‘Dr Craven, you’re needed in Resus One,’ the nurse said. ‘Patient just admitted…young child…rescued from a house fire…extensive burns to his legs. Jack Harvey is in charge.’

Anna put on a sterile gown and walked briskly into the resuscitation room.

Jack looked up. Once again he experienced a chilling moment as the woman who so resembled his late wife walked into the room.

‘Glad to have your assistance, Dr Craven,’ he said, keeping his voice on an even keel even though his heartbeat had gone into overdrive. He’d get used to it, he told himself, working with her on a daily basis—and the shock waves would become less each time they met. Or maybe not…because these particular shock waves were becoming very pleasurable, he had to admit.

‘We’re prepping this young patient for a transfusion,’ he told her. ‘The burns are so bad that he needs blood as soon as possible or there’s a good chance he’ll die of shock.’

At that moment the monitors surrounding the boy began to bleep erratically. ‘Get the defibrillator here,’ Jack shouted. ‘He’s arrested!’

Barbara Hart was born in Lancashire and educated at a convent in Wales. At twenty-one she moved to New York, where she worked as an advertising copy writer. After two years in the USA she returned to England to become a television press officer in charge of publicising a top soap opera and a leading current affairs programme. She gave up her job to write novels. She lives in Cheshire and is married to a solicitor. They have two grown-up sons.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE DOCTOR’S LOVE-CHILD

ENGAGING DR DRISCOLL

The Emergency Specialist

Barbara Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER ONE

IT HAD been a hard morning’s work at the Royal’s accident and emergency department. During a lull in dealing with patients, duty registrar Anna Craven told her colleagues that she was taking a short lunch-break.

‘If I don’t get something to eat in the next three minutes I’ll pass out on the floor,’ she said, walking in the direction of the staff canteen.

She grabbed a sandwich and a can of lemonade and went to sit by herself at a table in the far corner, away from the main seating area which always seemed to be crowded and noisy. She liked to spend the rare moments away from A and E in as tranquil an area as possible. Often, if the canteen was busier than usual, she’d take her sandwiches out to her car and sit there in solitude, the car radio tuned in to a classical station.

Friends and colleagues often remarked on how serene Anna always looked. With her smooth blonde hair, her pale green eyes and her delicate bone structure, she appeared to all the world to be the very embodiment of calmness. How deceptive appearances could be! The outer calm took a lot of working on and quite frequently hid inner turmoil underneath.

Anna had two sisters and both of them were just the opposite of her. They even looked different. Instead of straight blonde hair, Rebecca and Jennifer had naturally curly raven locks. And whereas Anna was diplomatic, her sisters were extremely outspoken to the point of rudeness, saying exactly what they thought without a care in the world that they might hurt anybody’s feelings.

‘I suppose you’re the way you are because you’re the middle child,’ Rebecca had said. ‘I’m the eldest and the bossy one. Jenny, being the youngest, is the spoiled brat…and you’re the poor child caught in the middle. Either that or you were potty-trained too early!’

Rebecca and Jennifer were both married…happily married, Anna presumed, although sometimes she did wonder, the way they constantly grumbled about their spouses and their children, each sister trying to outdo the other with awful stories. One thing was for sure— they were desperately keen that Anna should get married and then she’d be ‘just like us’. It seemed to annoy them immensely that while they were stuck at home with young families, their footloose and fancy-free sister was, they imagined, living the life of Riley as a single ‘career girl’.

‘I bet you’d soon lose your composure if you’d got three kids under four playing merry hell all day,’ suggested Rebecca, unable to comprehend how anyone could stay as calm and unflappable as Anna.

Anna’s outward composure confused others, particularly men. Deep inside her, she knew she was a passionate, fervent human being, capable of deep, heartfelt emotions. She also had a lively mind and a good sense of humour, appreciating wit more than slapstick. But she found it difficult, embarrassing even, to make a public display of her feelings.

Even now, when she was feeling utterly wretched because of Liam, she couldn’t bring herself to confide in anyone. Telling her colleagues was just asking to get talked about by the gossip-mongers, and sharing her misery with her sisters would only have served to increase the pain instead of halving it. No, the loss of Liam was something she’d have to cope with on her own, hiding it under a guise of tight-lipped tranquillity. Liam, who had taken her love and tossed it aside without even realising what he’d done. Liam, whom she’d fallen in love with and whom she’d thought had fallen in love with her. But that was the problem with being cool and serene on the outside…it often sent out the wrong message. It made people believe that you were hard and indifferent to personal pain.

‘No commitments,’ he’d said from time to time during their six months together, his eyes smiling at her, always smiling. ‘We’re having a great time, aren’t we?’ And he’d laughed charmingly. He was the most charming man she’d ever met. She realised with hindsight that his charm meant nothing. It was unintentional and came as naturally to him as breathing. Easy come, easy go. He had probably no idea, not even now, that he’d hurt her almost more than she’d been able to bear.

‘You mustn’t take me seriously,’ he’d warned her. But she had. She’d taken him very seriously. And when, only two weeks ago, Rebecca had said once again, ‘You really should get married, Anna,’ she’d almost told her that she was seeing Liam and that maybe marriage was on the cards.

She was so glad that she hadn’t told either of her sisters about Liam. Knowing Rebecca and Jennifer, they would have booked the church and the reception and arranged between themselves which of their various children should be bridesmaids and pageboys! She thanked her stars she hadn’t mentioned him to them because only a few days later Liam had confessed to her that he was seeing someone else. The news had come as a tremendous shock.

