Buch lesen: «Single Dad In Her Stocking»

CHAPTER ONE

‘OH, NO...YOU can’t be serious.’

‘I’m so sorry, Dr Cunningham, but there it is. I’m sure you understand that acute appendicitis isn’t something we can plan for. We’re doing our very best to find someone else to fill the position but, realistically, that’s not going to happen until after New Year. People want to be with their families over the festive season and...it’s such late notice. It’s the twentieth of December, for heaven’s sake. Christmas is only a few days away, you know.’

Of course he knew. There was tinsel in all sorts of odd places in his emergency department here at the Cheltenham Royal Hospital and there was a small Christmas tree in the waiting room. Some staff members had taken to wearing earrings that had flashing lights or headbands with reindeer antlers or little red hats with pompoms attached and he kept hearing people humming Christmas carols. They’d even had a man in a Santa suit come in by ambulance earlier today after suffering a suspected heart attack as he coped with all those small people wanting to sit on his knee and have their photographs taken in the town’s largest department store.

And, of course, he knew that people wanted to be with their families. Or felt obliged to be. It was precisely the reason why Max Cunningham always worked right through the holiday season to make sure as many people as possible in his department could have time at home with their loved ones. He’d done it for so many years now he was quite comfortable ignoring the commercial hype that tried to make it compulsory for happy families to gather and have an over-the-top celebration as they enjoyed each other’s company. It was as much of a myth as Santa Claus as far as he was concerned—or it was for the Cunningham family, at any rate.

Everybody knew that. He could just imagine how much of a field day any gossips of Upper Barnsley would have when the news of a third December tragedy to hit the Cunningham family filtered out. Talk about history repeating itself.

It’s struck again, they’d probably say. The Christmas Curse of the Cunninghams...

He’d been too young to do anything but cope the first time when his mother had died. Last time had been gutting when he’d lost his only brother but he’d got through it. Somehow. Life had gone back to normal. But this year was different. This year, his entire world was being tipped upside down and the phone call he’d just taken meant that Max could expect even more disruption. So much more, he wasn’t at all sure he knew what to do about it and feeling less than confident was as new and uncomfortable a sensation as any of the changes that were about to happen in his life. Nothing was ever going to go back to normal now, was it?

‘Hey...it can’t be that bad.’ The Royal’s senior nurse in the emergency department, Miriam, came into Max’s office. ‘Here, have a chocolate. I thought I’d bring you one before they all got scoffed by those gannets in the staffroom. Look, how cute are these? Like little plum puddings.’

Max shook his head. ‘No, thanks. I’m not really in the mood for chocolate. I’ve got a bit of a problem, to be honest.’

Miriam’s face creased in sympathy. ‘I did hear that something was going on. To do with your brother? And his children...?’

‘My brother Andy died just over a year ago. A car accident.’ It was a testament to how Max managed to keep his private life private that nobody here was aware of the full story but Miriam was trustworthy—the kind of motherly type that inspired confidence from both her patients and her colleagues. A great listener, too, with enough life experience to offer sage advice in almost any situation. Max could do with some advice.

‘It was his wife, this time,’ he added. ‘Or, I should say, his ex-wife. I haven’t seen his children since his funeral. I didn’t even know that there was a third one.’

‘Oh?’ Miriam’s eyebrows rose as she sank into the chair in front of Max’s desk. ‘Why ever not?’

Max sighed. ‘His marriage had broken down and he was dealing with difficult custody issues. He didn’t know that his wife was pregnant when she left and she obviously wasn’t too keen to keep in touch with the rest of his family after he died. She moved all the way up to somewhere north of Glasgow.’

‘And she’s the one who’s just died?’

‘Yes. She was taking the oldest one to school. Ben. He’s six. Icy road and an elderly driver must have panicked when he went into a skid and put his foot down on the accelerator. She managed to shove the baby’s pushchair out of the way but got killed instantly herself. There was an elderly aunt or someone who made funeral arrangements but she couldn’t take care of the children. They were all put into foster care while they tried to track down any other family.’

‘And you’re the children’s guardian?’

