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‘I don't know about that,' she winced. ‘I look at you, you're so conscious about every little thing, so organised and disciplined –'

‘And rigid!' Helen declared. ‘Honestly, sometimes I don't know how I got so rigid. Probably all those years looking after my mother. Everything had to be the same, day in, day out, the routines, stuff around the house.' She sighed. ‘Gem, you are spontaneous and fun and you tackle life head-on. They're really wonderful traits to have as a parent. Don't sell yourself short.'

Gemma was tearing up again. ‘You've been so good to me, Helen, from the day you took me in –'

‘Gemma, I didn't “take you in”. You make it sound like you were a charity case. I needed a paying boarder as much as you needed a place to live. We helped each other out.'

‘But –'

‘No, you listen to me now, Gemma,' said Helen. ‘You need to realise how much you've done for me too.'

‘What have I done for you?' Gemma looked surprised.

Helen thought about what she wanted to say. ‘My life was . . . well, I was not in a good place before you came to live with us, Gemma. I was very . . . disconnected from the world. That wasn't any good for Noah. Or me. But since you came, well, my life's opened up and expanded. Noah's somewhere in the building with your family and I don't feel the slightest bit anxious. And . . .' she
hesitated, ‘well, you know, I've stretched myself in so many ways I didn't think possible.'

Gemma was watching her. ‘So, have you seen the . . . um, Myles? That's where you were going last night, wasn't it?'

Helen nodded.

‘Did you work things out with him?'

She looked sheepish. ‘Not exactly. I think I told him I didn't want his job, or anything to do with him, right before I stormed out.'

‘Oh.' Gemma bit her lip. ‘Helen, if you really don't want to work at Bailey's any more, don't feel obliged because of me.'

‘No, it's not that,' she said. ‘I just feel embarrassed now, the way everyone's been talking about me.' Her voice wavered. ‘I'm mortified that they think I'm sleeping with Myles.'

‘Oh no, Helen, I really am a bitch,' said Gemma, hitting her forehead. ‘I should have told you last night, I absolutely insisted to everyone that you weren't sleeping with the MD. I got the shits with Justin for even suggesting it, and so did Mel and some of the other women, and we ended up having this big heated debate about sexual harassment, and I didn't know, but Justin's been sleeping with the perky little blonde on their team –'

‘Alyssa?'

‘Is that her name? Anyway, she got all upset, and ran off in tears, and Justin had to chase after her. It was all a bit of a drama.'

‘So you did stand up for me?'

Gemma nodded.

‘So you're not such a bitch after all?'

She smiled weakly. ‘But there's something else I should have said a lot sooner, as well. I'm sorry, Helen, but I just don't know if I can manage Noah and the baby straightaway –'

‘Of course you can't,' she said. ‘I never expected you to.'

‘Oh? You didn't?'

‘No, I've been meaning to bring it up with you. I guess I was waiting till you decided to stop work, but then this little lady was so impatient.' She glanced down at Lola, smiling.

‘So what are you going to do with Noah?'

Helen took a deep breath. ‘I'm going to have to bite the bullet and ask David's parents to help.'

‘Whoa.' Gemma was frowning. ‘Are you sure you feel comfortable about that?'

‘No, I'm not,' Helen admitted, ‘but I am sure it's the right thing to do.' She didn't want to hang onto her little bit of power any more. It suddenly didn't seem to matter. If she could finally throw out David's pillow, maybe she was ready to let go of a lot more besides. ‘Anyway, I know they'll be happy to help.'

Gemma nodded. ‘So does that mean you are going to keep working at Bailey's for now?'

Helen took a deep breath. ‘I suppose, that's if Myles still wants me . . . working for him,' she added quickly.

‘Oh, I don't think there's any question about that.'

‘What's this place, Mummy?' Noah asked as Helen pulled into the driveway of Bailey's underground carpark. She had decided she had to settle this as soon as possible, so they had driven directly into the city from the hospital.

‘This is where Mummy works, Noah.'

‘Wif Myers?'

He didn't miss a trick. ‘Yes, with Myers. In fact,' she said, glancing at Noah in the rear-vision mirror, ‘we're going up to see him right now.'

‘Yay!' cried Noah, clapping his hands.

