The tree was almost finished.

‘What do you say you and Beth put the fairy at the top together?’ Matt lifted the fairy from her resting place on the coffee table and brought her over to Jack.

Carefully she guided Jack’s hand and fixed the fairy to the top of the tree. ‘There! Now, we’ll all close our eyes and make a wish.’

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, wishing hard. Beth’s eyes met Matt’s and caught in his liquid gaze. ‘Close your eyes.’ She whispered the words so quietly that she almost mouthed them at him. He had to have a wish. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he didn’t.

He closed his eyes just in time. He didn’t see her wipe the tear away as it dribbled from the side of her eye. And before he had a chance to open them again she had hastened back down the ladder and turned away, so that she could no longer see what her heart desired the most and what she knew she could never have.

Dear Reader

This is a very special first for me. As I write this letter, I haven’t seen this book in print yet. By the time you read it, I will have experienced the long awaited thrill of actually holding my first book. There will, however, still be one more thing for me to look forward to with grateful appreciation—the gift that you make of your time, in sharing Matt and Beth’s story with me.

The book started life as an entry to the Mills and Boon Medical™ FastTrack initiative. When I first read about this ground-breaking new way of encouraging writers to submit their work, it seemed too good to be true. The offer of hearing back on a submission in days. And best of all, the possibility of receiving comments from an editor.

The shock and surprise when I received an email giving guidelines for improvements and inviting me to submit a full manuscript was profound. Then, after a learning curve that seemed almost vertical at times, self doubt and agonising hope, the unthinkable happened. The Call. The news that a book has been accepted for publication.

I knew what Beth was going to be like right from the outset—capable, good at her job and a gifted communicator. She’s also determined not to be defined by the fact that she’s deaf. One of the things I like the most about Matt is that he sees her communication skills as special, not just equal to his own, but different and better.

I hope you enjoy Matt and Beth’s story. I’m always delighted to hear from readers and you can email me via my website, which is at www.annieclaydon.com

About the Author

Cursed from an early age with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. After completing her degree in English Literature, she indulged her love of romantic fiction and spent a long, hot summer writing a book of her own. It was duly rejected and life took over, a series of U-turns leading in the unlikely direction of a career in computing and information technology. The lure of the printed page proved too much to bear, though and she now has the perfect outlet for the stories which have always run through her head, writing Medical™ Romance for Mills and Boon. Living in London, a city where getting lost can be a joy, she has no regrets in having taken her time in working her way back to the place that she started from.

All She Wants For Christmas

Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The list of people who deserve heartfelt thanks is a long one—but my mum is not so well at the moment so I’m sure no-one will mind if she is first in the queue.

For my mother who taught me how to read and write and always encouraged me to do both

CHAPTER ONE

MATT SUTHERLAND was lost. The feeling had become increasingly familiar to him over the last few years and he did what he always did. Set his emotions aside, decided on a course of action and pressed forward. In this particular instance, the strategy didn’t seem to be working and he was in danger of being late for his breakfast meeting.

The wide, cream-painted corridors of the hospital still looked as uniform as they had two weeks ago. He increased his pace to catch up with two women up ahead, walking companionably together, both loaded down with bags, coats and NHS standard issue manila folders. They had to be on the staff. Matt caught up with them, brushing the sleeve of the closest with his fingers, and she turned.

‘Excuse me.’ He spoke before he had taken a moment to look at her. ‘I’m looking for Cardiology.’ He stopped, suddenly aware of a pair of wide grey eyes looking up at him. Candid eyes, which looked directly and unashamedly at his face, making his lips tingle slightly as if he had only just remembered that they existed.

‘You’re on the wrong wing—this is yellow.’ The other woman spoke up, pulling Matt’s attention away. ‘You need blue—the two wings have the same layout and Cardiology’s in this location, only on blue wing. Go right to the end of this corridor, through the swing doors, turn left, then keep going until you get to Reception and follow the signs.’

‘Thanks.’ He turned back to the grey eyes of her companion. A distant, almost unrecognisable former self would have stopped and chatted, undaunted by any imagined consequence of charming her name out of her. Even now, a perverse, insistent voice at the back of his head made him try to goad her into speaking. ‘So it’s two parallel universes, then. Blue and yellow.’

She nodded. Her face was framed with dark curls and her half-smile struck him as intriguing rather than disinterested. A long-forgotten thrill ignited in his gut, and Matt reminded himself sternly that there was somewhere else he needed to be.

‘Okay, thanks.’ He’d got a reaction of sorts and found himself grinning in response. He cut his losses and hurried away, the cold gloom of a chilly December morning forgotten for the moment.

Turning, as if he wanted to check the direction, he saw the women behind him. They had stopped outside one of the entranceways in the corridor, their bags at their feet, and were facing each other, their hands forming words and phrases as they silently laughed together.

Nice one, Matt. Her gaze, so intent on his lips, had simply been so that she could see what he was saying. Regret tugged at a part of his consciousness that he thought he had left behind for ever and he turned on his heel, making for the reception area that he had walked through five minutes ago.

As soon as the stranger’s back was turned, Marcie Taylor turned to her companion, a broad grin on her face. The sign she made with her hand was not for Beth’s benefit, but so the man walking away from them could not hear her comment. Nice!

Beth turned to watch him hurry away, his dark coat open and swirling around his legs, a gash of red at his neck from a bright woollen scarf. She twisted back to face Marcie before he had a chance to turn and catch her staring.

‘Do you know who he is?’ Marcie was still signing.

Beth shook her head. ‘ID tags and a suit. He must be pretty senior. The new head of cardiology maybe?’

‘Must be. They say we were lucky to get him. Some hotshot surgeon from one of the London Centres of Excellence.’ Marcie slipped back into speech now that the man was through the swing doors and safely out of earshot. ‘Quite a catch all round in my opinion.’

Beth felt her colour rise and gestured a ‘so-so’ with her hand, her fingers trembling slightly at the audacity of the understatement. ‘Nice eyes.’

‘And the rest,’ Marcie retorted. ‘If it’d been me on the end of that smile he gave you, I’d be on the phone right now, telling James that it was all over.’

‘You’d do no such thing!’

