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‘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
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.