About the Authors

CAROLINE ANDERSON is a matriarch, writer, armchair gardener, unofficial tearoom researcher and eater of lovely cakes. Not necessarily in that order! What Caroline loves: her family. Her friends. Reading. Writing contemporary love stories. Hearing from readers. Walks by the sea with coffee/ice cream/cake thrown in! Torrential rain. Sunshine in spring/autumn. What Caroline hates: losing her pets. Fighting with her family. Cold weather. Hot weather. Computers. Clothes shopping. Caroline’s plans: keep smiling and writing!

ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to be living in the South of France. She is also lucky enough to write for the Mills & Boon Medical Romance line. A primary school teacher in a former life, she is now a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne, and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

Also by Caroline Anderson

One Night, One Unexpected Miracle

Yoxburgh Park Hospital miniseries

Risk of a Lifetime

Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

Their Meant-to-Be Baby

The Midwife’s Longed-For Baby

Bound by Their Babies

Their Own Little Miracle

A Single Dad to Heal Her Heart

From Heartache to Forever

Also by Alison Roberts

Their Newborn Baby Gift

Twins on Her Doorstep

Rescued Hearts miniseries

The Doctor’s Wife for Keeps

Twin Surprise for the Italian Doc

Rescue Docs miniseries

Resisting Her Rescue Doc

Pregnant with Her Best Friend’s Baby

Dr Right for the Single Mum

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

From Heartache to Forever & Melting the Trauma Doc’s Heart

Caroline Anderson and Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90194-3

FROM HEARTACHE TO FOREVER & MELTING THE TRAUMA DOC’S HEART

From Heartache to Forever © 2019 Caroline Anderson Melting the Trauma Doc’s Heart © 2019 Alison Roberts

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

From Heartache to Forever

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

Melting the Trauma Doc’s Heart

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

From Heartache to Forever

Caroline Anderson

Passion, pregnancy, heartbreak…

Can they find their happy-ever-after?

Fresh out of broken relationships, trauma specialist Ryan McKenna and nurse Beth Costello’s passion-fueled fling was a welcome escape. But the shock of an unexpected pregnancy and the heartache of losing the baby they never knew they wanted was too much to bear. Now, working together again in Yoxburgh, where they first made love, can they finally get to know each other…and discover they’re meant to be together?

CHAPTER ONE

‘AH, BETH, JUST the person. I’ve got a favour to ask you.’

Her heart sank. Again?

‘How did I know that was coming, right at the end of my shift?’

She turned towards James with a wry smile and then everything ground to a halt, because the man standing beside the ED’s clinical lead was painfully, gut-wrenchingly familiar.

His strangely piercing ice blue eyes locked on hers, his mouth opening as if to speak, but James was still talking, oblivious to the tension running between them.

‘Beth, this is Ryan McKenna, our new locum consultant. Ryan, this is—’

‘Hello, Beth.’

Her name was a gentle murmur, his eyes softening as he took a step forward and gathered her up against his chest in a hug so warm, so welcome that it brought tears to her eyes.

‘Oh, Ry—’

He let her go long before she was ready, stared down into her eyes and feathered a kiss on her cheek.

‘OK. So I’m guessing you two know each other already, or this is love at first sight,’ James said drily, and Ryan laughed a little off kilter, taking a step back and giving her some much-needed space to drag herself together.

‘Yeah, we know each other,’ Ryan said, his voice oddly gruff. ‘We—er—we worked together, before I went abroad. Best scrub nurse I’ve ever had the privilege of working with.’

There was a whole world left unsaid, but James just nodded, still unaware of the turmoil going on under his nose.

‘Well, it’s good to know you got on—we rely on teamwork. Beth, I was going to ask you if you could be a star and give Ryan the once-over of the department and then take him for a coffee? They really need me in Resus, and I’m sure you’d like to catch up?’

‘What, now?’ she asked, feeling a flicker of something that could have been panic.

‘If you can spare the time. I’d be really grateful and they do need me.’

She met Ryan’s eyes, one eyebrow raised a fraction. ‘Are you OK with this?’ he murmured.

As if James had left her with a choice…

‘It’s fine, Ry. I don’t have to be anywhere,’ she said quietly, surrendering to the inevitable, and she turned back to James. ‘Go. You’re right, they could really use you. Sam’s tearing his hair out and Livvy’s rushed off her feet. We’ll be fine.’

He nodded, his face relieved. ‘Thanks, Beth. You’re a star. And while you’re at it, if you could convince him to apply for the permanent post, you’ll have my undying gratitude.’

Her heart thudded, the flicker threatening to turn into a full-on panic attack.

‘I thought the application window was closed?’

‘It’s been extended. So—if you could twist his arm?’

He was smiling, but his meaning was clear, and they were desperate for another consultant, but simply seeing Ryan again had sent her emotions into freefall and her hard-won status quo felt suddenly threatened. A locum post was one thing, but she didn’t know if she could cope with him here on a permanent basis, not when she was finally putting her life and her heart back together after the last two agonising years.

Not that it, or she, would ever be the same again…

Anyway, it wasn’t relevant, because he was committed to Medicine For All, the aid organisation he’d been working with for the past two years, and she knew how strongly he felt about that. He’d walked away from Katie because she didn’t understand, so there was no way he’d be looking for a permanent job and he obviously hadn’t been clear enough with James.

‘Leave it with me,’ she said, which wasn’t a yes but it was the best she could do, because she was oddly torn between wanting to run away and wanting to talk to him, to find out how he was.

Because something had changed him, she could see that at a glance. He was thinner, his face slightly drawn, shadows lurking in the back of his eyes. The same shadows that lurked in hers after all that had happened between them? Or other shadows, from the things he’d seen in those two years? Both, probably.

‘Sure?’ James asked, maybe finally picking up on the tension running between them, and she nodded.

‘I’m sure. Go. Leave it to me.’

‘Thank you. I know you’ll do your best. I’ll see you on Monday, Ryan. I’m really pleased you’ve agreed to join us.’

‘So am I. I’ll look forward to working with you.’

They shook hands and she watched James go, then Ryan turned back to her with a wry smile that touched her heart.

‘Forget the guided tour. Is there somewhere quiet we can go and get a coffee?’

She felt a wave of relief and nodded. ‘Yes. There’s a café that opens onto the park. We can sit outside.’

The café was busy, but they found a little bistro table bathed in April sunshine and tucked out of the way so they could talk without being overheard, and he settled opposite her and met her eyes, his searching.

‘So, how are you?’

Her heart thumped. ‘Oh—you know.’ She tried to smile. ‘Getting there, bit by bit. You?’

That wry, sad smile again, flickering for an instant and then gone. ‘I’m OK.’

She wasn’t sure she believed him, but there was something else…

‘So, how come you’re here, in Yoxburgh? Is that deliberate?’ she asked, needing to know if he’d sought her out or just stumbled on her by accident, but he nodded slowly.

‘Yoxburgh? Yes, sort of. I needed a job, there was one here, and I know it’s a lovely place. But I didn’t know you were here, if that’s what you’re asking, not until I saw you.’

‘Would you have applied if you’d known?’

He shrugged. ‘Not without talking to you first to see if you were OK with it.’

‘Why? If you needed a job—’

‘There are plenty of jobs.’

‘But not here.’

‘No. Not here, and I wanted to be here, but now—well, that depends.’

Her heart hiccupped. ‘On?’

‘You, of course. If you’re working in the ED, we’ll probably be working together. I’m OK with that, we worked well together before, but us—you and me—that’s different. Much more complicated, and the last thing I want is to make things difficult for you, so I need to know if you’re going to be OK with me being underfoot all the time.’

Was she?

‘Just so long as you don’t expect to pick up where we left off. Well, not that, obviously, but—you know. Before…’

He frowned, his eyes raw. ‘I don’t expect anything, Beth. The way we left things, I’ve got no right to expect anything. For all I know you might be back with Rick.’

‘Rick?’ It startled a laugh out of her because after everything that had happened Rick was so far off her radar it was almost funny. ‘No way. He was a lying cheat, why would I be back with him, any more than you’d be back with Katie?’

He gave a startled laugh. ‘OK, I can see that, but—someone?’

‘No. It’s just me, and I’m happy that way. You?’

He laughed again. ‘Me? I haven’t had time to breathe, never mind get involved with anyone. Anyway, people get expectations and then it all gets messy.’

‘Not everyone’s like Katie.’

‘No. They’re not.’ He studied her, his eyes stroking tenderly over her face. She could almost feel their touch, but then he closed them and shook his head with a little laugh. ‘I can’t believe you’re in the ED. What brought that on? I thought Theatre was your life.’

‘You can talk. I thought surgery was your life.’

He shrugged. ‘People change. I was facing a lifetime of increasing specialisation, and I didn’t want to spend every day doing the same thing over and over again until I’d perfected it. I wanted a change, and MFA provided me with that, and over the course of my time with them I realised I like trauma work. I like the variety, the pace, but you…’

‘I wanted a change, too.’ Needed a change, because everywhere she’d looked there’d been reminders of what she’d lost, and she’d found working in Theatre with anyone but him just plain wrong. ‘So, when did you get back?’

‘Two weeks ago. I’ve been back a few times on leave, picked up a bit of locum work here and there to refill the coffers and keep my registration up to date, but this time it’s for good.’

For good?

She felt her eyes widen, and her heart thumped. ‘Really?’

His smile was sad. ‘Yes, really. I’ve seen enough horror, lost some good friends, seen way too many dead chil—’

She flinched, and he gave a quiet groan.

