Where had this new poignant ache in her heart sprung from?
Because she’d never been loved the way Andrew loved Emmy?
Yet, she amended firmly. Okay, it hadn’t happened so far but surely there was someone out there who could love her like that? One day. Someone who would trust her and care about her and want to protect her and…
…and be there if she got her trousers stuck around her ankles and hit her head on the side of the bath!
Dismayed at the way she seemed intent on pulling herself down, Alice tugged the plug from the bath and climbed out. She dried herself, wrapped her hair in a towel and then put on the warmest pair of pyjamas she could find. The dark blue ones with yellow stars and moons all over them. Ancient flannelette things her gran had given her years ago. A dressing gown was not something Alice had ever bothered acquiring, but Gran’s shawl decorated the back of the small couch in her sitting room so she wrapped that around her shoulders to sit in front of the stove and comb conditioner through her hair.
A long and boring chore, given its length, but it was essential if she wanted to keep any kind of control over her curls. And it was relaxing once the worst of the tangles were gone. Alice kept combing, hoping the heat would dry it quickly. Again and again she pulled the wide-toothed comb from her crown to the ends of her hair that reached almost to her waist. The action, combined with the warmth of the stove, was hypnotic. She had no idea how long she sat there. Or when she dropped the comb into her lap. Or how her arms had gone around herself again in an unconscious, tactile reminder of what was filling her mind.
That moment.
The desire to not only be loved by someone that much but to be loved by someone like Andrew.
No. By Andrew himself.
Fantasy was another drug. Powerful and compelling. So consuming that when Jake’s head rose sharply and he emitted a low warning growl Alice leapt to her feet, allowing no time to remind herself how safe she knew this haven to be. The comb clattered to the wooden floorboards and the shawl slipped from her shoulders as her heart started to pound. The knock on the door a second or two later echoed the thumping behind her ribs.
‘It’s okay, Jake,’ she said reassuringly. ‘I know who it is.’
There was only one person it could be at this time of night, on a property that was so far away from any main roads. But why had he come? Was something wrong with Emmy? Was she showing some nasty after-effect from her near drowning? Aspiration pneumonia, perhaps?
Alice pulled open the door, letting in a blast of frosty air and revealing a slightly out-of-breath man.
‘What is it?’ she questioned. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ Andrew’s breath was coming out in white puffs.
‘But you’ve been running!’
‘I don’t want to leave Em for too long.’
‘Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine. Fast asleep.’ Andrew held up what looked like a walkie-talkie radio. ‘I’m well within range if she wakes up and calls and it only took me ninety seconds to run here.’
‘But…why?’
‘I had to come.’ Andrew was wearing his jacket but his hands were bare. He rubbed them together, obviously cold. The night air was still rushing into the cottage and Alice was suddenly aware of the nip on her bare toes.
She shivered. ‘You’d better come in, then.’
Andrew hesitated for a moment. He was staring at her loose, still damp hair. His gaze travelled to her bare feet and must have taken in the pyjamas on the way.
‘I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that you might be getting ready for bed.’
‘I’m not.’ Alice tried to ignore the heat her cheeks were generating. ‘I haven’t even had dinner yet. Look, come in. I need to shut this door before we turn my house into a fridge.’
Alice stepped back and Andrew followed. She shut the door. Jake eyed their visitor with deep suspicion.
‘I had to come and thank you,’ Andrew said solemnly. ‘And Jake.’
He looked down at the dog glued to Alice’s leg and then, to her astonishment, he crouched so that his face was level with Jake’s.
‘You saved Emmy,’ he told the dog. ‘You are the best dog in the entire world.’
Jake looked up, caught the approving curl of Alice’s lips and then he eyed Andrew again. His tail waved in a single wag. Andrew held out his hand and Jake stretched his neck to sniff his fingers. The tail moved again and Alice felt the chill as her dog deserted her leg to step closer to Andrew and accept a scratch behind his ears.
Alice stepped closer to the stove. She eyed the shawl puddle on the floor but it was embarrassing enough to be caught wearing old night-sky pyjamas. To don a homemade, multi-coloured creation would be even more bizarre.
‘And you.’ Andrew straightened with an easy, smooth motion. He walked towards Alice and held out his hand again. ‘You saved my daughter.’
How weird, to be offered a handshake. Except, when Alice accepted, her hand wasn’t shaken. Andrew took it in both of his and clasped it firmly.
‘There are no words,’ he said softly, ‘that could tell you how grateful I am.’
He didn’t need words. Alice could feel it. Like a miniature version of the circle his arms had created earlier. And she could feel her eyes widening with the wonder of it. The power.
She couldn’t hold his gaze because it was too much. The longing that stirred deep within her was so sharp it was unbearable. She had to break the contact. To look away and pull her hand free.
‘There’s no need to say anything,’ she managed. ‘I…understand.’ She dragged in a new breath. ‘And I need to apologise. It would never have happened if I hadn’t said what I did and—’
‘No,’ Andrew interrupted. ‘I—’
Alice shook her head, overriding the interruption. She had to finish what she was saying.
