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200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon
Annie Claydon


When opposites attract…!Edward North—child prodigy turned genius microsurgeon—has no idea how attractive women find him! Hours spent researching and saving lives leaves little time for socialising. Until an adorable little boy wanders into his office, followed by his frantic mum, nurse Charlotte King, and they turn his world upside-down!Charlotte’s never allowed herself to act on her feelings for devastatingly gorgeous Edward—her life is complicated enough! But when everything begins to fall apart this enigmatic surgeon is the only man she can turn to…200 HARLEY STREETGlamour, intensity, desire—the lives and loves of London’s hottest team of surgeons!












200 Harley Street:

The Enigmatic

Surgeon

Annie Claydon















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader

I’ve always loved reading continuity stories, so it was a thrill to be asked to write one, and an honour to be in the company of the other wonderful authors who have contributed to this series.

From the moment he came alive on the page for me I knew that Edward was going to be a challenge. He’s one of those people who’ll shine whatever he turns his hand to. He might not be much of a team player, but give him a problem and he’ll come up with a brilliant and imaginative solution. He has his work, his books and his music, and seems to want nothing and no one else. What can you give a man like that?

Well, you can give him Charlotte. Charlotte might not always understand the complexities of Edward’s thought processes, but she understands people. And as she gets to know Edward it becomes obvious that there’s something missing in his well-ordered life. But she and her son have been hurt once already, and the one thing that Edward needs is the thing that Charlotte has promised herself she’ll never give.

I hope that you enjoy Edward and Charlotte’s story. I’m always delighted to hear from readers, and you can contact me via my website at www.annieclaydon.com (http://www.annieclaydon.com)

Annie x


Dedication (#uef1053d8-9af2-5a9a-adbf-83a39f1e8577)

To the ladies who lunch: Yve, Nicky and Vicki.




Table of Contents


Cover (#u77859fe8-6321-5ef0-8fa5-c7cbecb7f275)

Title Page (#uab546fb6-7a8f-5cd8-8aac-dfcf0631c9d4)

Dear Reader (#u896eddfa-4284-5651-8925-039210ca480a)

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#uef1053d8-9af2-5a9a-adbf-83a39f1e8577)


‘SO WHICH IS it, then?’

‘Eh?’ Charlotte King was busy trying not to notice that Edward North was currently going through his pockets to find the key to his office, and she had lost the thread of the conversation that was going on around the nurses’ station.

‘Which do you think? Secret love-life, or no love-life?’ Paula craned across the desk to get a better view. ‘Wonder if he needs a hand with that?’

Charlotte swallowed a laugh. ‘What? You know where he’s left his keys?’

‘No. But I’m really good at finding things.’ Paula’s smile left no doubt that she was contemplating a thorough investigation and possibly a body search.

‘Too late. He’s got them.’ Allie grinned at Paula. ‘And I reckon he’s got a secret mistress somewhere.’

‘When does he get to see her? In between here and the hospital, I’d be surprised if he has much time for anything else.’

‘He has time to swim.’ Allie’s blue eyes flashed mischievously.

‘Yeah?’ Paula’s attention was on Allie now.

‘Mmm-hmm. I left my trainers downstairs in the gym the other day and went to fetch them after work. He was in the pool, doing laps.’

‘Hmm. Perhaps I’ll go buy myself a swimming costume. Common interests can be very important in a relationship.’

‘So you’ve thought this through, then?’ Charlotte wished that Paula and Allie would keep their voices down. Not that the nurses were in any danger of being heard. It was difficult enough to get Edward’s attention even when he was supposed to be listening to you. It just seemed somehow wrong to be talking like this.

‘Who hasn’t? I reckon he just needs a good woman. And I’ll apply for the position if no one else is interested.’

Allie laughed. ‘Steady, Paula. Remember there’s a queue and I’m in it. Charlotte, too, eh?’

Charlotte considered the prospect. She couldn’t get away with a lie that big. ‘Yeah, okay. Just to keep you two company, though. I don’t have time for dating.’

Or the money. Or the inclination, most of the time. Apart from when Edward … Her gaze wandered over to the glazed wall of his office. He was behind his desk now, deep in thought, a stack of papers and books in front of him.

‘Yeah, right.’ Paula was laughing now. ‘Guess we could share him around.’

Oh, no. Edward wasn’t for sharing. He was for being loved, nurtured by one woman, not passed around like a beautifully wrapped, enormously sexy parcel. He looked up, as if somehow the thought had penetrated the walls of his office, his eyes suddenly focussing in Charlotte’s direction.

She could feel the flush spreading up from the back of her neck to her cheeks. Edward might be for one woman, but that woman definitely wasn’t her.

Charlotte turned, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just caught her staring at him. ‘I’ll leave you to do that. I’ve got to do my last ward round and my friend is bringing Isaac here soon.’

‘Really?’ Paula always made a particular fuss of Isaac. ‘What do we owe that pleasure to?’

‘There’s no school today and my friend’s been looking after him. Lucy’s got a date tonight so she’s dropping him off here before she goes on to hit the town. If you see them, will you get them to wait here?’

Paula nodded. ‘Sure thing. Take your time.’

Edward North had just got to the complex part. Not that tomorrow’s microsurgery wasn’t all complex, but this particular section was intricate in the extreme. Running through it in his head was his preferred method of preparation, and the swimming pool in the basement of the Hunter Clinic his preferred place. Working his body seemed to free his mind, but he couldn’t be assured of solitude until the clinic was closed for the day, so his office was going to have to do.

‘No. Not like that …’ He shook his head, muttering in disgust at his own ineptitude. He’d have to start over now. Or at least from the last set of microscopic sutures. Edward took a breath, cleared his mind, and …

The image that floated into his mind was nothing like the one he was concentrating on building. Pale chestnut hair, bound in a tight knot at the back of her head. Light brown eyes. He couldn’t see the flecks of gold from this distance, but he knew that they were there. Somehow Charlotte’s eyes had impressed themselves on his consciousness when he had difficulty in recalling the names, let alone the eye colour, of most of the rest of the nursing staff.

She’d looked away, then. Blushing.

The exact mechanics of that particular form of vasodilation was child’s play alongside the complexities of its causes. Most things were. Edward closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and went back to the matter in hand.

* * *

Lucy was already standing at the nurses’ station when Charlotte returned from her ward round.

‘Hey, Lucy, you look nice. I won’t be a minute. I’ve just got to pick up my coat.’ Charlotte looked around. Just one glimpse of her son after a long day was always enough to lift her spirits.

‘Sure. Why don’t you leave Isaac here with me?’

‘Isn’t he with you?’

‘No. He ran ahead up the stairs. I called after him to wait for you here …’

For one split second the two women stared at each other. Charlotte almost choked as something squeezed tight around her heart, and then instinct and the sure knowledge that she needed to move now took over.

‘Go downstairs, Lucy. Make sure he’s not slipped out of the building. I’ll look for him here.’

She glanced over in the direction of Edward’s office. The view inside was partially obscured by a long, low cabinet, running the length of the glass wall and designed to keep the mess of books and other artefacts under some semblance of control, but she could see that he was no longer sitting at his desk. Not that he’d probably notice if a whole horde of five-year-olds started roaming the corridors, but he’d been the only one there and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Isaac shouldn’t have gone into any of the treatment rooms. He knew not to do that. All the same she looked, trying not to panic, trying not to cry. Allie hadn’t seen him and neither had Paula. She opened every cupboard, every locked door, just in case. And each time her baby wasn’t there the agitation in the pit of her stomach grew.

