‘The workings of your mind are a mystery to me!

‘You are a caring and competent surgeon who has a way with children and would make a wonderful mother.’

To be told that Aaron thought she would make a good mother brought the tears back again, and as they streamed down her cheeks his expression changed from incomprehension to awareness.

‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ he exclaimed. ‘You want a child of your own. The ache inside you comes from that, and because you’ve been on your own for so long you can’t cope with making that sort of commitment.’

‘Yes, that’s it,’ she agreed, glad to be off the hook. If she had to lie, she had to lie, and at that moment the truth would have choked her in the telling.

Aaron was smiling. He couldn’t help it. He’d solved the mystery. With patience and careful wooing it might all come right for them.

Abigail Gordon loves to write about the fascinating combination of medicine and romance from her home in a Cheshire village. She is active in local affairs and is even called upon to write the script for the annual village pantomime! Her eldest son is a hospital manager, and helps with all her medical research. As part of a close-knit family, she treasures having two of her sons living close by and the third one not too far away. This also gives her the added pleasure of being able to watch her delightful grandchildren growing up.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE POLICE SURGEON’S RESCUE

THE GP’S SECRET

IN-FLIGHT EMERGENCY

THE PREGNANT POLICE SURGEON

The Surgeon’s Family Wish

Abigail Gordon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER ONE

AARON LEWIS was smiling as it was announced that the aircraft was preparing for landing. The last two weeks spent touring foreign hospitals and noting different techniques had been absorbing, but here was where his heart was. In the English city where he worked in a large children’s hospital and lived in a rambling, red-brick house with what was left of his family.

His smile deepened as he envisaged them waiting for him at the airport. His mother, her round pink face alight with pleasure at the sight of him, with Lucy beside her, dancing with excitement because he was back. They were his world and every time he saw a sick child he gave thanks for his daughter’s good health.

Ever since the day when his wife had gone into the sea in a Cornish cove to go to the assistance of his father, who’d been caught in a fast and dangerous current, there’d been just the three of them—his mother, his daughter and himself.

He’d gone back to the hotel that day with Lucy, then a toddler, for something they’d forgotten, and by the time he’d got back to the beach his wife and father had both been swept out to sea.

There’d been a huge search, with the lifeboat and air-sea rescue services involved, but to no avail, and when their bodies had been washed up with the tide a couple of days later, both he and his mother had been faced with the knowledge that half of a close, loving family was gone.

Eloise had drowned trying to save her adored father-in-law and as Aaron had stood gazing bleakly out to sea on the golden sand where they’d been picnicking on that terrible day, his mother had said, ‘Life has to go on, Aaron, for Lucy’s sake if nothing else.’

That had been four years ago and they’d coped. As long as he didn’t look back too much, life had been reasonably good. His mother had taken Eloise’s place in Lucy’s young life, while he’d done his best to take care of them both. In a very short time the threesome would be reunited.

As he waited for his luggage to come round on the carousel Aaron was imagining his daughter’s face when she saw what he’d brought her back from the trip. He’d spoken to her every night while he’d been away but it hadn’t been the same as holding Lucy in his arms.

Yet there was only his mother waiting to greet him when he’d gone through the formalities. No Lucy, and her grandmother’s face was pinched and grey. He could smell trouble a mile off. It went with the job, and he’d only seen his mother look like this once before.

As Mary Lewis watched her son approach she knew she was about to blight his homecoming. He was a commanding figure, striding towards her amongst the other travellers. Tall, straight, with dark hair curling above his ears, his eyes were like soft brown velvet when they rested upon his family and his small patients. They could also be as hard as flint if he came across a situation that did not please him....

She saw his brisk stride falter and swallowed hard.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked the moment he reached her side. ‘Where’s Lucy?’

Her smooth cheeks were crumpling, but her voice was steady as she told him, ‘She’s in Barnaby’s, Aaron. Lucy fell off the climbing frame in the garden yesterday and instead of landing on the grass cracked her head on the lawnmower that I’d left nearby while I went to answer the phone. She must have fallen awkwardly. By the time I got to her she was unconscious. I sent for an ambulance. They took us to the General and from there they transferred Lucy to Barnaby’s.’

‘Why?’ he questioned tightly as his worst nightmare took on form and shape. ‘Why did they transfer her? And why didn’t you let me know?’

He’d taken hold of his mother’s arm and was ushering her towards the exit, not wanting to waste a moment in getting to his daughter’s side.

‘They X-rayed her head in A and E and did a CT scan which revealed an open fracture of the skull requiring surgery. The new paediatric surgeon at Barnaby’s took over from there. As to why I didn’t let you know, I rang your hotel but you’d just left for the airport, and I decided that you would be better making the long flight without having a terrible anxiety gnawing at you.’

‘How is Lucy now?’ he asked in the same tight tone. ‘Any brain damage?’

‘You need to talk to the doctor who operated. I was so agitated I could hardly take in what she was saying. The main thing at the moment is that Lucy has come through it and was sleeping peacefully when I left her. I’ve been with her all the time, needless to say, but I had to come to meet you. I couldn’t let you walk into something so worrying without warning.’

She was almost running to keep up with him and, contrite, he slowed down. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he gave her a quick hug.

‘You are the best. You do know that, don’t you?’

Her smile was wry. ‘I didn’t feel like that yesterday when I saw our little one lying so still.’

‘No, I can imagine,’ he said gently, adding, with the urgency in him unabated, ‘Where have you parked the car?’

‘Across the way there,’ she told him, passing him the keys. ‘You’d better drive, Aaron. We’ll get there more quickly and I’m beginning to wilt now that I’ve passed the burden on to you.’

‘I’m sorry that you’ve had to cope with this on your own, Mum,’ he told her regretfully. ‘It must have been horrendous, but we’ll be with Lucy soon and then I’ll be able to find out for myself what the damage is.’

He groaned.

‘I can’t believe that the moment I turn my back the fates start playing tricks. My daughter in my hospital. And you said it’s someone new who operated on Lucy. Where was Charles, for heaven’s sake, and Mark Lafferty?’

Charles Drury was the consultant, who was shortly to retire after a long career in paediatric surgery, and the other man was a skilled surgeon in his fifties. It was surprising that neither of them had been available to operate on his precious child.

‘Charles is away on holiday,’ his mother informed him, ‘and Mark is incapacitated with a broken pelvis after a motor accident. It was a Dr Swain who operated on Lucy. It was her first day at Barnaby’s and she looked washed out, as if she should be in bed herself.’

Aaron nodded grimly.

‘Yes, of course. I’d forgotten. She would be the new broom. We’ve had a lot of staff changes recently on the surgical side. Thankfully my lot don’t have such itchy feet.’

He was hoping that this new woman was up to scratch. Not all the surgeons who operated on the children that he and his staff had in their care were of Charles Drury’s standard.

The hospital gates were looming up. He would soon know how well the Swain woman did her job.