‘And I wouldn’t have done it. I was upset but I hate gossip even if it’s true. There’s no way I would spread rumours that I know have no basis in truth.’
She risked another glance at Andrew to find him looking startled. As though what she’d just said was hard to take in. His steady gaze was penetrating.
‘Thank you,’ he said slowly. After a long pause, he spoke again. ‘And I need to tell you that I never believed you took those drugs. But—’
He seemed to be struggling to find an explanation. Or possibly an apology, but it wasn’t necessary. Alice could see how sincere he was and she could feel the weight of mistrust already starting to slide from her shoulders.
‘You did what you had to do at the time,’ she offered. ‘I understand.’
Her acceptance didn’t seem to be enough, however. Andrew was frowning now. He opened his mouth but, instead of him making a sound, the radio transmitter in his hand crackled into life. They both heard a tiny muffled cry and then some words, too mumbled to be comprehensible.
‘She’s just talking in her sleep,’ Andrew said.
But that intent look had gone from his face. His attention was diverted.
‘Maybe you should go back,’ Alice suggested. ‘In case she’s waking up.’
The single nod confirmed that she had read Andrew’s thoughts, but he hesitated as Alice opened her door, in the same way he had before coming in. She thought he was about to say something else, but then he simply gave her another nod and disappeared into the night.
The braid was back again this morning, of course, but Andrew couldn’t look at that rope of hair without thinking of how it had looked last night, cascading over Alice’s shoulders in a ripple of deep chestnut with copper sparkles from the light. Hopefully, the awareness was mainly due to having to think about hair on his patient.
Seven-year-old Sean had ridden his bike under a low-hanging tree branch and given himself a decent scalp laceration. Andrew was using hair ties rather than sutures to close it. He selected just a few hairs on each side of the cut and tied the first half of the knot to draw the skin together.
‘Bit
of glue, thanks, Alice.’
She leaned closer to dab a spot of tissue adhesive to the top of the knot. ‘You’re being very good, keeping still like this, Sean.’ Then she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she glanced up. ‘You didn’t want gloves?’
Andrew shook his head as he completed the knot. ‘There’s no bleeding now.’ He started the procedure again at the centre of the laceration. ‘And it’s too hard to pick up tiny bunches of hair with gloves on. I can’t feel it properly.’
Explaining his lack of basic personal protection equipment was enough to make him more aware of the feel of the child’s hair between his fingers.
Enough to make him wonder whether Alice’s hair would feel this silky. Not that he’d want to be holding a piece the size of fishing line, mind you. No. He’d want to bury his fingers in it and crumple it against her head while he positioned it perfectly in order to meet his kiss.
‘Will it hurt?’
‘Sorry?’ What Andrew had flitting through the back of his mind wasn’t likely to hurt at all. Quite the opposite!
‘When he combs his hair?’ Sean’s mother was looking anxious.
Andrew finished the last knot. ‘He’ll need to be careful not to catch the knots with the comb. Don’t wash his hair for five days and, when you do, just rub gently over the knots. If they’re still there in ten days, you can cut them out.’
‘Can I have a bandage?’ Sean asked.
‘You don’t need one,’ Alice told him. ‘We put special glue on that’s going to keep it nice and clean. Like superglue.’
‘You superglued my head back together? Cool!’
‘You can tell them all about it at school.’ Andrew smiled. ‘No headache?’
‘Nah, I’m good. Can I ride my bike again later?’
‘Only if you’re wearing your helmet,’ his mother said with a sigh. ‘Like you’re supposed to do.’
Sean was still looking up at his doctor. ‘What she said.’ Andrew nodded. ‘You be careful out there, young man. Stop giving your mum frights like that.’
Alice was nodding her agreement. She’d seen how pale Sean’s mother had been on arrival, still pressing a blood-stained towel to her son’s head. She turned to Andrew as Sean left the cubicle and the message in her eyes was as clear as if she’d spoken aloud.
Emmy’s safe now, it said. Try not to dwell on it.
The message stayed with him as he moved onto his next patient. Yes, Emmy was safe, but he couldn’t remember that without remembering what Alice had done without a moment’s hesitation—hurling herself into that river to rescue his daughter. She’d read his mind back there in Sean’s cubicle, too. His blood still ran cold, imagining what could have happened.
The horrific thoughts had kept him awake for much of last night. Along with the way Alice’s apology had made him feel.
Humble.
No. Make that ashamed.
It was a minute or two’s walk to get to the woman with abdominal pain who was now in the observation area but needed reassessment, and it gave Andrew a small window of time to think about it yet again. To try and justify his actions.
Okay, he’d told her he’d never believed she’d taken those drugs and that was good but he’d stopped short of telling her he knew she hadn’t.
He wanted to, but he couldn’t.
If there was any way he could prevent it, Andrew was never going to have anyone look at Emmy differently because her mother had been a drug addict. No one. Instinct told him that it would make no difference to Alice but he couldn’t guarantee that, could he? He couldn’t guarantee that she would never mention it to anyone else and, however small that risk was, it was one he really wasn’t prepared to take.
