Читать онлайн книгу "Maybe This Christmas…?"
Maybe This Christmas…?
Alison Roberts
Praise for Alison Roberts:
�Readers will be moved by this incredibly sweet story about a family that is created in the most unexpected way.’
—RT Book Reviews on
THE HONOURABLE MAVERICK
�I had never read anything by Alison Roberts prior to reading TWINS FOR CHRISTMAS, but after reading this enchanting novella
I shall certainly add her name to my auto-buy list!’—Cataromance.com on TWINS FOR CHRISTMAS
�Ms Roberts produces her usual entertaining blend of medicine and romance in just the right proportion, with a brooding but compelling hero and both leads with secrets to hide.’
—Mills and Boon
website reader review on
NURSE, NANNY… BRIDE!
Maybe
This Christmas…?
Alison Roberts
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
About the Author
ALISON ROBERTS lives in Christchurch, New Zealand and has written over sixty Medical Romances
. As a qualified paramedic, she has personal experience of the drama and emotion to be found in the world of medical professionals, and loves to weave stories with this rich background—especially when they can have a happy ending.
When Alison is not writing you’ll find her indulging her passion for dancing or spending time with her friends (including Molly the dog) and her daughter Becky, who has grown up to become a brilliant artist. She also loves to travel, hates housework and considers it a triumph when the flowers outnumber the weeds in her garden.
Mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance
gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com MAYBE THIS CHRISTMAS…?
Recent titles by Alison Roberts:
THE LEGENDARY PLAYBOY SURGEON*** (#ulink_0cbd4878-1acf-5f2b-a93c-dad92c7c034d)
FALLING FOR HER IMPOSSIBLE BOSS*** (#ulink_0cbd4878-1acf-5f2b-a93c-dad92c7c034d)
SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL: ZOE’S BABY** (#ulink_fe3e570c-96e4-5ef4-a4ae-2e28ba2c2fdb)
THE HONOURABLE MAVERICK
THE UNSUNG HERO
ST PIRAN’S: THE BROODING HEART SURGEON†(#ulink_d8a70729-4f0b-57b0-af52-39719174ea1d)
THE MARRY-ME WISH* (#ulink_31262a2a-aed1-5bf0-a2f3-de3f48dd0d67)
** (#ulink_1607aef9-3ec4-5eae-8ef3-e5d433bfcca1)Sydney Harbour Hospital
* (#ulink_dfcea950-6b3b-5fbe-800b-5bc117bd8d2c)Part of the Baby Gift collection
†(#ulink_e1e1fa4d-d7b9-5d64-bd67-a775036e376e)St Piran’s Hospital
*** (#ulink_18612726-6ce8-550e-969a-9382dfc331e7)Heartbreakers of St Patrick’s Hospital
These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Did you know that THE HONOURABLE MAVERICK won the 2011 RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice
Award for Best Mills and Boon
Medical Romance
?
It’s still available in eBook format from
www.millsandboon.co.uk
CHAPTER ONE
�HER name’s Sophie Gillespie. She’s six months old.’
A surprisingly heavy burden, but perhaps that was because Gemma hadn’t thought to bring a pushchair and she’d been holding the baby on her hip for far too long already. The A and E department of the Queen Mary Infirmary in Manchester, England, was heaving and, because it was Christmas Eve, it all seemed rather surreal.
Reams of tired-looking tinsel had been strung in loops along the walls. A bunch of red and green balloons had been tied to the display screen, currently advertising the waiting time as being an hour and a half. And if they were this busy when it wasn’t quite seven p.m., Gemma knew that the waiting time would only increase as new cases came in by ambulance and demanded the attention of the doctors and nurses on duty in the department.
�Look… this is an emergency.’
�Uh-huh?’
The middle-aged receptionist looked as if she’d seen it all. And she probably had. There was a group of very drunk teenage girls in naughty elf costumes singing and shouting loudly in a corner of the reception area. One of them was holding a bloodstained cloth to her face. Another was holding a vomit bag. A trio of equally drunk young men was watching the elves with appreciation and trying to outdo each other with wolf whistles. The expressions on the faces of the people between the groups were long-suffering. A woman sitting beside a small, crying boy looked to be at the end of her tether and she was glaring at Gemma, who appeared to be attempting to queue jump.
The receptionist peered over her glasses at Sophie, who wasn’t helping. Thanks to the dose of paracetamol she’d given her as she’d left the house, the baby was looking a lot better than she had been. Her face was still flushed and her eyes over-bright but she wasn’t crying with that frightening, high-pitched note any more. She was, in fact, smiling at the receptionist.
�She’s running a temperature,’ Gemma said. �She’s got a rash.’
�It’s probably just a virus. Take a seat, please, ma’am. We’ll get her seen as soon as possible.’
�What—in a couple of hours?’
Gemma could feel the heat radiating off the baby in her arms. She could feel the way Sophie was slumped listlessly against her body. The smile was fading and any moment now Sophie would start crying again. She took a deep breath.
�As soon as possible might be too late,’ she snapped. �She needs to be seen now. Please…’ she added, trying to keep her voice from wavering. �I just need to rule out the possibility that it’s meningitis.’
�Rule out?’ The receptionist peered over her glasses again, this time at Gemma. �What are you, a doctor?’
�Yes, I am.’ Gemma knew her tone lacked conviction. Could she still claim to be a doctor when it had been so long since she’d been anywhere near a patient?
�Not at this hospital you’re not.’
Gemma closed her eyes for a heartbeat. �I used to be.’
�And you’re an expert in meningitis, then? What… you’re going to tell me you’re a paediatrician?’
Like the other woman waiting with a child, the receptionist clearly thought Gemma was trying to queue jump. And now there were people behind her, waiting to check in. One was a man in a dinner suit with a firm hold around the waist of a woman in an elegant black dress who had a halo of silver tinsel on her head.
�Can you hurry up?’ the man said loudly. �My wife needs help here.’
Sophie whimpered and Gemma knew she had to do something fast. Something she had sworn not to do. She took another deep breath and leaned closer to the hole in the bulletproof glass protecting the reception area.
�No, I’m not a paediatrician and I don’t work at this hospital.’ Her tone of voice was enough to encourage the receptionist to make eye contact. �But my husband does.’ At least, he did, as far as she knew. He could have moved on, though, couldn’t he? In more ways than just where he worked. �And he is a paediatrician,’ she added, mentally crossing her fingers that this information would be enough to get her seen faster.
�Oh? What’s his name, then?’
�Andrew Baxter.’
The woman behind her groaned and clutched her stomach. The man pushed past Gemma.
