was next to hers, and firmly dispelled the cloud of depression that was promising to settle if she didn’t watch out. Josh needed reassuring and loving and she needed a smile on her face for that.
Karis made no attempt physically or verbally to persuade Josh out from under the bed. Past experience had taught her the task was hopeless. He’d come out when he was ready and she would be there for him, as always. She sat in a cane chair by the open patio doors, the air breezy and sweet with the scent of jasmine, and started to read softly from one of his favourite books, but as she read her mind was drifting elsewhere, reliving that cold, cold glare from the newly arrived stranger.
The man, with his impressive bearing and indisputable good looks, had mesmerised her from her first sight of him, but it hadn’t been a pleasant feeling—more disturbing than anything else. He had appeared to be as cold and hard as honed steel and yet that look of pain when Josh had defected…or had she imagined it?
‘W…w…w…’
‘Deep breaths, Josh,’ Karis suggested gently as she put the book down and lifted the boy onto her lap to cuddle him. He’d been standing looking over her shoulder for ages as she’d read but she hadn’t let on she knew he was there. It had to come from him otherwise it was hopeless. She held his forehead as he leaned back against her, taking deep breaths as she had suggested.
They had come a long way. A year ago, when Karis had arrived with four-month-old baby Tara, the boy had been silent, refusing to speak except to stutter abuse at Fiesta. Karis had been shocked and deeply upset by his behaviour, and shaken by Fiesta’s uncaring attitude towards the troubled boy. It was obvious he was an embarrassment to her in front of her guests and she wanted him out from under her feet and frankly didn’t care who unburdened her.
While in England, promoting her exclusive, private Caribbean island holidays, Fiesta had advertised for a nanny and Karis had applied. Though she had no qualifications, Karis had been desperate enough to try for the job. At the interview Fiesta had said nothing about the boy being a problem child. It had only been when Karis arrived on Levos that she’d found out just what a problem he was and, worse, that apparently she was the latest in a long line of nannies, most highly qualified but unable or unwilling to cope with the appalling little boy.
At first Karis had thought she couldn’t cope herself, not with Tara and the sadness and tragedy of her own past to come to terms with as well. But something about the badly behaved boy had tugged so painfully at her heartstrings that she hadn’t been able to leave. And, strangely, having to care for Josh, having to give so much of herself to gain his confidence, she had found he had unknowingly given her much in return. She had arrived on the island a shadow of her former self, rock-bottom low and with little self-esteem, only to find a very frightened little boy with much the same hang-ups and misery. It had brought her up short. In a child, disturbance and melancholia were all the more tragic. It wasn’t natural for a child to be so deeply unhappy.
So Karis had forced her own self-pity behind her, cared for Josh and her own baby daughter, and made life bearable and as much fun as possible for them all. It had been a long, hard, painful haul to win Josh’s trust, and there were still days when he was difficult, but on the whole he was a much happier child than he had been a year ago and Karis was no longer the shadow of grief she had been when she had arrived.
‘W…will he take me away?’ Josh breathed at last.
Karis held him close, smoothing a hand across his hot brow. ‘Will who take you away?’ she dared to ask, wanting confirmation from him that Daniel was who she thought he was. Fiesta wasn’t at all forthcoming about Josh’s past. Karis had asked her about Josh’s parentage once but a tight-lipped Fiesta had told her to mind her own business and do what she was paid to do: look after the boy.
‘My father,’ Josh blurted. ‘Will he take me away?’
So he was Josh’s father. She had thought so when he had removed his sunglasses. They had the same eyes—cold and inhospitable, suspicious, cautious…and yet there were times when Josh’s eyes showed deep warmth and love and bright humour and perhaps the father had the capability of such emotions in him too. The thought gave a curious twist to her senses.
‘I don’t know,’ Karis admitted truthfully. She was always honest with him because he was too intelligent to be fobbed off with excuses. ‘But I’ll find out what’s going on, Josh,’ she promised, hugging the boy to her.
And she would. Daniel Kennedy, Josh’s father, was on the island and the reason must be to see his son and discuss his future with Fiesta, for surely he didn’t expect the wealthy socialite to look after him indefinitely? And where was Josh’s mother? That Simone certainly wasn’t his mother because Josh would have said if she was.
It was so worrying to Karis. Caring for him every day of their lives, she knew that the child needed a stable home life, preferably with a full set of parents, and though she had done her best a nanny’s best wasn’t enough to carry the child through the rest of his childhood. And when he did go? She, with Tara, would have to move on and carve out another new life for them both because they couldn’t go back. Karis wouldn’t be welcomed back; she didn’t want to go back. She’d learnt a lot here—not least that a simple life was worth a king’s ransom in terms of peace of mind.
‘Can we go to the creek?’ Josh asked tentatively. One hand was curved over his shoulder, twisting a strand of Karis’s jet hair around his fingers as she cuddled him. The small, intimate gesture of confidence and caring for her always pulled at Karis’s heart. She knew that in his way the boy cared very deeply for her and if his father had come to take him away…
It didn’t bear thinking about but a small thought stayed around long enough to have Karis grasping at it with both hands. If his intention was to take the child off the island he would still need a nanny—unless, of course, there was a mother around…but no one knew if one even existed.