‘Sorry. I didn’t…’

‘It’s OK,’ she lied. ‘And I can only begin to imagine what it must have been like. So, was it after you lost your friends you decided to come back?’

He gave a wry laugh. ‘No. Oddly, that was when I decided to stay on longer, to carry on the work they were doing because it was so necessary, but there’ll always be others waiting to take my place and it was time to come home because I’m just as needed here in many ways. My grandparents are frail and my mother’s shouldering the whole burden on her own, and it just seemed like it was time. Time to move on with my life, to get back to the day job, as it were. Back to the future.’

With her?

He’d said it was time to move on with his life, but he was the one who didn’t do relationships. Not after Katie had tried to get pregnant to stop him going away.

But what if he’d changed now, got MFA out of his system and was ready to settle down? It sounded like it, and maybe he wanted to try again with her? Maybe a bit more seriously this time—although it could hardly have been more serious than the way it had turned out. But if he did?

She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, not yet. She was still working through life day by day, hour by hour, step by step. She stared down into her coffee, stirring the froth mindlessly.

‘So that’s me,’ he murmured. ‘How about you? Are you happy here, in Yoxburgh?’

Happy? She could hardly remember what that felt like.

‘As happy as I can be anywhere,’ she said honestly. ‘It’s a lovely place, and that weekend we spent here—it was really special, the walks, the feel of the sea air—we said then what an amazing place it would be to live, and then a job came up here and I thought, why not? I was sick of working in an inner city, the noise and the dirt and the chaos, and I wanted to get away from all the reminders. I just needed peace.’

Peace to heal, to reconcile herself, to learn to live again, and where better than here, where it all began—

She sucked in a breath and looked up again. ‘So how come you applied for the locum job?’

He shrugged. ‘Same reason, I guess. I loved it here, the peace, the tranquillity of the coast and the countryside, and I needed that, after all I’ve seen. And there were the memories. I know we were only here for a weekend, but it was hugely significant.’

He looked away, his brow creased in a thoughtful frown, then he looked back and met her eyes. ‘If I’d known you were pregnant, Beth, I wouldn’t have gone away—not then, at least. I would have found a way out of it, delayed it or something. Not that it would have changed anything, but at least I could have been there for you. And I did try when I knew, but you didn’t seem to want me there, and I couldn’t really do anything anyway, nothing constructive, so I left and I tried to airbrush you out of my life, out of my thoughts, but I couldn’t. I realised that, the moment I got back when all I could think about was seeing you again, making sure you were all right.’

He’d tried to airbrush her out of his thoughts? And failed? Well, that made two of them. Even so…

‘Why didn’t you act on it? You’ve been back two weeks and you haven’t contacted me.’

‘You’ve changed your phone number.’

She felt a twinge of guilt. ‘I know. I’m sorry, I suppose I should have told you. But you could have found me if you’d really wanted to. You know enough people.’

He nodded. ‘You’re right, and I was going to as soon as I knew what I was doing, where I was going to be, but whatever, I’ve found you now, I’m here, I’m back for good, and at least I know you’re all right. Well, as all right as you can be, I guess.’

Their eyes locked, his heavy with understanding, and she felt her heart quiver.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said, the admission wrung from her without her consent, and he smiled sadly.

‘I’ve missed you, too. I didn’t realise how much, until I saw you again. All that airbrushing just didn’t work.’

Her eyes welled, and she blinked the tears away.

‘Ry, I’m not the person I was. I’ve changed.’

‘I’m sure you have. So have I. Don’t worry, I don’t expect anything, Beth, but it is good to see you again and I’m so sorry I let you down. I wish I could undo it.’

She nodded, looking away from those all-seeing eyes, turning her attention back to the froth on her coffee. She poked the last bit of froth with the spoon, then looked up again.

‘So if you really are done with MFA, are you going for the permanent post? James was groaning the other day about the calibre of the applicants so they’ve obviously had to extend the closing date, and it sounds like he wants you to apply.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘That depends.’

‘On?’

‘You, again, of course.’ He shrugged again. ‘I don’t want to do something that you don’t want, Beth. If you don’t want me here, I won’t apply, especially since we’ll be working together. I know I’ve accepted the locum job, but if that’s an issue, too, I can always pull out. I haven’t signed anything yet.’

She frowned at him. ‘But you’ve said you’ll do it! You’d never go back on your word.’

‘I would if it would hurt you. The last thing I want is to hurt you again.’

She shook her head. ‘You didn’t hurt me, not like Rick hurt me. You didn’t lie and cheat and sleep with my best friend and then pretend it was over when it wasn’t. Your only failing was your commitment to Medicine For All, but I got that. I understood, and I admired you for it.’

‘Katie didn’t.’

‘I know, but I’m not Katie, and you’re not Rick, and you’ve never hurt me. And you were there for me when it mattered, and you stayed until it was over. That meant so much.’

‘I could have stayed longer. Should have stayed longer.’

‘No. I didn’t want you to, Ryan. You needed to go back, to fulfil your commitments, and I needed to be on my own. You were right, you couldn’t do anything constructive to help me, and there were people in other parts of the world who really did need you. Don’t feel guilty.’

‘But I do.’

‘Well, don’t. I don’t need your guilt, I’ve got enough burdens. You did the right thing.’

She straightened up and smiled at him, pushing back the shadows. ‘Why don’t I give you that guided tour James was talking about, and introduce you to some of the others? And then you can decide if you want to apply.’

‘You don’t mind? I might get it. You have to be sure.’

She shrugged. ‘Ryan, we’re in desperate need of another consultant and I can’t stand in the way of that, but I can’t promise you a future with me, not in any way, so if you’re thinking of applying because of that—’

‘I’m not. I’ve told you, I don’t expect anything from you.’

‘Good. Let’s go and do this, then.’

The department was much as expected—modern, well equipped, but ridiculously busy, and he could see why he was needed.

And they had a permanent post going. It would be a great job, a perfect place to settle down—with Beth?

No. She’d warned him off, said she’d changed, and so had he, and yet he’d still felt his heart slam against his chest at the sight of her, felt a surge of something utterly unexpected when he’d pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

Love?

Of course not. He didn’t do love, not any more, and anyway, it wouldn’t work. She wanted other things from life, things he didn’t want, things that didn’t include him, but they could still be friends. They could work on that, and it was still a great hospital in a beautiful part of England. What more could a man want? And anyway, it was only a temporary post at the moment. It wasn’t like he was committed. If they couldn’t work together, he could always leave it at that and move on.

‘Seen enough?’

He met her soft grey-green eyes, so bad at hiding her feelings, and he could tell she wanted to get away.

‘Yes. Thank you, Beth. I need to get on, anyway, I’ve got to find somewhere to live by Monday. Any idea who to ask?’

‘Hang on, Livvy Henderson might know.’ She stuck her head back into Resus. ‘Livvy, do you know if anyone’s moved into the house you were renting? Ryan’s looking for somewhere.’

‘Ah, no, Ben’s got a new tenant.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘Sorry I can’t help. I hope you find something, Ryan.’

‘I’m sure I will. Never mind. Thanks.’ He turned back to Beth. ‘So—any other ideas?’

‘Baldwins? They’ve got a few properties near me advertised to let. Might be worth asking them. They’ve got an office on the High Street. It depends what you want.’

He laughed, thinking of some of the places he’d slept in over the past two years, and shook his head. ‘I’m not fussy. Just so long as it has a garden. I need to be able to get outside. And somewhere to park would be handy.’

‘Go and see them. I’m sure they’ll have something.’

He nodded. ‘I will. Thank you. I was thinking I’d check into a hotel and maybe look at some places tomorrow.’

Something flickered in her eyes and then was gone, as if she’d changed her mind. ‘Good idea,’ she said, but nothing more, and he wondered what she’d been going to say. Whatever, she’d thought better of it, and he realised he had some serious work to do to rebuild their friendship.

Baby steps, he thought, and then felt a stab of pain.

‘Right. Well, I’ll see you on Monday.’

The eyes flickered again, and he could see the moment she changed her mind. ‘Give me a call, tell me how you get on.’

‘I don’t have your number, remember.’ And nobody changed their number unless they wanted to hide, so from whom? Rick? Him? Or from the others, the well-meaning friends who hadn’t quite known what to say to her? He could understand that. He’d blocked quite a few numbers.

He pulled out his phone and found her entry. ‘OK, give it to me?’ Then he rang her, and heard her phone buzz in her pocket.

‘OK. I’ll let you know how I get on with—Baldwins?’

‘Yup. Good luck.’

Was it those words, or was it just that the fates had finished playing Russian roulette with him?

Whatever, the agent showed him a whole bunch of stuff, none of which appealed, and then said, very carefully, ‘There is something else. It was for sale but it didn’t shift, so the owner got tenants in and they’ve done a runner and left it in a state, but he’s disabled and can’t afford to pay someone to sort it out, so if you didn’t mind rolling up your sleeves I’m sure I could negotiate a discount. It’s a great place, or it could be. It’s a three-bed bungalow on Ferry Lane, overlooking the marshes and the harbour, and you can see the boats on the river in the distance.’

The river? He could feel his pulse pick up. ‘Does it have a drive?’

‘Oh, yes, and a double garage and a big garden. They had a dog so the house smells a bit, but with a good clean and a tidy-up…’

‘Can I see it?’ he asked, impatient now, because it sounded perfect, doggy or not, and he’d grown up with dogs.