He was almost galloping as they reached the main corridor of the hospital and his mother said, ‘Go on, I’ll catch you up. Lucy is in a small room off Rainbow Ward.’

In the early October morning the ward was beginning to come to life. Nurses flitted amongst the beds, talking gently to those who were fretful and with a cheerful word for the rest.

The sister saw him the moment he came whizzing in and she flashed him a sympathetic smile.

‘Not a good day for you, is it, Dr Lewis, but Lucy is making good progress,’ she said as he made towards the side ward. ‘She came through the operation satisfactorily and is still sleeping. Dr Swain is on her way to see her.’

Aaron felt tears prick as he stood beside the still form of his daughter. She was so small to have to go through that kind of surgery, but there was a ward full of children out there and none of their problems were minor. Rainbow Ward was for the more serious cases and the Lollipop Ward for those less complicated, but often they overflowed into each other.

Lucy’s fair curls had been shorn off and the part of her scalp where surgery had been performed was covered in dressings. She looked so little and vulnerable he could hardly bear it, but there were things he had to know. The extent of the damage to her skull. What amount of surgery had been necessary. And the best person to tell him that was Dr Swain.

The sister had left him to go back to supervising in the main ward, and as Aaron was lifting the clipboard from the bottom rail of the bed to read Lucy’s notes the door opened.

She was tall, slender, with nut-brown shoulder-length hair framing a tired, white face. But tired or not, her glance, when it met his, was cool and professional and her grip firm as she introduced herself.

‘I’m Annabel Swain,’ she said quietly, ‘and you must be Dr Lewis, Lucy’s father.’

‘Yes,’ he told her, and without going into any of the niceties added, ‘I need to know how badly hurt my daughter was and what surgery you’ve performed on her.’

‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed. Sinking down onto a chair beside the bed, she looked up at him.

There was weariness behind the cool hazel gaze meeting his, but it barely registered. Aaron was frantic to know the worst. Once he’d absorbed it he would cope. At least Lucy was alive and who knew better than he what terrible damage could be caused to children and adults in accidental happenings?

‘Lucy was transferred to Barnaby’s from A and E last night as I was about to finish my shift,’ she told him in a voice that he would have thought pleasing to the ear at any other time. ‘She was unconscious and had been diagnosed with an open skull fracture.

‘Fortunately, I have done some specialising in neurology and problems of the cranium and operated immediately to correct fragmentation of the bone and prevent her condition worsening.’

‘What about brain damage?’ he asked quickly. ‘Any penetration of the meninges and brain tissue?’

She shook her head and the brown hair swung gently around her pale face.

‘None that I could see. I drained away surplus blood and repaired damaged vessels, along with realigning the fractured bone. I shall be keeping a close watch on Lucy for the next few days. She was unconscious before the operation but she’s sleeping naturally now.’ She was getting to her feet. ‘But as Head of Paediatrics I’m sure you won’t need me to tell you that.’

‘You can tell me anything you like as long as it’s beneficial to Lucy,’ he told her, and sent up a prayer of thankfulness that this woman had known what she was doing.

‘I’m living in hospital accommodation at the moment in a flat at the other side of the grounds,’ she was explaining. ‘I’m going there to get some sleep once I’ve made sure that your daughter is all right. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to ring me. I’ve already told Sister to call me the moment she wakes up, but it could be some time before Lucy surfaces from the trauma of the operation and the effects of the anaesthetic. When she does, that will be crunch time.’

Aaron nodded.

‘I realise that, and if you need sleep by all means go and get it. A tired doctor is not a good one. It would seem that you came to us at a bad time, with two of our paediatric surgeons not available.’

Her smile was wry.

‘Yes...and you weren’t around either.’

‘No, I wasn’t,’ he agreed sombrely. ‘I wish I had been.’

‘But Lucy’s grandma was there.’

‘Yes,’ he said levelly. ‘My mother is always there when we need her. Our three generations jog along together very well.’

* * *

As Annabel Swain threw herself down on top of sheets that hadn’t been slept between for two days she was thinking about the man she’d just met. Since becoming involved with Lucy she had discovered that the absent head of Paediatrics at Barnaby’s Children’s Hospital was someone of note.

He was referred to with respect and deference and she’d wondered why. Now that she’d met him she understood in part. He had a commanding presence...and a very attractive one, too. She might be disenchanted with the opposite sex but a man like him was so easy on the eye she wasn’t going to overlook that.

She’d sensed back there in the ward that he’d had his doubts about her, would have preferred his daughter to be operated on by one of the regular surgeons, but if that was the case it was too bad. Yet she couldn’t blame him. It was clear to see that he was a loving father and it must have been horrendous to come home to find his daughter had been given emergency surgery in his absence by a stranger instead of a close colleague.

There didn’t appear to be any mother in the family set-up, so he must be either divorced or a widower. Neither situation very unusual. Both the kind of set-up where a loving grandmother would be welcome.

His mother had arrived at the ward just as Annabel was leaving and the two women had spoken briefly.

‘How is Lucy now?’ Mary Lewis had asked anxiously when they’d come face to face, and Annabel had thought how lovely it would be to have a mother like this kindly, chubby woman.

She’d managed a tired smile. ‘Progressing satisfactorily,’ she’d told her. ‘Pulse and temperature normal. No post-operative complications at the moment. But as her father is only too aware, there is still a possibility of brain damage.’

The colour had drained from the older woman’s face.

‘Oh, no!’

‘I’ve told your son that there were no signs of damage to the brain or the meninges, but one can’t be sure until the patient is fully awake and over the effects of the operation,’ Annabel had told her. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going off duty for a while to get some sleep.’

The anxious grandmother had flashed her a sympathetic smile.

‘Yes, of course, my dear. You must be exhausted. Thank you for taking such good care of our little one.’

‘It’s my job,’ Annabel had told her, and as she’d walked through the hospital grounds to the utilitarian flat she was renting because she couldn’t be bothered to start house-hunting, she’d thought that there hadn’t been any thanks coming from Aaron Lewis. But she could forgive him for that. He would be on a knife edge until Lucy opened her eyes. Praying that he would see lucid normality there.

She’d been looking forward to being a parent herself not so long ago. But a fall on a wet tiled floor in a hospital corridor while moving at speed had sent her crashing down and had brought an end to all her hopes and dreams.

If it had been in the first weeks after she’d found out she was to have a child, Annabel might have felt she’d had a lucky escape after her affair with an American doctor had dwindled and died when she’d discovered he had a wife and family back in the States. But at four months into the pregnancy Annabel had settled into the role of prospective single parent and had been eagerly looking forward to the birth of her child. Now, bereft and lonely after her shamefaced lover had returned to his homeland, she was doing the job she’d always done, using her skills to try to save or improve the lives of other people’s children, and all the time she was mourning the loss of her own baby.

