The ugly callipers stuck out from the little cotton nightdress. The child’s hair was unbraided, flowing free round her red-blotched face, and her hands were tightly clenched fists. She was beyond responding to her father, her sobbing wild and terrified.
‘Let me try,’ Jess said, and walked toward them.
‘No.’ Niall moved his body in an instinctive act of defence. A hawk protecting his young. The child was pulled closer to him-but there was no comfort for her there.
‘I’m good with…with little ones,’ Jess told him. ‘Please…’ Ignoring his gesture of defence she stooped before Paige and held out her hands.
For a long moment Niall glared. His body was rigid with anger and his eyes were black with it-yet there was also a hint of helplessness. Of hopelessness. Of a man at the end of his tether.
‘Please,’ Jess said again and then, as though he had assented, she lifted the child away from her father and pulled her to her breast.
Jess didn’t say anything. Not a word. Instead, she gathered the sobbing child to her body and held her as close as it was possible for woman and child to be. Cradling the child against her, Jess walked over to a big armchair beside the stove. She sank into its depth, the terrified child still held tight.
‘Can you warm us some milk?’ she asked Niall briefly and then bent over the child.
She ignored Niall.
For ten long minutes she ignored Niall. Jess was conscious of him-totally conscious-of his dark, brooding presence as he heated the milk and watched the pair in the armchair. She had to put his presence away, though. There was only the child.
This was what she did with her wild creatures-her orphans-when she found them.
Their need was basic: warmth and contact with a substitute mother. No threats until they had learned to trust.
Normally, in the first few days after being found, Jess slipped the orphaned creatures into a pouch and carried them against her breast while she went about her work. This was what she’d have liked to do with this little one.
Impossible.
All she could do was to hold this tiny, sobbing girl close and wait.
Like this child, the animals when she first found them were rigid with terror. It was a matter of getting their trust.
A matter of time.
She held the tiny body close, the callipered legs dangling down but the little face held hard against her breast. Jess crooned softly to herself, a silly nonsense song that her mother had crooned to her long ago and which made no more sense now than it had then.
‘Hush, baby…Hush…’
Hush…
It took time but finally, finally, the terror receded. Jess felt the rigidity leave the child’s tiny frame and felt Paige slump against her, exhausted.
‘Hush, baby…Hush…’
Niall didn’t speak. He’d left the milk by the side of the stove, knowing instinctively that the time wasn’t right. Not yet. He moved around the kitchen, tidying, filling in time, watching Jess and Paige out of the comer of his eye.
Waiting.
The sobs ceased.
The child was limp in Jessie’s arms but her small hand had come up to clutch the blouse fabric at Jessie’s breast-and clutch it hard.
Like a lifeline.
Jess leaned over and kissed the top of Paige’s head.
‘I’d like some warm milk,’ Jess whispered softly. ‘What about you, Paige?’
There was no answer. There was a slight stiffening of the body and then Paige relaxed again as she grasped what Jessie had said. No threat there. Jess signalled Niall with her eyes and a mug of tepid milk was placed in her hands.
It seemed that Niall was taking a risk.
Trusting his daughter to a vet.
‘OK, Paige,’ Jess said gently. ‘Let’s get you wrapped round this.’ She held the cup to the child’s unprotesting lips and tilted.
And held her breath.
The child’s hand left the fabric of Jessie’s blouse; She clutched the mug with both hands and drank.
Jess let out a breath she hardly knew she was holding.
‘Now,’ she said unsteadily as the milk went down. The child’s body was almost relaxed, although she was still holding herself close to Jess-as if drawing warmth from her body. ‘What on earth is the trouble?’
‘Paige has nightmares.’ Niall spoke across the room. He was leaning back against the table, his arms folded, watching Jess and his daughter with troubled eyes. ‘She wakes…She wakes in terror.’
‘That’s some nightmare.’ Jess gave Paige’s thin body a squeeze. ‘Horrid.’
‘H-horrid,’ Paige whispered. The child held her empty mug away from her face and Niall moved to take it.
