Toni’s Blog

When my sister suggested I enter Emma in the Trendy Tots competition I was dead against it.  It was only a local contest, but there’d been enough gossip when Emma was born, I didn’t want to spark off any more.  Besides, my two-year-old daughter was sadly lacking in trendy outfits!

Not that Annette listened.  She insisted it would be good fun and if the local gossips had nothing better to do than gossip about me, that was their problem.  I knew she was right and didn’t say a word when she got busy on the sewing machine.  I must admit I was pleasantly surprised by the creation which emerged, and when we arrived at the competition I rated Emma’s outfit with the best.

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous!” Annette exclaimed with pride.  Emma smiled up at me from under the floppy yellow mop cap and my heart melted.  She looked terrific in the bright blue baggy dungarees and yellow blouse, and I felt really proud when a couple of the other mothers nudged each other and looked admiringly in Emma’s direction.

While I’d been assessing the competition Annette had been assessing something else...

“Over there by the stage,” she hissed.  “In the denim jacket with the camera round his neck.  What d’you reckon?”

“Annette, don’t you ever think of anything else?” I hissed back.  All the same I followed her gaze and my heart jumped.  Tall and dark with broad shoulders and long, denim covered legs.  He was definitely worth a second look.

“I’m already spoken for,” Annette grinned.  “I was thinking of you.  It’s time you started socialising again.  Darren’s been gone a long time now.”

“Give it a rest, will you,” I muttered crossly.

I didn’t like being reminded of Emma’s father and the way he’d dumped us soon after she was born.  He’d been offered a job in Scotland.  It was best for both of us this way, he’d said.  And I’d be all right with Annette and my parents living close by.  They’d look after us.

It was then I’d sworn I’d never trust a man again and devoted all my time to Emma...

“Hello, little one.  What’s your name?”

Emma clung tightly to my hand and leaned against me shyly.  I recognised the denim clad legs straight away!

“She’s a real cute little lady, isn’t she?” he went on.

“Just like her mother,” Annette put in quickly.  I could have thumped her, but the effect this man was having on my hormones had left me flustered and tongue-tied.  Without a second thought Annette introduced herself, then Emma and me.

“I’m Sam Beckett,” he replied, but his smile was for me.  “I’m covering the event for the local paper.”

Before he had time to say any more a voice boomed over the PA system that things were about to start.  I was only vaguely aware of Emma winning second prize.  All my attention focused on the tall, good-looking guy in denim taking photos of us.

“You little angel,” Annette cried as she hugged Emma afterwards.  “Whatever those old fuddy-duddies think, you were the trendiest tot in the whole place.”

“Don’t feel bad about not winning, Karen.”  I jumped as Sam’s voice spoke close to my ear.  “For my money Emma was definitely the best.”

He smiled down at me and I went hot all over.  Before he could say anything someone called him.

“Karen, I have to go,” he said.  “But I’d like you to see the photos I took of Emma.  Where can I get in touch with you?”

He scribbled my phone number on a scrap of paper and rushed off.  As I watched him go I had to keep reminding myself that men couldn’t be trusted - but it wasn’t easy.

“He fancies you rotten,” Annette said behind me.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I snapped.  My heart was beating fast but there was no way I was going to admit I fancied him rotten, too...

I put Sam Beckett right out of my mind afterwards.  Except that I kept remembering his dark brown eyes and the way a lock of hair fell sexily over his forehead.  Anyway, he’d probably lost my phone number.  Thrown it away without thinking when he’d emptied his pockets.

And then he rang...

“Hi, Karen, how’s Emma?”

“Oh, fine,” I replied, hoping he couldn’t hear my heart hammering.

“Listen, if you’re not doing anything I’ve developed those photos,” he went on.  “So...what’s your address?”

Half an hour later Sam was sitting on my sofa while I sifted through the pile of photos.

“Emma’s photogenic and very appealing,” he said.  “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  How would you feel about me taking some proper studio shots?  Magazines are always looking for cute kids to illustrate different things.  They pay well, too.  So what d’you think?”

It was tempting, and I could certainly do with the money.  It also meant seeing Sam again.

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