‘The receptionist says that he can’t have got out of the building. He would have had to have either opened one of the back doors, and they’re all alarmed, or gone straight past her.’ Lucy arrived back upstairs, red and breathless.

That was something, at least. Mind you, there was plenty of trouble right here that a five-year-old could get into. The swimming pool … Charlotte remembered the swimming pool in the basement and felt suddenly sick.

‘I’ll call Security …’ She grabbed for the phone and then dropped it. Either she was hearing things, or …

Isaac laughed again. That was definitely not a hallucination.

Lucy had heard it, too. ‘Where is he?’ Lucy looked around wildly.

Another laugh. This time deep, round and rich. The kind of laugh that Edward might have, only Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever heard him laugh. Wordlessly she swung round and marched towards the door of Edward’s office, opening it without bothering to knock.

For a moment, in the relief of seeing that Isaac was safe, she didn’t register the scene in front of her. Somehow she noticed that Isaac’s favourite toy, the blue bunny that he carried with him everywhere, was sitting in Edward’s black leather chair, and that Edward was on the floor.

‘Isaac!’ Charlotte gulped out his name. ‘What are you doing?’

Her son looked up at her. Innocent blue eyes and dark blond hair framed the sweet smile which never failed to dissolve her anger and dispel her fears.

‘Hi, Mum. I’m making water.’ He picked up a small red ball from the box in front of him. ‘Look, you take one red one. That’s …’

‘Um … oxygen.’ Edward got to his feet quickly, facing Charlotte with a slightly abashed air. ‘So you’re Isaac’s mother?’

‘Yes.’ She ducked around Edward. She could deal with him later. ‘Isaac, come here, please.’

‘But, Mum, I haven’t shown you. Look …’

‘We mustn’t bother Mr North any more, sweetie. Where did you get that from?’ She looked at the molecule model kit in front of him on the floor. It looked like a great toy and she wished she could afford something like it for Isaac, even if he was a bit young for it at the moment.

‘It’s Edward’s.’ Isaac shot a pleading look up at his new friend, who ignored him completely and sat down in his chair, remembering just in time to pull the blue bunny out from under him before it got squashed. He proffered it to Isaac and when he didn’t show any inclination to take it propped it up against the phone.

It had been a long week, and Charlotte had just about had enough. You could only take so many small crises, each one popping up hard on the heels of the last, before life became one big crisis.

‘Then put everything back in the box and say thank you to Edward. We’ve got to get home.’ Hopefully she could get out of here before the temptation to tear Edward off a strip became too great. Didn’t he realise that someone would be looking for the stray five-year-old who had wandered into his office?

Isaac shot her a look which left her in no doubt that he wasn’t in agreement with that decision, but complied anyway. One down, one to go. Charlotte turned to Edward, who was arranging the blue bunny into a crossed-legs, hands-behind-the-head posture which gave the impression that he was leaning back against the phone, sunbathing.

‘I’m sorry he … interrupted you. We’ll be going home …’

The sheer force of his gaze stopped her. Thoughtful. Intensely blue. And at this moment tainted with an uncertainty that was unlike Edward.

‘Were you looking for him?’

‘Yes. But it’s all right, he’s here …’ Charlotte just wanted to hug Isaac. As soon as she got out of Edward’s office that was the first thing she planned to do.

‘I should have let you know he was here.’

He’d recovered himself now. Whatever emotion he did or didn’t feel was locked away somewhere, no one’s business but his own.

‘That’s okay. I’ve found him now …’ She was shaking. So tired that she was almost in tears. All she wanted to do was get home. ‘Isaac, will you give Edward the box back, please?’

Isaac seemed to have got over his disappointment and carefully collected up the box and laid it on Edward’s desk. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Edward gave Isaac a guarded half-smile and a little formal nod and her son copied the expression in return. ‘Don’t forget … What’s his name?’

‘Stinky.’

Edward raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, don’t forget Stinky, then.’

He looked up at Charlotte and she tried for a smile.

‘Will you stay a moment, please, Charlotte?’

This was the last thing she needed right now. She knew that Isaac shouldn’t have been running around the clinic on his own. Edward didn’t need to tell her that, and it went without saying that it wouldn’t happen again. ‘Isaac, will you go and sit with Lucy, please? Just for a minute.’ She pointed to the patients’ seating area outside.

‘Here.’ Edward leaned forward, towards the boy, proffering a handful of change. ‘Get something for yourself and Lucy from the vending machine. D’you think Stinky wants anything?’

‘No, he doesn’t. He’s not a real rabbit, you know.’

‘Of course not. Well, something for you and Lucy then …’

Charlotte was about to stop Isaac from taking the money, but Edward had already put a selection of coins into his hand and Isaac was halfway towards the door. At least he remembered to thank Edward. She straightened herself and prepared for the dressing down that was coming.

‘I’m sorry, Charlotte.’

‘Eh …?’

‘You must have been worried when you couldn’t find Isaac.’

Worried? Frantic, more like. ‘I … I’m sorry he bothered you.’

‘He was no trouble. He seems to like molecules …’ Edward almost smiled and then thought better of it. Too bad. In that brief moment his eyes had seemed bluer, and his dark good looks less brooding.

‘He’s only five. He likes putting things together and taking them apart again …’ The rush of relief at finding Isaac had left her feeling like a limp dishcloth. And now this. Instinctively Charlotte put one hand to her brow, as if to shade herself from the intensity of those blue eyes which seemed to hold so much that was unsaid.

‘Hey. What’s this?’

He was on his feet, his hands on her shoulders. Edward had the worst timing of any man she’d ever known, bar none. Of all the times to choose to be kind, this was the one most likely to reduce her to tears.

‘Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m okay.’ She tried to avoid his gaze.

‘Clearly you’re not.’

There was a note of tenderness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. Something warm about the arm which wound around her shoulder. Something about his scent that made her instinctively sink into him, even though she knew that this was probably one of the worst ideas she’d ever had in her life.

Under the crisp white shirt there was some serious musculature. Strong arms, and a flat, hard stomach. For the second time in the last few minutes the swimming pool flashed into Charlotte’s head, but this time the image was considerably more inviting.

‘I’m okay …’ Charlotte thought about pushing him away and then decided that putting her hands anywhere near him would be far too much of a temptation. ‘Really. I’m fine.’

He seemed to feel it, too. He stepped back quickly, almost as if she’d burnt him, and turned towards his desk. ‘If there’s anything that’s bothering you, you should let someone know.’ He thought for a moment, obviously considering himself an unlikely candidate for any kind of emotional disclosure. ‘Lizzie, perhaps … I’m sure she’d be able to do … whatever’s needed.’

Edward had switched back into professional mode and the relief was almost palpable. ‘No. There’s nothing. I just had a bit of a scare when I couldn’t find Isaac …’ She bit her words back. Nothing like blaming the very person who had just tried to help her.

‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

That was supposed to be her line. She smiled up at him, wishing that she could smooth some of the creases on his brow. ‘It’s okay. He’s safe, and that’s all that matters. I’m sorry he disturbed you. He knows he mustn’t wander around here.’

‘That’s all right. It was nice to talk to him.’ He gestured stiffly towards the molecule model kit. ‘His approach is refreshingly creative, compared with most.’

Was that a joke? It was difficult to tell with Edward, but the possibility intrigued Charlotte. She could see Lucy and Isaac out of the corner of her eye, settling themselves down on the sofa with their drinks. They’d be at least another five minutes, and hadn’t Paula always said that Charlotte only needed five minutes to get anyone to open up?

‘What’s it for? If you don’t mind my asking?’

