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Carrying The Single Dad's Baby
Kate Hardy
One night of comfort…One unexpected miracle!Beatrice Lindford’s fresh start is abruptly derailed the moment she starts working with gorgeous single dad Dr Daniel Capaldi. He instantly ruffles her guarded feathers, but Beatrice must keep her mind on her new job and away from the temptation of Daniel’s charming yet sorrowful smile. Both try—and fail!—to keep their professional distance, and they soon find themselves unexpectedly bound by a tiny miracle…
One night of comfort...
One unexpected miracle!
Beatrice Lindford’s fresh start is abruptly derailed the moment she starts working with gorgeous single dad Dr. Daniel Capaldi. He instantly ruffles her guarded feathers, but Beatrice must keep her mind on her new job and away from the temptation of Daniel’s charming yet sorrowful smile. Both try—and fail—to keep their professional distance, and they soon find themselves unexpectedly bound by a tiny miracle.
KATE HARDY has always loved books, and could read before she went to school. She discovered Mills & Boon books when she was twelve, and decided that this was what she wanted to do. When she isn’t writing Kate enjoys reading, cinema, ballroom dancing and the gym. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com (http://www.katehardy.com).
Also by Kate Hardy (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
The Midwife’s Pregnancy Miracle
Mummy, Nurse…Duchess?
The Runaway Bride and the Billionaire
Christmas Bride for the Boss
Unlocking the Italian Doc’s Heart
Reunited at the Altar
Miracles at Muswell Hill Hospital miniseries
Christmas with Her Daredevil Doc
Their Pregnancy Gift
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Carrying the Single Dad’s Baby
Kate Hardy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07531-2
CARRYING THE SINGLE DAD’S BABY
© 2018 Pamela Brooks
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my editors, Sheila and Megan,
with love and thanks for being so patient with me!
Contents
Cover (#ue13a46fa-9ebb-5fc4-805b-290db04dce29)
Back Cover Text (#ufe978db6-1eba-515e-bfae-6e258952210b)
About the Author (#ue971e2b9-53f9-5270-868a-046d5683e371)
Booklist (#u33dc4b38-113c-5d7a-a497-21a5c5440b99)
Title Page (#u0a71e647-6735-5fe1-9c97-c6c1d890a0df)
Copyright (#u359716cc-afe0-5614-917f-411a5018e127)
Dedication (#u6e3d72aa-f4a5-5b13-ab2f-ab322c72aa10)
CHAPTER ONE (#u08e2deeb-7264-58cc-b17c-2a3ae4006396)
CHAPTER TWO (#u6d179ca1-7644-5474-a722-bb66ff8bd015)
CHAPTER THREE (#u053a6bd8-edea-547c-be75-4f2ca66488d9)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT.
The letters stood out, white on a blue background. Just the same as they had in the last hospital where Beatrice had worked.
Except at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital she would be getting a fresh start. This was a new place, where nobody knew about her past, so nobody could pity her. Not for her divorce, not for the baby, not for the way her life had totally imploded four years ago.
They’d all see her for who she was now. Beatrice Lindford, the new emergency consultant. Beatrice who was cool, calm and perfectly controlled. Who led her team from the front. And who’d baked brownies the night before to say hello to her new department.
She took a deep breath, pushed open the swing doors with her free hand, and walked into the reception area.
Michael Harcourt, the head of the department, was waiting for her.
‘Beatrice, lovely that you made it. Come and meet the team.’ He looked quizzically at her. ‘What’s in the boxes?’
‘Home-made brownies. Just my way of saying hello to everyone.’
‘You didn’t have to bring anything,’ he said with a smile, ‘but they’ll go down very well in the staff kitchen. Now, let me find someone to show you round... Ah, Josh.’ He called over one of the younger doctors. ‘Josh, I think you’re rostered in Resus with Beatrice, our new consultant, this morning. I’d like you to show her round before it all gets hectic.’
Was it her imagination, or was Josh looking at her slightly oddly?
‘Beatrice, this is Josh, one of our juniors. He’s a good lad, but don’t ever let him drive you anywhere—unless you don’t mind risking ending up with a tension pneumothorax, eh, Josh?’ Chuckling, Michael walked away.
Josh groaned. ‘Please don’t take too much notice of what the boss just said. My pneumothorax was months ago, and it was only because I wasn’t used to go-karting on ice and I took the corner too fast.’
‘Go-karting on ice?’ Beatrice raised an eyebrow. That sounded like the definition of insanity, to her.
‘Sam—he’s one of the registrars and you’ll meet him shortly—thought it would be a good team-building exercise,’ Josh explained. ‘And it was. It was great fun. Except I, um, crashed. And nobody’s ever going to let me forget it. Ever.’ He groaned again. ‘Even in the Christmas secret Santa last year, I got a modified model motorcycle.’
She smiled. ‘Oh, dear. So Sam’s a bit of a daredevil?’
Josh smiled back. ‘He used to be. He’s changed a bit, now he’s a dad.’
Babies.
Of course people in the department would have babies and small children. The same as they would anywhere she worked.
She wasn’t going to let it throw her. This was about her job, not her personal life.
‘Can we start with the staff kitchen so I can drop these off?’ She indicated the plastic boxes she was carrying.
‘Sure.’ He looked interested. ‘What’s in them?’
‘Brownies.’ The recipe they used at Beresford Castle that had actually got a write-up in one of the Sunday supplements, and made all the tourists come back for more. ‘I hope I made enough for everyone working in the department today.’
‘You made them yourself?’
‘Last night.’ With a bit of help from her niece and nephews.
‘That’s a lot of work. And it’s really nice of you.’
‘Just my way of saying hello to my new team,’ she said with a smile. ‘And I was planning on buying everyone a drink tonight after my shift, if you can maybe recommend somewhere. I’ve only just moved here, so I don’t really know the area yet.’
‘The Red Lion, just round the corner, is fairly popular,’ he said.
‘The Red Lion it is, then,’ she said.
Once they’d dropped the boxes of brownies in the staff kitchen, with a note she’d written earlier propped against them inviting the team to help themselves, Josh showed her round the department and introduced her to the team.
Everyone seemed friendly enough, but when a doctor strode out of cubicles, clearly ready to see his next patient, Josh suddenly looked awkward. ‘Um, and this is Daniel Capaldi, one of the registrars. Daniel, this is Beatrice Lindford, our new...’ His voice trailed off.
Why was Josh suddenly acting like a cat on a hot tin roof? Beatrice wondered. What was it about Daniel Capaldi that had made the junior doctor so nervous?
Quite apart from the fact that Daniel looked as if he could’ve graced the pages of a high-end glossy fashion magazine; she didn’t think she’d ever met anyone so good-looking in her entire life. He was tall enough for her to have to look up to him, with dark hair brushed back from his forehead—the type of hair that would curl when it was wet—dark eyes, the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man, and a mouth with an incredibly sensual curve.
He was breathtakingly beautiful.
Maybe he was the type who knew just how good-looking he was, and was used to women falling at his feet. Well, she didn’t care what her colleagues looked like. She just wanted them to be good at their jobs, communicate properly and work with her as a team to give their patients the best care possible. She wasn’t interested in anything else. Not any more.
‘Beatrice Lindford, the newest member of the team,’ she said coolly, and held out her hand to shake his.
What she hadn’t expected was the tingle all the way down her spine when Daniel took her hand and shook it firmly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d reacted so strongly to anyone.
Not good.
Really not good.
Because she didn’t want to get involved with anyone. Ever again.
* * *
Beatrice Lindford. The new consultant. The one who’d just been appointed to the job everyone had thought had Daniel’s name on it. A job that part of Daniel had wanted; but part of him hadn’t, because he knew he couldn’t give the department what it needed from him in that role at the same time as being a good single parent to Iain.
If things had been different with Jenny, he wouldn’t have hesitated to apply for the job.
But it was pointless dwelling on might-have-beens. The situation was as it was. Jenny was remarried now—to someone else. He had custody of Iain. And his son would always, always come first.
Beatrice wasn’t what Daniel had expected. She was tall, maybe four inches shorter than his own six foot two. Almost white-blonde hair that she wore tied back with a scarf at the nape of her neck. The bluest eyes he’d ever seen—the colour of the sky on a late summer evening. And an incredibly posh accent, which made her his polar opposite: clearly she came from a privileged background, whereas Daniel was the son of a teenage mum who’d been brought up mainly by his grandparents until his mother was able to cope with being a parent. They were worlds apart.
But the bit that really threw him was when he shook her hand. That handshake was meant to be businesslike, maybe even slightly on the cool side. Instead, it felt as if every single nerve ending in his body had just woken up. He’d never been so physically aware of anyone before.
Absolutely not.
Even if Beatrice Lindford was single, and even if she was interested in him, he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Iain was his world, and that was the way it was going to stay.
And he wanted a bit of distance between himself and Beatrice until he could get himself perfectly back under control and treat her just like any other member of the department, instead of behaving like a teenager who’d just felt the heady pull of sexual attraction for the first time in his life.
‘Welcome to the department, Ms Lindford,’ he said, giving her a cool nod. ‘Josh, shouldn’t you be in Resus?’
‘As should I,’ Beatrice said, narrowing her eyes slightly at him. ‘Michael Harcourt asked Josh to show me round and introduce me to everyone, and he’s been kind enough to do just that.’
He liked the fact that she’d stood up for the junior doctor. But he didn’t want to like Beatrice Lindford. He wanted to keep his distance from her, at least until he could get this unwanted attraction under control. ‘Indeed,’ he said.
‘There are brownies in the staff kitchen,’ she said. ‘Do help yourself.’
There was a touch of haughtiness to her voice. She sounded for all the world as if she’d just taken over their department. Which, he supposed, she sort of had, being their new consultant. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘And I’m buying drinks at the Red Lion after my shift,’ she said.
Drinks he definitely wouldn’t be going to. ‘Noted.’
‘I guess Josh and I had better get back to Resus.’
Daniel knew he hadn’t been particularly friendly to his new colleague, and he felt slightly guilty about that. But his response to her had flustered him, and right now there was no room in his life for anything other than his son. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, and turned away.
* * *
Daniel hadn’t been openly hostile, but there had definitely been something there. Beatrice couldn’t understand what the problem was. They’d never met each other before or even knew of each other by reputation. Or was Daniel just offhand like that with everyone, and that was why Josh had looked so awkward before he’d introduced them?
Not that she wanted to put the younger doctor in a difficult position by asking him outright. It wouldn’t be fair. Instead, she encouraged him to chatter on their way back to Resus. And then she didn’t have time to think about Daniel Capaldi when the paramedics brought in a patient. Dev, the lead paramedic, did the handover.
‘Mrs Jane Burroughes, aged sixty-seven, otherwise healthy until today when she slipped in the garden and banged her head on the rockery. She remembers blacking out but she was conscious when we arrived. We put a neck brace on and we think she’s fractured her cheekbone and her arm. I’m not happy about her eye, either,’ Dev said.
From the amount of blood on Jane Burroughes’s cheek, it was entirely possible she’d damaged her eye and they’d need to bring in a specialist.
‘Pain relief?’ Beatrice asked.
‘She refused it,’ Dev said. ‘I haven’t put a line in.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She introduced herself and Josh to Mrs Burroughes. ‘We’d like to make you a bit more comfortable while we check you over. I know you refused pain relief in the ambulance, but can I give you some pain relief now?’
‘I don’t like the way it makes me feel, woozy and sick,’ Mrs Burroughes said. ‘When I had my wisdom teeth out and they put stuff in my arm, I felt drunk for two days afterwards.’
‘I could give you some paracetamol?’ Beatrice suggested. ‘That won’t make you feel woozy, and it’ll take the edge off the pain. It won’t be as effective as a stronger painkiller, but you’ll feel a little bit more comfortable.’
Finally Mrs Burroughes agreed to have paracetamol.
‘We’ll need to do a CT scan of her neck,’ Beatrice said to Josh, ‘and call the ophthalmology team for their view on Mrs Burroughes’s eye.’
Thankfully the CT scan showed no problems with Mrs Burroughes’s neck, so they were able to remove the neck brace; the ophthalmology team was able to confirm that the laceration was fixable and Mrs Burroughes wasn’t going to lose her sight. Finally the X-ray showed that the break in Mrs Burroughes’s arm was clean and could be treated with a cast rather than surgery.
Beatrice had just finished treating her patient and arranged a handover to the ward when Sam Price came in.
‘Beatrice, it’s lunchtime,’ he said, ‘and Hayley—my wife, who’s coming back to work here part time next month—suggested meeting us in the canteen. Josh, are you coming with us?’
The younger doctor blushed. ‘I...um...’
Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Got a date?’
Josh nodded, and Sam patted his shoulder. ‘Just be yourself and don’t worry. She’ll adore you.’
Sam took Beatrice to the canteen. ‘So how was your first morning?’ he asked.
‘Fine.’ Apart from Daniel Capaldi. Not that she was going to let herself think about him. ‘Josh is a sweetie.’
‘He’s a nice lad. Though I feel a bit guilty because—well, I assume you must’ve heard about the staff day out I organised?’ Sam asked.
‘Go-karting on ice, you mean?’
‘It’s great fun,’ he said with a grin. ‘But I’m a reformed character now. No bungee-jumping, no go-karting on ice and no abseiling—well, unless it’s for work.’