History seemed to be repeating itself in so many ways. Inadequate care for Emmy. A blackmail attempt by a woman. Doing what he had to do at the time. It had been the potential risk to others of being wrong that had made him unable to support Alice’s innocence regarding those missing drugs. It was exactly the same as not telling her the entire story now. He was protecting Emmy.
Alice would understand that last one if she ever found out, but why would she? He’d insisted on complete confidentiality from all medical personnel involved with Melissa’s treatment and the files were now out of circulation for ever.
The subject need never come up because he was just as prepared as Alice seemed to be to put the past and all its rumours behind them. They had a new bond now, through Emmy.
A bond that seemed destined to become stronger. Mid-afternoon, a trauma case came in that needed full-on attention. Andrew couldn’t leave the bedside of the man with a head injury from being knocked off his motorbike. He had to ask Alice to go and get whatever urgent message someone was trying to leave him by phone.
She came back as the staff had stepped away from the centre of the resuscitation area to allow X-rays to be taken of the patient’s neck, chest and pelvis.
‘It’s the after-school care facility,’ she informed Andrew. ‘Emmy’s running a bit of a temperature and has a runny nose. They think she should be taken home.’
Andrew stared through the heavy glass protecting them from an unwanted dose of radioactivity. ‘I can’t leave right now.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s probably just a cold.’
Alice was nodding but he could see the concern in her face.
‘I’ll get away as soon as I can but my shift doesn’t end till six.’ And he was needed again now. The X-ray technicians had finished. His patient needed treatment.
‘I’m finished now,’ Alice said. ‘I could pick Emmy up and take her home if you like.’
The offer was too good to pass up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I’d like to make sure she’s all right. After yesterday.’
‘Bring her in here if you’re at all worried.’
‘I will. Otherwise, I’ll take her home.’
‘Grab my key. They’re on the desk in my office. The house key is the big, old one. I’ll see you as soon as I can.’
‘Don’t rush. We’ll be fine.’ Alice was on her way out of the room.
‘Alice?’
She turned back.
‘Thank you.’
The fact that Andrew had accepted her offer of help with childcare had been unexpected.
He might not be able to tell her she was worthy of his trust, but actions spoke louder than words and this was a loud shout.
It hadn’t been a grudging acceptance because he had no choice, either. He’d thanked her, when it would have been perfectly acceptable to have turned his attention immediately back to his patient. And not only had he thanked her; Alice had been treated to a glimmer of one of those smiles.
Directed at herself!
It gave her a warm glow that might have negated the need to build a fire if it hadn’t been for poor little Emmy. The girl had red cheeks and overbright eyes and her nose was dripping like a tap. Her chest was clear, however, and her temperature only slightly raised. She wasn’t sick enough for it to be any more than a mild viral infection.
‘We’re going to give you some paracetamol and then a lovely warm bath,’ Alice told her charge. ‘Have you got pyjamas and slippers and a dressing gown?’
Emmy nodded. ‘Are you going to be my nanny now?’
‘Just for today, hon. Till Daddy gets home.’
‘Coz I’m sick?’
‘That’s right.’ Alice led the way into the kitchen to measure out the liquid paracetamol she’d brought from work. She lifted Emmy to sit on the old scrubbed pine table while she opened drawers to find a spoon.
‘I like being sick,’ Emmy announced.
‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’ Her small face was screwed up in distaste while the anti-inflammatory medicine was swallowed but then Emmy smiled at Alice. ‘I think I’m going to be sick for a long time.’
‘No, it’s just a cold, hon. You’ll be as right as rain in a day or two.’ Emmy’s scowl made her raise her eyebrows. ‘You don’t want to be s
ick for a long time, do you?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Why?’
‘Coz you’ll look after me.’
‘Ohh.’ Alice lifted the child down and then took her hand as they left the kitchen.
Oh, help. Emmy sure knew how to climb right into someone’s heart, didn’t she? Andrew had made a valid point the other day. Getting attached would make it much harder when she had to leave. For both Emmy and herself.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea. Except this was the first time she’d stepped inside this wonderful old house and Alice had to admit she was fascinated.
‘Where’s the bathroom, hon?’
‘Up the stairs. C’mon, I’ll show you.’
Alice was being tugged along by one hand. She ran the other up the smooth banister of golden wood, where each rail beneath was intricately carved with vines and flowers. Brass rods held a faded oriental-style carpet in place, which seamlessly extended to run the length of the gallery at the top.
‘This is my room.’
There were shelves full of books and toys scattered on the floor. A doll’s house in one corner and a blackboard easel where Emmy’s name had been beautifully written in different coloured chalks, presumably by her father. Alice turned her head and had to catch her breath.
‘You’ve got a four-poster bed!’
‘Daddy told them to leave it in the house. He said it was for me coz I’m his princess.’
Alice touched the drapes of white muslin. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I like it…’ Emmy nodded ‘…but I like Daddy’s better.’
‘Oh?’ Alice moved again in response to new tugging. She knew where Emmy was leading her now and had to squash the frisson of guilt that the thought of seeing Andrew’s bedroom gave her. She shouldn’t be doing this.
Single Dad Needs Nanny Page 21