Two strong arms reached for her and steadied her, and Abby looked up distractedly, to find herself staring into Matt’s laughing blue eyes.

‘I know we said that we were going to be working closely together,’ he murmured huskily, keeping hold of her, his hands coming to rest at the base of her spine, ‘but I hadn’t expected it to be quite such a riveting experience.’ He ran his glance over her. ‘Not that I’m complaining, of course. This has to be one of the bonuses of the job.’

‘Yes, well…um…I think I can manage now, thank you. I…um…need to go and find my patient. He should be arriving any minute now.’ Her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t think straight with his arms wrapped around her that way.

Dear Reader

What a great start to the New Year! Mills & Boon is celebrating its centenary—a hundred years of exciting romance and the joy of compelling love stories to warm our hearts. As a writer and an avid reader of romantic fiction, I’m delighted to be part of, and to be able to share with you, this momentous occasion in Mills and Boon’s history.

I think you’ll agree with me that the world has changed a great deal in those fabulous years. We have the wonder of technology to make our lives easier and help us to communicate better with one another. The world has been opened up for us through the media of the internet and television. Every day people from across the continents appear on our television screens, and at the touch of a button we can send missives out into cyberspace.

There is a downside to all this, though. What if you later regret what you’ve sent, or, heaven forbid, you meet up with the object of your scorn?

Television and technology both play a part in bringing together Abby and Matt in my latest book, THE DOCTOR’S LONGED-FOR FAMILY.

Can you imagine the excitement of a TV celebrity coming to a hospital near you? No? Neither can Abby Byford, and she certainly doesn’t take kindly to the idea of having a camera crew following her around as she works. As things turn out, though, Matt Calder proves to be far more persistent than she might have imagined.

I’ve been able to bring Abby and Matt’s story to you by being a contributor to this milestone in Mills & Boon’s history.

My very best wishes to you all

Joanna

The Doctor’s Longed-For Family
Joanna Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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When JOANNA NEIL discovered Mills & Boon®, her life-long addiction to reading crystallised into an exciting new career writing Medical™ Romance. Her characters are probably the outcome of her varied lifestyle, which includes working as a clerk, typist, nurse and infant teacher. She enjoys dressmaking and cooking at her Leicestershire home. Her family includes a husband, son and daughter, an exuberant yellow Labrador and two slightly crazed cockatiels. She currently works with a team of tutors at her local education centre, to provide creative writing workshops for people interested in exploring their own writing ambitions.

Contents

COVER

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

‘WELCOME to Matt Calder’s website. You might like to take a look at the guest book area while you’re here. There’s a message from a Dr Abby Byford, who wants to know why we think it necessary to take the TV cameras along with the ambulance crew when they go out on call.’

Abby stared at the computer screen, her green eyes widening, her mouth opening in shock. She had imagined that her brief email would have been hidden away somewhere, for his eyes only, or virtually out of sight, or at the very least that it would be lost in an electronic void. She hadn’t expected him to reply, or even to use it on his website, yet here was her name, blazoned across the Internet for all to see. He was actually singling her out for attention. Why would he want to do that?

‘Is this what passes for entertainment these days? she asks. Why on earth would anyone want to sit and watch injured people having their wounds assessed and then follow them as they go through the process of treatment?’

Abby had been taking bites out of her breakfast toast while she was on the move this morning, but now she let it slide down onto her plate while she stared transfixed at the monitor. Her long, honey-gold hair tumbled down around her face in a wild mass of curls and she swiftly pushed it back out of the way.

‘I’m sure many of you will have a view on this, and I’d be glad to see your comments on the website. My own feeling is that we all have a choice in the matter. It’s called the channel change button on the remote control, or, if you have the energy, there’s always the off switch on the television set.’

Her jaw dropped. That was a total put-down, wasn’t it, and what had she done to deserve that kind of treatment? This man, Calder, was impossible. OK, so his television programme had disturbed her, enough to prompt her to send a carefully worded message his way. After all, he had invited comments at the end of the programme, but surely she didn’t merit that kind of sarcasm? Hers had been a perfectly legitimate query, but his reply was a pure dig at her expense in front of the thousands who accessed his site.

Her appetite had suddenly disappeared, but it was replaced by a growing rumble of annoyance. She didn’t have time for any of this. She was supposed to be getting ready for work, and all she had meant to do was to swiftly check her emails in case any problems had cropped up overnight. Only her friend’s message had included a link to the website. ‘You have to check this out,’ she had written. ‘You seem to have stirred something up.’

Now Abby was rapidly regretting the impulse that had led her to click on the link. Merely thinking about the arrogance of the man brought a red haze to sizzle in front of her eyes. Why had she even bothered to switch on the television the other night? If she had left well alone, she might never have caught sight of his TV show, but she had left it on in the background as she’d dealt with her emails that evening. As she was already online it had been all too easy to let her emotions get away from her and write in to the address given.

They had all been talking about it in A and E, where she worked. ‘He has such a wry sense of humour,’ Helen, her specialist registrar, had said, ‘and when he’s on TV he’s absolutely brilliant as a presenter. Everybody’s watching his show, Emergency Call. It’s on once a week, in the evening, and he has a weekly slot that deals with different medical topics. It tends to throw up a controversy once in a while. He’s interviewed on radio and TV talk shows from time to time, and he writes occasionally, too.’

