The Little Stranger

Chapter Seven

Jake realised taking Gemma down that particular memory lane, had perhaps not been such a good idea, He watched as she finished off the omelette. and put down the fork, her straightened poise and her whole demeaner had changed, telling him she was back on her guard and had retreated back behind that wall he had been trying to break down.

"Well, you proved your cooking skills have improved over the years, you are to be commended" she remarked, "But I am sure you have better things to do than sit here and chat about the past, so why don't I wash the dishes, and let you get on with it"

"Don't be like that Gem," Jake urged, looking a little frustrated that she was now trying to give him the brush off.

"Like what?" she feigned a look surprise, as if not knowing what he was talking about, taking the opportunity to grab his plate from him, before getting up on her feet.

"Make it seem like I don't want to spend time with you, or that I haven't got time for you, that's not the case, in fact-" but he was interrupted at that point by his phone ringing, he found himself cursing inwardly.

"You had better answer that, it could be important. Here, I'll just wash these plates for you, it's the least I can do, after you making the food," Gemma replied in the most casual tone she could muster, not knowing if she was relieved or disappointed by the interruption, whilst she hurriedly made her way over to the sink with the plates, before Jake could stop her.

Huffing a sigh, Jake reluctantly answered his phone, now wishing he had remembered to switch it of before they got talking. It was Laurence, his manager ringing him to discuss some business to do with his up and coming tour, about adding a few extra dates on some of the gig venues.

By the time he had hung up, twenty minutes later, Gemma had washed the dishes had disappeared.

He realised with a sense of annoyed frustration, that she had discreetly made her escape to the safety of her room. Now he found himself standing alone in the kitchen. Gemma had put away all the dishes and cleared up so well after them, that there was no trace of the cosy little snack he had prepared earlier, which they chatted over.

It was as if it had never happened. 

The night had not gone exactly as he had planned. But now Jake found himself standing uncertainly outside the door of Gemma's room, wondering what she was doing or what she thinking.

He was tempted to knock, but instead his hand absently rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension he was feeling, whilst he was trying to make up his mind if he should disturb her.

Would he make things better or worse? He wasn't even sure what he was going to say, without it making him sound desperate and needy sixteen-year-old boy again, and then she would probably tell him he was being silly, and use it as an excuse to retreat further away from him.

He grudgingly relented that the moment was lost as soon as the phone had rung earlier, and perhaps it was better not to push it any further tonight.

Instead he found himself going across the hallway, into his daughter's room to check on her.

Ellie was sprawled out on her back in her cot, still fast asleep. Her blanket, was half kicked off and rucked around her legs. Jake lightly pulled it back over to her chest, careful not to disturb and waken her.

His hands resting lightly on the cot rails, Jake stared down at her, still in awe that this was his daughter.

Of course, when he had returned to England with her, Laurence had advised him getting a DNA test done, just to make sure. Jake had refused to think about the results either way and what he would do. But in the end, they had come back as a positive match that she was definitely his daughter, and it hit him then, there was no escaping responsibility for her.