As she lay looking up at the drab ceiling the memory of her affair with Randolph Graham was preventing sleep. They’d worked together in Paediatrics in a big Middlesex hospital where he’d come to do a twelve-month exchange and Annabel, in her thirties, having spent all her working life caring for the children of others, had been happy to discover her pregnancy with the amiable American as her partner.

But when he heard that the two of them had made a child, everything had changed. He’d confessed that he was married and that had been the end of the affair. After the first shock of his deceit and the realisation that she was faced with the prospect of becoming a single mother, Annabel had rallied and had been looking forward to having a child of her own. Since she’d lost it the days were empty and her heart like a stone.

It was the reason why she’d moved north to get away from painful memories of betrayal and loss. But agonising parents such as Aaron Lewis need have no fear. Her dedication to the job was as strong as ever. No one would be able to say that she put her own heartache before that of others, and as an autumn sun poked its head through the curtains she rolled over and slept.

* * *

Lucy was awake and crying.

‘My head hurts, Daddy,’ she whimpered.

‘Yes, I know,’ Aaron said gently. ‘We’ll give you something to make it feel better in a moment, Lucy, but first tell me, can you see me all right?’

She blinked weakly.

‘Yes. You’ve got your blue shirt on.’

‘Can you see Grandma?’

Without moving her head, Lucy looked sideways to where Mary was sitting.

‘Yes. Why is she crying?’

‘Because you’re awake...and getting better.’

‘What happened to me?’

Aaron took a deep breath.

‘Let’s see if you can remember.’

Her bruised little face was crumpled with the effort of thinking back but she didn’t disappoint him.

‘I fell off the climbing frame and there was something there. I banged my head on it.’

‘Good girl,’ he said gently, and his mother’s tears turned to smiles. ‘The doctor who mended your poorly head is coming to see you and then we’ll give you something to make it feel better.’

It was the same as before. He heard the door behind him open and shut and she was standing beside him, the pale-faced doctor who had been there for Lucy when he hadn’t been.

‘Hello, Lucy,’ she said quietly. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘My head hurts,’ she said fretfully.

‘I’m sure that it does. You gave it a nasty knock and I had to put you together again like they tried to do for Humpty Dumpty. Sister is going to give you something to stop it hurting and a nice cool drink. Then later on we’ll take some pictures of your head.’

‘Will that hurt?’ Lucy asked.

‘We’ll be very gentle,’ Annabel promised, then turned to the tall figure beside her. ‘Does she remember what happened?’

‘Yes, thank goodness.’

His eyes were moist and if he hadn’t been Head of Paediatrics she would have put a comforting hand out to him, but she’d never operated on the child of a top doctor before, she thought wryly, and didn’t know what the rules were.

Aaron’s glance had switched to his mother.

‘Go home and get some rest,’ he told her gently. ‘You’ve had an anxious time. I wish you could have been spared it. The folks in Reception will get you a taxi and I’ll use your car when I come home, which will be a while yet.’

‘All right,’ she agreed, getting to her feet. ‘Now that I’ve seen Lucy awake I feel better.’ Planting a kiss on her granddaughter’s bruised cheek, she went.

As a nurse gave the little girl something for the pain and a drink in a cup with a spout so that she didn’t have to move, Annabel said, ‘You are lucky to have such a wonderful mother. Does she live with you?’

He was staring at her with raised brows and she felt her cheeks reddening. Aaron Lewis must think her extremely nosy, she thought as she fiddled with her stethoscope and pushed back a strand of hair off her brow.

It seemed an eternity before he spoke and then he said, ‘Yes, my mother is wonderful and, yes, she does live with us. Having her there helps to make up for Lucy’s mother not being around any more.’

If he was expecting her to start asking questions about that after her first display of curiosity he was very much mistaken, she decided. Though by now she was intrigued.

It would all come out eventually as they were going to be working together, most of the time in close proximity. Aaron and his team were involved in diagnosis and treatment, while the other surgeons and herself performed the necessary surgery that would bring their small patients back to health. And for those who were not so lucky, a better quality of life...

* * *

Aaron was still there late that evening. He wasn’t officially on duty for a couple of days, which would have given him time to relax before going back to Barnaby’s, but all that had changed and Annabel thought that, jetlagged or not, this man was staying put until he was happy about his daughter’s condition.

A junior doctor and a relief surgeon from the General Hospital were due to come on duty at ten o’clock and that would be the routine until the other two regulars came back.

Aaron had been by Lucy’s side while further scans had been done to check on the success of the operation, and soon they would know whether the man who was seeing the other face of medicine, from the position of anxious parent, could relax.

Annabel didn’t know why but she felt an affinity with him. Maybe it was because she’d recently suffered a great loss herself and had known the aching grief that had come with the knowledge that her baby would never see the light of day.

She’d dealt with grieving and frantic parents since then but had never felt like this, and she told herself it must be because they were both doctors seeing life from the opposite side of the fence.

The results came through just as she was due to go off duty at ten o’clock and as they studied them the two doctors were smiling. The skull was as back to normal in shape and size as it could be so soon after surgery. There was no bleeding and the bone fragments were still in place where she’d repaired them.

When he turned to her there was warmth in his eyes for the first time and he said abruptly, ‘I think some thanks are overdue, Dr Swain. Charles Drury, who I hold in high esteem, couldn’t have done better.’

She smiled and he thought that with a bit more life in her and some natural colour in her cheeks this hazel-eyed doctor would be quite something. His glance went to her hands. There was no wedding ring on view. But that didn’t mean anything these days. She could have a partner. Though that wasn’t likely if she was living in the soulless block in the hospital grounds.

There was a solitariness about her. The air of a loner. Curiosity was stirring in him, but he wasn’t going to let her see it. He would find out soon enough what was going on in her life if they were going to be teaming up on the wards.

She was ready to leave and Aaron was still sitting beside a sleeping Lucy.

‘I’m finished for the day, Dr Lewis,’ she said quietly. ‘But if you need me at all during the night, call me. A junior doctor and a surgeon on loan from the General are taking over now, but Lucy is my patient and I want it to stay that way.’

He nodded, almost asleep himself as jet-lag was beginning to take over.

‘Why don’t you go home for a couple of hours?’ she suggested. ‘It must be quite some time since you slept. I believe you’ve been on a tour of paediatric hospitals in America and were met at the airport with news of Lucy’s accident.’

‘I suppose I could pop home for an hour,’ he was saying. ‘I need a shower and a change of clothes, and at the moment all is quiet with Lucy so, yes, Dr Swain, I’ll take your advice.’

‘The name is Annabel,’ she told him.

Again he was aware of her in a strange sort of way.

‘Suits you,’ he commented briefly. ‘At least it would if...’

His voice had trailed away and with a wry smile she finished the sentence for him, ‘I wasn’t such a washed-out mess?’

For the first time in ages she was bothered about what someone thought of her.