At least on radio, Abby thought, the listening public wouldn’t have been drawn to watch the suffering of the poor young woman who had slipped and fallen down the stairs last night. She was heavily pregnant, and Abby had felt her pain along with her as she had been filmed being carefully transferred into the ambulance.

‘It looks as though Megan is going into labour,’ Matt Calder had said softly to the camera. ‘We’ll be by her side through every stage, from here to the delivery room.’

The baby, though, hadn’t wanted to wait that long, and soon the presenter had said, ‘I don’t think we’re going to make it to the hospital before this infant is born.’

Remembering, Abby felt her hackles begin to rise all over again. Why was everyone so obsessed with fly-on-the-wall coverage these days?

Her fingers were already stabbing at the keyboard, and she banged out another message to Matt Calder.

‘I stand by what I said before,’ she wrote. ‘Isn’t your programme taking things a stretch too far? Do we really need to pry into every aspect of people’s lives, even stooping so low as to let cameras intrude on the special, intensely personal moment when a woman gives birth? It’s bad enough that the mother’s privacy is violated, but doesn’t it ever occur to anyone that the infant concerned is being exploited?’

Fuelled by a growing sense of righteousness, she added, ‘What depths will be plundered next, I wonder? Will someone be filmed saying, “Oh, I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel too well. I think I might not be able to make it through the night, please excuse me while I suck in my last breath. Would you be sure and show the film to my mother? I did so want her to be here with me at the end.” How very sad that we have to live our lives through other people.’

Pressing her lips together, she hit the ‘send’ button and flung her diatribe out into cyberspace. She stood for a moment glaring at the screen, and then she switched off the computer and went to finish getting ready for work.

Her cottage was in a valley at the edge of the Chilterns, and she had a half-hour drive ahead of her to reach the hospital, which was on the outskirts of London. She would need all of that time in order to calm herself down.

It was only when she was sliding into her car a while later that she realised that she had done it again. She had acted without giving herself time to stop and think things through. Had she gone too far? Maybe that sarcasm had been a tad over the top, but something about the show and the website, along with Matt Calder’s all too persuasive manner, had managed to ruffle her feathers. Was it possible that she had overreacted?

Perhaps the truth of the matter was that she was beginning to feel stressed and overworked. Her working life was very different from that of Dr Calder. She had spent long hours the previous day in A and E, doing her best to help the children in her care. She was the doctor in charge of the paediatric emergency department, and it was a responsible job, one that weighed heavily on her at times. She would be the first to admit that it sometimes took its toll on her.

Maybe that was the reason she had responded so badly to the programme. The truth was, Dr Calder, the latest hot new doctor out there enjoying celebrity status, had managed to graze a raw nerve with his bright and breezy invitation to watch events unfold on TV. His role as lead presenter was to comment on events as the trauma team went on its travels attending to casualties. What did he know of hospital targets and patient throughput and the daily anguish of dealing with severely ill patients?

His was a light and fluffy job, involving nothing more than going out and about with the paramedics, or taking part in chat shows on the radio, writing a blog on his website or spouting his own type of wisdom on a variety of health issues. One of them she’d even glanced at briefly, a magazine article on whether or not parents should let their children be vaccinated, and that was a subject guaranteed to put her on edge.

Not that she had seen or heard any of this up until now. She only had Helen’s version of what his work entailed and Helen appeared to be heavily biased in his favour.

‘He’s incredibly good-looking,’ she’d enthused. ‘Those lovely blue eyes…and his voice…He has such a deep, warm way of talking that he makes me go weak at the knees. He can come and assess my symptoms any day.’

In spite of herself, Abby had laughed. ‘You’re totally smitten, aren’t you?’

Helen had nodded. ‘Me and most of the women who work in A and E.’

For her part, Abby hadn’t paid much attention to the way he looked. She had only watched the programme in passing as she’d sat at the computer. He had been doing a voice-over some of the time, and mostly her gaze had been riveted to the young woman, Megan, who had been going through the throes of labour. The poor girl had been asking for painkillers, and a film of sweat had broken out on her brow.

Abby had switched off the TV set in a fit of annoyance. Was nothing sacred any more? She had been so fired up by the whole set of events that she had rattled off her comments without a second thought. It was only now, a couple of days later, that she had begun to regret her haste. She was a paediatrician, for heaven’s sake, a specialist in A and E, it ought to be beyond her to behave in such an impulsive manner. Why had she even bothered to write in? Hadn’t she anything better to do with her time?

And to send off another message at breakfast-time today, well, that had to be pure folly, hadn’t it? What on earth was wrong with her?

She pulled out on to the city road and flicked on the car radio so that she wouldn’t have to listen to her own thoughts any longer.