�For God’s sake, I think my wife might be having a miscarriage.’
The receptionist’s eyes had widened at Gemma’s words. Now they widened even further as her gaze flicked to the next person in the queue and a look of alarm crossed her face. She leapt to her feet, signalling for assistance from other staff members. Moments later, the man and his wife were being ushered through the internal doors. The receptionist gave Gemma an apologetic glance.
�I won’t be long. I’ll get you seen next and… and I’ll find out if your husband’s on call.’
No. That was the last thing Gemma wanted.
Oh… Lord. What would Andy think if someone told him that his wife was in Reception? That she was holding a child that she thought might have meningitis?
He’d think it was his worst nightmare. The ghost of a Christmas past that he’d probably spent the last six years trying to forget.
Just like she had.
Dr Andrew Baxter was in his favourite place in the world. The large dayroom at the end of Queen Mary’s paediatric ward.
He was admiring the enormous Christmas tree the staff had just finished decorating and he found himself smiling as he thought about the huge sack of gifts hiding in the sluice room that he would be in charge of distributing tomorrow when he was suitably dressed in his Santa costume.
It was hard to believe there had been a time when he hadn’t been able to bring himself to come into this area of the ward. Especially at this particular time of year. When he’d been focused purely on the children who were too sick to enjoy this room with its bright decorations and abundance of toys.
Time really did heal, didn’t it?
It couldn’t wipe out the scars, of course. Andy knew there was a poignant ache behind his smile and he knew that he’d have to field a few significantly sympathetic glances from his colleagues tomorrow, but he could handle it now.
Enjoy it, even. And that was more than he’d ever hoped would be the case.
With it being after seven p.m., the dayroom would normally be empty as children were settled into bed for the night but here, just like in the outside world, Christmas Eve sparkled with a particular kind of magic that meant normal rules became rather flexible.
Four-year-old Ruth, who was recovering from a bone-marrow transplant to treat her leukaemia, was still at risk for infection but her dad, David, had carried her as far as the door so that she could see the tree. They were both wearing gowns and hats and had masks covering their faces but Andy saw the way David whispered in his daughter’s ear and then pointed. He could see the way the child’s eyes grew wide with wonder and then sense the urgency of the whisper back to her father.
Andy stepped closer.
�Hello, gorgeous.’ He smiled at Ruth. �Do you like our Christmas tree?’
A shy nod but then Ruth buried her face against her father’s neck.
�Ruthie’s worried that Father Christmas won’t come to the hospital.’
�He always comes,’ Andy said.
His confidence was absolute and why wouldn’t it be? He’d been filling the role for years now and knew he could carry it off to perfection. Being tall and broad, it was easy to pad himself out with a couple of pillows so that his body shape was unrecognisable. The latest beard and moustache was a glue-on variety that couldn’t be tugged off by a curious child and it was luxuriant enough to disguise him completely once the hat was in place.
Ruth’s eyes appeared again and, after a brief glance at Andy, she whispered in her father’s ear again. David grinned at Andy.
�She wants to know if he’s going to bring her a present.’
�Sure is.’ Andy nodded. There would be more than one that had Ruth’s name on it. Every child on the ward had a parcel set aside for them from the pile of the donated gifts and parents were invited to put something special into Santa’s sack as well. Not that Ruth would be able to join the throng that gathered around the tree for the ceremony but, if her latest test results were good, she should be able to watch from behind the windows and receive her gifts at a safer distance.
�Of course, he can’t come to deliver the presents until all the girls and boys are asleep,’ Andy added, with a wink at David. �Might be time for bed?’
Ruth looked at him properly this time. �But… how does he know I’m in hos—in… hostible?’
Andy knew his face was solemn. �He just does,’ he said calmly. �Santa’s magic. Christmas is magic.’
He watched David carry Ruth back to her room, making a mental note to chase up the latest lab results on this patient later tonight. He might put in a quick call to her specialist consultant as well, to discuss what participation might be allowable tomorrow.
Andrew Baxter was a general paediatrician. He was the primary consultant for medical cases that were admitted to the ward and stayed involved if they were referred on to surgeons, but he was also involved in every other case that came through these doors in some way. The �outside’ world was pretty irrelevant these days. This was his world. His home.
It didn’t matter if the young patients were admitted under an oncologist for cancer treatment or a specialist paediatric cardiologist for heart problems or an orthopaedic surgeon who was dealing with a traumatic injury. Andy was an automatic part of the team. He knew every child who was in here and some of them he knew extremely well because they got admitted more than once or stayed for a long time.
Like John Boy, who was still in the dayroom, circling the tree as he watched the fairy-lights sparkling. Eleven years old, John Boy had a progressive and debilitating syndrome that led to myriad physical challenges and his life expectancy was no more than fifteen to twenty years at best. If the cardiologists couldn’t deal with the abnormalities that were causing a degree of heart failure this time, that life expectancy could be drastically reduced.
Of mixed race, with ultra-curly black hair and a wide, white smile, the lad had been fostered out since birth but had spent more of his life in hospital than out of it and he was a firm favourite on this ward. With his frail, twisted body now confined to a wheelchair, John Boy had lost none of his sense of humour and determination to cause mischief.
Right now, he was making some loud and rather disgusting noises, his head hanging almost between his knees. Andy moved swiftly.
�Hey, John Boy! What’s going on?’
John Boy groaned impressively and waved his hand feebly. Andy looked down and stepped back hurriedly from the pile of vomit on the floor.
�Oh… no…’
A nurse, Carla, was climbing down the ladder she had used to fasten the huge star on the top of the tree.
�Oh no,’ she echoed, but she was laughing. �Not again, John Boy. That plastic vomit joke is getting old, you know?’
Andy nudged the offensive-looking puddle with his foot. Sure enough, the edge lifted cleanly. John Boy was laughing so hard he had to hold onto the side of his wheelchair to stop him falling out and the sound was so contagious everybody in the room was either laughing or smiling. The noise level was almost enough to drown out the sound of Andy’s pager.
Still grinning, he walked to the wall phone and took the call. Within seconds his grin was only a memory and the frown on his face was enough to raise Carla’s eyebrows. She straightened swiftly from picking up the plastic vomit. She dropped it in John Boy’s lap, which caused a new paroxysm of mirth.
�What’s up, Andy?’
But he couldn’t tell her. He didn’t want to tell anyone. It couldn’t be true, surely? He kept his eyes focused on John Boy instead. On a patient. An anchor in his real world.
�His lips are getting blue,’ he growled. �Get him back to his room and get some oxygen on, would you, please, Carla?’
