Chapter 7

James

In the kitchen, pushing bacon around a pan, I ponder how to square the circle and re-introduce Georgie
and Charlotte. The fact is that Georgie created the whole hornets’ nest herself by being so appallingly
rude, not just to me, but Charlotte too, the first time they met.

But if I truly want any kind of future relationship with my daughter… my elder daughter… I need to get
the pair of them, if not friendly, at least polite with each other.

Richard and Beth descend the stairs, she leaning heavily on him for support. She sits clumsily, trying to
find a comfortable position so she can eat.

Fanning her face, “I can barely reach the table over my stomach.” She’s laughing but the laugh sounds
strained and she runs hands over her enormous belly. “I’ll be glad when Adam arrives and I can get
back to being able to move again.

Charlotte looks up from where she is giving Cara her breakfast. “Know what you mean. I tell you, it’s a
real relief afterwards, getting back to feeling you’re the only one occupying your body.”

Beth sags, blowing air, but Richard is there, serving her with her favourite muesli and yoghurt. He
kisses her cheek. “Not long now, my Love.”

I poke at the bacon then flip it over in the pan, “Anything special you’d like, Beth?”

She brightens. “A boiled egg?”

“No problem. Just the one?”

“Two, then.”



“Coming up.” I head for the fridge. “Anyone else for boiled eggs?”

From the front door, a knock. Michael rises. “I’ll get it.”

Damn…

There are only so many options for who could be knocking at this hour.

Only one in fact.

“No, it’s alright,” I say, setting the frying pan to one side. “I will. You stay with Charlotte.”

His eyes meet mine and he gives a small nod, nudging his chair closer to Charlotte’s. Occupied with
Cara, she doesn’t seem to have noticed the knock.

Heading down the hall, I work at quelling the unease in my gut which hovers somewhere in the
hinterland of anticipation and anxiety.

I open the door and she’s there, my tall, dark daughter, Georgie. Chin lifted, eyeing me, “Hi, Dad. Can I
come in?” As I hesitate, she says, “I promise I’ll behave. I won’t be rude to her.”

“Alright then.” Opening the door wide, I gesture her to the kitchen.

As we enter, Charlotte glances my way, then doubletakes as she sees Georgie. Turning away, to
Cara’s squalled protests, she buttons up her blouse. “I’ll go upstairs.”

“No, Charlotte. You won’t,” I say. “This is your home. Georgie is the visitor here.” I flash eyes at my
daughter and she looks away, flushing.

Raising her chin again, she takes a step or two towards Charlotte, then falters at the cat-eyed warning
there. Charlotte holds Cara, cradling her close to the breast.



“I… I wanted to apologise…” says Georgie... “… For being so rude to you before. I… I was hoping we
could be… friends…” Her voice trails away.

Charlotte blinks and looks down. Looks to me. Looks back to Georgie. Then, to Michael, sitting by her,
head tilted. He murmurs something to her. I can’t pick out the words, but, unusually for him, there’s a
note of authority there.

Charlotte ducks her head. “Apology accepted,” she mutters.

Then, rising from her seat, “Cara needs changing.” And, baby in arms, she sidles past Georgie,
heading for the door. She doesn’t quite brush past me, but instead, halts. “’Scuse me. Can I come past,
please, Mas... James.”

I don’t reply, simply stepping aside to let her by then looking out to see where she’s headed. Charlotte
bolts along the hall and up the stairs, casting a look down at me from half-way up before vanishing
toward the nursery.

Georgie stands, glum-faced. “Sorry, Dad. I wanted to make it right, but…”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Georgie. I’d say you have some ground to make up with
Charlotte.”

Hunched, she nods. “Yes, but you too. I’m sorry… I…” She grinds to a halt, looking around the room. “I
didn’t realise there are so many of you here.”

Thank God for a change of subject…

“Since you are here, let me introduce you to everyone. This is Mitch, Charlotte’s mother.” Mitch nods
and gives a polite but strictly controlled smile, then rises and follows Charlotte’s path out of the room…



Crap…

“These are my friends, Richard and Beth…”

Georgie steps forward with a subdued, “Pleased to meet you…”

Richard smiles in friendly enough fashion. “And you, Georgie.”

Beth follows his lead with a smile and a “Please excuse me if I don’t get up.”

“… And this is Michael.”

From behind Georgie’s line of sight, I give him a pleading look, but there’s no need. Michael is already
standing, hand outstretched, treating her to one of his sunburst smiles. “Great to meet you at last,
Georgie. I’ve heard so much about you over the years.”

“You have?”

“I have. James is always telling me about you.”

*****


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