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‘You use day care?’ Jack’s interest was not merely courteous now. It was focused and intense enough to make Hannah grit her teeth. She had come across this kind of prejudice often enough, but to have it come from the person who had created the need for it in her life was enough to push her past any intended boundaries of staying politely aloof.
‘I have a career as well as a child.’ Hannah knew that at some point in the very near future she would admire the control she was managing to achieve right now. ‘I don’t find them to be mutually exclusive despite the fact that I’m a woman.’
‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘I’m sure you didn’t.’ Hannah’s interruption was as smooth as it was forceful. Her gaze was locked on Jack’s so it was safe enough to let him know that her mood in no way matched her words…or her tone. ‘And I’m sure you don’t intend to hold me up any longer. Enjoy the rest of your tour.’ She turned away, deliberately cutting off any attempt Jack might have made to say anything else. ‘Catch you tomorrow, Pete. 8 a.m. start for the ward round?’
‘Sounds good. Have a great evening.’
Hannah was already walking away. Every step was going to take her farther away from Jack. Her evening was getting better already.
The improvement continued. Hannah could feel her spirits lifting as she hurried along the ground-level corridor past Orthopaedic Outpatients and the plaster room on her right, the hospital pharmacy and chaplain’s office to her left. A sharp turn just before the entrance to the bone marrow transplant unit took her through a door into a fire-exit stairwell that was a short cut to the main car parking area for staff. Now she just had to negotiate the route past the hospital kitchens, Medical Records and the pathology department. Hannah kept up her brisk pace, trying to shake off the remnants of her reaction to seeing Jack again. The beginnings of the smile that tugged at her lips had a hint of smugness. If he tried to follow one of her private routes around this hospital he would get lost in no time at all.
* * *
If only she hadn’t got lost trying to find her way around that unfamiliar and huge children’s hospital in Auckland all those years ago. Dressed to the nines in a tailored skirt and jacket, nervously clutching the same briefcase she held now and panicking just a little. She had only scant minutes left to find the venue for her interview, and the sign hanging from the ceiling ahead of her indicated she had still not found the general medicine office suite.
He had been standing just beneath the unhelpful sign, wearing a suit and apparently absorbed in reading the contents of a manila folder. There had been a faint air of tension about him as though he’d been reading something important. Or waiting for someone who was late showing up. There had also been an aura of assurance. He’d obviously belonged there. He’d looked like a doctor. He would know where General Medicine was.
So Hannah approached him. Her determination to find her own way and handle the nerve-racking process of applying for her first permanent job with aplomb had been replaced by a desire to avoid looking stupid by arriving late and confessing she hadn’t been able to find her way. The solitary man beneath the sign seemed to be her best chance of resolving her predicament. She had cleared her throat to attract his attention away from the folder.
‘Excuse me. I’m wondering if you might be able to help me?’
He’d looked up from the folder and Hannah found herself the new focus of a pair of the darkest…and warmest brown eyes she had ever seen.
‘That would be a pleasure.’ The frown line between the unusually dark eyes disappeared and then the man smiled and Hannah knew that the conviction she had cemented over the last year that she had lost the capacity to find men attractive was completely wrong. The totally unexpected and badly timed realisation was disconcerting and Hannah dragged her gaze away from the disarming smile only to find it caught again by those dark, dark eyes. She could see a distinctly amused gleam in them now.
‘How can I help?’
‘I…ah…’ Hannah caught her bottom lip between her teeth, unhappily aware that she was probably compounding an image of being a helpless female. Not only had she been unable to follow directions but she was now rendered incoherent by the smile from a good-looking man. There was only one way out before this got any worse and Hannah took it. She smiled wryly as she made her confession. ‘I’m kind of lost.’
‘I’m not surprised. This is a very large hospital.’
Hannah’s deep breath was almost a sigh of relief. She didn’t feel so stupid any more. His tone was understanding. Sympathetic. And he had an accent. English, but not the public-school variety. It was more of a lilt that added colour to an already attractively deep voice.
‘Where are you heading?’
‘General Medicine. Not the ward, though. I’m looking for the head of department’s office.’ The movement to push her wrist clear of her navy jacket sleeve and check her watch was automatic. ‘I’ve got a job interview in five minutes.’
‘Have you?’ Thick, dark eyebrows rose until they almost vanished beneath the wayward curls above. ‘What’s the job?’