‘You can use it for anything. I’m thinking of DNA sequencing.’ The way he brushed off the question almost made her believe that everyone had a model of a DNA sequence somewhere in their office.

‘Ah. Right. Anyone in particular?’

‘Mine, actually. Just a snippet of it, of course. But don’t you think there’s something rather interesting about actually being able to look at something that’s the very basis of your own make-up?’

‘I’d never really thought about it.’ Now he mentioned it, there was. There was an obscure symmetry about the concept that made her smile, even if she didn’t properly understand it.

‘You should. It would be interesting for Isaac …’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Perhaps when he’s a bit older.’

‘Yes, I think so. Is that all?’ She should go now. She’d managed to stem her tears for the moment, but who knew how long that particular dam was going to hold? Hopefully until after Isaac was safely tucked up in bed.

‘Are you going home? I’m going your way. I’ll give you a lift. The buses are horrible at this time of day—’ He broke off, as if he’d let something slip that he shouldn’t.

How did he know she took the bus home? And how did he know which way she went? Charlotte stared at him.

‘I’ve seen you waiting at the two-three-nine bus stop. And the two-three-nine goes almost directly along my route home. Of course you could be catching the number thirteen, but most people who do that walk down to the Oxford Circus stop, so they can get a seat—’ He broke off again, obviously wondering whether that was too much information.

‘Right. Next time I want to know which bus to take, I’ll know who to ask.’ She grinned at him. ‘But it’s okay, really. You must still have work to do and we’ll be going in a minute.’

He shrugged. ‘I was operating at six this morning, I should have been gone hours ago. And … You look tired.’

Perhaps Edward noticed more than everyone thought.

There was no perhaps about it. He clearly did. Somewhere inside a smile formed at the thought that some of those things were connected with her.

‘We … we can’t. Isaac needs a proper car seat …’ It was a pity. The buses were always packed on a Friday evening and she could have done with a ride home.

‘No problem. I have one fitted in my car.’

Something told Charlotte that Edward had worked all of this through before he’d even made the offer. The complex equation balanced two shopping bags, one child and an indeterminate number of full buses, crawling through the traffic, against one child seat, a comfortable car and a lift home. He probably already knew what she was about to say.

She smiled, wondering whether he’d factored that in or not. ‘Okay. If it’s no trouble. Thanks.’




CHAPTER TWO (#uef1053d8-9af2-5a9a-adbf-83a39f1e8577)


EDWARD GAVE NO explanation for the brand-new child’s car seat when he opened the back door of his sleek dark blue car and waved Isaac inside. Perhaps the girls at work were right. Perhaps he did have a woman somewhere. A woman with a child. So much for Paula’s assertions that it couldn’t hurt to try to breach Edward’s reserve.

All the same, there was nothing wrong with taking a lift from him, and Charlotte couldn’t deny that this was a great deal nicer than the bus. Not having to continually grab at her bags to get them out of the way of someone else’s feet. Isaac safely strapped in behind her, with Stinky on his lap. Leather seats. The quiet strains of music floating at her from four different directions. She began to relax.

‘It would be more convenient for you to drive to work.’

As they passed Regent’s Park Edward’s customary forthrightness broke the silence.

‘Yeah. More expensive, too.’ She grinned at him. ‘Congestion charge, parking costs.’

He nodded. ‘I thought you were going to say you liked the bus.’

‘It’s not so bad. You meet a lot of interesting people on buses.’

‘So it’s a social experiment, then?’

Maybe for Edward. It was a matter of necessity for Charlotte. ‘You could call it that. We like it on the top deck, don’t we, Isaac?’

‘Yeah. You can see into people’s windows,’ Isaac piped up from the back seat.

‘Can you?’ Edward paused for thought. ‘What do you see?’

‘Christmas trees.’

‘In July?’

‘No, at Christmas.’ Isaac’s voice took on the tone of patient explanation that he sometimes used with adults. ‘We counted how many Christmas trees we could see on the way home.’

‘So you’re a mathematician. Is that why you’re called Isaac? After Isaac Newton?’

Isaac seemed to have succeeded where the combined talents of the Hunter Clinic had failed. That was definitely a joke, even if Isaac didn’t appear to understand it.

‘Who?’

Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘He’s five, Edward.’

He nodded. ‘So you’re keeping Newton for later.’ He made it sound like leaving the best chocolate in the box until last. He raised his voice, speaking to Isaac again. ‘So how many Christmas trees did you count?’

‘A million.’

‘Really? You live on the moon?’ Edward’s lips twitched and Isaac cackled with laughter. Although neither seemed to be quite on the same intellectual wavelength, they clearly shared the same sense of humour.

‘Noooo. Kentish Town.’

‘That explains it, then. Are you sure you didn’t count any of them twice?’

Isaac shrugged. ‘Maybe. It might have been a hundred.’

It seemed so natural to laugh with them. The obvious thing to do. ‘It was three hundred and forty-nine, wasn’t it, Isaac?’

‘That’s right. Three hundred and forty-nine.’

Edward nodded. ‘Impressive. That’s a prime number, you know.’

‘What’s a prime number?’

Edward shot a helpless glance at Charlotte and she shrugged. All of a sudden this quiet, reserved man had become almost talkative, and against her better judgement she actually wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

‘It’s … um … it’s a very special number. There are lots of them. I dare say they’ll teach you about that at school.’

‘When?’

‘Er … Pretty soon, I imagine. Ask your teacher.’

‘Okay.’

Lucky escape. Charlotte mouthed the words at him and he raised one eyebrow, as if he’d been in complete control all along.

‘How many are there?’

She saw the line of Edward’s jaw stiffen as it became apparent that she had spoken too soon.

‘More than you can count. Even if you ride on the bus all day. The first prime number is two. Then five …’

By the time he’d worked his way up to twenty-nine and shown no signs of flagging Charlotte decided to step in. At this rate they could be driving to Birmingham and back before either Isaac went to sleep or Edward got to the point where he could no longer work out the next prime number in his head.

She turned in her seat to face Isaac. ‘Edward’s got to stop counting now, sweetie, because he’s driving and has to keep his eye on the road. I’ll explain all about prime numbers when we get home.’

‘Okay.’

It was nice having her in the car. She smelled good—like soap and roses. Rose soap, maybe. Edward ran through all the possibilities in his head and surprised himself with how delicious each of them was.

She didn’t just smell nice; she was nice. Whenever he saw her with the clinic’s clients she was always the same. Gentle, reassuring, and yet with a hint of fun about her. She made people smile. But Edward couldn’t help but think there was more. When he’d seen her at the bus stop the other day, huddled under her umbrella in the pouring rain, there had been a defeated slant to her shoulders that had made him want to stop, but his nerve had failed him. Getting involved with people wasn’t what Edward did.

‘You must like jazz?’ She was stretching her legs out in front of her. Smiling.

‘Very much,’ he said. ‘You?’

‘I don’t really know. I’ve not listened to much. I like this.’

‘Good.’ He could have left it at that. Would normally have left it at that. But against his better judgement he wanted to prolong the conversation. ‘Most people just automatically say they love jazz, irrespective of whether they’ve listened to any.’

She gave a little laughing nod, as if she knew just what he meant. ‘It’s one of those things that you’re meant to like, isn’t it? I mean if you admit to not knowing much about jazz, then it’s like owning up to being some kind of barbarian.’

‘I don’t think you’re a barbarian.’ He thought she was a damn sight more honest that most people.

He was rewarded with one of the smiles that she was so free with. This one seemed just for him. ‘That’s all right, then.’