‘We’re glad to have you with us for our twice-weekly programme, Morning Surgery, with Dr Matt Calder,’ the radio host was saying in reverent tones, and Abby’s breath hissed into her lungs. ‘Before we open the door to the first patient, we just have time for a few words with our amiable physician.’ He paused. ‘Dr Calder, I see you’ve been going through your post in the last few minutes. What’s new for today?’ Abby’s fingers were poised to find the ‘off’ button, but she had to negotiate traffic and for the moment she let it ride.

‘Medical ethics seem to be on the agenda right now,’ Dr Calder replied. His voice floated over the airways, easygoing, friendly and compellingly smooth, and Abby had no doubt that he would be soothing troubled souls all over the nation.

‘People have been replying to the comment made by the doctor who objected to the cameras following patients to the emergency room. I have to say that opinion is divided on the matter, with some for and some against. We’ve actually had another, rather more strongly worded message from the doctor herself this morning, pointing out that what we’re doing is akin to exploitation.’

He proceeded to read out some of her hastily written comments, and Abby’s cheeks filled with heat. Having him repeat her words only served to add a new dimension to her embarrassment.

He had stopped to take a breath, and Abby could imagine him giving a wry smile. There was a definite inflection in his voice as he went on, ‘I tend to see it more as helping people to learn from others’ experiences. We hope that by televising these situations, others might be less afraid and better informed if they should find themselves in similar situations. We are very grateful to Megan and people like her who allow us to share their particular traumas. Some people are extraordinarily outgoing and generous in their outlook. We thank them heartily.’

Some people are extraordinarily outgoing and generous? Abby pressed her lips together. What did that make her? The way he spoke, the implication was that, in contrast, she was clearly a crabby spinster.

By now she had arrived in the grounds of the hospital. She switched off the radio with a jerking twist of her fingers and then she parked the car in her dedicated slot. Sliding out of the driver’s seat, she straightened up, locked the doors, and then pulled in a deep breath, assuming the mantle of consultant paediatrician. She had a difficult job to do, and it took every ounce of her reserves. She was the one who set the tone for the A and E department, and people had to be able to trust her to work efficiently and set in place a good atmosphere. Her colleagues relied on her to provide them with guidance and a good example, though what they would make of her recent outbursts via the website they all seemed to favour was anybody’s guess.

‘I’ve checked on all the patients in the observation ward,’ Helen said, coming to greet her a short time later. ‘Everyone seems fairly stable at the moment. I thought maybe you would want to transfer the six-year-old to the children’s ward, though. His breathing is still impaired, and he’s certainly not well enough to be sent home.’

Abby glanced at the boy’s chart. ‘Yes, I agree with you. As to the boy with the head injury, we’ll need to find him a bed, too. The others will probably be able to go home later today, but we’ll monitor them up until lunchtime.’

Helen nodded. ‘I’ll organise that. We seem to be busy this morning. There’s a full waiting room already and we have an incoming patient from a domestic accident, a girl who scalded herself.’

Abby winced. ‘It never ends, does it? There’s always some poor little scrap who ends up being hurt when it might have been avoided.’

She glanced at Helen. The registrar’s black hair was sleek and shining, expertly cut to fall neatly into place at the nape of her neck. It lifted and swirled in a delicate flurry as she turned her head.

‘You’re looking good today,’ Abby remarked. ‘Have you been to the hairdresser?’

The registrar grinned. ‘I thought I’d better make an effort,’ she murmured. ‘We have the interviews later today, remember. I figured I should do my best to look impeccably groomed and professional, as you asked me to sit in on them.’

‘Is that today?’ Abby grimaced. ‘I haven’t looked at the diary yet but, of course, you’re right. I remember thinking that I ought to put in another advertisement. Judging from the response we had, I don’t think we’re going to find the person we want. Most people want full-time work, but the budget won’t run to that. No wonder we’re run off our feet most of the time. We need more doctors, not to mention more specialist nurses and a whole load of other staff, like porters and other ancillary staff to take up some of the burden.’

‘You never know, we might get lucky. We could find someone who’ll be able to do the work of ten men.’

Abby chuckled. ‘We can always dream, can’t we?’

She went to check on the incoming patient, and for the next couple of hours she was busy dealing with youngsters and their various injuries. She tried, as ever, to push their distress to the back of her mind, and concentrated on providing pain relief and applying treatment that would promote healing and lessen their discomfort.

‘We’ve a child coming in from a traffic accident,’ the senior house officer told her. ‘It looks like a displaced midshaft femur fracture. He’s three years old. Apparently he ran into the road and the car driver didn’t manage to stop in time to avoid hitting him.’

‘OK, Sam. Make sure that trauma room four is ready to receive him. We’d better have Helen on standby if she’s free…and tell radiology to expect him for a CT scan.’

‘Will do.’ Sam moved away to set things in motion and Abby prepared to take over from the paramedics when they wheeled the little boy into the emergency room.

‘He was unconscious when we reached him,’ the paramedic told her. ‘An airway’s been put in, and we’ve set up two intravenous lines. His right thigh appears to be deformed from the impact.’

‘Thanks for that, Lewis.’ She glanced at him. ‘I’ll let you know how he gets on.’

He looked relieved. ‘Thanks, Abby. I’ll pop back later on. He’s such a tiny little thing. I hope he’ll do all right.’

‘So do I.’