He knew they were both staring at him as he left the room. He knew that the tone of his voice had been enough to stop John Boy laughing as if a switch had been flicked off and he hated it that he’d been responsible for that.
But he hadn’t been able to prevent that tone. Not when he was struggling to hold back so many memories. Bad memories.
Oh… God… If this was really happening, why on earth did it have to happen tonight of all nights?
The emergency department was packed to the gills.
Andy entered through the internal double doors. Serious cases were filling the resuscitation bays. He could see an elderly man hooked up to monitors, sitting up and struggling to breathe even with the assistance of CPAP. Heart failure secondary to an infarction, probably. Ambulance officers were still hovering in the next bay where a trauma victim was being assessed. One of them was holding a cyclist’s helmet, which was in two pieces. The next bay had staff intubating an unconscious man. A woman was standing in the corner of the bay, sobbing.
�I told him not to go up on the roof,’ Andy heard her gasp. �I didn’t even want a stupid flashing reindeer.’
The cubicles were next and they were also full. One had a very well-dressed woman lying on the bed, a crooked tinsel halo still on her head.
�Can’t you do something?’ The man with her was glaring at the poor junior registrar. �She’s pregnant, for God’s sake…’
So many people who were having their Christmas Eves ruined by illness or accident. This would have been a very depressing place to be except for the numerous staff members. Some of the nurses were wearing Santa hats or had flashing earrings. All of them, even the ones having to deal with life-threatening situations, were doing it with skill and patience and as much good cheer as was possible. Andy caught more than one smile of greeting. These people were his colleagues. The closest thing he had to family, in fact.
He smiled back and reached the central station to find a nurse he’d actually taken out once, a long time ago. Julia had made it very clear that she was disappointed it had never gone any further and she greeted him now with a very warm smile.
�Andy… Merry Christmas, almost.’
�You, too.’ Julia’s long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail that had tinsel wound around the top. �You guys look busy.’
�One of our biggest nights. Have you just come to visit?’
�No, I got paged. A baby…’ Andy had to swallow rather hard. �Query meningitis?’
Julia looked up at the glass board with the spaces for each cubicle had names and details that it was her job tonight to keep updated. �Doesn’t ring a bell…’
�Brought in by a woman called Gemma… Baxter.’ The hesitation was momentary but significant. Would Gemma have gone back to her maiden name by now? She couldn’t have got married again. Not when they’d never formalised a divorce. Julia didn’t seem to notice the surname and Andy hurried on. �Someone called Janice called it through.’
�Janice?’ Julia looked puzzled. �She’s on Reception. In the waiting room.’ Julia frowned. �If she’s got a query meningitis it should have come through as a priority. I hope she’s not waiting for a bed or something. Let me go and check.’
�That’s OK, I’ll do that.’ He could almost hear the wheels turning for Julia now. She was staring at him with an odd expression.
�Did you say her name was Baxter? Is she a relative?’
Was she? Did it still count if you were still legally married to someone even if they’d simply walked out of your life?
Andy had reached the external set of double doors that led into the waiting room. He spotted Gemma the instant he pushed through the doors. It didn’t matter that the place was crowded and it should have been hard to find anybody—his gaze went unswervingly straight towards her as if it was some kind of magnetic force.
The impact was enough to stop him in his tracks for a moment.
His head was telling him that it didn’t count. Their marriage had been over a very long time ago and there was nothing there for him now.
His heart was telling him something very different.
This was the woman he had vowed to love, honour and cherish until they were parted by death. He’d meant every single word of those marriage vows.
For a moment, Andy could ignore everything that had happened since the day those vows had been spoken. He could forget about the way they’d been driven apart by forces too overwhelming for either of them to even begin to fight. He could forget that it had been years since he’d seen Gemma or heard the sound of her voice.
What he couldn’t forget was what had drawn them together in the first place. That absolute surety that they were perfect for each other.
True soul mates.
For just that blink of time that pure feeling, one far too big to be enclosed by a tiny word like love, shone out of the dark corner of his heart that had been locked and abandoned for so long.
And… and that glow hurt, dammit.
Sophie was starting to grizzle again.
Gemma bounced her gently and started walking in a small circle, away from the queue waiting to see the receptionist. What was going on? She’d been told to wait but she’d expected to at least be shown through to a cubicle in the department. With the drama of the staff rushing to attend to the woman having a threatened miscarriage she seemed to have been forgotten.
Had they rung Andy? Was he on call or… even worse, had they rung him at home and made him feel obliged to come in on Christmas Eve and sort out a ghost from his past?
Oh… Lord. He probably had a new partner by now. He might even have his own kids. Except, if that was the case, why hadn’t he contacted her to ask for a divorce? She’d had no contact at all. For four years. Ever since she’d packed that bag and—
�Gemma?’
The voice was angry. And it was male, but even before Gemma whirled to face the speaker she knew it wasn’t Andy.
�Simon! What are you doing here?’
Not only was it Simon, he had the children in tow. All of them. Seven-year-old Hazel, five-year-old Jamie and the twins, Chloe and Ben, who were three and a half.
�Go on,’ she heard him snap. �There she is.’
Hazel, bless her, was hanging onto a twin with each hand and hauling them forward. No easy task because they were clearly exhausted. What were they doing out of bed? They’d been asleep when Gemma had left the house and they were in their pyjamas and rubbing bleary eyes now, as though they hadn’t woken up properly. Ben was clutching his favourite soft toy as if afraid someone was about to rip it out of his arms.
A sudden fear gripped Gemma. They were sick. With whatever Sophie had wrong with her.
But why was Simon here? OK, he’d arrived at the house a few minutes before the babysitter had been due and she’d had to rush off with Sophie but… but Hazel’s bottom lip was wobbling and she was like another little mother to these children and never cried.
�Oh… hon come here.’ Gemma balanced Sophie with one arm and held the other one out to gather Hazel and the twins close. �It’s all right…’
�No, it’s not.’ Simon had a hand on Jamie’s shoulder, pushing the small boy towards her. �Your babysitter decided not to show.’
�What? Oh, no…’
�She rang. Had a car accident or some such excuse.’
�Oh, my God! Is she all right?’
�She sounded fine.’ Simon shook his head. �Look, I’m sorry, Gemma but, you know… I had no idea what I was signing up for here.’
�No.’ Of course he hadn’t. This had been a blind date that an old friend had insisted on setting her up with. Just a glass of wine, she’d said. At your local. Just see if you like him. He’s gorgeous. And rich. And single.
