Heather looked ready to bolt.
‘Steady on, sweetheart! You’re almost twelve. It’s normal to start noticing boys at your age.’
‘Really?’ Heather looked so relieved that it almost made Gaby laugh, but she kept her smile under wraps.
Heather really needed a mother to confide in. Luke was no help. He’d probably flip his lid if Heather ever mentioned boys, or sex, or any of the things adolescent girls were curious about.
‘Yes. But only from a distance, you understand. Now, what have you got to wear?’
Heather pulled a rather grotesque face. Now we’re getting somewhere, thought Gaby. She put her brushes down and took her charge by the hand.
‘Let’s check out your wardrobe.’
She dragged Heather into her bedroom and flung the doors of the wardrobe wide.
‘Let’s see.’
She pulled out a dress and held it up. Heather looked as if she were about to cry.
‘Granny bought me that. And the rest of my dresses.’
Gaby took another look at it. Crumbs! No wonder Heather looked so despondent. It was a beautiful dress for a seven-year-old, all frills at the hem and a big bow at the back, but Heather would be the laughing stock of the party if she turned up in something like that.
‘What about your dad? Surely he’s bought you some clothes while you’ve been living with him?’
Heather walked over to a chest of drawers, pulled out a collection of too-large fleeces, some jeans and a sturdy pair of boots.
Gaby nodded sagely. ‘I see. Well, there’s nothing for it, then.’
‘I won’t go to the party?’ Heather said hopefully.
‘No, better than that. It’s an absolute necessity we have a girly shopping trip.’
Heather’s smile was so wide Gaby reckoned she could have swallowed the coat hanger she was holding.
‘I’ll ask your dad if we can go on Saturday. Then you’ll be all kitted out for the party that evening.’
‘Really?’
‘Sure. I’ll ask him when he gets in from work later. Now, it’s about time you got on with some of your homework.’
Heather practically skipped off to her desk and Gaby left quietly, closing the door behind her. She sighed and set off downstairs to see if the chicken she’d planned for Sunday dinner was properly defrosted.
Of course, rescuing Heather from a serious wardrobe malfunction was all fine and dandy, but it meant she was going to have to have a proper conversation with Luke. For almost a week now she’d managed to avoid any real social contact by being bright and breezy and incredibly busy.
Luke wasn’t due home until ten o’clock this evening. That would mean she’d have to talk to him alone. At night.
She prodded the now-defrosted chicken. ‘So, it looks like we’re both in trouble, kid.’
When Luke came through the door later that evening she had a plate of cold roast chicken, potatoes and salad waiting for him.
‘Hungry?’
‘Starving. Thanks, Gaby.’
She watched him while he set about clearing his plate. After almost a month of hearty home cooking, his appetite showed no sign of slowing and she hoped it never would. But of course, sooner or later, she would have to leave, and then who knew what the pair of them would be eating? She couldn’t stand the thought of them reverting to cardboard pizzas.
When it became too uncomfortable to sit there doing nothing, she fetched a basket of laundry and piled it into the washing machine.
‘Gaby, you’re not a servant, you know. I don’t expect you to do the washing and pick up my dirty socks.’
‘I don’t mind, honestly.’ She grinned. ‘And I promise you this, I wouldn’t go within three feet of your socks.’
He smiled back and stabbed a new potato. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to get into my good books. Is there something awful you’ve done that you haven’t told me about?’
Gaby swallowed. ‘I’d like to take Heather clothes shopping at the weekend, if that’s all right by you. She could do with a few new things.’
He looked up, puzzled. ‘Heather has plenty of clothes.’
‘Well, yes. But it’s that party she’s been invited to on Saturday. She doesn’t want to go because she hasn’t got anything fashionable to wear.’
‘Fashionable,’ he echoed.
‘Yes. You want her to mix a bit more with the other kids, don’t you? I thought I would take her in to Torquay and we could buy an outfit, maybe even get her hair trimmed.’
‘And being fashionable is important to eleven-year-old girls, is it?’
‘Well, the fact she’s bothered about the party means she actually wants to try and fit in, be part of the crowd. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’
‘As long as you don’t let Heather go out looking like one of the Spice Girls, I’m okay with it.’
‘The Spice Girls split up years ago.’
‘Of course they did.’
Oh, well done, Gaby! Remind him he’s lost a whole chunk of his life, why don’t you?
He looked down at his plate and cut the next bit of chicken. ‘I’ll give you some money on Friday to cover it.’
‘Great.’
Now the washing was in, she turned her attention to the dry dishes left over from lunch. Cupboards crashed and tins rattled.
‘Gaby?’
She started sorting cutlery into its drawer. ‘Yes?’
‘Are you all right?’