‘Okay, so I’m all talk. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, though.’ Marcie’s grin turned calculating. ‘If he’s new in town he probably won’t know anyone. Do you think I should ask him to our Christmas party? If you’re passing Cardiology, you could pop in and deliver the invitation. Just a nice, friendly welcome, eh?’

‘Why would I do that? It’s your party.’ Beth assumed a look of injured innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a child. Anyone with a pulse would have noticed that smile.

Marcie signed her frustration. ‘Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with parties. You get to know people. Remember dating?’

Beth made a face, turning the corners of her mouth down. ‘I remember your party last year. If that’s what dating entails, I think I’ll pass.’

‘Ah, Pete. The man who put the x into excruciating. Anyone who thinks that my Christmas party is the right place for business networking and not slow-dancing with his fiancée …’ Marcie stopped and bit her lip. ‘I should have taken him out and shot him.’

A mental picture of Marcie, in a fabulous dress and killer heels, marching Pete out into the night with a shotgun came to Beth’s rescue and she grinned. ‘Would have saved him the trouble of working up that list of reasons for dumping me, anyway.’

‘There was only one reason, and that one stank. Along with his timing.’

‘At least he gave me ten days to work out what my New Year’s resolutions were going to be. And in case you’re wondering, they’re going to be the same for next year. Stand on my own two feet and forget about dating for good.’ A stranger’s smile was no reason to abandon the two mantras that had stood her in such good stead for the last year.

‘Just because Pete turned out to be a complete toad, doesn’t mean that there aren’t any nice guys out there.’ Marcie’s eyes softened. ‘James, for instance.’

‘James is married. In case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Well, he wasn’t when I met him.’

Beth chuckled. ‘And you rectified that omission as soon as humanly possible.’ She jerked her thumb in the direction that the tall, blond-haired stranger had taken. ‘I’ll bet you anything you like he’s married, too.’

Marcie’s gaze followed the direction of Beth’s gesture. ‘What makes you think that? Apart from the fact that you’re hoping he might be because then you don’t have to think about the possibility that he might be available.’

‘He’s got kids. No one without kids wears a scarf with a school name tag on it.’

Marcie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Okay, Sherlock, you win.’ She rummaged in her bag for a bunch of keys and unlocked the door to the audiology and hearing therapy unit. ‘I’ll ask him anyway. If he doesn’t bring a wife along, you owe me coffee for a month.’

If Beth had decided not to go anywhere near Cardiology, fate, in the shape of a six-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes, seemed to have other ideas. She had found him wandering alone in the corridor outside the hearing therapy unit, dirt on his hands and the knees of his jeans and close to tears. After a halting start, a little gentle persuasion got the whole story out of him.

‘So your dad works here?’ Beth had bathed his hands and was dabbing them dry. ‘What’s his name, Jack?’

Jack’s tears were forgotten now and he looked up at her proudly. ‘He’s a doctor and he works in the cardiology department—that means hearts.’ Beth nodded, looking impressed. ‘His name is Matt Sutherland.’

Beth’s eyes skittered to the dark blue cashmere scarf that Jack had been wearing, which had struck her as slightly unsuitable for a child. ‘All right, then, Jack, I’m just going to make a phone call and find out where your dad is right now and then we can go and find him together.’

The thought that he was married with a child gave Beth the perfect reason to ignore the thrill that accompanied any thought of the disturbingly attractive Dr Sutherland. A call to his secretary elicited his whereabouts and Beth got Jack back into his coat, gripping the boy’s hand tightly all the way down to Outpatients. The receptionist nodded her through, indicating that Dr Sutherland was currently alone and pointing to the small consulting room that was his for the afternoon.

Beth stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. This was stupid. Just knock.

‘Should I do our special secret-code knock?’ Jack was looking up at her seriously.

‘Do what, Jack?’

‘Our secret code. So Dad knows it’s me. He knocks back with his secret code and I know it’s him.’

The temptation was almost irresistible, but the new head of cardiology was unlikely to live that one down in a hurry. Beth pulled her face straight. ‘No, probably not. You don’t want everyone to know it, do you?’

Before Jack could answer she raised her hand to tap on the door. As she did so, it flew open and her knuckles almost hit solid flesh instead of wood. Snatching her hand away, Beth caught his cool, clean scent as Matt Sutherland started backwards.

Only Jack seemed undeterred by the abrupt introduction. ‘Hi, Dad.’

This close, he seemed taller. And without his jacket, the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled up, he looked broader as well. ‘Dr Sutherland?’ Jack’s reaction had pretty much established that, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that was even vaguely appropriate.

‘Yes … Yeah, I’m Matt, Jack’s father. What’s he doing here?’ He was standing stock still, blocking the doorway, one hand on Jack’s shoulder.

‘Beth Travers. Can we come in?’

‘Sorry … Yes, of course.’ His eyes flipped rapidly over the empty waiting room behind them and he stepped back, motioning Beth over to a chair. Jack slid past him and ran to the revolving chair that sat behind the desk.

‘Is this your chair, Dad?’

‘Yes. Want to try it out?’ He was watching Beth as Jack climbed into the chair, his expression dispassionate.

‘I found Jack wandering on his own, outside Hearing Therapy. He told me that his day-care lady was knocked over by a car and that he’d been brought here with her in the ambulance.’

‘What?’ Matt spun round towards his son. ‘Are you all right, Jack?’

Jack was ignoring him in favour of the contents of his desk.

‘He wasn’t hit by the car, but he fell over when his carer pushed him out of the way and there’s a graze on his hand.’ Beth kept her voice even, reassuring. ‘He hasn’t complained of any pain and doesn’t seem dizzy or disorientated.’

The shock in his eyes had subsided and Matt was nodding to her as if he were taking a patient’s history from a colleague. ‘Thank you. Will you stay a moment, while I take a look at him?’ He didn’t wait for an answer and Beth supposed it was an instruction rather than an invitation.

He dropped on one knee in front of the boy, swivelling the chair around to face him. Without being asked, Jack pulled Beth’s penlight out of his pocket and proffered it to his father. ‘Are you going to shine a light at me?’

Matt took the penlight and flipped it on. ‘You want me to shine it anywhere in particular?’