Charlotte asked him to drop them in the High Street, but when Edward insisted on taking her all the way home she directed him to a quiet backstreet. Small houses—many of them shabby and unkempt. He parked outside a house with a neat front garden. The front door badly needed a paint job. Charlotte jumped out of the car, unbuckling Isaac’s seat belt while Edward took her shopping bags out of the boot.

‘Can I carry these in for you?’

‘No. No, that’s okay, thank you. Thanks for the lift.’ She picked the bags up with one hand and took Isaac’s hand with the other. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’

‘Bye, Edward. Thank you …’

She shot a glance of approbation in her son’s direction and then turned away. Suddenly it seemed that she couldn’t get rid of him fast enough and a vague feeling of disappointment nudged at him.

‘Bye, Isaac. Nice to meet you …’

The boy twisted his head around as his mother marched him away, and gave him a grin, but Charlotte seemed caught up with her shopping bags. There was nothing to keep him so Edward got back into his car. As he turned in the road he noticed in his rearview mirror that the front gate was sticking and that she was struggling with it. He almost stopped the car and got out again, but then she kicked it and it snapped open, and she walked up the front path without looking back.

Charlotte slammed the front door closed behind her and dropped her shopping, leaning back against the door. Home. Half of her wished she was still in Edward’s car and that they really had been driving to Birmingham and back. Newcastle, even. The other half was glad that he was gone before he’d had a chance to see the threadbare carpet in the hall and the second-hand furniture in her sitting room.

‘Is Edward your boss, Mum?’

‘He’s a surgeon. At the clinic.’

‘So he makes people well? Like you do?’

‘Yes, darling.’

Isaac nodded. ‘He’s nice’

Charlotte found herself smiling again. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ She picked up her shopping bags. ‘Now, let’s see what we’ve got for supper, shall we?’

It was only a short drive from Edward’s house back to Charlotte’s, but it was like travelling from one world to another. The trendy shops and cafés gave way to houses which seemed even more run-down than they had yesterday evening, and when he drove slowly along Charlotte’s road it didn’t seem any more salubrious than the last time he’d been here.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have come. At ten o’clock on a Saturday morning she could be out, or having a lie-in … anything. But he was here now, with Stinky sitting next to him on the front passenger seat. If she wasn’t there, then maybe Stinky would fit through the letterbox.

Cars lined the pavement, and he had to drive past her house to find a parking spot. As he did so he caught a glimpse of her on the doorstep, between the broad backs of two men who seemed to be crowding close in on her. What he could see of her stiff, upright frame, screamed that there was something wrong.

Edward accelerated into a free space. ‘Don’t move, Stinky. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He lunged out of the car, and down the road, to where her front gate stood open.

‘Charlotte!’ Now that he was closer he was sure that he was right. She was dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt, bare feet on the doorstep, but she stood as tall as she could, the door almost closed behind her, her face fierce and determined. ‘What’s going on?’

She stared at him as if he’d just landed from another planet. One of the men swung round to face Edward, his pudgy face harsh. ‘Nothing to concern you, sir. Just a bit of business with the lady.’

Her face had flushed bright red. Tears rimmed her eyes, before she quickly brushed them away. These guys were bad news. They stank of the kind of aggression which dressed itself up in cheap suits and a nasty attitude.

‘Then you have business with me.’ Edward pushed in between them and stood next to her on the step. He wanted to put his arm around her, ask her if she was all right, but this wasn’t the time. ‘Step back. Now.’

They stepped back. The anger that was raging in his chest must have been showing in his face, because the expression on the face of the larger of the two became slightly less belligerent. Edward pressed his advantage. ‘Now, what’s all this about?’

‘Are you this lady’s husband, sir?’

‘I’m her legal advisor.’ Suddenly Edward was mightily glad that he’d left Stinky in the car. This was rapidly beginning to look like a confrontation of some sort, and holding a battered blue rabbit in his hand wouldn’t have helped.

He felt Charlotte’s fingers on his arm. ‘No, Edward. Please.’ Her voice was almost a whisper.

If she wanted him to go, she had another think coming. Edward didn’t shift his gaze from the two men. ‘Who are you? Do you have some identification?’

One of the men reached slowly into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out a wallet. Opening it, he held it out for Edward to see.

Debt collectors. What had Charlotte got herself into? No time for that now. A child’s whimper sounded from the other side of the door and he felt Charlotte’s small, convulsive movement against his arm. ‘Go inside, please, Charlotte. Close the door.’

She looked up at him. Cheeks pink, her lovely eyes still brimming with tears. She hesitated, obviously torn between going to comfort her son and dealing with the men on her doorstep.

‘Go and make sure Isaac’s okay.’ He spoke gently to her and she nodded quickly, disappearing inside the house.

One down, two to go.

He turned to the two men. ‘I assume you’re not in possession of a court order with regards to this property?’

‘No, sir.’ Somehow the man made that sound like a threat.

‘In that case I’m asking you to leave now. I’ll speak to you when you’re standing on the pavement.’

The men exchanged a look. Obviously they considered that browbeating him was a different matter from a lone woman and a child, and Edward didn’t bother to conceal his disgust as they turned and took their time in walking down the path.

‘There is the matter of an unpaid debt, ma’am.’

Edward looked round and saw Charlotte back in the doorway, pulling a pair of sneakers on. She must have settled Isaac and come back out again.

‘You don’t speak to her. If you’ve something to say, then say it to me.’ Edward had just appointed himself, unasked, into the role of protector, but he didn’t care. No one else was around to do it.

‘I need to speak to the lady.’ The man’s voice suddenly became gentle. He’d seen a way in and was trying for it. Be nice to her, then divide and conquer.

Edward looked round at Charlotte. It was one thing to expect her to go along with his instructions at the clinic, but here … Here she had Isaac to think of, and she wasn’t going to give that responsibility away too easily.

‘You can speak to my …’ She walked down the path and stood next to him. ‘My legal advisor.’

The man pressed his lips together. ‘In that case …’ He turned to Edward. ‘We’re looking for this lady’s husband. We have reason to believe he’s here—’

‘He isn’t,’ Charlotte broke in vehemently. ‘I haven’t seen him for over a year.’

‘We’d like to check, madam.’ Deftly the man had turned back on Charlotte.

‘You have no right of entry to this property. The lady’s already told you that the person you’re looking for isn’t here, and that she doesn’t want you in her home.’ Edward folded his arms to indicate that this was now an end to the matter.

‘Fair enough. But do you know where he is?’ The question was aimed at Charlotte again.

This time she gave her answer to Edward. ‘I don’t …’

He nodded, laying his hand on her arm with as much tenderness as he could muster. ‘They’re allowed to ask you whether you know where the person they’re looking for is. It’s entirely up to you whether you answer or not.’

‘We haven’t lived together for eighteen months. I have the name of his solicitor.’ Her voice was almost a whisper, her eyes pleading. Not just for him to help her get rid of these men. For him to understand.

‘Can we have that at least … please?’ The word please seemed to stick in the man’s throat and he took another step forward, as if this was an invitation into the house.

‘Wait there.’ Edward turned to Charlotte and she nodded. She knew as well as he did that if she could give these men something it might get them off her back. ‘Go and get it, then.’

She hurried inside and Edward indulged in a staring contest with the men, open hostility buzzing between them. She returned, clutching a piece of paper with a hastily scribbled address on it, and gave it to Edward. ‘Here it is.’

Edward turned back to the men on the pavement. ‘Right. The lady hasn’t seen her husband in months, and she doesn’t know where he is. She’s given you every assistance she can in locating him, and this ends her involvement in the matter.’