Paige flinched at his movement and shrank back into Jessie’s arms.
Phew…
Niall had seen the flinch. Jessie saw it in the man’s face-the sort of desperate hurt that cut deep.
‘How long have these nightmares been happening?’ Jess asked. She had a hard job to keep her voice steady.
‘I don’t know.’ Niall shook his head, his eyes still on his little daughter. ‘Paige was with her mother until…until five months ago. Then her mother…had to leave her and I collected Paige and brought her here.’
‘Collected her?’ Jess asked, startled. At the sound of her raised voice the child’s hand came up and clutched Jessie’s blouse again. ‘From where?’
‘From a hospital in Nepal,’ Niall said brusquely. ‘The hospital contacted me to say Paige had been admitted with polio and her mother…Her mother had to leave…’
Jessie stared. The implications of what he’d just said were horrible.
‘Polio,’ she whispered, her hands tightening round the child’s waist as though by holding her closer she could protect her from something so awful. ‘But…but no child gets polio now…’
‘Not if they’ve been immunised,’ Niall said harshly. ‘Paige’s mother didn’t think it was necessary.’
‘And…and you?’ Surely the man should have taken some responsibility for his little daughter.
‘I didn’t even know Paige had been born.’ Niall lifted a loaf of bread from the dresser and sliced it with force. ‘Until I had the phone call from Kathmandu I didn’t know of Paige’s existence. I’ve had a daughter for over five years-and I didn’t know. Until the phone call…’
‘To say Paige was ill?’
‘To say Paige was ill.’ He slashed down at the loaf. ‘Toast, Dr Harvey?’
When in doubt, eat
It was a principle that had served Jess well over the years. Preferably, when in doubt, eat chocolate but in a real crisis even toast would do.
This was crisis country if ever she’d experienced it.
Toast, then…
‘What do you think, Paige?’ Jess asked the little girl, forcing herself to look away from Niall’s savage face. She managed a smile down into the child’s frightened eyes. ‘Shall we have toast? Does your daddy make good toast?’
‘Yes,’ the child whispered and clung tighter.
Jess smiled. ‘Thank you, Dr Mountmarche,’ she told Niall. ‘Your daughter and I would both like toast’
Somehow, over the weirdly intimate breakfast, the little girl managed to relax. Jess moved to a chair at the table with Paige still clinging to her. Niall spread hot toast thickly with butter and strawberry jam and by the time Paige and Jess had eaten their third slice the child was sitting in the chair beside Jess and her face was less tense. She seemed almost normal.
Almost…There was still a hand clutching Jessie’s blouse.
‘You know who else likes toast?’ Jess asked between mouthfuls and watched the child find courage to answer.
‘Wh-who?’
‘The dog your daddy and I helped yesterday. Harry. I made toast last night and Harry ate the lot.’
‘Did he?’ Paige’s mouth trembled on a smile. ‘Is his leg better?’
‘Much better,’ Jess said roundly. ‘Thanks to your daddy. Your daddy
’s a fine doctor, Paige.’
Paige looked across at her father as if suspending judgement. ‘I would like to see the doggie,’ she announced.
See for herself.
There was no trust of an adult world here.
‘Harry would like to see you, too,’ Jess smiled. ‘Maybe you could get dressed and your daddy could bring you down to the hospital. There’s someone down there who needs your daddy almost as much as Harry did.’
Where on earth had she found the courage to say that?
She was on dangerous ground here.
Should she talk the man into something via the child?
‘Dr Harvey…’ Niall said and his voice was menacing.
‘Yes?’ Jess met his look.
‘You know what I’ve said…’
‘Frank needs you, Dr Mountmarche,’ Jess said simply. ‘And if Paige is happy to spend some time with me…’
‘Don’t you want to stay here, Paige?’ Niall was looking at his small daughter as if trying to work out a puzzle that was beyond him. The anger faded. ‘Paige…?’
‘I’d like to see Harry,’ Paige repeated. ‘Please, Daddy…’
There was a long silence.