‘Abseiling at work?’ Beatrice couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’m not sure that’s part of the average Emergency Department’s duties.’
He laughed back. ‘It can be, if it’s a MERIT team job, but don’t tell Haze because she worries.’
‘Got you.’
Hayley Price was waiting for them at the entrance to the canteen. Sam greeted her with a kiss. ‘Beatrice, this is Hayley; Hayley, Beatrice.’ He smiled. ‘And this gorgeous little bundle is Darcie.’ He scooped the baby out of the lightweight pram, and the baby cooed at him and pulled his hair.
‘Lovely to meet you, Beatrice, and welcome to Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital,’ Hayley said. ‘So how has your first day in the department been?’
‘Great. Everyone’s been lovely.’ Almost everyone. She wasn’t going to make a fuss.
‘They’re a good bunch,’ Hayley said.
‘She’s a good one, too,’ Sam said. ‘Our kitchen’s full of the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. Did you spend all last night baking them, Beatrice?’
She smiled. ‘No, and I had a bit of help. Make sure you grab one for Hayley.’
By the time they’d bought their lunch and settled at a table, still chatting, Beatrice was feeling very much part of the team.
‘So you’re coming back part time next month?’ she asked Hayley.
Hayley nodded. ‘Much as I love my daughter, I miss work. Part time seemed like a good compromise.’
‘I agree,’ Beatrice said.
‘If you’d like a cuddle with Darcie, better get it in now because the whole department will swoop on her when we walk in,’ Sam said.
A cuddle with the baby.
Beatrice thought of her own baby, the stillborn daughter she’d held for a few brief minutes. What if that car hadn’t crashed into her? What if she hadn’t had the abruption, and Taylor had been born around her due date, alive?
But now wasn’t the time or place to think about it. None of that was Sam’s or Hayley’s fault. She forced herself to smile brightly and scooped the baby from Sam’s arms. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
‘You’re good with babies,’ Hayley said when Darcie promptly yawned and fell asleep.
Again, Beatrice shut the door in her head. ‘It comes from having three nephews and a niece. The youngest one’s four now.’ And how hard it had been to hold him. ‘But I’m an old hand at getting them to go to sleep.’
‘I’ll remember that and get you to teach me some tricks when Madam here starts teething,’ Hayley said. ‘Right. So, tell us all about you. Where did you train, where were you before here, do you have a partner and children...?’
‘Haze, give the poor woman a chance to breathe!’ Sam admonished, though he was smiling and looked as if he wanted to know the answers, too.
‘It’s fine. I trained at the Hampstead Free and I worked there until I came here,’ Beatrice said with a smile. The next bit was more tricky. Telling the whole truth would mean that her new colleagues would pity her as much as they had at the Hampstead Free, and she really didn’t want that. Better to keep it simple and stick to the bare bones. The facts, and no explanations. ‘No partner, no children.’ To make sure nobody would try any well-meaning matchmaking, she added, ‘And I’m concentrating very happily on my career.’ And now it was time to change the subject. ‘Can I ask you something confidential? I know I probably could’ve asked Josh, but I didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.’
‘Sure. Ask away,’ Hayley said.
‘It’s about Daniel Capaldi,’ Beatrice said.
Sam and Hayley exchanged a glance, looking slightly uneasy.
‘I knew there was something. What am I missing?’ Beatrice asked.
‘Daniel’s a nice guy,’ Sam said carefully.
What he wasn’t saying was obvious. Beatrice wasn’t afraid to put it into words. ‘But?’
Hayley blew out a breath. ‘There isn’t a tactful way to say it, but I get the impression you’re a straight-talker so I know you won’t take this the wrong way. Everyone thought his name was on the consultant’s job.’
‘So I’ve got his job and he resents me for it.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Sam said.
‘But probably. Anyone would feel that way, in his shoes.’ Beatrice bit her lip. ‘OK. Thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful what I say to him. I don’t want to rub it in and make him feel bad.’
‘At the end of the day, the management team chose you,’ Hayley said. ‘He’ll get over it.’
At least now Beatrice understood why Daniel had been a little snippy with her and less welcoming than other members of the team. She’d be careful with him—not patronising, but not throwing her weight around, either.
After Hayley scooped the sleeping baby out of Beatrice’s arms and transferred her to the pram, Beatrice enjoyed having lunch with them. Muswell Hill was a good place. She had the strongest feeling that she was going to be happy here.
‘It’s not just about work, though,’ Hayley said. ‘There’s the regular pub quiz between us, Maternity and Paediatrics. How’s your general knowledge?’
Beatrice thought of her brothers. ‘A bit obscure.’
‘Good. You’re on the team,’ Sam said. ‘There’s a team ten-pin bowling night in a couple of weeks—everything’s on the noticeboard in the staff kitchen, if you want to sign up. Oh, and we’re having a football morning in the park on Saturday. It’s not a serious thing, really just the chance for everyone to kick a ball around, but we do a pot-luck picnic thing afterwards. And, after trying your brownies this morning...’
Beatrice smiled. ‘Hint taken. OK. I don’t mind kicking a ball about. And I’ll make some more brownies.’
‘Excellent. I think you’re going to fit right in,’ Sam said with a smile.
‘Josh said the Red Lion’s the place to go, so I’m buying drinks after my shift today,’ Beatrice said. ‘If you can both make it, it’d be lovely to see you.’
‘That’s nice of you,’ Hayley said. ‘Thanks. We’ll be there.’
* * *
Back in the staff kitchen, as Sam had predicted, everyone wanted to cuddle baby Darcie. And people Beatrice hadn’t yet met patted her on the shoulder, welcomed her to the department, and thanked her for the brownies.
Daniel Capaldi was conspicuously absent; and Beatrice noticed that he didn’t come to the Red Lion with the rest of the team after their shift. She could understand that. If you were really disappointed at not getting a promotion everyone thought you’d earned, it would be hard to celebrate someone else getting the post instead.
But there was a strong chance she and Daniel would have to work together in the future, and she needed to be sure that they could do that and put the needs of their patients before any professional rivalry. As the more senior of them, it was up to her to sort it out.
There were two ways she could deal with this. She could either pretend it wasn’t happening and wait for Daniel to stop resenting her; or she could tackle the problem head on and come to some kind of understanding with him. She’d grown up with their family motto, tenacitas per aspera—strength through adversity—so the second option was the one the rest of the Lindfords would choose.
Tackling him head on it was.
The next day, she was in Cubicles and Daniel was in Resus. Just as Sam had done, the previous day, she slipped into Resus at lunchtime. Daniel was on his own, to her relief, and it looked as if he was writing up notes. ‘Dr Capaldi. Just the man I wanted to see,’ she said.
He gave her a cool look. ‘Something I can help you with, Ms Lindford?’
‘Yes. I’m buying you lunch.’
‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary.’
He was trying to fob her off? Well, she wasn’t put off that easily. ‘I rather think it is. You and I need a chat.’
‘Hardly.’
‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I’m not pulling rank, but I think there’s a problem and we need to sort it out rather than let it grow out of proportion.’
‘There isn’t a problem,’ he said.
‘Then have lunch with me.’
He looked reluctant.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to put arsenic in your coffee,’ she said. ‘Apart from anything else, I don’t have the licence to get hold of that grade of poison.’
He didn’t even crack a smile.
Taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until his teeth rattled wouldn’t achieve anything other than a temporary relief from frustration. She folded her arms to help her resist the temptation. ‘I could offer you a pair of boxing gloves, if that would make you feel better. Though I should probably make you aware that I could take you in the gym.’
He blinked. ‘You box?’
‘I box,’ she confirmed. Her personal trainer had suggested it, and boxing had been one of the things that had got her on the slow road back from rock bottom. ‘I might be a galumphing five foot ten, but I’m very light on my feet. I can do the whole Muhammed Ali thing. So. Your choice. Boxing gloves or lunch?’
‘Lunch. Because I’d never hit a woman.’
‘I wouldn’t have any qualms about hitting you in the ring,’ she said.
Was that a fleeting and grudging glimpse of respect she saw in his face?
‘But I think coffee night be more civilised,’ she said.
He didn’t make polite conversation on the way to the canteen, but neither did she. And although Daniel protested when she insisted on paying for his sandwiches, Beatrice gave him the look she reserved for patients who were drunk and obnoxious on a Saturday night and he backed off.
‘Thank you for lunch,’ he muttered when they sat down.
At least he had manners. Even if he wouldn’t look her in the eye. And that was going to change, too. She’d make him smile at her if it killed her.
‘Let’s put our cards on the table. I understand why you don’t like me. I got the job that everyone thought had your name written all over it. Of course you resent me.’
‘Not true,’ he said.
She scoffed. ‘You were the only person who didn’t take a brownie yesterday.’
‘Because I don’t like chocolate.’
That hadn’t occurred to her. But she hadn’t finished with her evidence. ‘And you didn’t come to my welcome drink after your shift.’
‘And you think that was because I’m sulking?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Everyone else thought my name was on that job. That’s the only bit you got right.’
She frowned. ‘So what’s your take on it?’
‘Not that it’s anybody’s business, but I didn’t actually apply for the job.’
She stared at him. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I didn’t,’ he confirmed. ‘Because I can’t give the department what it needs, right now. I’m a single dad, and my son’s needs come before the job. Always.’
She blew out a breath. ‘Fair enough. I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, you do now.’
‘Then I apologise for jumping to conclusions.’
* * *
Daniel hadn’t expected her to react quite like that. He’d expected her to go haughty on him, as she had the previous day.
And he hadn’t exactly been fair to her. He could’ve told her that he wasn’t going to her welcome drinks, and why. Instead, he’d chickened out and just avoided her.
He needed to put that right. ‘And I’m sorry for letting you think I resent you for taking my job.’
‘OK. So we’re saying now that the problem between us isn’t a problem.’
Oh, there was a problem, all right. His libido was practically sitting up and begging. But he was just going to have to ignore it. ‘There isn’t a problem,’ he lied. ‘Welcome to Muswell Hill.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And you didn’t have to buy me lunch.’
‘Call it in lieu of the drink you didn’t have last night,’ she said.
He inclined his head. ‘Then thank you.’ Polite, he could do.
‘So how old is your son?’ she asked.
‘Four.’ Was it his imagination, or did she just flinch?
Imagination, maybe, because then she smiled. ‘It’s a lovely age. My youngest nephew is four.’
She had a killer smile. If Daniel hadn’t known it was anatomically impossible, he would’ve said that his heart had just done a backflip. But, for Iain’s sake, he couldn’t act on the attraction he felt towards Beatrice Lindford. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into the little boy’s life—someone who might not stick around. Someone who was, to all intents and purposes, his boss. It would be too complicated. Inappropriate. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, not sure quite what to say to her. How to stop this from tipping over into personal stuff he didn’t want to share. Such as why he was a single dad.
‘Stating the obvious, but from your accent it sounds as if you’re from Scotland.’
‘Glasgow,’ he confirmed.
‘With an Italian surname?’
‘My great-grandparents were Italian.’ He paused. ‘And you’re posh.’
‘Yes. But I’m a girl and I’m the youngest, so I got to choose what I wanted to do.’
Meaning that her brother—or brothers—had been expected to go into the family business? But asking her would be too personal; and it would also mean she could ask him personal stuff that he didn’t want to answer. He backed off. ‘So you trained as a doctor.’
‘Here in London. What about you? Glasgow or here?’
‘Here,’ he said. And please don’t let her ask about his son.
‘So what made you pick emergency medicine?’ she asked.
Relief flooded through him. He could talk about work and why he did what he did. It wasn’t quite so personal, so it was easier to deal with. ‘I like the fact that we make a real difference, that we can save people.’ He paused. ‘You?’
‘Pretty much the same. Though we can’t save everyone.’
Again, there was an odd look on her face—as if she was talking about something personal. But he wasn’t going to ask. It was none of his business. Instead, he said, ‘We do our best. That’s all any of us can do. Strive to do our best.’
‘True.’
He finished his coffee. ‘Thank you for lunch. And for the chat.’
‘So we’re good?’
‘It won’t be a problem working together, if that’s what you mean.’ He’d already heard Josh singing her praises, saying that Beatrice was good with patients and she listened to the rest of the team. That was good. He hated it when senior colleagues went all arrogant. It was never good for the patients.
‘I’m glad. We don’t have to be friends,’ she said. ‘As long as we agree that our patients come first.’
‘That works for me,’ he said. ‘We’d better get back to the ward.’
‘OK.’ She swallowed the last of her own coffee. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER TWO (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
THE REST OF the week went smoothly; Beatrice still wasn’t rostered in the same part of the department as Daniel during their shifts, but at least he was civil to her if they happened to be in the staff kitchen at the same time.
On Saturday morning, she headed to the park for the team’s football day out. As Sam had requested, she made some brownies. Remembering that Daniel didn’t like chocolate, she also made flapjacks, as a kind of peace offering. Then again, Daniel might not be there.
She’d just added her offerings to the picnic table when Daniel turned up with a small boy in tow. Even if she hadn’t known that he had a four-year-old son, she would’ve known that the little boy was Daniel’s because they looked so alike. And she was faintly amused to discover that the little boy had a Glaswegian accent almost as strong as his father’s.