‘But we weren’t serious, were we? We had a good laugh, didn’t we?’ he’d said. At least he’d had the decency to look embarrassed at his bad behaviour. ‘We can still be friends, can’t we?’

It had been at that point she’d been grateful for her cool exterior. With her heart pounding like mad, her stomach churning so much that she’d felt sick, she’d still been able to give him a half-smile as she’d said, ‘No, Liam. I’m afraid we can’t.’

* * *

Anna finished her lunch and left the canteen. With her mind still on Liam and the pain he had so carelessly inflicted on her, she made her way back to A and E. She was preoccupied with thoughts of her broken romance when she became aware of the sound of quickening footsteps behind her. She stepped to one side, thinking that somebody might want to get past in a hurry. Then a man said, ‘Anneka?’ Looking round, she saw that the man, a medic she presumed from his theatre blues, was talking to her.

‘Are you speaking to me?’ she asked.

She found herself looking into the brown eyes of a man she’d never seen before, though that was hardly surprising in a hospital the size of the Royal. He was tall and dark-haired, and good-looking. Even under his theatre garb she could see that his shoulders were wide and powerful, his body lean and tapering. His skin was slightly bronzed as if he’d just returned from a holiday abroad. But underneath the tan he looked pale…a very strange illusion, thought Anna. She’d seen it before in patients who were in shock. All the colour drained from their faces, but a little of the tan remained.

The man stood stock still, staring at her. He said nothing, just stared at her. She felt herself shiver under his gaze.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You just reminded me of someone else.’ He appeared embarrassed by his gaffe.

To smooth things over, she gave him a brief smile, saying, ‘My name’s Anna. I thought at first that you’d just got my name wrong. Is it someone called Anneka you’re looking for?’

The man half turned away, not rudely. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, walking back down the corridor. ‘I’m supposed to be in Theatre. Sorry to have bothered you.’

Anna shrugged her shoulders and continued on her way.

* * *

The rest of the day was just as hectic as the morning had been.

A young boy who’d broken his arm in two places was X-rayed and his arm set in plaster. He was sent home with an ‘I Was Brave’ sticker on his shirt and a prescription for child analgesic. A pregnant woman with stomach pains and white with fear that she would lose her baby was examined, given tests and then admitted to a ward for observation. There were two drunks and a drug addict, a man with toothache and a middle-aged woman who’d injured herself during an epileptic fit. They were arriving in a steady trickle on foot, by car and by ambulance.

‘We’ve got a stabbing coming in now,’ said the sister in charge of the day team as she ran to the ambulance entrance.

A surgeon and an operating department assistant had been bleeped but they hadn’t yet arrived. Two radiographers, three nurses and Anna were waiting in one of the resuscitation wards.

When the patient arrived, his clothes covered in blood, he was raving and abusive but otherwise cooperative.

‘I’ll kill the bastards who did this,’ he shouted, his voice slurred with drink and pain. ‘I thought they were going to hit me with a bottle but they stabbed me instead. In the bloody back! The cowardly bastards!’

‘Roll him over,’ instructed Anna in order that the team could examine the injury. Above their heads the incident clock logged the seconds.

After an initial examination, the radiographers X-rayed him and a nurse monitored his blood pressure.

‘Here comes the surgery team,’ said the sister in charge. Anna looked round briefly and saw that the surgeon walking towards them and their blood-soaked patient was the man who’d come running after her in the corridor earlier that day, calling her ‘Anneka’.

‘Hello again,’ she said. ‘I’m Anna Craven, the duty registrar.’

‘Jack Harvey,’ he replied in acknowledgement, ‘the new casualty consultant.’ He smiled at her and nodded to the rest of the team.

Anna told him the patient’s history and said they were now waiting for the X-rays to come back. They arrived almost as she spoke and Anna and Jack studied them.

‘His chest cavity is filling with blood,’ said Jack. ‘His lungs will be getting squashed and he’ll have difficulty in breathing if we don’t drain it straight away.’

The team worked swiftly and efficiently, draining the patient’s chest and stemming the blood flow from the stab wound. It took them less than thirty minutes to stabilise his condition and get him out of immediate danger.

During the time they worked together, Anna noticed that Jack kept looking at her—not in a blatantly sexual way—but more out of curiosity. She couldn’t help noticing him either. He really was very good-looking. He reminded her in some ways of Liam— but whereas Liam had pale blue eyes, Jack’s were a warm brown.

When the surgeon and his operating assistant had left, taking the wounded patient with them, one of the nurses said to Anna, ‘He’s a bit of a dish, isn’t he?’

‘You mean our stab victim? A bit too heavy-jowled for me,’ said Anna, deliberately misunderstanding.

‘Not him! I mean Mr Handsome, the new casualty consultant.’

‘Handsome is as handsome does,’ replied Anna, smiling through gritted teeth, adding, ‘I’m right off good-looking men at the moment. In fact, I’m off all men, full stop.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ said the nurse. ‘They’re all pigs, aren’t they?’

* * *

At the end of her shift, Anna changed out of the theatre blues worn by all the doctors and nurses in A and E and into her own clothes.

She was walking to her car when, for the second time that day, she heard someone running towards her. And again it was Jack Harvey.

‘Anna!’ he said, calling to her from several metres away.