‘All right.’ The man snatched the paper that Edward proffered. ‘And you’re sure you don’t know where he is?’

‘Doesn’t sound very likely to me,’ his companion sneered, forcing home the point. ‘Doesn’t he want to see his own kid?’

Edward heard Charlotte’s sudden intake of breath and fought to stay in control of the fury that swept over him in a red-and-black wave. Much as he’d like to, getting into a fight with these guys wasn’t going to help. ‘You’ve asked your question and you’ve got your answer. You know full well that the law prevents you from harassing this lady any further or from speaking to a minor.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to get going before I call the police.’

The two looked at each other, grins on their faces. Edward wondered how many people actually followed through with that threat. He started to thumb the numbers on the screen.

‘All right, mate.’ The larger of the two, who was obviously the lead man, held up his hands in surrender. ‘We’re going.’

‘Tell your head office to expect a letter, confirming the information that this lady’s given you. She knows nothing more which will assist you, and she wants no further contact with you.’ Edward pressed his advantage home.

The two turned without a word and Edward watched them lumber off down the road and climb into a shiny SUV. Business was clearly booming for them.

‘Go and see to Isaac. I’ll just keep an eye out here for a couple of minutes.’ The SUV roared past them down the road, with the engine being gunned so that it made as much noise as possible.

He looked around. Charlotte was still there, her face burning so red that he probably could have warmed his hands on it if he’d needed to.

‘Thanks, Edward. I’m sorry you had to see that.’

‘It’s not your fault. Those guys had no right to act the way they did.’

Her gaze dropped to the cracked paving stones at their feet. ‘Yeah, I know. It was such a shock to see them on the doorstep, and they were so intimidating.’ She looked as if she was about to burst into tears and then visibly pulled herself together.

Turning, she hurried back up the path and opened the front door. ‘I’m really grateful to you, Edward. I’ll …’ She had the grace to flush an even deeper red before she gave him his marching orders. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to go and see how Isaac is. Will you excuse me? I’ll see you on Monday.’

The door closed, and Edward found himself standing alone. What was he supposed to do now? Charlotte had made her intentions more than clear, and he supposed he should leave. But he was damned if he was going to leave a woman and child alone in this situation.

Edward strode to his car, snatched Stinky up from the front seat, and walked back to her front door.




CHAPTER THREE (#uef1053d8-9af2-5a9a-adbf-83a39f1e8577)


ISAAC WAS WHIMPERING in her arms. He was trying to be brave, but his little body was shaking as he clung to Charlotte. She wanted to go and find those men and punch them. More than once.

There was a noise at the letterbox and she tried not to jump. Isaac fell silent, staring at the door.

‘Charlotte? Charlotte, I have Stinky here. That’s what I came for this morning. He’s too big to put through the letterbox.’

She thought about telling Edward to leave him on the doorstep. She might possibly have been able to, whatever the consequences later on, if she hadn’t seen the look on Isaac’s face. It was as if he’d just seen the cavalry, riding hell for leather over the horizon.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe his five-year-old mind was able to see a little more clearly than hers. She wouldn’t be all that surprised. Edward engendered such a plethora of different emotions in her that her judgement wasn’t to be trusted where he was concerned.

‘I’m coming.’ she called out to him, and took Isaac’s hand, leading him to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

She had hardly registered it before, through her tears and her panic, but Edward’s eyes looked a brighter blue than usual. His hair darker. There was less of the suit and tie about him and a great deal more of the enigma, with his dark shirt and jacket giving him an almost dangerous look. Even the blue stuffed toy, grasped lightly in his long fingers, couldn’t dispel the feeling that here was a hero, come somehow to save her.

‘Hey, Isaac.’

He might only have been able to spare her son a half-smile, but it would have melted an ice hotel, launched a battleship, and cracked a grin on the face of a statue.

‘I brought Stinky for you.’

Isaac looked up at him and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Charlotte resisted the impulse to tell him to use a tissue on the grounds that she’d been doing the same herself just a moment ago. This morning Isaac could do anything he liked, as long as she could see just a glimpse of his smile.

‘Thank you.’ Isaac’s voice was small, quavering, and it tugged at Charlotte’s heart.

‘Bit of a morning, eh, little man?’ Edward suddenly seemed to realise that getting down onto Isaac’s level would be a good idea and dropped to one knee, proffering the boy’s toy.

Isaac nodded, reaching for Stinky. Charlotte felt his hand slip out of hers and he walked uncertainly towards Edward, then seemed to throw all caution to the winds and flung his arms around Edward’s neck.

‘Hey … Hey, there.’ For a moment Edward’s hands fluttered awkwardly. Then he wrapped his arms around Isaac, hugging him as if he could hold him tightly enough to make everything all right.

For a moment all Charlotte wanted was to be in on that hug.

‘You know what?’ Edward had got to his feet, taking Isaac with him. Safe and sound in his arms. ‘You and I have a job to do. We’re going to tell your mum that everything’s going to be okay. That we’ll look after her.’

Isaac nodded sagely.

‘I think we could all do with a cup of tea. What do you say?’

‘I want milk.’

‘Good idea. I’ll have some milk, too. And we’ll make your mum a cup of tea.’

‘She likes coffee. The kind with the froth on top.’

Isaac had a tight hold of Edward’s jacket collar, his other arm wrapped around Stinky. Charlotte knew that his tears weren’t too far below the surface, but Edward seemed to be reassuring him with his sheer bulk and unflappability.

‘Okay. Tell you what—we could go out for coffee, if you’d like.’ His gaze moved from Isaac to Charlotte. ‘What do you think?’

‘I …’ She wanted his arms around her so much. His comfort. Charlotte pulled herself upright, squaring her shoulders. ‘We’re all right. Really.’

‘Yeah. I can see that.’ He reached forward, touching her cheek so lightly that she shivered. As his hand dropped to his side his fingers skimmed his thumb, as if he wanted to test the exact nature and volume of the tears he’d brushed away.

‘We can manage, Edward. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t turned up just then, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’ Good start. That was really going to make him feel that it was okay for him to go away now, wasn’t it?

‘But …?’

‘But I can’t keep you. You must have things to do.’

Edward always had something to do. His head was always buried in a book, or some papers. Even when she’d chanced to see him in the street he was always deep in thought, and half the time he didn’t even acknowledge her, either because he hadn’t seen or didn’t want to see.

‘I don’t think so. In fact I’ve nothing to do today. It’s only fifteen minutes over to my place.’ He pursed his lips, as if he’d surprised himself by the invitation as much as he’d just surprised Charlotte. ‘We’ll get coffee on the way, and we can talk … privately. Perhaps I can help.’

She could have turned his help down for herself, but she had Isaac to think about, and Charlotte had no choice but to grab at any and every offer that came her way. And there was the matter of that nagging need at the back of her head, which wanted her to explain to Edward, tell him that she wasn’t the person that all of this made her seem. She was going to have to swallow her pride and go for coffee.

Edward had waited in the hallway while she dragged on a pair of jeans, shoved her feet into her sandals and splashed her face with water. Her eyes had looked puffy in the mirror, but she hadn’t wanted to keep him waiting for too long, so she’d dropped her make-up bag into a canvas holdall along with a few of Isaac’s favourite toys to keep him occupied.

They’d stopped at a coffee shop and Edward had ushered them in. Isaac had slipped his hand into Edward’s, tugging at his jacket until he’d lifted him up to see over the counter. He seemed to trust that if he stuck with his new friend no harm would come to them, and Charlotte hoped that her son was right.