The agent glanced at his watch. ‘I can’t take you today, I’m on my own here, and I’m out of the office until eleven tomorrow, but I can give you the key. I take it you’re trustworthy?’

Ryan laughed. ‘I think so. After all, what can I do to it that the tenants haven’t? Apart from clean it?’

‘Good point. Here. And take my card and give me a call.’

‘I will. Thanks.’

He hefted the key in his hand, slid it into his pocket and headed back to the car, cruising slowly along the clifftop before turning onto Ferry Lane and checking out the numbers. And there it was, a tired-looking bungalow set back at the top of a long concrete drive with weeds growing in the cracks.

Uninspiring, to say the least, and it didn’t get better as he went up the drive, but as he got out of the car he caught sight of the view and felt peace steal over him.

He slid the key into the lock, went through the front door and was confronted by multi-coloured chaos.

The agent was right, it did smell of dog, the kitchen and bathroom were filthy, and the garden was a jungle, but every time he looked out of a window and saw the river in the distance his heart beat a little faster.

It might be awful now, but with a good scrub, the carpets cleaned and the grass cut, it would be transformed. Oh, and about a vat and a half of white paint to cover the lurid walls and calm it all down. All he had to do was roll up his sleeves and get stuck in.

He pulled out his phone and rang the agent.

‘I’ll take it,’ he said, and the man laughed.

‘I thought you might. Your eyes lit up when I mentioned the river.’

‘Yup.’ He laughed. ‘So, where do we go from here? It’s just that I am in quite a hurry, I start work on Monday. Is there any danger we can sort it by then?’

‘Yes, we can do it today. We’re open until seven tonight. If you come in at six, that’ll give me time to get it all sorted.’

So he rang Beth, although he hadn’t meant to, and told her about it.

‘Where is it?’

‘Just up Ferry Lane on the left. It’s number eleven.’

‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes—why?’

‘Can I come? I’m only round the corner and I have to see this.’

He laughed. ‘Sure. You’ll be shocked, it’s pretty dire, but I’ll get my body weight in cleaning materials and paint and it’ll be fine.’

‘It can’t be that bad.’

He just laughed again, and went outside to wait for her.

‘Oh, my word…’

‘Yeah. Great, isn’t it? You’ve got to love the shocking pink. But look.’

He wrapped her shoulders in his warm, firm hands and turned her gently towards the window, and she felt her breath catch. ‘Oh—you can see the river! It’s where we walked that day—’

The day he’d lifted her off the stile and into his arms and kissed her, and she’d fallen a little bit in love with him. The day it had all begun…

‘I know,’ he murmured, his voice a little gruff. ‘It’s beautiful down there, and the thought of having it on my doorstep, being able to look at it all the time, is just amazing.’ He dropped his hands and stepped away from her, but she could still feel the echo of his fingers, the warmth that had radiated off his body.

‘Come and see the rest. He said it’s got three bedrooms but I only got as far as the first one and gave up.’

She could see why. The place was dirty and untidy, as if the tenants had picked up their things and walked away without a backward glance, and there was a pervading odour of dog. There was a lot to do before it was a home.

They walked through it, examining all the rooms, finding the third bedroom at the opposite end to the other two, tucked away beyond the kitchen with a patio door to the garden. It even had an en suite shower room.

‘So will you make this your bedroom?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ll use it as a study because of the door to the garden. Do you know what, the house is actually in pretty good condition under all the dirt. I don’t think it’ll take a lot to turn it around.’

She eyed the grubby carpets, the faded curtains, the filthy bathroom. ‘If you say so.’

‘It’s only dirt. I’ll get on it in the morning. I’ve got to go down to the office now to sign something, then I need to eat and find a bed for the night. Any suggestions?’

Why? Why did she say it? She had no idea, but without her consent her mouth opened.

‘I’ve got a spare room, and a casserole in the slow cooker that’s enough for three meals so that should do us, so we can eat after you’ve done the paperwork and then come back here and make a start if you like? I’m on early tomorrow but I can help you now, and again after my shift. Bear in mind it’s Friday tomorrow, so you’ve only got three days before you start work and I guess you’ve got other stuff to do first. Like find some furniture, for starters.’

He laughed. ‘Furniture would be handy.’ His smile faded as he searched her eyes, his own unreadable. ‘Beth, are you sure? That’s a lot to ask.’

Sure? She wasn’t in the slightest bit sure, but it seemed the sensible thing to do, the most practical, and she was nothing if not practical.

‘I’m sure,’ she lied. ‘And anyway, you didn’t ask, I offered.’

She just hoped it wasn’t a huge mistake.

It was just as well she’d agreed to help, because the house was worse than he’d thought.

After they’d eaten he changed into jeans, rolled up his sleeves and they went straight back to tackle the mess, armed with the contents of her cleaning cupboard. She hit the kitchen while he tore up the bedroom carpets, and by the time he’d done that it looked a whole lot better. Then he studied the sitting room carpet.

Was it salvageable? Doubtful, but with a clean…

He turned back the corner to see what was underneath, and blinked. Seriously? An original wood block floor? He pulled back more, then more, and started to laugh because it was so unexpected and wonderful.

‘Hey, come and see this,’ he called, and Beth went into the sitting room, clad in shocking pink rubber gloves that matched the awful walls, a streak of dirt on her cheek, and his heart crashed against his ribs.

How could she look so sexy?

‘Wow! That’s amazing. It’s gorgeous!’

It wasn’t alone. He dragged his eyes off her, looking way more appealing than she had any right to look with dirt on her face and her hair all sweaty, and studied the floor. ‘Well, I don’t know about gorgeous, but it knocks spots off the carpet and it’ll save me money. I wonder if the hall’s the same?’

It was, so was the dining room, and he was stunned.

‘It’s incredible. I love it. I think you’re right, a bit of polish and it will be gorgeous. Right, let’s go. It’s late, you’re working tomorrow and I could kill for a cup of tea.’

‘Me, too. It might wash the dust out of my throat.’

He chuckled, and her eyes softened with her smile. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her, burying his face in her hair and breathing in dust and bleach and something else, something familiar that made his heart ache.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much for all you’ve done. You’ve been amazing and I wouldn’t have got nearly as far without you.’

She eased away, leaving him feeling a little awkward and a bit bereft. ‘Yeah, you would, because you wouldn’t have stopped. Right, time to go.’

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea would be lovely, thank you. Want a hand?’

‘No, you’re fine. Go and relax, I won’t be long.’

Relax? He was too wired for that, and stiffening up nicely after all the heaving and bending. He was going to hurt in the morning. Ah, well. At least they’d made a start.

He flexed his shoulders and strolled over to the shelves in the corner of her sitting room beside the fireplace, where a silver trinket box had caught his eye. It was a heart, he discovered, smooth and rounded, incredibly simple but somehow beautiful, and crying out to be touched.

He picked it up, and it settled neatly into the palm of his hand as if it belonged there, the metal cool against his palm, the surface so smooth it felt like silk. There was something written on it, he realised, and he traced it with his fingertip, his heart starting to pound as he read the tiny inscription.

A date. A date he recognised, a date he could never forget because it was carved on his heart, too.

He heard her footsteps behind him.

‘Tea,’ she said, her voice sounding far away, the clink of the mugs as she put them down oddly loud in the silence. He turned slowly towards her, the heart still nestled in the palm of his hand.

‘What’s this?’ he asked gruffly, knowing the answer, and her smile nearly broke his heart.

‘Her ashes.’

Her face blurred, and he bent his head and lifted the tiny urn to his lips, his eyes squeezed tightly shut to trap the tears inside.

‘You kept them,’ he said, when he could speak.

‘Of course. I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t there by the time I picked them up, and I didn’t want to stay where we were because of all the reminders and I knew if they were there I’d feel tied, so I had to keep her with me until we could decide together what to do.’

He looked up, blinking so he could see her face, and her smile cracked.

‘Oh, Beth…’

He reached out his free arm and pulled her against his side, and she laid her hand over the delicate little urn in his hand, her fingers curling round over his as she rested her head on his shoulder.

‘Grace didn’t suffer, Ry. At least we know that.’

He nodded, and she lifted the little heart gently out of his hand, kissed it and put it back on the shelf, next to a pretty cardboard box. She touched it fleetingly.

‘That’s her memory box,’ she said softly. ‘The midwives gave it to me in the hospital. Would you like to see it?’

He shook his head, mentally backing away from it, unable to face it. ‘No. Not tonight. I’m too tired, Beth. I think I might head up to bed. I’ve got another long day tomorrow and you’re working.’

Her smile was understanding, as if she’d seen straight through him.

‘When you’re ready,’ she said gently, but he’d spent two long years running away from it and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for what he knew must be in that memory box.

Time to stop running? Maybe, but not now. Not tonight.

Not yet…

CHAPTER TWO

‘ARE YOU OK?’

Ryan propped himself against the doorframe of his newly acquired home and gave her a slightly crooked smile.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure? Because you didn’t look it last night.’

He hadn’t felt it, and between the memories that the little heart had dragged up out of their hiding place and the knowledge that Beth was just on the other side of the wall, he’d hardly slept at all. And then seeing this place in daylight, realising the enormity of the task, had made him wonder what on earth he was doing.

So, yeah, one way and another, he was very far from fine.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shrugged away from the doorframe, stepping back into the hall to let her in. ‘I was tired. And, yes, OK, I was—uh—I was a bit emotional. It was just holding it, you know? Knowing Grace was in there.’