He moved away and she began to swiftly examine the boy. ‘The abdomen is distended, with decreased bowel sounds,’ she told Sam when he returned to her side. ‘The pelvis is stable, but the thigh is swollen and tense. He’s still unresponsive. We’ll get a CT of the abdomen to check for any lacerations, and X-ray the leg to see what we’re dealing with. It will most likely need fixation, so you should ring for the orthopaedic surgeon to come and take a look.’

‘I’m on it.’ Sam hurried away once more, while Abby checked with the nurse as to the boy’s immediate care.

She was writing out the drugs requisition when a man came over to the trolley and said, ‘I think he may have banged his head on the road surface when the accident happened. I’m wondering if he might have a head injury as well as all his other problems.’

Abby glanced up at the man. ‘We’ll take care of him,’ she said. ‘We always check for head injury in these cases. Are you the boy’s father?’

‘No, but his parents are on their way. Apparently he was playing at a friend’s house when the accident happened.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Abby studied him a little more closely. Looking at him was way too distracting, she discovered. He was exceptionally good-looking, with hair that was midnight black, and he was around six feet tall, broad-shouldered and fit, with an athletic build that gave her the idea that he probably worked out regularly. He was wearing an expensively tailored, dark grey suit that sat well on him, and his shirt was a mid-blue, crisp and fresh-looking. She dragged her mind back to the task in hand.

‘So who are you?’ she asked. ‘Are you a relative?’

‘No. I was on my way to the hospital when I saw the accident happen, and I stopped to see if I could help in any way. I was concerned about the little fellow, and I just wanted to see how he was doing. I wanted to make sure that you didn’t rule out the possibility of a head injury. I think there might be some damage to his spleen as well.’

‘You sound very knowledgeable,’ Abby remarked as she started to write out the forms for Radiology. ‘Are you a doctor?’

‘Yes, that’s right, I am. I have a strong interest in A and E and the way these departments operate.’

‘Well, we’ll take care of him. You can rest assured that we’ll do everything that’s necessary to make certain he’s looked after properly,’ Abby told him.

She turned back to her small patient, making adjustments to the intravenous infusion she had set up, but after a while she realised that the man was still there, watching her every movement. Why was he so reluctant to leave?

She glanced up at him once more, remembering that he had said he had already been on his way to the hospital when the accident had happened. Her gaze drifted over the clean lines of the suit he was wearing. He certainly wasn’t dressed for a casual visit. That, and the fact that he seemed to be taking an interest in what she was doing, appeared to her to add up to one thing. He was probably one of the candidates for the part-time position they had advertised.

‘There’s no need for you to stay,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure the little boy’s parents will be arriving at any moment. If you’re here for the job interview, you could perhaps go and make yourself comfortable in the waiting room. I won’t be ready to start on them for a while yet, but I’ll ask one of the nurses to show you where you might go and get yourself a cup of coffee in the meantime, if you like. I’ll come and find you when I’ve finished here and let you know how he’s doing.’

‘Interview?’ He gave a slight frown, as though he had forgotten all about it, which wasn’t so unlikely, given his morning. Then his expression cleared, and he flicked a glance towards the name badge she was wearing.

He smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr Byford. I think I’ll do that. You’ve been very kind.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She called for a nurse to come and show him the way, and then she turned and gave her attention wholly to the infant, readying him for his CT scan.

‘OK, Sam,’ she said to the senior house officer. ‘You can take Adam along to Radiology now. I’ll be in trauma two with the girl with the respiratory infection if you need to find me.’

She didn’t give the stranger another thought, except to reflect that he had been unusually persistent. He had waited, and she guessed that he was satisfying himself that all the resuscitation processes were in place so that the child would stand the best chance of recovery.

No one could fault him for that, but wasn’t it a little out of place for him to attempt to ingratiate himself with the doctor in charge before any interviews had begun?

Then again, she could have been misjudging him. Her views on men in general had been skewed by the unfortunate events of her past, and it could be that her opinions had been soured.

He seemed to have the child’s interests at heart, and she would bear that in mind when next they met.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist. She was already running late. Why was it that in this job the pressure never let up? There was a never-ending stream of poor little souls who needed patching up, and she did her best, but sometimes her best just didn’t seem enough.

No wonder Matt Calder was able to breeze through life, charming people with his easy words and blithe spirit. What he knew about stress could probably be written on a postage stamp.

CHAPTER TWO

ABBY studied the results of Adam’s CT scan on the computer monitor. ‘There’s a small head injury,’ she told Sam, ‘but no sign of any swelling or haemorrhage, so that’s good news, at least.’

Her senior house officer nodded, an action that caused a lock of brown hair to waft down over his brow. He was a long, lean young man, always keen to learn, and she was glad to have him on her team.

She switched to views of the child’s abdomen, and indicated an area that was giving her cause for concern. ‘I’m a bit worried about these patches. There’s a laceration to the spleen and a slight contusion to the kidney. We’ll need to give him supportive treatment for those, as well as for the contusion we saw on the X-ray of his lungs.’ She frowned. ‘Our biggest problem, though, is the leg fracture. He’ll have to go up to Theatre to have the bones realigned and fixed in place.’