There was no denying that Simon was good looking. Blond, blue-eyed and extremely well dressed, too. And… smooth was the first thought that had come to mind when she’d let him into the house. But definitely not her type. He’d been horrified when she’d said she had to get Sophie to the hospital and could he please wait until the babysitter arrived.
And…
�How did you get them here?’
�I drove, of course. You practically live in the next county.’
Hardly. The house was rural, certainly, but on the very edge of the city, which made Queen Mary’s the closest hospital, otherwise Gemma would have gone somewhere else.
�What about the car seats?’
�Ooh, look…’ Jamie was pointing to the area of the waiting room set up to cater for children. �There’s toys.’ He trotted off.
�He didn’t use them,’ Hazel said. �I told him and he…’ Her breath hitched. �He told me to shut up.’
Gemma’s jaw dropped. She stared at Simon, who simply shrugged.
�Look, I could’ve left them in the house. If Jane had told me anything more than that you were a cute, single chick who was desperate for a date, I wouldn’t have come near you with a bargepole. I don’t do kids.’
Chloe chose that moment to hold her arms up, asking to be cuddled. When it didn’t happen instantly, she burst into tears. Sophie’s grizzles turned into a full-blown wail. Ben sat down on the floor and buried his face against the well-worn fluff of his toy. Simon looked at them all for a second, shook his head in disbelief, turned on his heel and walked out.
Gemma had no idea what to do first. Hazel was pressed against her, her skinny little body shaking with repressed sobs. Gemma didn’t need to look down. She knew that there would be tears streaming down Hazel’s cheeks. Both Chloe and Sophie were howling and… Where on earth had Jamie got to?
Wildly, Gemma scanned the waiting room as she tried to tamp down the escalating tension from the sounds of miserable children all around her. The action came to a juddering halt, however, when her gaze collided with a person who’d been standing there watching the whole, horrible scene with Simon.
A man who had shaggy brown hair instead of groomed blond waves. Brown eyes, not blue. Who couldn’t be considered well dressed with his crooked tie and shirtsleeves that were trying to come down from where they’d been rolled up. But her type?
Oh… yes. The archetype, in fact. Because this was Andy. The man she’d fallen in love with. The man she’d known would be the only one for her for the rest of her life. For just an instant, Gemma could forget that this was the man whose life she’d done her best to ruin because the first wave of emotion to hit her was one of…
Relief.
Thank God. No matter what happened in this next micro-chapter of her life, she could deal with it if she had Andy nearby.
Her touchstone.
The rock that had been missing from her life for so long. Yes, she’d learned to stand on her own two feet but the ground had never felt solid enough to trust. To put roots into.
The blessed relief that felt like a homecoming twisted almost instantly into something else, however. Fear?
He hadn’t said her name but he looked as angry as Simon had been when he’d stormed into the waiting room of Queen Mary’s.
Or… maybe it wasn’t anger. She’d seen that kind of look before, during a fight. Partly anger but also pain. And bewilderment. The result of being attacked when you didn’t know quite what it was about and why you deserved it in the first place.
Gemma didn’t know what to say. Maybe Andy didn’t either. He was looking at the baby in her arms.
�I’ll take her,’ he said. �You bring the others and follow me.’
CHAPTER TWO
THANK heavens there was a sick baby to assess.
It was another blessing that Andy had had plenty of practice in using a professional mode to override personal pain. This might be the best test yet, mind you.
Gemma’s baby?
She had found someone to take his place in her life and she’d had his baby? A baby he now had cradled in his own arms as he led the way from the waiting room into the business area of the emergency department. Gemma was a good few steps behind him. He hadn’t waited quite long enough for her to scoop up the youngest girl and send the oldest one to fetch the boy called Jamie from the playpen.
Jamie?
Something was struggling to escape from the part of his brain he was overriding but Andy didn’t dare release the circuit breaker he’d had to slam on within seconds of walking into that waiting room.
That first glimpse of Gemma had hit him like an emotional sledgehammer. The power of that initial, soul-deep response had had the potential to destroy him utterly if he hadn’t been able to shut it down fast. Fortunately, some automatic survival instinct had kicked in and extinguished that blinding glow. Shutting off his emotional response had left him with a lens focused on physical attributes and… astonishingly, it could have been yesterday that he’d last seen her.
OK, her hair was longer. Those luxuriant brown waves had barely touched her shoulders back then and they were in a loose plait that hung down to the middle of her back now. Same colour, though, and even in the artificial glare of the neon strip lighting in here it was alive with sparks of russet and deep gold. She’d filled out a little, too, but that only made her look more like the woman he’d fallen in love with instead of the pale shadow that had slipped out of his life four years ago.
How much worse was it going to be when he was close enough to see her eyes? Nobody else in the world had Gemma’s eyes. They might share that glowing hazel shade but he’d never seen anyone with the unusual gold rims around the irises and the matching chips in their depths.
So far, by concentrating on the small people around her, Andy had managed to avoid more than a grazing glance. He was still avoiding direct eye contact as he walked briskly ahead of her.
He was getting close to the triage desk now and Julia was watching his approach. Or rather she was staring at the small train of followers he knew he had. Gemma must look like the old woman from the shoe, he thought grimly. So many children she didn’t know what to do.
The irony would be unbearable if he let himself go there.
�Space?’ he queried crisply. �Query meningitis here.’
�Um…’ Julia gave her head a tiny shake and turned it to glance over her shoulder at the board. �Resus One’s just been cleared… but—’
�Thanks.’ Andy didn’t give her time to say that it probably needed to be kept clear for a more urgent case. The privacy and space of one of the larger areas would be ideal to contain this unacceptably large group. It wasn’t until he led them all into the space he realised that isolating himself from the hubbub of the cubicles would only intensify the undercurrents happening here but, by then, it was too late.
A nurse had just finished smoothing a clean sheet onto the bed. Andy laid the baby down gently. Her wails had diminished as he’d carried her here but the volume got turned up as he put her down and she was rubbing her eyes with small, tight fists. Was the light hurting her? Andy angled the lamp away.
�What’s going on?’ he asked. It was quite easy to ask the question without looking directly at Gemma. Right now she was just another parent of a sick child.
�Fever, irritability, refusing food.’ Gemma’s voice was strained. �She vomited once and her cry sounded…’ her voice wavered �… kind of high-pitched.’
Andy focused on the baby. He slid one hand behind her head. Lifting it gently, he was relieved to see her neck flex. If this was a case of meningitis, it was at an early stage but he could feel the heat from the skin beneath wisps of golden hair darkened by perspiration.
�Let’s get her undressed,’ he told the nurse. �I’d like some baseline vital signs, too, thanks.’