She nodded. ‘I know.’ Her smile faltered, and she sucked in a breath and looked around, then blinked. ‘Oh—wow! What happened to the pink?’

He laughed. ‘Three coats of white paint happened to it.’

‘Three? Already? What are you, Superman?’

‘It’s been a nice breezy day and I’ve had all the windows open so the paint’s dried quickly and it really doesn’t take that long. I’ve done the sitting room, as well. Have a look.’

He pushed the door open and followed her in, and she gasped.

‘Oh! It looks so much bigger. And brighter.’

He chuckled. ‘That wouldn’t be hard. Cup of tea?’

‘That would be lovely. I haven’t had a lot to drink today. I’ve brought scruffy clothes.’

He frowned at her. ‘You’ve been working all day.’

‘So? It was the sensible Friday shift. The late shift won’t have it so easy.’

He headed for the kitchen. ‘Tea or coffee? I bought a kettle and some mugs and stuff.’

‘Tea, please.’

He felt her watching him dunking tea bags, pouring milk, his hands covered in paint. There was some in his hair, too, he’d noticed. He was going to have to do some serious scrubbing to get it off by Monday.

‘So how was work?’ he asked, handing her the mug. ‘Anything interesting?’

‘Not really, a few sporting and gardening injuries, the odd fall, but nothing nasty, just busy.’

He thought of his average day with MFA and laughed. ‘I’ll take that.’

‘I guessed you would. Bit of a change from what you’ve been doing.’

‘Yeah.’ He put away the memories and conjured up a smile. ‘Here—let’s go in the garden. I found a bench. It’s a bit wobbly, but it should be OK if we sit down carefully.’

He scooped up a packet of biscuits and she followed him through the dining room and the tired conservatory into the garden.

She eyed the bench dubiously as it creaked under his weight. ‘I think I’ll sit here,’ she said, taking a biscuit and perching on the edge of the steps that led up to the garden from the patio. Well, patio was a bit of a stretch. Some uneven crazy paving, but it was somewhere to put a table and chairs.

‘It’s a pretty garden.’

He snorted, but she stuck to her guns. ‘It is! Look at the perennials in the border.’

‘I see them. I also see the weeds, and the foot-high grass, and the fence that’s making a bid for freedom. I don’t think this place has had any maintenance in living memory but hey, it’ll give me something to do in my time off. That’ll be a bit of a luxury.’

‘Time off?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, you don’t get a lot of that in the field. You only do three months at a time, but it’s pretty full on.’ He fell silent, his thoughts obviously miles away, and she wondered what he was seeing. Probably just as well not to know.

‘Here, have another biscuit before I eat them all.’

He got up to hand her the packet, and as he pushed himself up the bench creaked again and slid over sideways into a heap.

She laughed. She tried not to, but his face was a picture and she dissolved into giggles.

‘How is that funny?’ he asked, but his lips were twitching and seconds later he was sitting beside her on the steps, clutching his stomach and laughing just as helplessly as her.

‘Maybe you need to invest in some new garden furniture,’ she suggested when she could speak again, and he nodded.

‘Maybe. Or I can sit here and study the windows. They really need replacing.’

‘Buy a new bench. It’s cheaper than the windows and you don’t own the house.’

‘No, I don’t. Not yet.’

Yet? She turned and met his eyes.

‘Yet?’

‘It’s possibly for sale.’

‘But—you’re a locum! Why would you buy it?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t, unless I was going to be living here long term.’ He paused, looked away, then looked back, his eyes searching hers. ‘I think I want to apply for the permanent job.’

She wasn’t expecting that, not so soon, not before he’d even started work there, but realistically what was there to know? He’d met James and a few of the others, he knew her, he knew he loved the town—what more was there?

Nothing—except her, and her feelings, and if he’d asked her what they were she’d be hard pushed to tell him, because after seeing him with Grace’s heart last night they were even more confused. She looked away.

‘I’d give it a few days before you decide. You might hate it.’

‘Unlikely, and I can always withdraw my application if I want to.’

‘Withdraw it?’ She laughed. ‘You seriously think James wouldn’t talk you out of doing that?’

‘I know he wouldn’t. Not if I don’t want to be talked out of it. If you don’t want me here, Beth, I’ll go, no matter how much James wants me to stay.’

She searched his eyes, read the sincerity in them, the concern for her welfare. And then she thought of the little silver heart that had fitted so perfectly in the palm of his hand…

She wanted him to stay.

It was the last thing she’d expected to feel and she had no idea where it had come from, but it hit like a lightning bolt, and she sucked in a breath and got to her feet.

‘Let’s just see,’ she said, tipping out the dregs of her tea onto the weedy grass behind her. ‘So—what’s next?’

‘My bedroom. I’m picking up my clothes and other stuff from my mother’s on Sunday, and I can borrow her airbed.’

‘Airbed?’ She turned and stared at him. ‘Ry, there’s no hurry. You can stay with me as long as you want.’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve put you out quite enough, Beth. I’ll stay tonight and tomorrow, but then I’ll be here.’

‘But—you’ve got no furniture. It’s a bit basic,’ she murmured, but he just laughed.

‘Basic? Having a roof is a luxury in some of the places I’ve been. Trust me, this is a palace. I’ve got a new bed and sofa coming on Monday evening. I’ll be fine.’

‘If you say so.’ She shrugged, not quite believing him, and headed back into the house, wondering if she should feel hurt that he didn’t want to stay, and telling herself not to be stupid. He’d always been independent and she wasn’t going to change him. ‘How about I get stuck in and clean the rest while you do the bedroom, then?’

They stopped at eight because the light was failing and they were both tired, but his bedroom was painted and the kitchen, cloakroom and both bathrooms were gleaming and she’d started on the windows.

He waited till she’d finished the pane she was working on, then took the cloth out of her hand. ‘Come on, it’s late, and you’re working tomorrow. Why don’t we pick up a takeaway?’

She gave him a tired smile. ‘That sounds great. How does the bedroom look?’

‘Bigger, and it’s got that amazing view.’

‘Just as well, as you don’t have any curtains. Right, come on, we’ve got another long day tomorrow.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I feel like I’m taking advantage of your good nature.’

‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t happy.’

He wasn’t sure about that. Beth had a heart of gold, a heart that he’d broken, even if only indirectly, by not making sure she couldn’t get pregnant.

‘You’re a star,’ he said, echoing James, and she shook her head.

‘No, Ryan, I’m a friend,’ she said simply, and her words brought a lump to his throat because while it was true, in a strange way she meant so much more than that to him and he didn’t have the words to say so.

He didn’t even think there was a word for what they were to each other, he just knew she was an indelible part of his life and always would be.

By the end of Saturday the place was transformed.

Once the paint was dry he’d pulled up the carpet in the sitting room, dining room and hall, and together they mopped and polished the wood block floor and stood back to admire it.

‘Wow. You were right, Beth, it is gorgeous. Stunning.’

‘I thought it would be. How about pots and pans and things, if you insist on moving in so quickly? And bedroom curtains, come to that.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Mum’s got some I can borrow. I don’t need much for the kitchen, and there’s a box in the pantry. There might be something in there worth salvaging.’

They went and had a look, and the answer was a maybe.

‘I’ll take the box home, sort through it and put anything worth having through my dishwasher and bring it back tomorrow, if you give me a key,’ she said, so he loaded it into her car, locked the house and went back to hers for the third and final night.

Not that he’d have a real bed until Monday, but as he’d said, a roof was more than he’d had at times, and he’d be fine—and maybe better than fine. He might even sleep if she wasn’t lying there in the next room, just on the other side of the wall…

‘Morning!’

Beth turned and met his eyes with a smile, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice.

‘Morning. All ready for your first shift?’

‘Yes, absolutely. It’ll make a refreshing change from painting. That’s just mind-numbing.’

She felt her mouth twitch and bit her lip. ‘Be careful what you wish for. Did you get on OK yesterday? And did you sleep last night?’

He laughed softly and propped himself up against the central desk. ‘Like a log, but I’m looking forward to my new bed. I’m all done with sleeping bags.’

‘You could have stayed at mine again,’ she reminded him.

‘I know, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome and I know you well enough to realise you wouldn’t tell me if I had. Thanks for the card and the house plant. The place looks almost civilised in a rather empty way.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she murmured. ‘I thought it needed cheering up a bit. I put the kitchen stuff in the pantry, too. It might come in handy. Here—your spare key. And talking of keys, has anyone given you a locker or anything?’

He slid the key into his pocket. ‘No, and I could do with some scrubs, if you could point me in the right direction?’

She nodded, and spent the next ten minutes sorting him out. ‘Right, is that everything you need?’

‘Pretty much. Thank you. I’d better go and find James.’

‘He’s in Resus.’

He nodded, and she went back to work and left him to find his feet, but it wasn’t long before they were in Resus together, working on a patient who’d been brought in after being knocked off his motorbike by a driver who hadn’t seen him.

His left leg had an open fracture and the paramedics has splinted it, but it didn’t look good and he was clearly in a lot of pain and his blood pressure was low.

‘Right, someone cut his clothes off so we can have a good look please,’ Ryan said swiftly. ‘Can I have the FAST scanner, and a gram of TXA in an infusion, and I want X-rays of the skull and that leg. Leave the collar and helmet on for now. Hi, I’m Ryan, and I’m a doctor. Can you tell me what happened, Jim?’

While he spoke to Jim and the radiographer took the X-rays, Beth set up the tranexamic acid infusion to slow the bleeding while Ryan’s gentle fingers checked the man’s ribs, abdomen and pelvis.