‘I had a word with the surgeon about that. He’s standing by right now.’

‘Good. Let’s transfer him over there straight away.’

‘I will. I’d like to stay with him, if I may, in case there are any complications. I could take him to observation as soon as Mr Bradley releases him from the recovery ward.’

‘That’s fine—as long as there’s nothing pressing to keep you down here?’ She sent him a questioning glance.

Sam gave that some thought. ‘There’s only one child that I’m worried about—a two-year-old who was brought in earlier on. She’s feverish and very unwell, showing symptoms of infection, but I’ve ordered lab tests and I’m waiting on the results. I’ve given her broad-spectrum antibiotics until we have something more specific to go on.’

‘It sounds as though you have everything in hand, and of course the nurse will page you if there’s a problem. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for Adam to be admitted. Let’s just hope that we have a bed free. I don’t think he’s in any condition to be moved to another hospital.’

Sam gave a wry smile. ‘I dare say you’ll be able to sweet-talk the ward sisters into finding something. You always seem to manage to get around the system when it’s really important.’

‘Maybe. We’ll see.’ Sweet-talking didn’t always work, and above all it was time-consuming. Time was yet another major resource she was short on these days, although staffing had to be her biggest headache.

She sucked in a breath at the reminder of what she had to do next. The interviews—she was going to have to get a move on, or her goose was well and truly cooked. Would the man who had come in earlier with three-year-old Adam still be waiting around?

She handed over to her second in command, and then paged Helen to let her know that she would be ready to see the candidates in twenty minutes or so. Taking a few moments to grab a coffee in the doctors’ lounge, she ran a brush through her hair and tried to tame the mass of wild corkscrew curls. It was a waste of time. No sooner had she put the brush down than her hair spiralled out of control once more, and she had to resort to placing a few clips in strategic places.

She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her green eyes stared back at her, shimmering like emeralds, and her lips were a delicate shade of pink, full and pleasantly shaped. She made a faint grimace. At least she didn’t look as bad as she felt. There was an element of battle-readiness in the warm flush of her cheeks, and perhaps that was the key to whatever it was that kept her going through thick and thin. She would not give up. She would not cave in when all around her chaos reigned.

The man was not in the waiting room when she went in search of him a short time later. Abby frowned, two small lines indenting her brow. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was disappointed not to find him there, but instinct had somehow nudged her into thinking that he had more staying power than that.

Obviously, she couldn’t rely on her instincts any more. They had certainly let her down where Craig had been concerned, hadn’t they? He had deceived her into thinking he cared for her, but now her ex-boyfriend was history and a couple of years had passed since she had learned the error of her ways. Her judgement of men was definitely awry.

‘Were you looking for me?’

Even coming out of nowhere like that, the voice was instantly recognisable. In fact, there was something oddly familiar about it, considering that she had only met the man that morning.

She turned away from the waiting-room door and looked up at the impeccably dressed doctor. ‘Oh, there you are. I wondered if you had given up on me and gone home.’

He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I was hoping that I would be able to talk to you again.’

His glance flickered over her, taking in the soft fabric of her top where it gently caressed the swell of her breasts, and then paused to linger on the smooth line of the skirt where it faithfully followed the curve of her hips. His gaze slid down over the shapeliness of her legs.

His glance lifted, capturing hers before taking a brief detour over the golden cascade of her hair. She felt a rush of heat fill her cheeks under that lazy scrutiny, but she could hardly object as she had been giving him much the same treatment earlier.

‘I could see that you were busy,’ he murmured, ‘and I took the opportunity to follow up on a couple of contacts while I was waiting for you.’

She had no idea what he meant by that, but she said evenly, ‘Perhaps we should go into my office? It’s just along the corridor.’ She was a touch early perhaps, but Helen would be along shortly.

‘That sounds like a good idea.’ He gave a half-smile and fell into step beside her as she began to walk in the direction she had indicated. ‘How is the boy—Adam?’

‘He’s undergoing surgery at the moment to fix the fractured femur. None of his other injuries appears to be life-threatening, so I’m hoping that he’ll be on the mend and ready to leave hospital in two or three weeks.’ She pushed open the door to her office and ushered him inside.

‘That’s good news. I’m glad to hear it.’ He stood to one side and closed the door behind her, giving her a smile, and it was as though sunlight had suddenly filled the room. She stood very still for a moment or two. The breath caught in her throat and she had to quell a sudden leap of her senses that threatened to overwhelm her.

It was very odd. This man was a total stranger to her, and her reaction to him was way overboard. She couldn’t imagine why she responded to his presence this way, but it must have something vaguely to do with her hormones, she guessed. They must be acting up, that was the answer.

‘So you think you might like to work here on a part-time basis?’ she murmured, indicating a chair where he could make himself comfortable. ‘Would you like to run through your CV for me while I hunt out your file?’

She began to search through the paperwork on her desk. There were four candidates for interview, and it occurred to her that she didn’t know which of them he was.

‘I don’t think I asked your name,’ she said, glancing across the table at him.