Jack leaned forward, jabbing his finger towards his father’s eye. ‘When you shine a light into someone’s eye, the middle bit gets smaller. Con-con ….’

‘Constricts.’ Beth supplied the word quickly and Matt turned towards her, the tenderness that was spilling from his face catching her unawares, making her wish she’d kept quiet.

Matt shot her a grin and returned to his son. ‘Do you know what makes them get bigger again? That’s called dilating.’

‘When you’re in the dark. Beth showed me. Her eyes do it, too.’

Matt laughed quietly. ‘I imagine they do.’ He shaded Jack’s face from the overhead lights with his hand, checking his pupils quickly with the penlight. ‘That looks good. Shall I ask you some questions as well?’

Jack thought for a moment. ‘I didn’t hit my head when I fell over. And nothing hurts. I told Beth that already.’

‘Well, that’s good to know. Anything else?’ As he was speaking he was easing the boy out of his coat, checking him for any signs of injury as he went, his manner so casual that Jack hardly seemed to notice.

‘I have a minor abrasion on my hand.’ He held out his grazed palm for his father to see.

‘Do you now? Well, I’m glad you remembered that.’ He shone the light from the pen torch onto Jack’s hand and studied it closely. ‘Well, I think you’ll live, mate. We’ll put some antiseptic cream on it, just to make sure it heals nicely.’ He flipped the penlight quickly towards his son and Jack caught it adroitly. There was nothing wrong with the boy’s reactions.

Matt seemed satisfied, but Jack grabbed at his arm. ‘You haven’t done the thing with your fingers yet, Dad.’ Matt shot her a questioning look and Beth avoided his gaze.

‘Look, like this.’ Jack tipped his father’s face back towards him, laying one hand under his chin and carefully moving the other back and forth. He nodded slightly, in an almost flawless impression of what Beth had done, then suddenly made a face, hooting with laughter.

Embarrassment crawled across the back of her neck. Okay, so crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue had made Jack laugh, but she wasn’t so sure that his father would consider it particularly professional.

A deep chuckle shook his frame. ‘All right. That does it.’ He had his back turned to Beth, but from Jack’s reaction it was apparent that Matt had risen to the challenge and was indulging in a face-pulling contest. Jack grimaced horribly and Matt rose. ‘You win. No one with a face like that can have a great deal wrong with them.’ He turned to Beth. ‘Thank you. Do you know what’s happening with his carer, Mrs Green?’

He spoke quietly, without exaggerating the movements of his mouth, and faced her. When most people heard her speak and divined from her accent that she was deaf, they looked away and shouted, neither of which helped in the slightest.

‘I can hear you.’ She’d rather say it upfront than leave people to wonder. He nodded but still his eyes never left her face. ‘I called Phyllis to find out where you were and she’s trying to locate Mrs Green. She’ll call as soon as she knows.’

‘Thanks. I really appreciate your kindness.’ He perched himself on the edge of his desk, leaving Jack to play with the penlight. ‘So you found him outside the hearing therapy unit? Is that where everyone who gets lost looking for Cardiology eventually ends up?’

So he did remember her. Beth couldn’t suppress the smile that sprang to her lips. ‘Pretty much. Parallel universes will do that kind of thing.’

His face broke into a wide grin. ‘That they will.’ The gleam in his eyes extinguished suddenly. ‘And he was all on his own?’

‘He must have given the staff the slip when the ambulance crew handed over to Casualty. He was looking for you.’

Matt let out a growl of exasperation. ‘Jack, how many times have I told you—?’

Beth’s phone came to Jack’s rescue, vibrating suddenly in her pocket. ‘This must be Phyllis.’ She glanced at the caller display. ‘Here. You’d better speak to her.’ Phyllis had a knack of being able to speak in whole paragraphs before she needed to draw breath and Matt was more likely to be able to keep up with her on the phone.

He took the handset with a grin and pressed it against his ear. Barely getting a ‘hello’ in, he nodded and then a thumbs up in Beth’s direction told her that Mrs Green was not too badly hurt.

‘That’s great, Phyllis, thanks. I’ll take him up there to see her … Can you call—? Great … thanks.’ He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Beth and then his attention was all for Jack, who had been fidgeting miserably in his seat. ‘Rough day, eh, mate?’

Jack nodded, sliding down from the chair towards Matt, who lifted him effortlessly into his arms. ‘Is Mrs Green really going be all right?’ Jack’s hands were clasped tightly around his father’s neck and he seemed to be wiping his nose on Matt’s shirt.

‘Yes. She’s hurt her wrist and her ribs are very sore, but they’re looking after her very well right here in the hospital. She’ll be as good as new before you know it.’ He tipped Jack’s face up towards his and Beth found herself smiling at the almost unbearable tenderness of the gesture. ‘We can go and see her later and you’ll be able to check her out for yourself. In the meantime, Phyllis is ringing your gran and she’ll come and fetch you.’

Jack brightened visibly, wriggling in his father’s grip, and Matt let him back down onto his feet. ‘That’s all right, Dad. I can stay with Beth.’

‘No. Beth’s got enough to do, without coming to our rescue every time you and I decide to get lost.’ He flashed her a delicious grin. Warm and confiding, with a hint of mischief. Perfectly calculated. Beth reckoned he had his patients eating out of his hand with that one.

The phone on his desk rang and Matt snatched it up. From the way that he listened first, rather than talking, it was obviously Phyllis on the other end. ‘Okay, thanks, Phyllis … No, I’ll work something out … Yeah, thanks, I’ll call you.’ He laid the handset back in its cradle and focused on the stack of patient files on his desk, a muscle twitching at the side of his jaw.

‘Childcare problems?’ It seemed a bit presumptuous to ask, but Matt was clearly torn between his son and his patients.

‘Yeah. I haven’t quite mastered the knack of being in two places at once yet.’

‘If you have patients to see then I can look after Jack. We have a children’s play area in the HTU, and I don’t have any appointments this afternoon. He’ll be quite safe. Marcie and I won’t let him out of our sight.’

It was an obvious solution, but for some reason Matt seemed intent on pursuing his original course of action. ‘Thank you, that’s kind, but I really can’t impose on you like that. Phyllis has offered to take care of him in my office if she can’t reach my mother.’