His leg was tinged blue below the fracture, and Beth checked the pulses in his foot.

‘No pedal pulse,’ she told Ryan, and he nodded.

‘OK. Jim, there’s a problem with the blood supply to your foot, so I’m going to have to pull your leg straight to sort that out. I’m sorry, it’s going to hurt for a moment but it should feel better afterwards. OK, are you ready, Beth? On three.’

He pulled it straight, checked the pulse and then left her to deal with splinting it while he went back to the abdomen, a frown on his face as he ran the ultrasound wand below the man’s ribs.

‘There’s a shadow. I think he might have an encapsulated bleed.’

‘Spleen?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Left kidney, maybe. There’s a lot of bruising on this side, so I suspect a blunt force injury. Give him another gram of TXA as a bolus and let’s get an X-ray of these ribs, and can we catheterise him, please, and check the urine for blood?’

She was already on it, and it proved his diagnosis right. The blood was obvious, and their patient was starting to deteriorate, so he was whisked away to Interventional Radiology for embolisation of the bleeding vessels before the orthopaedic surgeon could deal with his leg fracture.

They watched him go, and Ryan shook his head, a slightly bemused expression on his face as he stripped off his gloves and apron and headed for the sink.

‘It feels odd not to finish the job. I would have had to deal with both of those injuries in the field, but at least we got the pulse back to his foot and he hasn’t got a skull fracture, so it’s all good.’

‘You almost sound as if you wanted to do it all yourself,’ she said, but he laughed and shook his head.

‘No way. I’m happy to hand him over. I’ve had enough of juggling too many balls. They get dropped, and anyway, it’s nice to have time for coffee occasionally. And that’ll teach me to say the c word,’ he said, and she looked up and saw the next patient already being wheeled in.

It set the tone of the day, one case piling on top of another, but he worked fast and thoroughly, and it was a joy to her to be working alongside him again. It gave her a chance to study him, to remember all the little things she’d forgotten, like the way he frowned when he was concentrating, the way his brow cleared the second it was all under control, the quirk of a brow, the brief nod when he was happy with something.

‘Right, go for lunch, both of you,’ James said, and she realised it was after two. She’d been working alongside him since before eight, and they hadn’t stopped for breath.

‘Sandwich and a coffee?’ she suggested, and he nodded.

‘That would be great. I’m starving. Breakfast was a long, long time ago.’

But yet again it wasn’t to be. Another patient came through the doors, one of three from a nasty RTC, but Jenny, her line manager, came in and relieved her, so she went to the café and picked up lunch for both of them and he ate his in a snatched quiet moment a while later, washed down by the now tepid coffee she’d brought back for him.

‘I can see why I was needed,’ he said with a wry laugh.

‘Oh, you’re certainly needed. Still think it’s better than painting your house?’

His chuckle was dry and a little rueful. ‘It’s certainly more mentally challenging.’

‘Oh, well, you’ve only got another three hours to go. What time’s your furniture being delivered?’

‘I said not before six, and I can’t see me getting away before then so hopefully it’ll be eight or something. Whatever. They said they’d let me know. Right, I’d better go back and reassess my patient. I’ll see you later.’

Not much later, as it turned out.

He was in Resus with another emergency, gloved up and trying to assess a nasty scalp wound with an arterial bleed when his phone jiggled in his pocket.

‘Could someone get my phone, please?’ he asked, and one of the nurses delved in his scrub top pocket and held it up to him.

Damn. He stared at it and groaned. ‘Can someone find Beth, please, if she’s still here? I need to ask her a favour.’

‘I think she is,’ Jenny said. ‘Although she shouldn’t be.’

‘No, I know that, but I saw her walk past ten minutes ago so she might still be around.’

The nurse who’d delved in his pocket came back with Beth a moment later, and she tipped her head on one side.

‘Problem?’

‘Just a bit. I need another favour. I’ve had a message from the delivery team. They’ve said they’ll be there at five and there’s no way I can leave before six and if it goes on like this I won’t get away then. Is there any way you could let them in?’

‘Sure. I should have gone off an hour ago anyway.’

‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘I keep asking you favours—’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She held out her hand. ‘Key?’

Damn. It was still where he’d put it a few hours ago.

‘Right trouser pocket.’

Their eyes locked, and she looked hastily away and squirmed her hand under his plastic apron and into his pocket, groping for the keys while he tried really, really hard to keep his mind in check.

Not to mention his body—

‘These them?’

‘No. The loose one, the one you gave me back,’ he said, and gritted his teeth again while she went back in and rummaged again, then returned the others.

‘Do you want me to check everything’s OK?’

‘No. Just let them in, sign for it as unchecked, that’s all. Well, unless it’s obviously trashed in transit.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Thank you, Beth. I owe you, big-time.’

‘You do. Don’t worry, I’m keeping a tab.’

He grunted, and she gave him a cheeky grin and left him to the spurting artery and his mounting guilt.

She’d spent days helping him, and now she was heading back to his house, waiting in for the furniture. And he was clock-watching, dividing his guilt between his new job and his old friend.

If that was what you could call her, the woman you’d had a brief affair with, who’d ended up giving birth to a baby whose heart was so compromised she’d been doomed from the moment of conception.

There had to be a better word than ‘friend.’ It was what she’d called herself when he’d thanked her for all her help, but she was so much more than that, their relationship so complicated, and he knew they’d be bound together for ever by the heartbreaking loss of their tiny daughter.

His chest squeezed, and he focused his attention on his patient and put Beth, their baby and his guilt out of his mind.

It was after eight before she heard the scrunch of tyres, and she gave the bedding a last swipe with her hand to straighten it, then opened the door.

‘Beth, I can’t believe you’re still here!’ he said instantly, his face hugely apologetic. ‘I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be gone ages ago. Have they not come yet?’

‘Yes, of course they have, they came at five. I’ve just been pottering and waiting for you. Jenny rang me so I knew you’d be late.’

‘I didn’t. Not this late, anyway, and there was no way I could leave.’

‘No, I gather you had another really nasty RTC with multiple casualties. Nice, gentle introduction on your first day.’

He snorted softly. ‘Tell me about it. At least I was working with you, which made it significantly easier. So I assume everything was OK with the furniture?’

‘Fine—lovely. Come and have a look.’

She opened the bedroom door, and he stopped in his tracks.

‘They built the bed?’

‘No, I did, because I didn’t think you’d want to do it after such a hectic shift.’

He stared at her. ‘You did it? Wow. I didn’t for a moment expect you to do that, Beth. Thank you.’

‘It was easy,’ she said, lying slightly because another pair of hands would have been hugely useful. ‘Eight bolts and a few screws.’ She waggled an Allen key at him. ‘They even provided the technology.’

He gave a soft laugh, and hugged her.

‘Thank you so much. I really wasn’t expecting—’

She put her hand over his mouth, cutting him off. ‘Hush. You’ve spent your life looking after people. I thought it was time someone looked after you a bit.’

He reached up and caught her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm before threading his fingers through hers.

‘Thank you.’

His eyes were filled with a host of conflicting emotions, and she guessed he was just as confused as she was. And it really didn’t help that there was a massive bed right beside them…

She retrieved her hand gently and stepped out of reach, ignoring the tingling in her palm. ‘I hope I used the right bedding. It was new, but it was all I could find that would fit.’

‘No, that’s great, it’s all there is,’ he said, his voice unexpectedly gruff. ‘Did the sofa come?’

‘Yes, they unpacked it and the coffee table and took all the packaging away. It looks really good. Go and see.’

She followed him into the sitting room with a silent sigh of relief, and he sat down on the sofa, then swung his legs up and groaned contentedly. ‘Wow. An actual sofa, long enough to lie on—and it’s comfy. That’s such a luxury.’ He looked around and laughed softly. ‘It looks almost homely, in a rather bare sort of way. And the floor’s beautiful.’

He got to his feet, staring down into her eyes searchingly. ‘Look, I could do with a shower, but I’m hungry, and if you haven’t eaten yet, how about going out for something? Nothing fancy, just a pub—or we can go posh, if you like. Up to you.’

Her stomach rumbled, and she gave him a wry smile. ‘Food’s probably a good idea. I haven’t even given it a thought but there’s not a lot in my fridge. I was going shopping after work but I got slightly side-tracked.’

‘Then I’m definitely buying you dinner,’ he said firmly, the guilt back in his eyes. ‘Go home, get changed while I shower, and I’ll pick you up in half an hour. And work out where you want to go.’

She nodded, then on impulse went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. The brush of stubble against her lips sent a shockwave through her body, and she dropped back onto her heels and headed for the door, more confused than ever.

‘See you in half an hour, then,’ she said lightly, and walked out, letting out a quiet rush of breath.

Clearly her body hadn’t forgotten him, then…

‘Where to?’

‘I thought the Harbour Inn?’

Really? He glanced at her, then away again quickly before she could read his expression. Of all the places to choose…

‘If you like. It’s nice and close.’

He headed down towards the little yacht harbour, to the pub where they’d had lunch nearly two and a half years ago, just before he’d kissed her for the first time and set the ball rolling.

He’d split up with Katie when he’d realised she was trying to get pregnant to stop him joining MFA, and Beth had been right there at the time, working alongside him in Theatre, intriguing him, tempting him—but when after a few weeks he’d asked her out she’d said no, holding him at arm’s length because she didn’t want a relationship.