‘This is emotional blackmail,’ Niall said at last and his voice was stifled.
‘Frank needs a doctor. And I’ll use any means I can to find him one.’
‘Including hurting my daughter?’
Paige was concentrating on wiping the last of the strawberry jam from her plate with one sticky finger. The words didn’t register with the child-but they did register with Jess.
‘No,’ Jess said at last ‘Not including hurting your daughter. I’d never consciously hurt any person, Dr Mountmarche. I promise you…’
‘I’ve heard promises before,’ Niall said heavily. He rose and started clearing plates. His face set as if he was coming to a decision that he didn’t like. ‘Well, Paige, if you want to go visiting your doggie friend maybe you’d better get dressed.’
‘You mean you’ll both come?’ Jess asked, scarcely daring to breathe.
‘We’ll come,’ Niall said heavily, ‘but under protest.’
It took Paige almost fifteen minutes to dress. Jess offered to help but was met with a curt rebuff by both father and daughter.
‘No,’ Paige said, panic in her voice, and Niall shook his head.
‘She dresses herself. She won’t have it any other way.’
The child limped from the room on her crutches and Niall and Jess were left on their own.
Looking at the child and then turning to each other.
There was that same tension-as if there was almost a physical link. A chain of invisible silken threads, as strong as steel…
‘I…I appreciate this,’ Jess said at last ‘You’d better.’ Niall turned from her with a perceptible effort and started hurling dishes into the sink with a force at odds with the softness of his tone. Anger, only just reined in. ‘If Paige suffers…’
‘How on earth would she suffer?’
Crash. A ceramic plate hit the sink and smashed neatly into two.
Jess stared down into the sink at the smashed plate and, despite herself, her lips twitched.
‘I hope your plate deserved its fate,’ she said primly and Niall wheeled to face her.
And caught her laughter.
He couldn’t maintain his fury. He stared down at her, working hard at keeping his expression rigid, but despite his anger his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. Somewhere in the depths of those black eyes lurked humour.
‘You deserve to have your neck wrung, Dr Harvey.’
‘So you’re taking it out on the china instead of my neck. Very wise.’ Jess grinned and picked up a tea towel as the tension finally eased. ‘You wash and I’ll wipe?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’
‘You fed me toast,’ Jess smiled. ‘And I always do my share of domestic duty for those who feed me. Except ironing. Any man who expects me to iron his shirts will have to think again.’
‘I’ll remember,’ Niall smiled and suddenly the electric current was zinging back and forth again with a force that almost shook Jess off her feet.
No…
She didn’t want this.
‘So…’ She took a deep breath, concentrating on wiping her newly washed plate with much more care than it deserved. ‘Tell me about Paige.’
‘There’s not a lot to tell.’
‘Is she so uncomplicated?’ It was a rebuke and Niall heard it. His hands tightened on the plate he held and he swore.
‘No.’ Then he sighed. Niall’s hands grew still; he looked out of the window across the slopes of vineyards and Jess sensed that Niall Mountmarche was no longer seeing vines.
‘Paige’s mother and I had an affair just as I finished medical school,’ Niall said at last and it was as if he was talking to himself and Jess had ceased to exist. ‘It was a typical university love affair. I was a bit keen on marriage but Karen…Well, Karen was a free spirit. She was into alternative lifestyles and freedom of spirit even then and found my medicine anathema.
‘On our last night we had a fight about holistic medicine versus traditional and she walked out. For a while I worried about her but I was young and, well, there were other women and a medical career to pursue. Karen was part of my dim distant student days. Until…’
‘Until?’
‘Four months ago I had a call from a Buddhist monk in Nepal. Karen had stayed in a monastery there-heaven knows how or why-and when she left Karen abandoned Paige to the monks because the child was too ill to walk. Paige was just five years old. Karen didn’t ask the monks’ permission-just did a bunk when Paige’s illness got frightening. Like your Dr Hurd.’
‘Just left her daughter?’ Jessie sucked in her breath in horror.
