Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels by Sara Downing Read Free Book Online
Authors: Sara Downing
own, Mum?’ Mark suggested, as though travelling solo was something which wouldn’t now occur to his once highly independent mother. ‘Jump on the train and I’ll come and get you from the station in Purbrook. The little chap needs to see his Grandma, he can’t wait too long, you know!’ But of course everyone knew that his parents coming to see the baby was purely for him, not for Bertie – Mark was bursting to show off the best thing he’d ever done in his life and have this success sealed with the stamp of parental approval.
He hoped his suggestion would cheer his mother up a bit. There was nothing to stop her coming, was there, even if Bruce was being a complete curmudgeon.
Mark was sure his father loved him, in his own individual way, but it would be nice if he could demonstrate that through his actions now and again. He resolved not to adopt the same, quietly distant parenting style as his father; for Mark, family would always come before work. He wondered how he would even cope with leaving Bertie for more than a few minutes when his paternity leave was over. He couldn’t imagine his son ever being out of his sight from now on; when he was with him, he couldn’t take his eyes off the child.
Mark could never say he had had an unhappy childhood, because he hadn’t. To the casual observer it might even have seemed a charmed existence: expensive private school in a West London suburb, where he displayed an aptitude for sport and was hugely popular with his peers. Later he had been the darling of the nearby girls’ grammar, remarkably even through the spots-and-braces stage, which in true Mark style he had weathered pretty well. And then he had graduated and fallen straight on his feet into a prominent legal career. Despite the ease with which everything in his life seemed to happen, nothing had just dropped into his lap; each success had been worked hard for and was well deserved. Of course there was an element of luck thrown in too, but so many things could have gone in so many different ways, and changed the course of his life completely.
The bugbear in Mark’s childhood and teenage years had been home and family. Sometimes he wondered why his parents had had children, which wasn’t a terribly healthy thought for a young and impressionable boy to harbour. His parents were seldom home, and when they were, there were always other priorities: phone calls, cases to prepare for, reports to produce, all of which held a far greater draw on their attention than he and David ever could. Occasionally an au pair would be drafted in, an extra pair of hands to help with the practical things like doing the washing and feeding the boys. But what he didn’t get from this string of enthusiastic young girls was the love and affection he so desperately craved. Sometimes all he wanted was nothing more than his mother’s kiss on his cheek at bedtime, not a stranger’s. It wasn’t much to ask, was it, for one of his parents to be home from work before he went to bed?
Mark had always been ambitious, and still was, but when he held his tiny baby boy for the first time, and felt the stirrings of that all-consuming unconditional love that would be with him for the rest of his life, he vowed that nothing would ever be more important to him than this little person. He had already proved to Alex that he could be a wonderful father – he dearly loved her three children – but this was something entirely new. This child was a small and joyful part of him, all the good bits and none of the bad. He would be the best father there ever was.
July 2015
‘Mum, there’s someone at the door,’ Archie said, as he helped himself to another roast potato. Mabel, the latest addition to their family, a normally docile Golden Labrador from the rescue centre, barked furiously in the hall.
‘We’re not expecting anyone, are we?’ Mark asked. Sunday lunch in the Hopper household
He hoped his suggestion would cheer his mother up a bit. There was nothing to stop her coming, was there, even if Bruce was being a complete curmudgeon.
Mark was sure his father loved him, in his own individual way, but it would be nice if he could demonstrate that through his actions now and again. He resolved not to adopt the same, quietly distant parenting style as his father; for Mark, family would always come before work. He wondered how he would even cope with leaving Bertie for more than a few minutes when his paternity leave was over. He couldn’t imagine his son ever being out of his sight from now on; when he was with him, he couldn’t take his eyes off the child.
Mark could never say he had had an unhappy childhood, because he hadn’t. To the casual observer it might even have seemed a charmed existence: expensive private school in a West London suburb, where he displayed an aptitude for sport and was hugely popular with his peers. Later he had been the darling of the nearby girls’ grammar, remarkably even through the spots-and-braces stage, which in true Mark style he had weathered pretty well. And then he had graduated and fallen straight on his feet into a prominent legal career. Despite the ease with which everything in his life seemed to happen, nothing had just dropped into his lap; each success had been worked hard for and was well deserved. Of course there was an element of luck thrown in too, but so many things could have gone in so many different ways, and changed the course of his life completely.
The bugbear in Mark’s childhood and teenage years had been home and family. Sometimes he wondered why his parents had had children, which wasn’t a terribly healthy thought for a young and impressionable boy to harbour. His parents were seldom home, and when they were, there were always other priorities: phone calls, cases to prepare for, reports to produce, all of which held a far greater draw on their attention than he and David ever could. Occasionally an au pair would be drafted in, an extra pair of hands to help with the practical things like doing the washing and feeding the boys. But what he didn’t get from this string of enthusiastic young girls was the love and affection he so desperately craved. Sometimes all he wanted was nothing more than his mother’s kiss on his cheek at bedtime, not a stranger’s. It wasn’t much to ask, was it, for one of his parents to be home from work before he went to bed?
Mark had always been ambitious, and still was, but when he held his tiny baby boy for the first time, and felt the stirrings of that all-consuming unconditional love that would be with him for the rest of his life, he vowed that nothing would ever be more important to him than this little person. He had already proved to Alex that he could be a wonderful father – he dearly loved her three children – but this was something entirely new. This child was a small and joyful part of him, all the good bits and none of the bad. He would be the best father there ever was.
July 2015
‘Mum, there’s someone at the door,’ Archie said, as he helped himself to another roast potato. Mabel, the latest addition to their family, a normally docile Golden Labrador from the rescue centre, barked furiously in the hall.
‘We’re not expecting anyone, are we?’ Mark asked. Sunday lunch in the Hopper household