‘A registrar’s position. It’s the first one I’ve ever applied for and I really don’t want to be late.’ The words tumbled out. This was no time to be distracted into conversation no matter how attractive this stranger was. ‘Look, I’m getting a bit desperate here. Can you help me?’
‘I’d love to.’ The sincerity in the statement was obvious. ‘But…I’m afraid I can’t.’
Hannah held back a renewed surge of panic. ‘What?’
‘I hate to admit this…but I’m as lost as you are.’
‘What?’ Hannah knew she probably looked like a fish stranded out of water but she didn’t care. She had just wasted another precious two minutes and she was no closer to finding her goal.
‘I’ve got a job interview myself.’ The explanation was apologetic. ‘For a surgical consultancy. First one I’ve ever applied for as well and I’m damned if I can read this map and find the department.’
They stared at each other.
And then they laughed.
The tension evaporated by magic then and they both studied the map in the manila folder together. The stranger’s hand touched Hannah’s and she decided it really didn’t matter if she was a minute or two late. He was going to be even later for his appointment because he insisted on taking the stairs to the next level and making sure Hannah had found her destination.
‘Good luck,’ he’d said finally. He paused as he turned away. ‘I’m Jack, by the way. Jack Douglas.’
‘I’m Hannah Campbell,’ she responded. ‘And thanks. Good luck to you, too.’
The charm of that encounter hung around Hannah. Quite apart from being devastatingly attractive, Jack Douglas had been so nice. He had gone out of his way to help her despite needing help himself. And he had made her laugh when she’d been feeling anything but relaxed. The combination had created a magic that had stayed with Hannah well after the door had closed again behind him.
* * *
She slammed the car door with unnecessary vigour but a punctuation point was definitely in order. There was no point in raking over old coals and Hannah had left the remains of that blaze alone for so long now she was surprised to find the memory so vivid. Maybe if she’d been prepared for seeing Jack again she could have thrown some extra protection into place. On the other hand, maybe letting things surface so that she could deal with them once and for all was healthier. The reminder of an important lesson, no matter how well learned, was never a complete waste of time or energy.
And the worst was over now. She had seen Jack Douglas again. Had acknowledged that he looked and sounded pretty much the same. And she hadn’t been attracted. Not one tiny bit. The relief she’d experienced walking away from him had been palpable. It was still with her now twenty minutes later as she walked towards the old converted villa that housed the Maysfield Child Care Centre. The moment she walked inside and saw her daughter, the resolve that she would never let anything—or anyone—threaten what they had was strengthened to the point where Hannah felt invincible. She would deal with this because there was simply no other choice.
‘Mummy!’ A small face shone with delight and Hannah held out her arms to catch Olivia’s headlong rush. ‘I made you something, Mummy. You can eat it.’
‘Fabulous. I’m starving.’ Hannah hoped it wasn’t a sand pie decorated with marigold petals like the one she had been presented with in the sandpit last week.
‘It’s quite safe.’ Shirley Smith, the owner-operator of the child care centre, grinned at Hannah. ‘We’ve been in the kitchen this afternoon.’
‘They’re butterfly cakes, Mummy. Come and look! They’re be-yootiful.’
Hannah had to agree. The tops of the Madeira cake muffins had been sliced off and halved, to be positioned in the icing later as wings. Jelly beans had made colourful bodies and feelers had been created from tiny strips of liquorice.
‘I made two, Mummy. One for you and one for me.’
‘Shall we save them for later? A special treat for supper?’ Hannah could see the battle the decision-making process caused but her smile was automatic. Had she really never noticed before how similar Olivia’s eyes were to her father’s? Perhaps the fact that they were framed by blond hair had made the comparison less obvious. And she had never credited her daughter’s curls to Jack either. She was just Livvy—her gorgeous, lovable and incredibly precious child. Impulsively, she gathered the small body into her arms again and kissed the soft, fluffy curls. ‘Thank you for making me a butterfly cake, darling. Love you.’
‘Love you, too.’ Olivia wriggled free. ‘Let’s go home, Mummy. I want to count the daff-dils.’
Shirley walked out to the car-parking area with them. ‘Did you see the van?’
‘No. Has it arrived, then?’ Hannah looked around at Shirley’s smile. She must have been very preoccupied on her arrival not to spot the minibus parked in the corner. The paint job with the centre’s name surrounded by bright cartoon characters was eye-catching. ‘It looks great!’
‘We’re going to start the school runs next week.’