‘So it would seem. Maybe it was a legal document that got overlooked in the separation and then Andy died so a formal divorce never happened. It’s a good thing. It would have been appalling if Andy’s kids had been left in foster care when they’ve got an uncle and grandfather who are quite willing and able to take care of them.’

Well...being willing was one thing. Being able could prove to be a lot harder.

‘Your dad’s the GP in Upper Barnsley, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. And he lives in a house that’s ridiculously big for one person, but the house has been in the family for generations and he says the only way he’s leaving it is feet first when they carry out his dead body.’ Max found a smile. ‘That’s also a good thing because there’s plenty of room for the children. His housekeeper is happy to help out a bit more than doing her usual weekly shop and clean and I’d made arrangements for a live-in nanny who was going to get here tomorrow, in time for when the children arrive.’

‘Sounds like you’ve got things well under control.’

Max rubbed at his jaw. ‘I thought I had. But I’ve just had a call from the agency and the nanny got rushed into hospital a couple of hours ago with acute appendicitis. She’s probably on an operating table as we speak...and they have no one else available until after New Year.’

‘Oh...no...’ Miriam’s despairing tone was an exact echo of the one he’d used on receiving that news. ‘I wish I could offer to help but I’ve got family coming from all over the country this year. Christmas dinner for fourteen people and I’ve only got one day off to do the rest of the grocery shopping. It’s going to be a bit of a nightmare.’ But the older woman’s smile suggested that she was rather looking forward to the chaos.

‘I do have an idea, though,’ she added a moment later.

Max was open to any ideas because he had none of his own. He could even feel an edge of panic hovering—as if he was about to go into a skid that he wouldn’t be able to control—like the unfortunate one that had killed his ex-sister-in-law a few weeks ago. Who was going to get injured by this one? Himself or his father? His nieces or nephew? He was about to become the father figure to children who had suffered unimaginable loss of both their parents and their home. Their whole world. Was he about to stumble at the first hurdle of this new journey? No...he couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘What’s your idea?’ he asked.

‘There’s an agency we’ve used before. London Locums. They’re a specialist medical recruitment agency and they might be worth a try even with such short notice and at such a difficult time of the year. I could ring them if you like?’

‘But I need a nanny, not a locum doctor.’

Miriam’s smile was gentle. ‘Don’t you think it would be better for those poor children to have family looking after them instead of strangers? Why not get a locum to cover you? That way, you could be with the children to help them settle in. They must be so scared by all the changes happening around them.’

Max swallowed hard. He was a bit scared himself, to be honest. It wasn’t that he didn’t like children. He had enjoyed being an uncle and welcoming his brother’s first two children into the world and he got on very well with the small people who came through the doors of his emergency department. He just hadn’t ever planned to have any of his own.

Ever.

The disintegration of his own happiness when he was a child, after losing his mother—the sun of their family universe—had left an indelible stain. He had watched his father grapple with a sadness that meant he had no resources to provide for the emotional needs of two young boys and it had been Max who had tried to help his younger brother. That the sadness had morphed into a lasting depression that his father would never admit to or seek help for had cemented the deeply absorbed knowledge that the fallout of a family breaking apart for whatever reason was simply not worth the risk.

Max Cunningham had finally discovered the delicious balance of his passion for working hard and as brilliantly as possible with playing just as hard outside of work hours and that time almost always included a beautiful woman as a playmate. Max was confident that he had honed his skills in making a woman feel very, very special but only for a limited amount of time, of course. He wasn’t ever going to get caught in the trap of having his happiness depend on a family, only to have his world destroyed. If his own childhood memories hadn’t been enough, his brother’s death last year had more than reinforced his belief that the risk was far too great. He hadn’t ever intended to be responsible for the happiness of others either, by trying to create and protect the safety of a family unit or to patch up the fragments of a world that had been irreparably broken.

But, here he was, about to attempt exactly that and the responsibilities about to land on his doorstep were more than daunting. Who knew how traumatised these children already were? The girls might be too young to remember losing their father last year but little Ben was six and maybe he was already trying to wear the mantle of the oldest child and look after his siblings and Max knew how hard that could be. And Miriam was right. The children had been in the care of total strangers since they’d lost their mother and that wasn’t acceptable. Max might think his world was being upended but for his nephew and nieces the only world they knew had just vanished for ever.