Now they turned into a wide street, dappled by sunlight shining through the branches of the trees. Turned again into a short drive, behind a high wall hung with greenery, and came to a halt outside a double-fronted Georgian house, white-painted with slim, elegant lines.

It was quiet here. Far enough from the main road for them to be able to hear birdsong. Charlotte handed Edward the cardboard coffee holder and busied herself with getting Isaac out of the car.

The silence between them was oppressive. Edward seemed awkward as he opened the front door, walking inside without even asking them in, and Charlotte began to wish that she was anywhere but here. Apart from being at home, that was, waiting for the phone to ring again.

‘Well …’ He clapped his hands together awkwardly, like a man who was unused to guests. ‘Here we are.’

‘Yes.’ Charlotte stepped tentatively over the threshold, holding tightly onto Isaac’s hand. Inside the house it was tranquil—a cream-painted hallway, pictures on the walls, green plants everywhere.

‘Let’s go into the sitting room.’ Edward seemed to galvanise himself into action and opened a wide panelled door, ushering them through it.

Sunlight streamed through the front windows onto pale oatmeal-coloured sofas at the front. A TV, nestling unobtrusively in one corner, conceded pride of place to a state-of-the-art sound system. The room ran the full depth of the house, and next to the French windows at the back stood a grand piano.

‘What a lovely room.’ She gave her son’s hand a squeeze, although whether it was to give or receive confidence she wasn’t quite sure. ‘Isn’t it, Isaac?’

Isaac was too busy looking around to reply. At the lines of glass-fronted cabinets, heavy with books. The green plants, arching gracefully around the windows.

‘Come and meet Archie.’ Edward beckoned Isaac over towards the French windows, where a ginger cat lay stretched out on the carpet, basking in the warm sunlight.

‘Is he a lion?’ Isaac looked up at him gravely.

Edward laughed. ‘Well, he’s not very fierce. You won’t need that.’ He gestured towards Isaac’s plastic ray gun, which he’d insisted on bringing along with him.

Isaac stowed the ray gun in his pocket, just in case he’d need it later, and followed Edward over to where the cat lay. He watched solemnly as Edward tickled its ears and then its tummy as it rolled over, luxuriating in his touch.

‘Do you want to stroke him?’

Edward was letting Isaac approach the creature in his own time, and Charlotte smiled as Isaac slowly reached out.

‘He’s growling.’ Isaac snatched his hand away.

‘No, that’s purring. It means he likes you.’ Edward drew back a little, letting Isaac stroke Archie.

‘Be gentle with him, sweetie. Remember that he’s much smaller than you are.’ Charlotte stayed at her post by the door, still not sure whether to accept the quiet welcome of this place.

‘Would Isaac like to watch some TV? While we talk?’

‘Oh. Yes, he might do. Thank you.’ Charlotte took the remote that Edward proffered and found a channel that Isaac liked, turning the sound down to a quiet murmur.

Edward set a low coffee table in front of the screen, put Isaac’s frothed milk onto it and opened a cupboard, drawing out the molecule modelling kit.

Charlotte grinned. ‘You’re going to let him play with your toys?’

‘If I share, then maybe he’ll let me have a go with his ray gun. Will he be all right here?’

‘He’ll be fine. Look, he’s already made a new friend.’ Charlotte nodded towards Isaac, who was talking confidingly to Archie, stroking him carefully.

‘Good. Well, we can talk through here.’

There was a door at the far end of the room, by the piano, and Edward disappeared through it, leaving Charlotte to get Isaac out of his jacket and settle him in front of the television.

She took one last look at Isaac, and then took a deep breath. Time to face Edward now. Now that keeping up appearances was no longer an option it was going to have to be the truth. She just hoped that he would understand.

He was sitting at a table in the large kitchen, studying the coffee in front of him as if there was some solution in there. She could tell him the answer to that. She’d tried it enough times herself. She mustered a smile, and sat down opposite him.

‘So who’s Archie named after? Archimedes?’ She pulled her own coffee towards her and peeled off the plastic lid. It was smooth and strong and the caffeine hit her straight between the eyes.

He looked up, suddenly aware of her presence. ‘Yes, actually. Although it’s a mispronunciation, of course. Am I that predictable?’

‘No. I thought of the most unlikely thing I could and suggested that—’ She broke off as he smiled at her. That smile did all kinds of things to her, none of which were going to be of much help at the moment.

‘So.’ His gaze dropped to his cup again. ‘You’re in trouble, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. I am.’ She should have realised that Edward would cut straight to the point. He wasn’t much for small talk. Charlotte hadn’t anticipated how much of a relief it would be. ‘It isn’t what you think.’

He looked up at her. Those deep blue eyes were almost irresistible. ‘I’m not thinking anything.’

‘You’re always thinking something, aren’t you?’

A trace of a grin tugged at his lips. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

Suddenly she wanted to defend herself from all the implications of what Edward had seen and from whatever conclusions that agile, razor-sharp mind of his was working its way towards. ‘The debts aren’t mine, Edward.’

‘I know. It was your husband they were looking for …’

‘He’ll be my ex-husband soon. Very soon, if everything goes as planned.’

Maybe she should have been a little less vehement about that. Said it a little more as if it was a matter of fact rather than an avowal of innocence. Edward seemed far more at home with facts than emotions.

‘Have you asserted your separation financially?’

‘Yes. There are no more joint accounts and credit cards. The house and the mortgage are in my name.’

‘Then you have nothing to worry about. As long as you’ve applied for a Deed of Separation, and you’re not jointly liable for any of his debts …’

‘How do you know all this?’ The question had occurred to Charlotte on her doorstep, but she’d pushed it to the back of her mind.

‘I have a degree in Law.’

‘As well as being a surgeon?’

‘I … um … I was advised to wait until I was eighteen to go to medical school. I was at a loose end.’

‘So …’ The gossip was correct, then. ‘You are a genius?’

‘They called it “gifted” when I was a kid. Now it’s called High Learning Potential.’

The twitch of his lips told Charlotte that they were just labels, which Edward didn’t set much store by.

‘I don’t need to be a genius to know that there’s more to your situation than what you’ve told me.’

There was a lot more. Charlotte grinned at him almost automatically, the way she did whenever anyone offered anything that sounded a bit too much like sympathy. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, really. And you’re not going to convince me otherwise with that smile, either. Even if it is a very nice one.’

Stop now. One thing at a time. Having Edward as a concerned friend was already turning her universe upside down. It was a bit too soon for compliments.

‘You’re right, that’s not all. My husband had … I think it’s probably fair to say has … a gambling addiction.’

‘And that’s why you left him?’

‘I wasn’t that smart. I didn’t know about it until the bailiffs started calling. The first one was the day after Isaac’s second birthday.’ She sighed. She didn’t need to go into details; he was getting the gist. ‘I started out by paying his debts. He promised me that he’d stopped, and I believed him.’

‘But he lied?’ He was blunt, but there was no brutality there. Just the truth.

‘Yes, he just kept on racking up the debts. Internet gaming sites, card games … He maxed out our credit cards and I dipped into the money I’d inherited from my parents just to keep a roof over our heads.’ Charlotte gulped in a breath of air. This time she was going to do things better. She had to for Isaac’s sake.

‘But you couldn’t hold it together.’ Another flat, emotionless statement of the inevitable facts.

‘I did for a while. Then he left. That was eighteen months ago. I sold the house, paid off all the debts, and managed to scrape enough together for a deposit on a smaller house. Made a new start for Isaac and me.’

Edward just nodded.

