Bound By Their Babies: Bound by Their Babies
Bound By Their Babies: Bound by Their Babies
Caroline Anderson
Amy Ruttan
About the Authors (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
CAROLINE ANDERSON is a matriarch, writer, armchair gardener, unofficial tearoom researcher and eater of lovely cakes. Not necessarily in that order! What Caroline loves: her family. Her friends. Reading. Writing contemporary love stories. Hearing from readers. Walks by the sea with coffee/ice cream/cake thrown in! Torrential rain. Sunshine in spring/autumn. What Caroline hates: losing her pets. Fighting with her family. Cold weather. Hot weather. Computers. Clothes shopping. Caroline’s plans: keep smiling and writing!
Born and raised just outside Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. After the birth of her second child Amy was lucky enough to realise her lifelong dream of becoming a romance author. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mum to three wonderful children who use her as a personal taxi and chef.
Also By Caroline Anderson
The Valtieri Baby
Snowed in with the Billionaire
Yoxburgh Park Hospital miniseries
From Christmas to Eternity
The Secret in His Heart
Risk of a Lifetime
Best Friend to Wife and Mother?
Their Meant-to-Be Baby
The Midwife’s Longed-for Baby
Bound by Their Babies
Also By Amy Ruttan
Perfect Rivals…
Tempting Nashville’s Celebrity Doc
Unwrapped by the Duke
Alejandro’s Sexy Secret
His Pregnant Royal Bride
Convenient Marriage, Surprise Twins
Navy Doc on Her Christmas List
The Surgeon King’s Secret Baby
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Bound by Their Babies
Caroline Anderson
A Mummy for His Daughter
Amy Ruttan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09570-9
BOUND BY THEIR BABIES & A MUMMY FOR HIS DAUGHTER
Bound by Their Babies © 2018 Caroline Anderson A Mummy for His Daughter © 2018 Amy Ruttan
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Cover (#ufbb4f085-8389-52af-8eca-6fe92a24bd22)
About the Authors (#u4c44fb5e-dc0e-52c1-b4ea-5a9cfe1d0a41)
Booklist (#u811d41ba-db6b-537c-bc8e-cb81e06eab35)
Title Page (#u6e6f39b9-7b1b-5d76-870c-348f8643d7ce)
Copyright (#u912c0126-fc42-5ca5-a061-ad9157cb1351)
Bound by Their Babies (#u0c29ec94-c5dc-5edf-819a-ffc0225754d8)
Back Cover Text (#uac83f50e-b384-51d1-8aa3-6d8f105b781f)
Dedication (#ud9cd337a-ea63-54da-ad3c-ec64ac0b83eb)
PROLOGUE (#ufa5098e6-8930-528b-92a5-2442f2aa8118)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua3182764-9332-5884-8d9c-69f30ade4f07)
CHAPTER TWO (#u6dc48ca7-54db-590a-b2e5-3d5ebcd4c086)
CHAPTER THREE (#ub92e702b-4e7e-558b-b9f7-09d36eb58fc8)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u92049e52-e298-5168-ad9e-f3a1405ad69c)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
A Mummy for His Daughter (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Bound by Their Babies (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
Caroline Anderson
Best friends, single parents...
Now they need each other like never before!
Obstetricians Jake and Emily have supported each other through tough times. But when they both become single parents, there’s only one solution—move in together and share the job and the childcare! Only, the secret desires they’ve held for each other become very tough to hide. But would revealing their love risk their friendship—or answer their dreams?
Special thanks to the Gibbs family, who were inadvertently so helpful with the medical elements. I’m so glad it all went well in the end!
And huge thanks to my daughter Sarah for the excellent source material in the form of her four delightful and often hilarious young children, who help me to remember just how challenging parenting can be!
I love you all. xxx
PROLOGUE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
June
‘HI, EM. I’VE just come out of Theatre and found two missed calls, and I tried the house phone and got no reply. Where are you? Are you OK?’
Jake heard a soft laugh, then a little gasp, and his pulse shifted a notch.
‘Em? Talk to me!’
‘I’m in labour, but I can’t do this. I need you, Jake...’ Another little gasp. ‘I’m in Maternity Reception—’
She broke off breathlessly, the contraction obviously peaking, and his heart went into overdrive.
‘I’ll be right there,’ he promised, and sliding his phone back into his pocket, he told a colleague to page the registrar to take over from him and headed for the lift at a run, his heart hammering.
Crazy. There was no reason for him to react like this. He was an obstetrician, for heaven’s sake! He spent his life surrounded by women in labour, but this was different. This was Emily, his dearest, oldest, closest friend, and he’d promised he’d be there for her. Not as an obstetrician but as her birth partner, and that was much harder because it wasn’t his place to be there, it was Pete’s.
But Pete, her husband of eleven years, the father of her baby, couldn’t be here with her today or any other day. The man who’d had everything any man could want—everything he himself wanted—had lost it all for ever in a cruel twist of fate, and now all Emily had was Jake.
How could he possibly take Pete’s place?
The lift was on a go-slow, and he drummed his fingers on the door, wishing he’d taken the stairs. Come on, come on...
The doors finally hissed open, and there she was, leaning against the window opposite and breathing with soft, light huffs.
‘I’m here, Em, I’ve got you,’ he murmured, and laid his hand on the small of her back and rubbed firmly, and she moaned softly and leant into him, rocking from foot to foot as he stared out into the darkness and waited for the contraction to ease.
The first hint of dawn was just appearing on the horizon, a thin sliver of grey pushing back the night. New day, new life...
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, when the huffing stopped and she straightened up.
‘Awful.’ She turned and met his eyes, her own pinched with fear as she took his hands and hung on. ‘It’s not due for two weeks, how can I be in labour? I’m just not ready, Jake.’
Which made two of them. ‘Yes, you are. You know babies, Em. They come when they come, but at least you’re here now and I didn’t have a thirty-mile drive in the middle of the night to get to you.’
‘Oh, don’t! I thought you were being silly making me move in with you this week. I so nearly didn’t come. I didn’t think there was any need yet, and now I just can’t believe it’s happening.’
‘I can, so I’m really glad you finally listened to me—and you’ll be fine,’ he promised rashly. ‘You’re fit and well—’
‘Don’t give me that. I’m an obstetrician too, I know all the things that can go wrong, and fit and well’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘And you also know the odds, which are slim,’ he said calmly, even though his heart was still pounding. ‘You’ll be fine, Emily. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.’
‘You can’t say that.’
‘I can. I have,’ he told her, mentally crossing his fingers, because this baby was her last link with Pete, and absolutely nothing could be allowed to break that link. ‘Come on, let’s get you upstairs and admit you. Can you walk, or do you want a wheelchair?’
‘Walk. It’s easier.’
‘OK.’ He led her to the lift, and somebody was holding the doors. Liv, one of their most trusted midwives, and he felt a surge of relief as he flashed her a smile.
‘Hi, Liv. This is Emily—the friend I told you about? Em, Liv’s a senior midwife and she’s amazing.’
‘And you’re a smooth talker,’ Liv said with a laugh. ‘Hi, Emily, it’s good to meet you. I’ll come up with you, get you settled in. Want me to stay for the delivery?’ she added to Jake, and he nodded.
‘That would be great if you can,’ he said, as Emily turned into his arms, gripped his shoulders and moaned softly. ‘It’s OK, Em. Just breathe, in and out, nice and light,’ he coaxed gently, and felt the soft huff of her breath drift against the open V of his scrubs. ‘That’s it, well done, you’re doing really well.’
‘Two minutes forty,’ Liv murmured, and he nodded. They were coming thick and fast. No wonder she was struggling.
The lift pinged, and the grip on his shoulders eased.
‘Are we there?’
‘Yes. Come on, let’s get you comfortable.’
* * *
They felt like the longest two hours of his life, Em’s contractions blurring into each other in an untidy avalanche punctuated by calm reassurance and steady progress reports from Liv.
He was so glad Liv had stayed with them. He trusted her, and in this situation he felt so out of his depth it was absurd, but Liv was calm and in control and she handled it brilliantly while he tried to stop being a doctor and did what he could to help Em.
He rubbed her back, he held her hand, he walked her round, he held her, rocked her, mopped her brow, and then at last he lifted up the squalling, slippery little body of her son and laid him against the bare skin of her breast, his eyes blinded by tears as he tucked a warm towel around the baby.
‘Well done, Em. Well done. Clever girl.’
‘What is it?’
‘A boy,’ he said, his voice catching. He swallowed hard and tried again. ‘It’s a boy.’
Her head was bent so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see her fingers, the tender, sure curve of them over the baby’s head, the loving touch of a mother soothing her baby in those momentous moments after birth.
She pressed her lips to the baby’s head. ‘Hello, little one,’ she murmured, her voice a caress. ‘Welcome to the world.’
He was quiet now, his eyes fixed on his mother’s, tiny fingers curled around hers, and Jake’s throat was so clogged he couldn’t speak, but he squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him and smiled, her eyes shimmering in the slanting light of the early morning sun.
‘We did it,’ she said softly, her voice incredulous. ‘We actually did it.’
‘No, you did it,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘You’ve been so brave through all of this. Pete would be really proud of you.’
A tear slid down her cheek, and she gave a tiny nod and kissed the baby again.
‘He’s lovely and pink,’ Liv said with a smile, and Jake stepped back and made room for her to do her job. His presence was redundant now, and he just wanted to get out into the fresh air and sort out his feelings, because they were all over the place and some of them had no business being there at all.
‘Apgar score ten at one minute,’ Liv was saying to the other midwife, and he turned to the basin and washed his hands on autopilot, his emotions flayed.
It was fourteen months since Matilda had been born last April at his old hospital on the other side of Suffolk, but it could have been yesterday. It was the only other time he’d been at what felt like the wrong end of a delivery bed, and he’d been shocked at how emotional he’d been when his tiny daughter had been put in his arms, and how much he’d instantly loved her.
He’d only just started here at Yoxburgh Park Hospital then and Jo had refused to move with him, but he’d been there for Matilda’s birth, heard her first cry, been there to hold her, to bond with her, and he spent as much time with her now as he could.
It didn’t feel like enough, but at least he was alive. At least he knew his precious, darling Tilly, and she knew him. Pete would never know his son. The nearest he’d got was a grainy ultrasound image of a tiny foetus taken shortly before he’d died. Now Em was alone, and her little boy would never know his father. That gutted Jake, but he’d always be there for them, whenever he could. He’d promised Pete, and that promise to a dying man was unbreakable.
He went back to Em and stroked her damp, tangled blonde hair gently. ‘I’ll see you later. Give me a call when you’re all tidied up, and I’ll come back.’
Her mouth opened—on a protest?—and then closed again, and she gave him a fleeting smile and nodded. ‘Go and get a coffee or something. I’m not going anywhere fast.’
‘OK. Look after them for me, Liv.’
He gave Em a smile no steadier than her own, shunted the door out of the way and went out into the corridor.
It was deserted, thankfully, because right then he just needed to be alone. He headed for the lift, strode down the corridor to the Park Café as it opened, picked up a cappuccino with an extra shot and went outside, sucking in the fresh air.
It was still cool, only seven o’clock, but it was going to be a gorgeous summer’s day and he found an unoccupied bench and sat sipping his coffee in the slanting post-dawn sunshine, letting the tension ease out of him.
He’d been so tense at times during Em’s labour—totally illogically because it had been utterly straightforward, but he had been, anyway. She’d been through so much with Pete in the last few years and he’d felt so responsible for her care and safety during her labour, so duty-bound to make sure that nothing bad happened either to Pete’s baby or to Emily herself.
He’d worried until he’d heard that first cry, but not for the baby so much as for Emily and what it would have done to her if anything had gone wrong. If the baby hadn’t made it...
He’d been much more detached about Jo when she was in labour—partly, he had to admit, because he’d never really been in love with her. Not that he was in love with Em, not that he’d ever admit to, even to himself, and certainly not to her, although he’d come close to it years ago after the wedding of mutual friends. It was shortly after she’d met Pete, and after the wedding wound up they’d walked back to their hotel and she’d gone to his room for coffee and things had got a little out of control.
Maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the music, maybe just the whole soppy romantic thing of it, but before he’d known what had happened they’d been on the brink of making love. Then her phone had pinged with a text from Pete, and it had acted like a bucket of cold water over both of them, stopping them in their tracks.
She’d fled to her room and they’d never mentioned it again in all these years, but it had been the moment when he realised the full extent of his feelings for her. Feelings she hadn’t reciprocated, because she’d gone straight back to Pete the following day and he’d had to learn to live with it.
He’d buried those feelings for her so deep he’d almost forgotten them, but he still loved her deeply as a friend, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, or her for him. She meant the world to him. She was his best, his dearest, most loyal and honest friend, and he’d be lost without her.
Not that her honesty was always an asset. There were times you didn’t want to be told you were being an idiot, but she’d never been wrong.
He’d met her in freshers’ week, when she’d found him handcuffed to the railings outside university halls at six in the morning, stark naked and horribly hungover, next to a pile of dew-soaked clothes carefully placed just out of reach. She’d been heading out for a run when she’d seen him, and she’d found the key taped to the fence beside his clothes and set him free, but not before she’d lectured his ear off.
In between laughing herself silly.
He’d loved her from that moment, through all the ups and downs of med school, their first clinical placements—dammit, he’d even walked her down the aisle to marry Pete, knowing he had cancer, knowing how hard it would be for her, but knowing, too, that he had to be there for her no matter what.
And he had been. Still was, always would be.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out and read the text with a chuckle.
Safe to come back now. The messy stuff is over. In a side room.
He drained his cold coffee, dropped the cup in a bin on the way past and went up to see her.
She was sitting up cross-legged in bed breastfeeding the baby, and it hit him like a brick. Jo had never done that—said it didn’t work for her, which had saddened him, but she’d made it clear that it wasn’t his decision and in the end he was just grateful she’d gone through with the pregnancy at all.
He shoved the thought aside and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to Emily’s forehead, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘OK. I feel much better now I’ve had a shower.’ She caught hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Thank you for getting me through it. I was so scared.’
He wrapped his hands around hers. ‘Silly girl. I told you I’d look after you, and I won’t stop just because you’ve had the baby now. You know I’m here for you for as long as you need me, don’t you? And I’m not just saying that.’
‘Oh, Jake...’
Her eyes welled, and he leant over and hugged her carefully before detaching himself and stepping back, creating some much-needed distance. ‘So, how’s the feeding going?’
‘Oh, he’s a natural, apparently. He certainly knows what he wants and goes for it—that’s good, according to Liv, although you could have fooled me,’ she added with a wry smile.
He chuckled. ‘It is good, and you’ll soon both settle into it.’ He dropped into the chair beside her bed and stifled a yawn.
‘Tired?’
‘A bit. Long night, with all this added excitement at the end of it, but see? I told you nothing would go wrong.’
Her smile faded. ‘Nothing else, you mean? I suppose never getting to meet his father is enough. We were probably owed a break.’
‘Yes, I think you were,’ he said softly, then after a slight pause, ‘Have you thought of a name?’
‘Zachary—Zach. Pete liked it, and he always said if we had a boy he’d want to call him that, so I said I would. Zachary Peter, for him, and Jacob.’ She smiled again and held his eyes. ‘For my best friend.’
‘Wow.’ He swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘That means a lot, Em. Thank you.’
‘It’s the least I could do. I couldn’t have done this without you, Jake—any of it. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane since Pete’s cancer came back.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’ve been amazing. You’ve done incredibly well.’
‘Hardly. I’ve just got through it one day at a time, didn’t have a choice.’ She looked down at her baby, fast asleep now, and a little worried frown crossed her face. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to go back to work and leave him.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t have to worry about that now. You’ve only just had him. There’s plenty of time.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t stop me worrying about how I’ll juggle a baby and my job. I can’t just ignore the future.’
He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry about money, Em,’ he said firmly. ‘It’ll sort itself out, and if it doesn’t, I’ll help you.’
‘How? You’re already supporting Jo and Matilda. You can’t run three households, Jake, and anyway, it’s not just money, it’s my career. I’m the sole breadwinner, have been for ages, but I worked hard to get where I am and I can’t afford to neglect it.’
He dug out a smile. ‘We’ll find a way. Just concentrate on the baby. He’s the most important thing, and the only thing you need to worry about at the moment. The rest will sort itself out. In the meantime, I’ve got two post-op patients to see and then I’m done, so I’ll go and get the house ready and come back for you.’
* * *
He made up the little crib he’d used for Matilda, put flowers in his sitting room to welcome her home, and went back with the car seat from her pram to find her ready to go.
‘Here—have a cuddle while I put my cardi on,’ she said, and he put the baby seat down on the bed and took Zach from her, settling him easily in the crook of an elbow and staring down at him with an odd sensation in his chest.
‘Hello, little guy,’ he murmured, his finger tracing the line of his tiny nose while that annoying lump reappeared in his throat. ‘Gosh, you’re like your daddy.’
‘That’s what his parents said. I sent them a photo. I’m so pleased for them that they haven’t lost all of him.’
And neither had Em. He swallowed the lump again and put his feelings back where they belonged, deep below the surface.
‘Come on, then. Time to go home,’ he said, clipping the baby into the seat, but his words echoed in the quiet room and he had to remind himself that, for them at least, his house wasn’t home, and he’d do well to remember it.
CHAPTER ONE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
The following April...
THERE WAS A tap on the door of the consulting room and it opened a crack.
‘Mr Stratton? I’m sorry to interrupt but Mr Walker’s in the Park Café and he needs you there straight away.’
Jake opened the door and frowned at the receptionist.
‘So why do I need to go? I’m in the middle of an antenatal clinic—’
She beckoned him out of the room and lowered her voice. ‘He’s with your little girl. Her mother’s disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’
‘Right. Can you find my registrar, please, and ask her to take over? I need to sort this out. And tell him I’m on my way.’
His mind whirling, he apologised hastily to his patient and sprinted down the corridor to the café. He couldn’t see anything at first, but he could hear Matilda crying hysterically, and he pushed his way through a crowd of onlookers and found Ben crouched down trying to soothe her in the buggy.
‘It’s OK, Tilly, I’m here,’ he said. ‘It’s all right, darling, you’re OK. Come to Daddy.’ He undid the straps and scooped her up into his arms, her little body racked with sobs as he sat down on the nearest chair and rocked her against his shoulder.
‘Dad-dy,’ she hiccupped, burrowing into his shoulder, and he rocked and hushed her while he tried to make sense of it.
Ben sat down beside him, and he looked at him in confusion. ‘I don’t understand. Where’s Jo, and why is Matilda even here?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ben said softly. ‘Jo said she recognised my name from my badge. She told me who she was, said she’d forgotten to put a ticket on the car and could I watch Matilda for a minute, and she hasn’t come back.’
‘When was that?’ he asked, but Ben just shrugged.
‘Fifteen minutes ago? She kissed her goodbye which I didn’t really think anything of, but she looked a bit upset for some reason and when she didn’t come back I started to wonder, and then I noticed this sticking out of the buggy so I rang the clinic.’
Ben was holding out an envelope and he stared at it blankly. ‘What is it?’
‘I have no idea. It’s addressed to you.’
He took it, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, flicked it open and scanned the words in disbelief, then read it again, just to be sure.
I’m sorry to do this to you, but I can’t look after Matilda any more. It’s not that I don’t love her, I do, and I’m sorry it didn’t work between us, but I’ve met someone I really want to be with, and we’re going travelling. I’ve always wanted to do that, and I know it seems selfish, but I have to do this for me, and I know she’ll be better off with you than she would with me.
She loves you to bits, and I know how much you love her, and you can give her a better life than I’ll ever be able to. I’d like to keep in touch with her and see her when I can, but please don’t try and contact me to talk me out of it. I know you would, that’s why I couldn’t tell you to your face, but I know this is the right thing for everyone, and I’m really sorry about all the money.
Love her for me.
J
Nothing else, except a key in the envelope. Ben held it out silently, and he frowned. The key to her house? Of course. With all Tilly’s stuff in it. No doubt she’d left already—and what was that about all the money? All what money?
‘This is crazy. She can’t just walk out on Matilda. I’ll call her.’ He pulled out his phone, rang her number and got no answer. Great. He looked back at Ben.
‘I can’t get her. She’s not picking up.’
‘Do you want me to call Security in case something’s happened to her?’ Ben asked, but Jake shook his head, realising the futility of it as it started to sink in.
‘No point. She’s gone, Ben. She’s left us.’ He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s tangled, sweaty hair, his love for her overwhelming him. ‘It’s just you and me, Tils,’ he murmured, ‘but that’s OK, I’ll look after you. Daddy loves you. We’ll be OK.’ He kissed her again, and she burrowed tighter into him, her little legs tucked up against his side, arms tight around his neck.
‘You need to go home,’ Ben said softly.
‘How? I’m in the middle of a clinic, and it’s only Monday. What about the rest of the week? I can’t just walk out.’
‘Don’t worry about work, someone’ll do your clinic today and we’ll sort the rota out. Your daughter needs to come first. And I’ll get Security to locate and copy all the CCTV images of Jo from the time she arrived to the time she left. Just in case you need them for any reason in the future.’
He nodded, the implications of Jo’s actions beginning to sink in as anger took the place of shock. If she loved Matilda, as she’d said she did, then how could she just dump her like that, without talking to him first?
Because she knew he would have tried to talk her out of it. She’d been right about that. Right about him taking care of her, too, but how? How could he? He had a full-time job, with irregular hours and huge responsibilities. He couldn’t just drop everything. It wasn’t fair on his colleagues or his patients. And in any case, he had a mortgage to pay—assuming she hadn’t totally emptied his bank accounts and put him into overdraft right at the beginning of the month. Was that what she’d meant? Panic swamped him for a moment, but he fought it down.
At least Matilda was all right, but what if she hadn’t been? Jo had only left her with Ben because she’d recognised his name. If he hadn’t been there, would she still have left her? Anything could have happened to her. Someone could have taken her—
He felt a wave of nausea and swallowed hard. ‘Thank God you were here, Ben, but what if you hadn’t been? What if someone had taken her?’ he said, but Ben just shook his head.
‘Don’t go there, Jake. Just take her home,’ he said softly, so Jake took the key from him and put it on his keyring, then made a quick detour to pick up his things from his office before heading off to sort out the chaos his life had just become.
* * *
The following morning he went to her house, but it was empty apart from the landlord’s furniture and a small pile of Matilda’s things—her clothes, her toys and books, a few birthday cards and half a packet of nappies all stacked in the hall. Oh, and the landlord, who was delighted to see him.
‘She owes me two months’ rent,’ the man said bluntly. ‘I told her yesterday morning I’d call today to collect it, but she’s gone. That’s all that’s left, those things there of the little tot’s. I’m just waiting for a locksmith. Apparently she was seen leaving yesterday afternoon with the child and a man in a battered old campervan, and the neighbours said he’s been around a lot recently.’
Well, that fitted with what she’d said in her letter. Great. So not only had Jo dumped Matilda without warning, which was quite bad enough, she’d also defaulted on her rent—even though he paid her more than enough every month to cover that and her living expenses. And that was on top of her emptying his savings account yesterday morning—
‘So who are you, then?’ the landlord asked.
‘I’m Matilda’s father. I’m just here to get her stuff and I’m as much in the dark about where Jo is as you are.’
He folded his arms. ‘Well, someone’s got to pay the rent. I’ll let you off one month because I’ve got the deposit and there doesn’t seem to be any damage, but I want the rest.’
‘That’s fine, I’ll pay it,’ he said heavily. Frankly, a month’s rent was the least of his worries. Her ‘sorry about all the money’ had made him check his accounts last night and find she’d stripped his savings account—not that there had been much in it, but there was nothing now. She must have got his bank details from his phone when he’d seen her last week on Tilly’s birthday. That would teach him not to be so trusting.
Teach him a lot of things, but on the plus side she hadn’t emptied his current account which meant he had enough—just—to pay the landlord and get through the rest of the month. He should probably be thankful for small mercies, but he didn’t feel thankful. She’d no doubt sold the car as well. Well, he’d have to pay the outstanding rent, but that was it. He certainly wasn’t funding her travelling—or at least any more of it than he already inadvertently had, and he’d had to change all his passwords last night which was a real pain.
He put Matilda down and got out his phone to transfer the money to the landlord, and she toddled off, calling for her mother and looking puzzled.
‘Where Mummy?’
He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked her up again. ‘She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s had to go away so you’re going to come and live with me all the time now, and I’m not going anywhere,’ he said softly, propping her on the worktop while he dealt with the landlord, then he threw all the things Jo had left for Matilda into the bags he’d brought with him, scooped his daughter up again and walked out, seething with anger, disappointment, regret—a whole catalogue of conflicting emotions that had already kept him awake half the night.
Now all he had to do was talk to HR and work out how he was going to juggle his job and childcare commitments, but first he needed a friendly ear—and a shoulder to cry on?
No point in crying over spilt milk, even if it felt like Jo had dumped an entire dairy on his head. But the friendly ear he could definitely do with.
* * *
Emily was trying to stop Zach spreading banana everywhere when her phone rang for the second time in quick succession. She nearly didn’t answer it, but Zach had finished eating now, so she wiped her fingers and pulled the phone out of her pocket.
‘Jake, give me a second. I’m covered in banana.’
There was a muffled laugh from the other end, and she turned on the speaker and grabbed the wet wipe that Zach was stuffing in his mouth. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You have no idea how far he can spread it. So, how goes it?’
Another laugh, this time wry. ‘Not great. Look, I’m not far from you. Can I drop in and scrounge a coffee?’
‘Yeah, sure. Jake, are you OK?’
‘Not really. I’ll tell you in a minute. Stick the kettle on.’
‘Will do. Grab some milk, please? I’m almost out.’
‘OK. See you shortly.’
The phone went dead, and she stared at it, then shrugged and handed Zach a toy to play with while she cleared up the sitting room and worried about Jake.
He’d sounded odd. Sort of taut, like he was about to snap, which was so unlike him. He was always so easy-going, so relaxed and unfazed by anything. Chewing her lip, she plumped the cushions, scooped up the washing she’d been sorting, dumped it back in the basket and went back to tackle the kitchen.
She’d just finished loading the dishwasher when she heard him pull up, and she opened the front door as he got out of the car with a shopping bag in his hand. ‘That was quick,’ she began, but then she saw his expression and the words dried up in her throat.
He looked awful.
His face was a mask, the tension coming off him in waves, and she pulled him inside, put her arms around him and hugged him hard.
‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked softly, and she felt the sigh shudder through him.
‘Jo’s dumped Matilda with me—well, strictly speaking she left her in the hospital café—and she’s walked out of her life.’
Emily felt her jaw drop and she let him go and took a step back so she could read his eyes, and saw confusion and white-hot rage. ‘She what? How? Why?’