It was Aaron’s turn to smile.

‘That isn’t how I would describe you. It would be more along the lines of someone who looks as if they need plenty of rest and vitamins. Have you been ill recently?’

‘No,’ she said, not sure if a painful miscarriage came into that category.

‘So it must just be due to the strains and stresses of health care that get to us all at one time or another,’ he commented, and with nothing further to say she nodded.

* * *

When Annabel had gone, Aaron did as she’d suggested and drove the short distance to the house that he and Eloise had bought when they’d married. She’d loved the rambling red-brick place and coming back to it without her after that disastrous holiday had been dreadful, but, as his mother had said, life had to go on and, as Lucy was growing older, his mother’s stoic calm and his daughter’s laughter had made it into a home again.

The luxury in which he lived was a far cry from Annabel Swain’s living quarters, he thought as he put his key in the lock. What was a woman like her doing in hospital accommodation, for heaven’s sake?

His mother was in bed but not asleep, and the moment she heard his step on the landing she came out to ask about Lucy.

‘So far so good,’ he told her. ‘She’s rational, as you saw when she awoke, and the surgery that Annabel Swain performed was spot on from the looks of it.’

Mary nodded.

‘We owe that lady a lot, Aaron. I know that she was only doing the job she’s paid to do, but I liked her the moment I saw her. She’d barely had time to get her foot over the doorstep at Barnaby’s and she was operating on our precious girl. When Lucy comes home, why don’t we invite her over for a meal?’

‘I agree with all you say,’ he told her, ‘but she might think an invitation to dinner a bit over the top.’

‘Nonsense!’ his mother exclaimed. ‘Annabel Swain looks as if she could do with some tender loving care herself. She’s too thin and pale.’

Aaron was smiling. ‘And you’d like to turn her into a buxom wench?’

‘Not exactly. I wouldn’t have thought that ‘‘buxom wenches’’ were quite your type.’

‘What has it got to do with me?’ he asked with dark brows rising. ‘You’re not going to try and marry me off again, are you? Because it won’t work.’

‘You can’t mourn Eloise for ever,’ she said gently.

‘It has nothing to do with that. I accepted long ago that she’s gone and won’t be coming back. But if and when I decide to marry again, I’ll do the choosing.’

She laughed. ‘All right. I get the message, but I’m not getting any younger, you know. Lucy needs a younger woman in her life.’

‘Yes, I know,’ he agreed, ‘and when the time is right I’ll do something about it.’

He felt vaguely irritated that his mother was taking such an interest in a woman that he’d only just met. Yet he had to admit that he’d been drawn to her for some reason and there hadn’t been many women he could say that about since he’d lost Eloise.

But reason said it was because she’d saved his daughter’s life. It certainly wasn’t because he’d been bowled over by her looks. Like a lot of other overworked doctors he’d met, she was white-faced, with dark smudges beneath those striking hazel eyes, and weary.

After he’d showered and changed Aaron unloaded his luggage from his mother’s car and took out the gift he’d brought for Lucy. Mary was on the verge of sleep again, so he crept in and put the box that held a gold bracelet from one of New York’s top stores on the bedside table.

He’d brought his daughter a doll, a miniature version of a pretty cheer-leader, and hoped that it might help to take her mind off the aches and pains that were the aftermath of surgery. Patti-Faye, she was called, and he thought whimsically that with her pouting red lips and glossy blonde bob she was an overstated version of the opposite sex, while the woman who had been in his thoughts was understated to say the least.

CHAPTER TWO

IN THE days that followed Lucy continued to make a good recovery. There had been no worrying after-effects from the surgery and every time Aaron looked at his daughter he rejoiced.

She was home now. She would soon be back at primary school and in the meantime was once more under her grandmother’s wing while Aaron was working.

He was back in harness now. On the wards and in Outpatients. He also supervised paediatric care in local clinics, referring problems to a consultant at Barnaby’s.

Aaron’s own speciality was neonatal problems and on a cold Monday morning he was due to see a baby boy who had been born flawless but now had an unsightly birthmark on his face.

The child had been referred from the Infirmary where the birth had taken place, and the distressed parents would be hoping he was going to wave a magic wand...

But before that he’d seen Annabel Swain coming from the direction of the accommodation blocks as he was parking his car and had sat watching her approach.

As Lucy had recovered their brief affinity had dwindled. Almost as if it had been born only of the crisis and now that it was over they’d taken stock of each other and stepped back.

It wasn’t exactly that on his part, but he had to admit that he might have given Annabel the impression that she’d served her purpose as far as he was concerned and that they were back on a footing of senior paediatrician and surgeon. It wasn’t the case, but now that his anxiety over Lucy was abating he was conscious that he had done nothing to further their acquaintance and she had saved his daughter’s life.

And now here she was, hurrying along with a chill wind nipping at her ankles, snuggled inside a long winter coat, and still with the pallor that had concerned him when they’d first met.

On the occasions they’d been together during Lucy’s stay in hospital he’d sensed melancholy in her and would have liked to have asked what was wrong, but had felt that he would be rebuffed if he did. After all they were strangers. Maybe if they’d met in the usual way of hospital staff, in a situation of a new member meeting a senior colleague and taking it from there, they would be easier with each other.

But they had been thrown together on an October morning with himself in a state of great anxiety and Annabel having spent her first hours at Barnaby’s operating on his daughter. Consequently she now knew all about him, while he knew nothing of her, except that she was a cool and very competent surgeon.

She was almost level and when she saw him getting out of the car she stopped and said, ‘Hello there. How’s little Lucy?’

‘Fine,’ he said smilingly. ‘And you?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes...you. How are you? It seems we haven’t spoken of anything other than hospital business.’

‘I’m all right, thank you.’

He didn’t believe that, but now he saw an opportunity to get her out of that dreadful flat for a few hours.

‘We wondered if you’d like to come round for a meal one night,’ he said casually, and watched her eyes widen. ‘My mother thought it would be one way of saying thank you for what you did for Lucy.’

So it wasn’t his idea, she thought as her pleasure at the invitation began to evaporate.

‘Thank you. That would be very nice,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t seem to have seen anything other than the flat, the operating theatre and the hospital grounds since I got here, but now that Mr Drury is back from his prolonged holiday and Mark Lafferty has also surfaced, I’m beginning to feel a little less pressured.’

‘Would Friday be OK?’ he asked, hoping that his mother hadn’t got anything planned, as she would be disappointed if she couldn’t be there.

‘Yes. I’m not on duty and have the weekend free, so there would be no problem.’

‘Good. Friday it is. Shall we say eight o’clock?’

Annabel nodded.

‘Yes. Eight o’clock will be fine.’

‘I’ll pick you up, Annabel.’

‘There’s no need,’ she protested. ‘I have my car.’

‘Yes, I know, but I’ll come for you just the same. I don’t like to think of you driving around in the dark in a strange town.’

