Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emilie through the window, skipping about in the courtyard, so at least she’s oblivious.
‘I forgot the basket,’ Mum explains, as George finally turns around to face her, looking sheepish. ‘Is this why you didn’t want Emilie to call him Uncle George?’ she asks me, cocking an eyebrow.
I nod.
‘Fair enough,’ she says with a knowing grin, grabbing the basket from the table. ‘Emilie and I will be at least ten minutes. As you were,’ she says as she walks out the door.
George and I look at each other and laugh, both slightly mortified. And while I feel a twinge of disappointment that our secret is out in the open – it was quite a thrill sneaking around – I’m mostly relieved that I no longer have to lie to my mother. I’m still a good girl at heart.
* * *
George and I talk about it with Mum later, after Emilie has gone to bed. He and I are on the sofa opposite Mum, sitting apart, and I’ve confessed that I don’t know how to play things where my daughter is concerned.
‘I bet she doesn’t even bat an eyelid,’ Mum says. ‘Children are so adaptable at that age.’
‘Do you think so?’ I need reassurance. I don’t want to do anything that will hurt or confuse her.
‘If this is serious between you—’
‘It is,’ George interrupts. ‘Leah’s it for me.’
I flash him a tender look, reaching over to take his hand.
‘George is it for me too,’ I say softly, holding his gaze before turning to see Mum regarding us both with fond affection.
‘Then don’t hide it from her,’ she repeats gently. ‘The sooner this becomes her new normal, the less confused she’ll be.’ She gets up and walks to the door. ‘And maybe we need to start thinking about converting the Bunny Barn for Nanna sooner rather than later!’ she adds merrily, disappearing into the kitchen.
* * *
George and I take Mum’s advice, and the next morning, when he comes down for breakfast while Emilie is still sitting at the kitchen table, I make a point of going straight over to him and giving him a quick kiss on his lips.
‘Good morning!’ I say brightly, glancing over at Emilie to check her reaction.
She’s seen us, but she returns to eating her cereal without a fuss.
‘Good morning, Emilie,’ George says, squeezing her shoulder.
She looks at him as he sits down.
I dare to hope that Mum is right and that she’ll accept this as her new normal without even questioning it.
‘Are you my daddy now?’ she asks George.
Oh, shit!
He looks at me, but before I can speak, he answers her.
‘There are different types of daddy, did you know that?’
She shakes her head.
‘Theo is your real daddy. You have a photo of him in your bedroom. He will always be your real daddy and he loved you very, very much. Your Gramps was not my real daddy, but he was a bit like a daddy to me when I lived here a long time ago. He loved and protected me, just like he loved and protected your Uncle Jamie. He was a really good dad,’ he says seriously as pressure builds behind my eyes. ‘I would like to try to be that sort of dad for you. I will love and protect you and I want you to always feel safe with me. If you’re ever scared about anything or if you ever need help, you can come and find me and I’ll look after you. Is that okay?’
She nods and grins at him, looking thoroughly pleased with his answer.
I blink back tears, and when George meets my eyes, doubting himself, I nod and smile, trying to convey that what he said was absolutely perfect.
* * *
Jamie and Dani are coming to spend Christmas with us, so ahead of their visit, George and I decide to make our fluid sleeping arrangements permanent. We move most of my belongings out of my room and into his so we still have a degree of separation from Mum, but with the way she’s eagerly talking about a barn conversion, it really may only be a matter of time before we have the house to ourselves.
George is working most days at Forestry England now, having secured the job at his one and only interview, so he’s not at home on Friday afternoon when Jamie and Dani arrive.
We’re all sitting around the kitchen table having tea and Christmas cake when he does appear, and as usual, I’m the first person he kisses, followed by Emilie: lips for me; top of the head for her. By the time he reaches Jamie, my foster brother is positively beaming. We’ve told Dani and Jamie about our relationship on the phone, but seeing is believing and no one could doubt the love between us.
The thrill of keeping our relationship a secret is incomparable to how it feels to be tactile with George in public. It’s a pure joy to be able to walk down a high street hand in hand, or sit side by side at the pub with his arm draped around my shoulders. We’ve also got together with Becky and Robin a few times – Robin and George get on well and I’m sure it’s a friendship that will only strengthen with time.
* * *
Mum is beside herself that night with all of us around the table – I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time. The Christmas decorations are up and fairy lights are twinkling on the tree. The mantelpieces are decorated with fresh-cut pine and the room smells of forests and vanilla, thanks to the row of tealights flickering prettily on the table.
This will be our first Christmas without Dad, and while these firsts are bound to be tough, it helps to be surrounded by loved ones. It was Emilie’s fourth birthday last week and I missed him desperately on that day too, as I did Theo. I wrote about it in a letter to Theo, telling him about the giant unicorn cake Mum made and how Emilie’s eyes grew so round when I helped her cut into it and jellybeans spilled out of the middle. We invited some of her playmates from nursery over for a party, along with their parents. I’ve become friendly with the blonde woman who spoke to me kindly on Emilie’s first day. Her name is Rosie and we often go to the café together, sometimes with the kids too. Emilie and Rosie’s daughter Isla get on well.
Dani raises her Diet Coke into the air. She isn’t drinking again, nor did she drink at the pub back in August after Mum’s first knitting workshop. Mum and I speculated then that there could be a number of reasons for it, but felt it was rude to ask.
‘So, you may have noticed that I’m not on the booze,’ Dani says, putting the glass back down before continuing. ‘I made a decision to stop when we moved to London. I know that I have a problem with alcohol and I really don’t want to turn out like my mum, so I’ve been going to meetings.’
Mum reaches across the table and covers her hand, supportively. ‘I am very proud of you, darling,’ she says seriously.
‘Dani thought she’d better clear that up before you jumped to the conclusion that she’s pregnant,’ Jamie chips in.
‘Well, I did wonder,’ Mum admits with a smile.
Jamie coughs. We all look at him. His face breaks out in a grin.
‘You’re not?’ Mum gasps.
Dani nods, beaming. ‘Twelve weeks. We had the scan this morning.’
‘Oh, I’m so happy for you!’ Mum exclaims, jumping to her feet to hug them both. George and I immediately follow suit.