Hard to assess a rate of breathing when a baby was this distressed, of course. And the bulging fontanelle could be the result of the effort of crying rather than anything more sinister. Andy straightened for a moment, frowning, as he tried to take in an overall impression.
It didn’t help that there were so many other children in here. The small girl in Gemma’s arms was still whimpering and the older boy was whining.
�But why can’t I go and play with the toys?’
�Shh, Jamie.’ The older girl gave him a shove. �Sophie’s sick. She might be going to die.’
Andy’s eyebrows reversed direction and shot up. The matter-of-fact tone of the child was shocking. He heard Gemma gasp and it was impossible to prevent his gaze going straight to her face.
She was looking straight back at him.
He could see a mirror of his own shock at Sophie’s statement. And see a flash of despair in Gemma’s eyes.
And he could see something else. A plea? No, it was more like an entire library of unspoken words. Instant understanding and… trust that what was known wouldn’t be used for harm.
And there was that glow again, dammit. Rays of intense light and warmth seeping out from the mental lid he’d slammed over the hole in his heart. Andy struggled to push the lid more firmly into place. To find something to screw it down with.
She’s moved on, a small voice reminded Andy. She’s got children. Another man’s children.
It was Gemma who dragged her gaze clear.
�She’s not going to die, Hazel.’ But was there an edge of desperation in Gemma’s voice?
�She’s here so that we can look after her,’ Andy added in his most reassuring adult-to-child tone. �And make sure that she doesn’t…’ The stare he was receiving from Jamie was disconcerting. �That nothing bad happens.’
The nurse was pulling Sophie’s arms from the sleeves of a soft, hand-knitted cardigan. Sophie was not co-operating. She was flexing her arms tightly and kicking out with her feet. Nothing floppy about her, Andy thought. It was a good sign that she was so upset. It wouldn’t be much fun for anybody if a lumbar puncture was needed to confirm the possibility of meningitis, though. He certainly wouldn’t be doing a procedure like that with an audience of young children, especially when one of them was calmly expecting a catastrophe.
Hazel was giving him a stare as direct as Jamie’s had been. She looked far older than her years and there was something familiar about that serious scrutiny. The penny finally dropped.
Hazel? Jamie? There was no way he could ignore the pull into the forbidden area now. Not that he was going to raise that lid, even a millimetre, but he could tread—carefully—around its perimeter. Andy directed a cautious glance at Gemma.
�These are your sister’s children? Laura and Evan’s kids?’
He didn’t need to see her nodding. Of course they were. Four years was a long time in a child’s life. The last time he’d seen Hazel she’d been a three-year-old. James had been a baby not much older than Sophie and… and Laura had been pregnant with twins, hadn’t she?
The nurse had succeeded in undressing Sophie now, removing sheepskin bootees and peeling away the soft stretchy suit to leave her in just a singlet and nappy. Sophie was still protesting the procedure and she was starting to sound exhausted on top of being so unhappy. Gemma stepped closer. She tried to reach out a hand to touch the baby but the child she was holding wrapped her arms more tightly around her neck.
�No-o-o… Don’t put me down, Aunty Gemma.’
Hazel was peering under the bed. �You come out of there, Ben. Right now.’
�And Sophie?’ Andy couldn’t stem a wash of relief so strong it made his chest feel too tight to take a new breath. �She’s Laura’s baby?’
�She was.’ Gemma managed to secure her burden with one arm and touch Sophie’s head with her other hand. She looked up at Andy. �She’s mine now. They all are.’
Andy said nothing. He knew his question was written all over his face.
�They were bringing Sophie home from the hospital,’ Gemma said quietly. �There was a head-on collision with a truck at the intersection where their lane joins the main road. A car came out of the lane without giving way and Evan swerved and that put them over the centre line. They… they both died at the scene.’ She pressed her lips together hard and squeezed her eyes shut for a heartbeat.
�Oh, my God,’ Andy breathed. Laura had been his sister-in-law. Bright and bubbly and so full of life. Gemma had been more than a big sister to her. She had been her mother as well. The news must have been unbelievably devastating. �Gemma… I’m so sorry.’
Gemma opened her eyes again, avoiding his gaze. Because accepting sympathy might undo her in front of the children? Her voice was stronger. Artificially bright. �Luckily the car seat saved Sophie from any injury.’
�And you were here in Manchester?’ Andy still couldn’t get his head around it. How long had she been here and why hadn’t he known anything about it? It felt… wrong.
�No. I was in Sydney. Australia.’
Of course she had been. In the place she’d taken off to four years ago. The point on the globe where she could be as far as possible away from him. Andy could feel his own lips tightening. Could feel himself stepping back from that dangerous, personal ground.
�But you came back. To look after the kids.’
�Of course.’
Two tiny words that said so much. Andy knew exactly why Gemma had come back. But the simple statement prised open a completely separate can of worms at the same time. She could abandon her career and traverse the globe to care for children for her sister’s sake?
She hadn’t been able to do even half of that for him, had she?
There was anger trapped amongst the pain and grief in that no-go area. Plenty of it. Especially now that he had successfully extinguished that glow. He turned back to his patient.
�Let’s get her singlet off as well. I want to check for any sign of a rash.’
Gemma wasn’t sure who she felt the most sorry for.
Sophie? A tiny baby who was not only feeling sick but had to be frightened by the bright lights and strange environment and unfamiliar people pulling her clothes off and poking at her.
Hazel? A child who was disturbingly solemn these days. It was scary the way she seemed to be braced for fate to wipe another member of her family from the face of the earth.
The twins, who were so tired they didn’t know what to do with themselves?
Herself?
Oh, yes… it would be all too easy to make it about herself at this particular moment.
Not because she was half out of her mind with worry. Or that her arms were beginning to ache unbearably from holding the heavy weight of three-year-old Chloe who was slumped and almost asleep, with her head buried against Gemma’s shoulder, but still making sad, whimpering sounds.
No. The real pain was coming from watching Andy. Seeing the changes that four years had etched into his face. The fine lines that had deepened around his eyes. The flecks of silver amongst the warm brown hair at his temples. The five-o’clock shadow that looked… coarser than she remembered.
Or maybe it wasn’t the changes that were making her feel like this. Maybe it was the things that hadn’t changed that were squeezing her heart until it ached harder than her arms.
That crease of genuine concern between his eyebrows. The confident but gentle movements of his hands as they touched the baby, seeking answers to so many questions. The way she could almost see his mind working with that absolute thoroughness and speed and intelligence she knew he possessed.