‘I told you,’ Niall said grimly. ‘Karen’s a free spirit. I’ve found out since that Paige has been farmed out with obliging friends all over the world since her birth. Karen looked after her when it suited her image to have a sweet little girl by her side. The only decent thing I can say about Karen is that she has some good-hearted friends.’
‘But when Paige became ill…Surely…’
‘Karen dumped her because the responsibility would have scared her stiff. Not her style-to play nursing mother. I honestly don’t know how Paige avoided an orphanage before this.’ Niall’s hands clenched. ‘It might have been better for Paige if she’d been institutionalised. At least she would have had Sabine vaccine…’
‘And not had polio.’
Niall nodded. His eyes were still far away.
‘And when she became ill?’ Jess prodded.
Niall shrugged. ‘She was very ill, very fast. The monks were worried. A child-especially a desperately ill Western child with no relations in the country-is a heavy responsibility. They carried Paige down to the nearest hospital and from there she was transferred to Kathmandu. She was diagnosed as having polio almost immediately.’
‘And how did they find you?’
‘She had a small suitcase-pathetic really. Just nothing. No forwarding address for Karen. Not even a soft toy or some reminder of the past. Karen wouldn’t have been bothered with a child’s belongings. There was only the child’s passport and on the passport Karen had scrawled my name and the address I used as a student. Under the relationship section she’d stated I was Paige’s father.
‘So one of the monks, and I’ll bless him forever, took it on himself to find me.’
Jess licked suddenly dry lips. ‘And you are…you are Paige’s father?’
‘Oh, I’m her father all right,’ Niall said grimly. ‘Her birth date fits. Paige is my daughter and I never knew.’ His hands clenched again in the soap suds. ‘What gets me is that Karen must have known she was pregnant when she left…’
Niall stared sightlessly out of the window and his hands stilled. ‘I never even knew she was pregnant,’ he said bleakly. ‘Karen would have thought it was a wonderfully free-spirited thing
to do. Bearing a baby on her own. The only trouble is that Karen would have been trying so hard to appear hip and cool and free that the responsibilities of a child would have come last.’
‘And Paige hasn’t seen her mother since Nepal?’ Jess asked softly.
‘Karen won’t come back.’ Niall’s voice was definite. ‘She rang the hospital once-once!-and asked how Paige was. They told her Paige’s legs were affected and Karen couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. “You’ll know what to do,” she told the interpreter and hung up. I can’t imagine Karen facing a polio-affected daughter-and acknowledging it’s her fault for not having Paige vaccinated.’
‘So…So where did that leave you-and Paige?’ Jess asked.
‘In a mess.’ Niall ran fingers through his thick, black hair and soap suds went through as well. He didn’t notice.
‘Paige wasn’t registered at birth as being my daughter so even getting her back into England was a problem. I eventually underwent DNA testing and proved who I was. That, the monk’s testimony of Karen’s abandonment and some good friends in high places made her legally my daughter. Proving parentage, though, was just the beginning.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘No,’ Niall said bluntly. ‘You can’t. You can’t imagine how hard it is to try and establish a relationship with a child who’s never had a father. Her only permanent adult has been transient, to say the least, and she’s now abandoned Paige completely. Paige has had to cope with that, plus the pain of polio and these damned callipers. I was at my wits’ end to know what to do-and then my uncle died.’
‘Louis?’
‘Louis.’ Niall’s voice softened a little. ‘Louis Mountmarche was my father’s brother and there was a family rift My father married an Irish girl-hence my name. When he and Louis fell out my father left the family wine business and settled in London. Wine growing, though, was supposed to be my heritage but the first contact I had with it was a lawyer’s letter saying Louis was dead.’
‘He must have been fond of you-to leave you the vineyard.’
Niall’s eyes grew bleak and distant. ‘I doubt he was fond of anything. Except his dog. His will left instructions that I care for the dog.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Jess said softly. ‘And, Niall, the dog was so old-and so distressed-I had to put him down.’
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