Jack tugged at his arm. ‘That’s all right, Dad. I’ll go with Beth and you can come and fetch me later. The hearing place is much nicer than your office.’

‘We’ve got paints. And glitter pens. We could make Mrs Green a get-well-soon card.’ Beth winked conspiratorially at Jack, who shot his father a pleading look.

Matt hesitated. It seemed there was one person, at least, who had the power to veto his instructions. ‘You’re going to do exactly as Beth tells you, aren’t you? Leave the messing around for tonight, when you get home.’

Jack’s outraged expression made it plain that messing about had never been further from his thoughts and Matt laughed down at his son. ‘Okay, then. Looks as if the lady with the glitter pens has outbid me.’

CHAPTER TWO

ALL afternoon, the grey eyes, which warmed to a colour he could not quite define when Beth smiled, had been beckoning to Matt and he had doggedly ignored the summons. Bitter experience had already taught him that distractions of this kind led to dangerous places. Anyway, no one had eyes that great, it must have been a trick of the light.

Slipping through the open door of the hearing therapy unit, he found himself in a small reception area, with a wide archway leading through to another room, which seemed to be set up as an informal association area. He could hear Jack’s voice and went to walk towards it when something in the boy’s tone made him stop.

‘My mum was in a road accident like Mrs Green.’ There was a silence and Matt started forward again, freezing again when he heard Jack continue.

‘She wasn’t all right, though. She died.’

There was a rustle, as if someone had moved in their seat, and he heard Beth’s voice, clear and melodic. ‘I would be very sad if that happened to me.’

Jack spoke again. ‘Is that how you say you feel sad? With your hand like that?’

‘Yes.’ There was a pause. ‘That’s right, Jack, you are telling me that you feel sad.’

Matt sagged back against the wall, unprepared for the violence of the emotion that had hit him. Jack was talking about his mother at last. After two years of hardly even referring to her his silence had been broken. His lips twisted at the irony of it. Jack’s silence had not been broken. He had found another way to express his feelings.

‘My dad feels sad, too, but he doesn’t say so.’ Jealousy stabbed at Matt, twisting the knife in his chest. Why was Jack talking to a virtual stranger when his own father had tried so hard to be there for him?

‘Sometimes when you feel sad, you try to hide that from the people you love the best.’ Matt shook his head as the words reached him. She was absolutely right, but it was more complicated than that. But Jack was never to know that. No one was.

‘It’s because I’m just a kid.’ There was a trace of resentment in Jack’s voice.

‘You’re not just anything. And it’s your dad’s job to look after you, Jack.’ Her tone invited no argument.

‘I bet no one had to look after you when you were a kid.’

Beth laughed. ‘Oh, yes, they did. Shall I tell you a secret?’

Perhaps he shouldn’t listen. On the other hand, the kind of secret you told to a child was unlikely to be anything too earth-shattering. Matt found himself leaning forward.

‘I’ve got a big brother called Charlie. When I was little, he could hear much better than I could, and I hated it when he tried to help me. It made me feel stupid, as if I couldn’t do anything right. I used to pretend I could hear things when I couldn’t.’

‘How did you do that?’

‘Oh, there are lots of ways you can tell what people are saying without hearing them. Even if you can’t see their lips properly to read them, the expressions on their faces can tell you what they’re thinking. You just have to look.’

Were his own secrets written on his face? Matt swallowed hard. Of course not, he was just being paranoid. Beth had made a connection with Jack, not him.

There was silence and then Beth spoke again. ‘I’m sure you do miss your mum. But you don’t need to finger-spell all the words. Look, you can say it like this.’

Matt squeezed his eyes shut. He would have given anything to hear Jack say the words that he knew were forming silently on his hands. But this would have to be enough for the moment. Beth had the tone exactly right—just a simple exercise in how to sign, which was allowing Jack to approach topics that he hadn’t spoken about before. Why on earth hadn’t he thought of something like that?

Dared he try to catch a glimpse of them? Standing here was torture, but he knew that it was important to give Jack time to say everything he wanted to.

‘That’s right.’ Jack had obviously got the signs she had taught him correct. ‘Now, I’ll show you something else that you might want to say to your dad.’

‘I know what that is!’ Jack exclaimed excitedly, and there was silence again as he signed back to her.

‘No—look, like this.’

Another pause, and her soft laugh sounded, curling around Matt’s senses like a gentle summer breeze. ‘Well done, you’re very good at this.’

They had obviously concluded their business and Matt reckoned it was about time he got Jack home. He was going to have to wait to find out what it was that Beth had thought Jack might like to say to him, and the urge to see both of them was becoming irresistible. He stepped forward into the wide archway, as if he had just walked in through the door.

She caught sight of him, and for a moment all Matt could think about was that her eyes, still dancing with laughter, were even more compellingly beautiful than he had remembered.

It wasn’t just her eyes either. Every time he looked at her he seemed to find something else that fascinated him.

‘Hello, there.’ Her voice broke the spell, and Jack’s head, just visible above the back of the chair facing her, bobbed as he scrambled round to see his father. ‘We were just …’ Her hands moved almost unconsciously and Matt wondered whether the words that had not escaped her lips were being formed by her fingers.

Jack ran to him, throwing his hands around his waist, and Matt dropped his case, his hands on his son’s back, his eyes still imprisoned in the curve of her lips. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, as if she had scraped it impatiently out of the way, little strands waving around her face in the kind of effect that a hairdresser might take hours to achieve. As she tilted her head towards him he caught sight of the cochlear implant that had been hidden by her hair the last time he had seen her.

It took a conscious effort to drag his gaze from her face and look down at Jack. ‘Have you been good for Beth?’ Even her name seemed to linger in his senses, brushing his lips like the promise of a kiss.

Jack nodded vigorously and Beth smiled at him. ‘It’s been a pleasure having him down here.’ She looked at her watch. ‘You’re a little early.’ The words were almost a reproach and her manner seemed slightly changed, a shade more distant than earlier on.

‘Yeah. One of my patients didn’t turn up for his appointment and a couple were early, so I’m ahead of schedule for once.’