His shoulders jerked in a shrug. ‘Who knows? She’s gone travelling, of all things. She left me a note in the buggy apologising. She’s got a new man, apparently, and the landlord said they were picked up by some dude with a battered old campervan, so presumably that’s him. God knows what she’s done with the car I bought her. Sold it to fund the travelling, I expect, and she also owed rent that I had to pay, and cleaned out my savings account.’
‘That’s outrageous!’
‘Tell me about it, but that’s not what’s making me so mad. Don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m not thrilled, but it’s only money. It’s the fact that she just abandoned Matilda in the café that makes me so furious. Thank goodness Ben Walker was there. Apparently she saw his name badge and realised who he was, so she introduced herself and asked him to keep an eye on Tilly while she put a ticket on the car, and then she didn’t come back. What if he hadn’t been there, Em? Was she just going to rely on someone finding the envelope before something dreadful happened to her? What if she’d been abducted?’
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m so angry I don’t know where to start, but she said she couldn’t tell me because I’d talk her out of it and she knew this was the best thing for everyone. I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t take Matilda with her—oh, and the icing on the cake is she wants to keep in touch. Well, we’ll see about that,’ he added furiously, finally grinding to a halt.
‘Oh, Jake,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry. How is Matilda? Is she all right?’
Another shrug. ‘I suppose. A bit unsettled but she’s used to being with me so she’s not too bad—yet. How she’ll be down the line I have no idea. We’ve just come from the house and she was wandering round asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’
‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’
‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’
‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’
* * *
She took the coffee through to the sitting room where Jake was perched on the sofa staring at the floor, Matilda at his feet building a tower with stacking cups while Zach watched her intently.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, and Jake looked up and met her eyes, his own filled with a worry that he wasn’t even trying to disguise. At least the anger was gone, for now at least, but he just looked desperate and she wanted to hug him. She perched next to him and handed him his coffee and one of the gooey chocolate cookies instead.
‘That’s my second.’
‘Who’s counting? So, what are you going to do?’ she asked, keeping her voice to a low murmur, and he shrugged helplessly.
‘I don’t know. I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do. I’m on carer’s leave at the moment but that’s just crisis management and it can only be for a maximum of ten days, besides which we’re short-staffed as it is, and I don’t want to use the nursery. It seems wrong, when she’s just been abandoned by her mother. What if she thought I’d abandoned her, too? What if she hates it? And anyway, I work crazy hours. She’d practically have to live there, and what about nights when I’m on call? The only way round it is to find a full-time nanny, and they don’t grow on trees, and what the hell do I do in the meantime?’
‘I’ll come and stay,’ she said without a second thought, and it shocked him into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head, the hope that she’d seen in his troubled eyes replaced by despair.
‘No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not, I’m volunteering, and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me since Pete died, not to mention the rest of the last twenty years. It’ll get you out of a fix in the short term, give you time to think.’
‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve done nothing but think since yesterday afternoon. There isn’t an answer, Em, and this certainly isn’t it.’
‘No, not long term, of course it isn’t, but I’m still on maternity leave until the middle of June, I’m not doing anything else and how much harder can it be to look after two babies than one?’ she asked, lifting Zach up before he lunged at the plastic cups Matilda had carefully stacked and knocked them all down.
‘Matilda’s not a baby. She can be—’
‘A two-year-old?’ she asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed despairingly.
‘Yes. Exactly. And there are the practicalities, like I haven’t got a cot any longer because she’s in a bed.’
‘I’ve got a travel cot for Zach, and we can buy a double buggy from somewhere if we need to, so I can take them out. It’s not an issue, Jake, and it’s not as if we haven’t lived together before. We’re both house-trained. I’m sure we’ll survive. And you can get your life back on track and stop worrying about letting everyone down while you work out what to do next.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I want to. Please, let me help you.’
He held her eyes for the longest moment, then let out a defeated sigh and nodded. ‘OK. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end I wouldn’t let you do this, but if you’re really sure, it would be amazing. So—when are we talking about? Next week?’
She laughed. ‘I was thinking today? My fridge is all but empty, and it seems like a good time to do it.’
His mouth twitched into what could have been a smile. ‘I have to tell you my fridge isn’t a lot better, but I can soon fix that. I’ll take Matilda shopping and make the bed, and I’ll see you later, if you’re really sure?’
‘That again?’ She laughed, and he gave another crooked grin and hugged her with his free arm.
‘I love you, Em, you’re a star,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re such a good friend. I don’t know how to thank you.’
Her heart hitched. ‘You don’t need to grovel,’ she said lightly, but she wanted to curl up and cry, because he’d been amazing to her—more than a friend, really, more of a rock in her life, the only constant for the last twenty years, and especially since Pete’s terminal diagnosis.
He did love her, she knew that, and she loved him, too. He was the best friend anyone could have and she’d do anything to help him, but she realised this would help her, too, because it meant she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts from the moment Zach went down for the night to the moment he woke in the morning, and she was so sick of being alone...
‘You head on back, then, and I’ll pack our stuff and see you later—about five? Then I can give Zach supper before his bedtime so I don’t mess up his routine.’
‘Five’s fine. What does he eat?’
She laughed, her mood suddenly lighter for some reason. ‘I have no idea. It changes from minute to minute. I’ll bring stuff for him, I’ve got baby food and formula. It’s the only thing I have got. And you know me. I eat anything.’
* * *
She was early, of course.
He’d been expecting that. Em was always early. Always had been, unlike him, although he had a golden rule of never being late. Just on time.
So although he’d been shopping and made the bed, the house was still a bit chaotic because he’d brought in Matilda’s things and dumped them in the hall and they hadn’t got any further. On the plus side, he’d borrowed a double buggy and another high chair from Daisy Walker, his clinical lead’s wife, but on the downside they were in the hall as well.
She’d dropped them round on her way to pick up the older children from school, and she’d even given him a lesson in how to fold the buggy, most of which had gone clean over his head. He just hoped Emily could work it out, because he was damned if he could.
He moved it out of the way so she didn’t trip over it, opened the front door and was handed a baby.
‘Here, can you take him, I’ll empty the car,’ she said, and was only halfway down the path when Matilda tugged his jeans and frowned up at him.
‘Baby down,’ she said crossly. ‘My daddy.’
He crouched down with a soft, coaxing laugh. ‘Of course I’m your daddy, Tilly. I’m just holding Zach for Emily. Say hello to him.’
‘No.’ She turned her back on him, folded her arms and tilted her head. ‘I not.’
He stifled the smile and stood up, just as Emily came back with an armful of bags and the travel cot.
‘What’s up with her?’ she asked softly, and he rolled his eyes.
‘My daddy,’ he mouthed, and she bit her lip and shook her head.
‘Oops. Oh, well, she’ll get over it. And so will he,’ she said, taking Zach before he fell out of Jake’s arms leaning over trying to reach her.
‘Why don’t I empty the car?’ he suggested drily, and headed out of the door, leaving Matilda standing in the hall with Emily.
‘Daddy!’ she wailed, running after him, and he turned and caught her as she tripped on the step, lifting her up into his arms and holding her close as she sobbed against his neck.
His gut wrenched. ‘Hey, little one, I was only getting Emily’s things from the car,’ he said gently, stroking her hair. ‘Do you want to help me?’
She hiccupped and nodded, and he handed her a teddy that was falling out of the top of a bag, picked up the bag and Emily’s suitcase in his other hand and went back inside.
Em greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged. ‘As you said, they’ll get over it.’
He just hoped she was right, because right then none of them had a choice.
* * *
He came down from settling Matilda in bed and sorting out the travel cot to find Emily ensconced on the sofa, feeding Zach.
‘You’re still breastfeeding,’ he said gruffly, stating the obvious and floundering to a halt, the sudden wash of conflicting emotions taking him totally by surprise.
She looked up and smiled, her face tender and mellow in the light from the lamp, and his heart turned over. ‘He’s still only a baby. He isn’t ten months yet, and he’s going to be my only child, so I might as well carry on as long as he wants to. It’s only morning and evening, and it means so much to both of us.’
‘Hell, Em, you don’t have to justify it to me, I’m heartily in favour of you doing what nature intended, but you’d talked about formula milk so I was just surprised,’ he said lightly, trying to ignore his crazy reaction.
Since when had breastfeeding been erotic?
‘I’m going to put our food on. Cup of tea while it cooks?’
‘Please—decaf if you’ve got it?’
‘Of course. I have enough trouble sleeping without chucking caffeine into the mix.’
‘Do you need a hand?’
‘No, you’re all right. You stay there with Zach.’
He headed for the kitchen, trying to work out what was going on in his head. He knew what was going on in his body, and it was entirely inappropriate and out of order.
Didn’t stop it, though.
He turned on the oven, put the kettle on, braced his hands on the edge of the worktop and let his head drop.
He did not need this—this sudden and unexpected and unwelcome complication to a situation that was already complicated beyond belief. She was a widow, a vulnerable woman with a young child, putting herself out to help him. The last thing—absolutely the last thing—she needed was him turning weird on her. Protective he could cope with. Lust—no. Absolutely not.
He thrust himself away from the worktop, put the supermarket ready meal into the oven, then prepped the veg.
Not that opening a tray of pre-prepared sugar snap peas, baby corn and tenderstem broccoli took much prepping, but anything rather than go back in there while she was still feeding Zach. And that in itself was ridiculous. He spent his life surrounded by women in various stages of undress, was thoroughly familiar with their most intimate anatomy, saw new mothers breastfeeding on a daily basis. So why was he reacting like this now, and why with Emily, of all people in the world?
And there was no way—no way!—he was letting himself answer that question! It was a whole other can of worms, and he needed to get a grip. He wasn’t an adolescent exploring and exploiting his emerging sexuality, he was an adult, more than twice the age he’d been when he’d first met Emily. Surely to goodness he’d developed a little self-control and discretion in all that time?
Not to mention common decency.
With a low growl, he pulled two mugs from the cupboard, made the tea and went back in, studiously avoiding looking anywhere near her chest. Not that he could see anything, anyway. She was being incredibly discreet and she’d obviously got it down to a fine art—
‘I think there must be some kind of narcotic in breastmilk,’ she said with a smile that sent his resolutions into a tailspin. ‘It’s like he’s drugged, he’s so heavily asleep.’
He hauled his eyes off the sliver of smooth, pale skin he could see above the baby’s downy head as she tugged her top down. ‘Will you be able to sneak him into his cot, or will he wake up the minute you let go of him?’
She gave a wry laugh. ‘I’m guessing that was Matilda?’
‘Yup. Every time.’
‘Zach’s usually all right. I might go and try if you don’t think I’ll wake her?’
‘No, she should be fine. Go for it. The travel cot’s ready.’
She unravelled her legs and stood up gracefully, and he gritted his teeth and dragged his eyes off the smoothly rounded curve of her bottom as she headed through the door.
What the hell was going on with him?
He picked up his tea, cradled the mug in his hands and blew the steam away crossly.
He was better than this. If ever a woman was off limits, it was Emily, and especially now. He knew that. It was just getting his body to listen that was the difficult bit, and right now it seemed to have gone stone deaf.
CHAPTER TWO (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
JAKE WAS HUNCHED over his tea when she went back to the sitting room. He looked deep in thought, and the thoughts didn’t look happy from where she was standing.
‘Thanks for getting the travel cot ready for me, he’s gone down like a dream,’ she said, and he glanced up at her, his eyes unreadable.
‘You’re welcome. I didn’t know if you’d still want him in your room, but I thought it was better to be on the safe side as it’s a strange place. We can always move him, I’m not short of bedrooms.’
‘No, it’s fine. I keep meaning to move him out, but—I don’t know. I quite like knowing there’s someone else there with me. It wards off the self-pity a bit.’
She knew her smile was wry, and his eyes locked with hers searchingly.
‘Don’t you mean grief?’ he asked her, his voice gentle, and she shrugged.
‘Same thing, really, isn’t it? I miss Pete, but he doesn’t miss me, he can’t, and I’m sure he wouldn’t miss the pain he was in, or the dread of what was to come, or the worry about how we were going to cope without him. He’s spared all that now. It’s those left behind who have to pick up their lives and carry on, so in many ways grief is just a selfish emotion.’
‘Or an acknowledgement of the person he was, and the part he played in your life. It’s OK to grieve, Emily.’
She smiled. ‘I know, but I’ve done that. I did most of my grieving while he was still alive, because to be honest I never really dared to let myself believe he was cured when they gave him the all-clear, so when it metastasised there was a sort of horrible inevitability about it all. I think I always knew it was coming, and now it’s just juggling the things that need to be done with the lack of support and practical help. Things like cutting the hedge and putting up shelves in Zach’s room and all the other stuff that he used to do that I’m rubbish at.’
‘I’ve offered to help,’ he reminded her, but she didn’t need reminding. She dropped onto the sofa beside him, tucked her arm in his and squeezed it firmly.
‘And you have helped. You’ll never know how much you’ve helped me, Jake. I wouldn’t have got through it without you, but I need to toughen up now and get a grip. Time to return the favour, and I’m really sorry it’s because of Jo doing a runner and turning your life upside down, but I’m here, I’m not going to run out on you, and I’ll stay until you don’t need me anymore.’
She held his eyes for an age, but then something flashed through them and he turned away, as if he couldn’t look at her any longer, and shook his head.
‘I can’t ask that of you,’ he said gruffly.
‘Yes, you can—and by the way I rescued the supper. There was an interesting smell coming from the kitchen so I turned off the oven and opened the door a bit.’
He swore and leapt to his feet, and she followed him into the kitchen as he whipped open the oven door and stared into it.
‘Is it OK?’
He pulled the dish out and inspected it. ‘Debatable.’
He put it onto the hob and prodded at it with a fork, and she chuckled softly and peered over his shoulder at the bits of singed pasta sticking up out of a rather dark golden crust.
‘Will we live?’
He grunted. ‘Just about. There are one or two bits that might need ditching, but it won’t kill us.’
She tutted. ‘You’re a slow learner, Stratton. I taught you to use an oven timer twenty years ago. I would have thought you’d mastered it by now.’
He gave a low chuckle, and she slid her arms around him and rested her head against his broad, solid shoulders that were curiously comforting. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Jake. I meant what I said, I don’t know how I would have coped without you.’
She straightened up and slackened her arms, and he turned in them and gave her a brief hug, then reached for the kettle.
‘You’re welcome. Now go and drink your tea and put your feet up,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ve got to steam the veg but that won’t take long. I’ll call you when it’s ready.’
‘Don’t forget to time it,’ she said with a cheeky little wink designed to needle him, and took herself out of range before he threw something at her.
* * *
He watched her go, the feel of her still imprinted on his body, front and back, then he closed his eyes and swore softly and comprehensively under his breath.
What was wrong with him?
He plonked the pan on the hob, poured boiling water into the steamer under the veg and laid the table, then stuck his head round the door. ‘It’s ready.’
‘Good, I’m starving. So—what is this?’ she asked, poking at the slightly over-browned crust as she sat down at the table.
‘Chicken, tomato and mascarpone pasta bake. And yes, I timed the veg,’ he growled.
‘Wonders will never cease,’ she mocked, rolling her eyes, then stuck a forkful of the pasta bake in her mouth and moaned. ‘Oh, that’s really tasty. Good job I caught it in time.’
He opened his mouth to reply, and she raised both hands, her lips twitching at the corners, and he gave a soft huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. ‘Why don’t you just shut up and eat it before it’s cold?’ he said drily, and she smiled, stuck her fork into her food and then looked up at him again, her eyes almost luminous, her voice wistful.
‘You know, it’s really nice having someone to eat with, especially someone I can have a conversation with.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Zach doesn’t talk to you?’
It got a laugh out of her, although it was just a little one. ‘You know what I mean. I love him to bits, but it’s not the same as sharing a meal with an adult. It’s a long while since I’ve done that, and even longer since someone cooked for me. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said softly, grateful for the timely reminder that she’d only lost her husband less than eighteen months ago. Dragging his eyes off hers, he turned his attention firmly back to the food.
* * *
‘What time do you start tomorrow?’ she asked as he cleared the plates.
‘Seven. I need to leave at quarter to.’
‘So—will you see Matilda before you go? Does she know you’re not going to be here all day?’
He sighed and propped his hands on the worktop, defeat in every line of his body.
‘Not yet. I was going to tell her in the morning. I didn’t want her worrying all night.’ He straightened up and turned back to face her. ‘Do you think that’s the wrong thing to have done?’
She shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I have to admit to being wildly out of my depth here, but I would imagine that the loss of her mother is going to affect her. She’ll be missing her presence, the familiar surroundings—although she’s used to you and to being here, so that’s not an issue, but she doesn’t know me very well, she’s only met me a handful of times, and then there’s Zach. She wasn’t exactly overjoyed to see him and she probably won’t be thrilled at being left alone with us.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘No. I’m sure you’re right. Damn, this isn’t going to work, is it? It’s too much to expect of either of you. I should never have asked—’
‘You didn’t, but you didn’t really have a choice and we’ve already had this conversation. If you want to do something useful, you could shut up and put the kettle on. I could murder another drink before I go to bed.’
He gave a soft huff of laughter, walked over to her, pulled her to her feet and hugged her hard.
‘Thank you for helping me out, Em,’ he murmured, his head resting against hers. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re such a good woman, and the best friend I could ever ask for. I don’t know how to thank you.’
She hugged him back, suddenly and shockingly aware of him, of the blatant masculinity she’d made a life’s work of ignoring. ‘Ditto. Except you’re not a woman, obviously, but whatever.’
He laughed, and his arms dropped and he turned away.
‘So, having cleared that up, tea or coffee?’ he asked lightly, picking up the kettle, and she felt a tension ease that she hadn’t even known was there.
* * *
He was right, it wasn’t going to work.
Jake had only been out of the house half an hour and Emily was already at her wit’s end.
Matilda hated her. Or, more exactly, hated not having her father there and not having Emily’s undivided attention, either. Which meant she also hated Zach. No surprises there, then.
‘Come on, Matilda, let’s go downstairs and get some breakfast,’ she coaxed. ‘Shall we see what Daddy’s got in the cupboards?’
‘Want toast,’ she said, after Emily had finally persuaded her to come down, so she put Zach in the nearest high chair and Matilda promptly burst into tears and tugged Zach’s arm hard.
‘My chair,’ she sobbed, so Emily lifted the now crying baby out of the way and hooked over the other high chair, only of course he didn’t want to go in it now, arching his back and screaming.
Stifling a scream of her own, Emily jiggled him on her hip, found the sliced bread that she assumed Jake had got for Matilda, put two slices in because Zach would be happy with toast, too, and then tried again with the high chair once he’d calmed down.
‘There you go, baby. You stay there now, while Mummy gets your toast.’
‘You not Mummy,’ Matilda piped up, her voice wobbling.
Oh, lord. ‘I’m Zach’s mummy,’ she told her, but she was starting to recognise that mulish look that meant Matilda wasn’t having any of it. She crouched down to Matilda’s level and reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked it back out of reach, her lip quivering.
‘Not my mummy. Go ’way. Want Daddy.’
‘Daddy’s had to go to work, sweetheart. He’ll be back later, you know that, he told you he would.’
‘Want Daddy now,’ she demanded, folding her arms emphatically in a curiously adult gesture that nearly made Emily laugh.
She stifled the urge. ‘Darling, I’m sure he’d much rather be here with you, but he’s had to go to work at the hospital. There are lots of mummies there with tiny babies, and he’s got to look after them, but he’ll come home when he’s finished for the day, and he’ll be back in time to put you to bed, you’ll see.’
The toast popped up, and she crossed her fingers behind her back, straightened up and put the toast, the butter and some plates on the table then lifted Matilda into the other high chair. Her high chair.
‘Don’t want toast,’ Matilda said, folding her arms again, but the defiant little gesture wasn’t funny anymore.
None of it was funny. It was exasperating, worrying, and nothing to do with toast. It was all about controlling a situation that Matilda had been thrown into by her mother’s sudden disappearance, and all Emily could do was damage limitation. And not having breakfast wasn’t going to damage the little girl.
‘OK,’ she said easily. ‘You don’t have to have breakfast today if you don’t want to. I can eat your toast.’
She ignored Matilda for a few moments, buttering the first slice, cutting it into fingers, handing one to Zach who grabbed it with both hands and stuffed it into his mouth.
‘Mmm, yum-yum,’ she said, but Matilda just folded her arms more firmly and stropped a bit more, and Emily let her, pretty sure hunger would cut in before any harm was done.
‘Want honey on it,’ Matilda said, caving in as Emily handed Zach a second finger of toast and buttered the other slice.
‘OK. I’ll see if I can find any.’
Please, please don’t have run out and not replaced it.
There was a smear at the bottom of the jar, but—hallelujah!—a new, unopened one behind it. She twisted off the lid, dug the knife into the smooth, unblemished surface and made a wish.
No prizes for guessing what her wish was going to be, but she smeared honey on the toast, cut it into fingers like Zach’s and slid it across to Matilda.
‘Say thank you,’ she said, sure that Jake would have taught her that even if her mother hadn’t, and maybe her fairy godmother was watching over them because Matilda stuffed the first bite into her mouth and mumbled, ‘’Ank you,’ around it.
Round one to her? She certainly hoped so.
* * *
The phone rang for ages before Em answered it, and Jake was starting to worry when she eventually picked up.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked without preamble.
He heard a sigh, then a little laugh that did nothing to reassure him. ‘OK, I guess. I put Zach in the wrong high chair.’
He winced. ‘Oops. I bet that was fun. She can be such a drama queen, and she’s territorial at the best of times. You might be better taking them out, if you feel you can cope. It’s a lovely day, the fresh air’ll do them good.’
‘Great minds,’ she said with a tired chuckle. ‘I thought maybe a walk? Feed the ducks, if there are any ducks to feed?’
‘There are—there’s a little park not far away. If you turn right onto the street and walk along to the end and cross over, there’s an entrance to your left. It’s got a lovely little playground, too, as well as the duck pond, and she likes it there.’
‘OK. I’ll give it a whirl and see how I get on. I can take the double buggy since you’ve got it. At least that’s neutral territory.’
‘Ah, rats! I meant to show you how it folds and unfolds, but to be honest I’m damned if I can remember. I’ll text you Daisy’s number so you can ring her if you can’t work it out. She’ll tell you.’
He heard her laugh, but it sounded a little off kilter and he guessed her day was turning out tougher than she’d expected.
‘It’s a buggy, Jake,’ she said with exaggerated patience. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine. How’s work going?’
‘Busy. They’re very glad to have me back. Ben said to thank you for stepping in to help.’
She laughed. ‘Tell Ben I’m not doing it for him, but happy to oblige. Oops, gotta go, Zach’s in the fireplace.’
He heard a clatter and a howl before the phone cut off, and he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to imagine what might have happened. The fire tongs and poker were his most likely guess. Oh, well. Hopefully he’d just had a fright. And as for Tilly—
‘Mr Stratton, have you got a moment?’
Tilly would be fine. He slid his phone back into his pocket and went back to work, putting Emily and the children firmly out of his mind.
* * *
Three days and a thousand small obstacles later, it was obvious to both of them that Matilda needed much more of her father than she was getting. And probably less of her, Emily thought despairingly.
It all came to a head late on Friday evening, when he’d been caught up in Theatre with a tricky post-partum haemorrhage and Matilda refused to go to bed until he got home, despite all Emily’s best efforts. She wouldn’t even let her change her nappy and put her in pyjamas. She just sat on the landing and cried.
‘Want Daddy,’ she sobbed, so Emily took her downstairs to the sitting room so they could wait for him, but she was inconsolable. She didn’t want a story, she shied away from cuddles, and by the time he came home at nine Emily was on the point of phoning him.
They were in the hall by now, Matilda prostrate on the floor and still sobbing, and the moment he was through the door she scrambled up and clung to his legs, and the anguish in his eyes was awful to see.
He scooped her up, hugging her close and rocking her, and Emily went into the kitchen and left them to it, because she was sure her presence wasn’t helping. She’d been at her wit’s end all day, and seeing the little girl so distraught had been horrible, but he was home now and maybe he could calm her down.
Was it her fault? Maybe. She’d done her best to handle an impossibly difficult situation, but Matilda was only two, her mother had deserted her—how was the poor little mite supposed to react? She was just upset, but it was so hard to deal with and it was upsetting Zach, too.
It wasn’t doing a lot for her, either. She sniffed hard, swiped away the tears she hadn’t realised she’d shed and yanked open the fridge door. She’d been trying all day to find time to cook, but every time she did anything there was another incident with Tilly.
She’d bitten Zach, she’d pushed him over, she’d gone into the study and pulled all the books off the shelf—
The crying had stopped—finally—and she heard Jake’s quiet tread on the stairs as he carried her up to bed. Not that she expected it to work.
Why on earth had she volunteered to do this? It wasn’t helping anyone, especially not Matilda. Was it her fault? She didn’t know enough about Tilly—had she inadvertently upset her by doing something wrong, something Jake would never have done? How was she supposed to know?
And then there was Jake himself, her friend, the person she was helping out—or trying to, but this close proximity was stirring up feelings that had been dormant for years. She was suddenly so aware of him, of his physical presence and blindingly obvious sex appeal, but this was Jake, for goodness’ sake! She’d known him for years, he hadn’t changed, so why now? Was it just her sexuality reawakening after all this time, and if so, why pick on Jake, of all people?
She slashed at an onion, and then dropped the knife with a yelp and squeezed her finger hard. Blood leaked out and ran down her hand, and she went over to the sink, turned on the tap, stuck her finger under it and gave in to the tears that had been threatening all day.
* * *
‘Em?’
She was standing at the sink with her back to him, holding something under the running tap, and he went up behind her and squeezed her shoulders gently.
‘I’m sorry, Em. This is all my fault. I should never have agreed to you doing this—’
‘Rubbish. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s her mother’s fault. She’s a little girl—how could she just leave her? Of course she’s upset. Don’t blame yourself.’
‘That’s easy to say, but I do. Everything I do upsets her. I should be able to comfort her, but she doesn’t want me, she wants you, or her mother. And she just won’t let me comfort her. She hates me, and she hates Zach, and it’s just not working—’
He leant in closer, and then saw blood all over the sink and reached past her and turned off the tap. ‘Em, what’ve you done?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she said, and he let out a sigh, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round.
‘Let me see,’ he said gently, taking a handful of kitchen roll and resting her hand in it. ‘Let go?’
She released the pressure, and blood welled rapidly in the wound before she pressed it again with her thumb.
‘OK. Well, at least it’s a nice clean cut, not too deep, and it won’t need stitches. Just a firm dressing and it should be fine.’
She nodded, and something wet dripped on his hand. He tilted her face up and shook his head. Tears?