�She’s got a bit of a rash on her trunk but that could be a heat rash from running a fever. This could be petechiae around her eyes, though.’ Andy was bent over the baby, cupping her head reassuringly with one hand, using a single finger of his other hand to press an area close to her eyes, checking to see if the tiny spots would vanish with pressure. He glanced up at Gemma. �Has she been vomiting at all?’
�Just the once. After a feed. She refused her bottle after that.’
Andy’s nod was thoughtful. �Could have been enough to push her venous pressure up and cause these.’ But he was frowning. �We’ll have to keep an eye on them.’
He took his stethoscope out to listen to the tiny chest but paused for a moment when Sophie stretched out her hand. He gave her a finger to clutch. Gemma watched those tiny starfish fingers curl around Andy’s finger and she could actually feel how warm and strong it must seem. Something curled inside her at the same time. The memory of what it was like to touch Andy? To feel his strength and his warmth and the steady, comforting beat of his heart?
It was so, so easy to remember how much she had loved this man.
How much she still loved him.
That’s why you set him free, her mind whispered. You have no claim on him any more. He wouldn’t want you to have one.
His voice was soft enough to bring a lump to her throat.
�It’s all right, chicken,’ he told Sophie. �You’ll get a proper cuddle soon, I promise.’
He might well give her that cuddle himself, Gemma thought, and the fresh shaft of misery told her exactly who it was that she felt most sorry for here.
Andy.
No wonder she had felt that edge of anger when she’d told him she’d come rushing back from Australia to step into the terrible gap left by her sister’s death.
Andy had been the one who’d wanted a big family. For Gemma it had come well down the list of any priorities. A list that had always been headed by her determination to achieve a stellar career.
The irony of what she was throwing in his face tonight was undeserved. Cruel, even.
Andy was the one with the stellar career now. The grapevine that existed in the medical world easily extended as far as Australia and she’d heard about his growing reputation as a leader in his field.
And her career?
Snuffed out. For the last six months and for as far as she could see into the future, she would be a stay-at-home mum.
To a ridiculous number of children. The big family Andy had always wanted and she had refused to consider. In those days, she hadn’t even wanted one child, had she?
Sophie’s exhausted cries had settled into the occasional miserable hiccup as Andy completed his initial examination, which included peering into her ears with an otoscope.
�I don’t think it’s meningitis,’ he told Gemma finally.
�Oh… thank God for that.’ The tight knot in Gemma’s stomach eased just a little, knowing that Sophie might not have to go through an invasive procedure like a lumbar puncture.
Andy could see the relief in Gemma’s eyes but he couldn’t smile at her. He knew she wasn’t going to be happy with what he was about to say.
�I’m going to take some bloods.’
Sure enough, the fear was there again. Enough to show Andy that Gemma was totally committed to this family of orphans. Their welfare was her welfare.
�Her right eardrum is pretty inflamed,’ he continued, �and otitis media could well be enough to explain her symptoms but I’m concerned about that rash. We’ve had a local outbreak of measles recently and one or two of those children have had some unpleasant complications.’
Gemma was listening carefully. So was Hazel.
�Kirsty’s got measles,’ she said.
�Who’s Kirsty?’ Andy’s voice was deceptively calm. �A friend of yours?’
Hazel nodded. �She comes to play at my house sometimes.’
Andy’s glance held Gemma. �Have the other children been vaccinated?’
�I… don’t know, sorry.’
�We can find out. But not tonight, obviously.’ Andy straightened. He could see the nurse preparing a tray for taking blood samples from Sophie but it wasn’t something he wanted the other children to watch. He’d ask Gemma to take them all into the relatives’ room for a few minutes.
She could take them all home. Even Sophie. He could issue instructions to keep them quarantined at home until the results came in and that way he’d be doing his duty in not risking the spread of a potentially dangerous illness. Gemma was more than capable of watching for any signs of deterioration in the baby’s condition but… if he sent them home, would he see any of them again?
Did he want to?
Andy didn’t know the answer to that so he wasn’t willing to take the risk of losing what little control he had over the situation. And even the possibility of a potentially serious illness like measles made it perfectly justifiable to keep Sophie here until they were confident of the diagnosis.
To keep them all here, for that matter.
Quarantined, in fact.
�I’ll be back in a minute,’ he excused himself. �I’ve got a phone call I need to make.’
Thirty minutes later, Gemma found herself in a single room at the end of the paediatric ward. Already containing two single beds and armchairs suitable for parents to crash in, the staff had squeezed in two extra cots and a bassinette.
�Just for a while,’ Andy told her. �Until we get the results back on those blood tests and we can rule out measles.’
Sophie was sound asleep in the bassinette with a dose of paracetamol and antibiotics on board. The twins were eyeing the cots dubiously. Jamie and Hazel were eyeing the hospital-issue pyjamas a nurse had provided.
�I want to go home,’ Hazel whispered sadly.
�I know, hon, but we can’t. Not yet.’
�But it’s Christmas Eve.’
Gemma couldn’t say anything. The true irony of this situation was pressing down on her. An unbearable weight that made it impossible to look directly at Andy.
She heard him clear his throat. An uncomfortable sound.
�Will you be all right getting the kids settled? I… have a patient in the PICU I really need to follow up on.’
�Of course. Thanks for all your help.’
�I’ll come back later.’
Gemma said nothing. She couldn’t because the lump in her throat was too huge.
It was Christmas Eve and Andy was going to the paediatric intensive care unit.
The place it had all begun, ten years ago.
CHAPTER THREE
Christmas: ten years ago
�IT’S a big ask, Gemma. I know that.’
The PICU consultant was dressed in a dinner suit, complete with a black velvet bow-tie. He was running late for a Christmas Eve function. Gemma already felt guilty for calling him in but she’d had no choice, had she? Her senior registrar and the consultant on duty were caught up dealing with a six-month-old baby in heart failure and a new admission with a severe asthma attack.
The deterioration in five-year-old Jessica’s condition had been inevitable but the decision to withdraw treatment and end the child’s suffering had certainly not been one a junior doctor could make.
�You don’t have to do it immediately,’ her consultant continued. �Any time tonight is all right. Wait until you’ve got the support you need. I’m sorry… but I really can’t stay. This function is a huge deal for my daughter. She’s leading in the carol choir doing a solo of “Once in Royal David’s City” and if I don’t make it my name will be mud and tomorrow’s…’
�Christmas.’ Gemma nodded. She managed a smile. �Family time that shouldn’t be spoiled if it can be helped.’