She swallowed hard. It had been so long since anyone had cared whether she lived or died, it was nice to be fussed over for once.

She smiled and Aaron thought again that she would be really something if she was happy and cared for. But he wasn’t going to be volunteering to bring about either of those conditions. He was content as he was with his mother and Lucy to cherish and a job he loved. He’d not forgotten his mother saying that she wasn’t getting any younger, but that sort of problem could be resolved by bringing in extra help around the house.

He’d loved Eloise. She’d been an outgoing, bubbly blonde, curvy and petite. The woman standing beside him was her exact opposite. Tall, slender, too thin, in fact, with brown hair and eyes, and from what he’d seen so far, a restrained personality. So why did he have this curiosity regarding her?

It wasn’t that intense, though, was it? It had taken him long enough to invite her to dinner. His mother would be surprised and pleased. She’d never mentioned inviting Annabel round after that first time but he’d sensed that the idea was still in her mind.

Mary had loved her daughter-in-law, but it didn’t stop her from wanting happiness for him now, even though he’d made it clear that he wasn’t in the market for a second marriage. He could imagine Annabel’s expression if she knew that such an idea had entered his mother’s mind.

‘Right, then,’ she was saying. ‘If you’re going to pick me up, I’m in Flat Twelve on the ground floor.’

‘Ground floor?’ he echoed. ‘I hope there’s good security.’ And immediately felt that he was fussing.

‘Yes, plenty,’ she assured him, eyes widening in surprise. Then, with her glance switching to the big clock above the hospital entrance, she turned to go and with the thought of his outpatient clinic that was due to start shortly, Aaron did likewise.

That was a bolt from the blue, Annabel thought as she took off her coat and hung it in her locker. An invitation to dine with Aaron Lewis and his family. It would be something to look forward to in her drab existence as she had to admit that he intrigued her.

When they were in each other’s proximity she found her glance on him all the time, but she supposed that he had that effect on most women. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen...and the least approachable from a personal point of view.

Not workwise, though. With their small patients it was a different matter. They had that in common. Complete dedication to the children in their care. And while they were putting it into practice, the pain of what was not happening in the rest of her life was bearable.

* * *

The mark on the baby’s face was red, round and raised. There had been no sign of it at birth. It had appeared during the first few weeks of life and now covered a large area of his tiny cheek.

Aaron recognised it immediately.

‘It is a kind of haemangioma,’ he told them, ‘an abnormal distribution of blood vessels, commonly known as a strawberry mark. They enlarge rapidly during the first few weeks after the baby is born and will persist for six months or so, but the good news is that after that time the mark will gradually disappear. They’re usually gone by the time the child is five but may take a little bit longer.’

The young mother breathed a sign of thankfulness but the baby’s father wasn’t so easily satisfied.

‘And so what sort of treatment are you going to recommend?’

‘Strawberry naevi don’t usually require treatment,’ Aaron told him. ‘We would only remove it if the birthmark bleeds frequently, or if it is on the lip, tongue or genitals. It is done by laser treatment, but not recommended unless distress is being caused.’

The beautiful baby boy was lying contentedly in his mother’s arms and Aaron said, ‘Your son doesn’t seem to be in any discomfort so I don’t advise surgery at present. But I would like to see him every three months, and if any problems do occur don’t hesitate to get back to me.’

‘And so we’ve got to put up with him looking like this for years,’ the father persisted.

‘Leave it, Peter,’ his wife said. ‘At least we know that the birthmark is going to go eventually, and I don’t want our baby to be operated on just to satisfy your male pride.’

When they’d gone Aaron thought he could see both their points of view. The young husband was no different to a lot of parents who couldn’t cope with their child being different. His wife was only concerned about the baby, and rightly so.

The clinic was over. It had been the usual mixture of serious and small paediatric problems. Several of the children he’d seen today would need surgery. Annabel came to mind again and he had to tell himself that Charles and Mark were back. She wasn’t going to find new zest if he started passing all his sick children to her to be operated on.

Like teenager Oliver Thomas, for instance, who was going to need brain surgery in an attempt to alleviate severe epilepsy. He would need a team of doctors for the operation that Aaron felt necessary in his case. Then there was nine-year-old James Leech. He’d seen him that morning and had suggested an operation to straighten his protruding ears.

He might have a chat with her about them on Friday night, but then thought better of it. She would think he was some bore if all he could talk about was work over dinner.

* * *

The moment Aaron stopped the car in front of the accommodation block on Friday night, Annabel appeared in the entrance. When he saw her he blinked.

She was wearing a cream cashmere jacket over a long black dress, with high-heeled shoes the same colour as the jacket, and carrying a matching bag.

Her hair was swept off her face and hung down her back in a shining coil, and as she drew nearer he saw in the light from the streetlamps that the pallor that worried him had been covered with light make-up.

Was this the same understated paediatric surgeon who had entered his life at the time of Lucy’s accident? he asked himself as she opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside him.

‘Hello, there,’ he said as she smiled across at him. ‘You look...er...’

He wanted to tell her she looked wonderful, but suddenly felt she might think he was making too much out of an invitation to dinner.

She laughed. ‘Not as grotty as usual, were you about to say?’

‘Of course not,’ he protested. ‘I wouldn’t be so rude.’

‘But you might think it?’

‘Nothing of the kind. But I’ll tell you what I do think.’

‘And what is that?’

‘I think that you’re hurting for some reason. I saw you this afternoon when I was examining the baby with the dislocated hips.’

He watched her face close up and knew he’d hit a nerve.

‘You’ve no right.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘To be watching me.’

‘I can’t help it. I’m curious about you. For one thing you seem so alone.’

‘That’s because I am.’

‘And is that how you want it to be.’

‘Not particularly,’ she said in a casual tone that he found irritating. ‘But circumstances alter cases, just as broken noses alter faces.’

Aaron frowned.

‘Obviously it doesn’t bother you all that much or you wouldn’t be so flippant about it.’

She was serious now. ‘It’s more a case of having to accept what life hands out to us, Aaron.’

‘And what has it handed out to you?’

‘Nothing good of late.’

‘So I’m right. There is something troubling you.’

Annabel could have told him that it was there in the form of a great big lump of misery, but for some strange reason she wanted her acquaintance with Aaron Lewis to be free of past encumbrances. She didn’t want him to see her as someone with poor judgement so she didn’t answer.

‘What about family?’ he persisted, knowing he was being intrusive but unable to conceal his curiosity.

Within minutes they would be at the house. This brief moment of closeness in the car would be over and for some reason it was important to know what was going on in Annabel’s life. She already knew most of what there was to know about him, but he knew nothing about her past, present or future expectations.

He was about to find out...some of it.

‘My parents were archaeologists, more interested in old relics than a small child, I was fobbed off on relatives for most of my childhood and the moment I was old enough I cut free and enrolled in medical school. Not long after that they were on a dig in India when there was an earthquake. They died there, along with many others. I was almost nineteen at the time. So, you see, you are the fortunate one. You have your mother and Lucy, both of them delightful. I envy you.’