A prickle of irritation went through her. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, not to him or anyone. She just wanted to get home to the safe haven of her small apartment and continue the healing process on her own. The hurt inflicted by Liam was still very raw and it was going to take longer than a couple of weeks to heal. For that she needed to be by herself. Solitary confinement had a lot going for it, she decided. By the time Jack had reached her she’d taken out her car key and was fitting it in the lock, ready for a quick getaway.

‘Anna,’ he said again when he reached her. He was slightly breathless, having sprinted at top speed across the full length of the car park.

‘At least you’ve got my name right this time!’ she joked through clenched teeth.

He took a deep breath. ‘Will you come out for a drink with me?’ he asked, the words tumbling out all at once.

‘What? Now?’ She tried to keep the irritation from her voice.

He nodded.

The nerve of the man! The nerve of all handsome men! They just think they can snap their fingers and you’ll come running.

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘got things to do.’

She opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

‘Another night, then?’ he persisted, leaning into the car. ‘Perhaps we could have a meal?’ He looked so intense, so appealing and little-boy-lost that Anna almost weakened.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to take no for an answer, Jack,’ she said pleasantly but firmly, her cool, serene looks emphasising that she really did mean no.

‘Look,’ he said, putting a gentle hand on her arm and fixing her with penetrating eyes, ‘you don’t understand. I’m in a bit of a state of shock right now. I’ve been in shock since I saw you coming out of the canteen earlier today. You see, you reminded me so much of someone else. That’s why I looked as if I’d seen a ghost.’

He was persistent all right, thought Anna. But although she wasn’t going to let him bamboozle her into a date, she was becoming a little curious about him.

‘You called me Anneka,’ she said. As she spoke the name she noticed that he flinched slightly as if she’d hit him. ‘Is that who I look like? Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?’

He stood stock still for a moment. ‘Anneka was my wife,’ he said quietly. ‘She died three years ago.’

Anna was now the one who felt as if she’d been struck.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ She kept her cool exterior but inside she was cringing because of the flippant way she’d been treating him, imagining that he was just trying to pick her up.

‘I’ve seen blonde women who looked a little like her,’ he said, ‘but until today I’ve never met anyone who could have been her double. It gave me a very nasty turn. I thought I was starting to hallucinate.’ He laughed a hollow laugh.

The haunting look of pain on his face won her over. ‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ she said. ‘I really can’t make it tonight, but I probably can tomorrow. Just for a quick drink.’

His face lost its tension and he smiled almost with relief.

‘Thanks,’ he said, before turning and walking away.

She drove home pensively. For the first time in two weeks her mind, outside working hours, was not on Liam and her broken heart. Jack’s loss had put her own pain in perspective. When Liam had left her it had felt almost like a bereavement. But, of course, she knew it wasn’t really like someone dying because that was so final, so sad. It had been three years, he’d said, since his wife’s death and still Jack had the mark of pain and suffering imprinted on his face. If seeing someone who looked like your dead wife had the power to make you react in such an obsessive and compelling manner after three years, how long was it going to take the poor man to finally get over his loss?

In some perverse way she found Jack’s situation faintly reassuring. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to be pining after Liam in three years’ time. Maybe solitary confinement wasn’t the complete answer for her. Perhaps going out with Jack could be another way of helping her in her own healing process?

* * *

The following evening, after they’d both finished their day shifts, they went out for a drink. Anna had come into work on the bus that morning, knowing that she would be given a lift home. Jack, although he’d only recently joined the Royal as the new casualty surgeon, was not a stranger to the area and he knew several pubs within a few miles of the hospital. He drove to one of the quieter inns, playing a classical music tape as they drove along.

‘That’s nice,’ she said conversationally. ‘It’s one of my favourites.’

He parked the car and turned off the engine.

‘I know all the drinking dives round here from my days as a medical student,’ he said as they got out of the car and walked towards the pub. ‘This one didn’t come high on our list. We used to head for the pubs with loud music, cheap beer and greasy food!’

Anna raised her eyebrows in alarm.

‘Don’t worry, this one’s just the opposite. No piped music, real ale and decent food,’ he reassured her.

‘But this is only for a drink?’ asked Anna, checking that he wasn’t trying to make it more of a date than she’d intended. She’d only agreed to go out with him because he’d mentioned that he’d lost his wife. For the foreseeable future she wasn’t planning on dating anyone…she was too bruised emotionally even to consider it.

‘Just a quick drink,’ he confirmed, adding with an amused grin, ‘I’m not going to press-gang you into a romantic candlelit dinner.’

He chose a secluded corner for them and then went to the bar to get their drinks. A few minutes later he returned with two glasses.

‘One white wine,’ he said, putting the glass of chilled Chardonnay on the small, marble-topped table alongside his pint.

‘Cheers!’ they said in unison.

Jack watched her like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her even as he took a long swig of his beer. She found his scrutiny unnerving.

‘So,’ she said lightly, ‘you’re no stranger to this area?’

‘No. But I don’t remember too much about it, if I’m being frank. After all, I was a student and I was working very long hours. But the area does have happy memories for me. That’s one reason I applied for this surgical post when I saw it advertised.’

This area used to have happy memories for me, too, brooded Anna, but at that moment she couldn’t think of a single one. The break-up with Liam seemed to have obliterated every happy memory she’d ever had.

‘So tell me about yourself,’ he asked. ‘Are you from round here?’

