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chaos. She even felt a smidgen of sympathy for Scott. Three hours was a long time to look after somebody else’s child. Especially when you had no experience with the little treasures.
    The straight skirt and high shoes she was wearing – an outfit she only ever suffered for court appearances – weren’t exactly helping her progress towards the café where Scott had promised he’d be waiting. Visions of Sally with tears down her cheeks, and an exasperated Scott telling her to pull herself together, shot through her mind as Megan pushed open the door. That was supposing he was still with her, of course, and hadn’t decided to dump her in favour of a woman more his own age. No, he might be a womaniser, but even he wouldn’t have done that, she told herself firmly. Or would he? Beginning to feel the first clutches of anxiety, she scanned the busy caf é , looking for a tall, dark-haired man and his small companion. She picked out a young girl, her face looking down at the tabletop with rapt concentration, and almost skipped past her. Narrowing her gaze, she took a harder look. Could that really be Sally? And sitting opposite her, his face a mixture of pleasure and pride, was that actually Scott?
    For a moment she stood, stunned. Then, breathing a huge sigh of relief, she meandered as casually as she could down to their table. ‘Well, what have you two been up to?’
    ‘Mum, look what I’ve drawn!’ Sally was scrambling down from the table and thrusting several pieces of paper under her nose.
    Taking hold of the precious works of art, Megan dutifully studied them. For once she was actually able to make out what her daughter had drawn. ‘Hey, these are really good. Is that Dizzy?’
    Smiling proudly, Megan nodded her head. ‘Scott showed me how to draw a dog. You have to start with circles to get the right portions.’
    ‘Proportions,’ Scott interjected, leaning back against his chair and clasping his hands nonchalantly behind his head.
    Megan glanced over at him, meeting his smug gaze. He had the look of a man who knew he’d been underestimated but had come out on top.
    ‘That’s right, pro- por-tions. Scott’s a really good drawer, Mum. He says he’s so good he’s allowed to …’ She sucked in a breath and recited slowly, ‘blow his own trumpet.’
    ‘Did he now?’ Once again Megan met Scott’s eyes. The smugness slid away, replaced by a sizeable dose of embarrassment. He was trying to hide it, but he was definitely squirming.
    ‘I might have exaggerated a little for comic effect,’ he murmured. ‘Then again, if you look at what we’ve drawn …’
    He gave her a crooked grin – one that didn’t just light up his face, it reached his eyes and made them glitter. Chewing on her lip, she dragged her gaze away and back to Sally’s drawings. She was not going to be charmed by the likes of Scott Armstrong, she reminded herself. She knew better than that. Still, she probably could afford to warm to him slightly. After all, he had just looked after her daughter all afternoon. In fact he’d done more than that. He’d entertained her.
    Sifting through all the drawings spread across the table, Megan caught herself grinning at the cartoon animals he’d captured so brilliantly. He had a real and very unexpected talent there. ‘They’re very good.’
    He quirked an eyebrow at Sally and grinned. ‘See, I told you.’
    Finding his grin was making her want to smile back, Megan deliberately turned to her daughter. ‘What else have you been up to?’
    ‘We went to the park. Scott was too big for the swing, but he had a go on the balancing ropes.’
    Again, Megan cast a quick look of surprise at Scott. The funny thing was, she could actually picture him, starched white shirt open at the collar, dark-grey suit crumpled, playing in a kid’s park. Although every inch a man, there was still the hint of a boy about him when he smiled.
    As she continued to quiz Sally about her afternoon, she became aware that