‘And it’s Christmas,’ Miriam added softly, as she got to her feet—as if that settled the matter. ‘They’re family. And they need you.’

‘Emma?’

‘Hi, Julie.’ Emma Moretti paused beneath the bare branches of trees in London’s Hyde Park as she answered her phone, watching a squirrel race up the trunk of the nearest tree. ‘I hope you’ve got some good news for me?’

Julie was the manager of London Locums, the specialist medical recruitment agency that Emma had been employed by for the last few years.

‘You’re not going to believe it. After telling you there was absolutely nothing on the books for the Christmas period, I just got a call from someone at the Royal in Cheltenham. They’re desperate for someone to take over from their emergency department HOD. Seems he’s got some family crisis happening until some time in early January.’

‘ED? My favourite.’ Emma’s outward breath was almost a sigh of relief. She was desperate to get out of London for a few days. At least until Christmas was over. There were too many memories here and it felt harder this year, for some reason. Maybe she hadn’t got past things as well as she thought she had. Or maybe it was because, at thirty-six, her last birthday had reminded her that the window of opportunity for having the family she’d always dreamt of was beginning to close. Worse, she still wasn’t sure she was ready to do something proactive about that. Even after nearly five years, she hadn’t ever given serious thought to changing her single status.

‘Are you sure, Em? I don’t think the Royal really expects us to be able to provide someone at such short notice and you know how crazy emergency departments can get over Christmas. People drink far too much and there’s all those weird accidents you hear about, like people falling off the roof because they’re trying to change the bulb on Rudolph’s nose or something. You could just go on holiday if you wanted to escape. Somewhere nice and warm like the Maldives. Or Australia? Goodness knows you’ve earned a break and they’re talking snow here. Possibly a white Christmas for once.’

Going on holiday alone would be the worst thing to do. It would give her far too much time to think. To remember things that were better left in the past.

‘You know me,’ she reminded Julie. ‘I kind of like crazy.’

‘What about Italy, then?’ Julie was a good friend as well as her employer. ‘When did you last have Christmas with your family?’

A long time ago. But not quite long enough, it would seem, because she still wasn’t ready for a full-on Italian-style family gathering. Or perhaps it had just become a habit because locums were always in such demand over holiday periods.

‘Are you kidding?’ Emma tried to keep her tone light. ‘My cousin has just had twins. My mother will be crying in the corner because her only child is thirty-six and still single and maybe she’ll never get any grandchildren of her own. They’ll probably drag in every eligible male in the village and try and arrange a marriage on the spot. You have no idea the kind of pressure that will entail.’ She managed a laugh. ‘Give me medical chaos any time. Please, I need to be in Cheltenham. My family won’t mind. They know I always work over Christmas.’

‘Well...if you’re sure. It does have accommodation on offer as well. A modern apartment near the hospital. Let me see...a suburb called Montpellier.’

‘Sounds French. Trés chic.’ Emma drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s perfect, Julie. When do I need to be there?’

‘Early tomorrow afternoon by the latest. Someone called Miriam will give you an orientation tour and supply the keys to the apartment. I’ll text you the details.’

It was no more than a brisk walk to the compact basement apartment where Emma lived alone. It wouldn’t take her long to pack. She’d been with London Locums long enough to know exactly what she needed to take and to be ready to leave the city at a moment’s notice if necessary. It had been a huge lifestyle change to leave her secure position as a junior consultant in a paediatric ward, but it had been the perfect choice at the time. There was an adrenaline rush to be found, never knowing what kind of job would be around the next corner. She could be taking over a general practice in a remote area to give a sole GP a proper holiday, doing aero-medical retrievals from some exotic location with a seriously ill or injured person who needed to come home or plugging a gap in a hospital roster like this time. And an emergency department really was her favourite place to work—maybe because it was a bit like her lifestyle. You got to do all sorts of exciting, satisfying things but only for a brief time. Patients got moved on to other departments. She got to move on to other positions and that was the way she liked it.

