Page 74 of Watching Henry

“It's trite for a reason, because it works.” He sat forward a little. “You know, when your mother died, everyone expected me to get married again. Or they expected me to hire a host of nannies and housekeepers to take care of the three of you. Nobody thought I could raise you alone.”

“But you did,” Hadley smiled quietly, remembering all the evenings at the dinner table, all the school recitals and sports days and everything else.

“I had to prove them wrong,” he said simply. “Your mother would never have wanted you raised by someone else, so I did what needed to be done. I think you'll find that if you turn your mind to something you really can do whatever it is you need to.”

The words were soothing, whether she chose to believe them or not. But she couldn't help asking the question, now that they were talking about personal things, talking about love. “Will you get married again?”

His smile was so sad that it almost wasn't a smile at all and she instantly regretted asking the question.

“If I ever find a woman who annoys me as much as your mother did, then I just might.”

She burst out laughing. “Annoys you?”

He nodded. “The way I see it is that if you care enough to be annoyed by someone then you must have deep feelings for them. How could you not? If you didn't, then those little annoyances would be nothing, they'd be the quirks of a stranger and none of your business. But when you start to take them personally, when they get under your skin, that's the sign that there's something more going on.”

She took the words in, turning them over in her mind, examining them and finding that she couldn't argue with him.

“You'll do what's right, what's for the best,” he said. “I believe in you, Hadley. I don't think you're a flake at all.”

Chapter Thirty Two

Florence hardly went out onto the deck anymore. Without Hadley there, there seemed no point. But it was where she eventually found Maeve, sitting in the moonlight with her glass in her hand.

“The twins are settled and Henry's put his tablet away. I've given him permission to keep his light on so that he can read for another half an hour.”

“You've got him reading?” Maeve said, raising an eyebrow. “Quelle surprise.”

Florence shrugged. “It's simply a matter of getting him into the habit is all.”

“Then your job's done for the night. Come on and sit down. Give me a little company.”

Not that her job was to provide Maeve with company, Florence thought. But she didn't have the strength to make polite excuses, so she sat down anyway.

“The children miss Hadley,” Maeve said, coming straight to the point. “All of them have said as much.”

“I know,” Florence said, wearily.

“It's not something that I'd put that much stock into, staff do come and go,” Maeve said. “Or I wouldn't, if I didn't think that you missed her too.”

Florence shifted, the words taking her by surprise. “Ms. McLeod...”

Maeve waved a hand at her. “I know, I know, it's none of my business. Tell me to shut up and I will. I'm counting on the fact that you're far too well-mannered to do any such thing though.”

Florence closed her mouth because Maeve was correct. She couldn't tell her employer to shut up, no matter what she was saying.

“I don't like to see people unhappy,” Maeve continued. “That's part of my problem with disciplining the children, I suppose. I do so hate to see them sad. And you are unhappy, aren't you, Florence?”

“I'm very satisfied with my role here,” Florence said because it seemed like the right thing to say.

“Not what I'm talking about,” Maeve said. “I've got eyes in my head. I could see from the moment that I walked in that there was a connection there. I used to think I was psychic, you know, but I've learned not to believe in such ridiculous superstitions. No, I could see your energy lines, stretching out between the two of you.”

Florence cleared her throat and definitely did not laugh.

“I'm only saying this because I've let love go,” Maeve went on, picking up her wine glass. “It's the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. I let love walk away and I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone else in the world. Especially not you, Florence.”

It was beginning to dawn on Florence that Maeve might not be quite sober. And also that the divorce might have had an effect on more than just the children.

“You can't give up hope,” she said. “I mean, the two of you shared so much, there's always the chance that Mr. Allan and you might have a change of heart and...” She stopped talking because Maeve was laughing. “What?”