‘Oh, Em, don’t cry,’ he pleaded softly. ‘I don’t need two of you doing it, and Matilda’s fine now, she was just exhausted. She’s gone out like a light.’
‘She’s been crying for ages. She wouldn’t go to bed without you, I couldn’t even change her, I couldn’t do anything—’
‘Oh, Emily. Come here.’ He pulled her in against him with one arm, the other hand cradling her wounded hand in its nest of bloodied kitchen towel. He could deal with that later, he’d had far worse to worry about today, and so had she. For now, all she needed was a hug, and she turned her head into his shoulder, gave a ragged little sob and slumped against him.
It was the first time he’d seen her cry since Pete’s terminal diagnosis, when she’d just discovered she was pregnant. She hadn’t even cried at his funeral, and it was so unlike her that it gave him a real and unwelcome insight into just how bad her day must have been with the children, and he was swamped with guilt.
‘I’m sorry,’ he sighed. ‘You’re right, this isn’t working. I’ll phone Ben and tell him I can’t do it anymore. I’ll have to find another way until she’s more settled.’
‘Such as what?’ she asked, pushing herself away and swiping roughly at the tears. ‘Put her in nursery? That won’t be any better. It was just a bad day, Jake. Anyway, it’s the weekend now and you’ll be at home. Maybe that’ll help her to get used to me, to the whole situation. She just needs time to adjust.’
‘I can see that, but I’m worried about now, before she’s adjusted, if she ever does. It sounds as though today was awful for all of you, and what happens if it’s still as bad on Monday, or the day after, or the week after that? I can’t ask this of you, or Matilda. She obviously needs much more time with me than she’s getting.’
‘She does, and Zach needs me, too, but you have to work, Jake. There’s no way round it. Life costs money and something’s got to give. We all have to compromise. We just have to find a compromise that works, and in two months’ time I’m going to be in the same boat and I have no idea what I’m going to do either.’
He pressed his lips together, let out a sharp sigh and let go of her hand. ‘Here, let me dress that, then we’ll order a takeaway and sit down and talk about this calmly.’
* * *
Half an hour later her finger was dressed, she had a glass of a nicely chilled Aussie white in her hand and they were sitting down to a selection of steaming takeaway cartons, the contents mostly chosen because they were fork food.
And now she’d finally stopped wallowing in guilt and self-pity and re-engaged her brain, apparently it had come up with a brilliant idea. Now she just had to sell it to him.
‘So, I might have a solution,’ she said.
He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and gave her a sceptical look. ‘There isn’t a solution.’
‘There could be, if you’d consider a job share.’
He put the fork back down and stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘Who with? And anyway, that doesn’t help with the nights and weekends. It wouldn’t work.’
‘It might,’ she said slowly, suddenly desperate to convince him, ‘if it was with me and we shared the childcare.’
There was a second of silence while he absorbed it, then he shook his head. ‘No. I couldn’t ask you to do that, Em, especially after today. It’s not fair on you or Zach and you’ve got enough on your plate without taking us on. What I really need is a nanny, but it’ll take time to find one and I don’t have time. You’re right, she wouldn’t have been any better in a nursery. Probably worse, in fact, because she wouldn’t have been in familiar surroundings. She’s just testing you.’
‘Well, she certainly did that, but she doesn’t need me to tell her where the boundaries are, she needs you.’
‘She needs consistency, but that isn’t the point. The point is it upset you, and it’s too much to ask of you when you’ve got your own problems—and anyway, there’s no way we could job share, you live too far away.’
‘Not if I move in here,’ she said, and held her breath.
His eyes widened in surprise, and she could almost hear the cogs turning. ‘Here?’
‘Yes, here,’ she said, gesturing around her at the huge kitchen dining room that ran from front to back in his double-fronted Victorian semi. ‘Your house is massive, Jake. There’s tons of room.’
‘Em, it’s a heap. I only bought it because I thought it would make a fantastic family home, but then Jo changed her mind and I ended up running two households, so I haven’t had the money to sort it out. It’s just a millstone round my neck and if it wasn’t such a wreck I’d sell it.’
‘Rubbish, it’s a fabulous house, a fantastic family home, as you said. It just needs a lick of paint.’
He sighed. ‘It needs much more than that. It’s just tired from one end to the other. I was going to put an en suite next to the main bedroom, refit the bathroom, refit the kitchen, change the carpets, repair the roof—at the very least the whole house needs a coat of paint, and then there’s the garden which has been neglected for years—it’s endless.’
‘That’s cosmetic,’ she pointed out. ‘There’s a downstairs shower room. I could use that. And you have five bedrooms, so even if we take two, you’ll still have a spare for visitors. And there’s your study, which is big enough to be another sitting room, so we don’t even have to share that if you don’t want to.’
His brow furrowed, the worry evident in his eyes. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to share with you, Em, that’s not an issue, we were housemates for years, but we’re not at uni anymore. We’re adults, parents, and anyway, you don’t want to leave your house. You shared it with Pete for so many years, you can’t walk away from that just to help me out. You’d be giving up so much.’
She would, but she wouldn’t let herself think about that. Not now. Pete was gone, but Jake was very much alive, and he needed her. And she needed a job.
‘It’s just a house,’ she lied, ‘and believe me, my motives for suggesting it aren’t entirely selfless. I need a job as much as you do, but the reality is we both need cover for nights and weekends and random shift patterns, and that’s going to be really difficult to manage without live-in help, but if we lived here together that would solve it, and it would also mean taking a cut in salary was more viable for both of us because we’d be paying out much less in childcare and only be running one household. And it needn’t be for ever. A couple of years, maybe a little more? Five, even, and who knows where we’ll be by then? You might have met someone you want to marry, someone you love, someone who loves Matilda. But for now, it would solve both our problems. We could make it work, Jake.’
He stared at her for the longest moment, hope flaring in his eyes, and then he dug around on his plate with his fork, moved the food around, then looked back at her again searchingly.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, I am. Why not? I want a part-time job with consultant pay, and you think nannies don’t grow on trees? I’ve networked my butt off the last couple of months and there’s not a glimmer of part time or a job share anywhere in our field at the level we’re at. Well, there’s a staff grade post in Cumbria, but that’s miles from everyone I know and miles from Pete’s parents, and they have a right to share in Zach’s life. They’ve already lost their son. I can’t take their grandson to the other end of the country, it’s not fair. And in the meantime I have to earn a living and make appropriate care arrangements for my child, and so do you. Think about it, Jake. You’d be working part time, so you’d have time with Matilda, I’d have time with Zach, we’d both be working at consultant level—it’s a win-win.’
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and searched her eyes again. Goodness knows what he was looking for, but she didn’t think he’d found it because he shrugged and looked away and his eyes were bleak again, the flicker of hope she’d seen in them extinguished by defeat.
‘I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, for both of us, and we can’t make a snap decision. Come on, let’s eat this while it’s still hot. I’m starving and I didn’t get time for lunch and I can’t think clearly on an empty stomach.’
She reached out and laid a hand on his, suddenly afraid he was going to spend the rest of the night finding reasons why it couldn’t work, and for some reason she didn’t really understand she was desperate that he shouldn’t do that. ‘Just don’t dismiss it, Jake. Don’t close your mind to it. Promise me you’ll give it serious consideration.’
He nodded slowly. ‘OK. I promise. Right, food. Do you want the last of that rice, or can I have it?’
* * *
Jake stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the cracks in the Victorian plasterwork, seeking out the peeling paper at the edge by the window where the roof had leaked last year. How could he ask Em to give up her lovely home and share this place with him and Matilda? Never mind the job thing...
Enough. He needed to sleep. He turned out the light and rolled onto his side, bashing his pillow into submission, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and his mind was still churning, struggling with the concept of a job share with Em.
Could they do it? Would it work? Or would it put such an unreasonable strain on their relationship that it would destroy it? Because it wouldn’t just mean sharing the job. He’d be sharing his home, his child, his entire life with Emily. Could they honestly make it work?
He didn’t know, but sleep evaded him and he lay awake for hours turning it over and over in his mind without coming up with anything better—or anything else at all.
He knew they could live together, they were already doing it, and they were coping, even if he did spend hours every day slamming the door on his lust. They’d squabble about stuff and she’d complain about his untidiness, but there was no malice in it. But was it fair on Emily to ask her to leave the home she’d shared with Pete?
No, but then the whole situation was unfair. It wasn’t fair that Pete had died and left Emily widowed and Zach without a father. It wasn’t fair that Jo had walked out first on him and then on Matilda, and almost bled him dry in the process.
None of it was fair and they had no choice but to deal with the hand life had dealt them, but the children weren’t coping, and that was the root of the problem. Matilda didn’t really know Emily. How was she feeling being left with her every day? Not great, if today was anything to go by, but would Zach fare any better when it was the other way round? And how would he feel, looking after Zach? Looking after his own daughter, come to that?
He’d never anticipated being a full-time father, but it was just an extension of what he’d already been doing, with Zach chucked into the mix for good measure.
Could they manage to make it work, juggling the childcare between them? It was an awesome responsibility. Was he up to it? Was Emily?
He had no idea, but short of finding a nanny in the next few days he was out of options. It had to work, they had to make it work, and the first thing he was going to do tomorrow was run the idea past Ben Walker, and see what he thought of it.
He wasn’t even going to consider what he’d do if Ben said no.
CHAPTER THREE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
BEN DIDN’T SAY NO—well, not a flat-out no, at any rate, and maybe even tending towards a yes.
He was on call that weekend and already at the hospital when Jake sent him a text at six-thirty saying he needed to talk. He rang straight back, and didn’t turn a hair when Jake suggested they meet on the benches outside the Park Café before eight on a dewy April morning. He didn’t even mind that Matilda was with him, sitting on the damp bench between them eating a little muffin from the café for her breakfast. He listened carefully without interrupting until Jake ground to a halt, then pulled a sort of ‘maybe’ face and nodded slowly.
‘Would you consider taking on a bit more? Because we could really do with a female consultant, but we also need more consultant time in general and getting someone for just one or two days a week is impossible. If you could manage another two or three sessions between you and a share of weekend and night cover, the Trust might look on it very favourably, especially if I lean on them,’ he added with a grin. ‘You’d end up overlapping for a day, but you’d probably want to anyway for continuity. The only real difficulty I can see is the night cover when you’re on call. How will you deal with that?’
‘No problem. We’ll be living together, which makes us much more flexible.’
Ben frowned, his face concerned. ‘When you say living together...?’
‘Not like that, we’re just friends,’ he said hastily.
Ben’s eyebrow quirked sceptically. ‘You’d have to be very good friends to make that work. Are you sure you know each other well enough? It’s a lot to take on, Jake, and if this job share relies on your domestic situation and it breaks down—’
‘It won’t break down,’ he said firmly. ‘We’ve house-shared before. I’ve known her for over twenty years and I can’t think of anyone else I’d contemplate doing it with. Let’s face it, we both have a very strong vested interest in making it work. And if it really got on our nerves, we could divide the house into two flats. Heaven knows it’s big enough.’
‘Well, that’s true,’ Ben said with a wry smile. ‘And how long are you thinking this would last? A year? Two? Ten? Because there are implications for your future, for your pension, for your career progression. It’s not trivial.’
‘I know. I realise that, so does Emily, but to be frank, Ben, we’d don’t have a lot of options and this is far and away the best idea we’ve come up with for either of us. Can I talk to her about the extra sessions and come back to you?’
‘Of course. What sort of start date were you thinking of?’
‘As soon as possible. I can’t mess about like this for ever, it’s not fair on you or Matilda or my patients, and Em needs an answer, too, because she’s coming to the end of her mat leave and she needs to get a job sorted soon.’
Ben gave a wry smile. ‘Good, because juggling the rota is frying my brains. Look, go and talk to her and let me know what she thinks. Obviously you’ll have to jump through all the official hoops, but nobody’s in the business of making this any more complicated than it has to be and if you want to go ahead I’ll do everything I can.’
He nodded. ‘And until then? Because yesterday was a really tough day for Emily and the kids, but I’m so conscious of letting you down if I take more time off and I’m just torn in two.’
‘Of course you are,’ Ben said quietly. ‘Anyone would be, and I do understand, but don’t worry about it. We all need this sorted out one way or another very quickly, but I’m sure it can be done, subject of course to interview and your joint proposal ticking all the necessary boxes. We’d need to be sure it would work before we could agree to it.’
He closed his eyes briefly, felt some of the tension leak away and gave a quiet laugh. ‘Of course. And thanks for being so reasonable. I’m really sorry about this.’
‘Don’t be. Stuff happens, Jake, it’s all part of life’s rich pattern. The trick is to learn to roll with the punches. Go on, take Matilda home, talk to Emily and get back to me.’
* * *
Her phone rang while she was swiping porridge from every accessible part of Zach’s high chair.
Jake. Of course.
‘You have a gift for calling me when I’m covered in gloop,’ she said drily. ‘How did it go?’
‘Well, I think. He’s going to talk to the Trust. We’re just on our way home. I’ll tell you more then.’
So it could be happening. She put the phone down and carried on wet-wiping, a funny little hitch in her chest. And not in a good way.
Ridiculous, because she had to work, she wanted to work, and this whole thing had been her idea, so from that point of view it was good, but he’d been right about her house. She already missed it, missed having her familiar things around her like a security blanket, even if she’d denied it yesterday. It wasn’t for ever, though, just until the children were a little older so they could go into full-time childcare without being irreparably damaged.
And that time would come. She couldn’t imagine Jake wanting to work part time for ever. He was too much of a career doctor to want to take a back seat, and then she could go back to her own house, or sell it and move on. There was no hurry now, though. She could let the house in the meantime and see how it went. She didn’t have to sell it and burn all her boats.
Not yet.
* * *
They took the children to the park and pushed them side by side in the baby swings while she listened to what Ben had said.
‘There’s a lot of official stuff. We’ll have to submit a joint application for the job share, outlining how we’d split the workload, and we’d both have to be interviewed so they can be sure we’ve thought it through, but in the meantime Ben’s going to run it by them because it’s an opportunity to gain a few more sessions of consultant cover each week, so actually he’s really on board with it, especially as you’re a woman. And it means we’d both earn more if we did the extra hours. Would you be up for that?’
‘Yes, I don’t see why not. It all sounds really positive,’ she said. ‘And in the meantime I can look after the children so you can get back to work at least most of the time, and we’ll just have to rub along somehow. It’ll give them time to settle into a routine, and you’ll know Tilly’s safe even if she’s not overjoyed with the situation.’
‘And if the Trust says no?’
She shrugged. ‘Then I’ll have to look for another job or go back to my old one, and you’ll have to put Tilly into childcare, but let’s just hope it doesn’t happen.’
There was a long silence, punctuated by the creak of the swings, and then he said, ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to do this, Em? Because I don’t want to set this all up and then you change your mind because it’s too big a commitment or you want your own space back—or even your old job, because it’ll be gone, so it has massive implications, especially for you. If we can do this, it’ll be great, but I want you to be absolutely sure before it goes any further because there’s no way back to where we are now, for either of us.’
She met his eyes, read the conflicting emotions of hope and concern, and shut the lid on her doubts.
‘I am sure,’ she said, to convince herself as much as him. She owed Jake so much, and if she could do this for him and make it work, it would go at least some way towards repaying him. She wouldn’t even think about failing, because it wasn’t an option. It couldn’t be.
His eyes held hers. ‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ she said, her voice firmer now. ‘If the Trust says yes, I’ll move in with you properly and let my house, but in the meantime Zach will have a chance to get used to you before I need to leave him. Don’t worry, Jake. We’ll get there.’
‘We could split the house, if you’d rather. It’s easy with the bathrooms, I’ll just use the shower room, but if you want your own floor, or a separate sitting room—’
‘I don’t. If you do, just say the word and we can sort it out, but as I’ve told you, I like the company.’ She smiled at him. ‘And sure, you’ve got a few irritating habits, but I’ll just have to turn a blind eye to those.’
‘Irritating habits?’
His voice was indignant, but his eyes were smiling, and she stretched up and kissed his cheek and felt it dimple under her lips. He smelt of soap and Jake with a hint of chocolate muffin, and there was something vaguely disturbing about it.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll soon get you trained,’ she quipped, and gave Zach’s swing another little push while she tried to work out why her heart was beating just that little bit faster.
* * *
He downloaded the job-share protocol and applications forms from the Trust intranet once the children were in bed, and after they’d finished eating they sat at the dining table scrolling through all the endless pages.
‘I hate this kind of stuff,’ he muttered, as if she was having such a great time.
‘Whereas I just love it,’ she mocked, rolling her eyes. ‘Do you have a copy of your timetable?’
‘Yeah, I’ll print it and we can squabble over who does what. And don’t even think about dumping me with all the routine gynae.’
‘It says in the protocol—’ she began, but he threw a pen at her and disappeared to the study, leaving her grinning. She’d forgotten what fun he was to be around, even when he was grumpy. Forgotten what fun was, even, but her enduring memory of their time at uni had been laughter, and Jake had been at the centre of that, always.
It seemed so long ago now...
She was just reading through Points to consider when becoming a job-sharer when he came back, dropped three copies of the timetable and a packet of highlighter pens down in front of her and opened the fridge.
‘This calls for wine,’ he said, and sat down again with two glasses, the bottle they’d started last night and a giant packet of hand-fried crisps.
‘Right. Let’s do this.’
* * *
Three hours, the entire packet of crisps and most of the bottle of wine later, they’d thrashed out a workable timetable that gave both of them what they wanted, shared out the tasks equally and wouldn’t let any of the patients down, and they’d built in capacity for another three sessions.
He sat back, let his breath out in a whoosh and gave her a high five.
‘Sorted. Now all we have to do is write a load of appropriate twaddle about how well we’ve thought it through and what makes us think it’s not going to crash and burn.’
She chuckled and stood up. ‘Not tonight. Come on, let’s watch a bit of mindless TV and go to bed. It’ll still be there tomorrow and we won’t sleep if we don’t have a break from it.’
She was talking sense, but a huge part of him wanted to sort it now, because he knew it wasn’t twaddle and Ben had made it perfectly clear how important it was.
‘I bought chocolate earlier,’ she taunted, heading for the sitting room.
‘As if we haven’t just eaten enough rubbish. What sort?’
‘Oh, it’s healthy. Fruit and nut. Two of your five a day—and it’s dark chocolate, which is positively good for you,’ she said over her shoulder, and he dropped his pen, stood up and followed her.
‘There could be disadvantages to working with someone who knows me quite so well,’ he growled, plopping down onto the sofa beside her and picking up the TV remote. ‘Hand it over, then.’
* * *
He was up at five to fill in the application form, putting his case for wanting to job share and how he saw it working for the patients in his care, and he heard the stairs creak and Emily walked in in her pyjamas, hair tousled, one cheek rosy from having slept on it.
And looking as sexy as hell.
‘Tea?’ she asked, and he nodded, his head draining of coherent thought.
‘Please. With caffeine. Why are you up?’
‘To help you? I heard you go downstairs, and I had an idea you’d be doing this while the children are still asleep.’
He gave a wry grunt. ‘Absolutely. If we can, I want to give it to Ben today for his thoughts so we’ve got time to tweak it before he puts it to the Board tomorrow. Are you OK for me to go to work tomorrow, by the way?’
‘Of course I am. I have to be. It’s the new reality, Jake.’
She filled the kettle and came and sat down next to him, the drift of warm, Emily-scented air and the crazy pyjamas doing nothing for his concentration.
‘I’m a bit worried we might have a timing problem. I have to give eight weeks’ notice if I’m not going back to my old job after mat leave, which means by the end of next week, but if I hand in my notice there and they say no to the job share here, I could end up with a break in my continuous NHS employment and have to give back my maternity pay, and I just don’t have the money.’
He stopped thinking about her pyjamas and let his breath out on a long, low whistle.
‘I hadn’t realised you were so near the end of mat leave, but you’re right, that could be tight. I’ll make sure Ben knows, but as we don’t have a female consultant or anyone wanting to do more sessions, it’s a golden opportunity for them and they’d be mad to turn us down because some women really need a female doctor. It’ll take the pressure off our female registrars, and I can think of at least one patient I’ve seen in the last week who I’d want to hand over to you for just that reason and I’m sure there are others. We just have to sound convincing.’
He sat back and stretched out his shoulders. ‘Has that kettle boiled yet? This is making my head hurt.’
* * *
He went off to see Ben later that morning, armed with their draft proposal and suggested timetable split, and she girded her loins to deal with another joyous day of tantrums from Matilda, but there were none—or at least not on the scale of her previous efforts.
Instead she ate her breakfast nicely, then lay on the floor with Zach and built a tower of cups for him to knock down, and built it again, and again, and again, and every time he knocked it down she giggled, and so did he.
Emily was stunned, and when Jake rang in the middle of it, she held the phone out so he could hear.
‘Is that Zach laughing?’
‘It’s both of them. It’s delicious. I don’t know what’s got into them, but I’m all in favour of it. Have you spoken to Ben?’
‘Yes. He’s taken it all away to read through a bit more thoroughly, but he seems more than happy. He was talking about the Board contacting your referees before they interview you, so you might want to OK that with them before tomorrow.’
‘I’ve done it—or at least the ones I could get hold of. I’ve emailed the CEO but my clinical lead’s going to have a word. He was brilliant, so supportive. They’ve been amazing to me, and I feel bad about not going back, but—I just feel this is right for both of us.’
‘You and Zach, you mean?’
‘No! You and me. Well, and the children, on current form, but I won’t hold my breath,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Any ideas what I should do with them next when this all falls apart?’
‘Matilda likes cooking. We make rock buns sometimes. It’s hard to ruin them.’
She chuckled. ‘What, even for you?’ she teased.
‘Very funny. I’m on my way, but you’ll find everything you need in the cupboard next to the fridge. Don’t eat them all before I get home.’
‘You know what? It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t I make a picnic instead and we could go to the beach? They’d love that, and maybe what we all need is some time together just having fun.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea. Want me to pick anything up?’
‘Sandwiches? I think we’ve got everything else.’
‘OK. I’ll see you shortly.’
* * *
She was right, the children had a wonderful time on the beach, and so did they.
They found a nice flat area in the shelter of a breakwater and had their picnic, then they built a sandcastle just below the high-water mark where the sand was still damp enough to stick together.
‘It needs a moat,’ Emily insisted.
‘Of course it does, why wouldn’t it?’ he said wryly, knowing what was coming, so he rolled up his jeans as high as he could and took a bucket down to the sea and got predictably drenched by a freak wave.
‘It’s not funny,’ he told her, trying not to laugh, but Matilda thought it was hilarious and little Zach joined in, and then when they’d all finished laughing at him they decided—they being Em, of course—that it would be fun to bury him in the sand.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Lie down and stop fussing. You know you want to.’
So he dug out a hollow and lay down in it obediently and let them cover him in sand. It was damper than he’d realised, though, and by the time he broke free and stood up, he was plastered in it.
‘It’ll fall off when it dries,’ Em said cheerfully, and handed him a bucket. ‘Why don’t you go and rinse your hands and feet and bring some water up so we can rinse our hands, too, and then I think it might be time to go. They’re getting tired.’
‘I’m not surprised. They’ve shifted about a ton of sand between them.’
‘They had help.’
‘I noticed,’ he said drily, but he went and fetched water, more cautiously this time, and then they cleared up all the toys and the remains of the picnic and set off.
* * *
The children were both fractious by then, so they decided to go for a walk to let them sleep in the buggy.
Zach was gone in moments and it didn’t take Matilda long to join him, so they went round the point past the sea defences and followed the sea wall along to the harbour, falling into step as they strolled along.
The sea was quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the soft slap of the waves on the shingle, the stones settling with a little whisper as the waves receded. Out at sea some gulls were wheeling over a fishing boat, and they could hear the faint putter of its engine in the distance.
‘Gosh, it’s beautiful. I can see why you love it here,’ Emily said with a sigh, and he grunted softly.
‘Jo couldn’t. She flatly refused to live here with me, even though she hadn’t said anything negative when the job came up and I started looking at houses, and then of course it was too late, I was committed to the move and there was nothing I could do about it.’
She turned her head so she could see his face. ‘Do you think she really hated it and didn’t want to live here, or didn’t want to live with you because she’d realised she didn’t love you? You’re old enough to be pragmatic, but she’s not, she’s still young enough to be dreaming of a happy ever after, which is probably why she’s gone off chasing rainbows with the dude in the campervan. And maybe you moving here just gave her an out?’
He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, dislodging the sand that had finally dried in it. ‘I have no idea. Maybe. I knew she was a bit of a hippy at heart, but I wouldn’t have said she was manipulative so I think you could be right. She was probably just out of her depth. You know she nearly didn’t have Matilda? She said at the time she wasn’t ready to be a mother, and judging by the way she walked off last week and left Tilly without a backward glance, she was right.’
‘So, what did your parents say about that?’ Em asked curiously. ‘I take it you’ve told them.’
He laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humour in it. ‘Nothing new. My mother told me it was no more than I deserved, and my father gave me another lecture on contraception and what he called my indiscriminate sexual habits—What?’ he asked, shooting her a dirty look when she laughed.
She tried to straighten her face. ‘Well, it was high time someone said it,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re a bit of an alley cat, Jake.’
‘I am not!’ Her eyebrows shot up, and he frowned. ‘Seriously, Em, I’m not, at least not anymore, and I have no idea how she got pregnant.’
‘You need me to explain?’ she said, and then stopped walking, mostly because she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.
‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ he growled.
‘So what did you mean?’ she asked when she could speak. ‘Because you can’t have been that careful or she wouldn’t have got pregnant. Was she on the Pill?’
‘No, and we were careful! We used a condom every single time, and as far as I know none of them failed—not that it’s any of your business,’ he added, glowering at her and trying not to laugh.
She wasn’t even trying. ‘Well, clearly one of them failed—or else she sabotaged you.’
‘Why would she do that?’
She fell into step beside him again, giving him a disbelieving look. ‘Oh, come on, Jake. You’re a good catch.’
‘So why didn’t she catch me? Why not insist that I marry her? God knows I offered.’
‘She didn’t need to. You were supporting her anyway, and maybe by then she’d realised she didn’t love you.’
He shook his head. ‘No, she’s not like that. She’s not organised enough to be premeditated.’
She stopped walking again and turned to look at him, thoughtful now. ‘I don’t know, Jake. She stole your money and defaulted on her rent, so she obviously planned that. And if she said it was an accident when she got pregnant, you’d believe her. Accidents happen all the time, and people get carried away in the heat of the moment and fall into bed without thinking. It has been known, and it wouldn’t be the first time you’d done it.’
She knew that all too well. She vividly remembered the time they’d come really, really close to making love...
‘Can we please stop discussing my sex life?’ he muttered, and she wondered if he was actually blushing or if it was just that he’d caught the sun.