Anna had been dreading this from the moment she’d agreed to go out with him for a drink. She hated being cross-examined about her personal life at the best of times, and she hated it even more now—at the worst of times.

‘Oh, you don’t want to hear about me,’ she said, giving him a smile that she hoped came across as genuine. ‘Tell me more about yourself. I’m sure that’s much more interesting. Tell me about those happy memories.’

He didn’t answer immediately, fixing her with one of his penetrating looks. Then, slowly, he smiled, his face lighting up as his eyes seemed to caress her face, her hair, her shoulders.

‘You really are so like her,’ he murmured almost in a whisper. Then he shook his head as if to bring himself back to the present moment.

‘I was a medical student here, as I’ve already told you. And even though it was extremely hard work and long hours, I still look back on those times as the happiest in my life. Mostly, I suppose, because that’s when I met Anneka. She was working as an au pair to a local family.’

‘How did you meet her?’ Anna asked gently, aware of the shaft of pain that had crossed his face.

‘She used to go out on her evenings off with two other Danish au pairs. They used to join in with the groups of students that congregated around the pubs and bars. I fell for her the moment I first saw her. I offered to buy her a drink and was stunned when all three of them said, ‘‘Yes, please,’’ and proceeded to order the most expensive cocktails from the flashy barman. I couldn’t afford to eat for the rest of that week! When I’d saved up a bit of cash I plucked up the courage to ask her out, making sure the other two were well out of earshot.’

‘Did you sometimes bring her here?’ asked Anna wondering if he’d deliberately chosen this particular pub to try and re-create his time with Anneka.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘She used to like the loud disco music and noisy student atmosphere of the other pubs…the ones I avoided tonight.’

‘She was a bit of a raver, was she?’ Anna asked, beginning to draw a picture in her mind of a woman with her own blonde-haired looks but with a totally different personality.

‘Weren’t we all?’ Jack laughed, casting his mind back to his mad student days. ‘She liked partying into the night—and almost got fired from her job because of it!’

‘Oh, dear,’ said Anna, deciding that she and his late wife would have had very little in common apart from the blonde hair.

Jack was still in the happy world of the past as he recalled the angry scene on the doorstep between Anneka and her employer when he’d taken her home in the early hours of the morning after a particularly riotous all-night party.

Anna and Jack had been in the pub less than an hour. Anna finished her wine and glanced at her watch.

‘I ought to be getting home soon,’ she said, hoping that he wouldn’t cross-examine her on why she needed to be leaving so soon. She hadn’t worked out a convincing answer and was relieved when he too said it was time he was on his way. It wasn’t that she found his company boring, far from it. There was something magnetic about him and, if she hadn’t been so traumatised by her recent break-up, she might have found herself falling for him.

They walked into the pub car park, saying very little, preoccupied with their own thoughts. When they were in the car he put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Then he switched it off. He turned towards her and put his arm round the back of her seat.

Oh, God, she thought, he’s going to kiss me.

Before she could make up her mind about how she was going to handle the situation, it turned out he wasn’t intent on kissing her at all—he was only trying to get at his mobile phone.

‘Would you mind if I made a quick phone call?’ he asked.

‘No, please do,’ she said, relief flooding over her. He was a gorgeous, handsome man, with a sexy voice, and no doubt most other women would have been delighted for him to kiss them, but not Anna. She was completely immune to his obvious charms…indeed, she was completely immune to any man’s charms. She must have a heart in there somewhere, but she felt as if it was made of stone.

Jack retrieved his mobile from a bag he’d placed behind her seat. He dialled a number which was answered almost immediately.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ he said. ‘I’m on my way home. Is there anything you need me to pick up from the shops on the way back?’

He paused while the person at the other end replied.

‘OK,’ he said, ‘just some yoghurts. Is strawberry still her favourite?’

Another pause.

‘Fine. See you in a few minutes.’ He ended the call and replaced the mobile in his bag.

Anna didn’t show any curiosity about the phone call. Her mind was elsewhere, conjuring up images of Liam, wondering what he was doing right now.

Jack started the car again. ‘I was just phoning my housekeeper,’ he explained. ‘Damn, I meant to ask her if Saskia was still awake. I like to see her before she goes to bed but it’s not always possible with my irregular hours of work.’

‘Saskia?’ Anna asked.

‘My daughter.’ Jack gave her a quick glance. ‘Didn’t I mention her? I suppose I was too busy boring you with stories of my misspent youth.’

Anna felt stung. ‘You didn’t bore me!’ Was her disinterest so obvious to him? And now, just as he was about to take her home, he mentioned that he had a child! She would have found that a much more interesting topic of conversation than hearing all about Anneka-the-party-girl.

‘Tell me about Saskia,’ coaxed Anna. ‘How old is she?’

‘Three. She had her birthday last week…we had a little tea-party for her.’

‘We?’ All of a sudden she was finding the conversation intriguing.

‘There was Christine, my housekeeper-cum-nanny, Saskia’s three little chums from nursery school and my parents, who came up from Cornwall. And I managed to make it through the whole party without getting called in to the hospital.’

‘Sounds fun, the party,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve got three nephews and two nieces and I adored helping out at their birthday parties when they were small… Oh, you turn left here and my road is immediately on the right,’ she instructed. ‘I live in the block of flats near the postbox.’