�You’ve got it.’ The older man sighed. �If there was any chance of improving the outcome by heroic measures right now I’d stay, of course. But we’d only be prolonging the inevitable.’
�I know.’
They’d all known that almost as soon as Jessica had been admitted. The battle against cancer had been going on for half the little girl’s life and she’d seemed to be in remission but any infection in someone with a compromised immune system was potentially catastrophic.
Over the last few days they had been fighting multiorgan failure and the decision that had been made over the last hour had been much bigger than whether or not to begin dialysis to cope with her kidneys shutting down.
Gemma had to swallow the lump in her throat. �I just don’t understand why her mother won’t come back in.’
�She’s a foster-mother, Gemma,’ he reminded her. �She loves Jessica dearly but she’s got six other children at home and… it’s Christmas Eve. She was in here for most of the day and she’s said her goodbyes. It’s not as if Jessica’s going to wake up. You’ll take her off the life support and she’ll just stop breathing. It probably won’t take very long.’ The consultant glanced at his watch as he reached for a pen. �I’ll write it up. As I said, I know it’s a big ask. No one will blame you if you’re not up for it but I know how much time you’ve spent with her since her admission and I thought…’
Gemma took a shaky inward breath. Yes, she’d spent a lot of time with Jessica. Too much, probably, especially before she’d been sedated and put on life support. Certainly enough time to have fallen in love with the child and, if the closest thing to a mother she had couldn’t be here at the end then someone who loved her was surely next best.
�I can do it,’ she whispered. �But… not just yet.’
�Take all the time you need.’ The consultant signed his name on the order and turned to leave. He paused to offer Gemma a sympathetic smile. �You’re one of the best junior doctors I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,’ he said, �but this isn’t a time for being brave and trying to cope on your own. Every person who works in here will understand how tough this is. Take your pick but find someone to lean on, OK?’
Gemma couldn’t speak. She could only nod.
It was the way she was standing that caught his attention.
She looked as though she was gathering resolution to dive into a pool of icy water. Or knock on a door when she knew that somebody she really didn’t want to see was going to answer the summons. What was going on in that closed room of the PICU? Andrew Baxter had to focus to tune back into what his registrar was saying.
�So we’ll keep up the inotropic support overnight.
Keep an eye on all the parameters, especially urine output. If it hasn’t picked up by morning we’ll be looking at some more invasive treatment for the heart failure.’ The registrar yawned. �Call me if anything changes but, in the meantime, I’m going to get my head down for a bit.’ His smile was cheerful. �You get to stay up and mind the shop. One of the perks of being the new kid on the block.’
�I don’t mind.’ Andy returned the smile, aware of the woman still standing as still as a statue outside that room. He hesitated only briefly after his companion left.
�Hey.’ His greeting was quiet. �Do you… um… need any help?’
She looked up at him and Andy was struck by two things. The first, and most obvious, was the level of distress in her eyes. The second was the eyes themselves. He’d never seen anything like them. Flecks of gold in the rich hazel depths and an extraordinary rim of the same gold around the edges of the irises. He couldn’t help holding the eye contact for longer than he should with someone he’d never met but she didn’t seem to mind. One side of her mouth curved upwards in a wry smile.
�Got a bit of courage to spare?’
Andy could feel himself standing a little bit taller. Feeling more confident than he knew he had a right to. �You bet,’ he said. �How much would you like?’
�Buckets,’ she said, a tiny wobble in her voice. �Have you ever had to turn off someone’s life support?’
Andy blew out a slow breath. �Hardly. I’m a baby doctor. I started in the August intake and I’ve only just begun my second rotation.’
�Me, too.’
�And your team has left you to deal with this on your own?’ Andy was horrified.
She shook her head. �I get to choose a support person. My registrar is busy with the other consultant on the asthma case that came in a little while ago and the other registrar on duty is in with a baby. I think it’s a cardiac case.’
Andy nodded. �It is. I’m on a cardiology run. Six-month-old that’s come in with heart failure. I’ll probably be here all night, monitoring him. At the moment they’re trying to decide whether to take him up to the cath lab for a procedure. I got sent out to check availability.’
�Sounds full on.’
�It won’t be. If we’re not going to the cath lab immediately I’ll be floating around here pretty much for hours.’ Andy tried to sound casual but her words were echoing in his head. She was allowed to choose a support person. The desire to be that person came from nowhere but it was disturbingly strong. It was emotional support she needed, not medical expertise, and surely he would understand how she would be feeling better than anyone else around here. They were both baby doctors and he knew how nervous he’d be in her position. How hard something like this would be.
Andy gave her an encouraging smile. �I could be your support person.’
Gemma could feel her eyes widening.
She didn’t even know this guy’s name and he was being so… nice.
Genuine, too. He had dark brown eyes that radiated warmth. And understanding. Well, that made sense. He was at the same stage of his career as she was with hers and he’d never been in this position. Maybe, like her, he still hadn’t even seen someone actually die. Gemma could be quite sure that anyone else here in the PICU had seen it before. It didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be able to support her but they might have forgotten just how scary it was that first time. Not knowing how it might hit you. How unprofessional you might end up looking…
Gemma didn’t want to look unprofessional. Not in front of people who were more senior to herself and might judge her for it.
Kind eyes was smiling at her. �Sorry—I haven’t even introduced myself. Andrew Baxter. Andy…’ He held out his hand.
Gemma automatically took the hand. It was warm and big and gave hers a friendly squeeze rather than a formal shake. He let go almost immediately but she could still feel the warmth. And the strength.
�I’m Gemma,’ she told him.
�Hello, Gemma.’ Andy’s smile faded and he looked suddenly sombre. �Would you like me to check with my consultant about whether it’s OK for me to hang out with you for a while?’
Gemma found herself nodding. �I’ll ask whether someone more senior has to be there. But there’s no rush,’ she added hurriedly. �I wanted to just sit with Jessie for a bit first.’
He held her gaze for a moment, a question in his eyes. And then he nodded as though he approved of the plan.
�I’ll come and find you,’ he promised.
It was remarkably private in one of these areas of the PICU when the curtains were drawn over the big windows and the door was closed.
Remarkably quiet, too, with just the gentle hiss of the ventilator and muted beeping from the bank of monitoring equipment.
The nurse had given Gemma a concerned look before she’d left her alone in there with Jessica.
�Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?’
Gemma shook her head and offered a faint smile. �Thanks, but I need to do this in my own time,’ she said. �And… I think one of the other house officers is going to come and keep me company for a bit.’
The door opened quietly a few minutes later and then closed again. Andy moved with unusual grace for a big man as he positioned a chair and then sat down so that he was looking across the bed at Gemma.
