His Very Own Wife and Child

by Caroline Anderson

  She took the ring, her eyes suddenly filling. ‘Thank you.’

  Slipping it carefully into a zipped pocket, she went back to the car and returned to the hospital.

  It was four-thirty. The sky was still dark, the air cold and crisp. She shivered as she walked towards the doors, and then Jack was there, slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. ‘You OK?’

  She nodded wordlessly, her eyes asking a question, and he nodded.

  ‘She’s in Theatre. They’re patching her aorta and the ortho reg is sorting out her arm. I gather she’s stabilised and they’re hopeful.’

  ‘Family?’

  ‘They’ve contacted them. Did you manage to find the ring?’

  She unzipped the pocket and pulled it out, holding it out to him on the palm of her hand. They both stared at it, deeply conscious of the symbolism of the battered little band.

  Jack lifted it carefully from her hand and slipped it into his pocket. ‘I’ll take it up to her later. I’ll be going up to see her anyway. I checked her husband while they were taking the roof off. It would have been instant and painless. It’s not much, but I can give her that. And the ring.’

  She nodded.

  It was only a matter of days since she’d watched Patrick slide a ring onto Annie’s finger with sure, steady hands. Her own was sitting in her jewellery box. She didn’t quite know what to do with it, but wearing it didn’t seem an option.

  Such a tiny thing, a wedding ring, but so full of meaning.

  Broken promises, love lost, vows severed by fate.

  She turned away, walking quickly down the corridor into the ladies’ loo and shutting herself away until the wave of emotion retreated. Then she came out, washed her face and hands, changed into a fresh set of scrubs and went back out into the fray.

  The day stretched out endlessly.

  Sally went home to bed after her shift finished, couldn’t sleep properly and got up again at two, but the house was so empty without the boys that she couldn’t stand it, so she had a shower, pulled on her jeans and a jumper and went out in the car.

  She didn’t know where she was going—for a walk? Shopping? There was no food in the house and the boys would be back tomorrow, so it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea, but it held no appeal.

  And then she found herself outside Annie’s house, hovering in the road and questioning her motives—motives she hadn’t even realised she’d had.

  What was she doing there? Jack wouldn’t want to see her—and even if he did, that was even more dangerous! She was starting to lean on him too much—every time she went to work he was there, his lazy grin and watchful eyes following her round the department, dragging her off for breaks every now and again, keeping her focussed and fed.

  Not that she needed to be fed. She’d been comforteating all week—chocolate and crisps and rubbish food generally, although she hadn’t cooked a single thing for herself that could in any way be called a meal. She’d cooked for the boys, of course, but they hadn’t always been there, or sometimes they’d eaten with friends or with David.

  Fliss had been brilliant, taking them under her wing and blending them seamlessly with her huge and tumultuous family, and they were getting there. The shock was receding, the fear that they’d lose either of their parents proving unfounded.

  And kids were resilient. She knew that. She was the one who was most unsettled by it all, and she wondered how much of it was to do with David leaving her and how much to do with Jack coming back into her life with his laughing eyes and irresistible attraction.

  And here she was, outside the house where he was staying—probably sleeping right now. He’d been up all night, like her, and he’d probably had the sense to spend the day in bed.

  Oh, lord. Warm and sleep-rumpled, with his hair sticking up like the boys’ and his eyes soft with sleep, and wearing nothing but a lazy come-hither smile. He would be naked, of course. He was always naked in bed. She’d never known him wear anything.

  Not in the entire—what?—three and half weeks of their relationship. Hardly a lifetime but, given a choice, it would have been. She’d fallen so hard and so fast for the gorgeous young doctor with the ready smile and sexy, sexy eyes.

  Lord, it was laughable how besotted she had been—still was, for heaven’s sake! Her husband had walked out, her kids were confused, and all she could think about was him lying there—

  ‘Sal?’

  She jumped and turned her head, to see him standing by her car door, safely dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, the dog on a lead beside him. She opened the window and smiled weakly, feeling the colour seep into her cheeks. ‘Hi. I was…’ Fantasising about him naked.

  ‘Just passing?’ he finished slowly, when she’d run out of words, and she felt the smile collapse.

  ‘Sorry. Bit pathetic today. I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Me neither. Never can after a night shift. We’ve just been in the dog park, and I was going to take Scruff to visit Alfie. Want to come? I don’t really know the way and I’ve never met him, but it’s on my list of instructions from Annie— “Visit Alfie with Scruff on Saturday at three.” So here I am, just about to go and ready for moral support. Going to take pity on me?’

  She laughed, as she was meant to, and started to relax. ‘He’s just an old man,’ she teased. ‘Why would you need moral support?’