She made no comment. Matt moved awkwardly into the room, hampered by the fact that Jack had slipped his fingers through his belt and was trying to tug him towards her. Suddenly, the way forward became blindingly obvious.

His fingers brushed her elbow and Beth almost yelped as she jumped back. She didn’t want him touching her, not now. Not after the bombshell that Jack had just dropped. Somewhere, alongside the sorrow at a woman’s death and the clawing regret that a child should have to suffer this, there had been sympathy for Matt. And however natural that might be, it was still an emotion. She didn’t trust herself with any kind of emotion when it came to Matt Sutherland.

‘I want to thank you for this afternoon. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for Jack.’ He had reacted to her start and was maintaining a safe distance now.

‘It’s been my pleasure. Jack’s been keeping me company and helping out with lots of different things.’ Jack wasn’t the problem. It was his father who was unsettling her.

Beth turned her back on both of them, on the pretext of collecting her coat and handbag. Now that Matt was out of range and out of sight, she could think more clearly and her hands unconsciously repeated the resolutions that the heat of his smile had reshaped into restrictions. Stand on your own two feet. No more dating.

When she looked around, Matt was already cajoling Jack into his coat, and she tucked the display boards that she was taking home under one arm and slung her handbag across her shoulder. Pausing to sign a goodbye to Jack, she made for the door.

Jack signed back to her and then turned to Matt. ‘You don’t know what I said to Beth, do you?’

‘Not a clue, mate.’ Matt gave her a conspiratorial wink that would have melted an iceberg. ‘Care to tell me?’

Jack shook his head and turned to Beth. ‘It’s our secret language and my dad doesn’t know what we’re saying.’

The son was so like his father, blond and blue eyed, but so unlike him as well. Jack was lively and open, his thoughts and feelings easy to read. ‘Not much of a secret around here, Jack. Everyone knows how to sign.’

‘Yes, but my dad doesn’t.’ Jack flashed Matt a look of reproach.

‘Well, perhaps you’ll teach me, then.’ Matt rumpled his son’s hair, his easy warmth surfacing again.

‘Beth could teach you.’ Jack stretched up towards his father confidingly. ‘Beth’s got a bionic ear.’

Jack looked at her for approval and Beth grinned. One of the things she liked about children was their ability to refer to her cochlear implant as if it was something to be proud of.

‘It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?’ Matt sounded as impressed as Jack had been. ‘All the same, I want you to teach me what you’ve learned today.’ His jaw tightened and Beth wondered again whether he had heard any of her conversation with Jack.

Jack heaved a theatrical sigh and waited at Matt’s side while Beth pulled her coat on and dumped the display boards outside the door, fishing in her handbag for her keys. Before she’d even slid the key into the lock, Matt had picked up the boards, tucking them under his arm along with his heavy-looking case. ‘Let me carry these to your car.’

‘No, that’s okay. My car’s in the garage, so I’m on the bus.’ The way he’d picked her things up, without asking, had put her on edge. If she had needed any help she would have said so.

‘In that case, let me give you a lift home. Where do you live?’

He gave her a ‘don’t argue’ look and Beth wondered how many people in Matt’s life contested his decisions. Probably not that many. ‘Easington. The bus goes from the hospital grounds practically to my door.’

‘And we go past Easington and can drop you off right at your door. Jack, pick Beth’s gloves up and bring them along.’ Beth looked down to where her gloves lay on the floor, realising that she must have dropped them out of her coat pocket. Before she could retrieve them, Jack had pounced on them and was rolling them up in the end of his father’s dark blue scarf.

She might have had few scruples about arguing with Matt, however lofty his position, but Jack was a different matter. From the smug look on Matt’s face he had obviously been banking on that very fact and was pleased to have been proved right. Beth swallowed her reservations, locked the doors of the hearing therapy unit and followed the two of them to the staff car park.

It was already dark and sleet was bouncing off the windscreen of the car. Out of the shelter of the city, the roads were thick with ice and Beth began to be thankful that she wasn’t waiting at a windy bus stop or sitting on a bus as it wound its way around all the neighbouring villages before finally reaching her own.

She’d be home soon. Safe and sound in the protective cocoon she’d made for herself after Pete had left. And Matt Sutherland would be driving away, taking his disturbing smile with him, along with all the reactions it provoked in her.

Without thinking, she brushed his arm to get his attention. The gesture, so automatic among the deaf, seemed suddenly too intimate and she snatched her hand away. ‘Turn left here. There’s a row of cottages a little way down. Mine’s the one at the far end.’

She was scrabbling for the doorhandle almost as soon as he drew up. He turned the engine off with a decisive motion and went to get out of the car. ‘Stay put, Jack, I’ve just got to talk to Beth for a moment.’

What now? She shivered impatiently in the cold night air as Matt retrieved her display boards from the boot, propping them up against the wheel arch instead of giving them straight to her.

‘Jack doesn’t talk much about his mother,’ he started stiffly. ‘I heard you talking with him and wanted to thank you.’

So he had heard. Beth licked her lips nervously. ‘I didn’t mean to pry into your business.’

‘You didn’t. Jack has every right to say whatever he likes to whoever he likes, he doesn’t need my permission. He doesn’t do it enough.’

‘I’m glad he felt he could talk about her today, then. I really did enjoy spending the afternoon with him, he’s a great kid.’

He nodded. ‘I … I hope we’ll see you again. It would be nice if you could join us for lunch some time. As a thank you. You’ve given him a way to express his feelings, and I’m truly grateful for that.’ She was pretty sure he had that engaging smile on his face again. Out here in the darkness it was difficult to tell.

‘Sometimes things that can’t be said one way can be said in another.’ Beth ignored Matt’s invitation and concentrated on Jack. ‘I’ve got some wall charts that show the finger-spelling alphabet and some simple signs. If he’d like one, I can drop it in to Phyllis next week some time.’ That seemed safe enough.

His voice warmed with enthusiasm. ‘Thank you, I’d really appreciate that. It won’t do him any harm to learn another language and …’ He was suddenly lost for words.

‘I know. Anything that gives him a voice. I understand, I used to do the same thing myself when I was little. All my secrets were signed.’ Apart from the one she’d told Jack. Beth flushed. If he’d heard that then no wonder he hadn’t taken her refusal of his offer of a lift too seriously.