He hadn’t taken up the offer of a seat, but instead was looking around the room with interest, fingering the window-blind so that he could take a look at the view out onto the landscaped hospital grounds.

‘No, you didn’t,’ he murmured, letting the slats of the blind drop back into place. ‘Actually, I’m not here about the job at all. I was on my way to keep an appointment with the hospital chief when the accident happened. I was in the car behind the one that hit Adam and, as I said before, I stopped to see if there was anything I could do for him. I called for the ambulance and waited with him until the paramedics came along, and then I used their equipment to intubate him as he had slipped into unconsciousness. As soon as I could see that he was safely inside the ambulance, I followed him here.’

Abby stared at him. ‘Oh, I see.’ He had stopped to help the child and do what he could for him, and that was good to hear. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that he would act in that way. ‘Your intervention right from the start probably did more than anything to give him a better chance of recovery.’

Even so, she was a bit nonplussed about her mistake. She felt more than a little foolish now that he had explained what he was doing there, and she said flatly, ‘Did you manage to keep your appointment?’

He nodded. ‘One of them, at least. I still have to meet up with someone from Administration in half an hour or so.’

She blinked. ‘Oh.’ It occurred to her that she was beginning to sound repetitive, and she pulled herself together and sent him a puzzled glance. She said cautiously, ‘I can’t help feeling that I know you from somewhere. Your voice is familiar somehow, but I’m almost certain that we haven’t met.’

His mouth made a crooked shape. ‘Only through correspondence perhaps. I’m Matt Calder.’ He gave her a look from under half closed eyes. ‘From the TV programme Emergency Call. You are the same, “Abby Byford from the Chilterns”, who sent in the email about the show, aren’t you? Do you remember me now?’

She gave a sharp intake of breath. Her mouth dropped open and she quickly clamped it shut again. She stared at him in horror. ‘You,’ she said at last. ‘It’s you, of all people?’

She shook her head. This was the man who had splattered her email all over his website and read out her comments over the airwaves, and she had actually been civil to him. ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ she muttered. It felt for all the world as though she had invited the devil himself into her office.

He must have picked up on something of her train of thought because he said in a dry tone, ‘I realise that it must have come as a shock to you to find me here, but I can assure you that I’m a perfectly reasonable man. We may have conflicting views, but there’s nothing wrong with airing both sides of the argument, is there?’

She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she stood up and started to pace the room, more to work off her rising sense of irritation than anything else. ‘You ridiculed me,’ she said at last. ‘You talked about using the off switch as though I was a moron. I have to tell you, I just don’t believe that’s the answer. The problem goes much deeper than that. Your programme is an intrusion. You invade people’s privacy.’ She used the words as though they were weapons, stabbing at him.

He tipped his head slightly to one side, studying her as though she was an interesting specimen. ‘I don’t believe that’s so, and I wasn’t implying for an instant that you were lacking intelligence in any sense. I just feel that you can’t go on living in a time warp. This type of show is a regular on the media these days.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Then I have to say I think that’s a great pity.’

He frowned, but he wasn’t about to let up. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it would seem logical to switch off the TV set if you’re not happy with what is being shown. I happen to think that what we do is important. We keep people informed about what might happen in certain situations. We show them how the system works and help them to know what to do in an emergency. Knowledge is power after all, and you have to remember that the individuals we film have all given their consent for the footage to be shown on TV.’

Had they really? Abby sniffed in disagreement, a wave of exasperation rising up in her at his bland reply.

‘Have they?’ She scowled at him. ‘And how informed was that poor woman’s consent while she was struggling to cope with her labour? From what I could see, she was more concerned that someone would give her painkillers than what was going on all around her.’

‘You know, these programmes don’t go out live on air, and if it makes you feel better, I can assure you that I made certain that we had Megan’s full consent. We asked her again after she’d had the benefit of analgesics and time to think it through. I feel that we were very discreet in the way we filmed the birth, and I don’t think the finished product would upset many people. Nothing was shown that couldn’t be watched on daytime television.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion, though I’ll grant that some attempt was made to preserve her dignity. That’s something at least, I suppose.’ It was a concession of sorts, but she had to drag it up from deep within her. By now she’d definitely had her fill of Dr Matt Calder. ‘It still seems like an intrusion to me.’

She straightened her shoulders and went on, ‘I want to thank you again for what you did for the little boy…for Adam. I’m sure his parents will be very grateful to you for that.’ She hesitated for a moment, and then added, ‘As you’re not here for an interview, I hope you’ll understand if I say goodbye to you now and show you out. I have four other people to see, and when I’m finished here I have patients to attend to.’

Her green eyes flickered. He, on the other hand, probably had nothing more pressing to do than to keep a late lunch appointment with a TV executive.

He didn’t appear to be at all fazed by her dismissal of him. Instead, he reached for her hand, taking it between his palms, and said, ‘It’s been interesting to meet you, Dr Byford. Perhaps we’ll have the chance to chat again later today after my appointment with your admin department. I’d very much like to look in on Adam to see how he is doing after his surgery.’

‘I dare say that’s a possibility.’ Abby couldn’t think straight with him holding her hand that way, and she wasn’t about to commit herself to anything. With any luck, she would be engrossed in her work by then and well out of reach of this man.

