Cleo watched the snow fall softly outside the nursery window, before her attention deviated to the interior once more. The vintage toys made a pleasing arrangement on the window ledge, the red and blue kaleidoscope, a wooden train and alphabet bricks.
They had done well with the nursery, with considerable help from her dad of course. Cleo took in the overall calming effect, of the rose wallpaper, burgundy curtains, sandy carpet and pine furniture, with satisfaction.
They had also done extremely well with what now lay in the pale pine and pink linen lined cot. Cleo looked down with deep affection at her baby daughter's soft brown hair and sweet face. She sang quietly, a couple of lines from an old fashioned song.
Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me ...
'I love you,' whispered Cleo, gently kissing her daughter's forehead, 'Goodnight Julia.'
Cleo placed a ragged one-eyed teddy at the foot of Julia's cot and left the little girl to her peaceful dreams.
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