But what she hadn’t expected was that Daniel would look so gorgeous in a football kit. The tight-fitting T-shirt showed that he had good abs, and his legs were strong and muscular. He looked more like a model than a doctor, and she wasn’t surprised to see how many admiring glances were headed his way.
‘I didn’t think you’d be here today,’ Daniel said. ‘Or are you a football fan as well as a boxing fan?’
She pushed away the thought of getting hot and sweaty in a boxing ring with him. That really wasn’t appropriate. ‘Hayley and Sam said everyone turns up and has a huge picnic afterwards. I thought it might be a nice way to get to know the team outside work,’ she said.
Daniel shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Do you work with my daddy?’ the little boy asked.
‘I do,’ Beatrice confirmed.
He looked at her. ‘You’re really tall for a girl.’
‘Iain, don’t be rude,’ Daniel began.
‘It’s fine, and he’s right—I am tall.’ She smiled, and crouched down so she was nearer to the little boy’s height. ‘Is that better?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Hello. I’m Iain.’
‘I’m Beatrice.’ She held out her hand for him to shake.
He shook her hand, but frowned. ‘That’s a strange name.’
‘You can call me Bea, for short.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Like a buzzy bee?’
She couldn’t resist Iain’s charm and chutzpah. ‘Just like that,’ she said.
‘Hello, Bee. Are you going to play football?’
‘No, I’m just going to watch,’ she said.
‘I play football. Just like my dad,’ Iain told her proudly, puffing out his chest.
‘Then I’ll make sure I cheer really loudly when you score a goal,’ she said.
Although football really wasn’t her thing, she enjoyed chatting to Hayley on the sidelines, and dutifully clapped and cheered every time a goal was scored.
Iain was running past her, clearly intent on getting to the ball, when he tripped and fell over. Instinctively, she looked up to see where Daniel was: on the far side of the field.
Iain was on his knees, crying and shielding his arm.
What could she do but go over to him until his dad arrived and see if she could sort out the problem?
‘You’re lucky we’re all in the emergency department so we know just how to deal with things when people fall over,’ she said. ‘Where does it hurt, Iain?’
‘Here.’ He pointed to his elbow.
It was very obvious to her that he’d twisted his arm when he fell, so the ligament holding the radial bone in place had slipped, letting the bone dislocate. Given that he was so young, it would be easy to manipulate the bone back into place—but she also knew that it would hurt like mad, very briefly.
‘I need you to be super-brave for me, Iain,’ she said. ‘Do you like chocolate?’
‘Aye.’
‘OK. I can fix what’s wrong, but it means I have to touch your poorly arm and it’ll hurt for about three seconds. After that, it’ll stop hurting,’ she said. ‘I made some really special chocolate brownies you might like, so you can have one afterwards. I just need you to be brave for three seconds, that’s all. Can you do that for me?’
Iain sobbed, ‘I want my dad.’
‘And he’s running across the field towards you right now. He’ll be here really soon. But I really need to slip that bone back into place for you,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes and sing me a song, Iain.’
‘I don’t know any songs,’ he wailed, clearly too scared to be able to think.
‘I bet you know “The Wheels on the Bus”,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you sing it. And I want you to sing it really, really loudly. Can you do that?’
He nodded, his face wet with tears.
She started singing, and the little boy closed his eyes and began to sing along with her, very loudly and very out of tune. The perfect distraction, she hoped. One quick movement and she’d manipulated his arm to put the bone back into place.
Iain was halfway through yelling when he clearly realised that his arm had stopped hurting.
‘Oh. It doesn’t hurt any more,’ he said. ‘You fixed me!’
‘I did,’ she said with a smile.
* * *
Daniel arrived just as Iain flung his arms around Beatrice and hugged her. ‘Thank you, Bee!’
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘He fell over and dislocated his elbow. I’ve just manipulated it back, but we need to check his pulses and his range of movement.’ Just in case there was a problem and Iain needed an X-ray, Daniel knew.
His own heart was racing madly with fear for his child, but she’d been calm and sorted out the problem without any fuss. He’d do the same. It was what he’d trained all these years for: to be calm when there was an accident or an emergency.
‘Iain, can you move your arms for me and copy what I do?’ he asked.
‘Aye, Dad.’
He checked Iain’s pulses, which were fine, then talked Iain through a range of movements. The little boy copied every movement without flinching or stopping as if he was in pain. Everything seemed completely normal.
‘I hardly need to tell you what happens next,’ Beatrice said.
‘Pain relief if he needs it, put him in a sling for the rest of today to support his elbow, and if he stiffens up and doesn’t use his arm tomorrow take him in for an X-ray.’
She spread her hands. ‘Textbook perfect, Dr Capaldi.’
‘Thank you for looking after him,’ he said.
‘That’s what I’m here for. That,’ she said, ‘and chocolate brownies. I haven’t forgotten what I promised you, Iain.’
‘My dad doesn’t like chocolate. We never have chocolate brownies,’ Iain said.
‘Then your dad can go and finish playing football while you sit and eat brownies with me,’ she said.
‘I...’ Daniel looked at her, wanting to be with his son but not wanting to let the rest of the team down, either.
Beatrice shooed him back to the field. ‘He’ll be fine with me.’ And then she gave him the sassiest smile he’d ever seen, one that made him want to grab her and kiss her. Not good.
‘Trust me—I’m a doctor,’ she said.
It was the cheesiest line in the book. But he’d seen her at work and he’d heard others praising her, saying that she always put the patient first. And Iain seemed to like her. He gave her a speaking look, but headed back to the field. He played for another ten minutes, and then to his relief he was substituted by one of the nurses.
When he went back over to where the spectators were, Iain was chatting animatedly to Beatrice. And Beatrice had used the scarf from her hair to fashion into a sling.
‘Dad! You’re back!’
‘That’s my playing over for today,’ he said. ‘Thank you for looking after Iain. I’ll take over now.’
‘My pleasure. We’ve had a nice time, haven’t we, Iain?’ she asked.
‘She made me a special sling,’ Iain said. ‘Look.’
‘Very nice,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll wash it when we get home and get it back to you on Monday at work. And now we must let Ms Lindford get on, Iain.’
The little boy frowned. ‘But I like talking to Bee.’
‘She’s busy.’
Out of Iain’s view, she shook her head.
She wasn’t undermining him as a parent—he appreciated the fact she’d disagreed with him without actually saying so in front of his son—but the idea of spending time with her was dangerous. Right now Beatrice’s hair was loose, she was wearing denims cut off at the knee, a strappy top and canvas shoes; and she looked more approachable than she did at work in tailored trousers and a white coat. The way she looked right now, he could just imagine walking hand in hand with her in the sunshine and kissing her under a tree.
He didn’t want to walk hand in hand with anyone in the sunshine or kiss them under a tree, and that included Beatrice Lindford, he told himself sharply.
‘Five more minutes, Dad?’ Iain pleaded. ‘Please.’
Again, out of Iain’s view, she nodded.
Iain’s brown eyes were huge and pleading. How could he resist? ‘All right. Five more minutes.’
‘Bee makes the best chocolate brownies in the world,’ Iain said. ‘Even you would like them, Dad.’
‘I made flapjacks as well.’ She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘And don’t tell me that you don’t like oats. You’re a Scot.’
‘Aye, he is.’ Iain was all puffed up with pride. ‘And so am I.’
‘Peas in a pod, you two.’
But Daniel could see she was laughing with them, not at them.
‘Can I have some flapjacks, too, Bee?’ Iain asked.
‘That’s your dad’s call, not mine,’ she said, lifting her hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘Yes,’ Daniel said. ‘Though there’s a word missing, Iain Capaldi.’
‘Please,’ Iain said.
Daniel ended up trying a flapjack himself, and it surprised him. ‘That’s actually better than my grandmother’s—and don’t you dare tell your great-gran I said that, Iain,’ he added swiftly.
‘My great-granny makes the best ice cream in the world,’ Iain said. ‘Do you like ice cream, Bee?’
‘I do,’ Beatrice said with a smile, completely charmed by the way he pronounced his Rs.
‘You should come to Glasgow and try my great-granny’s special ice cream. It’s fab.’
‘Maybe sometime,’ Beatrice said.
Iain chattered away to her, and Daniel couldn’t help watching them. Iain was usually shy with strangers, so it was unusual for him to be so talkative. Maybe it was because Beatrice had reduced his dislocated elbow and stopped him being in such pain. Or maybe he was responding to her gentleness.
Against his better judgement, he was starting to like Beatrice Lindford. Too much for his own peace of mind. She was the first woman since Jenny he’d even thought about holding hands with, let alone anything else. Which made her dangerous.
Iain didn’t stop talking about her all the way home, either.
‘She looks like a princess,’ he said. ‘She’s got real golden hair.’
Hair that Daniel couldn’t get out of his head, now he’d seen it loose.
‘And it’s long.’
Yeah. Daniel had noticed.
‘Like the princess in the story Miss Shields told us in class. The one in the tower. Her hair was so long she could make it into a ladder. Ra...’ He paused, his forehead wrinkled in a frown as he tried to remember the princess’s name.
‘Rapunzel,’ Daniel supplied.
‘Aye. And she talks like the Queen, all posh.’
‘Yes.’
‘I like her. Do you like her, Dad?’
Awkward question. ‘I work with her,’ Daniel prevaricated.
‘She’s nice. Can she come for tea tonight?’
‘No, Iain. She’s busy.’
But his son wasn’t to be put off. ‘Next week, then?’
‘She might be busy.’
‘Ask her,’ Iain said. ‘Go on, Dad. Ask her. Please.’
‘Do you want to go and get pizza?’ Daniel asked, hoping to distract his son with a treat.
It worked. Until bedtime, when Iain started on about princesses again. ‘Do you think Bee’s married to a prince?’
Daniel had no idea, but maybe if Iain thought Beatrice was married he’d drop the subject. ‘Probably.’
‘Then why didn’t the prince come to play football today?’
Daniel loved his son dearly, but the constant questions could be exhausting. ‘Maybe he can’t play football.’
‘Oh.’ Iain paused. ‘If she’s a princess, do you think she knows the Queen?’
‘I don’t know, Iain.’
‘Mum likes Prince Harry.’
Daniel tamped down his irritation. ‘I know.’
‘Do you think Bee knows Prince Harry?’
‘I think,’ Daniel said gently, ‘it’s time for one more story and then sleep.’
He just hoped his son wouldn’t say anything about Beatrice next weekend, when Iain was due to stay with his mother. The last thing he wanted was Jenny quizzing him about whether he was dating again. He knew she still felt guilty about what had happened between them, and that if he started seeing someone it would make her feel better, but he really didn’t want to date anyone. He wanted to concentrate on bringing Iain up and being the best dad he could be.
On Sunday, Iain seemed to have forgotten about his new friend. But then on Monday Daniel picked up his son from nursery, and Iain handed him a picture: a drawing of a woman with long golden hair and a crown, a man playing football and a small boy with red lines coming out of his elbow.
‘It’s Bee making me better on Saturday,’ he announced, although Daniel had already worked that out for himself. ‘I drawed it for her. Can you give it to her tomorrow?’
‘All right.’
Iain beamed. ‘I know she’ll like it.’
‘I’m sure she will.’ If she didn’t, he’d fib and tell Iain that she loved it. No way was he going to let his little boy be disappointed.
* * *
Beatrice was in the staff kitchen when he walked in, the next day. ‘Are you busy at lunchtime?’ he asked.
She looked surprised, then answered carefully. ‘It depends what it’s like in Resus.’
‘OK. If you’re not busy, I need to talk to you—and lunch is on me.’
She shook her head. ‘There’s no need.’
‘I want to say thank you for rescuing Iain on Saturday. His arm’s fine, by the way.’
‘Good, but really there’s no need to buy me lunch. I just did what anyone else would’ve done because I was the nearest one to him when it happened. Though thank you for the offer.’
‘Can I just talk to you, then?’ He really didn’t want to give her the picture in front of everyone.
She nodded. ‘We’ll go halves on lunch.’
‘Good.’
Daniel switched into work mode, and managed to concentrate on his patients for the morning: two fractures, a badly sprained ankle and an elderly woman who’d had a TIA and whom he admitted for further testing. He had no idea how busy Resus had been, but at lunchtime Beatrice appeared. ‘Are you OK to go, or do you need a bit of time to finish writing up notes?’
‘I’m OK to go,’ he said.
He waited until they were sitting in the canteen before handing her the envelope.
‘What’s this?’ she asked.
‘Iain asked me to give you this,’ he said.
She opened the envelope, looked at the picture and smiled. Her blue eyes were full of warmth when she looked at him. ‘That’s lovely—me, him and you at the team football day on Saturday, I’m guessing?’
He nodded.
‘Tell him thank you, I love it, and I’m going to put it on my fridge, right next to the picture Persephone drew me of her horse at the weekend.’
‘Persephone?’ Daniel asked.
‘My niece.’
He blinked. ‘So your family goes in for unusual names.’
She nodded. ‘My generation’s all from Shakespeare—Orlando’s the oldest, then Lysander, then me.’ She spread her hands. ‘It could’ve been worse. My mother could’ve called me Desdemona or Goneril. And, actually, Beatrice is Shakespeare’s best female character, so I’m quite happy to be named after her.’