He let her go, and slowly her senses began to settle down once more. She felt hot all over and her head was filled with cotton-wool clouds that only dissipated once he had taken a step back from her. It was just as well they did, because she had work to do. How was she supposed to conduct interviews with her brain in absent mode?

She saw him out of the room, but as she walked out into the corridor with him, she saw that Helen was hurrying towards them. The registrar stopped in her tracks, looking at him in wonder.

‘You’re Matt Calder from the TV, aren’t you?’ she said in an oddly breathless tone. ‘I can’t tell you how much I enjoy your programme…and your website…and I always try to catch your radio slot whenever it’s being aired while I’m driving to work.’ She stared at him in open-eyed wonder. ‘Are you here for the A and E post? Please, say that you are…I’ll be the envy of all my friends if you decide to come and work here.’

Matt smiled at her. ‘Actually, no, I’m not. I wish it were otherwise, but I’m really only free for a few mornings a week.’

‘That’s all right. That’ll do fine,’ Helen said, a note of eagerness in her voice. ‘Whatever you can spare—anything—that would be great by me.’ Her eyes were wide with anticipation.

Matt gave a soft laugh. ‘I’m glad you think so. I’m sure we would work very well together, given the chance, but, alas, I have other commitments at the moment. I’m filming over the next couple of weeks because we still have to do four more shows to complete the series.’

‘Couldn’t you do the show from here?’ Helen was clearly getting desperate now, and Abby gave her a sharp nudge with the toe of her shoe.

‘What?’ Helen reluctantly turned her gaze to Abby.

‘I think Dr Calder is going to be too busy to do that,’ Abby said in an even tone. ‘Besides, we shouldn’t delay him any longer. He has an appointment to keep.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Helen murmured. She turned her gaze back to him. ‘Do you really? That’s such a shame.’

‘I do. Dr Byford is quite right. I have to be somewhere else in a few minutes, but you’ve certainly given me food for thought and I’ll bear your suggestion in mind. Perhaps when my recording of Emergency Call comes to an end, I’ll have more time to spare.’ Matt threw a brief sideways glance in Abby’s direction, and she wondered if he was deliberately trying to rile her. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet both of you.’

‘Believe me, the pleasure was all mine,’ Helen said huskily.

Abby tugged on her arm and pulled her into the office as Matt turned away and began to stride down the corridor. ‘You’ve obviously taken leave of your senses,’ she hissed. ‘What are you on?’

‘Pheromones,’ Helen replied in a distracted voice. ‘Sheer, unadulterated male pheromones and animal magnetism. He has it in droves. He should bottle it. He’d make a fortune.’

Abby made a wry face. ‘I think you’d better take a minute to pull yourself together,’ she said. ‘We have work to do.’

Helen sighed. ‘I suppose we do, but I can tell you now, not one of the candidates is going to stand up to what I have in mind, not after that.’

‘Then I suggest you come back down to planet Earth, and make it quick,’ Abby said briskly. ‘We have to do some serious interviewing. I need to find someone who can fit in with the department and take some of the burden off our shoulders.’

‘Oh, well, if you put it that way…’

A couple of hours later, Abby had to admit that they were no nearer to solving their problem. ‘The trouble is, the hours we’re offering people are either too few or too many,’ she told Helen. ‘Nothing seems to fit in with what the interviewees had in mind, and from our point of view we need someone who has strong paediatric qualifications. I don’t think that any of those people would be able to work under pressure. They just don’t seem to have the experience.’

‘It looks as though another advert will have to go in, then?’ Helen queried.

‘I guess so. I just wonder if we’ll get any more response than we had the first time around.’

They made their way back to A and E, and she went to check on the progress of three-year-old Adam. He had come through everything all right, and it cheered her up that she could say as much to the distraught parents who were at his bedside.

‘Would you come and take a look at the girl in room one?’ Sam asked a little later. ‘She’s the two-year-old that I mentioned earlier. I’m beginning to be quite worried about her. She hasn’t had her full range of vaccinations because of illness in the past, so until the tests come back, I’ve no idea what I’m dealing with. She isn’t responding to antibiotics, and her fever is raging. Her heart rate is fast, as well as her breathing, and the pulse oximetry reading is very low. Do you think we need to do a lumbar puncture?’

They were already walking towards the treatment room. ‘That’s a very invasive process,’ Abby said. ‘Is there any sign of a rash?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Not as such, but she appears to be very ill. I’m afraid that she’s not responding to treatment, and that she might be going into septic shock. It seems as though there’s a systemic inflammatory response.’

Abby looked at the toddler and her heart immediately went out to the child. She was dreadfully ill, unresponsive, and a brief examination left Abby concerned that her circulation was shutting down, despite the resuscitation procedures they had put in place.

The parents were tearful, pleading with her to do something for their baby.

‘I know this is difficult for you,’ she told them. ‘Lucy is very ill, but we’re doing everything possible to help her. It looks as though she has a bacterial infection of some sort, possibly a form of pneumonia, and so far it isn’t responding to treatment. I’m going to change the antibiotics and add something to assist her circulation. We just have to hang in there and wait for the medicine to take effect.’