‘I’m so pleased.’ Hannah lifted Olivia onto her booster seat in the back of the car and fastened her safety belt. ‘I was dreading having to make other arrangements when Livvy starts school.’ The centre’s hours of 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. had been brilliant for Hannah and after nearly four years of coming here it was a second home for Olivia. The staff were caring and Shirley was a firm part of the family now.
‘I’m not sure about the roster for driving yet. I think Lucy’s a bit young at nineteen but some of the others are just as keen. I’m also having to decide how many schools we open the service to. I don’t want numbers to climb too much.’
Hannah nodded. Olivia had been one of the first clients of Shirley’s business. The numbers had climbed steadily over the years but there were never more than about twenty children at any one time. If too many parents took advantage of having the hours before and after school catered for then the atmosphere of the centre might change.
‘Just don’t leave Maysfield Primary off the list. Livvy’s enrolled there.’
‘That’s the closest school so it’ll be first. It may be enough by itself for the moment. I might wait and see what the numbers are like.’ Shirley leaned into the car to give Olivia a kiss. ‘Bye, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.’
Olivia balanced the small box containing the butterfly cakes on her knee and chattered non-stop until they arrived home. Hannah parked her small hatchback outside the old stable and then released her daughter, who ran straight to where the copper beech was unfurling its bright, velvety new leaves. She crouched amongst the numerous spears of green foliage beneath the tree and the triumphant shout made Hannah grin. Olivia knew her numbers perfectly well, she was just too excited to take the time needed to recite them all in order.
‘One, two, four, seven…nine. There’s nine daff-dils now, Mummy.’
‘Would you like to pick some to take in for Shirley tomorrow?’
‘Ooh, yes. I love picking flowers.’
‘I know.’ Hannah didn’t mind that the golden blooms would vanish. There were plenty more buds ready to open and take their place. And it didn’t matter that the flowers were beheaded without much stalk length. Shirley was bound to have a short jam jar to put them in. The pleasure of watching Olivia’s face as she concentrated on making yet another gift was too great to interfere with. Did other children gain such intense satisfaction from giving? Hannah doubted it. Olivia was special. Such a happy, loving little girl that she could only enhance the lives of anyone privileged enough to know her.
‘Let’s put them in some water for now.’ Hannah led the way beneath the ancient wisteria vine that festooned the bull-nosed verandah of the 1860s cottage. The narrow hallway led past the original four rooms with their glowing kauri flooring and joinery which Hannah had painstakingly stripped of countless layers of paint. It finished at the north-facing addition to the cottage that had been a celebration of gaining her senior registrar post at Christchurch Central. The inadequate lean-to kitchen and bathroom facilities had been replaced and the kitchen she and Olivia entered now was a sunny, open space with a dining area to one side of French doors leading to a bricked courtyard garden.
Two cats, one completely black and the other white, were waiting patiently near the fridge.
‘Hello, Sooty. Hello, Snow.’ Olivia dropped to a crouch again to haul each cat into her arms for a cuddle that was gentle enough to be well received.
Hannah rescued the abandoned daffodils and put them into a glass of water. She looked up to find Olivia’s face sporting an expression remarkably similar to Sooty’s and Snow’s.
‘I’m hungry, Mummy. Can I have a biscuit?’
‘It’s nearly dinnertime, darling.’
‘Please?’
‘Just one, then. I’m going to get changed and then we can go and feed the hens.’
‘Can I make a sandwich for Joe?’
‘Joe doesn’t need a sandwich, pet. He’s getting fat. Sandwiches should really only be special treats for donkeys.’
‘We’re going to have a special treat later.’
Hannah smiled. ‘So we are. I’d almost forgotten about the butterfly cakes. OK, then. Joe can have a sandwich but just one slice of bread and not too much Marmite.’
Hannah kicked off her court shoes and unzipped her skirt, reaching for the faded denim jeans hanging over the end of the brass bedstead in her room. A soft, well-worn polo-necked jersey covered the shirt she had worn to work and she sat on the bed to pull on the warm socks she would need inside her gumboots. This was her favourite time of the day. She could stop being professional and sink into the comfort of being where she most loved to be with the person she most wanted to be with. It was bliss.
The fine woollen skirt needed some cat hair brushed off before being hung in the wardrobe but Hannah took the time to care for the garment. It had lasted for years now, as had many of her good-quality clothes. Flicking through the hangers in the wardrobe was no more than a random gesture. She couldn’t pretend she was looking to see if it was still there because she had known all along that it was. Why had she even kept that white gypsy blouse with its rainbow drawstring neck? She’d never worn it again and it was hardly likely to come back into fashion.