Caught in the force of his concentration, Charlotte realised that Edward was not an absent-minded, otherworldly creature. He was thinking things through, his ruthless single-mindedness not allowing a single detail to escape.

‘Does your husband know where you are?’

‘Yes, he knows. I was hoping that he’d come and see Isaac but he never has.’

Charlotte heaved a sigh. She didn’t need to tell him about the thing that had damned her the most—it didn’t affect the problem at hand. Anyway, it was humiliating.

Even more so than having to admit she was being chased by her husband’s debtors.

She met those blue eyes again. Ever questioning, but not as judgemental as she’d feared.

‘And you said your divorce is in the pipeline?’

‘Yes. I have the Decree Nisi and I’m waiting for the Decree Absolute. I’m hoping that he won’t throw any spanners into the works and put in a last-minute objection.’

‘Do you have any reason to think he will?’

‘No … Maybe … I don’t know. Peter’s not exactly the most predictable of people.’ Charlotte sighed. ‘He’s not strong. He’ll do whatever gets him through the day and forget all about the consequences for tomorrow.’

‘You don’t trust him.’

Damn right she didn’t. She had very little reason to. ‘No, I don’t. The men who called this morning aren’t the only people looking to get paid. I had a telephone call last night from someone who said I owed money for a mobile phone bill.’

‘Do you?’

‘No!’ She was protesting too much again. ‘My phone’s a pay-as-you-go …’

Charlotte reached for her handbag to show him the phone and Edward stopped her, laying his hand on her wrist.

‘It’s okay.’

‘It isn’t. The divorce won’t protect me if he’s managed to raise a line of credit in my name, and I’ve no money to pay off any more of his debts.’

It was as if she and Isaac were being dragged back into the nightmare that she’d worked so hard to get out of, and there was nothing she could do about it. Charlotte gulped back the tears, pulling her hand away from his grasp.

‘What did you tell them?’ He was still calm, almost icy cool. Still focussed on the facts.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She should try to sound a little more grateful, Edward had already helped her more than he had any reason to. ‘I said that I had no knowledge of the account in question and asked them to put everything in writing and send it to me.’

‘Good. We can start making enquiries on Monday. In the meantime, is there anyone that you and Isaac can stay with?’

‘Not really. My parents are dead and I don’t have any brothers or sisters …’ She tried to smile, make light of it, but Charlotte had never felt so alone. ‘We’ll be okay. I’ll take the phone off the hook and lock the door …’

‘You’ll stay here.’ Even Edward seemed surprised at his uncompromising words.

‘No! I mean … Edward, it’s kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t think of it.’

‘What about Isaac? I gather that Sunday mornings are a favourite time for debt collectors to make their calls. He’s old enough to know what’s going on now.’

Low blow. He’d found the spot where her guilt was almost unbearable. ‘I thought he was too young to remember. But when those men called this morning …’

Isaac had understood exactly who they were and had launched himself at them, trying to drive them away, trying to protect her. Charlotte had managed to keep hold of him, and the men had smirked at each other as she bundled him back into the house.

She heard Edward sigh.

‘Look, you need to get yourself and Isaac out of the firing line for a few days, until you have a chance to sort this out. I’ve plenty of room here—there are two spare bedrooms upstairs—and you’ll both be safe.’

He didn’t mince his words, or dress it up to make it sound as if she had a choice, but he was right. She did need to get her son away from this nightmare, and she had nowhere to take him.

‘Charlotte.’

He reached out to her, his finger tipping her chin upwards. His shrewd blue eyes saw straight through her. There were no excuses, no way that she could just fob him off with something.

‘Where else are you going to go?’




CHAPTER FOUR (#uef1053d8-9af2-5a9a-adbf-83a39f1e8577)


HE HADN’T MEANT to be cruel, just to look at the situation rationally. But when she finally gave way to her tears, her forehead sinking until it almost touched the surface of his kitchen table, her body trembling with the effort that it seemed to take her to cry, Edward realised that she wasn’t the only one who was in over her head. He didn’t feel equal to this—not the crying woman at his kitchen table, or the vulnerable child on his sofa—and the knowledge that he was way past the point of dispensing some good advice and leaving them to it wasn’t helping much.

‘Hey.’ He reached out, touching her arm tentatively with the tips of his fingers. ‘Charlotte, please don’t.’

She ignored him, and it had been a stupid thing to say anyway. Charlotte was at perfect liberty to do whatever she wanted. It was him who didn’t want her to cry, because it wrenched his heart so much to see it.

‘Okay. Well, you can cry as much as you like. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it down a bit or Isaac will be in here, blasting me with his ray gun for upsetting you. Which I didn’t mean to do, by the way.’

Her shoulders stopped shaking. Slowly she raised her head. For a moment Edward was unsure about whether she was going to burst into laughter or start crying again. He decided to wait. He’d probably said more than enough already.

‘I’ll pay you rent.’ Her voice was low, a little unsteady, but there was no doubt that she was back in control of herself.

‘No. I won’t accept it.’ She opened her mouth to protest and he silenced her with a look. ‘That’s not negotiable.’

‘I could clean for you.’

‘That’s not going to work either. I have a cleaning lady and there will be hell to pay if you put her out of a job.’

Somehow, from somewhere, she managed to find a smile. It was like basking in a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. ‘I wondered whether it was you who kept all these plants watered.’

‘We have an … understanding. She looks after Archie and the plants, doesn’t move anything that I’m working on, and I keep out of her way and don’t forget to pay her. Works like a dream.’

‘I’m sure it does. Does she cook?’

‘I imagine so. Not while she’s here, though.’

‘I’ll cook for you, then.’

She narrowed her eyes obstinately and a sudden flood of longing gripped him. He hadn’t counted on these sorts of complications, and wondered whether what he was about to do was wise.

‘Okay. Deal.’

She bit her lip. ‘Isaac won’t be any trouble. He won’t touch any of your things. I’ll make sure of it …’

That sounded a bit dull. ‘I can put anything that I don’t want touched away out of his reach. And he can be as much trouble as he likes.’

She gave a tremulous laugh. Charlotte wasn’t just a pretty face; she was tough, too. And brave. And about a million other things, all of which he felt inexplicably driven to find out more about.

‘You have no idea how much trouble a determined five-year-old can be and, trust me, you don’t want to find out.’

‘Well … I’ll leave that to you. What I mean is that you should make yourselves at home.’ His mother was always telling him that this house was far too big for one. Granted this was not what she’d had in mind, but the principle was a good one. There was more than enough room for him to carry on with his life, undisturbed by two house guests.

‘Thank you. I really appreciate this, Edward. And it’ll only be for a few days, while I get everything sorted out.’

‘You can stay as long as you like.’

He knew that it would take longer than a few days to work this out, and he didn’t want her or Isaac going back home until it was. They’d both been through too much already.

After he’d taken them back to Charlotte’s house, to pack what they needed, Edward had left them to their own devices. They had their own routine, which clearly involved eating and sleeping at regular intervals, and he had his, which disregarded any such practical activities in favour of whatever he happened to be doing at the time.

When he parked outside his house on Sunday evening his mind was still racing from the concepts that had been explored in the afternoon seminar he’d attended, and then endlessly again afterwards over sandwiches. The house was dark, and as he slipped his key into the lock on the front door it occurred to him that Charlotte might have taken her son and left, leaving a note on the hall table for him to find when he got back.

‘Oh, no, you don’t …’ He muttered the words to himself, since she wasn’t around to hear them.