Her accent alone marked her out as posh. The names of her brothers and her niece marked her out as seriously posh. And had she just said that her niece had a horse? Posh and rich, then.
Then he realised what he’d said. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude about your name. We just have...simpler names in my family.’
‘Then you’d approve of Sandy’s choices—George and Henry.’
‘Sandy?’
‘Lysander.’ She smiled. ‘Mummy’s the only one who’s allowed to call him that. Anyone else gets his evil glare and never dares do it again.’
‘So Persephone is your oldest brother’s daughter, then?’
She nodded. ‘We call her Seffy, for short. And her older brother is Odysseus.’
‘Odysseus.’ Who wouldn’t have lasted three seconds in the playground at Daniel’s school. Why on earth would you call a child Odysseus?
As if the question was written all over his face, Beatrice explained, ‘Orlando studied classics. So did his wife. They wanted to use names from Greek mythology for their children—and their dogs.’ She grinned. ‘They have a black Lab called Cerberus—although he only has one head, he barks enough for three and it drives Mummy crackers.’
She called her mother ‘Mummy’? Posher still. Beatrice Lindford was way, way out of his league.
Not that he was thinking of asking her out.
The attraction he felt towards her needed to be stifled. The sooner, the better.
She looked at the drawing again. ‘Why am I wearing a crown?’
‘Iain says you talk like the Queen and you’ve got hair like a princess, so he’s decided you must be a princess and therefore you also know the Queen and Prince Harry.’
She laughed. ‘That’s cute.’
‘I tried to tell him you’re not a princess.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Are you sure? Because... Well...’
‘Because I have a posh accent and most of my family have unusual names? That’s a bit of a sweeping generalisation. It’d be like me saying you’re from Glasgow so everything you eat must be fried.’
‘True, and I didn’t mean to be rude.’
* * *
Beatrice definitely wasn’t going to tell Daniel that she had grown up in a castle. Or that actually her father was a viscount, making her family minor royalty. He didn’t need to know any of that. All he needed to know about her was that she was a doctor, and she was good at her job.
‘Apology accepted. And I love Iain’s drawing.’ She smiled at him. ‘He’s a nice boy.’
‘And he hasn’t stopped talking about you, or asking when you can come to tea. I’ve told him you’re busy and you’re probably married to a prince.’ Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what started all the Prince Harry stuff. His mum likes Prince Harry.’
So Daniel had clearly split up from his partner rather than being a widower. It was unusual for a dad to have custody of the child, but asking him about the situation felt like prying. ‘Prince Harry is gorgeous,’ she said. ‘Your wife has good—’ She stopped dead. Uh-oh. Good taste. That was tantamount to saying that she fancied Daniel.
Which she didn’t.
Well, a little bit.
Well, quite a lot.
But things were complicated. She had the job he claimed he hadn’t applied for but which everyone thought had had his name on it. He had a son who was clearly the focus of his life, and dating would be tricky for him. Plus she didn’t want to tell him about her past and see the pity in his face.
Better to keep this professional.
‘Good taste in princes,’ she finished.
‘I’ll tell her that. Because Iain’s going to tell her all about you when he sees her this weekend.’ He sighed. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much a four-year-old boy can talk.’
Or girl. She thought of Taylor and her heart squeezed. Would her little girl have been a chatterbox?
Not here. Not now.
‘Oh, I would. George could talk the hind leg off a donkey. He’s four,’ she said. A month younger than Taylor would’ve been. And how hard it had been to walk into her sister-in-law’s hospital room and hold that baby in her arms for the first time. She’d had to force herself to smile and hold back the tears. ‘George is the youngest of my nephews, and his big thing is dinosaurs. You wouldn’t believe how many complicated names he can pronounce. Give him a bucket of wooden bricks and he’ll build you a stegosaurus in two minutes flat.’
‘Iain loves dinosaurs, too. And rockets. My mum painted a mural in his bedroom of dinosaurs in a rocket heading for the moon, and he loves it.’
‘I bet.’ She glanced at her watch, knowing that she was being a coward and cutting this short. But she couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved with Daniel Capaldi and his son. ‘Better get back to the ward. Please thank Iain for his drawing. It’s lovely.’
‘I will.’ He looked relieved, as if she’d let him off the hook.
So did that mean he felt this ridiculous attraction, too?
Well, even if he did, they weren’t going to act on it. They were going to be professional. Keep things strictly business between them. And that was that.
CHAPTER THREE (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
OVER THE NEXT couple of days, Daniel’s determination to keep things strictly professional was sorely tested, particularly when he and Beatrice were rostered on together in Resus.
Their first patient of the day was Maureen Bishop, an elderly woman who’d slipped and fallen backwards off the patio, and was badly injured, enough for the air ambulance to bring her in.
‘Thankfully her neighbour had arranged to pop round for a cup of tea, couldn’t get an answer and went round the back of the house and found her,’ the paramedic from the air ambulance explained. ‘She was unconscious, so the neighbour called the ambulance—who called us to bring her in. She’s come round now, but she’s got a nasty gash in the back of her head from falling against a pot, plus fractured ribs, and we’re a bit worried she might have a crack in her skull or a bleed in her brain.’
‘Have you given her any pain relief?’ Beatrice asked.
The paramedic nodded and gave her full details. ‘We’ve put her on a spinal board with a neck brace.’
‘Great. Has anyone managed to get in touch with her family?’
‘Yes. Her daughter’s on the way in.’
‘That’s good.’ She went over to the trolley with Daniel. ‘Hello, Mrs Bishop, I’m Beatrice and this is Daniel,’ she said. ‘We’re looking after you today. May we call you Maureen?’
‘Yes, love,’ Maureen said.
‘Can you remember what happened?’
The elderly woman grimaced. ‘I slipped and fell.’
‘Can you remember blacking out, or do you have any idea how long you were unconscious?’ Beatrice asked.
‘No,’ Maureen whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’
Beatrice squeezed her hand. ‘No need to apologise. You’ve had a nasty fall. I’m going to send you for a scan because we need to check out that bump to your head, and also for X-rays so we can have a better look at your ribs, because we think you might have broken a few. Your daughter’s on her way.’
‘I didn’t want to worry her. I told them not to call her at work,’ Maureen said.
‘If you were my mum,’ Beatrice said gently, ‘then I’d want to know you’d been taken to hospital. I’d be more upset if they didn’t call me. And I’m betting it’s just the same for your daughter.’
The CT scan showed a bleed to the brain; by the time Beatrice had liaised with the neurology team and persuaded them to admit Maureen, her daughter Jennifer had arrived.
‘What happened?’ Jennifer asked.
‘Your mum slipped off the patio and banged her head against a pot. We know she was unconscious for a while, but not for how long. Fortunately her neighbour found her and called the ambulance,’ Daniel explained.
‘We sent your mum for a scan and X-rays,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’m pleased to say there’s no evidence of any bones broken in her neck, so we can take the spinal collar off now, but she has fractured a couple of ribs, and when she hit her head it caused a bleed in her brain. She seems fine at the moment, but a bleed is a bit like a stroke in that sometimes it takes a few days for us to see what’s happened. We’re going to admit her to the neurology ward, so she’s going to be monitored for the next day or so.’
‘But she’s going to be all right? She’s not going to die?’
‘She’s holding her own at the moment,’ Beatrice said, taking Jennifer’s hand and squeezing it, ‘but we want to keep an eye on her in case that bang on the head causes a problem. She’ll be in good hands and we can treat her straight away if anything happens.’ She smiled at Jennifer. ‘Your mum was a bit worried about the paramedics calling you at work.’
‘I got someone to cover my class,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’d be more upset if they hadn’t called me.’
‘That’s exactly what I told her,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’ll take you through now. It’s going to look a bit scary because your mum’s on a spinal board with a neck collar on, but that’s absolutely standard when someone’s had a fall and we think there might be any damage to the back or the neck. I’ll let you say hello to her, and then we’ll take off the collar and make her a bit more comfortable before she goes up to the ward.’
* * *
It was the first time Daniel had worked with Beatrice, and he could see for himself why Josh had sung her praises. Beatrice was very clear when she was managing Resus; everyone knew what they needed to do, and she was completely approachable. Josh had said that one of the nurses hadn’t quite understood her instructions, the other day, and Beatrice had taken the time afterwards to go through the case, explaining exactly why she’d made certain decisions. And he really liked the way she was calm and kind to their patients.
The more Daniel worked with her, the more he liked her.
And, worse still, the more attracted he was to her. He couldn’t seem to get a grip and push the unwanted feelings aside. Instead, he found himself wondering how soft her hair would be against his skin, and how her arms would feel around him. How her mouth would feel against his own.
For pity’s sake. He was thirty-four, not seventeen. He had responsibilities. He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t keep wondering what it would be like to date Beatrice.
If he didn’t manage to sort his head out, he thought grimly, he’d need to have a word with whoever was doing the roster next month, to make sure he and Beatrice weren’t working together.
* * *
Late on Thursday afternoon, Beatrice had to steel herself slightly when the paramedics brought in a woman who’d taken an overdose.
‘I brought her in for the same thing, a month ago,’ Dev, the lead paramedic, told Beatrice quietly. ‘And another team brought her in a fortnight ago.’
‘Three times in a month.’ Beatrice frowned. ‘I’ll check her notes to see if anyone’s referred her for counselling, but if they haven’t then I definitely want to bring the psych team in. She needs help with the root cause. We can’t just patch her up and send her home so she takes another overdose and comes back in again. That isn’t fair to anyone.’
Dev spread his hands. ‘Mental health. You know the situation there as well as I do.’
‘Overstretched. I know.’ Beatrice sighed. ‘But I’ll push as much as I can for her. Thanks for your help, Dev.’
She went over to the bed. ‘I’m Beatrice, and I’m part of the team looking after you today,’ she said to her patient. ‘May I call you Sally?’
The young woman nodded.
‘The paramedics tell me you took an overdose of paracetamol.’
Sally hunched her shoulders, and Beatrice sat down and took her hand. ‘I’m not here to judge you, Sally, I’m here to help you. But I do need to know how many tablets you took, when, and over how long a period, so I know the best way to look after you.’
‘A dozen tablets,’ Sally whispered. ‘An hour ago.’
‘What did you take them with?’ Beatrice asked, really hoping that alcohol wasn’t involved.
‘Water.’
That was one good thing; she didn’t have to worry about complications from alcohol. ‘OK. Normally paracetamol’s safe to take as a painkiller, but if you take too much you can risk damaging your liver and your kidneys. I need to take some blood tests, and the results will tell me what the best treatment is for you. Is that OK?’
Sally nodded, and Beatrice took the bloods. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea or something while we’re waiting for the results?’
Sally shook her head. ‘I’m all right.’
‘I’ll need to see some other patients while I’m waiting for the results, but I’ll be back very soon to see you,’ Beatrice said. ‘If you’re worried about anything, just press this buzzer to call one of us and we’ll come in to see you, OK?’
Sally didn’t ask for help while Beatrice called the psych team and asked for an urgent referral, or while Beatrice checked a set of X-rays for Josh and dealt with a nasty gash on an elderly man’s arm where he’d slipped and knocked against a gatepost. But finally the blood test results came back, and Beatrice went into the cubicle where Sally was waiting quietly. The poor woman looked as if a huge weight was about to drop on her.
‘I’ve got the test results back,’ Beatrice said. ‘We do need to treat you, to stop any damage happening to your liver, so I’m going to give you a drug through a drip—that’s a line that goes straight into your vein. It means you’ll need to stay with us another day while we give you the drug. Is that OK with you?’
Sally looked worried again. ‘I felt so bad, last time. I was sick everywhere.’
‘This is a different drug from the one you had last time. It’s a special trial, but I used it in my last hospital and it’s really good,’ Beatrice said. ‘It means you’re less likely to have side effects, like being sick or itching. Tomorrow we’ll do another blood test to see how you’re doing, and we’ll be able to let you go home if we’re happy that there’s no damage to your liver.’
Sally bit her lip. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Beatrice squeezed her hand. ‘You really don’t have to apologise. You’re not well and it’s my job to make you better.’
‘I know you’re all busy here and you should be saving lives that matter, not bothering with me.’
‘We are saving a life—yours,’ Beatrice said gently. ‘You’re important, too.’
‘I know I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘We all make mistakes.’ And Beatrice had made this particular one herself. She could still remember how low she’d felt when she’d opened the box of paracetamol and popped the tablets out of their foil packaging. How hopeless.
‘It seemed like the only way out.’
Just as it had for Beatrice. ‘There’s always another way,’ she said, squeezing Sally’s hand again. ‘Though sometimes you need someone else to help you see it. Is there anyone we can call for you to let them know you’re here? Your family, a friend?’
‘Nobody.’
Beatrice remembered that feeling, too. Once she was out of Resus and in cubicles, she hadn’t wanted the emergency staff to call her husband or her family, because she knew they’d blame themselves for not picking up on the signs. And she hadn’t wanted to burden any of her friends with how low she was feeling. She’d just been grateful that she hadn’t been treated in her own department so she hadn’t had the sheer embarrassment of having to face them all afterwards.
‘I just don’t want to be here,’ Sally said, her voice shaking.
‘I know, sweetheart, but I really can’t let you go until you’re better,’ Beatrice said, still holding her hand. ‘I need to be sure you’re not going to collapse with liver damage.’