Jack followed her directions and pulled to a stop outside her flat. He ran his eyes over her but this time they had a softer look, not the unsettling scrutiny that he’d been giving her ever since they’d met.

‘Do you like children?’ he asked.

‘Very much,’ she replied, reaching for the doorhandle. ‘Anyway, Jack, thanks for the drink.’

He saw her to the front door and then walked back to his car.

‘See you at the hospital,’ he called to her retreating back.

* * *

Jack drove home via the supermarket and picked up the strawberry yoghurt. When he arrived at his house he was told that Saskia was already in bed and asleep. He’d been hoping that Christine might have kept her up after her bath, as she often did, so that he could see his daughter and put her to bed himself. He liked reading bedtime stories to her and asking what she’d done during the day. It was for him one of the highlights of the day.

‘I thought you’d probably be home late,’ said Christine, ‘with you going out with a colleague.’ He noted the hint of criticism in her voice.

He couldn’t remember whether he’d mentioned that it was a female work colleague—but from the disapproving way she was reacting he guessed that he must have let slip that it had been a woman he was meeting. Christine, wonderful nanny and housekeeper that she was, was also overly protective of her employer. She was always warning him about ‘unscrupulous women’—according to her, there were hordes of them who were just waiting to grab someone like him and trick him into marriage. If there were women throwing themselves at him, Jack had been too grief-stricken or too busy to notice. In fact, Anna Craven was the first woman he’d asked out since his wife died.

He went upstairs and crept into his daughter’s room. He could see in the soft glow from her nightlight that she was asleep. He knelt by the side of her small bed and moved the teddy bear that was pressed up against her chubby cheek. She stirred slightly before resuming her blissful slumber. Her rounded features were still those of a baby even though she proudly told everyone that she was a ‘big girl’ now that she was three.

He touched her golden hair, stroking it gently with his fingers. Her mother’s golden hair…the mother she’d never known.

‘Saskia,’ he whispered softly, ‘Sweet dreams, my darling.’

He gazed at her silently for several minutes, conscious of the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her breathing, watching over her like a guardian angel.

What a strange couple of days it had been! Days of such contrasting emotions. Yesterday, when he’d first seen Anna, the shock had almost felled him. He truly had thought he’d been starting to hallucinate…the pain he’d experienced had almost been physical in its intensity. Three years had been swept away in the blink of an eye when he’d come face to face with Anneka’s double. Anneka, his adored wife, taken from him so suddenly and so cruelly.

Jack sighed deeply. Thank goodness for work, he mused. It had given him something other than his bereavement to focus on. And, later that day, when he’d found himself working with Anna, he’d been able to put the whole episode in perspective. He now realised that, apart from the close physical resemblance, Dr Anna Craven was very different from his late wife. He was so glad she’d agreed to go out with him for a drink—especially as she was the only woman he’d found remotely attractive in the last three years. Asking her out tonight had helped him to get over yet another obstacle as he clawed his way back to emotional normality. It hadn’t been easy…to other men it would have been just a quick drink after work, but for Jack it had constantly brought back memories of happier times. There had been a time when he hadn’t been able to imagine ever wanting to go out with another woman—but today he’d desperately wanted Anna to come out with him. Furthermore, he’d found her attractive. Extremely attractive.

‘Welcome back to the land of the living,’ he murmured to himself, still gazing fondly at his daughter.

Then he kissed her softly on the forehead, placed the teddy bear at the end of the bed and let himself out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

CHAPTER TWO

THE following week, Anna changed from the day shift to the night shift. Although it played havoc with her sleep pattern, in some ways she preferred the night shift. The atmosphere in the hospital was completely different—a strange mixture of cosiness and danger.

During the long hours of the night shift, Anna was frequently reminded of why she’d chosen to specialise in A and E. It made her feel as if she was right in the centre of everything, with her finger on the pulse of life.

As she strode through the swing doors that led into the accident and emergency department, a small knot of tension formed in her stomach. It happened every time, particularly when she was on the night shift. She knew it would only be temporary and would disappear within a couple of minutes. It told her that the adrenalin rush had begun and that she was ready to swing into action without a moment’s delay.

She hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps when one of the nurses grabbed her.

‘Dr Craven, you’re needed in Resus One,’ she said. ‘Patient just admitted…young child…rescued from a house fire…extensive burns to his legs. Mr Harvey is in charge.’

She put on a sterile gown and walked briskly towards the resuscitation room. A light over the entrance was signalling a code blue. She quickened her pace. A code blue meant that a life-threatening crisis was on hand.

Resus One was a hive of activity. Several people in theatre blues and surgical gowns were circling the trolley and on it was the small, motionless figure of a child. The bottom half of his body was covered with the special wet dressings used for burns. Through the antiseptic-smelling air drifted another smell, the nauseating, never-to-be-forgotten smell of burnt flesh.

Jack looked up. Once again he experienced a chilling moment as the woman who so resembled his late wife walked into the resus room.

‘Glad to have your assistance, Dr Craven,’ he said, keeping his voice on an even keel, though his heartbeat had gone into overdrive. He’d get used to it, he told himself, working with her on a daily basis—and the shock waves would become less each time they met. Or maybe not…because these particular shock waves were becoming very pleasurable, he had to admit.

‘We’re prepping this young patent for a transfusion,’ he told her. ‘The burns are so bad that he needs blood as soon as possible or there’s a good chance he’ll die of shock.’

