Their Baby Bargain. Marion Lennox

sympathy on his tear-streaked self. The ambulance had left, and the boy couldn’t have stayed here alone. ‘Get yourself ready and we’ll take you back to school.’

      And that was that. He’d stared for a long time into this mirror, knowing he’d been irretrievably changed: he was now alone. Then he’d walked out of the house, and he’d known in his gut that he wouldn’t be back. That had been the end of his family. First his grandfather, then his mother, and finally Gran…

      Loving people hurt. Getting attached hurt.

      Coming back here hurt like hell!

      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, get out there and eat your pizza,’ he told his older, wiser face. ‘I don’t know why on earth you’re bothering with this kid—with a baby!—but if you must, you must. Just organise her a life and then get out. Take your car and ride off into the sunset. Fast.’

      Because any other way would lead to…what? Emotional attachment? Pain he’d sworn never to experience again.

      No. He couldn’t face that.

      And then he heard a horn sound at the gate, and a cow lowing in the distance as it was forced to move aside for the taxi. Here, then, was dinner. And nappies. And domesticity.

      ‘It’s just for a week,’ he told himself harshly. ‘And then you leave!’