‘Well, at least you have one. I can’t even remember what it was like,’ she said with painful honesty.
‘Ah, come on, Em, you and Pete were married for years!’
‘And most of the time he was too busy trying not to die,’ she pointed out.
All trace of laughter was gone from her voice now, and Jake stopped walking and pulled her into his arms with a ragged sigh, resting his cheek against her hair.
‘Ah, hell, I’m sorry, Em,’ he murmured apologetically. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, it’s none of my business. It must have been so tough for you both, living on a knife-edge throughout the whole of your marriage.’
She eased away from him and started walking again, somehow uncomfortable talking about Pete while she was standing in Jake’s arms. ‘Not all of it. Some of it was OK, especially after he got the all-clear, but I always knew in my bones it couldn’t last.’
‘So why did you decide to have a baby if you thought he was going to die?’ he asked, finally asking the question that must have been bugging him ever since she’d told him she was pregnant and Pete was dying.
She sighed, her shoulders lifting in a little shrug. ‘Because I thought he would live to see it. Pete had always wanted children, so had I, and my clock was ticking. He’d banked some sperm as soon as he was diagnosed, before he had the first chemo, so it was sitting there waiting, and I felt if we didn’t get on with it I’d have left it too late and missed my chance, but I never dreamt it would be over so soon for him. That was a real shock, when he went downhill so fast and I realised we’d left it too late.’
‘It must have been. Do you regret it?’
‘What, marrying Pete, or having Zach?’
‘I meant having Zach,’ he said, although he must have wondered if she’d regretted her marriage to a man she’d known was probably dying, but maybe he felt he’d been intrusive enough.
She smiled down at the sleeping baby snuggled up in the buggy, her heart filling. ‘Not for a single second. It hasn’t been easy, and I’ve often been scared that I couldn’t cope, but no, I’ve never regretted it. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, apart from you, of course, but that’s different.’
She flashed him a smile, and he reached out and took her hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let go, just kept her hand there in his as they strolled along side by side, their fingers loosely linked.
It was only when the path narrowed again that he slipped his hand out of hers to go on ahead with the buggy, and she curled her fingers tightly into her palm and felt oddly bereft.
* * *
Jake rang her on Tuesday morning to say he’d had an email inviting him for interview at nine-thirty on Thursday.
‘Gosh, that was quick.’
‘It was. Ben promised he’d hustle it. Check your emails,’ he said, but she was already doing it and her heart was racing.
‘Yes, they want to see me at ten-fifteen. And they said allow until one. Ouch.’
‘Mmm. I think that’s because they want us one at a time, and then together.’
‘Can you get the time off?’ she asked, hooking Zach out of the bottom pan drawer and sliding it shut with her leg. ‘Because taking these two to an interview could be interesting, although we’ll need cover for the joint interview anyway. What are we going to do about that?’
‘I’ll sort it with Ben—he’ll need cover, too, and I’ll talk to the nursery,’ he promised. ‘I spoke to them about Matilda the other day, and they had some capacity then, so hopefully they can squeeze them in. Right, got to go, I’m due in Theatre. In fact, why don’t you come up here and talk to the staff at the nursery anyway, because this is for Zach, too, and it might give the children a chance to get familiarised before we have to leave them there—assuming they still have space.’
‘And failing that?’
She could almost see him shrug. ‘Then I’ll ask Ben’s wife Daisy if she can help out for the interviews as a one-off. She’s lovely and Tils knows her, but in the long term we may have to find somewhere else.’
‘OK. I’ll take them up there now and see. I’ll text you the answer.’
* * *
She spent the next hour at the nursery, and although Matilda dragged her everywhere she wanted to go, she did at least explore the garden and have a go on the play equipment, and Zach seemed happy in the sandpit so long as Emily sat on the edge. Then she found the water trough, and that was it.
‘Right, Tilly, we need to go now and see the ducks,’ she said, and to her amazement Matilda shook her head.
‘No. I playing.’
She was pouring water from one container to another and getting utterly drenched, but she seemed totally content, and Emily pulled out her phone and took a picture and sent it to Jake.
Hallelujah! he texted back, and she smiled.
Hallelujah, indeed. For now, at least.
* * *
Predictably Jake rang her in his lunch break to find out more.
‘It was great,’ she told him. ‘I saw Caitlin, she said you’d spoken to her, which was really useful because I didn’t have to explain anything in front of the children.’
‘How about security?’
‘It’s excellent, and they seem to have wonderful facilities. And they have space, which is a miracle, apparently, but someone’s just left so we got lucky.’
‘What did Matilda make of it at first?’
‘She was a bit wary, but after she’d found her feet a little she loved it, and so did Jake. We played for ages, and the other children seemed happy, which was good to see. I’ve been quite worried about it because I’ve never left Zach with anyone except Pete’s parents, and that’s only been for an hour or so to have my hair cut or go to the dentist, but I don’t think I need to worry about him at all or you about Matilda.’
‘No, thanks for sending me that photo, it’s delicious.’
‘It is, but I had to drag them away. Neither of them wanted to leave. I had to bribe them with feeding the ducks.’
He chuckled. ‘Yeah, the ducks can be quite handy. Well, that’s brilliant. Thanks. So are we all set for Thursday?’
‘Yes—except I need to go home this evening and grab something to wear for my interview that might not be a total disgrace. I can do that after you get home once they’re in bed.’
‘OK. I’ll try not to be late.’
* * *
It was only a flying visit to collect some clothes, because all she’d brought with her was a few pairs of jeans and an armful of tops, and that wasn’t going to impress anyone. Not that she had much at home to choose from that would still fit her since she’d had Zach, but there had to be something.
She parked on the drive, went in and shut the front door, and then stood for a second while the silence closed in around her. She realised it was the first time she’d been alone in the house since Zach was born, and it felt odd. Odd, and strangely unsettling. And, to her surprise, although the house she’d shared with Pete for so long was familiar, it didn’t feel like home. It just felt wrong somehow, so she raided her wardrobe and left without lingering.
‘That was quick. Did you find what you wanted?’ Jake asked her when she got home—home?—and she nodded, going into the sitting room and perching on the arm of the sofa.
‘Yes, I suppose so. It’ll do.’ She frowned at the television. ‘Are you seriously watching Titanic?’
‘Oh, I was just killing time till you got back, really. There’s not much on.’
‘Titanic made you cry.’
‘It made you cry, too, if I remember rightly,’ he reminded her drily.
‘Surely not.’ She peered at the bag beside him. ‘Is that popcorn?’
‘It might be.’
She felt her mouth twitch and bit her lips to trap the smart retort. ‘What flavour?’
‘Wasabi and ginger.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding,’ she said, and his eyes crinkled.
‘I’m not, they do make it, but it’s salted caramel.’
She couldn’t help the laugh. ‘I knew you wouldn’t eat anything that weird. Give me five seconds to change and I’ll be back. I’ll have tea, please—and don’t finish the popcorn!’
She ran upstairs, grinning and ignoring the muttering she left behind, and by the time she was back in her PJs there were two mugs of tea steaming on the coffee table, Titanic paused on the television and Jake with his hand back in the bag of popcorn.
‘Hey, get out of that, we’re sharing, remember?’ she said, dropping down on the sofa beside him and reaching for the bag.
‘Say please.’ He held it out of reach, laughing, and she lunged across him, trying to make a grab for it and digging her elbow into his ribs by accident.
‘Ouch! Get off me!’ He laughed, holding the bag further out of reach, but she made another lunge for it and grabbed it victoriously, and their eyes met and something weird happened.
They froze, eyes locked, and for a paralysing second she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he removed his hand from the bag and looked away, and she retreated hastily into the corner with the popcorn, wondering if her cheeks were as red as they felt, and he picked up the remote without a word and restarted the movie.
* * *
‘Popcorn?’
What, and risk another highly charged wrestling match? He’d only just got his body back under control. But the bag was just there, so he dug into it and took a handful.
‘I hate this bit,’ she said, when the ship started to list and fill with water, and she wriggled up against his side, her hand tucked through his arm as if nothing had happened.
Another layer of torment? He could still feel the warm softness of her body under his hands, feel the silk of her skin, smell the scent of her as she’d squirmed giggling against him.
How was he supposed to feel? To act? She might be just a friend, but she was a beautiful woman. Of course he’d noticed, but apart from that embarrassing blip fifteen years ago he’d spent twenty years ignoring it, keeping the lid firmly on the box.
And she’d either done the same, which he doubted because she frankly wasn’t that good at hiding her feelings, or she’d genuinely felt nothing more for him than friendship. Well, not in that way, anyhow, and even if she did there was no way he was ripping the lid off the box at this point in their relationship, not with so much riding on it.
He felt her head settle on his shoulder, then after a few minutes, as the story came to its inescapable and heartrending end, her grip on his arm tightened reflexively and he heard a tiny, stifled sniff.
‘You’re a softie, do you know that?’ he said, resting his head against hers, and she pulled away and sniffed harder, grabbing the remote from the table and turning the television off.
‘You’re such a hypocrite. You snivelled just as much as me in the cinema.’
‘I was nineteen, and anyway, it’s sad!’
‘You were a softie,’ she told him, swivelling round to look at him. ‘And you still are!’
‘I am not!’
‘So what’s this?’ she asked victoriously, lifting her hand and touching a finger to the outer corner of his eye. She lifted it to her lips, flicking her tongue out to taste it, and he stifled a groan. ‘Tears, Stratton! Actual, real tears! So don’t you go giving me grief!’
She was just there, mere inches away, hands on her hips and laughing at him while her eyes still sparkled with her own tears, and the urge to lean in and kiss that sassy smile off her face nearly finished him.
But not quite.
He took her by the shoulders, eased her away from him and stood up, sending a shower of popcorn crumbs onto the carpet. ‘Right, enough nonsense, it’s time for bed,’ he said briskly. ‘I’ve got a long day tomorrow, and we need to rehearse our interview technique in the evening.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really. Come on. Bedtime.’
He reached out a hand and hauled her to her feet, then just because he couldn’t help himself he reeled her in and hugged her.
Just briefly, just enough to mess with his dreams, but they were probably going to be X-rated anyway after that wrestling match over the popcorn. Dammit. He let her go, screwed up the empty bag and picked up the mugs as she headed for the stairs.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said, and flicked off the light and went into the kitchen for a quiet moment alone to gather his ragged composure and have a stern word with his heart, because the tears she’d seen in his eyes had had nothing to do with the film and everything to do with his feelings for a woman he couldn’t allow himself to love.
Not if this job share was going to stand the slightest chance of working.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
THEY SPENT WEDNESDAY evening interviewing each other, thinking up all the horrible questions they could be asked and trying to answer them coherently.
How would they divide their time? What if it didn’t work? How about sick leave, holidays—would they cover for each other on an overtime basis? Did they have an agreement to share the tasks equally and equitably? What if one of them wanted out? Medical questions, too, because Nick Jarvis, the husband of Liv who’d delivered Zach, had been grilled by Ben when he’d come back to work here the year before and he’d warned them not to expect Ben to play nice.
‘Enough!’ she said, jumping to her feet and clutching her hair when midnight was looming and her head was ready to explode. ‘If we don’t stop talking about this, I’m going to be awake all night and I won’t be able to string two words together. It’s bad enough that I’m going to look like a bag lady.’
He started to laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Why will you look like a bag lady?’
‘Why? Because none of my decent clothes fit me properly now—and I can’t even remember when I last wore a skirt.’
‘So wear trousers.’
‘I can’t get into them either, they won’t do up because I’ve changed shape and put on weight. The only thing I can get into is a stretchy pencil skirt I had when I was first pregnant, and a jacket that won’t quite meet. And frankly, Jake, that’s not adequate!’
He laughed again, but his eyes were tender and made her feel strange. ‘Em, you’re gorgeous. You couldn’t look like a bag lady if you tried—’
‘Don’t patronise me! I don’t look gorgeous, and I certainly don’t look professional. At the outside I’ll get by.’
‘Hey, you’ll be fine,’ he assured her, serious now. ‘They want to talk to you about the job, not check out your dress sense.’
She growled under her breath. ‘It’s not about them, it’s about me. I need to feel professional and well presented to give me confidence, and I’ve worn nothing but stretchy skinny jeans and baggy tops covered in baby goo for the last nine months!’
‘Oh, Em.’ He laughed softly, and getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. His chest was broad and solid, and the scent of his skin drifted over her, warm and familiar and oddly disturbing.
‘You’ll be great,’ he murmured, his low voice rumbling in his chest beneath her ear and adding to the disturbing sensations. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be fine, you’ll wow them. Now go to bed. I’ll wake you in the morning so you’ve got time to get showered before I have to leave, OK?’
‘OK.’
He let her go, the warm, safe embrace broken, and she kissed his cheek and went up to bed, too tired to worry any more. What would be would be, and worrying wasn’t going to make a blind bit of difference.
* * *
Jake watched her go, then stared sightlessly out of the window into the night.
He hoped he’d managed to reassure her, but there was nobody to reassure him, and so much—so much—was hanging on these interviews.
Tomorrow had the potential to change the entire course of his life. He just hoped it would be for the better—for all of them.
His mind churning, he tidied up the kitchen, turned out the lights and went upstairs. Her bedroom door was open, the light on, and as he walked past it to check on Matilda he saw her sitting up in bed in those cute pyjamas that made him think of things he had no business thinking about.
And it didn’t help that she was feeding Zach.
She patted the mattress beside her, and he went in and perched on the edge of the bed.
‘What’s up?’
‘I’m just nervous. It will be all right, won’t it?’ she asked, a worried frown puckering her forehead. ‘It has to be.’
He shrugged. ‘I hope so. We’re well prepared. We can’t do any more than we have.’
‘No, I guess not.’
She eased the sleepy baby off her nipple, and he looked away hastily, his eyes falling instead on a small double picture frame on her bedside table.
‘Could you hold him for me, please? I need the bathroom and then I need to change his nappy.’
‘Sure.’ He stood up and took Zach from her, his eyes drawn again to the photos under the bedside light as she left the room.
They were both pictures of Em and Pete, but they were very different. The first had been taken on their wedding day, laughter shining in their eyes; the second looked like a selfie, with her propped up beside him on a bed, Pete holding something on his chest. He peered closer, and the little blur became clear.
‘Oh, Em,’ he breathed, emotion clogging his throat. The only image Pete would ever see of his son, his twelve-week scan photo, was resting on his heart. Em must have been taken the selfie on the day of the scan, less than a week before Pete died.
He stared at it silently, the image blurring. It was so cruel, so unfair. He’d promised Pete on his deathbed that he’d look after Emily and the baby and keep them safe, and he said it again now, his mouth moving silently as Emily came back into the room.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking the now sleeping baby from his arms. She put him down on the bed, then turned back to Jake as he stood up and slipped her arms round him and rested her head on his chest with a sigh.
‘We will be OK, won’t we, Jake? We can do this, can’t we?’
He dragged his eyes off the photo and tried to stop thinking about the feel of her body against his. ‘Of course we can, and it’ll all be fine, one way or another. Go on, go to bed, get some sleep.’
Her arms tightened briefly and then, as if the hug wasn’t enough to finish him off, she tilted her head and touched her lips to his cheek. Her scent curled around him, the soft touch of her skin, the warmth of her lips, the fullness of her body pressed against him not helping at all.
He dropped his arms and stepped back, blew the sleeping baby a kiss and walked to the door. As he turned to shut it, the photo caught his gaze again.
He closed the door, checked Matilda and went into his own room, shutting the door firmly between him and temptation.
What on earth had he let himself in for? And he’d told Emily to be sure she was doing the right thing? If it hadn’t been for his promise to Pete, he’d tell Emily he couldn’t do this and he’d find another way, but he couldn’t, because he’d promised to look after her and her baby, and she needed this job share every bit as much as he did. He’d just have to grit his teeth and get on with it.
Assuming they got the job share, which they wouldn’t if he didn’t get some sleep so he could think straight tomorrow.
But sleep was a long time coming, because every time he closed his eyes he saw the haunting image of a dying man, chiding him for his hypocrisy.
* * *
Nick had been right.
The interviews were thorough, rigorous and didn’t cut either of them any slack, but somehow they got through them, and after the joint interview they were sent out so the board could discuss the results.
There was a small waiting area with chairs grouped around a low table with a pile of magazines on it, and as they sat there Emily rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.
‘I hope I didn’t let you down,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t know what they wanted from me half the time. I probably talked rubbish.’
He slid his arm round her shoulders and hugged her. ‘It can’t have been any worse than mine, and I thought we did all right in the joint interview.’
‘By a miracle.’
‘Well, maybe we’re due one,’ he said, the photo of Pete on her bedside table all too clear in his mind.
‘Hope so. A lot depends on it. I spoke to Pete’s parents while you were in there, they said if the children didn’t get on at nursery they’d have them on Wednesdays for us.’
‘Wow. That’s a big commitment.’ Not one his own parents would be able or willing to make, he knew that. They’d made their feelings perfectly clear and had very little time for him or their granddaughter.
She shrugged. ‘They’re lovely people, and I think they’d like it, but they live on the other side of Bury St Edmunds and it’s a long way. Further now than it was, so it isn’t really feasible.’
‘Let’s wait and see. It may not even be necessary—oh, here we go. Chin up.’
He retrieved his arm as the boardroom door opened, his legs suddenly like jelly as he got to his feet, but Ben was smiling as he beckoned them in and the CEO told them that their application had been successful and the job share was theirs.
‘We were very impressed with the amount of thought you’d both put into it, and the meticulous planning of your schedule, and also your willingness to be flexible and add extra time. So if you want to go ahead, I’ll inform HR and they can start working on the contracts, and we look forward to welcoming Mrs Cardew to the hospital.’
‘Thank you—that’s amazing,’ he said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and beside him he heard Emily sniff and let out what might have been a sob of laughter.
‘Wow. Thank you—thank you so much,’ she said, her voice wobbling a little. ‘I won’t let you down. We won’t let you down.’
* * *
She waited until they were out of the room and walking along the corridor before she let out a tiny whoop and hugged him. ‘Yessss! We did it!’
‘We did,’ Jake said with a laugh, hugging her back, ‘and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we grab a really quick lunch? I’m in Theatre this afternoon and I ought to go and see my patients first, but I’ve got half an hour. Are you OK to pick up the children without me afterwards and talk to the nursery about having them every Wednesday?’
‘Yes, of course I am—and definitely yes to lunch,’ she added, suddenly aware that she was shaking all over. ‘I think my blood sugar’s a bit low. I couldn’t eat breakfast and I’m starving.’
‘Me, too. We’ll go to the Park Café and get a sandwich and a coffee. We can celebrate properly later.’
They walked into the café and he headed for the grab-and-go chiller. ‘Are you sure a sandwich and coffee’s OK?’
‘Of course it is,’ she said, and took a sandwich out of the chiller, just as one of the café staff hailed Jake from behind the counter.
‘Hello, Mr Stratton. How’s your little girl? I felt so sorry for her. Is she all right?’ the woman asked, and Emily realised that this must be where Jo had left Matilda, in the middle of this busy café right off the main hospital thoroughfare where anyone could walk in.
‘She’s fine, Sue, thank you,’ Jake was saying. ‘She’s doing well and we’re all sorted.’
‘Oh, good, I am glad. Cappuccino with an extra shot?’
‘Please, and a decaf cappuccino, as well.’
He added a bar of chocolate and paid the bill, and they headed out through a set of doors that led to an outside seating area.
There was an open barrier around the outside, just a few low screens to indicate the café area, but beyond it was the park, which was open to the public and without any security, and Jo had left Matilda here? She was even more appalled. Compared to the security of the nursery, this was terrifying—
‘I can’t believe it she left her here,’ she said, shocked. ‘What if Ben hadn’t been there? Anybody could have wandered in off the park and just wheeled her away, and who would have stopped them? No wonder you were so angry!’
He nodded. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I know. She could have just brought her up to Maternity, where she would have been safe. Maybe she would have done if Ben hadn’t been there, but she should have spoken to me, handed her over, done it properly, not just dumped her like she dumps everything when she realises it’s not what she thought it was going to be.
‘That was exactly what she did with me when she changed her mind and decided she didn’t like Yoxburgh after all and didn’t want to live here. Too cold, too windy, too far from her friends. And apparently I was too obsessed with my job, which I can understand, and you’re probably right about her holding out for happy ever after, but—to leave your own daughter like that? I could never do that, and for the life of me I can’t imagine what I saw in her.’
She smiled wryly at him. ‘It’s not rocket science, Jake. You were lonely, and she was there. And I’ve seen photos, she’s lovely.’
‘No. No, you’re lovely,’ he said emphatically—so emphatically that she felt her eyes widen. ‘Honest and straightforward, decent, kind, thoughtful, considerate, and you’ll put yourself out for a friend.’
‘Well, of course I would—’
‘No, not of course. Not like you have. For God’s sake, Emily, you’ve just given up everything to help me. That wouldn’t have occurred to Jo. Sure, she’s pretty, but she can’t commit to anything, not even her own daughter, and as soon as the going gets tough, she’s off. I don’t suppose she even stopped to work out how I was going to juggle caring for Matilda with earning a living so I could put a roof over her head. She just—went.’
‘Did you ever look at the CCTV?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Ben got them to create a copy of the recordings, just in case I want to take her to court, but as I don’t have a way of doing that it doesn’t seem relevant, and anyway, I haven’t exactly had time. Besides, what’s it going to tell me? Nothing I don’t already know.’
‘No, I guess not. I’m so sorry it didn’t work for you.’
He threw her a bitter smile. ‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault I had such a massive error of judgement, but Matilda’s fine and so am I, and thanks to you and this job share I can see light at the end of the tunnel. And for what it’s worth, you’re beautiful. Right, coronation chicken, BLT or half each?’
* * *
The doorbell rang at eight that evening, and it was Ben, with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of Prosecco.
‘Just to say well done and to welcome you to the team,’ he said, kissing Emily’s cheek.
‘Are you sure it’s not to apologise for grilling us like kippers in the interviews?’ Jake asked drily from behind her, but Ben just shrugged.
‘Got to be done,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘and you both came out of it very well, so I wouldn’t let it worry you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up, I just wanted to give you these. And Daisy says if you’re ever at a loose end, either of you, she’s always looking for another adult to talk to, so give her a call and you can have a play-date with the children. And she does mean it.’
‘I might well do that,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve heard so much about her. And thank you, for the flowers and the Prosecco, but most of all for doing so much to make this happen. We’re both really grateful.’
‘My pleasure. I should give you a guided tour of the hospital, really.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve sort of had one. Don’t forget I road-tested the facilities when I had Zach, so it’s not a totally unknown quantity. And I’m sure Jake’ll help me find my feet.’
‘I’m sure he will. And I really hope this works for you both, because you’ve obviously thought it through very thoroughly, so it deserves to. And any problems, any time, my door’s always open. And I mean that. If you need help, ask.’
He kissed her cheek again, shook hands with Jake and went out, and Jake looked from her to the Prosecco.
‘Shall we celebrate?’ he asked, and she thought of all the things she’d given up—her job, her friends, her house...
No, not her friends. Jake was and always had been the only friend who really mattered to her. And the house wasn’t hers, either, it was hers and Pete’s. It had felt like a prison at times, but it had also been her sanctuary and she’d thought losing it would be hard, but when she’d gone there the other night it hadn’t felt like home any more, as if that part of her life was done.
And this—this was her new life, here with Jake and yet not with him. It was odd, unsettling, a little confusing, but it wasn’t for ever and Jake was making sacrifices, too. It wasn’t a one-way street—
‘Em?’
Putting the negatives aside and concentrating on the very many positives, she looked into Jake’s serious, searching eyes and found a smile.
‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, let’s celebrate.’
He popped the cork, poured two glasses and handed her one. ‘To the future,’ he said, and she lifted her glass.
‘To the future,’ she echoed, and shut the door firmly on the past.
* * *
It took until the end of the following week to sort out the contracts and shuffle patient appointments to accommodate their new arrangement, and in that time Jake moved all his stuff from the bathroom to the downstairs shower room, decorated the bathroom and started on the room that would be Zach’s, ready for him to move into.
It was just a quick coat of paint, but it made him feel slightly better about the sacrifices Em was having to make.
‘You don’t have to do this for me,’ she said, bringing him tea after she’d fed Zach and settled him for the night.
‘Yes, I do.’ He put the brush down, got off the ladder and took the mug from her. ‘I want you to feel at home, and I’ve been in your home, and it’s beautiful, and this place is a mess.’
‘It’s a glorious mess. Our house is dull in comparison.’
Our house.
He looked away. ‘I didn’t think it was dull. I thought it was lovely.’
‘It is, but it hasn’t got the high ceilings or the original fireplaces or any of the other things the Victorians were so good at.’
‘What, like the rattling windows and the leaky roof and the fact that the floor’s slightly wonky in the kitchen because the back of the house has sunk?’
She grinned at him. ‘It’s all part of its charm.’
He snorted. ‘It’s nearly summer, Em. You wait till the winter. You might want to reassess when the wind’s shrieking off the North Sea and pouring in round the edges of the window frames.’
‘Oh, you paint such a glorious picture! We can wear thick jumpers and snuggle up under fleecy blankets. And anyway, fresh air’s good for you. So, what can I do?’
‘Keep me company,’ he said, trying not to think about snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket. ‘Cutting in round the edge is boring.’
‘Want me to roller the walls?’
‘Be my guest,’ he said, so she joined in and they finished Zach’s bedroom together, and all the time he reminded himself that it should have been Pete doing it. Pete painting their baby’s bedroom with her. Pete snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket—
‘Right, we’re done. I’m going to wash this lot before the paint ruins them.’
‘Want a hand?’
‘No, you’re all right,’ he said, suddenly feeling the need for space, because it was beginning to dawn on him that, for the next several years at least, he was going to be sharing every detail of his house, his work, his life with another man’s woman.
The woman he loved, he finally admitted to himself. The only woman he’d ever really loved, the woman he wanted with all his heart. How the hell had it taken him so long to work out how much she meant to him? All those wasted years—and now he’d be living and working alongside her, with her and yet not with her, and it was going to be way, way tougher than he’d realised...
* * *
The contracts signed, they went to her house that weekend before she started work on the Monday, and while the children played on the floor with Zach’s toys, Jake dismantled the cot and loaded it into his car, together with all Zach’s clothes and toys and all the baby equipment she hadn’t already taken over there. While he did that she packed up all the food in the kitchen, throwing out the dregs of packets, the oddments of jam and chutney in the fridge, the last few bags of green tea that had been all Pete would drink in his last days, lurking in the back of the cupboard behind some out-of-date coffee beans.
