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Angelia starts crying again, and I shake my head. “We’ll stop off and get them. We passed a retail park when we came in. I’m sure there was a Halfords there.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Come on.”
I was right and in no time, we have purchased two car seats, much to Brad’s disgust as he complains that he’s not a baby, but he soon stops as his aunt glares at him and says tightly, “Be quiet, Brad. It’s the law and I will be forced to arrest Robert if he drives out of here without you in this seat.”
Brad looks impressed. “Will he go to prison?”
“Yes.” Jessica nods and immediately backtracks as Angelina begins to cry and says adorably, “I don’t want wobert to go to prison.”
“It’s ok, we’ve got the seats now, nobody’s going to prison.”
As we set off, she whispers, “I’m exhausted already.”
She looks it and I’m concerned about her because surely, it’s no big deal being asked to pick up your niece and nephew from school. To be honest, I’m quite enjoying doing something different for once and as Jessica directs me to their home, I wonder if I would make a good dad. I like to think I would but I’m hoping it won’t be as exhausting as this, and as I slide a quick glance in Jessica’s direction, I would be more than happy if she was the one I made them with.
* * *
Jessica directsme to a smart street, not far from the school, and I gaze at the tree-lined pavements with interest. It’s nothing like I imagined, and I wonder what her sister’s husband does for a living because these houses look new.
She directs me to a driveway, a third of the way down, and we pull up outside a white New England style house with a giant wreath on the painted door. There are a few Christmas wicker animals in the front garden that I’m positive must light up at night and I’m intrigued to see inside a home that appears well cared for.
The children scramble from their seats and Jessica sighs. “Thanks. Hopefully I’ll be in tomorrow, but I may be a little late.”
“Why?”
I watch the children shoving each other at the front door and Jessica says quickly, “Well, Sally may not be back tonight and until I locate my mother to relieve me from my duty, it appears that I’m stuck with playing surrogate parent.”
She looks so worried, I immediately know something is up, so I unfasten my seatbelt and growl, “Let’s go.”
I open the door and she says in a hard whisper, “What are you doing?”
“Helping.” I grin as I slam the car door and head up the driveway towards the fighting children and Jessica joins me with what can only be described as gratitude in her eyes, before fumbling in her bag and pulling out a bunch of keys.
We step inside a home that appears warm and welcoming and it’s not only from the burst of warm air that greets us, taking away the chill of the wind outside.
Jessica cries out, “Take off your shoes and go and change out of your uniforms. I’ll make you some drinks.”
The children race upstairs and I follow Jessica into a light and airy kitchen and stare around with interest. Unlike my own, this one is warmer somehow, more lived in, I suppose. The Christmas tree stands proudly by the patio doors that lead onto the garden and there are brightly coloured paintings attached to a giant American fridge with an assortment of magnets. A breakfast bar divides the working space from the recreational one and all around are homely touches that tell me this house is loved. Pictures on the wall are of the children on canvas, making the most personal type of art. I notice one of their family and peer with interest at the parents of the two children, noting the similarity between Jessica and the woman smiling sweetly at the man beside her.
“Is this your sister?” I point to it and Jessica nods.
“Yes, that’s Sally and Anton, her husband.”
“She looks a lot like you, but with curly hair.”
“She had that done for the photo. To be honest, she is like me to look at, but that’s where the similarity ends.”
She busies herself with making us all a hot drink and I sit on one of the barstools and enjoy watching her work. I can tell she’s on edge, and I lower my voice. “If there’s anything bothering you, you can tell me. I’m a good listener.”
“It’s fine.” She pastes a bright smile on her face and says in a falsely cheerful voice, “Nothing to worry about. I’m only helping my sister.” Her phone rings and she almost jumps on it and says quickly, “Sorry, I won’t be long.”
As she hurries from the room, I can’t help myself and, heading to the door, I shamelessly listen in on the conversation she is having in the hallway.
“It’s fine, they’re fine. We’re at your house now.”
There’s silence as the other person speaks and then Jessica says abruptly, “It’s not my fault. They are busy people and can’t drop everything to help you.”