Helen parked the car and they caught the lift directly up to the fifteenth floor. But when they made their way to the office, Myles didn't appear to be around. Helen checked her watch: it was only going on eight-thirty. She felt as though she'd been through a whole day already.

‘Where is Myers, Mummy?'

‘He mustn't be here yet,' said Helen. ‘Let's find out where he is.'

They went back out to her desk and Helen turned on the computer, lifting Noah up onto her lap. She kept him amused for a while, letting him click the mouse and showing him the colourful patchwork of Myles's schedule, while she worked out exactly where he was right now. He'd had a breakfast meeting in the building at seven-thirty, but he had nothing scheduled after that until ten. He couldn't be far away.

‘Hello, this is a surprise.'

Speak of the devil. Helen swivelled around in her chair and Noah jumped off her lap, running towards him.

‘Myers, guess what!' he said breathlessly, his eyes wide.

‘You tell me, Noah,' said Myles, crouching down to his level, with a fleeting glance towards Helen.

‘Gemma had a baby on Mummy's bed and a ambalints came but it didn't ee-aww' cause they're absootley fine!' he said emphatically, holding out his arms.

‘Wow,' Myles exclaimed. Then he looked over at Helen. ‘Gemma had the baby?'

Helen nodded. ‘On my bed. I delivered her.'

Myles looked a little stunned. ‘When did all this happen?' he said, straightening up again.

‘Around four this morning,' she said.

‘And everything's all right? The baby's all right? Gemma?'

‘She had a perfect, 3.4-kilo baby girl. Mother and daughter are both doing extremely well.'

Myles was watching her intently. ‘How about you, how are you doing?'

‘I'm fine,' Helen nodded. ‘Actually, I'm good, really good.'

‘It's Mummy's birfday, Myers!'

‘Noah!' she chided.

‘But I didn't haf her a present,' he said, his little face full of regret. Myles was smiling down at him.

‘Well,' he said, ‘we'd best send some flowers to Gemma and to your mummy, what do you think?'

Noah nodded enthusiastically. ‘We already tooked some to Lola,' he said, rolling the l's around on his tongue.

‘Is that what the baby's called?'

‘Yes, and Helen too.'

Myles looked at Helen for confirmation.

‘Gemma thinks she owes me for delivering her.'

‘I would think she does.'

Helen stood up. ‘Have you got a minute, Myles?'

‘Sure.'

‘Noah,' said Helen, ‘how about you come over and sit at my desk and you can draw a picture, while Mummy talks to Myles for a few minutes?'

He went to protest but Myles interceded. ‘Would you draw something for me, Noah?'

‘But I don't know what.'

‘Mm.' Myles thought about it. ‘Can you draw me a picture of the new baby? I haven't seen her yet, so I don't know what she looks like.'

Noah screwed up his face. ‘She looks like a baby,' he said. ‘I know, I'll draw Lola going in the ambalints!'

‘Perfect.'

Helen lifted Noah into her chair, and placed some paper in front of him, as well as every coloured marker she could find. ‘Stay put, Noah,' she warned. ‘We'll just be over there by the door.'

She followed Myles into his office but stood inside the door, where she could still keep an eye on Noah. Myles left his briefcase on the desk and crossed back over to where she was standing, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He seemed apprehensive.

‘So I wanted to let you know about Gemma,' Helen began. ‘She obviously won't be in today.'

He nodded, a faint smile on his face. ‘She really is okay?' he asked.

‘Yeah, she's fine.'

‘It's just I, um . . . well I gave her a bit of a hard time yesterday,' said Myles.

‘Oh?'

‘She didn't say anything?'

‘No.'

‘Yeah, well, we had . . . “words”.'

‘You two.' Helen shook her head. ‘That might explain what set her off last night, why she blurted everything.'

Myles looked at her. ‘I was about to call you, Helen, to apologise again –'

‘No,' she stopped him. ‘You don't have to apologise any more, Myles. In fact, I came here to apologise to you. I got nasty last night, there was no call for that.'

‘You were upset, Helen, with good reason.'

‘That's not an excuse to be mean, and I was, and I'm sorry.' She took a breath. ‘The thing is, you were right, I don't talk about my husband –'

‘Helen, it's okay, you don't have to –'

‘Myles, please, I want to say this.' She glanced across at Noah and lowered her voice. ‘You know how he died, I presume?'

