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past her and headed towards the kitchen.
    ‘I’d better get some dinner on for Bailey—oh, and can you make sure the pets stay downstairs? I don’t want that lion climbing into his cot.’
    ‘Sure. And I’ve already made dinner,’ Charlotte said, watching as he jerked his head in surprise. ‘Just lamband potatoes…’ She followed him through to the kitchen, standing just behind him as he stared at the neatly laid kitchen table—the rather dusty highchair she had found against the wall gleaming in pride of place. ‘Elsie said she’d stocked you up enough to see the week out. I’ll just pop some peas in the microwave and it should be ready in a couple of moments. Bailey does like lamb, doesn’t he?’
    ‘I’m not sure.’ For once it was Hamish who sounded embarrassed.
    ‘Only Elsie said there was some in the freezer.’ Her hands shaking and trying not to show it, she clumsily served up, spilling gravy all over the bench—not that Hamish noticed. He was too busy trying to pry a tired unyielding body into the highchair she’d set up.
    ‘He’s not used to it.’ Hamish gave an almost apologetic shrug as Charlotte bought a bowel over and placed it in font of Bailey. ‘It’s normally chicken nuggets or fish fingers and frozen chips over there at the coffee table in the family room.’
    ‘I’m not used to it either,’ Charlotte admitted. ‘It took me about five goes just to set the highchair up!’
    ‘But Belinda said you had a lot of experience with children!”
    ‘With sick ones I’ve had loads,’ Charlotte said distractedly, missing his appalled expression, ‘but healthy ones like this little honey are a complete enigma to me. I guess we’ll have to work it out together—won’t we Bailey?’
    Bailey was giggling so much as she tickled him that he forgot to refuse the teaspoon she’d laden with finelychopped meat and mash and peas all swilling in gravy—his giggles fading as everyone present, Bailey included, found out that he did like lamb after all. And not only that, he could eat without help from Hamish or Charoltte! His little hand eagerly grabbed the spoon from Charlotte and then messily shovelled his dinner into his mouth.
    ‘On your meat or potatoes?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    Pan poised, Charlotte made herself clearer as Hamish stared in amazement at his son. ‘Do you like your gravy on your meat or potatoes?’
    ‘Whatever.’
    Despite the fairly good start, it was the most strained of strained dinners.
    Far worse than any first date—far worse than some embarrassing set-up by friends or a blind date for the hell of it.
    This one had the added cringe factor of being an unwelcome guest in the man’s home with no waiter or wine list or the hum of fellow diners to break the appalling silence. Even Bailey let both sides down—contentedly chewing his dinner then promptly deserting the sinking ship by falling asleep at the table, his dark curls awash with gravy and potatoes, one hand clutching his teaspoon, his little thumb on his other hand stuck firmly in his mouth.
    ‘How come you suddenly need somewhere for all your animals?’ It was Hamish who finally gave in.
    ‘My mum’s moving up to Queensland,’ Charlotte answered.
    ‘How come she’s moving?’
    ‘She’s got a new boyfriend.’ Charlotte smiled as Hamish frowned. ‘And I mean boyfriend ! He’s not much older than me!’
    ‘Oh!’
    ‘Still, he seems to make her happy.’
    ‘You get on well?’
    ‘I haven’t met him yet.’ Charlotte shrugged. ‘Mum met him on holiday a few months back—it’s been one of those whirlwind romances. Apparently he lives in one of those gorgeous high-rise apartments overlooking the ocean—which doesn’t leave much room for the pets.’
    ‘But if you lived at home, couldn’t you have stayed there for a while?’
    ‘There’s no more work. The local hospital closed last month—about the same time Mum told me that she wanted to sell up and move. I’m packing up the house for her—it