If you never put down roots or formed deep attachments, there was no danger of having the pain of them getting ripped out, was there? Life was so much easier this way.

A busker, just outside the park gates, was—predictably—singing a Christmas carol. Emma increased her pace as she tried to escape the lyrics of ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ because it never failed to bring tears to her eyes every time. Just those four words—born on Christmas Day—could still potentially rip a hole in her heart.

It was five years ago now, though. She would have expected it to be getting easier year by year and it was...except for Christmas. Sometimes it felt as if the whole world was conspiring to remind her in agonising detail of how hard it had been to have coped as well as she had. Especially being here, because the hospital where it had happened—and where she’d worked at the time—was just on the other side of the park.

Thank goodness she could head out of town first thing tomorrow.

Emma couldn’t wait. She made a mental note to make sure she had some chains in the back of her SUV. Just in case. A town as big as Cheltenham was highly unlikely to get snowed in but it was surrounded by winding country roads and isolated villages. A white Christmas with all the extra chaos that could bring to an emergency department?

Bring it on...

‘She’s here, Max. With an apology for being a bit late but she said the traffic on the M40 was diabolical. There’d been a crash.’

‘No problem. At least she’s here now. Thanks, Miriam. Can you give her a really quick tour of the department to get her up to speed to start her first shift tomorrow morning and then bring her in here? I’ve got a couple of things I must finish but then I’ll be heading off to Upper Barnsley. I’ll need to be there when the children arrive.’

‘Of course. You’ll be wanting to give her the keys and any instructions for your apartment?’

‘I think it would be polite to actually show her the apartment myself. It’s only a few minutes’ walk away, after all. It’s not going to hold me up. Oh...’ Max lifted an eyebrow. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Emma...something. Sounded Italian but I can’t remember. She looks competent, though.’ Miriam’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m sure you’ll approve.’

Max cringed just a little at the inference he couldn’t miss. Yes, he appreciated good-looking women and there never seemed to be a shortage of contenders to fill the inevitably changing position as his out-of-work-hours companion but there was something in his senior nurse’s expression that made him think his reputation might not be something to be proud of. Well, it was irrelevant now, anyway. Even if he had any opportunities to meet someone new in the foreseeable future, he wouldn’t be able to take advantage of them. He had other, far more pressing, responsibilities that were due to land on his doorstep in—he swallowed hard as he glanced at his watch—only a hour or two from now.

He turned his attention back to the computer screen in front of him. There were a few last-minute adjustments to make to the rosters to ensure that this department ran as smoothly as possible while he couldn’t be here. He needed to give this Emma his personal mobile number as well so he could be on call to give her any advice if she needed it.

An Emma with an Italian-sounding surname was ringing a vague bell in the back of his mind as he pulled up a spreadsheet. It came with an image of a laughing young woman surrounded by children, holding a baby that had his hands tangled in her long ponytail. A quintessential ‘earth mother’ type, which, of course, had made her an absolute ‘no-go’ type for Max—no matter how gorgeous those generous curves and dark eyes and that smile had been.

Good grief...that had been ten years ago but the memory was astonishingly clear, now that he had dredged it up. They’d both been junior doctors on a paediatric ward at the same time. And her name was Emma...dammit...what had her surname been?

‘Moretti.’

Max’s gaze flicked up to the figure standing in the doorway of his office. He’d been totally lost in thought and the fact that the answer to his internal query was being answered in person had just thrown him completely.

‘I’m Emma Moretti,’ she said, coming further into the small space. ‘Miriam said to pop in and see you?’

Was it really the same woman? This Emma Moretti was nothing like the one Max had just been remembering. She was slim and smartly dressed and had short, spiky dark hair like a brunette pixie. She wasn’t smiling but her eyes were certainly dark enough. Almost as black as her hair. And she was staring at him with just the same astonished intensity that he knew he was subjecting her to.

‘Max? No way...’ Her lips were curving into a smile now and, suddenly, Max could see the woman he remembered. The life and soul of any party, especially if there were children involved. And that thought led straight to another party he couldn’t help but remember. The Christmas function for the staff of that paediatric ward. That sprig of mistletoe he’d held over Emma’s head. That kiss... The way they’d both laughed and blamed it on the prosecco because they couldn’t have been more wrong for each other.

