ChapterFifty
Somethingexuberantly excited landed on Lexie, startling her from sleep.
‘Wake up, Lex!’
Tiny fingers started to peel Lexie’s eyelids open. She groaned slightly and focused on Emi.
‘It’s today, ’ Emi announced, bouncing up and down, her legs straddling Lexie’s body like she was riding a pony. ‘Today! It’s today you become my mummy, properly.’
‘I know. Aren’t I lucky?’ Lexie smiled, and ruffled Emi’s dark curls, as she remembered the last few months. A real triumph over adversity. Times when it seemed Emi would never walk again, let alone speak. Looking at her now, still in her teddy bear patterned pyjamas, pink with excitement, it was hard to believe what they had all three been through – Owen, Emi and herself.
‘Come on, get up ….’ Emi tugged at Lexie’s arm. ‘It’s time to get up – put your pretty dress on. You don’t want to be late for daddy.’
Laughing, Lexie protested, ‘It’s too early.’
‘It certainly is.’ Elizabeth Scott appeared in the doorway, holding a cup of tea. ‘What are you do in here, young lady?’ She smiled at Emi. ‘We should let our bride rest before her big day.’
Emi clutched Lexie. She was still uncertain about her new extended family. ‘I’m not being naughty. Am I Lex?’
‘Of course not.’ Lexie cuddled her and dropped a kiss into her curls. The partial amnesia Emi suffered was a blessing, but her past life with Margaret still sometimes surfaced in the child’s defensive reactions. It seemed in the time she lived with her mother; Emi had become, by default, a “bad child”.
‘Here we are, sweetheart, some tea for you.’ Elizabeth moved to the bedside table and placed the cup down. ‘And you, little angel.’ She turned to Emi. ‘Are needed in the kitchen. Your uncle Xander is trying to make pancakes for breakfast, and I think he might need some help.’
‘All right,’ Emi clambered off Lexie. ‘Will you be all right without me, Lex?’
‘I will … I’ve got my mummy to help me.’ Lexie grinned at her mother.
Emi cast a look at her soon to be step-grandmother. Her serious expression giving away some trust issues. Then turning back to Lexie, she planted a kiss on Lexie’s cheek and announced, ‘I won’t be long.’ And ran out of the room, calling: ‘I’m coming, Xan! Don’t start without me.’
‘Xan?’ Elizabeth echoed, her eyes widening at Lexie. ‘Where did that come from?
‘Don’t know.’ Lexie shuffled into a sitting position. ‘Spontaneous contraction, I suppose.’
‘Sounds like a loo cleaner!’
‘That’s exactly what Owen said.’ Lexie leaned over for the teacup. Thanks, Mum.’
‘Did you sleep all right?’
‘I did. But it took a while to fall asleep. I was so excited about today, and it’s strange being back in my old bedroom.’
Mrs Scott straightened the bed cover. ‘You know your father wouldn’t hear of you spending the night before the wedding at your flat with Owen. It wouldn’t have been right.’
‘No, Mum.’ Lexie hid her face in the cup of tea and thought of Owen, wondering what he was doing right then in their flat. Not their flat for much longer. Soon they would move to that lovely, modern five-bedroom house on the shore at Shoreham Beach. Then they could go for long walks on the shingle. At night, they would be lulled to sleep by the sound of the sea. Then they would be man and wife. A shimmer of excitement ran through Lexie’s entire body. This day, the 20th of May 2017, was her wedding day, and it was going to be perfect. In all her years as a photographer, Lexie had seen many weddings – some good, some bad, but she was certain this one would be the best. Not because it was generously hosted by Roger Phelan in the grand surroundings of Whyton House. Simply because she was marrying Owen Kingsley, her very own Mr Right, not perfect but wonderful in so many ways.
‘Is Kate up yet?’ Lexie asked, placing the drained cup back in its saucer.
‘No, dear. Xander wanted to let her rest a while longer. With the babies due next month, he didn’t want to put any unnecessary strain on her.’
‘Or on himself.’ Lexie grinned. ‘He’s in such a panic all the time now.’
‘He loves Kate.’
‘He does, doesn’t he, Mum?’
‘And what about you, dear?’ Elizabeth settled on her daughter’s bed. ‘Are you excited about having a baby of your own?’
‘Mum! How did you know?’