Turning to Sam, she said in an undertone, ‘We’ll add a vasopressor to assist the blood flow, and a steroid to see if that will do something to reduce the inflammation.’

Sam looked anxious, but she said softly, ‘You’re doing all right. You’ve done everything possible.’

‘I hope it’s enough.’

She nodded. It was frightening to see a child looking so ill, and Lucy’s desperate condition weighed heavily on her mind as she left the room.

Glancing across the expanse of the department, she caught sight of Matt Calder coming in through the main door, and her first instinct was to walk in the opposite direction. She resisted the impulse. Whatever her feelings towards him, she had a job to do, and she couldn’t simply take an escape route and avoid him.

Then she saw that he wasn’t alone. He had with him the head of administration, and the two of them were chatting amicably, almost as though they were old friends.

A nurse handed her a chart outlining another patient’s progress, and she quickly checked the details on it before adding her signature and handing it back. ‘You can reduce the observations to half-hourly,’ she told the girl. ‘His condition seems to be improving at last.’

‘I’ll do that.’ The nurse hurried away, and Abby headed for the trauma room so that she could examine a child who had just been brought in.

‘May we interrupt you for a moment?’ the head of administration queried gently.

‘Of course.’ She gave him a polite smile. She had nothing against the man personally, but his department was forever coming up with new edicts to be followed or targets that had to be met, and not one of them ever made her job any easier. The only way he and his kind would ever understand the constraints she was under would be if he was to try working at the rock face, but that wasn’t likely to happen in a month of Sundays.

‘I believe you’ve already met my friend, Matt, here?’ His smile was encouraging. Clearly he expected an enthusiastic response.

‘Yes, we ran into each other earlier today.’ So they were pals, were they? Abby mused.

‘Good, good. Then you two already have a head start. Matt’s writing an article about what goes on in A and E. You know the sort of thing…the challenges you come up against in your daily work, the kind of cases you see on a regular basis. Perhaps you could help him out? I can’t think of a better person to show him around.’

Abby glanced at Matt and forced a smile. ‘I don’t know about giving you the grand tour. It will be more a case of following me around as I work and getting questions in where you can, I should imagine. I don’t have the luxury of free time, but you’re welcome to tag along.’

The head of administration looked a trifle disconcerted at that, but Matt responded well enough.

‘That would be excellent, thank you. I really don’t want to put you out in any way.’

Didn’t he? So why did she get the feeling she was being coerced into doing this? Anyway, she wasn’t going to spend too much time worrying about it, whatever either of them thought about her manner to them.

The trouble with men in authority, from her experience, was that they expected to have everything work their way, and it didn’t matter who they trod on to get to where they wanted to be.

Wasn’t that what Craig had done? Her ex-boyfriend had begged her to help him study for his exams, had picked her brains, and then he had walked all over her to get the promotion she had been after. He had taken their shared research paper, the one she had worked on intensively and had been struggling to perfect for over a year, and he had taken all the credit for it himself, using what had mostly been her work to wow the interview board with his so-called expertise.

‘I was on my way to see a patient,’ she murmured. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

‘Of course.’ The man from Admin clapped Matt on the back and said brightly, ‘I’ll leave you in Abby’s capable hands.’ Then he strolled back the way he had come, taking a leisurely route and pausing to admire the colourful murals along the way.

‘I don’t know how much help I can be to you,’ Abby said to Matt, continuing on her way to the trauma room. ‘I would have thought you already have some experience of A and E. We all do a stint there during training, don’t we?’

‘That’s true and, to be honest, I actually specialised in it at one time. What I’m really looking for is your take on things. How you feel about your work, and which cases have an effect on you above all others.’ He paused for a moment or two, giving her a thoughtful look. ‘I noticed that you seemed sad when we walked in here a few minutes ago. Was it because of a difficult problem you had to solve?’

‘I don’t deal with cases or problems,’ she told him. ‘I treat sick children.’

She might have expected him to draw back at the snub, but he simply studied her more closely, a glimmer of compassion in his eyes. ‘And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? That’s what makes yours such a heart-rending job.’

She winced at his perception. Why did he have to show that he understood? She didn’t like the man, neither did she want to have anything to do with him. He was the enemy, a thorn in her side.

‘If you can understand that,’ she said, ‘then it beggars belief that you should write an article on the pros and cons of vaccination. I have to deal with the fallout from that when parents read your stuff and decide that vaccination isn’t for their children. Then I have to try to save the lives of the ones who come in here with meningitis and respiratory infections that overwhelm their immune systems.’

‘Did you read the article?’

‘Bits of it.’ She grimaced. ‘Someone had left the magazine open on the table in the doctors’ lounge, and I glanced at it in passing.’

He gave a crooked smile. ‘I’m not going to win this argument when I’m up against a biased opinion like yours, am I? Perhaps you should have read the article in full before you made up your mind that I’m the devil incarnate.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she said. ‘I tend not to think about you at all.’

That remark might have been a good payback for the putdown he had made on his website, but it didn’t have anything near the effect she’d wished for. He simply tilted back his head and laughed.

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