  He grinned. ‘You wouldn’t want me to get into trouble with Annie, would you, now?’ he said, and she buckled.

  Of course she buckled. And, anyway, it was a perfectly legitimate reason to spend time with him, since she’d known Alfie as one of the A and E regulars for years.

  ‘Your car or mine?’ he asked, and then a car pulled up behind her and hooted, and he grinned and waved and ran round to the passenger side and got in. ‘Guess that’s that sorted,’ he said, and settled Scruff between his feet before putting on his seat belt and propping himself against the door to watch her.

  It hardly seemed worth arguing. ‘Right, pay attention,’ she said, ‘or you’ll need me to show you the way next week as well.’

  And he promptly shut his eyes, his mouth quirking. Laughing, she slapped his leg in reproach, feeling the hard, solid muscle of his thigh under her fingers, and his eyes flew open and locked with hers.

  She felt the laughter recede, replaced by a sudden heat that took her breath away. Her fingers were still tingling from the contact, but the man behind hooted again, and Scruff whined, and she put the car into gear, dragged her eyes from Jack’s and set off down the road with her gaze fixed firmly ahead and her hands clamped on the wheel.

  Except to change gear, and then his knee was there, jutting against the gear lever, big and bony and attached to those thigh muscles that she was trying so hard not to think about. If only she’d got an automatic!

  Hell’s teeth.

  The chemistry between them was still every bit as hot as it had ever been, and infinitely harder to ignore now that David had left her and they didn’t even have the barrier of her marriage between them. He shifted his knee away from the gear lever and scratched the dog’s ears, trying to drag his attention onto something innocuous rather than the nearness of her hand when she changed gear, the movement of her thigh as she depressed the clutch, the faint hint of perfume drifting from her skin.

  She turned into a driveway and pulled up in a corner of the car park, then cut the engine and reached for the doorhandle. ‘Right, this is it. Did you register the route for next week?’

  Not a chance. He hadn’t seen a single road sign or junction. His attention had been exclusively on her, but he’d work it out next week if he had to.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, a little more tersely than he’d meant to, and opened the car door. With any luck, half an hour with an old codger would settle his libido down again and give him back a little much-needed distance!

  ‘Scruff! Come on, then, boy!’

  The dog whined and Jack let him go, watching with a smile as he ran to his old
master and hopped up onto his lap, lashing his face with his tongue until Alfie, laughing, had to push him away. Then Scruff curled into a ball on his lap and closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment as Alfie laid a hand on his head and scratched gently behind one ear.

  He looked across at them as they approached, a smile lighting his rheumy old eyes as he caught sight of Sally.

  ‘Hello, my dear,’ he said, his voice a little rough. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. What brings you here?’

  ‘You do. Hello, Alfie,’ Sally said, and to Jack’s surprise—or maybe not—she kissed his grizzled cheek. ‘How are you, you old rascal? Behaving yourself?’

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m a reformed character, you cheeky minx. And you must be Oz,’ he said, his eyes flicking up to Jack’s and scanning him assessingly. ‘Annie and Patrick told me you’d be looking after the old boy while they were away. Thank you for that.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ he said, holding out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Alfie lifted his hand from the dog’s neck and took it, and Jack felt he’d passed a test. He smiled. ‘Good to meet you, Alfie. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  Which wasn’t totally true, but he’d heard enough, and one look at the worn old eyes was enough to tell him that a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to learn it all. Alfie’s hand was retracted and returned to the dog, as if this weekly contact with Scruff was one of the few pleasures he had left, and yet from what Annie had told him he was happy there and doing well.

  ‘So, how was the wedding?’ he asked Sally, and Jack pulled up a couple of chairs while Sally settled down to tell him all about it.

  Well, maybe not quite all. There was a dance that didn’t get a mention, and David’s name was notable by its absence, but if Alfie noticed he didn’t say anything, just listened intently and then sighed in contentment.

  ‘Well, I hope they’ll be very happy. Lovely people, they are, both of them, and if they’re a tenth as happy as me and my missus were, they’ll be doing all right.’

  ‘I’m sure they are,’ Sally assured him, but at that point Jack stopped listening, his attention drawn to one of the other residents.

  She was looking a little peaky, and as he watched she stood up and headed out of the room, pausing in the doorway to steady herself.

  ‘Old Emily over there’s been going on all morning about feeling dizzy, but she won’t tell anyone,’ Alfie said, his own eyes following her progress.

  Jack flicked his eyes back to Emily and frowned slightly. She didn’t look great at all, and he noticed Sally glance across and frown as well.

  ‘Did you mention it to anyone?’ she asked Alfie softly, but he shook his head.

