LITMIR.BIZ

      The ambience of their hotel room was something Juliet loved almost immediately, along with the breathtaking scenery of the Cotswolds. It surprised Juliet that, while she had worried she would feel out of place, she quickly felt comfortable in the South Midlands of England. She was a long way from home but she didn’t feel entirely lost.

      As they sat at the small mahogany card table that doubled as a dining table for two, eating their room-service dinner of a hearty beef stew and finished off with a homemade apple pie, Juliet felt as if she had been transported back to another time. Bea managed to eat her children’s size serving even with her sling in place and Juliet felt sure she would sleep well with a full tummy.

      But no matter how stunning the room, Juliet had to admit the gorgeous antique bath positioned by the large bay window was completely impractical for a four-year-old with a cast. She felt so sorry for her tiny daughter as she stood her next to the porcelain wash basin and used the fluffy white washcloths to give her a freshen up. It would have been too awkward to place Bea into the free-standing and very deep bath. She needed to check the bathroom of the longer-term accommodation before she signed anything, she thought as she dried Bea and slipped her into snuggly warm pyjamas. Fortunately the pyjama top was made of a stretch knit and quite loose fitting so she could slip it over the cast. But working around her daughter’s broken arm was not how she’d seen the first day ending.

      With Bea snuggled in bed after some pain relief and drifting off to sleep, Juliet ran a bath for herself.

      ‘Mummy,’ Bea called out sleepily across the warm room.

      ‘Yes, sweetie, what is it?’ Juliet asked as she took a nightdress out of her suitcase, which was open and lying alongside Bea’s. Juliet decided there was no point unpacking and using the ample white built-in wardrobe, which blended into the wall colour, or the ornately carved chest of drawers. They wouldn’t be staying long enough.

      ‘Why duth Grandpa call you honey and not Juliet?’

      ‘He’s just always called me honey since I was a little girl.’

      ‘Ith that becauth he’th your daddy?’

      ‘I guess so. It’s his special name for me because I’m his daughter and everyone else calls me Juliet.’

      ‘Charlie called me honey…’

      Juliet stopped what she was doing. ‘When?’ she asked with a puzzled look.

      ‘When I fell in the playground and he picked me up. Duth that mean Charlie could be my daddy?’

      Juliet felt her stomach fall and her heart race as she dropped closed her suitcase. Her fallen stomach was the reaction to the unexpected daddy question and just thinking of Charlie in the role of Bea’s father made her heart race. She swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat. Charlie’s handsome face appeared in her mind. She no longer pictured Bea’s father or even thought of him when she looked at Bea.

      But now she suddenly pictured Charlie.

      With legs shaking, Juliet walked back to her daughter and sat beside her, stroking her face and watching her tired eyes struggle to stay open. They were slowly closing as she kissed her gently. Juliet was trying to find the words to answer Bea. She was still too young to understand what had really happened and why she didn’t have a daddy.

      ‘No, my sweet, Charlie is not your daddy. But one day when you’re much bigger we can talk about your daddy.’ With that she pulled up the covers over her daughter.

      ‘Okay.’

      ‘Sweet dreams.’

      As Juliet tiptoed back to the bath she heard her daughter mumble, ‘Mummy?’

      ‘Yes, sweetie.’

      ‘I think Charlie would make a nice daddy.’

      Juliet felt momentarily overwhelmed. It was obvious now that her daughter missed having a father. With a heavy heart, Juliet removed the last of her clothing in the soft light of the bedside lamp and climbed into the steaming bubbles, where she remained for a good half an hour thinking about her life and about Bea’s. Her daughter’s question was spinning along with all the others she had for herself. Her mind was on overload and Bea’s innocent curiosity added another weight. While the travel was beginning to take its toll, the question of Bea’s paternity was now an issue and one that she had no idea how exactly she would answer. Soon she would want more answers. And Juliet would have to answer each and every question as honestly as she could without letting her know that her father was a cad.

      Juliet’s eyes felt heavier and heavier as she reached for an oversized towel and stepped carefully from the bath. She was exhausted. Mentally and physically. It had been a whirlwind since she’d stepped off the final plane at Heathrow. Then she admitted silently the whirlwind had begun before she and Bea had even boarded the first aircraft. The push to hand over her patients at the Perth Women’s and Children’s Medical Centre in a matter of hours and packing their suitcases in temperatures hovering around one hundred degrees for freezing cold weather and all the while questioning the practicalities of travelling with a four-year-old. As she dried herself and slipped the nightdress over her head she heard the soft breathing of her sleeping daughter and knew that no matter what happened or what they faced they would do it together. And they would be just fine.

      Barefoot,

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