‘Long day?’ she asked, the sting of rejection making her pull away. ‘Is everything all right? How did your meeting go?’
He blinked. Sighed. Took a sip of tea, his eyes focused on the table. ‘Fine. It’s all fine.’
‘I’ve had quite a day myself,’ she said, and sat across the table from him, reaching for his hand. ‘Ruth can’t look after Mia any more. She’s just been diagnosed with breast cancer.’
He blinked, awakened from his trance. ‘Oh, no. Poor Ruth.’
Becca thought he might have more to say but he went back to sipping his tea. ‘It’s put me in a bit of a tight spot with work.’ She studied his face, watched him chewing the inside of his lip, clearly distracted by something.
‘Hmmm.’ He nodded, but she was sure he wasn’t listening.
She bristled, her words getting a little snippy round the edges. ‘Anyway, I’ve sorted out a plan B. Dad’s coming over to keep an eye on Mia. Day after tomorrow. It was Kate’s idea. She’s got a meeting in London and has to go away for a night.’
Dean took another sip of tea. ‘Right.’
Becca’s jaw hardened. ‘I’m glad you’re so interested. Anyway, I need your crap out of the spare room so Dad can sleep in there.’
His eyes met hers then. ‘Sorry, what was that?’
‘Honestly, Dean, I hardly see you these days, and when you are here, you’re just not bloody present.’ She pressed her lips together to stop more words from tumbling out, giving voice to her true feelings.
They glared at each other. Then he finished his tea, put his mug on the table and stood, hands clasping the back of his chair as he leant towards her. ‘I’m doing my best to provide a lifestyle and home that you and our daughter can enjoy. I don’t work twelve-hour days for the pleasure of it, Becca.’ His voice hardened, his tone patronising. ‘But, hey, I know your job is more important than mine, so of course I’ll go up there right now and sort it out. Because I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and then I’ll be organising everything for the event at the weekend. Now is all the time I have spare because, you know, I don’t even need any time off for relaxation, do I?’
She swallowed. ‘You don’t have to be like that about it. I just want the room to be nice for Dad when he comes. It’s the first time he will have stayed, and it might have to be a regular thing if I can’t find another childminder.’
Dean glared at her again before leaving the room without another word. She listened to him clumping up the stairs, then a little while later he came back down with one of the boxes in his arms. ‘You don’t have to work. I’ve always said that.’
Becca bit back her reply, not having the energy for the circular argument that spun around them whenever she asked him to help a bit more. It was a battle of wills that she wasn’t prepared to lose. He could never understand why her job was so important to her, why she was determined to keep nursing. But then she hadn’t told him about Rosie. He didn’t need to know that she was responsible for the death of her best friend.
7
Once she’d calmed down, Becca relented and went to give Dean a hand clearing his stuff out of the spare bedroom. She’d just managed to empty a drawer when a sudden wail sent her running to Mia’s room. The smell hit her as soon as she walked through the door, and she gagged as the aroma of vomit and diarrhoea filled her nostrils, so pungent she could practically taste it.
She flicked on the light. Poor Mia was sitting up in bed, the front of her pyjamas covered with vomit, a puddle of it on the duvet in front of her. She was holding up her Beanie Baby unicorn, which had obviously been in the firing line and was dripping chunks of regurgitated food on to the floor. Becca stood for a moment, wondering where to start.
‘Oh, sweetie!’
‘Mummy,’ Mia sobbed, ‘unicorn’s all icky.’
‘You’re both a bit icky. Let’s get you to the bathroom, shall we? See if we can clean up the mess.’
Mia slid gingerly off the bed and Becca noticed the stain on the back of her pyjamas. Thankfully she still wore a nappy at night, so the leakage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but the stench was horrendous, and despite her years of nursing, Becca’s stomach heaved. Although she’d been a very healthy baby, Mia did seem prone to stomach upsets. But then, like most young children, a lot of her toys seemed to gravitate to her mouth.
Probably some sort of twenty-four-hour bug. That’s what these symptoms usually meant. Maybe something she’d picked up at the playground, from the children she’d been playing with.
Dean poked his head round the door and pulled a face when the smell hit him. ‘Oh my God! Shall I run a bath for her?’
‘Good idea. Can you get the changing mat and the baby wipes into the bathroom, and we’ll get the worst off with that first, I think?’ She held out her arms and picked up her smelly, puke-covered daughter, trying not to breathe as she carried her out of the bedroom.
She was thankful for the floral scent of the bubble bath as she wiped Mia down as best she could, then popped her in the foamy water.
Dean came back up with a bucket for Mia’s clothes before heading off to strip her bed.
‘Mummy, unicorn needs a bath as well,’ Mia said, big hazel eyes so mournful that Becca gave the toy a good rinse in the sink before handing it to her daughter, who started splashing it in the water.
‘How are you feeling now, sweetie?’
Mia’s mouth turned down. ‘My tummy hurts.’
‘Do you still feel sick?’
Mia looked at her, silent, pouting, and Becca realised that she wouldn’t know what feeling sick meant. Dean stopped in the bathroom door, a bundle of bedding in his arms. ‘Shall I put this lot in the washing machine?’
Teamwork. She gave him a grateful smile. ‘Could you put it in the sink in the utility room? It’ll need a rinse before it goes in the machine.’ She got to her feet. ‘Tell you what. You keep an eye on Mia and I’ll sort out the washing.’ She took the bundle from Dean’s arms, picked up the bucket and made her way downstairs, forcing the thought that she was too tired to cope with this out of her mind. She locked into nursing mode, reminding herself that she’d seen worse on the wards.
Twenty minutes later, she’d rinsed off the worst of the mess, got the wash on and was back upstairs, sorting out clean bedding. Dean came back into the bedroom, Mia in his arms, wrapped in a towel. She was still clinging on to the unicorn, and Becca sensed there was going to be trouble parting them from each other. She checked Mia over, tested her temperature, asked if her tummy still hurt, and when everything seemed okay, she got her settled back in bed. After a couple of stories Mia was asleep and Becca stumbled into the shower, dead on her feet now but feeling so dirty and germ-ridden that she knew there was no chance of getting to sleep until she felt clean again.
Dean was sitting in bed, scrolling through his phone, when she walked in from the bathroom.
‘I hope she’s okay,’ she said to him as she pulled on her pyjamas.
‘Just a bug, I suppose,’ Dean said, still busy with his phone.
Becca frowned as she sorted out her pillows. ‘I suppose so. I can’t remember her being this bad before, though, can you?’ She could hear the worry in her voice, told herself not to panic. Mia was such a precious child to her and the only one she was likely to have.