‘Yes, I am fortunate,’ he agreed, bemused by Annabel’s condensed description of what must have been a miserable childhood. But he didn’t feel so ‘fortunate’ at night in his lonely double bed.

The house was looming up in front of them and Annabel said, ‘Wow! What a lovely place you’ve got. The flat will seem like a rabbit hutch after this.’

He smiled. ‘I’m sure that you could do better. Is there a reason why you’re in hospital accommodation?’

‘It’s only because I couldn’t be bothered to go house-hunting when I got the job at Barnaby’s.’ As he drove onto a wide paved drive beside an immaculate garden she added, ‘But after tonight I might be spurred on to greater things.’

His mother and Lucy were coming out to meet them and Annabel thought, This is unreal. What am I doing here? Aaron is doing the polite thing, showing his gratitude by inviting me to eat with them. He didn’t have to do it.

When she glanced across at him there was a look on his face that she couldn’t fathom, but there were other things to claim her attention. Lucy was saying shyly, ‘Hello, Dr Swain.’ His mother was beaming her welcome and for the first time in months Annabel was beginning to unwind.

Bending down to the little girl, she said softly. ‘My name is Annabel, Lucy. No need to call me Dr Swain. That’s just my hospital name.’ She turned to a smiling Mary. ‘It’s so nice to meet you again, Mrs Lewis. I’ve just been telling Aaron how lucky he is to have you with him.’

Mary’s smile was slipping as her glance went to her son, and Annabel sensed undercurrents. But the comment had been innocent enough and if she’d been barging in where she shouldn’t, it hadn’t been intentional. There was the missing wife and mother, of course. Maybe it was to do with that.

The inside of the house was just as imposing as the outside. Someone who had a feel for colour and style had been responsible, and when she commented on it, almost as if it was the opening she’d been waiting for, Mary said, ‘My daughter-in-law was an interior designer. She had a feel for those sorts of things.’

‘Have you got a mummy, Annabel?’ Lucy asked suddenly.

‘Er...no, I haven’t,’ she told the little girl, with the feeling that this evening was turning into a ‘get to know you’ sort of occasion. It was only minutes ago that she’d been telling Aaron about her family background, or lack of it, and now Lucy was tuning in, but Annabel wasn’t prepared for what was coming next.

‘My mummy drowned. So did my grandad.’

‘Oh!’ Annabel breathed. ‘I am so sorry. What a terrible thing to happen.’

She was speaking to Lucy but her gaze was on Aaron standing very still beside his daughter.

‘Yes, it was,’ he replied tonelessly, ‘but, Lucy, we haven’t brought Annabel here to upset her, have we? And I’m sure that Mummy and Grandad are watching over us somewhere and hoping we have a nice evening.’

Annabel’s mind was reeling. She’d been so wrapped up in her own misery and what she’d just heard had been like a bolt from the blue. She wasn’t going to ask but Aaron’s composure told her that the tragedy wasn’t very recent and his mother was calm enough as she announced, ‘The meal is almost ready, Annabel.’ She glanced at her son. ‘Shall we have a drink before dinner, my dear?’

‘Er...yes,’ he said, as if bringing his thoughts back from somewhere far away.

Lucy, quite unaware that she’d dropped a bombshell, piped up, ‘And I’ll have a drink of orange, please, Grandma.’

As the evening progressed the atmosphere was friendly and relaxed and Annabel thought wistfully that, whether the mother figure was missing or not, this was family life at its most enjoyable.

When it was time for Lucy to go to bed Mary said, ‘We’ll let Daddy off bathtime tonight, shall we, Lucy? Annabel is our guest and it is only good manners that he should entertain her while I get you ready for bed.’

Aaron was smiling, but there was a glint in his eye that puzzled Annabel, as if messages were flashing between his mother and himself, but Mary’s expression was innocent enough and Lucy had no problems with the suggestion. She trotted off obediently after planting a shy kiss on Annabel’s cheek.

When she’d gone Annabel said into the silence that had fallen, ‘Lucy looks fine, Aaron. Are you satisfied with her progress?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. I am. That was a nightmare I wouldn’t want to repeat.’

‘Your anguish at the time would have been understandable in any case,’ she told him, ‘but after hearing what happened to your wife it must have been a nightmare. Do you want to tell me about it? I’ve told you about myself, so perhaps it’s your turn to unburden yourself.’

That wasn’t exactly true. She’d only told him about her past, not the miserable present.

‘I would rather we could have kept it light this evening,’ he said after a moment’s silence, ‘but Lucy, bless her, says whatever is in her mind, like most children do, so I suppose I don’t mind talking about Eloise. I think about her enough.

‘We were on holiday in Cornwall and having a picnic on one of its fabulous beaches. Mum and Eloise were sunbathing and Dad was swimming out in the cove. We’d forgotten something, the sunblock cream to be exact, and I’d taken Lucy, who was only a toddler then, back to the hotel with me to get it.

‘While I was gone my dad got into difficulties. He was a strong swimmer but wasn’t aware of the dangerous currents there, and on seeing his distress Eloise went in after him. By the time I got back they’d gone. Swept out to sea. The next time Mum and I saw them was when their bodies were washed up further along the coast a few days later.’

‘That is awful,’ she choked.

He nodded. ‘My mother thinks I should be looking for someone to take Eloise’s place, that I’ve been on my own long enough. But who is to say that the right wife for me would be the right mother for Lucy?’

Annabel averted her gaze from his. She would have settled for being just a one-parent family, given the chance, and no child of hers would ever have been subjected to the awful feeling of rejection that had tarnished her life. But she understood what this caring father was saying.

‘I would imagine that is a problem that faces many single parents when they consider remarrying,’ she said slowly, ‘but a child can be just as miserable with its birth parents as with someone not of its own blood. I don’t know you all that well, Aaron, but you strike me as a person who would rarely make a wrong decision, either in your work or in your personal life, because you are cool and calm in everything you do.’

She wasn’t to know that he was feeling anything but cool and calm at that moment. She was getting to him as no other woman had since he’d lost Eloise, and it was much more than just sexual chemistry.

In the car earlier she’d told him about her loveless childhood and he’d wanted to hold her close and soothe away the hurt from a friendship point of view, nothing more. And now, with a wisdom that no doubt came from her own experience, she was putting him right about his own life. Making him see that it could be possible to find happiness with someone else.

Sitting beside him with cheeks warming at her own temerity, Annabel was facing up to the fact that she liked this man a lot. She’d had respect for him from the moment of their meeting, even though on that awful morning he’d been brusque and dubious of her capabilities. But now it was something deeper than that. To compare Randy Graham with Aaron would be like putting a fake next to the real thing.