‘What’s his blood pressure?’ she asked.

‘Eighty over sixty,’ a nurse replied. ‘He’s showing signs of shock.’

‘How old is he?’

‘About six, we think,’ replied Jack. ‘We don’t know for sure because he was alone in the house when the fire started. His parents haven’t been contacted yet.’ He gave this information factually but Anna could see the rage in his eyes.

At that moment, the monitors surrounding the boy began to bleep erratically as the lines on the screens became jagged and irregular.

‘Get the defibrillator over here,’ Jack shouted. ‘He’s arrested!’

Anna and the rest of the team went to work. The boy’s oxygen level was increased and Anna moved forward, holding the defibrillator paddles.

‘One, two, three—clear!’ she called. Down went the paddles onto the boy’s chest. There was a loud buzzing and the boy’s small body was practically lifted off the operating trolley.

Everyone turned their attention to the monitor. The boy’s heart was beating regularly again but the rate was weak, the green lines barely moving up and down.

‘I think you should try again,’ said Jack. ‘Two hundred and forty joules again.’

Anna recharged the paddles and waited.

‘One, two, three—clear!’ she called, before again applying the defibrillator.

The team waited anxiously, all eyes on the monitor as the oxygen mask was clamped over the boy’s face. The green lines on the screen settled into a regular rhythm, this time stronger than before.

‘He’s stabilising,’ said Jack. ‘Good. Keep the oxygen at ninety-five per cent. Well done, everyone!’

He looked at Anna as he said this. He would have liked to have said more. He’d have liked to have said, You are terrific, Dr Craven, one of the best registrars I’ve ever worked with. But instead he just kept on looking at her, his eyes dancing—and even though he was wearing a surgical mask she must have known he was smiling at her.

Now that they’d stabilised the boy’s heart, the team turned their attention to his legs. Jack gently pulled back the wet dressings, revealing the young boy’s mottled, bleeding legs which had pieces of charred material stuck to them. The smell of burnt flesh intensified. But while his legs were very badly burned, the rest of his small body was mainly unaffected.

‘He must have been wearing just pyjama bottoms,’ said Jack as he set up the line for the blood transfusion, ‘and they must have been made of untreated cotton. That’s why they burst into flame with such tragic results.’

A nurse wheeled an intravenous pole across the room to the head of the trolley. ‘I thought pyjamas had to be made of flame-retardant material,’ she said. ‘I thought it was the law.’

‘It is,’ said Jack bitterly, ‘but this kid’s pyjamas were certainly not flame-retardant. Any news of his parents yet?’ He looked towards the door but no one was waiting outside.

‘I’ll go and find out, shall I?’ asked Tammy, one of the nurses whom Anna recognised from the triage desk—the reception area where patients were sorted into categories depending on medical priority.

‘Yes, please,’ said Jack. ‘There may be decisions to make about operating and we may need parental permission. Though what kind of parents must they be? People who leave a young kid alone in a house at night, while they, most likely, go out on the town! The police have been informed, I do know that.’

He watched as the first bag of blood was hooked onto the intravenous pole and the line attached to the patient. ‘Now we need to set up the intravenous antibiotics,’ he instructed.

Jack and Anna worked together smoothly and silently, each anticipating the other’s actions. He was good to work with, Anna thought. He was quick and efficient and he exuded a calmness and confidence that she found mentally stimulating and physically reassuring. He was the ideal surgeon for the kind of situations they constantly faced in A and E.

‘I wasn’t expecting to find you on the night shift,’ she said.

‘I’m not,’ he said wryly. ‘I’m on the day shift but was asked to stay on when we got the call from the emergency services.’

Tammy came back into the resuscitation room, followed by a distraught man.

‘This is the boy’s father,’ she said.

‘How’s my son? How’s Jamie?’ he asked anxiously. The medical team parted slightly, leaving a small gap through which the boy’s father was confronted by the gory sight on the surgical trolley.

‘Oh, my God!’ he said. ‘He’s not dead, is he? Tell me he isn’t dead!’

‘He’s alive but he isn’t out of danger by any means,’ said Jack, not wishing to soften the blow. His eyes were blazing. He was so mad that he wanted to put his blood-stained hands round the throat of the man who had allowed this to happen.

‘I feel it’s my fault!’ said the man, running a hand through his tousled hair.

‘I would imagine it is your fault,’ Jack shot back, ‘leaving a child as young as this on his own.’

‘But it was only meant to be for a few minutes!’ said the man wretchedly. ‘I had to go—I had to take my wife to the hospital! She’s eight months pregnant and she was bleeding and—’

‘I thought I recognised you,’ interrupted Tammy. ‘I remember you coming in with your wife earlier in the evening. You’re Mr Wyatt, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Todd Wyatt.’

‘Well, Mr Wyatt, why didn’t you call an ambulance?’ Jack asked him, his anger barely concealed below the surface.

‘I did, but it didn’t come! I thought my wife was going to die. I went upstairs to Jamie’s room and he was asleep. I thought I’d better not wake him up and bring him along with us because there was all this blood and everything. I thought it would really upset him. So when the ambulance didn’t come I decided to drive her to hospital myself, thinking it would only take a few minutes, but the car broke down on the way back. When I finally got home the whole place was in flames, fire-engines everywhere.’

He put his hands over his face and sobbed. ‘It was terrible! I thought Jamie was still in the house!’

