The Baby Plan. Liz Fielding

You can start in the garage with Bob. He’ll show you the ropes.’

      ‘Cleaning cars.’ Only an adolescent could endow two such inoffensive words with quite that level of scorn. ‘You didn’t start this business by cleaning cars.’

      ‘I started with one car, Sadie, and I promise you, it didn’t clean itself.’

      ‘Very funny.’

      ‘You think you’re such a catch? Come back when you’ve seen what the Job Centre has to offer and we’ll talk again.’

      ‘But you’re my father; you can’t expect me to skivvy for you …’ Something in his expression must have warned her that she was doing herself no favours, because she stopped. ‘Okay, okay, whatever you say.’

      If only. ‘And one other thing, Sadie. During working hours you’re no different from anyone else around here, you’re an employee with the same privileges and the same responsibilities. That means you arrive on time—’

      ‘That won’t be difficult. Just give me a call five minutes before you leave.’

      ‘I don’t provide a wake-up service for my staff, Sadie. And I don’t give them a lift to work, either. The only place I’m prepared to drive you to is Dower House, next Monday morning.’

      ‘Don’t bother. I’m sure there’s a bus.’

      ‘There is.’ He was looking out of the window, contemplating the business that he had built from scratch. It had been hard. Twenty-four hours a day work, and worry that had left him with too little time to invest in his marriage, too distracted by his own big ideas to notice when his wife had gone looking for company elsewhere. Or perhaps he’d needed the big ideas and the twenty-four-hour work schedule to distract him from his marriage. He turned to his errant daughter. ‘And while you’re here,’ he instructed, ‘you’ll do anything Bob asks of you. In return you get as much tea and coffee as you can drink, a cooked lunch in the café next door and clean overalls every morning. I’m afraid you have to be eighteen before you can join the pension scheme.’

      ‘My dad, the comedian.’

      ‘Your boss, the comedian. At least while you’re at the garage.’

      ‘You’re kidding, right?’ He didn’t bother to reply. ‘Okay … boss. How much do I get paid for doing the dirty work around here?’

      ‘The going rate for the job. After deductions for tax and national insurance you might earn almost as much as your allowance.’

      ‘Do I still get the allowance?’

      ‘What do you think?’

      Amanda couldn’t wait for five o’clock. She had been looking forward to attending this seminar, but it had proved mind-numbingly dull. Or maybe it was just that her mind had other things to occupy it. A pair of capable hands. A quiff of sun-bleached hair with a will of its own. A dangerously attractive smile that still made her feel warm inside. Ridiculous.

      Well, she was being ridiculous all round today. Common sense suggested it would have been wiser to call Capitol and cancel that five o’clock car. Her mother lived only a few miles away; she could have got a taxi there, stayed the night. Stayed the weekend, even. Except that she wasn’t quite ready to share her plans.

      And now she’d left it too late.

      She emerged from the hotel and glanced around, looking for Daniel, expecting to see him leaning against the bulk of his car. He wasn’t. Maybe he’d expected her to be late again, because the big dark blue Mercedes was on the far side of the car park and he was sitting inside it. Oh, well. She pinned a bright, careless smile in place and crossed the gravel. In the event, it was unnecessary, because the man who looked up from the driver’s seat was not Daniel Redford.

      The plunging sense of disappointment certainly put that careless smile in its place. She definitely cared. Which was pretty stupid since she had only met the man once. Apparently that didn’t matter as much as she’d thought it did.

      ‘Yes, miss?’ The man had made no move to get out and open the car door for her, and for a moment she floundered before finding her voice.

      ‘You are from Capitol Cars, aren’t you? I didn’t realise I’d have a different driver.’

      ‘You haven’t got a different driver.’ She swung around at the sound of Daniel’s voice. ‘You have a different car, which is probably why you didn’t see me.’

      How could she have missed him? He must have seen her confusion because he was smiling as he took her arm. ‘I’m parked over there.’ Her eyes widened as she took in the opulent lines of a classic wine-red Jaguar parked on the far side of the hotel entrance. She’d been so intent on looking for a Mercedes, for Daniel, that she hadn’t even noticed it. Amanda smiled apologetically at the driver of the Mercedes and walked with Daniel across to his car. ‘Well, this is different,’ she said.

      ‘Someone rear-ended the Mercedes this afternoon.’

      Concern brought her to a halt and she looked up at him anxiously. ‘Were you hurt?’

      ‘Hurt?’ Then he shook his head. ‘Oh, no. I wasn’t driving it when it happened.’ They reached the car. ‘I hope you don’t mind this old jalopy.’

      ‘Mind?’ She glanced at him. ‘Why should I mind? She’s absolutely beautiful. A real classic.’ Whether the Jaguar merited quite that amount of breathy admiration was a moot point. But Amanda needed some excuse for her breathlessness.

      ‘Well, I’m glad you like her because there is a bit of a problem.’ Then he did that thing with the smile that made simple breathlessness seem like a piece of cake. ‘Because she’s rather mature, there are no seat belts in the rear, so you’ll have to sit up front with me.’

      ‘That’s not a problem. That’s a pleasure.’ She surrendered her laptop and document case to Daniel, and as he opened the door for her she stepped into the leather-scented interior. ‘My father had a car like this,’ she said, when he joined her. ‘It was dark green.’

      ‘The height of luxury in its time.’

      ‘It’s still luxury. A real treat after a dull day.’

      ‘I wish I’d had a dull day.’ There was a world of feeling in his voice as he started the car.

      ‘A baby and a rear-ending. Yes, I can see how that might complicate your life.’

      ‘They were the easy problems. After all, the baby isn’t mine and someone else’s insurance company will be paying for the damage to the car.’

      ‘There’s more?’

      ‘They say things happen in threes. My daughter chose today to drop out of school.’

      His daughter. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. And she meant it. In more ways than one. The happy haze evaporated as quickly as it had formed at the sound of his voice. He had a daughter. Well, what was the big surprise in that? She’d asked about his wife and he’d been evasive. She should have remembered that before she’d made an utter fool of herself with her stupid That’s a pleasure …

      Well, that would teach her to let her mind go awandering. He had a wife, and a wife almost inevitably meant children. But the inevitability of it didn’t stop her heart from sinking like a soggy sponge.

      ‘Was there any special reason?’ she asked. Well, she had to say something. ‘For the dropping out?’

      ‘She flunked her GCSEs last summer. I’m hoping she’s just a bit fed up because all her friends have moved on to the sixth form while she’s stuck with re-sits.’ Daniel pulled out of the parking bay and headed for the gates.

      ‘Hoping?’

      ‘I suspect it may be a symptom of something worse.’ There was what seemed like an endless pause as he reached the gates, waited for the