It wouldn’t be wise to let her feelings run away with her, though. The fact that they were having this discussion showed that Aaron saw her as merely someone to talk to. He would never have said what he had if he’d any yearnings towards her. And was it surprising? He must see her as the person she had become, a washed-out, grieving loner, and for the first time in months she wanted to be different.

Aaron was smiling to conceal his own thoughts.

‘I don’t know about me. But you have a wisdom all of your own. It’s good to be able to talk to someone who understands.’ He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

It was just a friendly gesture, but she felt some of the chill leave her blood and for a crazy moment wondered what it would be like to sit in this charming room with him every evening after a hard day on the wards and in Theatre, with Lucy sleeping contentedly above.

His mother came in at that moment carrying a tray with coffee and pastries on it, and Aaron got to his feet.

‘Lucy is waiting for a goodnight kiss,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘I won’t pour the coffee until you come down.’

When he’d gone Mary said, ‘And how are things with you, Dr Swain? Are you settling in all right in your new surroundings?’

Annabel wasn’t sure whether she was referring to the dismal flat or Barnaby’s itself, so she just said, ‘Yes, fine, thank you, Mrs Lewis. And it’s not Dr Swain when I’m out and about. It’s Annabel.’

Aaron’s mother smiled. ‘And my name is Mary,’ she said, straightening an imaginary crease in her skirt with a plump hand. ‘So what do you think of my son?’

Annabel’s eyes widened. What was that supposed to mean?

‘I don’t know Aaron all that well, er...Mary, but from what I’ve seen of him I think he is a doting father and a good doctor.’

‘I keep telling him he should marry again,’ the other woman said wistfully. ‘I won’t be here for ever and...’ She’d left the sentence unfinished but it made her concerns clear.

‘I can understand how you feel,’ Annabel told her, squirming inwardly, ‘but that is up to him, isn’t it?’

They could hear his feet on the stairs and Mary sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. We’re happy enough as we are, but the future does worry me sometimes.’

Not as much as it worries me, Annabel thought wryly, but their anxieties had different sources. She would be happy if she could find some direction in her life. Except for the job that she adored it was empty, and likely to remain so, with the hurt inside her that Aaron seemed to be so strangely aware of.

Maybe she should have told him her problems in return for him telling her his. He might have had some words of wisdom to impart, but her feelings were still too raw to bring out into the open and where his loss had been due to a cruel twist of fate, hers had been self-inflicted up to a point. She was a doctor, for heaven’s sake, and should have taken better precautions against pregnancy. Instead of letting her longing for a child overcome common sense.

* * *

As Aaron drove her home Annabel was thinking that it had been a strange and unsettling evening. She’d been allowed into the warm circle of a close family, depleted though they were, and at the same time had experienced the pleasure to be had from gracious living.

Maybe it had done her some good, seeing how other people lived. If it had lifted her out of the doldrums, Aaron would have done her a favour by inviting her to his home.

But before leaving him she had to get one thing clear. She was certain there had been no ulterior motive when he had mentioned the problems of remarriage, but she had a strong feeling that his mother’s remarks had been aimed differently. That she had been sounding her out as a prospective candidate for the position of second wife and stepmother to Lucy.

Grateful for the shadowy interior of the car and aware that they would be back at the flat within minutes, she said casually, ‘While you were upstairs with Lucy I got the impression that your mother was vetting me for the marriage market.’

He groaned and, taking his eyes off the road for a moment, scrutinised her face, searching for a guide to her feelings on the matter.

‘I’m sorry about that, Annabel,’ he said quietly. ‘She means well, but Mum is letting her anxieties about the future take over. I invited you to dine with us as a thank you for what you did for Lucy.’

So let’s get that straight, he seemed to be saying, and she had to admit she was just a bit disappointed. Was she so muted down and drab that he didn’t see anything attractive about her?

When he stopped the car in front of the flats she turned to him and said softly, ‘It’s been a lovely evening, Aaron. I’ve really enjoyed it. Thank you so much for inviting me.’

He observed her with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘What? In spite of having to listen to my problems and then having my mother follow them up with her broad hints about my solitary state? For all she knew, you might be married or already have someone in your life. Have you?’

His tone had been apologetic, but that last question had come like a bullet from a gun, as if her answer was going to matter.

‘No. I haven’t,’ she told him, not knowing whether to be annoyed or amused at the question. ‘I’m not married, engaged, in a partnership or anything else. Being alone has its advantages. I’m free to do whatever I please.’

‘But you haven’t always been alone, have you?’ he asked, amazed how relieved he was to know she was free.

‘No. I haven’t. But I am now.’

Aaron said no more. There was something in the tone of her voice that told him not to pursue it. Instead, he asked in a lighter tone. ‘Well? Are you going to ask me in?’

She smiled. ‘No. I’m not. I know you’re bursting to see the inside of my rabbit hutch, but I don’t think it would be a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you have some preconceived idea that it’s going to be dreadful.’

‘Right, then. I’d better be off. Have a nice weekend, Annabel,’ he said, adding with a boyish grin that was oddly appealing. ‘Keep taking the vitamins.’

As she was opening the passenger door of the car he leaned across and kissed her lightly on the cheek. As she gazed at him in surprise he said, ‘Just a kiss between friends. Nothing to do with the marriage market.’ And leaving her standing beside the door of the accommodation complex he drove off.

* * *

She’d seen another side to Aaron tonight, Annabel told herself as she lay on her hard single bed in the flat’s bedroom. The brisk mantle of efficiency that he wore at Barnaby’s had fallen from his shoulders and he’d let her see that he had his problems just like anyone else.

It was a terrible thing that had happened to his family. He and Mary had both suffered a double tragedy. Aaron had lost his wife and father and his mother her husband and daughter-in-law.

They’d been taken from them in a matter of minutes and he must have wished a thousand times that he’d never gone back to the hotel. But as they were both well aware, lots of people would do lots of things differently if they could see into the future.

If she’d known the misery she was letting herself in for when she’d been attracted by a lazy smile and an even lazier accent, she would have behaved differently. Husband-stealer she was not, and Randy had shown himself to be much less of a man than she’d thought he was when it had all come out.

It was strange how one man could deceive his wife without batting an eyelid and another should still be grieving for a woman who had died four long years ago.

Yet that was how it was. Aaron had made it painfully plain that he had no designs on her. To such an extent that she almost wished he had.

She sympathised with his mother’s efforts on his behalf but he shouldn’t be put in the humiliating position of advertising for a wife. It was a cold-blooded procedure and although he had barely touched her, something told her that when Aaron took a new wife, if he ever did, there would be nothing cold-blooded about it.

CHAPTER THREE

IF HE’D been light-hearted back there at the flats Aaron was not so as he drove home. Annabel wasn’t the only one thinking it had been an unsettling evening. He felt that they’d all behaved out of character except Lucy.