Well, neither did he, not so soon after Katie, and maybe not for years, but that didn’t make him a monk, and after a week when everyone in the Midlands seemed hell-bent on injuring themselves and they’d been trapped together in Theatre for countless hours, the tension simmering between them had reached breaking point.

He’d needed to get away, get out of the city and away from Beth, but by sheer coincidence they’d both been scheduled for a long weekend off, so he’d put his cards on the table and asked her to go away with him. No strings, no commitment, no relationship, just a few days of adult fun by the seaside after the week from hell, and with any luck it’d get it out of his system.

If she’d said no it would have made life awkward, but frankly it had been awkward enough, so he’d had nothing to lose.

She hadn’t. To his astonishment she’d said yes, so he’d booked a room in a posh spa hotel in Yoxburgh and picked her up on the Saturday morning with a tingling sense of anticipation. They’d been too early to check in, so they’d driven down to the harbour, found the little pub and had lunch, then gone for a stroll along the riverbank to kill time.

And then he’d lifted her down off the stile and kissed her.

She hadn’t held him at arm’s length then, and they’d spent most of the next two days in bed having the hottest sex he’d ever had in his life.

He parked the car, slammed the door on his thoughts and headed into the pub with Beth.

‘It hasn’t changed at all,’ he murmured.

‘No. I doubt if it’s changed for decades. All part of its charm, I guess. So, what are we having?’

‘Fish and chips.’

She laughed at him. ‘Well, that’s healthy.’

‘I don’t care. You can have whatever you like, but after a day like today I need comfort food and calories.’

She gave a low chuckle, the sound running over his nerves like teasing fingertips, and his body leapt to life.

‘I might have the baked cod with a salad,’ she said, and then she tilted her head and looked at him. ‘How’s Jim? Any news?’

‘Yeah, he’s OK. They took out his left kidney, and he’s got an ex-fix on his leg, but he’s doing all right. He’s alive, anyway.’

‘Good. How about the RTC that held you up this evening?’

‘Well, they all made it, which is a relief. It’s never good to lose a patient on your first day.’

She chuckled again, and he gave her an answering smile, but hers faded and she studied him thoughtfully.

‘It was good working together again,’ she said, and he nodded slowly.

‘Yes. Yes, it was. I’d almost forgotten how intuitive we are together. It was like you knew what I’d want without me asking, but then you always could read my mind.’

‘Or maybe I’m just a good nurse and know my stuff.’

He arched a brow, and she pretended to scowl at him, her mouth puckering and making him want to kiss it.

He put his hands in the air, giving up the fight to hold back his smile. ‘Sorry, sorry. You are a good nurse. Best I’ve ever worked with. Is that better?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’ Her smile was back, playing around her mouth and softening her eyes, and for a moment he had an overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss her—

‘Fish and chips?’

He sat back, took a long, slow breath and looked up at their server.

‘Yeah, that’s mine.’ And in the nick of time…

‘Coffee? Unless you want to get back to your lovely new bed?’

He hesitated, then gave in, knowing it was foolish, knowing he was on a knife edge but unable to walk away.

‘It’ll keep another half hour. Coffee would be lovely.’ He cut the engine and followed her into her house. ‘Anything I can do?’

‘No, you’re fine, go and sit down, I’ll bring it through.’

So while she put the kettle on he wandered into the sitting room and closed the curtains, then sat down to wait for her, his eyes seeking out the little silver box as they always did, his heart heavy.

If they’d known before that weekend what was to follow, none of this would have happened, but of course they hadn’t. They’d spent the next two months together in blissful ignorance, and then in late January MFA had sent him on his first posting.

No strings, he’d said, so he’d had no contact with her, which had been fine because he’d been too busy to think about anything else, but then he’d come back on leave in early May, and he’d discovered she was pregnant.

It was his worst nightmare, the last thing he’d ever wanted to hear, and his first instinct was anger because he thought she’d done it on purpose, but then she told him their baby girl had such hugely complex congenital heart defects that she was unlikely to make it to term, and his world fell apart.

He was still reeling with shock when they lost her at twenty-seven weeks, the child he hadn’t even known about until the week before. The child he hadn’t wanted—or hadn’t known he wanted until it was too late. The child he would never have the chance to get to know because her little heart had given up the unequal struggle and stopped beating before he could meet her and tell her how much he loved her.

He’d spent two years trying to forget, but he knew now he never would.

He walked over to the little silver box and picked it up with infinite tenderness, nestling it in his palm, his other hand stroking it, needing to touch it, to touch her, to hold her again.

His poor, perfect, broken baby girl.

Why?

‘Ry?’

He put the heart down gently, as if not to wake her, and walked into Beth’s open arms.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he murmured gruffly, his voice a little ragged. ‘Why did it happen, Beth? Did they ever find out?’

‘No. They have no idea. They didn’t find anything in the tests—no chromosomal abnormalities, no genetic links, nothing to indicate it was anything other than a fault in her embryonic development. Just a glitch. One of those things.’

She eased out of his arms and sat down, patting the sofa beside her.

‘Come on, sit down and drink your coffee.’

He sat, but his eyes kept going back to the little heart and the pretty box beside it. Pandora’s box…

She put her mug down and looked at him, her eyes searching.

‘Do you want to look at it now?’

Could she read his mind? Maybe.

‘I don’t know.’

She got up again and went over to the box, bringing it back and putting it down on the coffee table, just out of reach. He could feel his heart beating, feel every thud against his ribs, taste the fear.

But fear of what? The contents of the box, or his own feelings? Maybe it was time to face them both.

He put his mug down and reached out, picking up the box and resting it gently on his knees. Like Pandora’s box, once opened, things could never go back to how they’d been. Could he risk that?

He swallowed, sucked in a long, slow breath and lifted the lid.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS THE letter that finished him.

He was expecting the rest. The beautiful little box contained all the poignant things he’d tried to blank out, like the tiny, precious footprints the midwife had made for them, the photographs she’d taken of them together holding Grace, the blanket they’d wrapped her in as they’d held her for hours in their arms before they said goodbye.

But at the bottom of the box was a single folded sheet of paper, and he lifted it out and unfolded it, totally unprepared for what it was.

A letter, from Beth to her baby daughter.

My darling Grace

I can’t tell you how much I love you, how much I miss you every single day, with all my heart. But you’ll always be part of me, and you’re with me wherever I go.

Carrying you in my body for your short life, giving birth to you, holding you in my arms, was an honour and a privilege I will never forget, and I’m so grateful I had that chance.

You are the best part of me, and I will treasure you forever.

Sleep tight, my darling.

Mummy xxx

The words swam in front of him, and she took the letter gently from his nerveless fingers and replaced it in the box with all the other precious things, then gathered him in her arms and held him while the racking sobs tore him apart.

She said nothing, just held him and rocked him, and gradually the pain subsided, leaving him feeling oddly cleansed, as if he’d been wiped clean.

Except not, because Grace’s name, her footprints, her photo, and the memories they’d made that day were engraved on his heart, an indelible part of him just as they were of Beth, and it felt right.

She handed him tissues, then said gently, ‘I guess that’s been a long time coming.’

He gave a ragged, fractured laugh and met her eyes, tender with understanding. ‘I guess so. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s OK to cry. I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve cried for her.’

He swiped the tears off his cheeks again with the palms of his hands and shook his head to clear it. ‘I haven’t, though. I haven’t let myself. That’s why I didn’t want to see. I suppose I’ve been in denial, really, ignoring it, but it didn’t work, because it’s always been there, deep inside, gnawing away at me like acid. It’s odd. It doesn’t feel like that any more. I’m sad, of course I’m sad, and I guess I always will be, but it’s like a weight’s lifted—does that make sense?’

She nodded. ‘It makes absolute sense. It’s acceptance, Ry. It takes a while to get there, but it makes it easier. You’ll still have bad days, though, times when things bring it all back and it catches you on your blind side.’

He nodded and leant back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her as they sat there quietly together. They didn’t speak, but for the first time he let himself think about the events of that day, the day their daughter had been born.

He thought about her delivery, how hard it had been all night knowing that at the end of it they would have nothing but memories. They’d induced her, because Beth didn’t want to wait, and she’d refused all pain relief, wanting to feel every last moment of it because it was the last thing she could do for her daughter, so he’d been there for her, supporting her as well as he could while his heart felt as if it had been locked in ice.

It had been a long night, and then as the first fingers of dawn crept over the horizon and touched the sky with gold, the midwife lifted Grace’s tiny body tenderly into Beth’s waiting arms.

He’d stood there helpless in the deafening silence, the silence that should have been filled with a baby’s cries, feeling as if he had no place there, no role in the tragedy, no way of making it better, but he’d been unable to leave them and so he’d stayed, eyes dry and gritty with exhaustion, his body as tight as a bowstring, his heart numb while Beth wept silent tears and spoke softly to her daughter.

And then she’d placed the baby in his arms, and his heart had cracked in two. It was the first and last time he’d cried for her, until tonight, and even then he hadn’t really let go.

A week later they’d gone together to register her birth and death, and then they’d held a quiet funeral service for her. Three days later he’d been recalled for his next posting by MFA and she’d told him to go, so he’d gone, relieved to be able to escape the all-consuming grief and get on and do something useful that would help someone somewhere, even though he couldn’t help her or himself.

Except of course there had been no escape, just a fierce suppression of his emotions until he’d become so used to it he’d thought he was over it.

Apparently not. Not by a long way.

He broke the silence at last, needing to acknowledge what she’d been through and his guilt for leaving her to deal with it alone. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t more help. I don’t know how you did it—how you were so strong, so brave, through all of it.’

