Helen Stewart knocked and then used her keys to enter the front door of a house just around the corner from hers. Such were the idiosyncratic results of joint child custody with your ex-lover. It was Friday evening and Helen was scheduled to pick up her daughter Emma for the weekend. Every weekday morning she picked Emma up and drove her to nursery school on her way to work and every Friday she took her for the weekend.

“Hello!” Helen always felt awkward when walking into Nikki's house. Nikki had only lived there for a year, the choice of house being heavily influenced by the availability of one that Helen could buy only five minutes' walk away.

“Mumumumum!” A small bundle of energy came running across the living room, a crooked ponytail bouncing as she ran. It was hard for Helen to believe that this little girl was the squalling red-faced creature she'd given birth to almost four years ago. Her daughter Emma was the single biggest joy in her life and Helen's face glowed with love as Emma threw herself at her. Helen picked her up and swung her around before hugging her fiercely.

“Hello, sweetheart.” They grinned at each other for a few seconds and then Emma wriggled to be put down. “How was school?”

“We did finger-painting and I got to wear a smock.”

“Did you now. Why was that?”

“So I wouldn't get paint on my clothes,” Emma explained patiently. “Are we doing a new book tonight?”

Emma loved having Helen read to her and Friday night was usually new-book night. The question hurt Helen because she, too, missed their storytimes during the week. She knew that Nikki read to Emma every weeknight, but whether it was Helen's Celtic knack for storytelling, or her discovery of a latent flair for drama, all three admitted that Helen was the more exciting storyteller. Nikki had finally stopped competing and read Emma stories about fascinating things in the natural and industrial world. Emma enjoyed hearing about animals and exotic places, as well as modern inventions and how they worked, but that could not compete with Helen doing the voices of Eeyore and Tigger on Saturday nights.

“We might be…” Helen teased. “Where's Mummy?”

“She's fixing the lights.” She trotted off towards the kitchen, expecting Helen to follow.

Nikki was standing on a stepladder in the kitchen, fiddling with newly installed track lighting. Emma stopped in the doorway, obviously having been instructed not to come into the room while Nikki was on the ladder, but Helen continued in. Nikki was wearing soft, worn blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Nikki's feet were bare, but Helen hardly noticed, her attention having been caught by the way Nikki's hips filled out the jeans and the way the t-shirt showed off the muscles in her slender back. The jeans were frayed at hems and waistband but Helen's eyes were drawn to the faded patches at the backs of the thighs, which were at eye-level.

There was a time when Helen would have walked over and run her hands over those patches before cupping Nikki's bottom. Now she had no right and that fact increased the feeling of emptiness that Emma's question had generated. Despite work, despite Emma, she felt a sudden, paralyzing loneliness and wished that the ache she still felt for Nikki Wade would go away. Which is why you need to do something about it, she reminded herself sternly, struggling to school her features so that what she felt would not be revealed.

Nikki dusted off her hands and climbed down from the ladder. “Let's see how that looks,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Mummy, Mum's here!” Emma's enthusiastic announcement made Nikki turn sharply. She looked startled when she saw Helen standing in the kitchen.

“Hiya!” She smiled. “I didn't hear you come in. I mean, I heard you call out, but I thought you were in the living room with the spud.”

“I heard that you were engaged in some DIY and thought I'd witness it at firsthand.”

Nikki grimaced. “Nothing major, but the lighting in here made it look more like a dungeon than a kitchen. Your house might be smaller, but it's in much better nick than this place.”

She collapsed the ladder and carried it over to a storage cupboard next to the pantry that had been a factor in her choosing this house over another that was two streets away. “So do you two have any big plans for the weekend?”

“We're doing a new book tonight,” Emma immediately volunteered.

“Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about,” Helen said, looking away. “Sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs and get your things, while I speak to Mummy?”

“Okay.” Emma raced off. She never seemed to walk anywhere unless compelled by adults to do so.

Nikki put the packing materials from the track lights into the bin and turned to look at Helen. “What is it? You look like the proverbial long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You're obviously about to tell me something you don't think I'll like.”

Helen shook her head, but she still wouldn't meet Nikki's eyes. “ Erm… not really. I mean, you might not mind. It's just that…”

“Spit it out, Helen.”

“I've been asked out on a date tomorrow night and I was hoping you could baby-sit Emma. Look, I know it's short notice and if you can't I'll understand. I know you have to work…”

Nikki held up her hand to stop the flood of words. “No problem.”

“Wh-what?” Helen couldn't believe Nikki was being so calm about it. She tried to gauge her feelings from the expression on her face, but Nikki had turned away from her and was loading dishes into the dishwasher.

“It's not a problem. I haven't taken a Saturday night off in more than six months, so Trisha can hardly kick up a fuss about it. If she's busy, I'll have Marta come over from Just Desserts to manage Chix for the evening.”

Just Desserts was the pastry and coffee shop that Nikki and Trisha had opened near Soho Square and Marta was the woman who had managed it for them for most of the last year. “Just drop Emma off here when you're on your way out.”

Helen's mouth opened and closed, but she didn't say anything.

Nikki turned to stare at her. “What?” Then realization dawned. “You want me to go over to your home to take care of her?”

“I know it's an imposition but I don't want to interrupt her routine, Nikki, and my Sunday mornings with her are so precious… to both of us, I think. I don't want to give that up just for an evening out. Especially since next weekend she'll be spending most of Sunday with Dave.”

Nikki's heart was pounding in her chest, so much so that it seemed to be affecting the functioning of her lungs. Helen had a date. She'd known this day would come. Helen was beautiful, well read, funny and sexy as hell. It was a miracle she hadn't started dating months ago. Nikki personally knew several women – and a few men – who had asked. It was an irrational relief to hear Helen characterize the date as just “an evening out”. It had been taking all her energy to hide her feelings, but hiding her feelings around Helen was something she'd grown used to doing over the last year. She blamed the giddiness of relief for the next words that came out of her mouth. “What time do you want me to come over?”

Helen's grin lit up her face and did nothing to slow the beating of Nikki's heart. “Thank you! By seven-thirty she will have had her supper and her bath and be in her pajamas. I'll even let you read her her story.”

“Hell no. I refuse to compete with you for story-time supremacy. I'll be on your doorstep at eight. Make sure the princess is ready to go to sleep when I get there.”

Whatever Helen might have been about to say was forestalled by the arrival of Emma, carrying a Winnie the Pooh backpack. “I'm ready!”

“Okay, then, we'll be off.” Helen flashed Nikki a last, grateful smile. “I'll see you tomorrow at eight.”

Helen turned to leave and Nikki watched the sway of her hips until she was out of sight. Then she poured herself a stiff whiskey and sank down into a chair at the kitchen table, blinking rapidly to ward off tears.