He grinned and then the smile slid from his face. He was looking intently over her shoulder and Beth turned to face her cottage.

‘Do you leave a light on when you’re out?’

Through the front window she could see a light, glimmering unsteadily inside the house. As she strained to see where it was coming from the porch light flickered on and back off again as if it was trying to signal something. Her hand flew to her mouth as she caught her breath.

‘Obviously not. Give me your keys, I’ll go and take a look. It’s probably an electrical fault of some sort.’

‘Thanks, but I think I can manage to avoid sticking my fingers into any dodgy light sockets. I can handle it.’

‘I dare say you can. But if someone’s broken in and they’re still there you’re not handling that alone. I’ll just go and make sure.’

‘Perhaps—’

He gave a little huff of impatience. ‘Perhaps nothing. Here.’ He grabbed her hand and put his keys into it. ‘Stay in the car and if I’m not back in five, you drive to the nearest police station. Please—someone needs to look after Jack.’

His final words were tacked on almost as an afterthought, but the command in his tone had slipped away. Beth followed his gaze to the back seat of the car where Jack was twisting around fretfully, trying to get out of his seat belt.

She pulled her keys out of her bag and pushed them into his hand, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. Matt shut the door behind her, indicating with his thumb that she should lock the doors, before turning and heading up her front path.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE shouldn’t have let him go. Now that she was alone here in the car with Jack, there wasn’t much she could do about it, though. She kept up a steady stream of conversation with Jack, at the same time straining to see as Matt swept the beam of the torch over the front door and the windows, looking for signs of forced entry before letting himself in. The torch beam flicked back and forth in the hallway, then in her tiny front room and then disappeared.

What if there was someone in there? What if they hurt him? Matt was tall and imposing but if there was more than one intruder they might get the better of him. She squinted at her watch in the darkness. Had he really only been gone for three minutes?

Tears of relief pricked at the side of her eyes as she saw him hurry down the front path. Motioning to her to unlock the car doors, he slid into the passenger seat. ‘Looks as if you have a burst pipe. Do you know where the stopcock is? And the fusebox?’ He gestured back at the porch, where the light was still flickering on and off. ‘If that light is anything to go by, the water’s got into the electrics.’

Of course she knew where they were—what did he take her for? Beth bit back her annoyance and remembered that just a few seconds ago she had been glad to see him emerge from the cottage in one piece. ‘Under the stairs, in a little cupboard. Both the stopcock and the fusebox.’

He got out of the car without a word and was on his way back up the front path before she had the opportunity to tell him that she was perfectly capable of turning the water off and mopping up a few spills.

Matt let himself back into the cottage and dodged the curtain of water falling down the stairwell. His feet squelched on the hall carpet and by the light of the torch he could see that the wallpaper was beginning to peel. Finding the hall cupboard, he twisted the stopcock and flipped the mains electrical switch to off. Then he opened a door at the end of the hallway, figuring correctly that it led to the kitchen, and made for the sink. Turning both taps on, he let the water run, hoping that the water tank in the loft would drain quickly.

He knew that the longer he stayed there, the more Beth would be worrying and that he should get back to her. He didn’t want her to have to see the cascade of water that had greeted him when he first entered, though. The place was enough of a mess, without that. Matt heard a gurgle as the tank finally drained and turned off the kitchen taps as the water coming through the ceiling slowed to a steady dribble.

He trudged back to the car and knocked on the window. She turned, a brittle smile on her face, and the electric window whirred downwards. ‘Can I help you?’

She was tough. Not many people would have even attempted a joke in this situation. The reassuring smile that Matt had pasted onto his face warmed as respect washed through him. ‘Yeah. I was wondering if you might like to swap that six-year-old you have there for a cottage. It’s a little wet at the moment, but it’s basically sound.’

She pretended to think about it for a moment. ‘Okay, you’ve got a deal.’ The central locking on the car sounded and she climbed out, waiting while Matt unbuckled Jack’s seat belt and chivvied him out of his booster seat.

He had half expected her to run straight into the house, but she was standing stock still, searching his face in the dim light. ‘It’s not …’ Matt shrugged and handed her the flashlight. ‘You’ll be wanting to see for yourself, won’t you?’

‘Yes. Thanks.’ Her smile was beginning to wear a little thin at the edges, and he caught her cold hand in his and led her up the front path.

Beth stood in the hallway, cold water creeping into her shoes, and watched as a piece of the wallpaper she had hung so carefully just a few weeks ago peeled slowly off the wall and landed on the carpet in a sodden mass. Smile. The words of the old song that her grandmother used to sign with her echoed in her head and she gave it her best shot.

‘Perhaps that wallpaper was a bit much for a small hallway.’

Matt tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. ‘Yeah. Perhaps.’ He’d picked Jack up so that his feet didn’t get wet, and had him safe and secure in his arms.

‘At least I’ve got the hang of it now. Putting something else up will be easy. And the insurance will cover it.’ She was babbling, trying to make out that everything was okay when it wasn’t. She went to sit down on the stairs, and then jumped back to her feet as she realised the stair carpet was as wet as everything else.

‘It’s more than just the money, though, isn’t it?’ His quiet comment cut through all her pretence of being able to cope with this.

‘Yes. I’ve only been here for eight months. It was … it is the first time I’ve had a place of my own. I did everything myself.’ It had almost been a point of honour. Beth had wanted to show everyone, herself included, that she could manage her life on her own terms after Pete had left her.

‘Then I’ll bet you’ve already done plenty of things that seemed impossible at first. The initial shock is always the worst.’

Was he really so sure about that? ‘I could kick myself. You know, I’ve never even been up in the loft to look at the water tank or the pipes. The surveyor said they were okay and I just took his word for it. Maybe if I’d ….’ She tailed off before her tears choked her. It was already too late to mend the damage that had been done to her dream. Everyone who had ever said that she couldn’t fend for herself had just been proved right. And she’d proved it with her own stupid negligence.

‘It’s not your fault.’ His tone was gentle but firm. How did someone get to be that sure about life?

