Page 79 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Your ex? Oh, my good lord.’ Liz clapped her hands over her mouth. ‘In that case, he’s not coming in, he can sling his hook, that good-for nothing toerag. And to think I was twerking with him yesterday.’

‘The thing is,’ Clare began, her voice shaking, ‘I didn’t tell you the truth about Adam. He knows nothing about Ivy. He didn’t even know I was pregnant and, for now, I’d like to keep it that way.’

Liz’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh Clare.’

‘I’ll tell you the whole story later, I promise.’

‘I see,’ Liz said hoarsely, then she rallied. ‘Whatever you did, you’ll have done for the right reasons, darling. So I’ll be beside you every step of the way.’

Skye hesitated at the door. ‘Me too. Clare, whatever this is, we’re in this together, OK? Shout if you need me.’

Clare looked as white as a sheet. ‘Thanks, sis.’

Sis. Skye scampered up the stairs two at a time, silently pleading with her niece not to start yelling at being parted from her mum.

Clare might be about to face her toughest challenge yet, but for the first time in her life Skye felt like she had a sister – a sister who needed her – and her heart might burst.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Clare

So, here’s the thing. I’m the mother of your child, you have a daughter, you are a dad.

Clare’s heart was pounding so hard that it had almost taken over the throbbing in her arm on the pain scale. She lowered herself into a deckchair and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes.

The idea of Adam being here at Clemency House was too much for her poor brain to cope with.

What should she tell him? Nothing? Everything? Blurt out the truth that she was really sensible Clare Marriott, two Rs, two Ts, and burst the fantasy of their night together? Or could she keep up the pretence of being Sexy Saskia, the professional location scout?

Granted that last one might be a tall order today; braless and bruised, sweat pooling in every crevice around her injured arm, she had greasy hair and puffy skin from too much crying and not enough sleep. Hardly every man’s fantasy – any man’s fantasy, come to that. And then there was the entourage which accompanied Ivy wherever she went: the army of soft toys, the high chair, changing mat and the big pack of nappies at the bottom of the stairs. Would he register all that stuff as Liz brought him through?

Maybe the fact that she looked so awful would work in her favour and he wouldn’t be able to drag his eyes from the horror in front of him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the baby monitor plugged in, lights flashing, right next to the patio doors. It was kept there so they could hear Ivy even when they sat outside at night. Now it could well alert Adam to the presence of a small person in the house. She considered standing up to unplug it, but too late, Liz was showing Adam out onto the patio.

Oh God. Help.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Liz said solemnly. ‘Shout if you need anything.’

‘Hey, stranger!’ Adam’s voice was higher-pitched than Clare remembered it. Or maybe he was nervous. That made two of them.

He stopped a few feet in front of her, phone in one hand, a bunch of keys in the other. He was tanned and well-dressed in a polo shirt, shorts and box-fresh white trainers.

Her heart skipped traitorously; no wonder she’d thrown caution to the wind that night. She’d thought that her memory might have embellished the truth of him during the intervening months. But, no, she’d remembered correctly. He was hot.

‘Hey,’ she replied. She felt a tug in the pit of her stomach.

‘It’s good to see you.’ His mouth curled in a smile.

‘It’s weird to see you.’

He nodded. ‘Weird just about covers it. It’s been a while.’

‘Twenty months.’

His eyes flickered. ‘Very precise.’

‘It’s a skill.’ When you’d been pregnant for nine months and had an eleven-month-old baby, these things tended to stick in your mind. It was also the day her mum had died, a date that would be forever etched in her memory. She was glad she’d been sitting down when he arrived, because he’d have almost certainly noticed how much her legs were trembling.