Cuthbert's Way (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #17)(5)

The two women stood there for a moment watching the man and his child, both smiling at the sight of Ryan’s blue-black hair sticking out at odd angles around his sleeping face. His daughter shared the same shade, but had inherited her mother’s brown eyes, which would open soon enough for her morning feed, if Anna wasn’t much mistaken.

“Ryan didn’t want to wake you,” Eve murmured. “Let’s leave them to it for a bit longer, shall we?”

With a gentle hand, she steered Anna towards the kitchen, where they found Ryan’s father, Charles, sipping a cup of coffee whilst thumbing through a copy of yesterday’s newspaper.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, while his sharp blue eyes made a quick assessment of Anna’s face, alarmed to find it looking pale and drawn.

“Morning,” Anna said, listlessly.

Exchanging a meaningful glance with his wife, Charles came to his feet.

“Well,” he said, and made a show of checking his watch. “The corner shop will be opening in half an hour—I think I’ll put my shoes on and take a wander down into the village to pick up some fresh milk. Need anything, while I’m down there?”

“No, I think we’re all set,” Eve said, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Her husband was far from perfect, she thought, but, at moments like these, she was grateful he knew when to make himself scarce.

“Why don’t we have a nice cuppa?” she suggested, casting a glance over her daughter-in-law, who remained standing inside the doorway, looking a bit lost. “Tea, or would you prefer coffee?”

Anna shook herself.

“Um, coffee, please. I can make it—”

“I don’t mind,” Eve said, tapping the edge of a chair to indicate the girl should sit down before she fell down. “Did you have a bad dream? You seemed upset, when you came downstairs.”

“I—I’m not sure,” Anna mumbled. “I woke up and—and when I looked across at the cot, Emma wasn’t there. I just panicked. Sorry, I feel like such an idiot—”

Eve paused in the act of slipping a coffee pod into the machine and turned to look at her.

“Never apologise for experiencing a perfectly natural emotion,” she said softly. “I can’t tell you how often I worried about Ryan and—and Natalie—when they were young.”

It hurt to say her late daughter’s name, sometimes, but it was getting easier the more often she tried.

“Emma may only be five months old but, I’m sorry to say, you never stop worrying about your kids, no matter how old they get,” she chuckled. “Especially the ones who decide to run off and become murder detectives.”

That brought a smile to Anna’s face. “Heaven forbid,” she said. “I don’t think my heart could cope with the stress of having two of them in the family.”

“Try being the wife of a former diplomat,” Eve said, not bothering to mention that Charles had been in military intelligence before that, when Ryan and Natalie were children.

Talk about sleepless nights.

She brought two steaming mugs over to the table, and decided the moment called for buttery croissants, too. Anna had always been a slim woman, but she was edging towards becoming thin and her skin was too pale, which spoke of anaemia.

Steak for dinner tonight, Eve thought, with a decisive nod.

“It’s been a stressful time,” she said, reaching across to give Anna’s hand a quick squeeze. “Bringing a baby into the world is hardly a walk in the park, especially when that baby decides to come a couple of weeks early.”

Anna took a swig of coffee.

“I’ll never forget the look on Ryan’s face,” she said. “He’s faced every kind of danger during his career but, I swear, I’ve never seen him look so terrified.”

“That’s all very well,” Eve said, carefully. “But you’re the one who’s borne the physical strain. One day, that little girl will thank you, but, until then, it’s a cycle of sleeping, feeding and changing…not to mention the constant worrying. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Anna. You’re doing a wonderful job, and you’re a wonderful mother, already.”

Anna’s eyes glazed over and she set her cup down, battling sudden tears. At times like these, when she doubted herself, she missed her mother terribly; Sara Taylor had been taken years before her time, by the hand of a madman. Most days, she managed to forget that part and remember her mother’s voice and sometimes her smell, if she closed her eyes and recalled old sensory memories that grew more distant by the day. When her own daughter had come into the world, she’d longed to share the occasion with Sara, to seek her advice and reassurance during those first few weeks, whilst they adjusted to the shock of becoming new parents.

But, of course, she couldn’t.

It was thanks in no small part to Eve Ryan’s unstinting warmth and kindness that she’d been able to overcome any sadness that threatened to spoil those precious first moments. Aside from loving Ryan, the two women shared a common bond, both having lost significant people in their lives: Eve, her daughter, and Anna, her entire family. There could never be any substitutions for those they had lost, but they had forged new bonds of deep and abiding friendship.

Not only did she like her mother-in-law, Anna thought.