Be My Baby by Fiona Harper Page A

really paying attention to where she was going and found herself in Bayard’s Cove, a little dead end street near the ferry. One side was open to the river, and a squat, ruined turret of an old fort built to guard the estuary sat where the road ended.
    She dipped down and entered the fort through its low doorway. A row of arched windows framed the view up to Dartmouth Castle on the rolling headland.
    She would just fit nicely in one of those arches, she decided. Soon her legs were dangling over the ledge, the water lapping below. She pulled a sketch pad and pencil out of her shopping bag and set to work capturing what she saw: bulbous clouds pushing across the sky like an armada, sail boats criss-crossing the water and the higgledy-piggledy houses of Kingswear on the other side of the river.
    This was heaven. It had been so long since she’d done something just for her own pleasure. What started out as a quick sketch, rapidly grew in scale and detail. It was only when she glanced up and noticed the light was starting to fade that she checked her watch. Four o’clock. She had time to head home, drop off her bags, then run up to collect Heather from netball practice.
    She took a second to consider her sketch, then flipped the pad closed, praying the traffic warden hadn’t slapped a ticket on her windscreen while she’d been sketching.
    When she returned to the Old Boathouse, she was surprised to see Luke’s car parked at an angle in the lane. He wasn’t due home until at least seven o’clock. She wanted to show him what she’d been up to, so she fished the pad out of her bag as she walked up to the back door. Once in the mud room, she called out, ‘Hi there! What are you doing back so—?’
    The look on Luke’s face as she entered the lounge brought her up short.
    â€˜Where the hell have you been?’

CHAPTER FIVE
    W AS he yelling at her?
    Gaby took a quick look over her shoulder, just to double-check no one had walked in behind her, but they were alone in the room.
    â€˜Well? Where have you been?’
    Her fingers twitched as she waited for her voice to work. She waved the pad a fraction of an inch. ‘I’ve been sketching…’
    Her voice trailed off. He’d lost his rag with Heather over the last few weeks, but never had she seen this kind of raw fury in his eyes. A familiar feeling crept over her. She’d experienced it many times when David had lost his temper with her, but she’d never expected to get it from Luke.
    â€˜You know Heather gets out of school at three-thirty! You’d better have a bloody good reason for leaving her standing in the playground with her teacher, while you were out messing around with crayons!’ Luke took the pad from her, gave it a cursory look and tossed it behind him on to the sofa. It bounced and skittered across the floor.
    Gaby stood rooted to the spot, although inside she felt as if she was backing away. He just ploughed on.
    â€˜The school called me at work, wanting to know why nobody was there to pick my daughter up!’
    Finally her tongue unwelded itself from the top of her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness! Heather…’
    She looked frantically round the room then tried to rush past him to look in the kitchen. Luke lunged forward and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. ‘ Now you’re worried. Why weren’t you thinking like this an hour ago?’
    â€˜But…but she had netball…’
    â€˜No. She didn’t!’
    â€˜But she always has netball on a Monday afternoon! It’s right there—’ she waved a hand towards the kitchen ‘—on the calendar!’
    â€˜Not this week. There was a letter to say it was cancelled because Miss Blackwell is on some training course.’
    Her hand flew in front of her mouth. ‘I didn’t know,’ she stammered through her fingers.
    â€˜It’s your job to know!’ Luke ran his hands through