It Started With... Collection. Miranda Lee

It Started With... Collection - Miranda Lee


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      ‘Actually, yes, I do. I’ve been instructed to buy one for my niece for Christmas. She’s about the same age as your Emily. Maybe we could go Christmas shopping together.’

      She slanted him a wry smile. ‘You planning on seducing me amongst the soft-toy section of Sydney’s biggest department store? Save yourself the price of a dinner?’

      He laughed. ‘I can’t see any man seducing you on the cheap, Jessie.’

      ‘One did. Once,’ she added tartly. ‘And I ended up with Emily.’

      ‘So I’m being punished for some other man’s misdeeds, am I?’

      ‘Let’s just say I look before I leap these days. But you’re out of luck. Dora bought Emily’s doll for me last Saturday. So you’ll have to go Felicity Fairy shopping by yourself. A word of advice, however. Do it soon or there won’t be any left to buy.’

      ‘I’ll do that. We’re getting close to Roseville. I might need some directions soon.’

      Jessie glanced at her watch again. ‘We’ll only just make it in time.’

      ‘What happens if you’re late?’

      ‘There are penalty rates for every quarter of an hour you keep them waiting after six o’clock.’

      ‘That’s rough. What if there was an accident and the traffic was backed up for miles?’

      ‘Indeed,’ she said drily. ‘That’s why I’ll be catching the train in future. But it gives you a little inkling of the stresses and strains of being a working mother. Not much time left over for extra-curricular activities, either. Take the next corner on the left. The day-care centre is four blocks down, on the left. It’s cement-rendered, painted pale blue. You can’t miss it.’

      ‘Would you go to work if you didn’t have to?’ he asked as he swung round the corner.

      ‘I don’t have to work. I could stay at home on welfare. But I don’t think that’s much of an example to Emily as she grows up. I think if you can work, you should. On top of that, it’s nice to have some extra money. Welfare sucks, I can tell you.’

      ‘What if you were married, and your husband earned a good income? Would you work then?’

      Jessie laughed. ‘I don’t indulge in futile fantasies, Kane.’

      ‘I was thinking of my brother’s wife, Lisa. She’s been a stay-at-home mum for over four years. I thought she was happy but she’s not. I advised her this weekend to get a baby-sitter in a bit more often and join a gym. But I have a feeling that’s just a temporary solution. I think she needs more.’

      ‘She should find a good day-care centre and go back to work, even if it’s only part-time. Or do some voluntary work, if she doesn’t need the money. She needs adult company occasionally. And challenges outside of motherhood and wifery.’

      ‘Yes,’ Kane said. ‘That’s good advice. Thanks, Jessie. You might just have saved my brother’s marriage for a second time. Aah, there’s the place. And it’s still only two minutes to six. We’ve made it!’

      ‘Only just,’ Jessie said, scrambling out of the car as soon as Kane slid into the kerb. ‘Thanks a lot, Kane. Please don’t wait. You’ve been very kind but you can go home now. It’s only a ten-minute walk for me and Emily from here. We’ll be fine. Bye. See you tomorrow.’

      She didn’t wait for him to argue with her, just slammed the passenger door and dashed inside.

      Kane stared after her, then broke into a wry grin.

      ‘You don’t get rid of me as easy as that, honey,’ he muttered.

      Switching off the car engine, he climbed out from behind the wheel and walked around to the pavement, where he leant against the passenger door, folded his arms and waited patiently for Jessie to return.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SHE emerged after only two minutes, leading a little clone of herself by the hand. Black curly hair. Pale skin. Square jaw.

      Jessie’s expression, when she saw him waiting for her by his car, was a mixture of surprise and irritation. Her daughter’s big brown eyes carried curiosity and delight.

      Introductions were made rather reluctantly, with Jessie calling him Mr Marshall.

      Emily gave him an odd look. Some of the delight had gone out of her eyes. ‘Are you my mummy’s new boss?’ she asked. ‘The one who made her late?’

      ‘I am,’ Kane confessed. ‘But I’m going to make it up to you both by driving you home, then ordering a couple of pizzas to eat for dinner so that Mummy doesn’t have to cook tonight.’

      He’d opened both passenger doors invitingly whilst delivering this plan for the evening to a frowning Emily. When he glanced up at Jessie to find out her reaction, a rather strange smile was playing on her generous mouth.

      ‘Is there a problem with that idea?’ he asked, looking from mother to daughter.

      ‘Mummy won’t let me go in any car that hasn’t got a proper car seat,’ Emily announced primly whilst Mummy just kept on smiling. ‘And Mummy won’t let me eat pizzas. She says they’re rubbish.’

      ‘Aah. Headed off at the pass,’ Kane muttered. ‘Calls for right-flank action. OK, how about I walk home with you and Mummy? That way I’ll know where you live for future reference. Then I can come back and get the car whilst you find out from your mummy what I can buy you both for dinner.’

      ‘We always eat with Dora on a Monday,’ the little powerhouse of information countered. ‘Today is a Monday. Isn’t that right, Mummy?’

      ‘Yes, sweetie,’ her mother said. With great satisfaction in her voice, Kane noted ruefully.

      ‘Checkmate, I think,’ Jessie added with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

      Kane’s teeth clenched hard in his jaw. He’d see those eyes glitter for a different reason one day. Or he wasn’t the guy voted most likely to succeed!

      ‘Is that the correct metaphor?’ he asked, his soft voice belying his hard resolve. ‘Besides, chess is just a game. This is war. I will reconsider my tactics on the way to your house.’

      Slamming the car doors, he zapped the lock, slipped the keys in his trouser pocket, then faced the enemy with one of his how-to-win-friends-and-influence-people smiles.

      ‘May I carry your bag for you, little lady?’ he offered, reaching for the small backpack which Emily had been dragging along the pavement.

      ‘I can carry my own bag, thank you very much,’ she informed him pertly. Although she needed her mother’s help to put it on.

      Kane slanted Jessie a droll look. ‘A new feminist in training?’

      ‘No. An independent spirit. Everyone needs to be one of those these days to survive.’

      ‘You could be right. OK, how about you carry the bag, Emily, but I’ll carry you?’

      Without waiting for her next objection, Kane hoicked Emily up to sit on his shoulders, one leg on each side of his head. She really was very light, even with a bag on her back.

      ‘You wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll hold your feet,’ he told her. But when he grabbed her sandal-clad feet, a shower of sand sprayed down the front of his designer suit.

      ‘What the…?’

      ‘Emily spends a good deal of each afternoon in the sandpit,’ Jessie explained without any apologies.

      ‘Right,’ Kane said through gritted teeth.

      ‘It’ll brush off easily


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