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Caroline Anderson
Amy Ruttan
About the Authors (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
CAROLINE ANDERSON is a matriarch, writer, armchair gardener, unofficial tearoom researcher and eater of lovely cakes. Not necessarily in that order! What Caroline loves: her family. Her friends. Reading. Writing contemporary love stories. Hearing from readers. Walks by the sea with coffee/ice cream/cake thrown in! Torrential rain. Sunshine in spring/autumn. What Caroline hates: losing her pets. Fighting with her family. Cold weather. Hot weather. Computers. Clothes shopping. Caroline’s plans: keep smiling and writing!
Born and raised just outside Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. After the birth of her second child Amy was lucky enough to realise her lifelong dream of becoming a romance author. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mum to three wonderful children who use her as a personal taxi and chef.
Also By Caroline Anderson
The Valtieri Baby
Snowed in with the Billionaire
Yoxburgh Park Hospital miniseries
From Christmas to Eternity
The Secret in His Heart
Risk of a Lifetime
Best Friend to Wife and Mother?
Their Meant-to-Be Baby
The Midwife’s Longed-for Baby
Bound by Their Babies
Also By Amy Ruttan
Perfect Rivals…
Tempting Nashville’s Celebrity Doc
Unwrapped by the Duke
Alejandro’s Sexy Secret
His Pregnant Royal Bride
Convenient Marriage, Surprise Twins
Navy Doc on Her Christmas List
The Surgeon King’s Secret Baby
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Bound by Their Babies
Caroline Anderson
A Mummy for His Daughter
Amy Ruttan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09570-9
BOUND BY THEIR BABIES & A MUMMY FOR HIS DAUGHTER
Bound by Their Babies © 2018 Caroline Anderson A Mummy for His Daughter © 2018 Amy Ruttan
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Cover (#ufbb4f085-8389-52af-8eca-6fe92a24bd22)
About the Authors (#u4c44fb5e-dc0e-52c1-b4ea-5a9cfe1d0a41)
Booklist (#u811d41ba-db6b-537c-bc8e-cb81e06eab35)
Title Page (#u6e6f39b9-7b1b-5d76-870c-348f8643d7ce)
Copyright (#u912c0126-fc42-5ca5-a061-ad9157cb1351)
Bound by Their Babies (#u0c29ec94-c5dc-5edf-819a-ffc0225754d8)
Back Cover Text (#uac83f50e-b384-51d1-8aa3-6d8f105b781f)
Dedication (#ud9cd337a-ea63-54da-ad3c-ec64ac0b83eb)
PROLOGUE (#ufa5098e6-8930-528b-92a5-2442f2aa8118)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua3182764-9332-5884-8d9c-69f30ade4f07)
CHAPTER TWO (#u6dc48ca7-54db-590a-b2e5-3d5ebcd4c086)
CHAPTER THREE (#ub92e702b-4e7e-558b-b9f7-09d36eb58fc8)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u92049e52-e298-5168-ad9e-f3a1405ad69c)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
A Mummy for His Daughter (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
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CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Bound by Their Babies (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
Caroline Anderson
Best friends, single parents...
Now they need each other like never before!
Obstetricians Jake and Emily have supported each other through tough times. But when they both become single parents, there’s only one solution—move in together and share the job and the childcare! Only, the secret desires they’ve held for each other become very tough to hide. But would revealing their love risk their friendship—or answer their dreams?
Special thanks to the Gibbs family, who were inadvertently so helpful with the medical elements. I’m so glad it all went well in the end!
And huge thanks to my daughter Sarah for the excellent source material in the form of her four delightful and often hilarious young children, who help me to remember just how challenging parenting can be!
I love you all. xxx
PROLOGUE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
June
‘HI, EM. I’VE just come out of Theatre and found two missed calls, and I tried the house phone and got no reply. Where are you? Are you OK?’
Jake heard a soft laugh, then a little gasp, and his pulse shifted a notch.
‘Em? Talk to me!’
‘I’m in labour, but I can’t do this. I need you, Jake...’ Another little gasp. ‘I’m in Maternity Reception—’
She broke off breathlessly, the contraction obviously peaking, and his heart went into overdrive.
‘I’ll be right there,’ he promised, and sliding his phone back into his pocket, he told a colleague to page the registrar to take over from him and headed for the lift at a run, his heart hammering.
Crazy. There was no reason for him to react like this. He was an obstetrician, for heaven’s sake! He spent his life surrounded by women in labour, but this was different. This was Emily, his dearest, oldest, closest friend, and he’d promised he’d be there for her. Not as an obstetrician but as her birth partner, and that was much harder because it wasn’t his place to be there, it was Pete’s.
But Pete, her husband of eleven years, the father of her baby, couldn’t be here with her today or any other day. The man who’d had everything any man could want—everything he himself wanted—had lost it all for ever in a cruel twist of fate, and now all Emily had was Jake.
How could he possibly take Pete’s place?
The lift was on a go-slow, and he drummed his fingers on the door, wishing he’d taken the stairs. Come on, come on...
The doors finally hissed open, and there she was, leaning against the window opposite and breathing with soft, light huffs.
‘I’m here, Em, I’ve got you,’ he murmured, and laid his hand on the small of her back and rubbed firmly, and she moaned softly and leant into him, rocking from foot to foot as he stared out into the darkness and waited for the contraction to ease.
The first hint of dawn was just appearing on the horizon, a thin sliver of grey pushing back the night. New day, new life...
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, when the huffing stopped and she straightened up.
‘Awful.’ She turned and met his eyes, her own pinched with fear as she took his hands and hung on. ‘It’s not due for two weeks, how can I be in labour? I’m just not ready, Jake.’
Which made two of them. ‘Yes, you are. You know babies, Em. They come when they come, but at least you’re here now and I didn’t have a thirty-mile drive in the middle of the night to get to you.’
‘Oh, don’t! I thought you were being silly making me move in with you this week. I so nearly didn’t come. I didn’t think there was any need yet, and now I just can’t believe it’s happening.’
‘I can, so I’m really glad you finally listened to me—and you’ll be fine,’ he promised rashly. ‘You’re fit and well—’
‘Don’t give me that. I’m an obstetrician too, I know all the things that can go wrong, and fit and well’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘And you also know the odds, which are slim,’ he said calmly, even though his heart was still pounding. ‘You’ll be fine, Emily. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.’
‘You can’t say that.’
‘I can. I have,’ he told her, mentally crossing his fingers, because this baby was her last link with Pete, and absolutely nothing could be allowed to break that link. ‘Come on, let’s get you upstairs and admit you. Can you walk, or do you want a wheelchair?’
‘Walk. It’s easier.’
‘OK.’ He led her to the lift, and somebody was holding the doors. Liv, one of their most trusted midwives, and he felt a surge of relief as he flashed her a smile.
‘Hi, Liv. This is Emily—the friend I told you about? Em, Liv’s a senior midwife and she’s amazing.’
‘And you’re a smooth talker,’ Liv said with a laugh. ‘Hi, Emily, it’s good to meet you. I’ll come up with you, get you settled in. Want me to stay for the delivery?’ she added to Jake, and he nodded.
‘That would be great if you can,’ he said, as Emily turned into his arms, gripped his shoulders and moaned softly. ‘It’s OK, Em. Just breathe, in and out, nice and light,’ he coaxed gently, and felt the soft huff of her breath drift against the open V of his scrubs. ‘That’s it, well done, you’re doing really well.’
‘Two minutes forty,’ Liv murmured, and he nodded. They were coming thick and fast. No wonder she was struggling.
The lift pinged, and the grip on his shoulders eased.
‘Are we there?’
‘Yes. Come on, let’s get you comfortable.’
* * *
They felt like the longest two hours of his life, Em’s contractions blurring into each other in an untidy avalanche punctuated by calm reassurance and steady progress reports from Liv.
He was so glad Liv had stayed with them. He trusted her, and in this situation he felt so out of his depth it was absurd, but Liv was calm and in control and she handled it brilliantly while he tried to stop being a doctor and did what he could to help Em.
He rubbed her back, he held her hand, he walked her round, he held her, rocked her, mopped her brow, and then at last he lifted up the squalling, slippery little body of her son and laid him against the bare skin of her breast, his eyes blinded by tears as he tucked a warm towel around the baby.
‘Well done, Em. Well done. Clever girl.’
‘What is it?’
‘A boy,’ he said, his voice catching. He swallowed hard and tried again. ‘It’s a boy.’
Her head was bent so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see her fingers, the tender, sure curve of them over the baby’s head, the loving touch of a mother soothing her baby in those momentous moments after birth.
She pressed her lips to the baby’s head. ‘Hello, little one,’ she murmured, her voice a caress. ‘Welcome to the world.’
He was quiet now, his eyes fixed on his mother’s, tiny fingers curled around hers, and Jake’s throat was so clogged he couldn’t speak, but he squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him and smiled, her eyes shimmering in the slanting light of the early morning sun.
‘We did it,’ she said softly, her voice incredulous. ‘We actually did it.’
‘No, you did it,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘You’ve been so brave through all of this. Pete would be really proud of you.’
A tear slid down her cheek, and she gave a tiny nod and kissed the baby again.
‘He’s lovely and pink,’ Liv said with a smile, and Jake stepped back and made room for her to do her job. His presence was redundant now, and he just wanted to get out into the fresh air and sort out his feelings, because they were all over the place and some of them had no business being there at all.
‘Apgar score ten at one minute,’ Liv was saying to the other midwife, and he turned to the basin and washed his hands on autopilot, his emotions flayed.
It was fourteen months since Matilda had been born last April at his old hospital on the other side of Suffolk, but it could have been yesterday. It was the only other time he’d been at what felt like the wrong end of a delivery bed, and he’d been shocked at how emotional he’d been when his tiny daughter had been put in his arms, and how much he’d instantly loved her.
He’d only just started here at Yoxburgh Park Hospital then and Jo had refused to move with him, but he’d been there for Matilda’s birth, heard her first cry, been there to hold her, to bond with her, and he spent as much time with her now as he could.
It didn’t feel like enough, but at least he was alive. At least he knew his precious, darling Tilly, and she knew him. Pete would never know his son. The nearest he’d got was a grainy ultrasound image of a tiny foetus taken shortly before he’d died. Now Em was alone, and her little boy would never know his father. That gutted Jake, but he’d always be there for them, whenever he could. He’d promised Pete, and that promise to a dying man was unbreakable.
He went back to Em and stroked her damp, tangled blonde hair gently. ‘I’ll see you later. Give me a call when you’re all tidied up, and I’ll come back.’
Her mouth opened—on a protest?—and then closed again, and she gave him a fleeting smile and nodded. ‘Go and get a coffee or something. I’m not going anywhere fast.’
‘OK. Look after them for me, Liv.’
He gave Em a smile no steadier than her own, shunted the door out of the way and went out into the corridor.
It was deserted, thankfully, because right then he just needed to be alone. He headed for the lift, strode down the corridor to the Park Café as it opened, picked up a cappuccino with an extra shot and went outside, sucking in the fresh air.
It was still cool, only seven o’clock, but it was going to be a gorgeous summer’s day and he found an unoccupied bench and sat sipping his coffee in the slanting post-dawn sunshine, letting the tension ease out of him.
He’d been so tense at times during Em’s labour—totally illogically because it had been utterly straightforward, but he had been, anyway. She’d been through so much with Pete in the last few years and he’d felt so responsible for her care and safety during her labour, so duty-bound to make sure that nothing bad happened either to Pete’s baby or to Emily herself.
He’d worried until he’d heard that first cry, but not for the baby so much as for Emily and what it would have done to her if anything had gone wrong. If the baby hadn’t made it...
He’d been much more detached about Jo when she was in labour—partly, he had to admit, because he’d never really been in love with her. Not that he was in love with Em, not that he’d ever admit to, even to himself, and certainly not to her, although he’d come close to it years ago after the wedding of mutual friends. It was shortly after she’d met Pete, and after the wedding wound up they’d walked back to their hotel and she’d gone to his room for coffee and things had got a little out of control.
Maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the music, maybe just the whole soppy romantic thing of it, but before he’d known what had happened they’d been on the brink of making love. Then her phone had pinged with a text from Pete, and it had acted like a bucket of cold water over both of them, stopping them in their tracks.
She’d fled to her room and they’d never mentioned it again in all these years, but it had been the moment when he realised the full extent of his feelings for her. Feelings she hadn’t reciprocated, because she’d gone straight back to Pete the following day and he’d had to learn to live with it.
He’d buried those feelings for her so deep he’d almost forgotten them, but he still loved her deeply as a friend, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, or her for him. She meant the world to him. She was his best, his dearest, most loyal and honest friend, and he’d be lost without her.
Not that her honesty was always an asset. There were times you didn’t want to be told you were being an idiot, but she’d never been wrong.
He’d met her in freshers’ week, when she’d found him handcuffed to the railings outside university halls at six in the morning, stark naked and horribly hungover, next to a pile of dew-soaked clothes carefully placed just out of reach. She’d been heading out for a run when she’d seen him, and she’d found the key taped to the fence beside his clothes and set him free, but not before she’d lectured his ear off.
In between laughing herself silly.
He’d loved her from that moment, through all the ups and downs of med school, their first clinical placements—dammit, he’d even walked her down the aisle to marry Pete, knowing he had cancer, knowing how hard it would be for her, but knowing, too, that he had to be there for her no matter what.
And he had been. Still was, always would be.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out and read the text with a chuckle.
Safe to come back now. The messy stuff is over. In a side room.
He drained his cold coffee, dropped the cup in a bin on the way past and went up to see her.
She was sitting up cross-legged in bed breastfeeding the baby, and it hit him like a brick. Jo had never done that—said it didn’t work for her, which had saddened him, but she’d made it clear that it wasn’t his decision and in the end he was just grateful she’d gone through with the pregnancy at all.
He shoved the thought aside and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to Emily’s forehead, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘OK. I feel much better now I’ve had a shower.’ She caught hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Thank you for getting me through it. I was so scared.’
He wrapped his hands around hers. ‘Silly girl. I told you I’d look after you, and I won’t stop just because you’ve had the baby now. You know I’m here for you for as long as you need me, don’t you? And I’m not just saying that.’
‘Oh, Jake...’
Her eyes welled, and he leant over and hugged her carefully before detaching himself and stepping back, creating some much-needed distance. ‘So, how’s the feeding going?’
‘Oh, he’s a natural, apparently. He certainly knows what he wants and goes for it—that’s good, according to Liv, although you could have fooled me,’ she added with a wry smile.
He chuckled. ‘It is good, and you’ll soon both settle into it.’ He dropped into the chair beside her bed and stifled a yawn.
‘Tired?’
‘A bit. Long night, with all this added excitement at the end of it, but see? I told you nothing would go wrong.’
Her smile faded. ‘Nothing else, you mean? I suppose never getting to meet his father is enough. We were probably owed a break.’
‘Yes, I think you were,’ he said softly, then after a slight pause, ‘Have you thought of a name?’
‘Zachary—Zach. Pete liked it, and he always said if we had a boy he’d want to call him that, so I said I would. Zachary Peter, for him, and Jacob.’ She smiled again and held his eyes. ‘For my best friend.’
‘Wow.’ He swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘That means a lot, Em. Thank you.’
‘It’s the least I could do. I couldn’t have done this without you, Jake—any of it. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane since Pete’s cancer came back.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’ve been amazing. You’ve done incredibly well.’
‘Hardly. I’ve just got through it one day at a time, didn’t have a choice.’ She looked down at her baby, fast asleep now, and a little worried frown crossed her face. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to go back to work and leave him.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t have to worry about that now. You’ve only just had him. There’s plenty of time.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t stop me worrying about how I’ll juggle a baby and my job. I can’t just ignore the future.’
He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry about money, Em,’ he said firmly. ‘It’ll sort itself out, and if it doesn’t, I’ll help you.’
‘How? You’re already supporting Jo and Matilda. You can’t run three households, Jake, and anyway, it’s not just money, it’s my career. I’m the sole breadwinner, have been for ages, but I worked hard to get where I am and I can’t afford to neglect it.’
He dug out a smile. ‘We’ll find a way. Just concentrate on the baby. He’s the most important thing, and the only thing you need to worry about at the moment. The rest will sort itself out. In the meantime, I’ve got two post-op patients to see and then I’m done, so I’ll go and get the house ready and come back for you.’
* * *
He made up the little crib he’d used for Matilda, put flowers in his sitting room to welcome her home, and went back with the car seat from her pram to find her ready to go.
‘Here—have a cuddle while I put my cardi on,’ she said, and he put the baby seat down on the bed and took Zach from her, settling him easily in the crook of an elbow and staring down at him with an odd sensation in his chest.
‘Hello, little guy,’ he murmured, his finger tracing the line of his tiny nose while that annoying lump reappeared in his throat. ‘Gosh, you’re like your daddy.’
‘That’s what his parents said. I sent them a photo. I’m so pleased for them that they haven’t lost all of him.’
And neither had Em. He swallowed the lump again and put his feelings back where they belonged, deep below the surface.
‘Come on, then. Time to go home,’ he said, clipping the baby into the seat, but his words echoed in the quiet room and he had to remind himself that, for them at least, his house wasn’t home, and he’d do well to remember it.
CHAPTER ONE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
The following April...
THERE WAS A tap on the door of the consulting room and it opened a crack.
‘Mr Stratton? I’m sorry to interrupt but Mr Walker’s in the Park Café and he needs you there straight away.’
Jake opened the door and frowned at the receptionist.
‘So why do I need to go? I’m in the middle of an antenatal clinic—’
She beckoned him out of the room and lowered her voice. ‘He’s with your little girl. Her mother’s disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’
‘Right. Can you find my registrar, please, and ask her to take over? I need to sort this out. And tell him I’m on my way.’
His mind whirling, he apologised hastily to his patient and sprinted down the corridor to the café. He couldn’t see anything at first, but he could hear Matilda crying hysterically, and he pushed his way through a crowd of onlookers and found Ben crouched down trying to soothe her in the buggy.
‘It’s OK, Tilly, I’m here,’ he said. ‘It’s all right, darling, you’re OK. Come to Daddy.’ He undid the straps and scooped her up into his arms, her little body racked with sobs as he sat down on the nearest chair and rocked her against his shoulder.
‘Dad-dy,’ she hiccupped, burrowing into his shoulder, and he rocked and hushed her while he tried to make sense of it.
Ben sat down beside him, and he looked at him in confusion. ‘I don’t understand. Where’s Jo, and why is Matilda even here?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ben said softly. ‘Jo said she recognised my name from my badge. She told me who she was, said she’d forgotten to put a ticket on the car and could I watch Matilda for a minute, and she hasn’t come back.’
‘When was that?’ he asked, but Ben just shrugged.
‘Fifteen minutes ago? She kissed her goodbye which I didn’t really think anything of, but she looked a bit upset for some reason and when she didn’t come back I started to wonder, and then I noticed this sticking out of the buggy so I rang the clinic.’
Ben was holding out an envelope and he stared at it blankly. ‘What is it?’
‘I have no idea. It’s addressed to you.’
He took it, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, flicked it open and scanned the words in disbelief, then read it again, just to be sure.
I’m sorry to do this to you, but I can’t look after Matilda any more. It’s not that I don’t love her, I do, and I’m sorry it didn’t work between us, but I’ve met someone I really want to be with, and we’re going travelling. I’ve always wanted to do that, and I know it seems selfish, but I have to do this for me, and I know she’ll be better off with you than she would with me.
She loves you to bits, and I know how much you love her, and you can give her a better life than I’ll ever be able to. I’d like to keep in touch with her and see her when I can, but please don’t try and contact me to talk me out of it. I know you would, that’s why I couldn’t tell you to your face, but I know this is the right thing for everyone, and I’m really sorry about all the money.
Love her for me.
J
Nothing else, except a key in the envelope. Ben held it out silently, and he frowned. The key to her house? Of course. With all Tilly’s stuff in it. No doubt she’d left already—and what was that about all the money? All what money?
‘This is crazy. She can’t just walk out on Matilda. I’ll call her.’ He pulled out his phone, rang her number and got no answer. Great. He looked back at Ben.
‘I can’t get her. She’s not picking up.’
‘Do you want me to call Security in case something’s happened to her?’ Ben asked, but Jake shook his head, realising the futility of it as it started to sink in.
‘No point. She’s gone, Ben. She’s left us.’ He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s tangled, sweaty hair, his love for her overwhelming him. ‘It’s just you and me, Tils,’ he murmured, ‘but that’s OK, I’ll look after you. Daddy loves you. We’ll be OK.’ He kissed her again, and she burrowed tighter into him, her little legs tucked up against his side, arms tight around his neck.
‘You need to go home,’ Ben said softly.
‘How? I’m in the middle of a clinic, and it’s only Monday. What about the rest of the week? I can’t just walk out.’
‘Don’t worry about work, someone’ll do your clinic today and we’ll sort the rota out. Your daughter needs to come first. And I’ll get Security to locate and copy all the CCTV images of Jo from the time she arrived to the time she left. Just in case you need them for any reason in the future.’
He nodded, the implications of Jo’s actions beginning to sink in as anger took the place of shock. If she loved Matilda, as she’d said she did, then how could she just dump her like that, without talking to him first?
Because she knew he would have tried to talk her out of it. She’d been right about that. Right about him taking care of her, too, but how? How could he? He had a full-time job, with irregular hours and huge responsibilities. He couldn’t just drop everything. It wasn’t fair on his colleagues or his patients. And in any case, he had a mortgage to pay—assuming she hadn’t totally emptied his bank accounts and put him into overdraft right at the beginning of the month. Was that what she’d meant? Panic swamped him for a moment, but he fought it down.
At least Matilda was all right, but what if she hadn’t been? Jo had only left her with Ben because she’d recognised his name. If he hadn’t been there, would she still have left her? Anything could have happened to her. Someone could have taken her—
He felt a wave of nausea and swallowed hard. ‘Thank God you were here, Ben, but what if you hadn’t been? What if someone had taken her?’ he said, but Ben just shook his head.
‘Don’t go there, Jake. Just take her home,’ he said softly, so Jake took the key from him and put it on his keyring, then made a quick detour to pick up his things from his office before heading off to sort out the chaos his life had just become.
* * *
The following morning he went to her house, but it was empty apart from the landlord’s furniture and a small pile of Matilda’s things—her clothes, her toys and books, a few birthday cards and half a packet of nappies all stacked in the hall. Oh, and the landlord, who was delighted to see him.
‘She owes me two months’ rent,’ the man said bluntly. ‘I told her yesterday morning I’d call today to collect it, but she’s gone. That’s all that’s left, those things there of the little tot’s. I’m just waiting for a locksmith. Apparently she was seen leaving yesterday afternoon with the child and a man in a battered old campervan, and the neighbours said he’s been around a lot recently.’
Well, that fitted with what she’d said in her letter. Great. So not only had Jo dumped Matilda without warning, which was quite bad enough, she’d also defaulted on her rent—even though he paid her more than enough every month to cover that and her living expenses. And that was on top of her emptying his savings account yesterday morning—
‘So who are you, then?’ the landlord asked.
‘I’m Matilda’s father. I’m just here to get her stuff and I’m as much in the dark about where Jo is as you are.’
He folded his arms. ‘Well, someone’s got to pay the rent. I’ll let you off one month because I’ve got the deposit and there doesn’t seem to be any damage, but I want the rest.’
‘That’s fine, I’ll pay it,’ he said heavily. Frankly, a month’s rent was the least of his worries. Her ‘sorry about all the money’ had made him check his accounts last night and find she’d stripped his savings account—not that there had been much in it, but there was nothing now. She must have got his bank details from his phone when he’d seen her last week on Tilly’s birthday. That would teach him not to be so trusting.
Teach him a lot of things, but on the plus side she hadn’t emptied his current account which meant he had enough—just—to pay the landlord and get through the rest of the month. He should probably be thankful for small mercies, but he didn’t feel thankful. She’d no doubt sold the car as well. Well, he’d have to pay the outstanding rent, but that was it. He certainly wasn’t funding her travelling—or at least any more of it than he already inadvertently had, and he’d had to change all his passwords last night which was a real pain.
He put Matilda down and got out his phone to transfer the money to the landlord, and she toddled off, calling for her mother and looking puzzled.
‘Where Mummy?’
He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked her up again. ‘She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s had to go away so you’re going to come and live with me all the time now, and I’m not going anywhere,’ he said softly, propping her on the worktop while he dealt with the landlord, then he threw all the things Jo had left for Matilda into the bags he’d brought with him, scooped his daughter up again and walked out, seething with anger, disappointment, regret—a whole catalogue of conflicting emotions that had already kept him awake half the night.
Now all he had to do was talk to HR and work out how he was going to juggle his job and childcare commitments, but first he needed a friendly ear—and a shoulder to cry on?
No point in crying over spilt milk, even if it felt like Jo had dumped an entire dairy on his head. But the friendly ear he could definitely do with.
* * *
Emily was trying to stop Zach spreading banana everywhere when her phone rang for the second time in quick succession. She nearly didn’t answer it, but Zach had finished eating now, so she wiped her fingers and pulled the phone out of her pocket.
‘Jake, give me a second. I’m covered in banana.’
There was a muffled laugh from the other end, and she turned on the speaker and grabbed the wet wipe that Zach was stuffing in his mouth. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You have no idea how far he can spread it. So, how goes it?’
Another laugh, this time wry. ‘Not great. Look, I’m not far from you. Can I drop in and scrounge a coffee?’
‘Yeah, sure. Jake, are you OK?’
‘Not really. I’ll tell you in a minute. Stick the kettle on.’
‘Will do. Grab some milk, please? I’m almost out.’
‘OK. See you shortly.’
The phone went dead, and she stared at it, then shrugged and handed Zach a toy to play with while she cleared up the sitting room and worried about Jake.
He’d sounded odd. Sort of taut, like he was about to snap, which was so unlike him. He was always so easy-going, so relaxed and unfazed by anything. Chewing her lip, she plumped the cushions, scooped up the washing she’d been sorting, dumped it back in the basket and went back to tackle the kitchen.
She’d just finished loading the dishwasher when she heard him pull up, and she opened the front door as he got out of the car with a shopping bag in his hand. ‘That was quick,’ she began, but then she saw his expression and the words dried up in her throat.
He looked awful.
His face was a mask, the tension coming off him in waves, and she pulled him inside, put her arms around him and hugged him hard.
‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked softly, and she felt the sigh shudder through him.
‘Jo’s dumped Matilda with me—well, strictly speaking she left her in the hospital café—and she’s walked out of her life.’
Emily felt her jaw drop and she let him go and took a step back so she could read his eyes, and saw confusion and white-hot rage. ‘She what? How? Why?’