Myles nodded faintly.

‘Whenever I have to tell people, it becomes this gruesome, sensational story. It's like David's a freak because he got hit by a bus. I don't want people to think about him that way . . . That's why I don't talk about him. One of the reasons anyway.'

‘That's fair enough,' he said.

‘When I started working here, I thought no one knew anything about me. It was such a relief not to be this tragic figure, not to make people feel uncomfortable all the time, not to wonder what they were saying about me behind my back.' She paused, staring down at the carpet. ‘It was such a shock when Gemma told me you knew all along. I felt . . . betrayed, I guess.'

‘Helen,' said Myles, waiting till she met his eyes. ‘I've never spoken to anyone about it. Gemma and I didn't even talk about it. I don't think of you as a tragic figure, nothing like it. I think you're brave, and, well, I think you're pretty amazing . . .' He paused. ‘And you certainly don't make me feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. I haven't felt so comfortable with anyone in a long time.'

He was gazing down at her so earnestly, with those eyes.

‘Like I said last night,' Myles went on, ‘I admit, maybe I did give you special treatment at first. Of course your story affected me: I'd be pretty heartless if it didn't. But it wasn't pity, I didn't feel sorry for you, Helen, I just thought you deserved a break. You've more than proven yourself in this job, and I'd really like you to consider staying on. In fact, I think I'd be a little lost without you now.'

Helen wondered if he could hear her heart beating; it was so loud it was echoing in her ears.

‘So what do you say?' he prompted her after a moment.

She cleared her throat. ‘Okay.' Then she remembered the logistics. ‘But it might take a few days to sort something out. With Lola arriving a little earlier than expected, I haven't organised anything for Noah.'

‘No problem, take your time,' Myles dismissed. ‘Work around Noah's preschool hours, or from home, whatever you can manage.'

Helen folded her arms, leaning back against the doorjamb and looking right at him. ‘Are you giving me special treatment again, Myles?'

‘So what if I am?' he returned, his face relaxing into a proper smile. ‘They think we're sleeping together anyway; you might as well get some fringe benefits out of it.'

‘It doesn't bother you?'

‘Let them think whatever they like,' said Myles. ‘They will anyway. Besides, they're probably just jealous.'

Helen grinned. ‘What, because I get to sleep with the boss?'

‘No, I meant the other way around.'

That just made her blush. Fortunately Noah ran over right then, waving a piece of paper.

‘I finished, Myers,' he announced.

Myles crouched down and Noah handed him the picture. He studied it carefully. ‘Well, that's a totally awesome ambulance, Noah. And Lola looks very cute.'

‘She's not really,' Noah confided. ‘She's all squashed.'

‘All right, young man,' Helen broke in. ‘I think it's time for us to head home and let Myles get some work done.'

‘Can I keep this, Noah?' Myles asked, still holding the picture.

He nodded. ‘I drawed it for you.'

‘Thank you very much.' He stood up.

‘I'll let you know as soon as I've organised something,' Helen said as she walked across to her desk to pick up her handbag. When she turned around Myles was standing in front of her.

‘I forgot something,' he said as he stooped to kiss her softly on the cheek. ‘Happy Birthday, Helen.'

Noah was giggling. ‘Myers gived you a kiss, Mummy!'

When Helen pulled into their street half an hour later, there wasn't a space out front so she had to park the car around the corner. She ambled back towards their house, not in any particular hurry, while Noah skipped and jumped and scampered ahead of her. She felt tired, but by the same token she felt strangely wired as well. She supposed that was likely to happen when you'd had a hand in bringing a new life into the world.

But she knew it also had to do with Myles. He was beginning to wear his heart fairly boldly on his sleeve, and Helen wasn't sure she was ready for that. She wasn't stupid – she'd felt the attraction; she'd kind of been pretending she hadn't though, so she wouldn't have to do anything about it. She didn't want to encourage it, that didn't seem right. On the other hand, deep down in her heart, where no one else could see, Helen realised she didn't exactly want to discourage Myles either. But she was a widow. There was a time and distance that had to be respected, surely? She had no idea what that was, though. In other cultures there seemed to be established customs, defined periods of mourning. There were no rules that Helen was aware of, so pretending it wasn't happening had seemed to her the best way to proceed.