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Kate Hardy
One night of comfort…One unexpected miracle!Beatrice Lindford’s fresh start is abruptly derailed the moment she starts working with gorgeous single dad Dr Daniel Capaldi. He instantly ruffles her guarded feathers, but Beatrice must keep her mind on her new job and away from the temptation of Daniel’s charming yet sorrowful smile. Both try—and fail!—to keep their professional distance, and they soon find themselves unexpectedly bound by a tiny miracle…
One night of comfort...
One unexpected miracle!
Beatrice Lindford’s fresh start is abruptly derailed the moment she starts working with gorgeous single dad Dr. Daniel Capaldi. He instantly ruffles her guarded feathers, but Beatrice must keep her mind on her new job and away from the temptation of Daniel’s charming yet sorrowful smile. Both try—and fail—to keep their professional distance, and they soon find themselves unexpectedly bound by a tiny miracle.
KATE HARDY has always loved books, and could read before she went to school. She discovered Mills & Boon books when she was twelve, and decided that this was what she wanted to do. When she isn’t writing Kate enjoys reading, cinema, ballroom dancing and the gym. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com (http://www.katehardy.com).
Also by Kate Hardy (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
The Midwife’s Pregnancy Miracle
Mummy, Nurse…Duchess?
The Runaway Bride and the Billionaire
Christmas Bride for the Boss
Unlocking the Italian Doc’s Heart
Reunited at the Altar
Miracles at Muswell Hill Hospital miniseries
Christmas with Her Daredevil Doc
Their Pregnancy Gift
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Carrying the Single Dad’s Baby
Kate Hardy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07531-2
CARRYING THE SINGLE DAD’S BABY
© 2018 Pamela Brooks
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my editors, Sheila and Megan,
with love and thanks for being so patient with me!
Contents
Cover (#ue13a46fa-9ebb-5fc4-805b-290db04dce29)
Back Cover Text (#ufe978db6-1eba-515e-bfae-6e258952210b)
About the Author (#ue971e2b9-53f9-5270-868a-046d5683e371)
Booklist (#u33dc4b38-113c-5d7a-a497-21a5c5440b99)
Title Page (#u0a71e647-6735-5fe1-9c97-c6c1d890a0df)
Copyright (#u359716cc-afe0-5614-917f-411a5018e127)
Dedication (#u6e3d72aa-f4a5-5b13-ab2f-ab322c72aa10)
CHAPTER ONE (#u08e2deeb-7264-58cc-b17c-2a3ae4006396)
CHAPTER TWO (#u6d179ca1-7644-5474-a722-bb66ff8bd015)
CHAPTER THREE (#u053a6bd8-edea-547c-be75-4f2ca66488d9)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT.
The letters stood out, white on a blue background. Just the same as they had in the last hospital where Beatrice had worked.
Except at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital she would be getting a fresh start. This was a new place, where nobody knew about her past, so nobody could pity her. Not for her divorce, not for the baby, not for the way her life had totally imploded four years ago.
They’d all see her for who she was now. Beatrice Lindford, the new emergency consultant. Beatrice who was cool, calm and perfectly controlled. Who led her team from the front. And who’d baked brownies the night before to say hello to her new department.
She took a deep breath, pushed open the swing doors with her free hand, and walked into the reception area.
Michael Harcourt, the head of the department, was waiting for her.
‘Beatrice, lovely that you made it. Come and meet the team.’ He looked quizzically at her. ‘What’s in the boxes?’
‘Home-made brownies. Just my way of saying hello to everyone.’
‘You didn’t have to bring anything,’ he said with a smile, ‘but they’ll go down very well in the staff kitchen. Now, let me find someone to show you round... Ah, Josh.’ He called over one of the younger doctors. ‘Josh, I think you’re rostered in Resus with Beatrice, our new consultant, this morning. I’d like you to show her round before it all gets hectic.’
Was it her imagination, or was Josh looking at her slightly oddly?
‘Beatrice, this is Josh, one of our juniors. He’s a good lad, but don’t ever let him drive you anywhere—unless you don’t mind risking ending up with a tension pneumothorax, eh, Josh?’ Chuckling, Michael walked away.
Josh groaned. ‘Please don’t take too much notice of what the boss just said. My pneumothorax was months ago, and it was only because I wasn’t used to go-karting on ice and I took the corner too fast.’
‘Go-karting on ice?’ Beatrice raised an eyebrow. That sounded like the definition of insanity, to her.
‘Sam—he’s one of the registrars and you’ll meet him shortly—thought it would be a good team-building exercise,’ Josh explained. ‘And it was. It was great fun. Except I, um, crashed. And nobody’s ever going to let me forget it. Ever.’ He groaned again. ‘Even in the Christmas secret Santa last year, I got a modified model motorcycle.’
She smiled. ‘Oh, dear. So Sam’s a bit of a daredevil?’
Josh smiled back. ‘He used to be. He’s changed a bit, now he’s a dad.’
Babies.
Of course people in the department would have babies and small children. The same as they would anywhere she worked.
She wasn’t going to let it throw her. This was about her job, not her personal life.
‘Can we start with the staff kitchen so I can drop these off?’ She indicated the plastic boxes she was carrying.
‘Sure.’ He looked interested. ‘What’s in them?’
‘Brownies.’ The recipe they used at Beresford Castle that had actually got a write-up in one of the Sunday supplements, and made all the tourists come back for more. ‘I hope I made enough for everyone working in the department today.’
‘You made them yourself?’
‘Last night.’ With a bit of help from her niece and nephews.
‘That’s a lot of work. And it’s really nice of you.’
‘Just my way of saying hello to my new team,’ she said with a smile. ‘And I was planning on buying everyone a drink tonight after my shift, if you can maybe recommend somewhere. I’ve only just moved here, so I don’t really know the area yet.’
‘The Red Lion, just round the corner, is fairly popular,’ he said.
‘The Red Lion it is, then,’ she said.
Once they’d dropped the boxes of brownies in the staff kitchen, with a note she’d written earlier propped against them inviting the team to help themselves, Josh showed her round the department and introduced her to the team.
Everyone seemed friendly enough, but when a doctor strode out of cubicles, clearly ready to see his next patient, Josh suddenly looked awkward. ‘Um, and this is Daniel Capaldi, one of the registrars. Daniel, this is Beatrice Lindford, our new...’ His voice trailed off.
Why was Josh suddenly acting like a cat on a hot tin roof? Beatrice wondered. What was it about Daniel Capaldi that had made the junior doctor so nervous?
Quite apart from the fact that Daniel looked as if he could’ve graced the pages of a high-end glossy fashion magazine; she didn’t think she’d ever met anyone so good-looking in her entire life. He was tall enough for her to have to look up to him, with dark hair brushed back from his forehead—the type of hair that would curl when it was wet—dark eyes, the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man, and a mouth with an incredibly sensual curve.
He was breathtakingly beautiful.
Maybe he was the type who knew just how good-looking he was, and was used to women falling at his feet. Well, she didn’t care what her colleagues looked like. She just wanted them to be good at their jobs, communicate properly and work with her as a team to give their patients the best care possible. She wasn’t interested in anything else. Not any more.
‘Beatrice Lindford, the newest member of the team,’ she said coolly, and held out her hand to shake his.
What she hadn’t expected was the tingle all the way down her spine when Daniel took her hand and shook it firmly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d reacted so strongly to anyone.
Not good.
Really not good.
Because she didn’t want to get involved with anyone. Ever again.
* * *
Beatrice Lindford. The new consultant. The one who’d just been appointed to the job everyone had thought had Daniel’s name on it. A job that part of Daniel had wanted; but part of him hadn’t, because he knew he couldn’t give the department what it needed from him in that role at the same time as being a good single parent to Iain.
If things had been different with Jenny, he wouldn’t have hesitated to apply for the job.
But it was pointless dwelling on might-have-beens. The situation was as it was. Jenny was remarried now—to someone else. He had custody of Iain. And his son would always, always come first.
Beatrice wasn’t what Daniel had expected. She was tall, maybe four inches shorter than his own six foot two. Almost white-blonde hair that she wore tied back with a scarf at the nape of her neck. The bluest eyes he’d ever seen—the colour of the sky on a late summer evening. And an incredibly posh accent, which made her his polar opposite: clearly she came from a privileged background, whereas Daniel was the son of a teenage mum who’d been brought up mainly by his grandparents until his mother was able to cope with being a parent. They were worlds apart.
But the bit that really threw him was when he shook her hand. That handshake was meant to be businesslike, maybe even slightly on the cool side. Instead, it felt as if every single nerve ending in his body had just woken up. He’d never been so physically aware of anyone before.
Absolutely not.
Even if Beatrice Lindford was single, and even if she was interested in him, he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Iain was his world, and that was the way it was going to stay.
And he wanted a bit of distance between himself and Beatrice until he could get himself perfectly back under control and treat her just like any other member of the department, instead of behaving like a teenager who’d just felt the heady pull of sexual attraction for the first time in his life.
‘Welcome to the department, Ms Lindford,’ he said, giving her a cool nod. ‘Josh, shouldn’t you be in Resus?’
‘As should I,’ Beatrice said, narrowing her eyes slightly at him. ‘Michael Harcourt asked Josh to show me round and introduce me to everyone, and he’s been kind enough to do just that.’
He liked the fact that she’d stood up for the junior doctor. But he didn’t want to like Beatrice Lindford. He wanted to keep his distance from her, at least until he could get this unwanted attraction under control. ‘Indeed,’ he said.
‘There are brownies in the staff kitchen,’ she said. ‘Do help yourself.’
There was a touch of haughtiness to her voice. She sounded for all the world as if she’d just taken over their department. Which, he supposed, she sort of had, being their new consultant. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘And I’m buying drinks at the Red Lion after my shift,’ she said.
Drinks he definitely wouldn’t be going to. ‘Noted.’
‘I guess Josh and I had better get back to Resus.’
Daniel knew he hadn’t been particularly friendly to his new colleague, and he felt slightly guilty about that. But his response to her had flustered him, and right now there was no room in his life for anything other than his son. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, and turned away.
* * *
Daniel hadn’t been openly hostile, but there had definitely been something there. Beatrice couldn’t understand what the problem was. They’d never met each other before or even knew of each other by reputation. Or was Daniel just offhand like that with everyone, and that was why Josh had looked so awkward before he’d introduced them?
Not that she wanted to put the younger doctor in a difficult position by asking him outright. It wouldn’t be fair. Instead, she encouraged him to chatter on their way back to Resus. And then she didn’t have time to think about Daniel Capaldi when the paramedics brought in a patient. Dev, the lead paramedic, did the handover.
‘Mrs Jane Burroughes, aged sixty-seven, otherwise healthy until today when she slipped in the garden and banged her head on the rockery. She remembers blacking out but she was conscious when we arrived. We put a neck brace on and we think she’s fractured her cheekbone and her arm. I’m not happy about her eye, either,’ Dev said.
From the amount of blood on Jane Burroughes’s cheek, it was entirely possible she’d damaged her eye and they’d need to bring in a specialist.
‘Pain relief?’ Beatrice asked.
‘She refused it,’ Dev said. ‘I haven’t put a line in.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She introduced herself and Josh to Mrs Burroughes. ‘We’d like to make you a bit more comfortable while we check you over. I know you refused pain relief in the ambulance, but can I give you some pain relief now?’
‘I don’t like the way it makes me feel, woozy and sick,’ Mrs Burroughes said. ‘When I had my wisdom teeth out and they put stuff in my arm, I felt drunk for two days afterwards.’
‘I could give you some paracetamol?’ Beatrice suggested. ‘That won’t make you feel woozy, and it’ll take the edge off the pain. It won’t be as effective as a stronger painkiller, but you’ll feel a little bit more comfortable.’
Finally Mrs Burroughes agreed to have paracetamol.
‘We’ll need to do a CT scan of her neck,’ Beatrice said to Josh, ‘and call the ophthalmology team for their view on Mrs Burroughes’s eye.’
Thankfully the CT scan showed no problems with Mrs Burroughes’s neck, so they were able to remove the neck brace; the ophthalmology team was able to confirm that the laceration was fixable and Mrs Burroughes wasn’t going to lose her sight. Finally the X-ray showed that the break in Mrs Burroughes’s arm was clean and could be treated with a cast rather than surgery.
Beatrice had just finished treating her patient and arranged a handover to the ward when Sam Price came in.
‘Beatrice, it’s lunchtime,’ he said, ‘and Hayley—my wife, who’s coming back to work here part time next month—suggested meeting us in the canteen. Josh, are you coming with us?’
The younger doctor blushed. ‘I...um...’
Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Got a date?’
Josh nodded, and Sam patted his shoulder. ‘Just be yourself and don’t worry. She’ll adore you.’
Sam took Beatrice to the canteen. ‘So how was your first morning?’ he asked.
‘Fine.’ Apart from Daniel Capaldi. Not that she was going to let herself think about him. ‘Josh is a sweetie.’
‘He’s a nice lad. Though I feel a bit guilty because—well, I assume you must’ve heard about the staff day out I organised?’ Sam asked.
‘Go-karting on ice, you mean?’
‘It’s great fun,’ he said with a grin. ‘But I’m a reformed character now. No bungee-jumping, no go-karting on ice and no abseiling—well, unless it’s for work.’