His shoulders jerked in a shrug. ‘Who knows? She’s gone travelling, of all things. She left me a note in the buggy apologising. She’s got a new man, apparently, and the landlord said they were picked up by some dude with a battered old campervan, so presumably that’s him. God knows what she’s done with the car I bought her. Sold it to fund the travelling, I expect, and she also owed rent that I had to pay, and cleaned out my savings account.’
‘That’s outrageous!’
‘Tell me about it, but that’s not what’s making me so mad. Don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m not thrilled, but it’s only money. It’s the fact that she just abandoned Matilda in the café that makes me so furious. Thank goodness Ben Walker was there. Apparently she saw his name badge and realised who he was, so she introduced herself and asked him to keep an eye on Tilly while she put a ticket on the car, and then she didn’t come back. What if he hadn’t been there, Em? Was she just going to rely on someone finding the envelope before something dreadful happened to her? What if she’d been abducted?’
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m so angry I don’t know where to start, but she said she couldn’t tell me because I’d talk her out of it and she knew this was the best thing for everyone. I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t take Matilda with her—oh, and the icing on the cake is she wants to keep in touch. Well, we’ll see about that,’ he added furiously, finally grinding to a halt.
‘Oh, Jake,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry. How is Matilda? Is she all right?’
Another shrug. ‘I suppose. A bit unsettled but she’s used to being with me so she’s not too bad—yet. How she’ll be down the line I have no idea. We’ve just come from the house and she was wandering round asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’
‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’
‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’
‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’
* * *
She took the coffee through to the sitting room where Jake was perched on the sofa staring at the floor, Matilda at his feet building a tower with stacking cups while Zach watched her intently.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, and Jake looked up and met her eyes, his own filled with a worry that he wasn’t even trying to disguise. At least the anger was gone, for now at least, but he just looked desperate and she wanted to hug him. She perched next to him and handed him his coffee and one of the gooey chocolate cookies instead.
‘That’s my second.’
‘Who’s counting? So, what are you going to do?’ she asked, keeping her voice to a low murmur, and he shrugged helplessly.
‘I don’t know. I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do. I’m on carer’s leave at the moment but that’s just crisis management and it can only be for a maximum of ten days, besides which we’re short-staffed as it is, and I don’t want to use the nursery. It seems wrong, when she’s just been abandoned by her mother. What if she thought I’d abandoned her, too? What if she hates it? And anyway, I work crazy hours. She’d practically have to live there, and what about nights when I’m on call? The only way round it is to find a full-time nanny, and they don’t grow on trees, and what the hell do I do in the meantime?’
‘I’ll come and stay,’ she said without a second thought, and it shocked him into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head, the hope that she’d seen in his troubled eyes replaced by despair.
‘No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not, I’m volunteering, and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me since Pete died, not to mention the rest of the last twenty years. It’ll get you out of a fix in the short term, give you time to think.’
‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve done nothing but think since yesterday afternoon. There isn’t an answer, Em, and this certainly isn’t it.’
‘No, not long term, of course it isn’t, but I’m still on maternity leave until the middle of June, I’m not doing anything else and how much harder can it be to look after two babies than one?’ she asked, lifting Zach up before he lunged at the plastic cups Matilda had carefully stacked and knocked them all down.
‘Matilda’s not a baby. She can be—’
‘A two-year-old?’ she asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed despairingly.
‘Yes. Exactly. And there are the practicalities, like I haven’t got a cot any longer because she’s in a bed.’
‘I’ve got a travel cot for Zach, and we can buy a double buggy from somewhere if we need to, so I can take them out. It’s not an issue, Jake, and it’s not as if we haven’t lived together before. We’re both house-trained. I’m sure we’ll survive. And you can get your life back on track and stop worrying about letting everyone down while you work out what to do next.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I want to. Please, let me help you.’
He held her eyes for the longest moment, then let out a defeated sigh and nodded. ‘OK. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end I wouldn’t let you do this, but if you’re really sure, it would be amazing. So—when are we talking about? Next week?’
She laughed. ‘I was thinking today? My fridge is all but empty, and it seems like a good time to do it.’
His mouth twitched into what could have been a smile. ‘I have to tell you my fridge isn’t a lot better, but I can soon fix that. I’ll take Matilda shopping and make the bed, and I’ll see you later, if you’re really sure?’
‘That again?’ She laughed, and he gave another crooked grin and hugged her with his free arm.
‘I love you, Em, you’re a star,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re such a good friend. I don’t know how to thank you.’
Her heart hitched. ‘You don’t need to grovel,’ she said lightly, but she wanted to curl up and cry, because he’d been amazing to her—more than a friend, really, more of a rock in her life, the only constant for the last twenty years, and especially since Pete’s terminal diagnosis.
He did love her, she knew that, and she loved him, too. He was the best friend anyone could have and she’d do anything to help him, but she realised this would help her, too, because it meant she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts from the moment Zach went down for the night to the moment he woke in the morning, and she was so sick of being alone...
‘You head on back, then, and I’ll pack our stuff and see you later—about five? Then I can give Zach supper before his bedtime so I don’t mess up his routine.’
‘Five’s fine. What does he eat?’
She laughed, her mood suddenly lighter for some reason. ‘I have no idea. It changes from minute to minute. I’ll bring stuff for him, I’ve got baby food and formula. It’s the only thing I have got. And you know me. I eat anything.’
* * *
She was early, of course.
He’d been expecting that. Em was always early. Always had been, unlike him, although he had a golden rule of never being late. Just on time.
So although he’d been shopping and made the bed, the house was still a bit chaotic because he’d brought in Matilda’s things and dumped them in the hall and they hadn’t got any further. On the plus side, he’d borrowed a double buggy and another high chair from Daisy Walker, his clinical lead’s wife, but on the downside they were in the hall as well.
She’d dropped them round on her way to pick up the older children from school, and she’d even given him a lesson in how to fold the buggy, most of which had gone clean over his head. He just hoped Emily could work it out, because he was damned if he could.
He moved it out of the way so she didn’t trip over it, opened the front door and was handed a baby.
‘Here, can you take him, I’ll empty the car,’ she said, and was only halfway down the path when Matilda tugged his jeans and frowned up at him.
‘Baby down,’ she said crossly. ‘My daddy.’
He crouched down with a soft, coaxing laugh. ‘Of course I’m your daddy, Tilly. I’m just holding Zach for Emily. Say hello to him.’
‘No.’ She turned her back on him, folded her arms and tilted her head. ‘I not.’
He stifled the smile and stood up, just as Emily came back with an armful of bags and the travel cot.
‘What’s up with her?’ she asked softly, and he rolled his eyes.
‘My daddy,’ he mouthed, and she bit her lip and shook her head.
‘Oops. Oh, well, she’ll get over it. And so will he,’ she said, taking Zach before he fell out of Jake’s arms leaning over trying to reach her.
‘Why don’t I empty the car?’ he suggested drily, and headed out of the door, leaving Matilda standing in the hall with Emily.
‘Daddy!’ she wailed, running after him, and he turned and caught her as she tripped on the step, lifting her up into his arms and holding her close as she sobbed against his neck.
His gut wrenched. ‘Hey, little one, I was only getting Emily’s things from the car,’ he said gently, stroking her hair. ‘Do you want to help me?’
She hiccupped and nodded, and he handed her a teddy that was falling out of the top of a bag, picked up the bag and Emily’s suitcase in his other hand and went back inside.
Em greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged. ‘As you said, they’ll get over it.’
He just hoped she was right, because right then none of them had a choice.
* * *
He came down from settling Matilda in bed and sorting out the travel cot to find Emily ensconced on the sofa, feeding Zach.
‘You’re still breastfeeding,’ he said gruffly, stating the obvious and floundering to a halt, the sudden wash of conflicting emotions taking him totally by surprise.
She looked up and smiled, her face tender and mellow in the light from the lamp, and his heart turned over. ‘He’s still only a baby. He isn’t ten months yet, and he’s going to be my only child, so I might as well carry on as long as he wants to. It’s only morning and evening, and it means so much to both of us.’
‘Hell, Em, you don’t have to justify it to me, I’m heartily in favour of you doing what nature intended, but you’d talked about formula milk so I was just surprised,’ he said lightly, trying to ignore his crazy reaction.
Since when had breastfeeding been erotic?
‘I’m going to put our food on. Cup of tea while it cooks?’
‘Please—decaf if you’ve got it?’
‘Of course. I have enough trouble sleeping without chucking caffeine into the mix.’
‘Do you need a hand?’
‘No, you’re all right. You stay there with Zach.’
He headed for the kitchen, trying to work out what was going on in his head. He knew what was going on in his body, and it was entirely inappropriate and out of order.
Didn’t stop it, though.
He turned on the oven, put the kettle on, braced his hands on the edge of the worktop and let his head drop.
He did not need this—this sudden and unexpected and unwelcome complication to a situation that was already complicated beyond belief. She was a widow, a vulnerable woman with a young child, putting herself out to help him. The last thing—absolutely the last thing—she needed was him turning weird on her. Protective he could cope with. Lust—no. Absolutely not.
He thrust himself away from the worktop, put the supermarket ready meal into the oven, then prepped the veg.
Not that opening a tray of pre-prepared sugar snap peas, baby corn and tenderstem broccoli took much prepping, but anything rather than go back in there while she was still feeding Zach. And that in itself was ridiculous. He spent his life surrounded by women in various stages of undress, was thoroughly familiar with their most intimate anatomy, saw new mothers breastfeeding on a daily basis. So why was he reacting like this now, and why with Emily, of all people in the world?
And there was no way—no way!—he was letting himself answer that question! It was a whole other can of worms, and he needed to get a grip. He wasn’t an adolescent exploring and exploiting his emerging sexuality, he was an adult, more than twice the age he’d been when he’d first met Emily. Surely to goodness he’d developed a little self-control and discretion in all that time?
Not to mention common decency.
With a low growl, he pulled two mugs from the cupboard, made the tea and went back in, studiously avoiding looking anywhere near her chest. Not that he could see anything, anyway. She was being incredibly discreet and she’d obviously got it down to a fine art—
‘I think there must be some kind of narcotic in breastmilk,’ she said with a smile that sent his resolutions into a tailspin. ‘It’s like he’s drugged, he’s so heavily asleep.’
He hauled his eyes off the sliver of smooth, pale skin he could see above the baby’s downy head as she tugged her top down. ‘Will you be able to sneak him into his cot, or will he wake up the minute you let go of him?’
She gave a wry laugh. ‘I’m guessing that was Matilda?’
‘Yup. Every time.’
‘Zach’s usually all right. I might go and try if you don’t think I’ll wake her?’
‘No, she should be fine. Go for it. The travel cot’s ready.’
She unravelled her legs and stood up gracefully, and he gritted his teeth and dragged his eyes off the smoothly rounded curve of her bottom as she headed through the door.
What the hell was going on with him?
He picked up his tea, cradled the mug in his hands and blew the steam away crossly.
He was better than this. If ever a woman was off limits, it was Emily, and especially now. He knew that. It was just getting his body to listen that was the difficult bit, and right now it seemed to have gone stone deaf.
CHAPTER TWO (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
JAKE WAS HUNCHED over his tea when she went back to the sitting room. He looked deep in thought, and the thoughts didn’t look happy from where she was standing.
‘Thanks for getting the travel cot ready for me, he’s gone down like a dream,’ she said, and he glanced up at her, his eyes unreadable.
‘You’re welcome. I didn’t know if you’d still want him in your room, but I thought it was better to be on the safe side as it’s a strange place. We can always move him, I’m not short of bedrooms.’
‘No, it’s fine. I keep meaning to move him out, but—I don’t know. I quite like knowing there’s someone else there with me. It wards off the self-pity a bit.’
She knew her smile was wry, and his eyes locked with hers searchingly.
‘Don’t you mean grief?’ he asked her, his voice gentle, and she shrugged.
‘Same thing, really, isn’t it? I miss Pete, but he doesn’t miss me, he can’t, and I’m sure he wouldn’t miss the pain he was in, or the dread of what was to come, or the worry about how we were going to cope without him. He’s spared all that now. It’s those left behind who have to pick up their lives and carry on, so in many ways grief is just a selfish emotion.’
‘Or an acknowledgement of the person he was, and the part he played in your life. It’s OK to grieve, Emily.’
She smiled. ‘I know, but I’ve done that. I did most of my grieving while he was still alive, because to be honest I never really dared to let myself believe he was cured when they gave him the all-clear, so when it metastasised there was a sort of horrible inevitability about it all. I think I always knew it was coming, and now it’s just juggling the things that need to be done with the lack of support and practical help. Things like cutting the hedge and putting up shelves in Zach’s room and all the other stuff that he used to do that I’m rubbish at.’
‘I’ve offered to help,’ he reminded her, but she didn’t need reminding. She dropped onto the sofa beside him, tucked her arm in his and squeezed it firmly.
‘And you have helped. You’ll never know how much you’ve helped me, Jake. I wouldn’t have got through it without you, but I need to toughen up now and get a grip. Time to return the favour, and I’m really sorry it’s because of Jo doing a runner and turning your life upside down, but I’m here, I’m not going to run out on you, and I’ll stay until you don’t need me anymore.’
She held his eyes for an age, but then something flashed through them and he turned away, as if he couldn’t look at her any longer, and shook his head.
‘I can’t ask that of you,’ he said gruffly.
‘Yes, you can—and by the way I rescued the supper. There was an interesting smell coming from the kitchen so I turned off the oven and opened the door a bit.’
He swore and leapt to his feet, and she followed him into the kitchen as he whipped open the oven door and stared into it.
‘Is it OK?’
He pulled the dish out and inspected it. ‘Debatable.’
He put it onto the hob and prodded at it with a fork, and she chuckled softly and peered over his shoulder at the bits of singed pasta sticking up out of a rather dark golden crust.
‘Will we live?’
He grunted. ‘Just about. There are one or two bits that might need ditching, but it won’t kill us.’
She tutted. ‘You’re a slow learner, Stratton. I taught you to use an oven timer twenty years ago. I would have thought you’d mastered it by now.’
He gave a low chuckle, and she slid her arms around him and rested her head against his broad, solid shoulders that were curiously comforting. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Jake. I meant what I said, I don’t know how I would have coped without you.’
She straightened up and slackened her arms, and he turned in them and gave her a brief hug, then reached for the kettle.
‘You’re welcome. Now go and drink your tea and put your feet up,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ve got to steam the veg but that won’t take long. I’ll call you when it’s ready.’
‘Don’t forget to time it,’ she said with a cheeky little wink designed to needle him, and took herself out of range before he threw something at her.
* * *
He watched her go, the feel of her still imprinted on his body, front and back, then he closed his eyes and swore softly and comprehensively under his breath.
What was wrong with him?
He plonked the pan on the hob, poured boiling water into the steamer under the veg and laid the table, then stuck his head round the door. ‘It’s ready.’
‘Good, I’m starving. So—what is this?’ she asked, poking at the slightly over-browned crust as she sat down at the table.
‘Chicken, tomato and mascarpone pasta bake. And yes, I timed the veg,’ he growled.
‘Wonders will never cease,’ she mocked, rolling her eyes, then stuck a forkful of the pasta bake in her mouth and moaned. ‘Oh, that’s really tasty. Good job I caught it in time.’
He opened his mouth to reply, and she raised both hands, her lips twitching at the corners, and he gave a soft huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. ‘Why don’t you just shut up and eat it before it’s cold?’ he said drily, and she smiled, stuck her fork into her food and then looked up at him again, her eyes almost luminous, her voice wistful.
‘You know, it’s really nice having someone to eat with, especially someone I can have a conversation with.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Zach doesn’t talk to you?’
It got a laugh out of her, although it was just a little one. ‘You know what I mean. I love him to bits, but it’s not the same as sharing a meal with an adult. It’s a long while since I’ve done that, and even longer since someone cooked for me. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said softly, grateful for the timely reminder that she’d only lost her husband less than eighteen months ago. Dragging his eyes off hers, he turned his attention firmly back to the food.
* * *
‘What time do you start tomorrow?’ she asked as he cleared the plates.
‘Seven. I need to leave at quarter to.’
‘So—will you see Matilda before you go? Does she know you’re not going to be here all day?’
He sighed and propped his hands on the worktop, defeat in every line of his body.
‘Not yet. I was going to tell her in the morning. I didn’t want her worrying all night.’ He straightened up and turned back to face her. ‘Do you think that’s the wrong thing to have done?’
She shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I have to admit to being wildly out of my depth here, but I would imagine that the loss of her mother is going to affect her. She’ll be missing her presence, the familiar surroundings—although she’s used to you and to being here, so that’s not an issue, but she doesn’t know me very well, she’s only met me a handful of times, and then there’s Zach. She wasn’t exactly overjoyed to see him and she probably won’t be thrilled at being left alone with us.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘No. I’m sure you’re right. Damn, this isn’t going to work, is it? It’s too much to expect of either of you. I should never have asked—’
‘You didn’t, but you didn’t really have a choice and we’ve already had this conversation. If you want to do something useful, you could shut up and put the kettle on. I could murder another drink before I go to bed.’
He gave a soft huff of laughter, walked over to her, pulled her to her feet and hugged her hard.
‘Thank you for helping me out, Em,’ he murmured, his head resting against hers. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re such a good woman, and the best friend I could ever ask for. I don’t know how to thank you.’
She hugged him back, suddenly and shockingly aware of him, of the blatant masculinity she’d made a life’s work of ignoring. ‘Ditto. Except you’re not a woman, obviously, but whatever.’
He laughed, and his arms dropped and he turned away.
‘So, having cleared that up, tea or coffee?’ he asked lightly, picking up the kettle, and she felt a tension ease that she hadn’t even known was there.
* * *
He was right, it wasn’t going to work.
Jake had only been out of the house half an hour and Emily was already at her wit’s end.
Matilda hated her. Or, more exactly, hated not having her father there and not having Emily’s undivided attention, either. Which meant she also hated Zach. No surprises there, then.
‘Come on, Matilda, let’s go downstairs and get some breakfast,’ she coaxed. ‘Shall we see what Daddy’s got in the cupboards?’
‘Want toast,’ she said, after Emily had finally persuaded her to come down, so she put Zach in the nearest high chair and Matilda promptly burst into tears and tugged Zach’s arm hard.
‘My chair,’ she sobbed, so Emily lifted the now crying baby out of the way and hooked over the other high chair, only of course he didn’t want to go in it now, arching his back and screaming.
Stifling a scream of her own, Emily jiggled him on her hip, found the sliced bread that she assumed Jake had got for Matilda, put two slices in because Zach would be happy with toast, too, and then tried again with the high chair once he’d calmed down.
‘There you go, baby. You stay there now, while Mummy gets your toast.’
‘You not Mummy,’ Matilda piped up, her voice wobbling.
Oh, lord. ‘I’m Zach’s mummy,’ she told her, but she was starting to recognise that mulish look that meant Matilda wasn’t having any of it. She crouched down to Matilda’s level and reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked it back out of reach, her lip quivering.
‘Not my mummy. Go ’way. Want Daddy.’
‘Daddy’s had to go to work, sweetheart. He’ll be back later, you know that, he told you he would.’
‘Want Daddy now,’ she demanded, folding her arms emphatically in a curiously adult gesture that nearly made Emily laugh.
She stifled the urge. ‘Darling, I’m sure he’d much rather be here with you, but he’s had to go to work at the hospital. There are lots of mummies there with tiny babies, and he’s got to look after them, but he’ll come home when he’s finished for the day, and he’ll be back in time to put you to bed, you’ll see.’
The toast popped up, and she crossed her fingers behind her back, straightened up and put the toast, the butter and some plates on the table then lifted Matilda into the other high chair. Her high chair.
‘Don’t want toast,’ Matilda said, folding her arms again, but the defiant little gesture wasn’t funny anymore.
None of it was funny. It was exasperating, worrying, and nothing to do with toast. It was all about controlling a situation that Matilda had been thrown into by her mother’s sudden disappearance, and all Emily could do was damage limitation. And not having breakfast wasn’t going to damage the little girl.
‘OK,’ she said easily. ‘You don’t have to have breakfast today if you don’t want to. I can eat your toast.’
She ignored Matilda for a few moments, buttering the first slice, cutting it into fingers, handing one to Zach who grabbed it with both hands and stuffed it into his mouth.
‘Mmm, yum-yum,’ she said, but Matilda just folded her arms more firmly and stropped a bit more, and Emily let her, pretty sure hunger would cut in before any harm was done.
‘Want honey on it,’ Matilda said, caving in as Emily handed Zach a second finger of toast and buttered the other slice.
‘OK. I’ll see if I can find any.’
Please, please don’t have run out and not replaced it.
There was a smear at the bottom of the jar, but—hallelujah!—a new, unopened one behind it. She twisted off the lid, dug the knife into the smooth, unblemished surface and made a wish.
No prizes for guessing what her wish was going to be, but she smeared honey on the toast, cut it into fingers like Zach’s and slid it across to Matilda.
‘Say thank you,’ she said, sure that Jake would have taught her that even if her mother hadn’t, and maybe her fairy godmother was watching over them because Matilda stuffed the first bite into her mouth and mumbled, ‘’Ank you,’ around it.
Round one to her? She certainly hoped so.
* * *
The phone rang for ages before Em answered it, and Jake was starting to worry when she eventually picked up.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked without preamble.
He heard a sigh, then a little laugh that did nothing to reassure him. ‘OK, I guess. I put Zach in the wrong high chair.’
He winced. ‘Oops. I bet that was fun. She can be such a drama queen, and she’s territorial at the best of times. You might be better taking them out, if you feel you can cope. It’s a lovely day, the fresh air’ll do them good.’
‘Great minds,’ she said with a tired chuckle. ‘I thought maybe a walk? Feed the ducks, if there are any ducks to feed?’
‘There are—there’s a little park not far away. If you turn right onto the street and walk along to the end and cross over, there’s an entrance to your left. It’s got a lovely little playground, too, as well as the duck pond, and she likes it there.’
‘OK. I’ll give it a whirl and see how I get on. I can take the double buggy since you’ve got it. At least that’s neutral territory.’
‘Ah, rats! I meant to show you how it folds and unfolds, but to be honest I’m damned if I can remember. I’ll text you Daisy’s number so you can ring her if you can’t work it out. She’ll tell you.’
He heard her laugh, but it sounded a little off kilter and he guessed her day was turning out tougher than she’d expected.
‘It’s a buggy, Jake,’ she said with exaggerated patience. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine. How’s work going?’
‘Busy. They’re very glad to have me back. Ben said to thank you for stepping in to help.’
She laughed. ‘Tell Ben I’m not doing it for him, but happy to oblige. Oops, gotta go, Zach’s in the fireplace.’
He heard a clatter and a howl before the phone cut off, and he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to imagine what might have happened. The fire tongs and poker were his most likely guess. Oh, well. Hopefully he’d just had a fright. And as for Tilly—
‘Mr Stratton, have you got a moment?’
Tilly would be fine. He slid his phone back into his pocket and went back to work, putting Emily and the children firmly out of his mind.
* * *
Three days and a thousand small obstacles later, it was obvious to both of them that Matilda needed much more of her father than she was getting. And probably less of her, Emily thought despairingly.
It all came to a head late on Friday evening, when he’d been caught up in Theatre with a tricky post-partum haemorrhage and Matilda refused to go to bed until he got home, despite all Emily’s best efforts. She wouldn’t even let her change her nappy and put her in pyjamas. She just sat on the landing and cried.
‘Want Daddy,’ she sobbed, so Emily took her downstairs to the sitting room so they could wait for him, but she was inconsolable. She didn’t want a story, she shied away from cuddles, and by the time he came home at nine Emily was on the point of phoning him.
They were in the hall by now, Matilda prostrate on the floor and still sobbing, and the moment he was through the door she scrambled up and clung to his legs, and the anguish in his eyes was awful to see.
He scooped her up, hugging her close and rocking her, and Emily went into the kitchen and left them to it, because she was sure her presence wasn’t helping. She’d been at her wit’s end all day, and seeing the little girl so distraught had been horrible, but he was home now and maybe he could calm her down.
Was it her fault? Maybe. She’d done her best to handle an impossibly difficult situation, but Matilda was only two, her mother had deserted her—how was the poor little mite supposed to react? She was just upset, but it was so hard to deal with and it was upsetting Zach, too.
It wasn’t doing a lot for her, either. She sniffed hard, swiped away the tears she hadn’t realised she’d shed and yanked open the fridge door. She’d been trying all day to find time to cook, but every time she did anything there was another incident with Tilly.
She’d bitten Zach, she’d pushed him over, she’d gone into the study and pulled all the books off the shelf—
The crying had stopped—finally—and she heard Jake’s quiet tread on the stairs as he carried her up to bed. Not that she expected it to work.
Why on earth had she volunteered to do this? It wasn’t helping anyone, especially not Matilda. Was it her fault? She didn’t know enough about Tilly—had she inadvertently upset her by doing something wrong, something Jake would never have done? How was she supposed to know?
And then there was Jake himself, her friend, the person she was helping out—or trying to, but this close proximity was stirring up feelings that had been dormant for years. She was suddenly so aware of him, of his physical presence and blindingly obvious sex appeal, but this was Jake, for goodness’ sake! She’d known him for years, he hadn’t changed, so why now? Was it just her sexuality reawakening after all this time, and if so, why pick on Jake, of all people?
She slashed at an onion, and then dropped the knife with a yelp and squeezed her finger hard. Blood leaked out and ran down her hand, and she went over to the sink, turned on the tap, stuck her finger under it and gave in to the tears that had been threatening all day.
* * *
‘Em?’
She was standing at the sink with her back to him, holding something under the running tap, and he went up behind her and squeezed her shoulders gently.
‘I’m sorry, Em. This is all my fault. I should never have agreed to you doing this—’
‘Rubbish. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s her mother’s fault. She’s a little girl—how could she just leave her? Of course she’s upset. Don’t blame yourself.’
‘That’s easy to say, but I do. Everything I do upsets her. I should be able to comfort her, but she doesn’t want me, she wants you, or her mother. And she just won’t let me comfort her. She hates me, and she hates Zach, and it’s just not working—’
He leant in closer, and then saw blood all over the sink and reached past her and turned off the tap. ‘Em, what’ve you done?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she said, and he let out a sigh, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round.
‘Let me see,’ he said gently, taking a handful of kitchen roll and resting her hand in it. ‘Let go?’
She released the pressure, and blood welled rapidly in the wound before she pressed it again with her thumb.
‘OK. Well, at least it’s a nice clean cut, not too deep, and it won’t need stitches. Just a firm dressing and it should be fine.’
She nodded, and something wet dripped on his hand. He tilted her face up and shook his head. Tears?
‘Oh, Em, don’t cry,’ he pleaded softly. ‘I don’t need two of you doing it, and Matilda’s fine now, she was just exhausted. She’s gone out like a light.’