‘I wasn’t brave, Ry, not at all. I was just doing what had to be done, and then once it was done I just felt empty.’

‘I shouldn’t have left you.’

She took his hand and kissed it, then held it in her hands, warm and firm and kind, Beth all over.

‘I sent you away, Ryan. I couldn’t deal with your grief as well as mine, and that was wrong. We should have grieved together for our daughter, but we didn’t know each other well enough. We still don’t, but we’re learning, day by day, and we’ll get there.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ He glanced at his phone and sighed. ‘Beth, I’m sorry, I need to go. It’s after eleven and I’m sure tomorrow will be just as long as today.’

She chuckled softly. ‘No doubt. I’m on a late, but you need to get to bed. You’ve had a hectic few days, you must be exhausted.’

‘I am. I tell you what, that bed had better be comfortable,’ he said wryly. ‘Did you try it?’

‘No, I didn’t have time, but if it isn’t there’s always the sofa. At least you know that’s comfy.’ She cocked her head on one side, her eyes searching his. ‘Are you all right, Ry?’

He laughed softly and nodded. ‘Yes, Beth. I’m all right. You?’

Her smile was sad. ‘I’m all right. I’m used to it now. It’s the new normal.’

He nodded, wondering how long it would take him to reach that point. He got to his feet, pulled her up and into his arms and hugged her gently.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much, for everything. You’ve been amazing, ever since I got here. You’ve always been amazing.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I’m not. I mean it. You’re the strongest person I know, Beth, and the kindest, and I don’t deserve you. Thank you.’

She hugged him back, then let him go. ‘You’re welcome. I hope you sleep well.’

He laughed. ‘I’m sure I will.’

She walked him to the door and he turned and kissed her, just the slightest brush of his lips on hers, and let himself out and drove home, then paused a moment on the drive, staring up at the stars twinkling in the clear, dark night, just as he had everywhere he’d been sent by MFA.

He loved the stars. They never changed, untouched by all the madness around him, the one constant in a changing world, and they never failed to centre him and put everything back into perspective.

How small and insignificant we are…

He let himself in, checked his email and looked at the bed—his new bed, carefully put together by Beth to save him the trouble because that was the kind of person she was—and felt another wave of guilt for leaving her alone when she’d been so sad and lost and torn with grief.

She would never have left him. He knew that, but at the time she’d been adamant that she didn’t need him. Only now it turned out she had needed him, but she’d been unable to cope with his grief, too, because they didn’t know each other well enough to grieve together.

Well enough to make a baby, but not well enough to lose one. Maybe, given time, they would find that closeness and with it some closure. He hoped so.

He looked at the bed again, but tired though he was he wasn’t ready, so he made himself a cup of chamomile tea and went out into the garden, sitting on the steps where they’d sat together only a couple of days ago, Beth’s letter to Grace echoing in his head.

Should he do the same? Write down his thoughts about his tiny daughter, the child he hadn’t known he wanted, and add them to hers? All the milestones they’d miss, the tears, the tantrums, the laughter? Her first smile, her first tooth, her first step—

He heard a noise behind him, a slight scrabbling, rustling noise. A hedgehog, probably, or a fox. They were on the edge of farmland, so it wasn’t unlikely.

And then he heard a whimper, and turned to see something creeping towards him across the grass. Something large, much bigger than a hedgehog, less shy than a fox.

A dog?

‘Hello, sweetie. What are you doing here?’ he asked softly, and it moved closer.

A dog. Definitely a dog, and not a small one, its tail wagging tentatively, black nose gleaming in the moonlight. He held out his hand, careful not to meet its eyes so it didn’t feel threatened, and the dog crept closer, flicking out its tongue to lick his fingers. He turned his hand over and scratched its chin, and it wriggled closer—close enough for him to smell it.

Dog, river mud and who knew what else.

It whined, and he stroked the tangled, scruffy head that pressed into his hand, its ears scarcely visible under the matted hair.

‘Oh, poppet. What a mess you’re in. Who are you? What are you doing here?’

It crept closer still, until it was resting up against his hip, its head heavy on his lap, and his hand slid down and felt ribs sticking out, and the bumps of its spine. It must be starving. ‘Are you hungry? Is that the matter?’

The dog got to its feet, tail wagging, and he got up and headed inside, the dog running ahead through the sitting room door to leap onto his brand new sofa.

‘Hey! No! Get off that!’

It wagged its tail, tongue lolling, still on the sofa as if it owned it, and everything fell into place.

He let out a rueful laugh. ‘You live here, don’t you? This is your house.’

The tail thumped, and he shook his head.

‘Get off my sofa. I don’t care how cute you are, you stink and you’re covered in mud. Come here, let’s find you some food and then work out what to do with you.’ He headed into the kitchen, and the dog followed, standing up on its back legs and peering at the worktop hopefully, tail lashing.

‘Dog! You have absolutely no manners! Sit!’

Paws dropped to the floor, and the dog sat and whined at him pitifully. He tried hard not to laugh, and pulled open the pantry to find the things he’d raided from his mother yesterday.

‘Right, what have we got here? Tuna. Do you like tuna? I guess you like anything. Tuna sandwich? Yup? Just don’t tell the vet.’

He drained the spring water off the tuna and mashed it between two slices of wholemeal bread, and then chopped them roughly, put them in a bowl Beth had found in the box and dumped it on the floor.

‘Well, that went down OK,’ he said with a chuckle, and shook his head slowly. ‘Dog, you need a bath, and a serious haircut. You’re the scruffiest thing I’ve ever seen.’

He put some water down in another bowl, but after a couple of slurps it gave up and came back to him, wuffing hopefully.

Still hungry. He had some ridiculously expensive peanut butter with no added anything, so he smeared a little dollop on another bit of bread and gave it to him. Her? He didn’t even know, but that was the least of his worries.

The smell, however…

He called Beth.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you. Are you still up?’

‘Yes. What’s the matter? Is the bed awful? Don’t tell me it fell to pieces—’

‘I haven’t got that far. Do you have any very mild shampoo and conditioner? And a brush you don’t care about, and a pair of scissors with blunt ends? Oh, and a hair dryer. And old towels. Lots of them.’

He heard a slightly choked noise, like a strangled laugh. ‘OK, what’s going on?’

‘You know the house smelt of dog? Well, it’s come back.’

‘The smell?’

‘No—well, yes, but on the dog. The dog came back, I have no idea where from, but whoever it belongs to, it’s in urgent need of a bath. I think it’s been in the river.’

She chuckled. ‘I’ll be right round.’

‘I’m glad you think it’s funny. Wear something scruffy.’

He heard another laugh as the line went dead, and he slid his phone into his pocket with a smile on his face and turned back to the dog, just in time to see it sneaking back onto the sofa, a stolen banana in its mouth…

‘Oh, my word.’

‘You have a habit of walking in here and saying that,’ he said drily, and she chuckled and eyed him up and down.

‘Well, you are covered in mud. So where is it?’

‘In the conservatory. I had to banish it. It jumped on the sofa with a banana it stole off the side in the kitchen.’

She felt her eyes widen. ‘Your new sofa, that you haven’t even sat on for more than ten seconds?’

His mouth quirked. ‘That’s the one.’

She bit her lips, trying really, really hard not to laugh. ‘Oh, dear. Good job it’s leather, at least it’ll wipe clean. Well, let’s see this thing, then.’

‘This thing’ turned out to be a clump of tangled, matted fur on gangly legs, but one swipe of its tongue on her outstretched hand and she was smitten.

‘Oh, dear. You are really, really muddy, poppet. I wonder what colour you are?’

‘Goodness knows. I have no idea where to start.’

She laughed and shoved up her sleeves. ‘Water, I think. A lot of water. Have you got a plastic jug or bowl or something we can mix the shampoo in?’

It took an hour, but finally the dog was bathed, then bathed again, and it turned out to be a dull, creamy grey, although that might have been the remnants of the river mud. They cut the matted hair away around its ears and neck, and then turned their attention to its body.

‘Well, little lady, you’re a girl,’ he said softly, clipping clumps off carefully around her armpits as she lolled on her back in the kitchen, tongue hanging out and all but grinning at him. ‘I wonder what your name is, you tatty old thing?’

He sat back on his heels, studied the dog for a moment and grinned. ‘Tatty. Perfect. And we can always call you Tatiana if we’re trying to be posh.’

We? Where had that come from?

‘You don’t need to name her, Ryan. You don’t even know whose she is,’ Beth pointed out gently, and he felt a sudden sense of anti-climax.

‘No. No, you’re right, I don’t,’ he said, coming down to earth with a bump. ‘I wonder if she’s microchipped?’

‘The neighbours might recognise her. Have you met any of them yet?’

‘No, not yet,’ he said, looking up from his clipping to meet her eyes. ‘I haven’t really had a chance.’ He looked down into the dog’s trusting eyes and sighed. ‘And you’re right, I don’t need to give her a name because I can’t keep her, can I? Even if she does think I’ve bought a new sofa especially for her.’

It was an odd thought, and he wasn’t sure he liked it, but he had to be realistic. How could he keep her? He worked ridiculous hours and he lived alone. It simply wasn’t fair.

But then she licked his hand, and his heart wrenched.

‘You can’t, Ry.’

He looked up at the softly voiced words. ‘Can’t what?’

‘Keep her. You can’t keep her.’

He stroked the damp head with its appalling haircut, looked into the melting dark eyes and felt like a traitor.