‘Abseiling at work?’ Beatrice couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’m not sure that’s part of the average Emergency Department’s duties.’
He laughed back. ‘It can be, if it’s a MERIT team job, but don’t tell Haze because she worries.’
‘Got you.’
Hayley Price was waiting for them at the entrance to the canteen. Sam greeted her with a kiss. ‘Beatrice, this is Hayley; Hayley, Beatrice.’ He smiled. ‘And this gorgeous little bundle is Darcie.’ He scooped the baby out of the lightweight pram, and the baby cooed at him and pulled his hair.
‘Lovely to meet you, Beatrice, and welcome to Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital,’ Hayley said. ‘So how has your first day in the department been?’
‘Great. Everyone’s been lovely.’ Almost everyone. She wasn’t going to make a fuss.
‘They’re a good bunch,’ Hayley said.
‘She’s a good one, too,’ Sam said. ‘Our kitchen’s full of the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. Did you spend all last night baking them, Beatrice?’
She smiled. ‘No, and I had a bit of help. Make sure you grab one for Hayley.’
By the time they’d bought their lunch and settled at a table, still chatting, Beatrice was feeling very much part of the team.
‘So you’re coming back part time next month?’ she asked Hayley.
Hayley nodded. ‘Much as I love my daughter, I miss work. Part time seemed like a good compromise.’
‘I agree,’ Beatrice said.
‘If you’d like a cuddle with Darcie, better get it in now because the whole department will swoop on her when we walk in,’ Sam said.
A cuddle with the baby.
Beatrice thought of her own baby, the stillborn daughter she’d held for a few brief minutes. What if that car hadn’t crashed into her? What if she hadn’t had the abruption, and Taylor had been born around her due date, alive?
But now wasn’t the time or place to think about it. None of that was Sam’s or Hayley’s fault. She forced herself to smile brightly and scooped the baby from Sam’s arms. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
‘You’re good with babies,’ Hayley said when Darcie promptly yawned and fell asleep.
Again, Beatrice shut the door in her head. ‘It comes from having three nephews and a niece. The youngest one’s four now.’ And how hard it had been to hold him. ‘But I’m an old hand at getting them to go to sleep.’
‘I’ll remember that and get you to teach me some tricks when Madam here starts teething,’ Hayley said. ‘Right. So, tell us all about you. Where did you train, where were you before here, do you have a partner and children...?’
‘Haze, give the poor woman a chance to breathe!’ Sam admonished, though he was smiling and looked as if he wanted to know the answers, too.
‘It’s fine. I trained at the Hampstead Free and I worked there until I came here,’ Beatrice said with a smile. The next bit was more tricky. Telling the whole truth would mean that her new colleagues would pity her as much as they had at the Hampstead Free, and she really didn’t want that. Better to keep it simple and stick to the bare bones. The facts, and no explanations. ‘No partner, no children.’ To make sure nobody would try any well-meaning matchmaking, she added, ‘And I’m concentrating very happily on my career.’ And now it was time to change the subject. ‘Can I ask you something confidential? I know I probably could’ve asked Josh, but I didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.’
‘Sure. Ask away,’ Hayley said.
‘It’s about Daniel Capaldi,’ Beatrice said.
Sam and Hayley exchanged a glance, looking slightly uneasy.
‘I knew there was something. What am I missing?’ Beatrice asked.
‘Daniel’s a nice guy,’ Sam said carefully.
What he wasn’t saying was obvious. Beatrice wasn’t afraid to put it into words. ‘But?’
Hayley blew out a breath. ‘There isn’t a tactful way to say it, but I get the impression you’re a straight-talker so I know you won’t take this the wrong way. Everyone thought his name was on the consultant’s job.’
‘So I’ve got his job and he resents me for it.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Sam said.
‘But probably. Anyone would feel that way, in his shoes.’ Beatrice bit her lip. ‘OK. Thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful what I say to him. I don’t want to rub it in and make him feel bad.’
‘At the end of the day, the management team chose you,’ Hayley said. ‘He’ll get over it.’
At least now Beatrice understood why Daniel had been a little snippy with her and less welcoming than other members of the team. She’d be careful with him—not patronising, but not throwing her weight around, either.
After Hayley scooped the sleeping baby out of Beatrice’s arms and transferred her to the pram, Beatrice enjoyed having lunch with them. Muswell Hill was a good place. She had the strongest feeling that she was going to be happy here.
‘It’s not just about work, though,’ Hayley said. ‘There’s the regular pub quiz between us, Maternity and Paediatrics. How’s your general knowledge?’
Beatrice thought of her brothers. ‘A bit obscure.’
‘Good. You’re on the team,’ Sam said. ‘There’s a team ten-pin bowling night in a couple of weeks—everything’s on the noticeboard in the staff kitchen, if you want to sign up. Oh, and we’re having a football morning in the park on Saturday. It’s not a serious thing, really just the chance for everyone to kick a ball around, but we do a pot-luck picnic thing afterwards. And, after trying your brownies this morning...’
Beatrice smiled. ‘Hint taken. OK. I don’t mind kicking a ball about. And I’ll make some more brownies.’
‘Excellent. I think you’re going to fit right in,’ Sam said with a smile.
‘Josh said the Red Lion’s the place to go, so I’m buying drinks after my shift today,’ Beatrice said. ‘If you can both make it, it’d be lovely to see you.’
‘That’s nice of you,’ Hayley said. ‘Thanks. We’ll be there.’
* * *
Back in the staff kitchen, as Sam had predicted, everyone wanted to cuddle baby Darcie. And people Beatrice hadn’t yet met patted her on the shoulder, welcomed her to the department, and thanked her for the brownies.
Daniel Capaldi was conspicuously absent; and Beatrice noticed that he didn’t come to the Red Lion with the rest of the team after their shift. She could understand that. If you were really disappointed at not getting a promotion everyone thought you’d earned, it would be hard to celebrate someone else getting the post instead.
But there was a strong chance she and Daniel would have to work together in the future, and she needed to be sure that they could do that and put the needs of their patients before any professional rivalry. As the more senior of them, it was up to her to sort it out.
There were two ways she could deal with this. She could either pretend it wasn’t happening and wait for Daniel to stop resenting her; or she could tackle the problem head on and come to some kind of understanding with him. She’d grown up with their family motto, tenacitas per aspera—strength through adversity—so the second option was the one the rest of the Lindfords would choose.
Tackling him head on it was.
The next day, she was in Cubicles and Daniel was in Resus. Just as Sam had done, the previous day, she slipped into Resus at lunchtime. Daniel was on his own, to her relief, and it looked as if he was writing up notes. ‘Dr Capaldi. Just the man I wanted to see,’ she said.
He gave her a cool look. ‘Something I can help you with, Ms Lindford?’
‘Yes. I’m buying you lunch.’
‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary.’
He was trying to fob her off? Well, she wasn’t put off that easily. ‘I rather think it is. You and I need a chat.’
‘Hardly.’
‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I’m not pulling rank, but I think there’s a problem and we need to sort it out rather than let it grow out of proportion.’
‘There isn’t a problem,’ he said.
‘Then have lunch with me.’
He looked reluctant.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to put arsenic in your coffee,’ she said. ‘Apart from anything else, I don’t have the licence to get hold of that grade of poison.’
He didn’t even crack a smile.
Taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until his teeth rattled wouldn’t achieve anything other than a temporary relief from frustration. She folded her arms to help her resist the temptation. ‘I could offer you a pair of boxing gloves, if that would make you feel better. Though I should probably make you aware that I could take you in the gym.’
He blinked. ‘You box?’
‘I box,’ she confirmed. Her personal trainer had suggested it, and boxing had been one of the things that had got her on the slow road back from rock bottom. ‘I might be a galumphing five foot ten, but I’m very light on my feet. I can do the whole Muhammed Ali thing. So. Your choice. Boxing gloves or lunch?’
‘Lunch. Because I’d never hit a woman.’
‘I wouldn’t have any qualms about hitting you in the ring,’ she said.
Was that a fleeting and grudging glimpse of respect she saw in his face?
‘But I think coffee night be more civilised,’ she said.
He didn’t make polite conversation on the way to the canteen, but neither did she. And although Daniel protested when she insisted on paying for his sandwiches, Beatrice gave him the look she reserved for patients who were drunk and obnoxious on a Saturday night and he backed off.
‘Thank you for lunch,’ he muttered when they sat down.
At least he had manners. Even if he wouldn’t look her in the eye. And that was going to change, too. She’d make him smile at her if it killed her.
‘Let’s put our cards on the table. I understand why you don’t like me. I got the job that everyone thought had your name written all over it. Of course you resent me.’
‘Not true,’ he said.
She scoffed. ‘You were the only person who didn’t take a brownie yesterday.’
‘Because I don’t like chocolate.’
That hadn’t occurred to her. But she hadn’t finished with her evidence. ‘And you didn’t come to my welcome drink after your shift.’
‘And you think that was because I’m sulking?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Everyone else thought my name was on that job. That’s the only bit you got right.’
She frowned. ‘So what’s your take on it?’
‘Not that it’s anybody’s business, but I didn’t actually apply for the job.’
She stared at him. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I didn’t,’ he confirmed. ‘Because I can’t give the department what it needs, right now. I’m a single dad, and my son’s needs come before the job. Always.’
She blew out a breath. ‘Fair enough. I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, you do now.’
‘Then I apologise for jumping to conclusions.’
* * *
Daniel hadn’t expected her to react quite like that. He’d expected her to go haughty on him, as she had the previous day.
And he hadn’t exactly been fair to her. He could’ve told her that he wasn’t going to her welcome drinks, and why. Instead, he’d chickened out and just avoided her.
He needed to put that right. ‘And I’m sorry for letting you think I resent you for taking my job.’
‘OK. So we’re saying now that the problem between us isn’t a problem.’
Oh, there was a problem, all right. His libido was practically sitting up and begging. But he was just going to have to ignore it. ‘There isn’t a problem,’ he lied. ‘Welcome to Muswell Hill.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And you didn’t have to buy me lunch.’
‘Call it in lieu of the drink you didn’t have last night,’ she said.
He inclined his head. ‘Then thank you.’ Polite, he could do.
‘So how old is your son?’ she asked.
‘Four.’ Was it his imagination, or did she just flinch?
Imagination, maybe, because then she smiled. ‘It’s a lovely age. My youngest nephew is four.’
She had a killer smile. If Daniel hadn’t known it was anatomically impossible, he would’ve said that his heart had just done a backflip. But, for Iain’s sake, he couldn’t act on the attraction he felt towards Beatrice Lindford. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into the little boy’s life—someone who might not stick around. Someone who was, to all intents and purposes, his boss. It would be too complicated. Inappropriate. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, not sure quite what to say to her. How to stop this from tipping over into personal stuff he didn’t want to share. Such as why he was a single dad.
‘Stating the obvious, but from your accent it sounds as if you’re from Scotland.’
‘Glasgow,’ he confirmed.
‘With an Italian surname?’
‘My great-grandparents were Italian.’ He paused. ‘And you’re posh.’
‘Yes. But I’m a girl and I’m the youngest, so I got to choose what I wanted to do.’
Meaning that her brother—or brothers—had been expected to go into the family business? But asking her would be too personal; and it would also mean she could ask him personal stuff that he didn’t want to answer. He backed off. ‘So you trained as a doctor.’
‘Here in London. What about you? Glasgow or here?’
‘Here,’ he said. And please don’t let her ask about his son.
‘So what made you pick emergency medicine?’ she asked.
Relief flooded through him. He could talk about work and why he did what he did. It wasn’t quite so personal, so it was easier to deal with. ‘I like the fact that we make a real difference, that we can save people.’ He paused. ‘You?’
‘Pretty much the same. Though we can’t save everyone.’
Again, there was an odd look on her face—as if she was talking about something personal. But he wasn’t going to ask. It was none of his business. Instead, he said, ‘We do our best. That’s all any of us can do. Strive to do our best.’
‘True.’
He finished his coffee. ‘Thank you for lunch. And for the chat.’
‘So we’re good?’
‘It won’t be a problem working together, if that’s what you mean.’ He’d already heard Josh singing her praises, saying that Beatrice was good with patients and she listened to the rest of the team. That was good. He hated it when senior colleagues went all arrogant. It was never good for the patients.
‘I’m glad. We don’t have to be friends,’ she said. ‘As long as we agree that our patients come first.’
‘That works for me,’ he said. ‘We’d better get back to the ward.’
‘OK.’ She swallowed the last of her own coffee. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER TWO (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
THE REST OF the week went smoothly; Beatrice still wasn’t rostered in the same part of the department as Daniel during their shifts, but at least he was civil to her if they happened to be in the staff kitchen at the same time.
On Saturday morning, she headed to the park for the team’s football day out. As Sam had requested, she made some brownies. Remembering that Daniel didn’t like chocolate, she also made flapjacks, as a kind of peace offering. Then again, Daniel might not be there.
She’d just added her offerings to the picnic table when Daniel turned up with a small boy in tow. Even if she hadn’t known that he had a four-year-old son, she would’ve known that the little boy was Daniel’s because they looked so alike. And she was faintly amused to discover that the little boy had a Glaswegian accent almost as strong as his father’s.