‘She’s been crying for ages. She wouldn’t go to bed without you, I couldn’t even change her, I couldn’t do anything—’
‘Oh, Emily. Come here.’ He pulled her in against him with one arm, the other hand cradling her wounded hand in its nest of bloodied kitchen towel. He could deal with that later, he’d had far worse to worry about today, and so had she. For now, all she needed was a hug, and she turned her head into his shoulder, gave a ragged little sob and slumped against him.
It was the first time he’d seen her cry since Pete’s terminal diagnosis, when she’d just discovered she was pregnant. She hadn’t even cried at his funeral, and it was so unlike her that it gave him a real and unwelcome insight into just how bad her day must have been with the children, and he was swamped with guilt.
‘I’m sorry,’ he sighed. ‘You’re right, this isn’t working. I’ll phone Ben and tell him I can’t do it anymore. I’ll have to find another way until she’s more settled.’
‘Such as what?’ she asked, pushing herself away and swiping roughly at the tears. ‘Put her in nursery? That won’t be any better. It was just a bad day, Jake. Anyway, it’s the weekend now and you’ll be at home. Maybe that’ll help her to get used to me, to the whole situation. She just needs time to adjust.’
‘I can see that, but I’m worried about now, before she’s adjusted, if she ever does. It sounds as though today was awful for all of you, and what happens if it’s still as bad on Monday, or the day after, or the week after that? I can’t ask this of you, or Matilda. She obviously needs much more time with me than she’s getting.’
‘She does, and Zach needs me, too, but you have to work, Jake. There’s no way round it. Life costs money and something’s got to give. We all have to compromise. We just have to find a compromise that works, and in two months’ time I’m going to be in the same boat and I have no idea what I’m going to do either.’
He pressed his lips together, let out a sharp sigh and let go of her hand. ‘Here, let me dress that, then we’ll order a takeaway and sit down and talk about this calmly.’
* * *
Half an hour later her finger was dressed, she had a glass of a nicely chilled Aussie white in her hand and they were sitting down to a selection of steaming takeaway cartons, the contents mostly chosen because they were fork food.
And now she’d finally stopped wallowing in guilt and self-pity and re-engaged her brain, apparently it had come up with a brilliant idea. Now she just had to sell it to him.
‘So, I might have a solution,’ she said.
He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and gave her a sceptical look. ‘There isn’t a solution.’
‘There could be, if you’d consider a job share.’
He put the fork back down and stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘Who with? And anyway, that doesn’t help with the nights and weekends. It wouldn’t work.’
‘It might,’ she said slowly, suddenly desperate to convince him, ‘if it was with me and we shared the childcare.’
There was a second of silence while he absorbed it, then he shook his head. ‘No. I couldn’t ask you to do that, Em, especially after today. It’s not fair on you or Zach and you’ve got enough on your plate without taking us on. What I really need is a nanny, but it’ll take time to find one and I don’t have time. You’re right, she wouldn’t have been any better in a nursery. Probably worse, in fact, because she wouldn’t have been in familiar surroundings. She’s just testing you.’
‘Well, she certainly did that, but she doesn’t need me to tell her where the boundaries are, she needs you.’
‘She needs consistency, but that isn’t the point. The point is it upset you, and it’s too much to ask of you when you’ve got your own problems—and anyway, there’s no way we could job share, you live too far away.’
‘Not if I move in here,’ she said, and held her breath.
His eyes widened in surprise, and she could almost hear the cogs turning. ‘Here?’
‘Yes, here,’ she said, gesturing around her at the huge kitchen dining room that ran from front to back in his double-fronted Victorian semi. ‘Your house is massive, Jake. There’s tons of room.’
‘Em, it’s a heap. I only bought it because I thought it would make a fantastic family home, but then Jo changed her mind and I ended up running two households, so I haven’t had the money to sort it out. It’s just a millstone round my neck and if it wasn’t such a wreck I’d sell it.’
‘Rubbish, it’s a fabulous house, a fantastic family home, as you said. It just needs a lick of paint.’
He sighed. ‘It needs much more than that. It’s just tired from one end to the other. I was going to put an en suite next to the main bedroom, refit the bathroom, refit the kitchen, change the carpets, repair the roof—at the very least the whole house needs a coat of paint, and then there’s the garden which has been neglected for years—it’s endless.’
‘That’s cosmetic,’ she pointed out. ‘There’s a downstairs shower room. I could use that. And you have five bedrooms, so even if we take two, you’ll still have a spare for visitors. And there’s your study, which is big enough to be another sitting room, so we don’t even have to share that if you don’t want to.’
His brow furrowed, the worry evident in his eyes. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to share with you, Em, that’s not an issue, we were housemates for years, but we’re not at uni anymore. We’re adults, parents, and anyway, you don’t want to leave your house. You shared it with Pete for so many years, you can’t walk away from that just to help me out. You’d be giving up so much.’
She would, but she wouldn’t let herself think about that. Not now. Pete was gone, but Jake was very much alive, and he needed her. And she needed a job.
‘It’s just a house,’ she lied, ‘and believe me, my motives for suggesting it aren’t entirely selfless. I need a job as much as you do, but the reality is we both need cover for nights and weekends and random shift patterns, and that’s going to be really difficult to manage without live-in help, but if we lived here together that would solve it, and it would also mean taking a cut in salary was more viable for both of us because we’d be paying out much less in childcare and only be running one household. And it needn’t be for ever. A couple of years, maybe a little more? Five, even, and who knows where we’ll be by then? You might have met someone you want to marry, someone you love, someone who loves Matilda. But for now, it would solve both our problems. We could make it work, Jake.’
He stared at her for the longest moment, hope flaring in his eyes, and then he dug around on his plate with his fork, moved the food around, then looked back at her again searchingly.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, I am. Why not? I want a part-time job with consultant pay, and you think nannies don’t grow on trees? I’ve networked my butt off the last couple of months and there’s not a glimmer of part time or a job share anywhere in our field at the level we’re at. Well, there’s a staff grade post in Cumbria, but that’s miles from everyone I know and miles from Pete’s parents, and they have a right to share in Zach’s life. They’ve already lost their son. I can’t take their grandson to the other end of the country, it’s not fair. And in the meantime I have to earn a living and make appropriate care arrangements for my child, and so do you. Think about it, Jake. You’d be working part time, so you’d have time with Matilda, I’d have time with Zach, we’d both be working at consultant level—it’s a win-win.’
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and searched her eyes again. Goodness knows what he was looking for, but she didn’t think he’d found it because he shrugged and looked away and his eyes were bleak again, the flicker of hope she’d seen in them extinguished by defeat.
‘I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, for both of us, and we can’t make a snap decision. Come on, let’s eat this while it’s still hot. I’m starving and I didn’t get time for lunch and I can’t think clearly on an empty stomach.’
She reached out and laid a hand on his, suddenly afraid he was going to spend the rest of the night finding reasons why it couldn’t work, and for some reason she didn’t really understand she was desperate that he shouldn’t do that. ‘Just don’t dismiss it, Jake. Don’t close your mind to it. Promise me you’ll give it serious consideration.’
He nodded slowly. ‘OK. I promise. Right, food. Do you want the last of that rice, or can I have it?’
* * *
Jake stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the cracks in the Victorian plasterwork, seeking out the peeling paper at the edge by the window where the roof had leaked last year. How could he ask Em to give up her lovely home and share this place with him and Matilda? Never mind the job thing...
Enough. He needed to sleep. He turned out the light and rolled onto his side, bashing his pillow into submission, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and his mind was still churning, struggling with the concept of a job share with Em.
Could they do it? Would it work? Or would it put such an unreasonable strain on their relationship that it would destroy it? Because it wouldn’t just mean sharing the job. He’d be sharing his home, his child, his entire life with Emily. Could they honestly make it work?
He didn’t know, but sleep evaded him and he lay awake for hours turning it over and over in his mind without coming up with anything better—or anything else at all.
He knew they could live together, they were already doing it, and they were coping, even if he did spend hours every day slamming the door on his lust. They’d squabble about stuff and she’d complain about his untidiness, but there was no malice in it. But was it fair on Emily to ask her to leave the home she’d shared with Pete?
No, but then the whole situation was unfair. It wasn’t fair that Pete had died and left Emily widowed and Zach without a father. It wasn’t fair that Jo had walked out first on him and then on Matilda, and almost bled him dry in the process.
None of it was fair and they had no choice but to deal with the hand life had dealt them, but the children weren’t coping, and that was the root of the problem. Matilda didn’t really know Emily. How was she feeling being left with her every day? Not great, if today was anything to go by, but would Zach fare any better when it was the other way round? And how would he feel, looking after Zach? Looking after his own daughter, come to that?
He’d never anticipated being a full-time father, but it was just an extension of what he’d already been doing, with Zach chucked into the mix for good measure.
Could they manage to make it work, juggling the childcare between them? It was an awesome responsibility. Was he up to it? Was Emily?
He had no idea, but short of finding a nanny in the next few days he was out of options. It had to work, they had to make it work, and the first thing he was going to do tomorrow was run the idea past Ben Walker, and see what he thought of it.
He wasn’t even going to consider what he’d do if Ben said no.
CHAPTER THREE (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
BEN DIDN’T SAY NO—well, not a flat-out no, at any rate, and maybe even tending towards a yes.
He was on call that weekend and already at the hospital when Jake sent him a text at six-thirty saying he needed to talk. He rang straight back, and didn’t turn a hair when Jake suggested they meet on the benches outside the Park Café before eight on a dewy April morning. He didn’t even mind that Matilda was with him, sitting on the damp bench between them eating a little muffin from the café for her breakfast. He listened carefully without interrupting until Jake ground to a halt, then pulled a sort of ‘maybe’ face and nodded slowly.
‘Would you consider taking on a bit more? Because we could really do with a female consultant, but we also need more consultant time in general and getting someone for just one or two days a week is impossible. If you could manage another two or three sessions between you and a share of weekend and night cover, the Trust might look on it very favourably, especially if I lean on them,’ he added with a grin. ‘You’d end up overlapping for a day, but you’d probably want to anyway for continuity. The only real difficulty I can see is the night cover when you’re on call. How will you deal with that?’
‘No problem. We’ll be living together, which makes us much more flexible.’
Ben frowned, his face concerned. ‘When you say living together...?’
‘Not like that, we’re just friends,’ he said hastily.
Ben’s eyebrow quirked sceptically. ‘You’d have to be very good friends to make that work. Are you sure you know each other well enough? It’s a lot to take on, Jake, and if this job share relies on your domestic situation and it breaks down—’
‘It won’t break down,’ he said firmly. ‘We’ve house-shared before. I’ve known her for over twenty years and I can’t think of anyone else I’d contemplate doing it with. Let’s face it, we both have a very strong vested interest in making it work. And if it really got on our nerves, we could divide the house into two flats. Heaven knows it’s big enough.’
‘Well, that’s true,’ Ben said with a wry smile. ‘And how long are you thinking this would last? A year? Two? Ten? Because there are implications for your future, for your pension, for your career progression. It’s not trivial.’
‘I know. I realise that, so does Emily, but to be frank, Ben, we’d don’t have a lot of options and this is far and away the best idea we’ve come up with for either of us. Can I talk to her about the extra sessions and come back to you?’
‘Of course. What sort of start date were you thinking of?’
‘As soon as possible. I can’t mess about like this for ever, it’s not fair on you or Matilda or my patients, and Em needs an answer, too, because she’s coming to the end of her mat leave and she needs to get a job sorted soon.’
Ben gave a wry smile. ‘Good, because juggling the rota is frying my brains. Look, go and talk to her and let me know what she thinks. Obviously you’ll have to jump through all the official hoops, but nobody’s in the business of making this any more complicated than it has to be and if you want to go ahead I’ll do everything I can.’
He nodded. ‘And until then? Because yesterday was a really tough day for Emily and the kids, but I’m so conscious of letting you down if I take more time off and I’m just torn in two.’
‘Of course you are,’ Ben said quietly. ‘Anyone would be, and I do understand, but don’t worry about it. We all need this sorted out one way or another very quickly, but I’m sure it can be done, subject of course to interview and your joint proposal ticking all the necessary boxes. We’d need to be sure it would work before we could agree to it.’
He closed his eyes briefly, felt some of the tension leak away and gave a quiet laugh. ‘Of course. And thanks for being so reasonable. I’m really sorry about this.’
‘Don’t be. Stuff happens, Jake, it’s all part of life’s rich pattern. The trick is to learn to roll with the punches. Go on, take Matilda home, talk to Emily and get back to me.’
* * *
Her phone rang while she was swiping porridge from every accessible part of Zach’s high chair.
Jake. Of course.
‘You have a gift for calling me when I’m covered in gloop,’ she said drily. ‘How did it go?’
‘Well, I think. He’s going to talk to the Trust. We’re just on our way home. I’ll tell you more then.’
So it could be happening. She put the phone down and carried on wet-wiping, a funny little hitch in her chest. And not in a good way.
Ridiculous, because she had to work, she wanted to work, and this whole thing had been her idea, so from that point of view it was good, but he’d been right about her house. She already missed it, missed having her familiar things around her like a security blanket, even if she’d denied it yesterday. It wasn’t for ever, though, just until the children were a little older so they could go into full-time childcare without being irreparably damaged.
And that time would come. She couldn’t imagine Jake wanting to work part time for ever. He was too much of a career doctor to want to take a back seat, and then she could go back to her own house, or sell it and move on. There was no hurry now, though. She could let the house in the meantime and see how it went. She didn’t have to sell it and burn all her boats.
Not yet.
* * *
They took the children to the park and pushed them side by side in the baby swings while she listened to what Ben had said.
‘There’s a lot of official stuff. We’ll have to submit a joint application for the job share, outlining how we’d split the workload, and we’d both have to be interviewed so they can be sure we’ve thought it through, but in the meantime Ben’s going to run it by them because it’s an opportunity to gain a few more sessions of consultant cover each week, so actually he’s really on board with it, especially as you’re a woman. And it means we’d both earn more if we did the extra hours. Would you be up for that?’
‘Yes, I don’t see why not. It all sounds really positive,’ she said. ‘And in the meantime I can look after the children so you can get back to work at least most of the time, and we’ll just have to rub along somehow. It’ll give them time to settle into a routine, and you’ll know Tilly’s safe even if she’s not overjoyed with the situation.’
‘And if the Trust says no?’
She shrugged. ‘Then I’ll have to look for another job or go back to my old one, and you’ll have to put Tilly into childcare, but let’s just hope it doesn’t happen.’
There was a long silence, punctuated by the creak of the swings, and then he said, ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to do this, Em? Because I don’t want to set this all up and then you change your mind because it’s too big a commitment or you want your own space back—or even your old job, because it’ll be gone, so it has massive implications, especially for you. If we can do this, it’ll be great, but I want you to be absolutely sure before it goes any further because there’s no way back to where we are now, for either of us.’
She met his eyes, read the conflicting emotions of hope and concern, and shut the lid on her doubts.
‘I am sure,’ she said, to convince herself as much as him. She owed Jake so much, and if she could do this for him and make it work, it would go at least some way towards repaying him. She wouldn’t even think about failing, because it wasn’t an option. It couldn’t be.
His eyes held hers. ‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ she said, her voice firmer now. ‘If the Trust says yes, I’ll move in with you properly and let my house, but in the meantime Zach will have a chance to get used to you before I need to leave him. Don’t worry, Jake. We’ll get there.’
‘We could split the house, if you’d rather. It’s easy with the bathrooms, I’ll just use the shower room, but if you want your own floor, or a separate sitting room—’
‘I don’t. If you do, just say the word and we can sort it out, but as I’ve told you, I like the company.’ She smiled at him. ‘And sure, you’ve got a few irritating habits, but I’ll just have to turn a blind eye to those.’
‘Irritating habits?’
His voice was indignant, but his eyes were smiling, and she stretched up and kissed his cheek and felt it dimple under her lips. He smelt of soap and Jake with a hint of chocolate muffin, and there was something vaguely disturbing about it.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll soon get you trained,’ she quipped, and gave Zach’s swing another little push while she tried to work out why her heart was beating just that little bit faster.
* * *
He downloaded the job-share protocol and applications forms from the Trust intranet once the children were in bed, and after they’d finished eating they sat at the dining table scrolling through all the endless pages.
‘I hate this kind of stuff,’ he muttered, as if she was having such a great time.
‘Whereas I just love it,’ she mocked, rolling her eyes. ‘Do you have a copy of your timetable?’
‘Yeah, I’ll print it and we can squabble over who does what. And don’t even think about dumping me with all the routine gynae.’
‘It says in the protocol—’ she began, but he threw a pen at her and disappeared to the study, leaving her grinning. She’d forgotten what fun he was to be around, even when he was grumpy. Forgotten what fun was, even, but her enduring memory of their time at uni had been laughter, and Jake had been at the centre of that, always.
It seemed so long ago now...
She was just reading through Points to consider when becoming a job-sharer when he came back, dropped three copies of the timetable and a packet of highlighter pens down in front of her and opened the fridge.
‘This calls for wine,’ he said, and sat down again with two glasses, the bottle they’d started last night and a giant packet of hand-fried crisps.
‘Right. Let’s do this.’
* * *
Three hours, the entire packet of crisps and most of the bottle of wine later, they’d thrashed out a workable timetable that gave both of them what they wanted, shared out the tasks equally and wouldn’t let any of the patients down, and they’d built in capacity for another three sessions.
He sat back, let his breath out in a whoosh and gave her a high five.
‘Sorted. Now all we have to do is write a load of appropriate twaddle about how well we’ve thought it through and what makes us think it’s not going to crash and burn.’
She chuckled and stood up. ‘Not tonight. Come on, let’s watch a bit of mindless TV and go to bed. It’ll still be there tomorrow and we won’t sleep if we don’t have a break from it.’
She was talking sense, but a huge part of him wanted to sort it now, because he knew it wasn’t twaddle and Ben had made it perfectly clear how important it was.
‘I bought chocolate earlier,’ she taunted, heading for the sitting room.
‘As if we haven’t just eaten enough rubbish. What sort?’
‘Oh, it’s healthy. Fruit and nut. Two of your five a day—and it’s dark chocolate, which is positively good for you,’ she said over her shoulder, and he dropped his pen, stood up and followed her.
‘There could be disadvantages to working with someone who knows me quite so well,’ he growled, plopping down onto the sofa beside her and picking up the TV remote. ‘Hand it over, then.’
* * *
He was up at five to fill in the application form, putting his case for wanting to job share and how he saw it working for the patients in his care, and he heard the stairs creak and Emily walked in in her pyjamas, hair tousled, one cheek rosy from having slept on it.
And looking as sexy as hell.
‘Tea?’ she asked, and he nodded, his head draining of coherent thought.
‘Please. With caffeine. Why are you up?’
‘To help you? I heard you go downstairs, and I had an idea you’d be doing this while the children are still asleep.’
He gave a wry grunt. ‘Absolutely. If we can, I want to give it to Ben today for his thoughts so we’ve got time to tweak it before he puts it to the Board tomorrow. Are you OK for me to go to work tomorrow, by the way?’
‘Of course I am. I have to be. It’s the new reality, Jake.’
She filled the kettle and came and sat down next to him, the drift of warm, Emily-scented air and the crazy pyjamas doing nothing for his concentration.
‘I’m a bit worried we might have a timing problem. I have to give eight weeks’ notice if I’m not going back to my old job after mat leave, which means by the end of next week, but if I hand in my notice there and they say no to the job share here, I could end up with a break in my continuous NHS employment and have to give back my maternity pay, and I just don’t have the money.’
He stopped thinking about her pyjamas and let his breath out on a long, low whistle.
‘I hadn’t realised you were so near the end of mat leave, but you’re right, that could be tight. I’ll make sure Ben knows, but as we don’t have a female consultant or anyone wanting to do more sessions, it’s a golden opportunity for them and they’d be mad to turn us down because some women really need a female doctor. It’ll take the pressure off our female registrars, and I can think of at least one patient I’ve seen in the last week who I’d want to hand over to you for just that reason and I’m sure there are others. We just have to sound convincing.’
He sat back and stretched out his shoulders. ‘Has that kettle boiled yet? This is making my head hurt.’
* * *
He went off to see Ben later that morning, armed with their draft proposal and suggested timetable split, and she girded her loins to deal with another joyous day of tantrums from Matilda, but there were none—or at least not on the scale of her previous efforts.
Instead she ate her breakfast nicely, then lay on the floor with Zach and built a tower of cups for him to knock down, and built it again, and again, and again, and every time he knocked it down she giggled, and so did he.
Emily was stunned, and when Jake rang in the middle of it, she held the phone out so he could hear.
‘Is that Zach laughing?’
‘It’s both of them. It’s delicious. I don’t know what’s got into them, but I’m all in favour of it. Have you spoken to Ben?’
‘Yes. He’s taken it all away to read through a bit more thoroughly, but he seems more than happy. He was talking about the Board contacting your referees before they interview you, so you might want to OK that with them before tomorrow.’
‘I’ve done it—or at least the ones I could get hold of. I’ve emailed the CEO but my clinical lead’s going to have a word. He was brilliant, so supportive. They’ve been amazing to me, and I feel bad about not going back, but—I just feel this is right for both of us.’
‘You and Zach, you mean?’
‘No! You and me. Well, and the children, on current form, but I won’t hold my breath,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Any ideas what I should do with them next when this all falls apart?’
‘Matilda likes cooking. We make rock buns sometimes. It’s hard to ruin them.’
She chuckled. ‘What, even for you?’ she teased.
‘Very funny. I’m on my way, but you’ll find everything you need in the cupboard next to the fridge. Don’t eat them all before I get home.’
‘You know what? It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t I make a picnic instead and we could go to the beach? They’d love that, and maybe what we all need is some time together just having fun.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea. Want me to pick anything up?’
‘Sandwiches? I think we’ve got everything else.’
‘OK. I’ll see you shortly.’
* * *
She was right, the children had a wonderful time on the beach, and so did they.
They found a nice flat area in the shelter of a breakwater and had their picnic, then they built a sandcastle just below the high-water mark where the sand was still damp enough to stick together.
‘It needs a moat,’ Emily insisted.
‘Of course it does, why wouldn’t it?’ he said wryly, knowing what was coming, so he rolled up his jeans as high as he could and took a bucket down to the sea and got predictably drenched by a freak wave.
‘It’s not funny,’ he told her, trying not to laugh, but Matilda thought it was hilarious and little Zach joined in, and then when they’d all finished laughing at him they decided—they being Em, of course—that it would be fun to bury him in the sand.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Lie down and stop fussing. You know you want to.’
So he dug out a hollow and lay down in it obediently and let them cover him in sand. It was damper than he’d realised, though, and by the time he broke free and stood up, he was plastered in it.
‘It’ll fall off when it dries,’ Em said cheerfully, and handed him a bucket. ‘Why don’t you go and rinse your hands and feet and bring some water up so we can rinse our hands, too, and then I think it might be time to go. They’re getting tired.’
‘I’m not surprised. They’ve shifted about a ton of sand between them.’
‘They had help.’
‘I noticed,’ he said drily, but he went and fetched water, more cautiously this time, and then they cleared up all the toys and the remains of the picnic and set off.
* * *
The children were both fractious by then, so they decided to go for a walk to let them sleep in the buggy.
Zach was gone in moments and it didn’t take Matilda long to join him, so they went round the point past the sea defences and followed the sea wall along to the harbour, falling into step as they strolled along.
The sea was quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the soft slap of the waves on the shingle, the stones settling with a little whisper as the waves receded. Out at sea some gulls were wheeling over a fishing boat, and they could hear the faint putter of its engine in the distance.
‘Gosh, it’s beautiful. I can see why you love it here,’ Emily said with a sigh, and he grunted softly.
‘Jo couldn’t. She flatly refused to live here with me, even though she hadn’t said anything negative when the job came up and I started looking at houses, and then of course it was too late, I was committed to the move and there was nothing I could do about it.’
She turned her head so she could see his face. ‘Do you think she really hated it and didn’t want to live here, or didn’t want to live with you because she’d realised she didn’t love you? You’re old enough to be pragmatic, but she’s not, she’s still young enough to be dreaming of a happy ever after, which is probably why she’s gone off chasing rainbows with the dude in the campervan. And maybe you moving here just gave her an out?’
He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, dislodging the sand that had finally dried in it. ‘I have no idea. Maybe. I knew she was a bit of a hippy at heart, but I wouldn’t have said she was manipulative so I think you could be right. She was probably just out of her depth. You know she nearly didn’t have Matilda? She said at the time she wasn’t ready to be a mother, and judging by the way she walked off last week and left Tilly without a backward glance, she was right.’
‘So, what did your parents say about that?’ Em asked curiously. ‘I take it you’ve told them.’
He laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humour in it. ‘Nothing new. My mother told me it was no more than I deserved, and my father gave me another lecture on contraception and what he called my indiscriminate sexual habits—What?’ he asked, shooting her a dirty look when she laughed.
She tried to straighten her face. ‘Well, it was high time someone said it,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re a bit of an alley cat, Jake.’
‘I am not!’ Her eyebrows shot up, and he frowned. ‘Seriously, Em, I’m not, at least not anymore, and I have no idea how she got pregnant.’
‘You need me to explain?’ she said, and then stopped walking, mostly because she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.
‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ he growled.
‘So what did you mean?’ she asked when she could speak. ‘Because you can’t have been that careful or she wouldn’t have got pregnant. Was she on the Pill?’
‘No, and we were careful! We used a condom every single time, and as far as I know none of them failed—not that it’s any of your business,’ he added, glowering at her and trying not to laugh.
She wasn’t even trying. ‘Well, clearly one of them failed—or else she sabotaged you.’
‘Why would she do that?’
She fell into step beside him again, giving him a disbelieving look. ‘Oh, come on, Jake. You’re a good catch.’
‘So why didn’t she catch me? Why not insist that I marry her? God knows I offered.’
‘She didn’t need to. You were supporting her anyway, and maybe by then she’d realised she didn’t love you.’
He shook his head. ‘No, she’s not like that. She’s not organised enough to be premeditated.’
She stopped walking again and turned to look at him, thoughtful now. ‘I don’t know, Jake. She stole your money and defaulted on her rent, so she obviously planned that. And if she said it was an accident when she got pregnant, you’d believe her. Accidents happen all the time, and people get carried away in the heat of the moment and fall into bed without thinking. It has been known, and it wouldn’t be the first time you’d done it.’
She knew that all too well. She vividly remembered the time they’d come really, really close to making love...
‘Can we please stop discussing my sex life?’ he muttered, and she wondered if he was actually blushing or if it was just that he’d caught the sun.
‘Well, at least you have one. I can’t even remember what it was like,’ she said with painful honesty.
‘Ah, come on, Em, you and Pete were married for years!’