‘Let’s worry about that tomorrow,’ he said hastily. ‘For now, I have to find her somewhere to sleep, and you need to go home.’

He got to his feet, walked her to the door and hugged her hard.

‘Thank you so much,’ he mumbled into hair that smelt vaguely of river mud. ‘I couldn’t have done that on my own.’

‘Don’t thank me. It’s not like it’s your dog.’

That pang again.

‘Yeah, you’re right, although I’d stake my life she belongs to the tenants. She needs to go to the vet to see if she’s microchipped. Goodness knows when I’ll fit that in.’

‘I can do it. I don’t start work until tomorrow lunchtime. If you give me the key again I can pick her up and take her.’

‘I don’t know any vets. I don’t know any anything here. I wouldn’t know where to start.’

‘I’ll ask Annie Shackleton. They’ve got a dog, she’ll tell me everything I need to know.’

He shook his head, then gave in, because something needed to be done with the dog, whatever. ‘Here—the spare key. You might as well keep it,’ he said, suppressing the thought that it felt vaguely symbolic. ‘I’ll leave her in the conservatory when I go, so if you could put her back there afterwards that would be great. There’s nothing there she can trash. You’ll need a collar and lead to take her, though, if your friend’s got one.’

‘I’ll sort it. Get to bed. We’ll be fine. I’ll see you at twelve when my shift starts, and tell you what the vet said.’

He searched her eyes, then nodded and bent his head to kiss her, just as she came up on tiptoe to do the same to him. Their lips clashed, held, and he felt fire shoot through his body. The kiss deepened, changed from an accidental clash to a very deliberate but tender caress that came out of nowhere and didn’t seem to want to end.

He wasn’t sure who backed away first, but she turned and opened the door and let herself out hurriedly with a little wave, and he watched her go, his emotions in turmoil, his body screaming in protest.

The dog whined at his side, and he dropped his hand down and found her head. ‘She’s gone, sweetheart,’ he said regretfully. ‘It’s time for bed. Come on, Tatty. Let’s find you a bed and put you away for the night. I need some sleep because I’ve got to be at work in five hours.’

Haha.

Between the kiss and the dog howling and whining in the conservatory there was no way he was going to sleep, so after two hours he relented and let her in, spread one of his new bath towels on the floor beside the bed and pointed firmly at it.

‘Down!’

She gave him a baleful look, curled up on it and stayed there, to his relief, and he finally managed to drop off.

For a while, at least, but when his alarm dragged him up to the surface at six she was there, lying up against him on the bed, her head next to his on the pillow.

He turned his head and glared at her. ‘Tatty, you can’t do this! Off!’

No chance. She grinned and licked his face, and he wondered just exactly when, if ever, she’d been wormed. He threw the covers off and got up, heading for the bathroom with the dog at his heels.

‘You need the vet, and I need a shower and some clothes that don’t smell of you, because I have to go to work. Do you want breakfast first? Probably.’

She polished off the rest of his loaf of bread, mostly while his back was turned, and she didn’t even have the grace to look guilty.

He put her back in the conservatory and went to work hungry.

Poor Ryan.

The look on his face when he’d realised he couldn’t keep her. Still, maybe by this morning he’d thought better of it. He’d probably thought better of their goodnight kiss, at least. She certainly had—hadn’t she?

Liar.

She got up, showered and washed her hair to get rid of the occasional whiff of river mud that was coming from somewhere, dressed in jeans and a top that didn’t matter, and headed for Annie and Ed Shackleton’s house.

They lived just round the corner on the seafront, and it was the school holidays so hopefully they’d be in. She pulled up outside their house just as Annie was walking back with their dog, Molly, and she got out of the car with a smile.

‘Morning, Annie. That was perfect timing!’

‘Hi, Beth. Are you OK? What can I do for you?’

Ten minutes later, armed with a collar and lead and an appointment with the Shackletons’ vet, Beth collected Tatty from Ryan’s conservatory and was about to load her into the car when a voice came from behind her.

‘She came back, then. I did wonder if she might.’

Beth turned round and saw an elderly man peering through the hedge. ‘Oh—hi. Do you know her?’

‘Yes, she belonged to the tenants. Said they were rehoming her but they looked a bit shifty about it. Did a runner in the middle of the night, too. Packed up a van and went. I reckon they owed rent again. So, you and your young man have taken it on, have you?’

For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was talking about the house or the dog, but then she realised he was looking at the house. ‘Yes—well, Ryan has. He’s not my young man, he’s just a friend.’

Why did that feel like a lie?

The man pushed his way through a gap in the hedge, and stuck his hand out. ‘I’m Reg, by the way.’

She freed a hand from the lead and shook his. ‘I’m Beth.’

Reg stooped and patted the dog. ‘He’s brave taking it on. They left it in a right old state.’

‘Yes, they did, but it’s better now. Reg, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude but I’ve got an appointment with the vet.’

‘Better not hold you up then, young lady. Nice to meet you. And tell your Ryan if there’s anything he needs, just ask.’

‘I will.’

He gave the dog a last pat and she watched him wrestle his way back through the gap in the hedge, then she opened the boot and gave Tatty a little tug. She sat down and whined, and Beth eyed her thoughtfully.

She was NOT a small dog. The boot was barely big enough. Did she really need to wrestle with her?

‘Please, Tatty. Come on. Good girl,’ she wheedled, and to her astonishment the dog jumped in, licked her hand and sat down.

Phew. She got behind the wheel and drove carefully to the practice, one eye on the rear-view mirror, but the dog just sat there, giving the odd whine. Presumably her last journey had ended in her being evicted from the car and dumped in the middle of nowhere—unless she genuinely had been rehomed and had simply run away?

‘Poor Tatty,’ she said softly, and the dog whined again.

‘Well? Do we know who she is?’

‘Sort of. No microchip, as expected, but I met your neighbour, Reg. She was the tenants’ dog.’

He nodded. ‘I was pretty sure she was. She made herself at home last night, anyway. She ended up on my bed.’

Beth’s eyes widened, and he laughed.

‘Don’t look surprised. She’s very persuasive when she’s howling at three in the morning and I didn’t want to be kicked out by the landlord.’

‘I don’t think that’s going to happen. After the last lot, he’s going to be only too happy to have you there. Reg said if there’s anything you need, just ask, by the way. He seemed to think we were a couple. I told him you were just a friend.’

That word again. Even less right after their kiss last night. He grunted. ‘I’ll go and introduce myself when I get home. So did he say what the dog’s name was?’

‘No, but I didn’t ask, and the vet didn’t recognise her, but apparently she’s possibly some kind of retriever cross, she’s young, and there’s something else you need to know. She’s about four or five weeks pregnant.’

He felt his jaw drop, and sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Seriously? Oh, Beth. What the hell do we do now?’

‘We?’ She laughed and walked away. ‘Your dog, McKenna. It’s nothing to do with me. I suggest you try and contact the owners.’

Over his dead body.

But realistically, did he have a choice? He rang the letting agent, told him the dog had come back and asked if he had a forwarding address for the previous tenants, but of course he didn’t. They owed two months’ rent. Why would they give anyone their address?

Which left him with the need to rehome her somehow. He found a rescue centre on the internet, and the moment he got home he rang them.

They were full, but they said they’d take her as soon as they had a space.

‘Don’t hold your breath, though,’ the receptionist said. ‘It could be a while. Are you able to keep her in the meantime?’

He said he could, trying to work out why the feeling in his chest felt remarkably like relief, then gave her his details and went into the kitchen and found a note from Beth, propped up against the kettle.

Dry food’s in the pantry. She’s twenty-five kilos but add twenty per cent more food because she’s pregnant. Couldn’t find scales, but she’s had lunch and didn’t seem to mind! Chart on the side of the food bag. Divide by three—obvs. And keep the door shut!

He sighed, went into the pantry with Tatty at his side, and examined the chart with a bit of enthusiastic assistance. Beth hadn’t been able to find the scales because there weren’t any, but he made an educated guess.

That would do, for now. He’d give her a bit more later and buy scales tomorrow. Assuming he’d still have her. Sounded like it.

He put her dry food into the bowl Beth had left him, ate a tin of baked beans cold out of the can with a fork, and looked at the clock on the cooker.

Quarter to eight. Still time for a quick walk before dusk, if they didn’t hang about. He put Tatty—no, the dog—on the borrowed lead and took her down to the river and along the river wall. She didn’t seem keen on the lead, but she seemed happy enough by his side and soon got used to it, and they walked until the light was fading and got home just before nine.

He was still hungry, but of course she’d eaten the bread that morning so he couldn’t even make a sandwich, so he had a bowl of cereal and gave the dog another handful of kibble, then made a coffee and headed for the sitting room, the dog in tow.

All he wanted was to sit down quietly on the sofa with his phone, check his emails and do a little research into dog pregnancy and rehoming—although if he was rehoming her, the pregnancy research was irrelevant.

Assuming he got a chance to do it anyway, because Tatty had gone in the garden and come back victorious with a muddy ball in her mouth, and dropped it at his feet.

Of course. Somewhere in her ancestry was a retriever. And all they wanted to do, like all the gun dog breeds, was just exactly that. So he rolled the ball, and she fetched it, and he rolled it, she fetched it, over and over again until finally he hid it behind his back.

‘No. It’s gone. Lie down.’

She whined, gave a resigned sigh and hopped onto the sofa, curled up and went to sleep. Well, almost. One eye was still slightly open, just in case…

He grunted and turned his attention back to his dog-rehoming research.

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