He slid the key into the lock and the door gave by six inches, then caught. The chain, which usually hung unused from the frame, barred his entry. At least he wasn’t going to have to get back into his car and drive over to Charlotte’s house, to make sure that she and Isaac were all right.

All the same, there was the small matter of being locked out of his own home. Ringing the bell would probably wake Isaac up, as would bellowing through the letterbox, so Edward pulled the door to, twisting the key to relock it.

He seldom took the path around the side of the house, and he jumped as a pair of iridescent orbs appeared from the bushes. ‘Locked out as well, eh?’ Archie swished his tail. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s a bit much.’

Discomfiture that his arrival home hadn’t provided the usual well-ordered release from the complications of the world began to swell into anger.

He didn’t need to find the key for the French windows; they were standing open. She was there, in the failing light, curled up in a chair on the stone-flagged patio.

‘Charlotte!’

She jumped, throwing off the woollen jacket that was wrapped around her shoulders and twisting around. When she saw him she smiled, and Edward felt the hard edges of his anger melt.

‘It’s you …’ She rubbed her eyes with her hand, as if she had been dozing.

It occurred to Edward to make the point that there wasn’t much to gain by locking the front door if she was going to fall asleep with the doors to the patio wide open. But that sounded rather too much like criticism, and he’d already seen her flinch enough times when she or Isaac did something that she thought he might disapprove of.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘I must have just dropped off …’ Her gaze swung from him to the house and then back again. ‘Ohhh. I locked you out …’

That didn’t seem so much of an issue as it had a moment ago. ‘Putting the chain on the front door’s a sensible precaution at night.’

‘And falling asleep with the patio doors open isn’t.’ She gave a little self-deprecatory smile.

He shrugged, as if he’d not thought about that. ‘Why don’t you give yourself a break? You’re safe here. No one can find you.’ No one apart from him. He liked that thought so much that he dumped his briefcase on the stone flags and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to her.

She nodded. ‘Thank you. Having a safe place to stay has meant a great deal to me and Isaac.’

‘So you’ve had a good day?’

‘Yes, thank you. We had lunch and then went to the park. They’ve got a great playground there, and a lovely cafeteria. We played football, as well.’

She made it sound like a real treat, and Edward found himself smiling, wondering whether football wouldn’t have been preferable to a dark, humid lecture theatre. She and Isaac were a small, self-sufficient unit, though. They probably wouldn’t have wanted him along.

‘Sounds nice. Have you thought about what you’re going to do yet? With regard to your situation?’ He tried to put it delicately.

‘I called Paula and she’s going to lend me her laptop tomorrow. I’ve drawn up a list of things I need to find out about, and then I can start in on sorting everything out.’

Edward had left his own laptop on the coffee table, specifically so she could use it if she wanted to go on the internet. He should have thought that she wouldn’t touch it, or allow Isaac to either, without asking. ‘No need for that. Mine’s right there.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’ There was a hint of awkwardness in her manner as she slid to the edge of her seat. ‘Would you like something to drink? There’s some hot chocolate …’

Her determination to pay her own way seemed to know no bounds. Everything he did for her—things that he gave without expecting anything in return—was entered on a balance sheet in her head to be repaid at a later date. Edward was debating whether he should tell her that she really didn’t need to wait on him like this, but she was on her feet already.

‘Hot chocolate would be great. Thank you.’

Since she so much wanted to do something for him, he supposed he should let her, and Charlotte’s bright smile as she disappeared into the house tentatively proved his theory.

She brought him a mug of creamy hot chocolate, along with a plate of home-made biscuits.

‘Thank you.’ He took a sip and nodded his approval. Archie materialised from his nightly tour of the garden and curled up under her chair. If she’d been feeding him as well as she seemed intent on feeding Edward he couldn’t fault the animal’s change of allegiance. ‘There’s something I want you to do for me.’

She brightened noticeably. ‘Yes, of course. What is it?’

Too late, Edward realised that he should have chosen his words more carefully. The impression that she was about to do him a favour was accurate enough, in the context of the amount of thinking time he’d already given to her plight, but Charlotte probably wouldn’t see it that way.

‘My father has his own practice at law, and I want you to consider making an appointment to go and see him. He can advise you and get his investigative team to find out exactly what’s going on. With my dad on your side, you can get things sorted out quicker and more efficiently.’

‘But I can’t afford to pay a lawyer, Edward.’

‘You won’t need to. If I ask him, he’ll do it for free.’

She hesitated. For a moment Edward thought that her pride was going to let her see sense and give in to expediency. Then she shook her head.

‘No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Please don’t mention it to him.’

He sighed. ‘What isn’t fair is that you’re spending time on researching and fighting your own battles when there are people who will happily help you out. It’s not just you that it makes an impact on—it’s your work at the clinic.’

That particular argument didn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Charlotte must have been worried sick over the last couple of weeks, but she’d never shown any evidence of it on the job.

She frowned at him. ‘I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of my work.’

‘I know you wouldn’t mean to, but none of us can be expected to give a hundred per cent when we’re under the kind of pressure that you’re facing at the moment.’ He was pressing hard, exploiting every chink in her armour.

She hesitated. ‘Edward, I … You’re confusing me.’

Well, now she knew how he felt. ‘It’s very simple, Charlotte. Trust me.’

Two little words, spoken almost as a throwaway to emphasise his point. He should have known better. If he’d thought about it for two seconds he would have realised that trust was something she had a lot of difficulty with.

‘I’m sorry.’ Without another word, she got to her feet and disappeared into the house.

Edward leaned back in his chair and stared out into the evening shadows. Archie slid past his legs, waiting to be stroked, and he ran his fingers thoughtfully along the cat’s back. Adjusting to the complex myriad of emotions that Charlotte and Isaac had brought to the quiet peace of his home was proving more difficult than he’d imagined.

The green reflective eyes seemed for a moment to understand his frustration, and then Archie was off again, his instinctive urge to chase shadows getting the better of him. Edward silently wished him better luck than he’d had tonight.

* * *

Edward had left the house before she was up the following morning. Charlotte went through the routine of getting herself up and ready for work, and Isaac ready for school, almost on autopilot. She was well aware that she’d walked out on Edward in the middle of a conversation last night, and common courtesy demanded that if he decided to broach the subject again she should have some kind of reasoned answer for him.

‘Mum …?’

‘Yes, Isaac.’

‘Is everything going to be all right?’

She sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. ‘Of course it is. What makes you ask that, sweetie?’

Some kind of understanding of the situation they were in, perhaps?

Isaac shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

His brow was still furrowed, perhaps as a result of the unerring radar that seemed to alert him whenever something was wrong, even though he didn’t grasp quite what it was.

‘Look, sweetie. Those men came to our house by mistake on Saturday—they weren’t looking for us. We’re staying here with Edward for a few days, while I get everything sorted out, but that’s going to happen very soon. Everything’s going to be okay.’

‘Do you promise?’

He still lived in a world where she could make everything right. Those trusting eyes would give Charlotte the courage to face anything that the world could throw at her. They’d even give her the courage to ask just one more favour from Edward.

‘Yes. I promise. Cross my heart.’

She’d gone straight to Edward’s office when she’d arrived at work and left a note for him on his desk. As luck would have it, he returned from his morning’s surgery just as Allie and Paula were both within range of the nurses’ station, beckoning Charlotte into his office in full view of both of them.

She was aware that two pairs of eyes were following her every move, so knew she’d better make this quick. ‘I wanted to apologise. For last night …’

‘You have nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you sit down?’ He threw himself into his leather chair.

‘Because …’ Charlotte shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. ‘We said we’d be discreet about our current living arrangements. And we’re being watched.’




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