The Babysitter(72)

She couldn’t fight him.

Oh God… A sob escaping her, Mel clamped her hand to her mouth and stepped away from the cot. Please don’t let him do this. Sick, giddy with nausea, she staggered back another step, felt for the wall behind her and sank to her haunches. Make it stop. Please, make it stop.





Forty-Eight





MARK





Hearing Hercules whining sorrowfully upstairs, Mark parked Evie in the hall. ‘Go and get yourself some ice cream, Poppet,’ he said, nodding Poppy towards the kitchen.

‘Yes! Vlanilla and Gorilla.’ Poppy dumped her bag and shot off.

‘Yup, that’ll do,’ Mark called after her, knowing that was a safe food option for her. ‘Just the one though.’

Going on up, he paused apprehensively on the landing. Realising where the sound was coming from, he closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer. But when he stopped at the nursery door, a mixture of disbelief and relief washed through him.

She was crying. The dog’s head resting gently in her lap, she was sitting on the nursery room floor, quietly sobbing.

‘Mel?’ His heart breaking for her, Mark crouched down in front of her, as Hercules looked dolefully up at him.

Mel met his gaze. Her eyes, frantically searching his, were swollen and red, awash with hurt and confusion. ‘Where is she?’ she asked him, running a hand shakily under her nose.

‘Who?’ Mark asked gently. Noting the way she was looking at him, guardedly, mistrustfully, he felt the foundations beneath him shift another inch. ‘Where’s who? Mel, what’s—’

‘Where’s my baby?’ Mel shouted desperately over him. ‘Where is she?’

‘Downstairs!’ Panic gripping him, Mark answered quickly. ‘She’s downstairs,’ he repeated, as Hercules sat up and barked, clearly as concerned as he was. ‘I’ll fetch—’

‘Mummy,’ Poppy interrupted worriedly from the doorway, ‘what’s wrong?’

Mark snapped his gaze to her. Her ice cream was dripping, little white rivulets running down her chin, down her hand. She was close to tears. ‘Nothing’s wrong, Poppet.’ Mark got to his feet and went to her. ‘Mummy’s…’ What? What could he say to explain this away?

‘I’m fine, sweetheart.’ Wiping a hand over her eyes, Mel smiled shakily towards her daughter. ‘I tripped over one of my flip-flops, that’s all. I landed on my bottom. Ouch!’

Frowning, Poppy surveyed her uncertainly for a second. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘A little bit.’ Mel’s voice caught in her throat.

‘Don’t cry, Mummy.’ Propelled by her obvious anguish, Poppy flew towards her, throwing her arms, plus dripping ice cream, around Mel’s neck. ‘Daddy will rub it better. He has magic hands. He can make the hurt go away.’

They would have laughed at that once, until they’d both cried. Together. But now, Mel didn’t even glance at him.

‘I think I prefer cuddles from you,’ she said instead, burying her face in Poppy’s hair and hugging her tight.

He’d lost her. Mark’s heart cracked in his chest. There was no way to reach her. ‘I’ll fetch Evie,’ he said, turning for the stairs. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving Poppy alone with her, but she was safe, he felt, for now. Still, he unbuckled Evie quickly.





Forty-Nine





JADE





‘So, you’re thinking of running your own nursery then?’ the delightful DS Cummings asked. Taking a huge gulp of his pint, he wiped his hand across his mouth and addressed Jade’s breasts, prominently displayed in her minuscule top.

‘Eventually,’ Jade said, leaning forward to offer him plenty of cleavage as she picked up her wine, which she’d made sure he paid for. She’d already had to fork out for a taxi to get to here. Still, it would be worth it. She was sure their meeting would be productive. ‘It really depends on whether I can get the planning requirements through.’

‘Ah, well’ – Cummings finally focused on her face – ‘that’s where you’ll find me a handy copper to have around. Friends in the right places,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose and then giving her a slow wink.

‘Really?’ Jade said, looking hugely impressed.

‘I know a few people. Reckon I could pull a few strings.’ Cummings picked up his glass, swishing the contents around and holding her gaze meaningfully.

His meaning was clear: he would coerce a few people and expect to be amply rewarded for his efforts. Jade got the not-so-subliminal message. ‘That would be amazing,’ she gushed. ‘I’d be so grateful for any help you could offer.’

Lowering her eyelashes coyly, Jade looked up at him with eyes full of innuendo.

Cummings’ mouth curved into a slow smirk. Clearly, he’d got the message: you scratch my back, and you get certain parts of your anatomy serviced in return. ‘Let me have the details. I’ll make sure any requirements go through,’ he said, his gaze drifting lustfully down again, before coming back to her face, or rather her lips.

‘You’re an absolute hero,’ said Jade, and then, smiling appreciatively, she flicked her hair back and adjusted her top, thrusting her breasts forward and further whetting his disgusting appetite. God, the man was transparent, and utterly loathsome. The thought of him slobbering and sucking away at her caused her stomach to recoil, but needs must.