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'I want to pinch myself, I'm so happy,' Penny said later that night as she stood beside James's cot and watched him sleep.
'I know, Penny,' Amy said quietly. 'But don't you think you should leave him to sleep now? You haven't let him out of your sight since the policewoman brought him back. You've moved his cot into your bedroom. I can understand how you feel, but I'm not sure it's such a good idea. You are going to have to leave him, some time.'
Penny turned. 'It's all right, Amy, I know. Only just not yet, hmm?'
'Come on into the kitchen and I'll make you a cup of my superior hot chocolate and marshmallow—sinfully fattening but guaranteed to please...'
'Oh, my! An offer I can't refuse,' Penny chuckled, and, bending to press one more kiss on her son's brow, she followed Amy out of the bedroom.
Three hours later Penny lay curled up on her side in bed, her eyes fixed on the sleeping child barely a foot away in his cot. She was bone-tired after the trauma of the past twenty-four hours, but sleep was elusive.
She knew that James was fine; he had been thoroughly checked by the police doctor and Dr Brown. In fact he did not seem to have been affected at all by his experience. He had called the woman who'd kidnapped hi
m 'Auntie' and had apparently played with dozens of toys.
Penny knew that she should be grateful that the woman had looked after him so well, and she had told the police that she did not want to press charges. Unfortunately it was not up to her. The Crown Prosecution Service insisted that the woman had to be charged but had said she would be treated leniently—probably made to take psychiatric help, which Penny knew would be for the woman's own good.
The reason for her sleeplessness was much more complex. It could have turned out much worse. She could have lost James for good; he could have died. The abduction of James had made her question her own mortality, and made her face up to the fact that, if anything— God forbid!—happened to her, her child would be alone in the world.
She had, after long months of anguish, managed to come to terms with Raul's rejection. He had never loved her; he had callously used her, nothing more... With James's birth she had dismissed any notion of telling Raul. James was her much loved baby and she alone was responsible for him. But now the past came back to haunt her, and she was no longer so sure that she had done the right thing.
She remembered the last humiliating meeting with Raul and walking out, but the next few weeks she had lived in a feverish whirl, determined to forget him.
The very next week Penny had sold her apartment to the buyer Amy had mentioned. The man worked for the National Geographic Society and had spent the past three years on a research and survey expedition in the Antarctic. Penny had simply wanted to get out of the city where she had suffered her worst humiliation. It had all worked out rather well.
She and Amy had spent the following weekend in Cornwall, attending Mike and Tanya's wedding in Tanya's home town of Helston. They had driven through the picturesque town of Royal Harton and noticed the 'For Sale' sign on an empty pharmacy in the market square. Old stone and quaint, it was the ideal place to launch Sense and Sensibility. On the way back from the wedding they had enquired about the business, and within another couple of weeks had bought it. Then they'd moved in.
Penny stirred restlessly on the bed. It had all seemed so perfect; she had admitted her fear to Amy that she might be pregnant and Amy had been wonderful about it. Being strictly honest, Penny had already suspected that she was pregnant when she had proposed to Raul. Otherwise she would never have done it. She knew the exact night her beloved son had been conceived—the only time Raul had lost control, the night of their first argument, in Dubai.
She glanced at the sleeping child, her heart full of love, and something more—something she did not want to recognise. Guilt. Regret, maybe. In the light of the past twenty-four hours, she was forced to question her right to deprive James of his father... Still—she yawned widely, her eyelids drooping—her son was safe and there was no hurry to decide one way or another.
But in that she was wrong...
I'll open the shop this morning,' Amy said as the three of them sat around the small breakfast table in the cheerful pine kitchen. James, in his high chair, was shovelling mashed banana and cereal in his mouth with chubby fingers, the spoon lying neglected by his Beatrix Potter bowl.
Penny smiled at his antics and agreed. 'If you don't mind.'
'My pleasure, Penny; you spend the day with James. After all, I'm hardly likely to be inundated with prescriptions.'
‘That's true.' Penny frowned.
'Cheer up. We will be fine, and Doris is coming in as usual so you have nothing to worry about.'
Doris was their one full-time employee—a young local girl and an absolute gem. She had a gift for picking stock that would appeal to the tourists—a godsend since the new medical centre had opened with its own pharmacy attached and had taken a lot of their trade. The prescription side of the business had halved in the past few months and really no longer warranted two pharmacists.
But, luckily for Sense and Sensibility, from Easter to October the tourists flocked to Cornwall, outnumbering the residents about a hundred to one, so the profit margin had not dropped too much. But it was still a worry.
Penny spent a hectic morning with James; the first post delivered hundreds of letters of sympathy and support along with a host of toys, mostly cuddly. The apartment had a separate front door from the shop and the doorbell seemed to ring every five minutes with another gift from a well-wisher. Penny was overwhelmed by the generosity of complete strangers and was rapidly getting worn out running up and down the stairs to answer the door.
Grasping James firmly around the middle and pinning him to her hip, she raced downstairs yet again. James thought it was a huge joke and that all his birthdays had come at once. Penny was not so sure. But when she opened the door she had to laugh.
One of the BBC cameramen of the day before was standing with the most enormous cuddly panda in his arms. Apparently the whole crew had had a whip round and bought it for James. Thanking him profusely, and brushing the happy tears from her eyes, she struggled back upstairs, trailing the enormous panda and James.
Luckily, by the time James was ready for his lunch and afternoon nap, the callers had tailed off. Washed and fed, and with a cot overflowing with toys, James blew bubbles up at her as she leaned over his cot and pressed a swift kiss on his cherubic face. 'I love you, baby,' she murmured, and was rewarded with a beatific if sleepy smile.
'Love Mamma,' James said happily.
It never ceased to amaze Penny how clever her son was. He had said his first word at nine months and now almost spoke in sentences. Puffed up with maternal pride, she watched him until he slept, and then reluctantly left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the living room.