The belief that she could cope with whatever life threw at her had just been unceremoniously ripped away, leaving her naked and shivery. And even though he was saying all the right things, Matt’s solid dependability wasn’t helping. The temptation to look as pathetic as she felt and cling to him was too much to bear.

Beth straightened herself, ignoring the handstands her stomach was doing, and swung the torch beam up from the carpet, trying to inspect the damage calmly. ‘I can do this.’

‘Yes, you can. It’s a bit of a mess right now, but this is the worst of it. The water’s off now and I’ve drained the tank.’

Thanks for reminding me. It was Matt who’d had the presence of mind to do that straight away, not her. Beth turned away from him, wiping her face with the sleeve of her coat.

‘The back room isn’t so bad,’ he continued. ‘It’s worst in the hall and the sitting room.’

Beth nodded, trying not to start crying again and feeling the tears trickle down her cheek anyway. What the hell—a few tears weren’t going to make this place any wetter.

‘Come and take a look.’ He took her hand, holding it tight, and guided her to the small dining room, which lay behind the sitting room. She could see a few dribbles of water running down the walls but the carpet was dry to her touch and the furniture looked undamaged.

This wasn’t so bad. ‘Thank you for helping out. I’ll be okay now.’ She wanted him to go before his reassurance became completely indispensable. Then she could inspect the damage, have a good cry and work out what she was going to do next.

‘No, you won’t.’ Jack lay motionless against his shoulder, obviously tired and bored. ‘You’ll freeze in this weather with no heating and in a wet house. If you want to stay with a friend then I’ll take you wherever you need to go, but I live five miles down the road and I have a spare bedroom that’s warm and dry. Come and stay with us tonight. There’s nothing more that we can do until tomorrow.’

Beth stared at him. Warm and dry sounded like heaven at the moment, but she couldn’t. She would rather be here, however uncomfortable it was. ‘I’m fine, really.’

Matt gave a little gesture of impatience, and Jack stirred in his arms. ‘No, you’re not fine. And you most certainly won’t be fine tomorrow if you spend the night here.’ He gestured up and to the front of the house. ‘If your bedroom’s above the sitting room, then it’s going to be wet through. It’s already below freezing outside and you’ve no heating.’

Cold disappointment dripped into Beth’s heart. He was right, of course, but she still didn’t want to admit that she was reliant on the hospitality of a virtual stranger. She stared at Matt, unable to think of anything to say that sounded even vaguely rational.

‘Are there any friends or family close by that you can call?’

Beth shook her head. ‘On any other evening I’d call Marcie. But it’s her wedding anniversary tonight and she’s been planning it for weeks. And my parents are away in America, visiting my younger brother.’ She could probably make it down to Charlie’s place in London before midnight, but if she did he’d still be reminding her about this in thirty years’ time.

‘So come back to our place. The hospital’s vetted me, so the chances of me not being an axe murderer are pretty much in your favour.’ The veneer slipped and an irresistible grin broke through. ‘And my son will vouch for me.’ Jack was dozing fitfully now and didn’t seem disposed to vouch for anyone at the moment. ‘When he wakes up, that is.’

Beth’s resolve wavered. The heat of Matt’s smile was about the only thing around here that was much above freezing. ‘I don’t suppose that anywhere I want to go includes a hotel, does it? There’s one a few miles down the road.’

‘Right in one. No hotels.’

If she was going to take him up on his offer, she may as well do it gracefully. Beth smiled up at him and saw a glimmer in his dark blue eyes that looked suspiciously like triumph. ‘Then your spare bedroom sounds like a lifesaver. It’s very kind of you, thank you.’

Matt had left Jack curled up in a chair in the dining room while he had helped her wipe the puddles from the few good pieces of furniture she had and prop them up off the soaked carpets. The sofa cushions had been arranged on their ends around the sitting room so they could drain a little and he had rolled up the old rug, which was completely beyond saving, and dumped it in the back garden.

She had drawn the line at letting him into her bedroom but after seeing the waterlogged state of her bed had reluctantly called him to help her tip the mattress on one side against the wall. They had gathered up her soaking quilt and some of her clothes and put them into plastic bags in the boot of Matt’s car and Beth had picked up her photo albums and her jewellery box and tucked them away on the back seat. Almost as an afterthought she had fetched her laptop, which seemed to have survived the deluge, and had found that Matt had picked up her textphone and was carefully wiping it dry.

With one load of clothes in the washing machine and another in the dryer, Beth finally allowed herself to relax into the sofa in front of the open fire at Matt’s, watching the logs sizzle and spit as heat drove the moisture from them. Jack had claimed a place next to her and Matt had prepared soup with French bread for them all.

‘That was nice. Must be home-made, it’s got chunky bits.’

‘My mother makes it. My parents live close by and she delivers it by the gallon and puts it in the freezer.’ Matt was sitting on an easy chair, drawn up by the fire, inspecting her textphone. He had changed into jeans and a sweater and his short fair hair was dishevelled from where he had been running his hand through it, making him look even more like a grown-up version of the child that was currently dozing in her arms.

Beth tried not to look at his hands as his long fingers set to work, teasing the back off her phone. Capable hands, which looked as if they could be as gentle as they were precise. He wore no wedding ring and she wondered whether he had done once.

‘So you grew up around here?’

‘Yes. You?’

‘London.’ Beth tucked her legs under her on the sofa, letting Jack slide into her lap, feeling herself relax in the heat from the fire. ‘My family’s pretty scattered now, though. My parents moved down to the South Coast when Dad retired and my younger brother’s in the States. He’s a member of a Deaf Theatre Company over there.’

‘Sounds interesting. What does he do?’

‘He’s an actor. They’re based in New York but they take their productions all over the country. He loves it.’

‘The pull of an audience can be very seductive.’ There was an edge to Matt’s voice.

‘Oh, Nathan’s got his priorities right. He’s just married a really nice girl—she keeps him grounded.’

‘Smart guy.’ The bitterness in Matt’s tone was unmistakable now and he changed the subject quickly. ‘Are your parents deaf as well?’

‘My father is. Mum’s hearing.’ Beth took a deep breath. She may as well say it. She was proud of who she was and was damned if she was going to hide it as if it were some kind of embarrassing secret. ‘I have autosomal dominant deafness. That means …’

He silenced her with an amused look. ‘I know. One dominant gene, inherited from your father, and not a recessive gene inherited from each parent.’