Except he wasn’t looking at Gemma. His gaze was fixed on Jessica’s pale little face. He reached out and made her hand disappear beneath his.
�Hello, there, Jessie,’ he whispered. �I’m Andy. I’m Gemma’s friend.’
Gemma liked that. She certainly needed a friend right now.
For several minutes they simply sat there in silence.
�Do you think she’s aware of anything?’ Gemma asked softly.
�I had a look at her chart on the way in,’ Andy responded. �She’s well sedated so I’m sure she’s not in any pain.’
�But nobody really knows, do they? Whether there’s an awareness of… something.’
�Something like whether there’s somebody there that cares about you?’
�Mmm.’ Gemma took hold of Jessie’s other hand as she looked up. Away from the harsh strip lighting of the main area of the PICU, Andy’s face looked softer. His dark hair was just as tousled, the strong planes of his cheeks and jaw a little less craggy and his eyes were even warmer.
But what was really appealing was that he seemed to get what she was doing in here. Why it was important. His posture was also relaxed enough to suggest he wasn’t going to put any pressure on her to hurry what had to be done.
�I saw she had a guardian listed as next of kin rather than family but…’ Andy shook his head. �I still don’t understand why it’s just us in here.’
�She’s fostered,’ Gemma told him. �She was in foster-care even before she was diagnosed with a brain tumour over two years ago and she’s had major medical issues ever since. There are very few foster-parents out there who would be prepared to cope with that.’ She knew she was sounding a bit defensive but she knew how hard it could be.
�And the woman who’s been doing it has a bunch of other kids who need her tonight. She’s been in here half the day and… she couldn’t face this.’
�But you can.’ The statement was quiet and had a strong undercurrent of admiration.
Gemma’s breath came out in a short huff. �I don’t know about that. It’s…’ For some strange reason she found herself on the verge of dumping her whole life history onto someone who was a stranger to her, which was pretty weird when she was such a fiercely private person. �It’s complicated.’
Andy said nothing for another minute or so. Then he cleared his throat. �So… where did you do your training?’
�Birmingham.’ Gemma felt herself frowning. What on earth did this have to do with anything? Then she got it. Andy wanted to give her some time to get used to him. To trust him? Given that she’d learned not to trust people very early in life it was a strategy she could appreciate. Oddly, it felt redundant. How could she not instinctively trust someone who had such kind eyes?
Her abrupt response was still hanging in the air. Gemma cleared her throat. �How �bout you? Where did you train?’
�Cambridge.’
�Nice.’
Andy nodded. �What made you choose Birmingham?’
�I lived there. With my younger sister.’ Gemma paused for a heartbeat. Reminded herself that Andy was trying to build trust here and it couldn’t hurt to help. �She was still at school,’ she added, �and I didn’t want to move her.’
Andy’s eyebrows rose. �There was just the two of you?’
It was Gemma’s turn to nod. And then she took a deep breath. Maybe she needed to accelerate this �getting to know you’ phase because she really did need a friend here. Someone she could trust. Someone who knew they could trust her. Or maybe it had already been accelerated because of an instant connection that somehow disengaged all her normal protective mechanisms.
�We were foster-kids,’ she told him quietly. �I got guardianship of Laura as soon as I turned eighteen. She was thirteen then.’
She could feel the way his gaze was fixed on her even though she was keeping her head bowed, watching as she rubbed the back of Jessie’s hand with her thumb.
�Wow… That’s not something siblings often do for each other. Laura’s very lucky to have you for a sister.’
�No. I’m the lucky one. Laura’s an amazing person. One of those naturally happy people, you know? She can make everyone around her feel better just by being there.’
�You’re both lucky, then,’ Andy said. �Me, I’m an only child. I dreamt of having a sibling. Lots of them, in fact. I couldn’t think of anything better than having a really big family but it never happened.’ He shrugged, as though excusing Gemma from feeling sorry for him. �Guess it’ll be up to me to change the next Baxter generation.’
�You want lots of kids?’
�At least half a dozen.’ Andy grinned. �What about you?’
Gemma shook her head sharply.
�You don’t want kids?’
�Sure. One or two. But that’s so far into the future it doesn’t register yet.’ She could feel her spine straighten a little. �I haven’t worked as hard as I have not to make sure I get my career exactly where I want it before I take time off to have a baby.’
�Going to be rich and famous, huh?’
�That’s the plan.’ Oh, help… that had sounded shallow hadn’t it? �Secure, anyway,’ Gemma added. �And… respected, I guess.’
Andy nodded as though he understood where she was coming from. �How old were you when you went into foster-care?’
�I was eight. Laura was only three. Luckily we got sent places together. Probably because I kicked up such a fuss if they made noises about separating us and also because I was prepared to take care of Laura myself.’ She looked up then and offered a smile. �I was quite likely to bite anybody that tried to take over.’
Andy grinned. �I can believe that.’ Then his face sobered again. He looked at Jessie and then back at Gemma. He didn’t say anything but she knew he was joining the dots. She didn’t need to spell out the complexities of why she felt a bond with this child and why it was important for her to be here with her at the end of her short life.
�You’re quite something, aren’t you?’ he said finally.
A warm glow unfurled somewhere deep inside Gemma but outwardly all she did was shrug. �I wouldn’t say that.’
�I would. You completed your medical degree. It was hard enough for me and I had family support and no responsibilities. I’ve still got a pretty impressive student debt.’
�Tell me about it.’ But Gemma didn’t want to go there. She’d shared more than enough of her difficult background. Any more and they’d need to bring in the violins and that was definitely not an atmosphere that was going to help get her into the right space for what had to come. The task she still wasn’t quite ready for. Time to change the subject and get to know her new friend a little better. �What made you choose to go into medicine?’
�I think I always wanted to be a doctor. My dad’s a GP in Norwich.’
�Family tradition?’
Andy grinned. �Familiar, anyway. I just grew up knowing that the only thing I wanted to be was a doctor. Maybe I was too lazy to think of anything else I wanted to be.’ His gaze was interested. �How �bout you?’
�Laura had to have her appendix out when she was seven and the surgeon was the loveliest woman, who arranged permission for me to stay in the hospital with her for a couple of days. I fell in love with both the surgeon and the hospital. Plus, I had to choose a career that would enable me to always be able to take care of my sister.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/alison-roberts/maybe-this-christmas/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Если текст книги отсутствует, перейдите по ссылке
Возможные причины отсутствия книги:
1. Книга снята с продаж по просьбе правообладателя
2. Книга ещё не поступила в продажу и пока недоступна для чтения