Anna stripped off her latex gloves and binned them before putting a comforting hand on Todd Wyatt’s shoulder.

‘We hope it’s going to be all right, Mr Wyatt. Your son’s heart stopped at one point but he’s stabilised now. He’s been very badly burned and we’re now sending him to the hospital’s burns unit. They can do miraculous things these days with skin grafts. What happened to your wife? How is she?’

It was as though the man had completely forgotten about her for the moment.

‘Oh,’ he said, trying to cast his mind back to his other, earlier traumatic event. ‘They’ve taken her in for observation. The baby might be born prematurely, they said. I’ll go and check on her when I know what’s going to happen with Jamie. I’ll have to tell her, of course. Oh, hell, how am I going to tell her?’

‘I’d like to talk to you about Jamie’s pyjamas,’ said Jack, still extremely angry with the man but accepting that he had been placed in a terrible dilemma.

‘Pyjamas?’ said the man, still in a state of shock. ‘I don’t know anything about pyjamas.’

‘One of the reasons Jamie got so badly burned was because he wasn’t wearing flame-retardant pyjamas. They’re the only kind they’re supposed to sell for children. It’s the law.’

‘I think he’d gone to bed in his new judo outfit, or just the bottom half of it. He was very chuffed with it, wanted to wear it all the time. My wife made it for him from some material she got from the market, you know, to save money. She’s very clever with the sewing machine.’

Jack caught Anna’s eye. ‘Not so very clever, as it turned out,’ he said under his breath.

The trolley, with Jamie on it, was in the process of being transferred to the burns unit.

‘Tammy,’ said Anna to the nurse, ‘would you help Mr Wyatt find out what’s happened to his wife?’ Turning to the distraught man, she said, ‘Jamie’s condition is under control now. He’s sedated and he’s in good hands, and he won’t really know whether you’re here or not, Mr Wyatt, so you may as well go and be with your wife, particularly if they’re delivering the baby. I’m sure you’ll want to be there to give her support.’

Todd Wyatt followed the nurse to the main desk area and she sat him down while she made enquiries from the maternity unit.

Anna and Jack went into the changing room where they removed their surgical gowns, masks and hats.

‘I must have a shower before I even think of going home, I’m so hot and sticky,’ he said, reaching for a clean towel from the overhead lockers. ‘You look as fresh as a daisy,’ he said to Anna, his body very close to hers. ‘It’s always the way with the shift hand-over. The freshly laundered taking over from the jaded, perspiring ones!’

As he stretched up and grabbed the fluffy white towel provided by the hospital laundry, the heady scent of fresh, male sweat invaded her nostrils.

She was a fastidious person. Normally she couldn’t stand being too close to a sweaty person—man or woman. But she didn’t find Jack’s glowing proximity at all repellent. Far from it. She amazed herself by actually finding it quite attractive. She breathed in again and almost felt like swooning. Must be something to do with pheromones, she thought with an inward laugh…although she’d always believed those special sexual chemicals were reserved for the animal kingdom—in particular, moths! She found herself laughing out loud.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

‘I was just thinking about moths,’ she said, then, moving away, added, ‘It’s too complicated to explain.’

‘Do you like Mozart?’ he asked.

She puzzled over the connection between moths and Mozart.

‘Give up,’ she said. ‘I know he wrote something about a bat, Die Fledermaus? Or was that another composer?’

Jack leaned on the metal doors of the locker, his body relaxed, all the tension from his long working day vanished. Her misunderstanding appeared to amuse him greatly.

‘Forget moths,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘I’m talking about a Mozart concert at the Bridgemore Hall. Do you fancy coming along?’

Anna was about to refuse. Her mouth opened, but before she could get the words out he was one jump ahead.

‘I’ve checked your rota. The concert’s next week when you’re on the day shift.’

‘You checked my rota?’ She wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed at this evidence of snooping on his part. When he nodded, all she could bring herself to say was, ‘Oh.’

‘Do you like Mozart?’ he repeated. ‘When I mentioned loud disco music the other day you implied that your taste ran more along classical lines. And the tape I was playing in the car on the way to the pub was a Mozart symphony. You said you liked it…so I thought it would be nice to go to a live concert.’

He’d certainly done his homework!

‘Well, I…’ began Anna.

He’d put her in an awkward position. She liked him, and she was even beginning to find herself physically attracted to him, but she wasn’t ready to start dating anyone at the moment. And yet it was going to be very difficult to turn him down, particularly when he said, ‘I do hope you’ll come, Anna. I haven’t been out to a concert or a movie, or anything really, since I lost my wife. Going out on your own can be a very depressing activity in those circumstances.’

‘I’m sure you could have found someone to go with you,’ she exclaimed, before realising how crass it sounded. She bit her lip.

‘I’m sure I could,’ said Jack. ‘But that’s not the point. I haven’t wanted to ask anyone to come with me up to now. That’s the difference. But if you don’t like Mozart, I’ll give the tickets to Christine and she can take a friend along.’

‘Oh, but I do like Mozart,’ said Anna, who was beginning to feel this conversation was leading in one direction only. Jack was so determined that she would go out with him that she might as well give in gracefully.

‘What day is the concert?’ she asked.

‘Thursday,’ he said.

‘I’d love to come, Jack. Thank you very much. Now, you’d better take that shower and I’d better get back on duty.’

* * *

The next day, when she got back home after the night shift, there was a message on her answering machine.

