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“I said I can manage,” I snap.
“I heard.” He opens the door and strides across the threshold. “Are you coming in or do you mean to stand out there all day, letting my daughter freeze to death?”
“She’s not your daughter,” I mutter as I scuttle past him. “She’s mine.”
“Ah. Like that, is it?” He deposits the shopping bag on the living room carpet. “You’ll be needing these.” He hands me the pack of nappies.
Needs must. I snatch them, then lay my baby on the sofa to get her cleaned up.
Jack watches in silence. He seems mesmerised. “What’s her name?” he asks.
“None of your business,” I hiss. “I want you to go now.”
“That won’t be happening. I’m here to meet my daughter.”
“I just told you…”
“Don’t piss me off, Ruth. What’s her name, and why am I only just finding out about her?”
“I don’t want you here.”
“I’m not interested in what you want.”
I round on him. “I know that. You made it clear when you walked out. You never looked back, and not a word since.”
“I sent your stuff.”
“Big deal. No phone number. No ‘how are you doing?’ Anyone would think you don’t give a fuck. Oh, right. You don’t, do you?”
“Ruth, it’s not that simple. You know how—”
“Fuck you, Jack Morgan. Fuck you, and fuck your scary, murdering boss.” I grab my baby and rush out of the room. “Just do me a favour and get out.”
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. I never imagined he might. He follows me up the stairs at a more leisurely pace then hovers in the doorway to my bedroom.
I sweep the tears from my face and glare at him. “Morgan,” I spit.
He smiles at me. “Are we no longer on first-name terms, then?”
“Not you, you idiot. Her.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Her name is Morgan,” I repeat.
His smile widens at the implication. “A good name. May I hold her?”
I nod and hand her to him. “She needs changing. Again.”
He is unfazed. “Hello, beautiful. I’m your daddy.”
I don’t contradict him this time. What would be the point? And in any case, it’s the truth.
Jack
I persuade her to bring Morgan back downstairs. After all, that’s where the nappies are.
“What happened with the police?” I ask, once baby Morgan is cleaned and fed. The sight of Ruth nestled on her sofa feeding my child was something I had never anticipated. It was beautiful.