But what she hadn’t expected was that Daniel would look so gorgeous in a football kit. The tight-fitting T-shirt showed that he had good abs, and his legs were strong and muscular. He looked more like a model than a doctor, and she wasn’t surprised to see how many admiring glances were headed his way.
‘I didn’t think you’d be here today,’ Daniel said. ‘Or are you a football fan as well as a boxing fan?’
She pushed away the thought of getting hot and sweaty in a boxing ring with him. That really wasn’t appropriate. ‘Hayley and Sam said everyone turns up and has a huge picnic afterwards. I thought it might be a nice way to get to know the team outside work,’ she said.
Daniel shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Do you work with my daddy?’ the little boy asked.
‘I do,’ Beatrice confirmed.
He looked at her. ‘You’re really tall for a girl.’
‘Iain, don’t be rude,’ Daniel began.
‘It’s fine, and he’s right—I am tall.’ She smiled, and crouched down so she was nearer to the little boy’s height. ‘Is that better?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Hello. I’m Iain.’
‘I’m Beatrice.’ She held out her hand for him to shake.
He shook her hand, but frowned. ‘That’s a strange name.’
‘You can call me Bea, for short.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Like a buzzy bee?’
She couldn’t resist Iain’s charm and chutzpah. ‘Just like that,’ she said.
‘Hello, Bee. Are you going to play football?’
‘No, I’m just going to watch,’ she said.
‘I play football. Just like my dad,’ Iain told her proudly, puffing out his chest.
‘Then I’ll make sure I cheer really loudly when you score a goal,’ she said.
Although football really wasn’t her thing, she enjoyed chatting to Hayley on the sidelines, and dutifully clapped and cheered every time a goal was scored.
Iain was running past her, clearly intent on getting to the ball, when he tripped and fell over. Instinctively, she looked up to see where Daniel was: on the far side of the field.
Iain was on his knees, crying and shielding his arm.
What could she do but go over to him until his dad arrived and see if she could sort out the problem?
‘You’re lucky we’re all in the emergency department so we know just how to deal with things when people fall over,’ she said. ‘Where does it hurt, Iain?’
‘Here.’ He pointed to his elbow.
It was very obvious to her that he’d twisted his arm when he fell, so the ligament holding the radial bone in place had slipped, letting the bone dislocate. Given that he was so young, it would be easy to manipulate the bone back into place—but she also knew that it would hurt like mad, very briefly.
‘I need you to be super-brave for me, Iain,’ she said. ‘Do you like chocolate?’
‘Aye.’
‘OK. I can fix what’s wrong, but it means I have to touch your poorly arm and it’ll hurt for about three seconds. After that, it’ll stop hurting,’ she said. ‘I made some really special chocolate brownies you might like, so you can have one afterwards. I just need you to be brave for three seconds, that’s all. Can you do that for me?’
Iain sobbed, ‘I want my dad.’
‘And he’s running across the field towards you right now. He’ll be here really soon. But I really need to slip that bone back into place for you,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes and sing me a song, Iain.’
‘I don’t know any songs,’ he wailed, clearly too scared to be able to think.
‘I bet you know “The Wheels on the Bus”,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you sing it. And I want you to sing it really, really loudly. Can you do that?’
He nodded, his face wet with tears.
She started singing, and the little boy closed his eyes and began to sing along with her, very loudly and very out of tune. The perfect distraction, she hoped. One quick movement and she’d manipulated his arm to put the bone back into place.
Iain was halfway through yelling when he clearly realised that his arm had stopped hurting.
‘Oh. It doesn’t hurt any more,’ he said. ‘You fixed me!’
‘I did,’ she said with a smile.
* * *
Daniel arrived just as Iain flung his arms around Beatrice and hugged her. ‘Thank you, Bee!’
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘He fell over and dislocated his elbow. I’ve just manipulated it back, but we need to check his pulses and his range of movement.’ Just in case there was a problem and Iain needed an X-ray, Daniel knew.
His own heart was racing madly with fear for his child, but she’d been calm and sorted out the problem without any fuss. He’d do the same. It was what he’d trained all these years for: to be calm when there was an accident or an emergency.
‘Iain, can you move your arms for me and copy what I do?’ he asked.
‘Aye, Dad.’
He checked Iain’s pulses, which were fine, then talked Iain through a range of movements. The little boy copied every movement without flinching or stopping as if he was in pain. Everything seemed completely normal.
‘I hardly need to tell you what happens next,’ Beatrice said.
‘Pain relief if he needs it, put him in a sling for the rest of today to support his elbow, and if he stiffens up and doesn’t use his arm tomorrow take him in for an X-ray.’
She spread her hands. ‘Textbook perfect, Dr Capaldi.’
‘Thank you for looking after him,’ he said.
‘That’s what I’m here for. That,’ she said, ‘and chocolate brownies. I haven’t forgotten what I promised you, Iain.’
‘My dad doesn’t like chocolate. We never have chocolate brownies,’ Iain said.
‘Then your dad can go and finish playing football while you sit and eat brownies with me,’ she said.
‘I...’ Daniel looked at her, wanting to be with his son but not wanting to let the rest of the team down, either.
Beatrice shooed him back to the field. ‘He’ll be fine with me.’ And then she gave him the sassiest smile he’d ever seen, one that made him want to grab her and kiss her. Not good.
‘Trust me—I’m a doctor,’ she said.
It was the cheesiest line in the book. But he’d seen her at work and he’d heard others praising her, saying that she always put the patient first. And Iain seemed to like her. He gave her a speaking look, but headed back to the field. He played for another ten minutes, and then to his relief he was substituted by one of the nurses.
When he went back over to where the spectators were, Iain was chatting animatedly to Beatrice. And Beatrice had used the scarf from her hair to fashion into a sling.
‘Dad! You’re back!’
‘That’s my playing over for today,’ he said. ‘Thank you for looking after Iain. I’ll take over now.’
‘My pleasure. We’ve had a nice time, haven’t we, Iain?’ she asked.
‘She made me a special sling,’ Iain said. ‘Look.’
‘Very nice,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll wash it when we get home and get it back to you on Monday at work. And now we must let Ms Lindford get on, Iain.’
The little boy frowned. ‘But I like talking to Bee.’
‘She’s busy.’
Out of Iain’s view, she shook her head.
She wasn’t undermining him as a parent—he appreciated the fact she’d disagreed with him without actually saying so in front of his son—but the idea of spending time with her was dangerous. Right now Beatrice’s hair was loose, she was wearing denims cut off at the knee, a strappy top and canvas shoes; and she looked more approachable than she did at work in tailored trousers and a white coat. The way she looked right now, he could just imagine walking hand in hand with her in the sunshine and kissing her under a tree.
He didn’t want to walk hand in hand with anyone in the sunshine or kiss them under a tree, and that included Beatrice Lindford, he told himself sharply.
‘Five more minutes, Dad?’ Iain pleaded. ‘Please.’
Again, out of Iain’s view, she nodded.
Iain’s brown eyes were huge and pleading. How could he resist? ‘All right. Five more minutes.’
‘Bee makes the best chocolate brownies in the world,’ Iain said. ‘Even you would like them, Dad.’
‘I made flapjacks as well.’ She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘And don’t tell me that you don’t like oats. You’re a Scot.’
‘Aye, he is.’ Iain was all puffed up with pride. ‘And so am I.’
‘Peas in a pod, you two.’
But Daniel could see she was laughing with them, not at them.
‘Can I have some flapjacks, too, Bee?’ Iain asked.
‘That’s your dad’s call, not mine,’ she said, lifting her hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘Yes,’ Daniel said. ‘Though there’s a word missing, Iain Capaldi.’
‘Please,’ Iain said.
Daniel ended up trying a flapjack himself, and it surprised him. ‘That’s actually better than my grandmother’s—and don’t you dare tell your great-gran I said that, Iain,’ he added swiftly.
‘My great-granny makes the best ice cream in the world,’ Iain said. ‘Do you like ice cream, Bee?’
‘I do,’ Beatrice said with a smile, completely charmed by the way he pronounced his Rs.
‘You should come to Glasgow and try my great-granny’s special ice cream. It’s fab.’
‘Maybe sometime,’ Beatrice said.
Iain chattered away to her, and Daniel couldn’t help watching them. Iain was usually shy with strangers, so it was unusual for him to be so talkative. Maybe it was because Beatrice had reduced his dislocated elbow and stopped him being in such pain. Or maybe he was responding to her gentleness.
Against his better judgement, he was starting to like Beatrice Lindford. Too much for his own peace of mind. She was the first woman since Jenny he’d even thought about holding hands with, let alone anything else. Which made her dangerous.
Iain didn’t stop talking about her all the way home, either.
‘She looks like a princess,’ he said. ‘She’s got real golden hair.’
Hair that Daniel couldn’t get out of his head, now he’d seen it loose.
‘And it’s long.’
Yeah. Daniel had noticed.
‘Like the princess in the story Miss Shields told us in class. The one in the tower. Her hair was so long she could make it into a ladder. Ra...’ He paused, his forehead wrinkled in a frown as he tried to remember the princess’s name.
‘Rapunzel,’ Daniel supplied.
‘Aye. And she talks like the Queen, all posh.’
‘Yes.’
‘I like her. Do you like her, Dad?’
Awkward question. ‘I work with her,’ Daniel prevaricated.
‘She’s nice. Can she come for tea tonight?’
‘No, Iain. She’s busy.’
But his son wasn’t to be put off. ‘Next week, then?’
‘She might be busy.’
‘Ask her,’ Iain said. ‘Go on, Dad. Ask her. Please.’
‘Do you want to go and get pizza?’ Daniel asked, hoping to distract his son with a treat.
It worked. Until bedtime, when Iain started on about princesses again. ‘Do you think Bee’s married to a prince?’
Daniel had no idea, but maybe if Iain thought Beatrice was married he’d drop the subject. ‘Probably.’
‘Then why didn’t the prince come to play football today?’
Daniel loved his son dearly, but the constant questions could be exhausting. ‘Maybe he can’t play football.’
‘Oh.’ Iain paused. ‘If she’s a princess, do you think she knows the Queen?’
‘I don’t know, Iain.’
‘Mum likes Prince Harry.’
Daniel tamped down his irritation. ‘I know.’
‘Do you think Bee knows Prince Harry?’
‘I think,’ Daniel said gently, ‘it’s time for one more story and then sleep.’
He just hoped his son wouldn’t say anything about Beatrice next weekend, when Iain was due to stay with his mother. The last thing he wanted was Jenny quizzing him about whether he was dating again. He knew she still felt guilty about what had happened between them, and that if he started seeing someone it would make her feel better, but he really didn’t want to date anyone. He wanted to concentrate on bringing Iain up and being the best dad he could be.
On Sunday, Iain seemed to have forgotten about his new friend. But then on Monday Daniel picked up his son from nursery, and Iain handed him a picture: a drawing of a woman with long golden hair and a crown, a man playing football and a small boy with red lines coming out of his elbow.
‘It’s Bee making me better on Saturday,’ he announced, although Daniel had already worked that out for himself. ‘I drawed it for her. Can you give it to her tomorrow?’
‘All right.’
Iain beamed. ‘I know she’ll like it.’
‘I’m sure she will.’ If she didn’t, he’d fib and tell Iain that she loved it. No way was he going to let his little boy be disappointed.
* * *
Beatrice was in the staff kitchen when he walked in, the next day. ‘Are you busy at lunchtime?’ he asked.
She looked surprised, then answered carefully. ‘It depends what it’s like in Resus.’
‘OK. If you’re not busy, I need to talk to you—and lunch is on me.’
She shook her head. ‘There’s no need.’
‘I want to say thank you for rescuing Iain on Saturday. His arm’s fine, by the way.’
‘Good, but really there’s no need to buy me lunch. I just did what anyone else would’ve done because I was the nearest one to him when it happened. Though thank you for the offer.’
‘Can I just talk to you, then?’ He really didn’t want to give her the picture in front of everyone.
She nodded. ‘We’ll go halves on lunch.’
‘Good.’
Daniel switched into work mode, and managed to concentrate on his patients for the morning: two fractures, a badly sprained ankle and an elderly woman who’d had a TIA and whom he admitted for further testing. He had no idea how busy Resus had been, but at lunchtime Beatrice appeared. ‘Are you OK to go, or do you need a bit of time to finish writing up notes?’
‘I’m OK to go,’ he said.
He waited until they were sitting in the canteen before handing her the envelope.
‘What’s this?’ she asked.
‘Iain asked me to give you this,’ he said.
She opened the envelope, looked at the picture and smiled. Her blue eyes were full of warmth when she looked at him. ‘That’s lovely—me, him and you at the team football day on Saturday, I’m guessing?’
He nodded.
‘Tell him thank you, I love it, and I’m going to put it on my fridge, right next to the picture Persephone drew me of her horse at the weekend.’
‘Persephone?’ Daniel asked.
‘My niece.’
He blinked. ‘So your family goes in for unusual names.’
She nodded. ‘My generation’s all from Shakespeare—Orlando’s the oldest, then Lysander, then me.’ She spread her hands. ‘It could’ve been worse. My mother could’ve called me Desdemona or Goneril. And, actually, Beatrice is Shakespeare’s best female character, so I’m quite happy to be named after her.’
Her accent alone marked her out as posh. The names of her brothers and her niece marked her out as seriously posh. And had she just said that her niece had a horse? Posh and rich, then.