Of course he knew. Genetics 101. ‘Yes. Mum and Dad knew pretty much what to expect when they had children. With the dominant gene there was always going to be a fifty-fifty chance of each of us being deaf.’ Her throat constricted suddenly as if she was being choked.

‘But your mother saw past that.’

‘Yeah. Just as well for me and my brothers.’ Pete hadn’t. Neither had his mother, who had already persuaded him that he was perfect and didn’t have much difficulty convincing him that his children should be, too.

Beth looked down at the child dozing in her lap. She was surrounded by all the things that Pete had promised her and then reneged on. All the things she had sworn she wouldn’t think about any more. She began to feel sick again.

‘Are you okay?’ Beth focused back on Matt with an effort of will and saw concern in his face. ‘You look very pale.’

‘Yes, fine.’

‘Sure you don’t feel dizzy? Or hot and cold?’

‘No. Neither.’ The room had stopped lurching now, and the heat from the fire was warming her again.

‘Nausea?’

‘No.’ The feeling had passed and Matt’s obvious frustration at her lack of symptoms was making her feel much better.

‘May I take your pulse?’

‘I’ll do it.’ Beth wasn’t sure if her heart really did beat twice as fast whenever he touched her but she wasn’t taking any chances. She counted off the beats against the second hand of the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Dead on sixty.’

‘Hmm. Very good. Excellent, in fact. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’m not in shock.’

‘You probably are, very slightly. Anyone would be after tonight.’ He sighed and gave up. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in offering you a non-medicinal drop of brandy.’

Beth giggled. The way this man could take her from the depths of depression back to laughter in a matter of minutes was frightening. ‘That sounds more like it. Thanks, just a splash.’

He rose and opened the glass door of a cabinet fitted in the alcove beside the chimney breast, withdrawing two cut-glass tumblers and a brandy bottle. Pouring a couple of mouthfuls into each, he placed one next to her and returned to his seat with the other. Jack stirred, reaching out for her, and Beth coiled her arm back around him. Tipping her glass towards Matt in a silent toast, she took a sip of the brandy and settled back against the cushions. Crisis over.

It made Matt smile, seeing the two of them like this on the sofa, Jack curled up in Beth’s arms, sleeping peacefully. Her eyes were luminous in the firelight and she looked even smaller, even more fine-boned in the rolled-up jogging pants and sweatshirt he had lent her.

He picked up the textphone, which lay beside his chair, and finally managed to prise the cover free. Water dribbled out over his jeans and he brushed it away, sending the drops fizzing into the fire.

Looking up, he realised that she had been watching him and heat started to build in his chest. The thought of her eyes on his hands, his lips, became almost too much to bear and he smiled awkwardly.

‘We’ll leave this open to dry out overnight and try it in the morning. It should be all right.’ It seemed so natural to say we and he liked the fact that she gave the slightest of nods in response, as if she, too, accepted that for tonight at least they were a single unit. For the moment, anyway, she seemed to have abandoned her stubborn independence, melting into the small family by the fireside, somehow making both him and Jack whole again.

She was sipping the small portion of brandy he had allowed her, watching as he laid the phone out to dry by the hearth. ‘So how’s Jack settling in?’

‘It’s early days but he seems to be doing well. He loves being near my parents and his new school is great. I think it’s made a big difference, getting away from the old house. He sleeps a lot better now.’

‘That’s good. A decent night’s sleep always helps you face the day.’

‘Yeah. I used to get up in the middle of the night and find him sitting downstairs, waiting for his mother to come home.’ Matt pressed his lips together. Jack had done that regularly before his mother had died, as well as after.

Her fingers tightened around Jack’s shoulders, as if she wanted to pull him close and hug him but was afraid of waking him. ‘Well, he seems to be ready to talk a little about how he feels. It was a privilege to be there this afternoon.’

‘I’m thankful that you were.’ Matt could see why Jack had opened up to Beth. It was hard not to. But there were things he would never tell anyone, not even if Beth taught him the signs for them.

‘Jack said his mother died in a car accident. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that when I brought him down to see you this afternoon. It must have been a shock to hear that he’d almost been knocked down.’ She twisted her fingers together.

Matt’s heart felt as if it was actually melting. The sensation was an odd one and not entirely pleasant. ‘Thank you, but it’s okay.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of reassurance. ‘He was there with you and I could see he was all right. And my wife wasn’t knocked down by a car. She’d been working away from home for a week and was driving back to London on the Friday evening when her car skidded on a patch of ice on the motorway.’

Beth’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry. That she never got home.’

She hadn’t been on her way home. She’d been on her way to a hotel, with her lover. Matt swallowed the truth, but couldn’t bring himself to offer up the usual lie. ‘Thank you.’ He opted for a brisk change of subject. ‘It’s getting late. I’d better get this little guy up to bed.’ He rose and lifted the sleeping boy out of Beth’s arms, briefly scenting her hair before he managed to put some space between them again.

Jack stirred and rubbed his eyes. ‘Story, Dad.’

‘You bet. Let’s get you upstairs and we’ll have a story there.’

‘Why not down here?’ Matt knew what Jack was angling for. He wanted Beth to tell him a story.

‘No, mate.’ He retrieved the copy of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men from where Jack had dumped it that morning and tucked it against his chest. ‘Beth probably doesn’t like Robin Hood.’

He could see from her face that she wouldn’t have minded reading Jack’s bedtime story one little bit. He minded, though. Having Beth read to Jack, when his mother had made so little effort to be home in time to do so, would have been like rubbing salt into open wounds.

‘Okay. Just you and me, Dad. The two musketeers.’ Jack snuggled into his chest and the familiar, overpowering need to protect him surged through Matt. He couldn’t risk the possibility of his son going through the pain of abandonment for a second time. He couldn’t take the risk for himself either. As far as Beth was concerned, friendship wasn’t just the best option, it was the only option.

Regret hung in the air for a brief moment, before dispersing under the relentless pressure of his resolve. As if to prove to himself that he could do it, Matt wrenched his gaze away from Beth and then turned, making for the stairs.

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