Page 11 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

They’d be trying to close up for the weekend. All the other little ones would be gone. Just her baby left all alone with one solitary, resentful member of staff. What sort of mother did that?

‘I’ll call Little Acorns for you,’ Andrea said, steering Clare to the door and handing her the zipped-up laptop bag and the bunch of roses. ‘And let them know you’re on your way.’

All the senior team knew which nursery Clare sent Ivy to during the school day. She’d made sure of it. Just in case anything happened to her. Because if, for some reason, Clare wasn’t there to pick her up, there was no one else.

‘They close at six,’ Clare swallowed a sob. ‘I’m not going to be there for ages yet and with Friday traffic—’

‘But you will get there,’ said Andrea calmly, closing Clare’s office door behind them. ‘And Ivy will be fine. Take some deep breaths, drive safely and I’ll see you in September.’

‘OK. Yes. Thanks.’ Tears pricked at Clare’s eyes.

It was always the way when someone did something kind. Especially now that it happened so rarely.

‘Hurry!’ Andrea flapped her away, scrolling through her own phone for the number.

So Clare did.

It was an excruciating forty minutes before Clare pulled into the Little Acorns car park. Her hands were sweaty on the steering wheel, and she felt sick with guilt. This wasn’t her first offence; she’d been one or two minutes late before when she’d got embroiled in a meeting or been stuck in traffic. But forgetting about Ivy completely – this was a new low.

She yanked the keys from the ignition and raced to the security gate on shaky legs. She fumbled with the code, and it took her two attempts to gain access. She closed the gate firmly behind her, even though there were apparently no other children left to escape.

The nursery manager, Anya, was waiting in the front garden with Ivy in her arms. Clare felt a wave of relief; she got on well with Anya, she was a young mum herself and no stranger to the demands of juggling a career with childcare.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Clare exclaimed, scurrying towards them.

Anya smiled and handed Ivy over. ‘Here’s Mummy, look.’

For a moment, Clare didn’t speak. The relief of having her baby safely back in her arms was overwhelming. The soft fuzz of her hair, the scent of her peachy skin. She rested her cheek on the crown of Ivy’s head and felt the tension ebb away. ‘My precious girl.’

Ivy clapped her hands, evidently none the worse for being the last kid in the nursery.

‘Is that applause for me,’ Clare said, rocking her from side to side. ‘Are you clapping because I’m finally here?’

‘We were getting a bit anxious.’ Anya took Ivy’s little rucksack, containing spare clothes, sun hat and sunscreen, off her own shoulder and handed it to Clare.

‘I can’t apologise enough, it’s been one of those days.’ Clare heard the tremble in her own voice as she stroked the tiny curls at the nape of Ivy’s neck. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘I understand. But we have strict rules about lateness, which we have to adhere to. Imagine if all the parents did it.’ Anya’s voice was firm, but she softened the impact by tickling Ivy’s tummy, making the little girl squeal.

They wouldn’t though, would they, Clare thought despondently, because they were probably all better parents than her, with proper backup for emergencies. Not some lone operator juggling all the balls like she was.

‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘There’s a late collection fee, I know, and I’m happy to pay it. No question.’

‘It’ll be added to the next invoice …’ Anya paused, ‘… along with the other late collection fees this month.’

‘Fine, fine,’ said Clare, hiding her embarrassment by peering into Ivy’s bag to check everything was there. ‘We’ll be off now, let you close up. Thanks again.’

‘Um, I think you might have something on your trousers?’ Anya waved a finger vaguely at Clare’s crotch area.

She looked down at the brown blob on her white linen trousers and groaned. More last-minute laundry. Melted chocolate. ‘I missed lunch so I ate a Magnum ice cream at my desk. Must have dropped some.’

Anya gave her a reproving look. ‘We had fish pie and peas for lunch today, didn’t we, Ivy?’

‘Very healthy,’ said Clare, feeling judged. ‘Tomorrow we’re off to Salcombe to stay with my godmother for a while. She’s an amazing cook, so we’ll be eating lots of wonderful home-cooked meals.’

Ivy started to arch her back, wanting to be put down. She wasn’t walking on her own yet, but loved holding on to Clare’s fingers and staggering around their flat.

Anya put her hand on Clare’s arm and nudged her gently down the path towards the car park. ‘I’d love a godmother to look after me for a change, that sounds fantastic.’