Then he realised what he’d said. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude about your name. We just have...simpler names in my family.’
‘Then you’d approve of Sandy’s choices—George and Henry.’
‘Sandy?’
‘Lysander.’ She smiled. ‘Mummy’s the only one who’s allowed to call him that. Anyone else gets his evil glare and never dares do it again.’
‘So Persephone is your oldest brother’s daughter, then?’
She nodded. ‘We call her Seffy, for short. And her older brother is Odysseus.’
‘Odysseus.’ Who wouldn’t have lasted three seconds in the playground at Daniel’s school. Why on earth would you call a child Odysseus?
As if the question was written all over his face, Beatrice explained, ‘Orlando studied classics. So did his wife. They wanted to use names from Greek mythology for their children—and their dogs.’ She grinned. ‘They have a black Lab called Cerberus—although he only has one head, he barks enough for three and it drives Mummy crackers.’
She called her mother ‘Mummy’? Posher still. Beatrice Lindford was way, way out of his league.
Not that he was thinking of asking her out.
The attraction he felt towards her needed to be stifled. The sooner, the better.
She looked at the drawing again. ‘Why am I wearing a crown?’
‘Iain says you talk like the Queen and you’ve got hair like a princess, so he’s decided you must be a princess and therefore you also know the Queen and Prince Harry.’
She laughed. ‘That’s cute.’
‘I tried to tell him you’re not a princess.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Are you sure? Because... Well...’
‘Because I have a posh accent and most of my family have unusual names? That’s a bit of a sweeping generalisation. It’d be like me saying you’re from Glasgow so everything you eat must be fried.’
‘True, and I didn’t mean to be rude.’
* * *
Beatrice definitely wasn’t going to tell Daniel that she had grown up in a castle. Or that actually her father was a viscount, making her family minor royalty. He didn’t need to know any of that. All he needed to know about her was that she was a doctor, and she was good at her job.
‘Apology accepted. And I love Iain’s drawing.’ She smiled at him. ‘He’s a nice boy.’
‘And he hasn’t stopped talking about you, or asking when you can come to tea. I’ve told him you’re busy and you’re probably married to a prince.’ Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what started all the Prince Harry stuff. His mum likes Prince Harry.’
So Daniel had clearly split up from his partner rather than being a widower. It was unusual for a dad to have custody of the child, but asking him about the situation felt like prying. ‘Prince Harry is gorgeous,’ she said. ‘Your wife has good—’ She stopped dead. Uh-oh. Good taste. That was tantamount to saying that she fancied Daniel.
Which she didn’t.
Well, a little bit.
Well, quite a lot.
But things were complicated. She had the job he claimed he hadn’t applied for but which everyone thought had had his name on it. He had a son who was clearly the focus of his life, and dating would be tricky for him. Plus she didn’t want to tell him about her past and see the pity in his face.
Better to keep this professional.
‘Good taste in princes,’ she finished.
‘I’ll tell her that. Because Iain’s going to tell her all about you when he sees her this weekend.’ He sighed. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much a four-year-old boy can talk.’
Or girl. She thought of Taylor and her heart squeezed. Would her little girl have been a chatterbox?
Not here. Not now.
‘Oh, I would. George could talk the hind leg off a donkey. He’s four,’ she said. A month younger than Taylor would’ve been. And how hard it had been to walk into her sister-in-law’s hospital room and hold that baby in her arms for the first time. She’d had to force herself to smile and hold back the tears. ‘George is the youngest of my nephews, and his big thing is dinosaurs. You wouldn’t believe how many complicated names he can pronounce. Give him a bucket of wooden bricks and he’ll build you a stegosaurus in two minutes flat.’
‘Iain loves dinosaurs, too. And rockets. My mum painted a mural in his bedroom of dinosaurs in a rocket heading for the moon, and he loves it.’
‘I bet.’ She glanced at her watch, knowing that she was being a coward and cutting this short. But she couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved with Daniel Capaldi and his son. ‘Better get back to the ward. Please thank Iain for his drawing. It’s lovely.’
‘I will.’ He looked relieved, as if she’d let him off the hook.
So did that mean he felt this ridiculous attraction, too?
Well, even if he did, they weren’t going to act on it. They were going to be professional. Keep things strictly business between them. And that was that.
CHAPTER THREE (#uf6fe56d3-ee73-5743-8a67-de2d8778a848)
OVER THE NEXT couple of days, Daniel’s determination to keep things strictly professional was sorely tested, particularly when he and Beatrice were rostered on together in Resus.
Their first patient of the day was Maureen Bishop, an elderly woman who’d slipped and fallen backwards off the patio, and was badly injured, enough for the air ambulance to bring her in.
‘Thankfully her neighbour had arranged to pop round for a cup of tea, couldn’t get an answer and went round the back of the house and found her,’ the paramedic from the air ambulance explained. ‘She was unconscious, so the neighbour called the ambulance—who called us to bring her in. She’s come round now, but she’s got a nasty gash in the back of her head from falling against a pot, plus fractured ribs, and we’re a bit worried she might have a crack in her skull or a bleed in her brain.’
‘Have you given her any pain relief?’ Beatrice asked.
The paramedic nodded and gave her full details. ‘We’ve put her on a spinal board with a neck brace.’
‘Great. Has anyone managed to get in touch with her family?’
‘Yes. Her daughter’s on the way in.’
‘That’s good.’ She went over to the trolley with Daniel. ‘Hello, Mrs Bishop, I’m Beatrice and this is Daniel,’ she said. ‘We’re looking after you today. May we call you Maureen?’
‘Yes, love,’ Maureen said.
‘Can you remember what happened?’
The elderly woman grimaced. ‘I slipped and fell.’
‘Can you remember blacking out, or do you have any idea how long you were unconscious?’ Beatrice asked.
‘No,’ Maureen whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’
Beatrice squeezed her hand. ‘No need to apologise. You’ve had a nasty fall. I’m going to send you for a scan because we need to check out that bump to your head, and also for X-rays so we can have a better look at your ribs, because we think you might have broken a few. Your daughter’s on her way.’
‘I didn’t want to worry her. I told them not to call her at work,’ Maureen said.
‘If you were my mum,’ Beatrice said gently, ‘then I’d want to know you’d been taken to hospital. I’d be more upset if they didn’t call me. And I’m betting it’s just the same for your daughter.’
The CT scan showed a bleed to the brain; by the time Beatrice had liaised with the neurology team and persuaded them to admit Maureen, her daughter Jennifer had arrived.
‘What happened?’ Jennifer asked.
‘Your mum slipped off the patio and banged her head against a pot. We know she was unconscious for a while, but not for how long. Fortunately her neighbour found her and called the ambulance,’ Daniel explained.
‘We sent your mum for a scan and X-rays,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’m pleased to say there’s no evidence of any bones broken in her neck, so we can take the spinal collar off now, but she has fractured a couple of ribs, and when she hit her head it caused a bleed in her brain. She seems fine at the moment, but a bleed is a bit like a stroke in that sometimes it takes a few days for us to see what’s happened. We’re going to admit her to the neurology ward, so she’s going to be monitored for the next day or so.’
‘But she’s going to be all right? She’s not going to die?’
‘She’s holding her own at the moment,’ Beatrice said, taking Jennifer’s hand and squeezing it, ‘but we want to keep an eye on her in case that bang on the head causes a problem. She’ll be in good hands and we can treat her straight away if anything happens.’ She smiled at Jennifer. ‘Your mum was a bit worried about the paramedics calling you at work.’
‘I got someone to cover my class,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’d be more upset if they hadn’t called me.’
‘That’s exactly what I told her,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’ll take you through now. It’s going to look a bit scary because your mum’s on a spinal board with a neck collar on, but that’s absolutely standard when someone’s had a fall and we think there might be any damage to the back or the neck. I’ll let you say hello to her, and then we’ll take off the collar and make her a bit more comfortable before she goes up to the ward.’
* * *
It was the first time Daniel had worked with Beatrice, and he could see for himself why Josh had sung her praises. Beatrice was very clear when she was managing Resus; everyone knew what they needed to do, and she was completely approachable. Josh had said that one of the nurses hadn’t quite understood her instructions, the other day, and Beatrice had taken the time afterwards to go through the case, explaining exactly why she’d made certain decisions. And he really liked the way she was calm and kind to their patients.
The more Daniel worked with her, the more he liked her.
And, worse still, the more attracted he was to her. He couldn’t seem to get a grip and push the unwanted feelings aside. Instead, he found himself wondering how soft her hair would be against his skin, and how her arms would feel around him. How her mouth would feel against his own.
For pity’s sake. He was thirty-four, not seventeen. He had responsibilities. He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t keep wondering what it would be like to date Beatrice.
If he didn’t manage to sort his head out, he thought grimly, he’d need to have a word with whoever was doing the roster next month, to make sure he and Beatrice weren’t working together.
* * *
Late on Thursday afternoon, Beatrice had to steel herself slightly when the paramedics brought in a woman who’d taken an overdose.
‘I brought her in for the same thing, a month ago,’ Dev, the lead paramedic, told Beatrice quietly. ‘And another team brought her in a fortnight ago.’
‘Three times in a month.’ Beatrice frowned. ‘I’ll check her notes to see if anyone’s referred her for counselling, but if they haven’t then I definitely want to bring the psych team in. She needs help with the root cause. We can’t just patch her up and send her home so she takes another overdose and comes back in again. That isn’t fair to anyone.’
Dev spread his hands. ‘Mental health. You know the situation there as well as I do.’
‘Overstretched. I know.’ Beatrice sighed. ‘But I’ll push as much as I can for her. Thanks for your help, Dev.’
She went over to the bed. ‘I’m Beatrice, and I’m part of the team looking after you today,’ she said to her patient. ‘May I call you Sally?’
The young woman nodded.
‘The paramedics tell me you took an overdose of paracetamol.’
Sally hunched her shoulders, and Beatrice sat down and took her hand. ‘I’m not here to judge you, Sally, I’m here to help you. But I do need to know how many tablets you took, when, and over how long a period, so I know the best way to look after you.’
‘A dozen tablets,’ Sally whispered. ‘An hour ago.’
‘What did you take them with?’ Beatrice asked, really hoping that alcohol wasn’t involved.
‘Water.’
That was one good thing; she didn’t have to worry about complications from alcohol. ‘OK. Normally paracetamol’s safe to take as a painkiller, but if you take too much you can risk damaging your liver and your kidneys. I need to take some blood tests, and the results will tell me what the best treatment is for you. Is that OK?’
Sally nodded, and Beatrice took the bloods. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea or something while we’re waiting for the results?’
Sally shook her head. ‘I’m all right.’
‘I’ll need to see some other patients while I’m waiting for the results, but I’ll be back very soon to see you,’ Beatrice said. ‘If you’re worried about anything, just press this buzzer to call one of us and we’ll come in to see you, OK?’
Sally didn’t ask for help while Beatrice called the psych team and asked for an urgent referral, or while Beatrice checked a set of X-rays for Josh and dealt with a nasty gash on an elderly man’s arm where he’d slipped and knocked against a gatepost. But finally the blood test results came back, and Beatrice went into the cubicle where Sally was waiting quietly. The poor woman looked as if a huge weight was about to drop on her.
‘I’ve got the test results back,’ Beatrice said. ‘We do need to treat you, to stop any damage happening to your liver, so I’m going to give you a drug through a drip—that’s a line that goes straight into your vein. It means you’ll need to stay with us another day while we give you the drug. Is that OK with you?’
Sally looked worried again. ‘I felt so bad, last time. I was sick everywhere.’
‘This is a different drug from the one you had last time. It’s a special trial, but I used it in my last hospital and it’s really good,’ Beatrice said. ‘It means you’re less likely to have side effects, like being sick or itching. Tomorrow we’ll do another blood test to see how you’re doing, and we’ll be able to let you go home if we’re happy that there’s no damage to your liver.’
Sally bit her lip. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Beatrice squeezed her hand. ‘You really don’t have to apologise. You’re not well and it’s my job to make you better.’
‘I know you’re all busy here and you should be saving lives that matter, not bothering with me.’
‘We are saving a life—yours,’ Beatrice said gently. ‘You’re important, too.’
‘I know I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘We all make mistakes.’ And Beatrice had made this particular one herself. She could still remember how low she’d felt when she’d opened the box of paracetamol and popped the tablets out of their foil packaging. How hopeless.
‘It seemed like the only way out.’
Just as it had for Beatrice. ‘There’s always another way,’ she said, squeezing Sally’s hand again. ‘Though sometimes you need someone else to help you see it. Is there anyone we can call for you to let them know you’re here? Your family, a friend?’
‘Nobody.’
Beatrice remembered that feeling, too. Once she was out of Resus and in cubicles, she hadn’t wanted the emergency staff to call her husband or her family, because she knew they’d blame themselves for not picking up on the signs. And she hadn’t wanted to burden any of her friends with how low she was feeling. She’d just been grateful that she hadn’t been treated in her own department so she hadn’t had the sheer embarrassment of having to face them all afterwards.
‘I just don’t want to be here,’ Sally said, her voice shaking.
‘I know, sweetheart, but I really can’t let you go until you’re better,’ Beatrice said, still holding her hand. ‘I need to be sure you’re not going to collapse with liver damage.’
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