For his own part, his interest in the doctor who’d saved Lucy’s life had increased rather than diminished while she’d been their guest. He’d seen her in a new light. For one thing, she’d taken trouble with her appearance. He didn’t flatter himself that it had been on his account, but it had certainly registered, and for another, he’d admired the dignified brevity with which she’d described her family life while within the loving circle that was his.

Annabel had been like a flower opening up before his eyes and he hoped that she wouldn’t have closed up again when they met on the wards at Barnaby’s on Monday.

He’d had no intention of burdening her with his past and present griefs, but Lucy and his mother had set the ball rolling and he’d had to say something. Once he’d started it had been oddly comforting to be talking to an outsider who’d listened with sympathy and understanding, while making no demands on him.

And an ‘outsider’ Annabel must have certainly felt when he’d been so keen to emphasise that she’d been there merely in the role of someone to whom thanks were due. She must have thought him tactless and rude, though she’d shown no sign of it.

And then there’d been his mother! Sounding Annabel out and showing how anxious she was for him to find himself another wife, when he had no such intentions. It wasn’t like her. She was the kindest and most thoughtful of mortals. But something had got into her and they were going to have to talk it through.

All was silent as he let himself back into the house and as he stripped off and flung himself on top of the covers of his bed Annabel’s face kept coming to mind.

‘No. I haven’t got anyone in my life,’ she’d told him back there in the car, and he’d known immediately that that hadn’t always been the case. Had it been a past relationship that had taken the colour from her cheeks?

Whatever it was, he had a strong feeling that if he’d become more interested in her during the evening, his mother’s comments would have put the flattener on any stirrings Annabel might have been experiencing. If she gave him a wide berth on Monday morning, he wouldn’t be surprised...

* * *

But he was to see her again before Monday. On Saturday afternoon Aaron took Lucy into the town for some new shoes, and as they were leaving the shop he saw Annabel cross the road, looking in the window of an estate agent.

‘We meet again,’ he said from behind her a few seconds later, and she swung round in surprise.

‘Yes, we do,’ she agreed, adding with a special smile for Lucy, who was fishing her new shoes out of the bag for her to see, ‘You’ll be surprised to see that I’m looking at property.’

‘Yes. What has prompted that?’

She had a smile for him now and Aaron thought if she had been upset the night before it obviously hadn’t persisted.

‘What do you think?’ she replied. ‘Going back to the flat after spending the evening in your palatial residence.’

‘Really? So last night did do you some good.’

She could have told him that she’d also woken up feeling ready to face the day, which had to be a step in the right direction, and that the carrier bag she was holding held some smart new clothes. But it wouldn’t do for Aaron to think he’d had that much influence on her.

Lucy was dangling a pair of black school shoes under her nose and Annabel bent to admire them.

‘So do I take it that you’ll soon be going back to school?’ she said as eyes blue as the sky looked up into hers.

‘Yes,’ Lucy said. ‘On Monday. I’ve been away a long time. I’ll be behind in my work and all my friends will have forgotten me.’

‘I’ve told Lucy that the teacher knows she had a nasty accident and won’t expect her to catch up straight away,’ Aaron said gravely as his eyes met hers above Lucy’s blonde head.

‘Yes, of course,’ Annabel agreed, ‘and I’m sure that your friends won’t have forgotten you. I imagine that they all think you very brave having such a serious operation and coming back to school looking just the same as before.’

‘Can I tell them that the doctor who mended my head is my friend?’

‘Er...yes, by all means,’ Annabel said, aware of the amusement in Aaron’s dark eyes. She watched it change to surprise as she suggested, ‘Maybe we could take Lucy’s class on a tour of the hospital. It would increase her standing and they would know what to expect if ever any of them have to be admitted.’

‘Good thinking!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m sure that she would love to show them where you ‘‘mended’’ her head. But getting back to your house-hunting. Have you seen anything that appeals to you?’

‘Not yet. I’d like something small and classy with open views.’

‘There’s a small coach house for sale next door to my place,’ he said. ‘It isn’t cheap, but it’s certainly classy.’

He could have gone on to say, It belongs to a friend of mine who spends a lot of time abroad. When he’s away I show prospective buyers round. But he was already wishing he hadn’t spoken.

For one thing his mother would be sure to read something into the suggestion, even though it had been totally spontaneous, and Annabel also might think it came from what had been said the previous evening. So instead he followed it up with, ‘Though on second thoughts I think it would be too big for you.’

‘No harm in having a look though, is there?’ she said with her newfound enthusiasm carrying her along.

‘No. I suppose not,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘You could ring the agent and ask for a viewing.’

‘Supposing I like it,’ she said slowly, aware that he was having second thoughts, ‘how would you feel having me living next door? Seeing me all day at the hospital and having me almost on your doorstep for the rest of the time.’

‘It wouldn’t bother me,’ he replied unconvincingly. ‘There’s a high hedge between the two properties and we don’t see much of the present owner.’

‘That’s because Uncle Richard is always away,’ Lucy chipped in. ‘Why can’t you show Annabel round his house, Daddy? Like you do with all the other people?’

Annabel had to hand it to him. Aaron had been caught out but he didn’t bat an eyelid. He merely said, ‘If Annabel wants to view Uncle Richard’s house, Lucy, she is better seeing it with someone she doesn’t know. I wouldn’t want to influence her.’

‘I think you already have,’ she told him coolly. ‘Maybe I’ll give it a miss after all.’

She bent and kissed Lucy’s soft cheek.

‘I’ll be thinking of you on Monday,’ she told her. ‘I hope you have a good day and I won’t forget what I said about your class being shown round the hospital.’

For her father Annabel had a curt nod.

‘I’ll be seeing you, Aaron,’ she said, and he knew from the tone of her voice that it was more of a threat than a promise.

You certainly handled that well, he told himself as he walked Lucy back to the car. It was your suggestion that Annabel look at Richard’s house, but the words were barely out of your mouth before you were backing off. Go on at this rate and she’ll be thinking she’s got something catching. If you wanted to put her off you made a first-class job of it. For someone who always knows exactly where he’s heading, you’re acting like an indecisive ditherer.

* * *

It was Sunday afternoon and a boisterous wind was lifting the dead leaves in the garden of the house next door as Aaron stared thoughtfully through his study window.

Richard Clements, who lived there, was a television producer and often away. He would appear out of the blue, then a couple of days later be off on his travels again.

He was unmarried, which Aaron often thought was just as well. For any woman he took up with would be left alone for long periods while he was working. Yet he always seemed to have some female company around when he came home for one of his brief stays.

The winter dusk was falling and as Aaron was about to turn away the lights came on suddenly next door. His eyes widened when he saw Richard framed in the window opposite and with him, of all people, was Annabel.

So he hadn’t put her off, he thought incredulously. She was doing the opposite to what he’d expected, viewing Richard’s house. If the russet-haired charmer who was his friend and neighbour was on his usual form, she would be eating out of his hand.

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