* * *
It had been a relief to get changed that day as well. To escape the restrictions of that tailored suit and head out for a walk to celebrate a successful end to a stressful day and to explore this exciting city. As usual, Hannah had been wearing a favourite pair of jeans and the pretty gypsy top had been perfect for the glorious summer weather Auckland had turned on. The motel she’d been staying in near the hospital had been central enough for the vibrancy of New Zealand’s largest city to surround it and high enough to give tantalising glimpses of the Waitemata Harbour with its spectacular bridge and the holiday atmosphere the yachting activity provided. Auckland had been a totally new city for Hannah and she’d known she would love it if she was lucky enough to get the job and come there to live. The fact that her interview had gone so well made the possibility of starting a new life very real and the excitement the prospect generated made Hannah feel happier than she had in a very long time.
The coffee was great, too. A hot, creamy, strong latté in an outdoor café that had an unobstructed view of a large patch of harbour. Hannah was more than happy to sit by herself and enjoy the last part of the afternoon. She was even happier, however, at the interruption.
‘Excuse me, but I’m wondering if you might be able to help me?’
Hannah was laughing even before she turned towards the source of the instantly recognisable voice.
‘I’m looking for a good cup of coffee.’ Jack kept his face straight for a few seconds longer. ‘Can you recommend this establishment?’
The coffee was so good that Hannah had another one. It shouldn’t really have seemed like fate stepping in that Jack was staying at the same nearby motel. It was, after all, the closest one to the hospital and had been top of the recommended list. It was also coincidental that Jack’s interview had gone well and that, like Hannah, he was now on the shortlist for a coveted position; and it was hardly a surprise that they were both visiting Auckland for the first time. It seemed only polite to share the celebration of a satisfying day and completely logical to join forces and spend the evening exploring a little of the city.
‘After all,’ Jack pointed out, ‘we wouldn’t want to get lost, would we?’
They shouldn’t really have stayed out so late when they both had a second round of interviews the next day. And they probably shouldn’t have visited the Stardome Observatory on One Tree Hill as they finally headed back towards their motel. If they hadn’t already identified the constellations through the giant telescope inside, they wouldn’t have lain on a deserted, grassy slope later, trying to find them again.
And Jack wouldn’t have kissed her. Or had she kissed him? It didn’t matter. The attraction between them was so mutual and so strong that Hannah barely registered the breaking of so many of her private rules regarding men. She was about to start a new life here. Everything was new and exciting and tinged with a magic she had never encountered before. What better way to make it memorable for ever than to spend a night with the most wonderful man she had ever met? Reckless? Yes. Memorable?
Oh, very definitely, yes. Far too memorable. Hannah pushed the wardrobe door shut and made sure the latch clicked. Maybe she couldn’t stem the flow but she could shut these disturbing memories away again just as quickly. They just needed airing. A quick shake and then they could go back where they had come from and lie undisturbed, hopefully for good this time.
* * *
Olivia’s fluorescent pink gumboots looked positively lurid as they caught the last of the sunshine. Joseph, the grey donkey, was duly appreciative of the mangled piece of bread and Marmite. Velvety lips carefully plucked the offering from the tiny hand Hannah held flat on top of her own. She rubbed inside the length of the shaggy ear and Joseph closed his eyes and lowered his head in ecstasy. Olivia planted a noisy kiss on his nose.
‘We have to go now, Joe,’ she told their largest pet. ‘We have to see if the eggs have cracked.’
Arthur, the Chinese Silky bantam rooster, was strutting proudly in front of the henhouse with Bianca, Carla and Elsa close by. Deirdre was inside, as she had been for over a week now, keeping her clutch of six eggs warm. She appeared as Hannah scattered handfuls of grain and Olivia’s blond curls almost disappeared as she poked her head into the nesting box for a closer look.
‘There’s no cracks yet, Mummy.’
‘I think it takes a bit longer than a week for them to hatch.’
‘Maybe tomorrow?’
‘Maybe.’ Hannah squeezed the small hand that slid into hers as they headed back to the house via a quick visit to shift Horace the goat’s tethering pole. ‘We’ll have to think up some names for the chickens when they hatch, won’t we? What’s the next letter after ‘‘E’’?’
Olivia had to think hard about that. She sang her way through the alphabet song as she pulled off the pink gumboots.
‘F,’ she declared finally.
‘Good girl! What sound does ‘‘F’’ make?’
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