Grace popped in later for coffee and frowned when she saw Rose’s swollen eyes. ‘Darling, what’s wrong?’
‘Dante rang. He wanted to take me out to dinner tomorrow.’
‘But that’s good, surely, not something to cry about?’
Rose sniffed inelegantly. ‘I turned him down.’
Grace stared at her blankly. ‘Why?’ Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘This is about Bea, isn’t it?’
‘What...what do you mean?’
‘You don’t want him to know about her. Bea’s not a dark secret, darling—it’s time you got that idea out of your system.’
Rose’s heart settled back into place again. ‘You’re right. Lord knows, my situation is hardly unusual. I saw the percentages of single parent families in the headlines on my computer only this morning.’
‘And, as one of them, you do brilliantly, darling.’
‘Ah, but I wouldn’t be without help from you and Tom. And,’ Rose added with sudden passion, ‘don’t ever think I forget that, not for a minute.’
‘I don’t. So why not ring Dante back and say you’ve changed your mind? We’ll have Bea for a sleepover and keep her out of the way if that would make things easier for you?’
Rose shook her head obstinately. ‘I’m not going to see him again.’
‘Why not? How often will you have a date with someone like Dante Fortinari?’ Grace gave a wicked grin as she straightened. ‘Your old pal Stuart Porter is very nice, but gorgeous and Italian he isn’t.’
Rose laughed ruefully. Her mother had hit the nail on the head. Quite apart from Dante as escort, expensive dinners were not part of her social life. A night out with Stuart meant a trip to the cinema and sometimes coffee or a drink afterwards, all of which she enjoyed occasionally. But dinner with Dante would have been in a different league.
‘Look, darling, why don’t we have Bea for a sleepover tomorrow anyway, and you have a whole evening to yourself and a good night’s sleep afterwards? You look as though you could do with it.’
‘I know that.’ Rose eyed her mother doubtfully. ‘I love my daughter, but a night to myself does sound tempting.’
‘Right. We’ll come for her about four. She can eat with us as a special treat and we’ll take her to school next morning, too, so you can make the most of your special treat.’
Bea was wildly excited the next day when she learned about the sleepover with Gramma and Tom. She loved the bedroom they had created for her there, so useful if Rose was ever travelling away overnight for work.
‘Are you going out with Stuart?’ asked Bea suspiciously as they packed her shiny pink holdall.
‘No, not tonight. Why? Don’t you like him?’ On the odd occasions that she’d run into Stuart while out with Bea his embarrassment had been so plain her bright little daughter had picked up on it.
Bea shook her curly head in disdain. ‘He calls me little girl.’
‘Ah. His mistake, because you’re a big girl! Shall I put Pinocchio in here with Bear or will you carry him?’