‘Hi, Anna, it’s Rebecca. Give me a ring soon as you can, will you, darling? Bye for now.’

It was the only message waiting for her and, even though she was desperate for a hot bath and a lie-down, she decided she’d better phone her older sister straight away and get it over with. Rebecca didn’t phone her all that frequently and she wondered if it could be something urgent, some family crisis perhaps? The tone of voice on the answering machine gave nothing away but then it never did as far as Rebecca was concerned. Her sister’s ‘telephone voice’ was always the same—bossy, assertive and with a touch of false jollity.

She picked up the phone and dialled her sister’s number.

‘Thanks for ringing back,’ said Rebecca at the other end. ‘I thought you might have been at the hospital or on call or something.’

‘I’ve just come off the night shift,’ she said.

‘Oh, good, then we can chat.’

‘I’m very tired, Rebecca. Was there something special you phoned about? Otherwise I’d rather chat to you when I’ve had a bath and some sleep.’

‘I won’t keep you long, Doctor,’ said Rebecca, who reacted as if she’d been rebuked. ‘It’s about the Gypsies…about Dad, really.’

Rebecca had always referred to their parents as ‘the Gypsies’ ever since their father had retired, sold the large family home and bought a small apartment and a top-of-the-range motor home. Their parents now spent a good part of the year travelling around Europe.

‘What about Dad?’ queried Anna. ‘He’s not ill, is he?’

‘Good heavens, no!’ replied Rebecca. ‘I was talking to Jennifer and we were saying that as it’s Dad’s sixtieth birthday soon we should be thinking of having some sort of celebration. It’s only a few weeks away and they’re planning to be back in England for it.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ said Anna, her heart sinking at the thought of all the arrangements that would have to be made. ‘We ought to do something for him, but what?’

‘A party, of course,’ replied her sister. ‘That’s why I phoned. I’ve arranged to have a meeting with Jennifer one day next week so that we can discuss it. What about Thursday?’

The day rang a bell with Anna. She knew she wasn’t on night shift…but…oh, yes, that was the day she’d agreed to go out with Jack.

‘Can’t do Thursday, I’m going to a concert,’ she blurted out, before realising what she’d said.

‘That’s nice,’ said Rebecca. ‘With a man?’

Anna could visualise her sister’s antennae whizzing round like mad, hoping to pick up any signals regarding her closely guarded private life.

‘Yes,’ she admitted. She was too tired and too mentally exhausted to attempt to head her off.

‘You must tell us all about him when we have the meeting,’ said Rebecca gleefully. ‘Let’s make it Friday instead of Thursday—eight o’clock at my house. Yes?’

‘OK,’ said Anna wearily.

* * *

The concert was wonderful. In fact, the whole evening was magical. It was for Anna the turning point in her recovery from her broken heart. Not once during the Mozart evening did she give a single thought to Liam.

She settled down in her seat and gave herself up completely to the experience. As the lights were raised at the end of the concert and the hall resounded with applause, applause that seemed never-ending, she felt as if she’d been reborn and was now able to start her emotional life once again. The heartwrenching misery of the past weeks had vanished— thanks to Mozart. And thanks to Jack, too, she admitted. She came across him a lot at work—they always seemed to bump into each other at some point during the day. She found herself looking forward to catching a glimpse of him, however fleeting.

After the concert they went to a nearby Italian restaurant for a meal.

Anna chose agnello con fagioli—braised lamb with cannelini beans—and a green salad.

‘Sounds good,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll have the same.’

Sitting across the table from him, she was able to study him closely in a way she’d never previously done. His hair was very thick and vital-looking, even though it was clipped quite short. He was wearing a dark grey suit and the formality of it suited him. He was the kind of man, she judged, who’d look good in anything. Or nothing. As the thought entered her head she began, briefly, to fantasise about him naked. She felt herself colouring and banished the image from her mind.

‘How’s Saskia?’ she asked.

‘Fine,’ Jack replied. ‘She brought a picture home from nursery school today. One that she’d painted herself. It was of me, she said.’

‘Is it a good likeness?’ Anna smiled, imagining how the picture would look—probably a large, round head and stick-like arms and legs—the kind of paintings that three-year-olds did when trying to draw their parents. Rebecca and Jennifer used to have similar pictures stuck up all over their kitchen walls.

‘I think it’s a pretty good likeness, actually,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll have to tell me what you think of it when you see it.’

Anna looked away. How was she going to handle this developing relationship? For a start, did she want it to develop into anything at all? If she wasn’t careful she would get swept along and before she knew it she and Jack would be an item. She shivered slightly at the thought. She just wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted.

They were halfway through their meal when he said, ‘So who is he, this man who hurt you?’

Anna was taken aback. She had never mentioned Liam to Jack.

‘What makes you think that?’ she asked, giving nothing away.

He reached out and stroked the back of her hand with his long fingers. ‘I don’t need to be told. You’ve got it written all over your face. You look like a woman who’s been hurt…emotionally. Am I right?’

She stared at him blankly. That evening, for the first time, she’d managed to put all thoughts of Liam out of her mind. Why did Jack have to start talking about him? What business was it of his?

When she didn’t reply he continued stroking her hand, gently. He wrapped his fingers around hers, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘He must be crazy, that’s all I can say.’

She looked at him unblinkingly. Then she said, ‘Shall we have the cassata for dessert?’

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