‘And most of the time he was too busy trying not to die,’ she pointed out.
All trace of laughter was gone from her voice now, and Jake stopped walking and pulled her into his arms with a ragged sigh, resting his cheek against her hair.
‘Ah, hell, I’m sorry, Em,’ he murmured apologetically. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, it’s none of my business. It must have been so tough for you both, living on a knife-edge throughout the whole of your marriage.’
She eased away from him and started walking again, somehow uncomfortable talking about Pete while she was standing in Jake’s arms. ‘Not all of it. Some of it was OK, especially after he got the all-clear, but I always knew in my bones it couldn’t last.’
‘So why did you decide to have a baby if you thought he was going to die?’ he asked, finally asking the question that must have been bugging him ever since she’d told him she was pregnant and Pete was dying.
She sighed, her shoulders lifting in a little shrug. ‘Because I thought he would live to see it. Pete had always wanted children, so had I, and my clock was ticking. He’d banked some sperm as soon as he was diagnosed, before he had the first chemo, so it was sitting there waiting, and I felt if we didn’t get on with it I’d have left it too late and missed my chance, but I never dreamt it would be over so soon for him. That was a real shock, when he went downhill so fast and I realised we’d left it too late.’
‘It must have been. Do you regret it?’
‘What, marrying Pete, or having Zach?’
‘I meant having Zach,’ he said, although he must have wondered if she’d regretted her marriage to a man she’d known was probably dying, but maybe he felt he’d been intrusive enough.
She smiled down at the sleeping baby snuggled up in the buggy, her heart filling. ‘Not for a single second. It hasn’t been easy, and I’ve often been scared that I couldn’t cope, but no, I’ve never regretted it. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, apart from you, of course, but that’s different.’
She flashed him a smile, and he reached out and took her hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let go, just kept her hand there in his as they strolled along side by side, their fingers loosely linked.
It was only when the path narrowed again that he slipped his hand out of hers to go on ahead with the buggy, and she curled her fingers tightly into her palm and felt oddly bereft.
* * *
Jake rang her on Tuesday morning to say he’d had an email inviting him for interview at nine-thirty on Thursday.
‘Gosh, that was quick.’
‘It was. Ben promised he’d hustle it. Check your emails,’ he said, but she was already doing it and her heart was racing.
‘Yes, they want to see me at ten-fifteen. And they said allow until one. Ouch.’
‘Mmm. I think that’s because they want us one at a time, and then together.’
‘Can you get the time off?’ she asked, hooking Zach out of the bottom pan drawer and sliding it shut with her leg. ‘Because taking these two to an interview could be interesting, although we’ll need cover for the joint interview anyway. What are we going to do about that?’
‘I’ll sort it with Ben—he’ll need cover, too, and I’ll talk to the nursery,’ he promised. ‘I spoke to them about Matilda the other day, and they had some capacity then, so hopefully they can squeeze them in. Right, got to go, I’m due in Theatre. In fact, why don’t you come up here and talk to the staff at the nursery anyway, because this is for Zach, too, and it might give the children a chance to get familiarised before we have to leave them there—assuming they still have space.’
‘And failing that?’
She could almost see him shrug. ‘Then I’ll ask Ben’s wife Daisy if she can help out for the interviews as a one-off. She’s lovely and Tils knows her, but in the long term we may have to find somewhere else.’
‘OK. I’ll take them up there now and see. I’ll text you the answer.’
* * *
She spent the next hour at the nursery, and although Matilda dragged her everywhere she wanted to go, she did at least explore the garden and have a go on the play equipment, and Zach seemed happy in the sandpit so long as Emily sat on the edge. Then she found the water trough, and that was it.
‘Right, Tilly, we need to go now and see the ducks,’ she said, and to her amazement Matilda shook her head.
‘No. I playing.’
She was pouring water from one container to another and getting utterly drenched, but she seemed totally content, and Emily pulled out her phone and took a picture and sent it to Jake.
Hallelujah! he texted back, and she smiled.
Hallelujah, indeed. For now, at least.
* * *
Predictably Jake rang her in his lunch break to find out more.
‘It was great,’ she told him. ‘I saw Caitlin, she said you’d spoken to her, which was really useful because I didn’t have to explain anything in front of the children.’
‘How about security?’
‘It’s excellent, and they seem to have wonderful facilities. And they have space, which is a miracle, apparently, but someone’s just left so we got lucky.’
‘What did Matilda make of it at first?’
‘She was a bit wary, but after she’d found her feet a little she loved it, and so did Jake. We played for ages, and the other children seemed happy, which was good to see. I’ve been quite worried about it because I’ve never left Zach with anyone except Pete’s parents, and that’s only been for an hour or so to have my hair cut or go to the dentist, but I don’t think I need to worry about him at all or you about Matilda.’
‘No, thanks for sending me that photo, it’s delicious.’
‘It is, but I had to drag them away. Neither of them wanted to leave. I had to bribe them with feeding the ducks.’
He chuckled. ‘Yeah, the ducks can be quite handy. Well, that’s brilliant. Thanks. So are we all set for Thursday?’
‘Yes—except I need to go home this evening and grab something to wear for my interview that might not be a total disgrace. I can do that after you get home once they’re in bed.’
‘OK. I’ll try not to be late.’
* * *
It was only a flying visit to collect some clothes, because all she’d brought with her was a few pairs of jeans and an armful of tops, and that wasn’t going to impress anyone. Not that she had much at home to choose from that would still fit her since she’d had Zach, but there had to be something.
She parked on the drive, went in and shut the front door, and then stood for a second while the silence closed in around her. She realised it was the first time she’d been alone in the house since Zach was born, and it felt odd. Odd, and strangely unsettling. And, to her surprise, although the house she’d shared with Pete for so long was familiar, it didn’t feel like home. It just felt wrong somehow, so she raided her wardrobe and left without lingering.
‘That was quick. Did you find what you wanted?’ Jake asked her when she got home—home?—and she nodded, going into the sitting room and perching on the arm of the sofa.
‘Yes, I suppose so. It’ll do.’ She frowned at the television. ‘Are you seriously watching Titanic?’
‘Oh, I was just killing time till you got back, really. There’s not much on.’
‘Titanic made you cry.’
‘It made you cry, too, if I remember rightly,’ he reminded her drily.
‘Surely not.’ She peered at the bag beside him. ‘Is that popcorn?’
‘It might be.’
She felt her mouth twitch and bit her lips to trap the smart retort. ‘What flavour?’
‘Wasabi and ginger.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding,’ she said, and his eyes crinkled.
‘I’m not, they do make it, but it’s salted caramel.’
She couldn’t help the laugh. ‘I knew you wouldn’t eat anything that weird. Give me five seconds to change and I’ll be back. I’ll have tea, please—and don’t finish the popcorn!’
She ran upstairs, grinning and ignoring the muttering she left behind, and by the time she was back in her PJs there were two mugs of tea steaming on the coffee table, Titanic paused on the television and Jake with his hand back in the bag of popcorn.
‘Hey, get out of that, we’re sharing, remember?’ she said, dropping down on the sofa beside him and reaching for the bag.
‘Say please.’ He held it out of reach, laughing, and she lunged across him, trying to make a grab for it and digging her elbow into his ribs by accident.
‘Ouch! Get off me!’ He laughed, holding the bag further out of reach, but she made another lunge for it and grabbed it victoriously, and their eyes met and something weird happened.
They froze, eyes locked, and for a paralysing second she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he removed his hand from the bag and looked away, and she retreated hastily into the corner with the popcorn, wondering if her cheeks were as red as they felt, and he picked up the remote without a word and restarted the movie.
* * *
‘Popcorn?’
What, and risk another highly charged wrestling match? He’d only just got his body back under control. But the bag was just there, so he dug into it and took a handful.
‘I hate this bit,’ she said, when the ship started to list and fill with water, and she wriggled up against his side, her hand tucked through his arm as if nothing had happened.
Another layer of torment? He could still feel the warm softness of her body under his hands, feel the silk of her skin, smell the scent of her as she’d squirmed giggling against him.
How was he supposed to feel? To act? She might be just a friend, but she was a beautiful woman. Of course he’d noticed, but apart from that embarrassing blip fifteen years ago he’d spent twenty years ignoring it, keeping the lid firmly on the box.
And she’d either done the same, which he doubted because she frankly wasn’t that good at hiding her feelings, or she’d genuinely felt nothing more for him than friendship. Well, not in that way, anyhow, and even if she did there was no way he was ripping the lid off the box at this point in their relationship, not with so much riding on it.
He felt her head settle on his shoulder, then after a few minutes, as the story came to its inescapable and heartrending end, her grip on his arm tightened reflexively and he heard a tiny, stifled sniff.
‘You’re a softie, do you know that?’ he said, resting his head against hers, and she pulled away and sniffed harder, grabbing the remote from the table and turning the television off.
‘You’re such a hypocrite. You snivelled just as much as me in the cinema.’
‘I was nineteen, and anyway, it’s sad!’
‘You were a softie,’ she told him, swivelling round to look at him. ‘And you still are!’
‘I am not!’
‘So what’s this?’ she asked victoriously, lifting her hand and touching a finger to the outer corner of his eye. She lifted it to her lips, flicking her tongue out to taste it, and he stifled a groan. ‘Tears, Stratton! Actual, real tears! So don’t you go giving me grief!’
She was just there, mere inches away, hands on her hips and laughing at him while her eyes still sparkled with her own tears, and the urge to lean in and kiss that sassy smile off her face nearly finished him.
But not quite.
He took her by the shoulders, eased her away from him and stood up, sending a shower of popcorn crumbs onto the carpet. ‘Right, enough nonsense, it’s time for bed,’ he said briskly. ‘I’ve got a long day tomorrow, and we need to rehearse our interview technique in the evening.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really. Come on. Bedtime.’
He reached out a hand and hauled her to her feet, then just because he couldn’t help himself he reeled her in and hugged her.
Just briefly, just enough to mess with his dreams, but they were probably going to be X-rated anyway after that wrestling match over the popcorn. Dammit. He let her go, screwed up the empty bag and picked up the mugs as she headed for the stairs.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said, and flicked off the light and went into the kitchen for a quiet moment alone to gather his ragged composure and have a stern word with his heart, because the tears she’d seen in his eyes had had nothing to do with the film and everything to do with his feelings for a woman he couldn’t allow himself to love.
Not if this job share was going to stand the slightest chance of working.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u41ba6c35-1f6e-5acb-8cfd-76d30ce6e05d)
THEY SPENT WEDNESDAY evening interviewing each other, thinking up all the horrible questions they could be asked and trying to answer them coherently.
How would they divide their time? What if it didn’t work? How about sick leave, holidays—would they cover for each other on an overtime basis? Did they have an agreement to share the tasks equally and equitably? What if one of them wanted out? Medical questions, too, because Nick Jarvis, the husband of Liv who’d delivered Zach, had been grilled by Ben when he’d come back to work here the year before and he’d warned them not to expect Ben to play nice.
‘Enough!’ she said, jumping to her feet and clutching her hair when midnight was looming and her head was ready to explode. ‘If we don’t stop talking about this, I’m going to be awake all night and I won’t be able to string two words together. It’s bad enough that I’m going to look like a bag lady.’
He started to laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Why will you look like a bag lady?’
‘Why? Because none of my decent clothes fit me properly now—and I can’t even remember when I last wore a skirt.’
‘So wear trousers.’
‘I can’t get into them either, they won’t do up because I’ve changed shape and put on weight. The only thing I can get into is a stretchy pencil skirt I had when I was first pregnant, and a jacket that won’t quite meet. And frankly, Jake, that’s not adequate!’
He laughed again, but his eyes were tender and made her feel strange. ‘Em, you’re gorgeous. You couldn’t look like a bag lady if you tried—’
‘Don’t patronise me! I don’t look gorgeous, and I certainly don’t look professional. At the outside I’ll get by.’
‘Hey, you’ll be fine,’ he assured her, serious now. ‘They want to talk to you about the job, not check out your dress sense.’
She growled under her breath. ‘It’s not about them, it’s about me. I need to feel professional and well presented to give me confidence, and I’ve worn nothing but stretchy skinny jeans and baggy tops covered in baby goo for the last nine months!’
‘Oh, Em.’ He laughed softly, and getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. His chest was broad and solid, and the scent of his skin drifted over her, warm and familiar and oddly disturbing.
‘You’ll be great,’ he murmured, his low voice rumbling in his chest beneath her ear and adding to the disturbing sensations. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be fine, you’ll wow them. Now go to bed. I’ll wake you in the morning so you’ve got time to get showered before I have to leave, OK?’
‘OK.’
He let her go, the warm, safe embrace broken, and she kissed his cheek and went up to bed, too tired to worry any more. What would be would be, and worrying wasn’t going to make a blind bit of difference.
* * *
Jake watched her go, then stared sightlessly out of the window into the night.
He hoped he’d managed to reassure her, but there was nobody to reassure him, and so much—so much—was hanging on these interviews.
Tomorrow had the potential to change the entire course of his life. He just hoped it would be for the better—for all of them.
His mind churning, he tidied up the kitchen, turned out the lights and went upstairs. Her bedroom door was open, the light on, and as he walked past it to check on Matilda he saw her sitting up in bed in those cute pyjamas that made him think of things he had no business thinking about.
And it didn’t help that she was feeding Zach.
She patted the mattress beside her, and he went in and perched on the edge of the bed.
‘What’s up?’
‘I’m just nervous. It will be all right, won’t it?’ she asked, a worried frown puckering her forehead. ‘It has to be.’
He shrugged. ‘I hope so. We’re well prepared. We can’t do any more than we have.’
‘No, I guess not.’
She eased the sleepy baby off her nipple, and he looked away hastily, his eyes falling instead on a small double picture frame on her bedside table.
‘Could you hold him for me, please? I need the bathroom and then I need to change his nappy.’
‘Sure.’ He stood up and took Zach from her, his eyes drawn again to the photos under the bedside light as she left the room.
They were both pictures of Em and Pete, but they were very different. The first had been taken on their wedding day, laughter shining in their eyes; the second looked like a selfie, with her propped up beside him on a bed, Pete holding something on his chest. He peered closer, and the little blur became clear.
‘Oh, Em,’ he breathed, emotion clogging his throat. The only image Pete would ever see of his son, his twelve-week scan photo, was resting on his heart. Em must have been taken the selfie on the day of the scan, less than a week before Pete died.
He stared at it silently, the image blurring. It was so cruel, so unfair. He’d promised Pete on his deathbed that he’d look after Emily and the baby and keep them safe, and he said it again now, his mouth moving silently as Emily came back into the room.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking the now sleeping baby from his arms. She put him down on the bed, then turned back to Jake as he stood up and slipped her arms round him and rested her head on his chest with a sigh.
‘We will be OK, won’t we, Jake? We can do this, can’t we?’
He dragged his eyes off the photo and tried to stop thinking about the feel of her body against his. ‘Of course we can, and it’ll all be fine, one way or another. Go on, go to bed, get some sleep.’
Her arms tightened briefly and then, as if the hug wasn’t enough to finish him off, she tilted her head and touched her lips to his cheek. Her scent curled around him, the soft touch of her skin, the warmth of her lips, the fullness of her body pressed against him not helping at all.
He dropped his arms and stepped back, blew the sleeping baby a kiss and walked to the door. As he turned to shut it, the photo caught his gaze again.
He closed the door, checked Matilda and went into his own room, shutting the door firmly between him and temptation.
What on earth had he let himself in for? And he’d told Emily to be sure she was doing the right thing? If it hadn’t been for his promise to Pete, he’d tell Emily he couldn’t do this and he’d find another way, but he couldn’t, because he’d promised to look after her and her baby, and she needed this job share every bit as much as he did. He’d just have to grit his teeth and get on with it.
Assuming they got the job share, which they wouldn’t if he didn’t get some sleep so he could think straight tomorrow.
But sleep was a long time coming, because every time he closed his eyes he saw the haunting image of a dying man, chiding him for his hypocrisy.
* * *
Nick had been right.
The interviews were thorough, rigorous and didn’t cut either of them any slack, but somehow they got through them, and after the joint interview they were sent out so the board could discuss the results.
There was a small waiting area with chairs grouped around a low table with a pile of magazines on it, and as they sat there Emily rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.
‘I hope I didn’t let you down,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t know what they wanted from me half the time. I probably talked rubbish.’
He slid his arm round her shoulders and hugged her. ‘It can’t have been any worse than mine, and I thought we did all right in the joint interview.’
‘By a miracle.’
‘Well, maybe we’re due one,’ he said, the photo of Pete on her bedside table all too clear in his mind.
‘Hope so. A lot depends on it. I spoke to Pete’s parents while you were in there, they said if the children didn’t get on at nursery they’d have them on Wednesdays for us.’
‘Wow. That’s a big commitment.’ Not one his own parents would be able or willing to make, he knew that. They’d made their feelings perfectly clear and had very little time for him or their granddaughter.
She shrugged. ‘They’re lovely people, and I think they’d like it, but they live on the other side of Bury St Edmunds and it’s a long way. Further now than it was, so it isn’t really feasible.’
‘Let’s wait and see. It may not even be necessary—oh, here we go. Chin up.’
He retrieved his arm as the boardroom door opened, his legs suddenly like jelly as he got to his feet, but Ben was smiling as he beckoned them in and the CEO told them that their application had been successful and the job share was theirs.
‘We were very impressed with the amount of thought you’d both put into it, and the meticulous planning of your schedule, and also your willingness to be flexible and add extra time. So if you want to go ahead, I’ll inform HR and they can start working on the contracts, and we look forward to welcoming Mrs Cardew to the hospital.’
‘Thank you—that’s amazing,’ he said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and beside him he heard Emily sniff and let out what might have been a sob of laughter.
‘Wow. Thank you—thank you so much,’ she said, her voice wobbling a little. ‘I won’t let you down. We won’t let you down.’
* * *
She waited until they were out of the room and walking along the corridor before she let out a tiny whoop and hugged him. ‘Yessss! We did it!’
‘We did,’ Jake said with a laugh, hugging her back, ‘and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we grab a really quick lunch? I’m in Theatre this afternoon and I ought to go and see my patients first, but I’ve got half an hour. Are you OK to pick up the children without me afterwards and talk to the nursery about having them every Wednesday?’
‘Yes, of course I am—and definitely yes to lunch,’ she added, suddenly aware that she was shaking all over. ‘I think my blood sugar’s a bit low. I couldn’t eat breakfast and I’m starving.’
‘Me, too. We’ll go to the Park Café and get a sandwich and a coffee. We can celebrate properly later.’
They walked into the café and he headed for the grab-and-go chiller. ‘Are you sure a sandwich and coffee’s OK?’
‘Of course it is,’ she said, and took a sandwich out of the chiller, just as one of the café staff hailed Jake from behind the counter.
‘Hello, Mr Stratton. How’s your little girl? I felt so sorry for her. Is she all right?’ the woman asked, and Emily realised that this must be where Jo had left Matilda, in the middle of this busy café right off the main hospital thoroughfare where anyone could walk in.
‘She’s fine, Sue, thank you,’ Jake was saying. ‘She’s doing well and we’re all sorted.’
‘Oh, good, I am glad. Cappuccino with an extra shot?’
‘Please, and a decaf cappuccino, as well.’
He added a bar of chocolate and paid the bill, and they headed out through a set of doors that led to an outside seating area.
There was an open barrier around the outside, just a few low screens to indicate the café area, but beyond it was the park, which was open to the public and without any security, and Jo had left Matilda here? She was even more appalled. Compared to the security of the nursery, this was terrifying—
‘I can’t believe it she left her here,’ she said, shocked. ‘What if Ben hadn’t been there? Anybody could have wandered in off the park and just wheeled her away, and who would have stopped them? No wonder you were so angry!’
He nodded. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I know. She could have just brought her up to Maternity, where she would have been safe. Maybe she would have done if Ben hadn’t been there, but she should have spoken to me, handed her over, done it properly, not just dumped her like she dumps everything when she realises it’s not what she thought it was going to be.
‘That was exactly what she did with me when she changed her mind and decided she didn’t like Yoxburgh after all and didn’t want to live here. Too cold, too windy, too far from her friends. And apparently I was too obsessed with my job, which I can understand, and you’re probably right about her holding out for happy ever after, but—to leave your own daughter like that? I could never do that, and for the life of me I can’t imagine what I saw in her.’
She smiled wryly at him. ‘It’s not rocket science, Jake. You were lonely, and she was there. And I’ve seen photos, she’s lovely.’
‘No. No, you’re lovely,’ he said emphatically—so emphatically that she felt her eyes widen. ‘Honest and straightforward, decent, kind, thoughtful, considerate, and you’ll put yourself out for a friend.’
‘Well, of course I would—’
‘No, not of course. Not like you have. For God’s sake, Emily, you’ve just given up everything to help me. That wouldn’t have occurred to Jo. Sure, she’s pretty, but she can’t commit to anything, not even her own daughter, and as soon as the going gets tough, she’s off. I don’t suppose she even stopped to work out how I was going to juggle caring for Matilda with earning a living so I could put a roof over her head. She just—went.’
‘Did you ever look at the CCTV?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Ben got them to create a copy of the recordings, just in case I want to take her to court, but as I don’t have a way of doing that it doesn’t seem relevant, and anyway, I haven’t exactly had time. Besides, what’s it going to tell me? Nothing I don’t already know.’
‘No, I guess not. I’m so sorry it didn’t work for you.’
He threw her a bitter smile. ‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault I had such a massive error of judgement, but Matilda’s fine and so am I, and thanks to you and this job share I can see light at the end of the tunnel. And for what it’s worth, you’re beautiful. Right, coronation chicken, BLT or half each?’
* * *
The doorbell rang at eight that evening, and it was Ben, with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of Prosecco.
‘Just to say well done and to welcome you to the team,’ he said, kissing Emily’s cheek.
‘Are you sure it’s not to apologise for grilling us like kippers in the interviews?’ Jake asked drily from behind her, but Ben just shrugged.
‘Got to be done,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘and you both came out of it very well, so I wouldn’t let it worry you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up, I just wanted to give you these. And Daisy says if you’re ever at a loose end, either of you, she’s always looking for another adult to talk to, so give her a call and you can have a play-date with the children. And she does mean it.’
‘I might well do that,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve heard so much about her. And thank you, for the flowers and the Prosecco, but most of all for doing so much to make this happen. We’re both really grateful.’
‘My pleasure. I should give you a guided tour of the hospital, really.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve sort of had one. Don’t forget I road-tested the facilities when I had Zach, so it’s not a totally unknown quantity. And I’m sure Jake’ll help me find my feet.’
‘I’m sure he will. And I really hope this works for you both, because you’ve obviously thought it through very thoroughly, so it deserves to. And any problems, any time, my door’s always open. And I mean that. If you need help, ask.’
He kissed her cheek again, shook hands with Jake and went out, and Jake looked from her to the Prosecco.
‘Shall we celebrate?’ he asked, and she thought of all the things she’d given up—her job, her friends, her house...
No, not her friends. Jake was and always had been the only friend who really mattered to her. And the house wasn’t hers, either, it was hers and Pete’s. It had felt like a prison at times, but it had also been her sanctuary and she’d thought losing it would be hard, but when she’d gone there the other night it hadn’t felt like home any more, as if that part of her life was done.
And this—this was her new life, here with Jake and yet not with him. It was odd, unsettling, a little confusing, but it wasn’t for ever and Jake was making sacrifices, too. It wasn’t a one-way street—
‘Em?’
Putting the negatives aside and concentrating on the very many positives, she looked into Jake’s serious, searching eyes and found a smile.
‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, let’s celebrate.’
He popped the cork, poured two glasses and handed her one. ‘To the future,’ he said, and she lifted her glass.
‘To the future,’ she echoed, and shut the door firmly on the past.
* * *
It took until the end of the following week to sort out the contracts and shuffle patient appointments to accommodate their new arrangement, and in that time Jake moved all his stuff from the bathroom to the downstairs shower room, decorated the bathroom and started on the room that would be Zach’s, ready for him to move into.
It was just a quick coat of paint, but it made him feel slightly better about the sacrifices Em was having to make.
‘You don’t have to do this for me,’ she said, bringing him tea after she’d fed Zach and settled him for the night.
‘Yes, I do.’ He put the brush down, got off the ladder and took the mug from her. ‘I want you to feel at home, and I’ve been in your home, and it’s beautiful, and this place is a mess.’
‘It’s a glorious mess. Our house is dull in comparison.’
Our house.
He looked away. ‘I didn’t think it was dull. I thought it was lovely.’
‘It is, but it hasn’t got the high ceilings or the original fireplaces or any of the other things the Victorians were so good at.’
‘What, like the rattling windows and the leaky roof and the fact that the floor’s slightly wonky in the kitchen because the back of the house has sunk?’
She grinned at him. ‘It’s all part of its charm.’
He snorted. ‘It’s nearly summer, Em. You wait till the winter. You might want to reassess when the wind’s shrieking off the North Sea and pouring in round the edges of the window frames.’
‘Oh, you paint such a glorious picture! We can wear thick jumpers and snuggle up under fleecy blankets. And anyway, fresh air’s good for you. So, what can I do?’
‘Keep me company,’ he said, trying not to think about snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket. ‘Cutting in round the edge is boring.’
‘Want me to roller the walls?’
‘Be my guest,’ he said, so she joined in and they finished Zach’s bedroom together, and all the time he reminded himself that it should have been Pete doing it. Pete painting their baby’s bedroom with her. Pete snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket—
‘Right, we’re done. I’m going to wash this lot before the paint ruins them.’
‘Want a hand?’
‘No, you’re all right,’ he said, suddenly feeling the need for space, because it was beginning to dawn on him that, for the next several years at least, he was going to be sharing every detail of his house, his work, his life with another man’s woman.
The woman he loved, he finally admitted to himself. The only woman he’d ever really loved, the woman he wanted with all his heart. How the hell had it taken him so long to work out how much she meant to him? All those wasted years—and now he’d be living and working alongside her, with her and yet not with her, and it was going to be way, way tougher than he’d realised...
* * *
The contracts signed, they went to her house that weekend before she started work on the Monday, and while the children played on the floor with Zach’s toys, Jake dismantled the cot and loaded it into his car, together with all Zach’s clothes and toys and all the baby equipment she hadn’t already taken over there. While he did that she packed up all the food in the kitchen, throwing out the dregs of packets, the oddments of jam and chutney in the fridge, the last few bags of green tea that had been all Pete would drink in his last days, lurking in the back of the cupboard behind some out-of-date coffee beans.
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Caroline Anderson и Amy Ruttan
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Bound By Their Babies: Bound by Their Babies, электронная книга авторов Caroline Anderson и Amy Ruttan на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы