Five Winters(17)

“This van stinks,” Emily complained as she climbed in and clipped in her own seat belt.

I couldn’t deny it. With all the dogs I transported, it always smelled ripe. Today, the smell of wet dog fur had taken the stench to a whole new level.

“I know,” I said, trying to ignore the rain percolating between my neck and my coat collar. “It’s awful, isn’t it? I’ll have to take it to be valeted. Olivia, can you turn round please so I can put your seat belt on?”

When she totally ignored me, I tried a different tack. “If I don’t get into the car soon, your mummy’s special picture’s going to get ruined.”

That did it. Even though I did feel mean. Olivia turned around and obligingly let me clip her seat belt into place. Finally getting into the van myself, I unzipped my coat, catching a glimpse of the painting as I carefully removed it from my clothing and passed it back to Olivia. It showed a family—a mother, a father, and two little girls—in front of a Christmas tree. Well, what had I expected? A dad and two mothers?

“I bet you’re excited about your nativity play tomorrow,” I said to Olivia as I drove off towards Milo’s house, then wondered if it had been a good idea to mention it. Olivia was to play a shepherd, and at first she’d been a bit distraught not to have been cast as Mary.

But it seemed it was a safe topic now. “Mummy got me a furry lamb to carry,” she said. “None of the other shepherds have got a lamb.”

Ah. Harriet had saved the day, then. “That’s lovely. Have you given the lamb a name?”

“No, he’s just Lamb.”

The rain was still pouring down when we reached Milo’s house. My instinct was to leave the girls in the van while I took Milo inside. After all, it would take me only a matter of minutes. But Jaimie and Harriet had a cardinal rule about not leaving the girls in a car on their own, so I had no choice but to take them—all but kicking and screaming—with me.

“Come on, Olivia,” I said persuasively. “You can feed Milo for me.”

“Can I?” Immediately she began to undo her seat belt and would have dashed out into the rain right away if I hadn’t stopped her. And I had to stop her because I still had to convince Emily.

Time to use my trump card. “I bought you a book while I was in town earlier,” I said casually. “You can bring it in with you if you like.”

Emily’s expression was all suspicion. “What is it?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Only the latest Gina Carmichael.”

While Olivia needed constant interaction and rarely stopped talking, Emily was at her happiest with her head in a book. I knew for a fact that Gina Carmichael was her favourite author, so I’d dived straight into the bookshop as soon as I’d seen the window display this morning, which, come to think of it, was probably why I’d been running slightly late this afternoon.

Eagerly, I waited for Emily’s smile of delight. It didn’t arrive.

“Oh,” she said dismissively. “Mummy bought that for me yesterday. I’ve already finished it.”

It wasn’t the first time Harriet had pipped me to the post. Me—Hey, girls, I thought we could make some homemade Christmas paper chains for the living room. I’ve bought lots of different coloured paper. Olivia—We did that last weekend with Mummy. Me—Girls, d’you want to help me make a Christmas cake? Emily—Mum said we’re going to do that on Saturday.

It was hardly surprising, I supposed. But it was disappointing. Time after time I thought of something we could do together, and time after time I was knocked back. But it wasn’t the girls’ fault their mother kept getting in first. The whole situation was difficult for them, and I of all people ought to understand that. After all, I’d been exactly the same with Aunt Tilda. As Jaimie said, the girls hated the situation, not me. It was just a pity that sometimes that felt like the same thing.

“Oh well,” I said. “That’s a shame. But I’m afraid you’re still going to have to come in with us. You know your dad won’t let me leave you in the car.”

I got out of the car to take Milo out of his travel cage. Olivia was out as soon as I slid open her door, demanding to hold Milo’s lead, which I couldn’t let her do, of course, with him being a client’s dog.

“Come on, Emily, please. It won’t take long.”

At last she came, sending Olivia’s special picture spiralling to the floor as she did so, and together we sprinted through the rain up Milo’s garden path and into the house.

“Don’t forget to take your shoes off!” I shouted after Olivia, who was already on her way to the kitchen to find the dog food, and as I bent to unclip Milo from his lead, Emily went ahead and straight into the lounge.

As I put their discarded shoes next to mine on the doormat, I could hear Olivia saying something to Milo in the kitchen.

“I’ll show you where the food is and how much to feed him in a moment,” I called to her, popping my head round the lounge door to check if Emily was okay on my way past.

She was kneeling on the floor next to the Christmas tree, absorbed in a large book which was lying open on the coffee table. My bonding-potential radar went off, and I went over to take a look, saying, “What have you found?”

Then I reached her and gasped in shock. The book Emily was so absorbed in was an illustrated coffee-table version of the Kama Sutra.