Free In Christofides' Keeping by Abby Green Page B

easily against the counter, coffee cup in hand. ‘I’ve taken the day off work. My doctor will be here in about an hour to take the swabs and then we can go out together. We can get what you need, and there’s a park near here where Lolacan play for a bit. We’ll have to stay out of the apartment anyway, as people are coming in to child-proof it.’
    Surprise washed through Gypsy at the speed with which Rico was adapting his world to accommodate Lola—and also, she had to admit, the fact that he wasn’t already gone to work, having left behind an impersonal note, or indeed no note. On the contrary, he was taking a day off. She couldn’t remember one instance when her own father, or her vacuous stepmother, had taken a day off for her. Not even on school sports days. Not even on the day when she’d come to her father’s home to move in. His cold housekeeper had brought her to a room and told her to stay there until dinnertime.
    Feeling unaccountably threatened, and vulnerable from the memory, Gypsy said churlishly, ‘Afraid that if you turn your back we’ll be gone?’
    Rico’s eyes flashed, but he took a lazy sip of coffee and drawled, ‘Let’s just say that trust is certainly an issue.’
    She couldn’t say anything in response. She didn’t want to let him know how much he was surprising her. ‘We’ll be ready after I’ve washed and changed Lola.’
    Rico put down his coffee cup then, and for a second Gypsy could have sworn that something intensely vulnerable flashed across his face. But it was gone before she could be sure.
    ‘Good,’ he said curtly, and watched as Gypsy’s jaw tightened in response.
    She lifted Lola up to take her out of her seat. Rico had to school his features. For a second an impulse had risen up out of nowhere to offer to help with Lola. It had come out of a desire to get to know her better, to know her routine, watch what Gypsy did with her. Rico forcedhimself to remember that if he hadn’t seen Gypsy in the restaurant he’d still be unaware of the fact that he was a father.
    Gypsy walked into the bedroom later that day, exhausted, and succumbed for a moment to sit on the bed. She felt upside down and inside out. After the genial and twinkly-eyed doctor had been and gone that morning, having taken swabs from Lola and Rico, Rico had changed into jeans and a thick jumper and they’d gone out, wrapped up against the cold. Clearly he didn’t trust them to be further than ten feet away from him.
    They’d gone to the local shops, where Gypsy had bought what she needed, insisting on paying, much to Rico’s obvious chagrin. He’d looked ridiculously out of place in the local pharmacy. And then they’d gone to a local park, where Rico had largely ignored her and focused on Lola, who had basked happily in this new friend’s attention. Now, after holding herself so tightly for hours, and being so excruciatingly aware of Rico’s physicality, Gypsy’s defences were extremely shaky.
    Rico’s unquestioning certainty that Lola was his still stunned Gypsy. And the fact that Lola was out in the living room right now, playing happily with Rico, made Gypsy feel very funny.
    Gathering her energy again, she went to the nursery to get a bib for Lola’s dinnertime. When she opened the door she gasped out loud, belatedly remembering Rico’s scathing looks at her flimsy nondescript clothes that morning. She’d heard him making sporadic calls on his phone during the day but hadn’t thought much of it till now…
    In shock, she took in what had to be thousands of pounds worth of clothes for her and Lola, hanging up orput away in drawers. The temporary nursery had been moved to a little ante-room off the bathroom, and was kitted out with even more accessories.
    A potent memory of her father made her vision blur with anger. At the age of thirteen she’d been mesmerised when she’d seen the profusion of beautiful clothes he’d bought for her—until she’d realised to her shame and horror