Emma was still smiling. ‘I knew the HOD was a Dr Cunningham, but I never for a moment thought it might be you. I would have imagined you to be living in a place like New York by now. Or Sydney, maybe.’

A large, vibrant city that would be a perfect social playground for someone with a reputation like himself? That cringeworthy moment he’d had earlier came back to bite a little harder. Ten years on and he hadn’t changed much, had he?

Unlike Emma.

‘And I would never have imagined you working as a locum. I would have imagined you to be completely settled in one place by now. With a husband and half a dozen kids.’

He was genuinely curious about what had happened in her life but he knew he’d just stepped over a boundary of some kind. He saw the instant the shutters went up.

‘Nobody has half a dozen kids these days, Max. How irresponsible would that be, given global resources?’

Max cleared his throat. ‘Precisely why I haven’t contributed to the population statistics myself.’ He shuffled some papers on his desk to cover the slightly awkward atmosphere. ‘Did Miriam give you enough of a tour? Are you happy to start your first shift at seven a.m. tomorrow?’

‘I’m happy.’ Emma’s nod was brisk. ‘I’ve had a lot of experience working in unfamiliar surroundings and I can quickly get a feel for how helpful the staff are going to be. You’ve obviously got a great crowd here and I don’t anticipate any problems at all in covering for you. I assume you have a trauma team on call as well? With specialists from other departments?’

‘Yes. I can’t guarantee there’ll be a consultant from every department available on the bank holidays but there should be someone from orthopaedics, general surgery and neurology who’ll get here as fast as possible if the alert is activated. We only do that if we know there’s major trauma coming in. Otherwise, we assess and call in consults as needed. Same goes for medical or obstetric emergencies.’ Max closed down his computer and got to his feet. ‘I’ll be available by phone at any time. Don’t hesitate to call. I can probably come in if there’s a real crisis. I’ll be just outside of a village that’s halfway between Cheltenham and Cirencester, which is only twenty minutes away—unless this forecast for snow is accurate.’

‘I’m rather hoping for a white Christmas,’ Emma said. ‘Especially seeing as I’ve got accommodation that’s within easy walking distance.’

‘Speaking of which...let’s go.’ Max headed towards Emma to reach for his coat that was hanging behind the door. He caught a faint scent of something clean and crisp as he got closer. Lemons, maybe? Or mandarins...?

‘Sorry?’ Emma was blinking at him. ‘Where are we going?’

‘To the apartment.’ Max held open the door of his office. ‘I thought I’d show you around, seeing as it’s mine.’

The HOD of the Royal’s emergency department was making his own apartment available for his locum?

And the HOD was Max Cunningham?

Emma was still getting her head around both of these startling pieces of information as she followed him out of the emergency department via the automatic doors that led to the ambulance bay.

It would probably be a swanky penthouse apartment, she decided. Very modern and luxurious and not at all to her taste but perfect for a brief stay. Unless...oh, help...could there be something really tacky like mirrors on the bedroom ceiling?

Everybody had known what Max Cunningham was like back in the day of their junior rotations. Not that that stopped women from joining the queue. And why not? Max was drop-dead gorgeous, totally charming and knew how to make any woman feel special. He’d had a catchphrase, hadn’t he?

Oh, yeah... Emma bit back a smile as they turned out from the hospital grounds and waited for a set of traffic lights to change so that they could cross the busy main road. She remembered it now.

We’re here for a good time, not a long time...

Playboys had never been remotely Emma’s type but she had understood the attraction. Felt it herself, in fact, even though she wouldn’t have touched him with a bargepole as far as a relationship went. The man had actually kissed her once, at that Christmas party and...and...good grief... How was it possible to remember a moment like that with such astonishing detail after so many years? She could feel her toes trying to curl themselves up inside her shoes so it was a relief to start walking swiftly across the road. She certainly wasn’t going to start wondering if the toe-curling was due to embarrassment or the intense desire that kiss had generated. There were decorations overhead, she noticed, trying to distract herself further by looking up. Long strings of icicle lights that would look very pretty at night.