  ‘No—she’d never forgive me. She won’t say anything—doesn’t want to be a nuisance.’

  ‘I’ll go and have a word,’ Jack said, straightening up, but as he did so Emily made a funny little noise and crumpled to the floor.

  He crossed the room in three strides, kneeling down beside her and feeling for a pulse, but it was very weak.

  ‘Sally, get help,’he said, and without moving her he tilted her head a fraction to open her airway and checked her pulse again. Still very weak, but maybe a little stronger…

  ‘Emily? Wake up, my love!’ he said, pinching her gently, and she opened her eyes and moaned.

  ‘Oh, my leg.’

  ‘Which one, sweetheart?’

  ‘This one.’ She used her gnarled old hand to pat the knee of the leg she’d landed on.

  ‘Did it hurt before you fell?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Oh, dear, I’ve done my hip, haven’t I?’

  ‘Maybe. I think we ought to get you taken to hospital and checked over. They can take some pictures of it to be certain.’

  ‘I think so,’ Sally agreed. ‘It’s a classic fall for a hip fracture—we have to check.’

  ‘I’ve called an ambulance,’ one of the home staff said, kneeling down beside him on the floor and stroking Emily’s hair gently back from her face. ‘What made you fall, my darling?’

  ‘Alfie said she’s been dizzy,’ Sally told her softly.

  ‘Oh, why didn’t you say? Silly girl. It’s those pills,’ she added to them. ‘They’ve changed her blood-pressure pills, and they warned us to keep an eye on her. It was a bit low this morning, and I told her to let me know if she felt funny. Oh, Em, you should have said.’

  ‘I didn’t want to be a nuisance,’ she said, her eyes filling, and the woman clicked her tongue and gave her a little hug, then sat down with Emily’s head on her lap and stroked her hair until the ambulance arrived.

  ‘She all right?’ Alfie asked anxiously, when they rejoined him a few minutes later.

  ‘She will be. She might have broken her hip, or it might just have had a bit of a bump. They’ll X-ray her and see.’

  ‘You take care of her, now,’ Alfie said. ‘She’s a good woman.’ And to Jack’s surprise, his wizened old cheeks coloured.

  Jack patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, she’s in good hands,’ he promised. ‘But if it makes you feel happier, we’ll go up to the hospital and check on her.’

  ‘Good. Go now—and let me know?’

  ‘Of course we will, you old softie,’ Sally said affectionately, and kissed his still-ruddy cheek. ‘Be good, now.’

  ‘Got no choice in here,’ he said, but he didn’t look unhappy about it, and the dog trotted out with them without a whimper. Good, because Jack had had visions of having to drag the hound after them on the end of his lead, whining all the way.

  ‘Are you really going to the hospital?’

  He looked at Sally in surprise. ‘Well—yes, I was. I said I would. You don’t have to come, though.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, I do. I was going anyway. I’m just surprised you are.’

  He didn’t feel flattered by that, but he didn’t argue. He’d done nothing in the past to give her a good opinion of him, unless you counted doing his duty when he’d married Clare, and somehow he didn’t think she would.

  It was almost six by the time they left the hospital.

  Emily was fine, just a little bruised, and they were keeping her in overnight under observation just to be on the safe side. While Sally had waited with her, Jack had gone to see Jennifer, the woman whose hand he’d amputated in the night, and he came back just in time to hear Sally telling Alfie the news that Emily was going to be OK.

  He glanced at his watch and cocked his head on one side enquiringly. ‘Hungry?’

  She was. Ravenous. She’d missed lunch—had probably missed breakfast, too—and the thought of food made her stomach grumble loudly.

  ‘I take it that’s a yes.’ He chuckled, and she blushed and nodded.

  ‘I am, but don’t worry, I can go home and cook.’

  ‘Well, we can all go home and cook, but we could also pick up a take-away from the Chinese round the corner.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘Share supper with an old friend who’s miles from home?’ he said, and her resolution went belly up without a murmur.

  She smiled wryly. ‘Since you put it like that,’ she told him, and picked up her car keys.

  He was worried about her. She seemed fine in many ways, but there was a haunted look in her eyes and he knew the boys were troubling her.

  Was it only the boys, though? He didn’t know, he just knew he hated seeing her like this and wanted to take her out of herself.

  ‘I gave Jennifer her ring,’ he told her as they unpacked the bag in the Corrigans’ kitchen a little while later.

  ‘How is she?’

  He grimaced. ‘Sore, shocked, grieving. I told her we’d got the ring for her, and she took it from me and held it helplessly and didn’t know what to do with it. She couldn’t put it on, of course, and it hit her then, I think, that she’d lost the other arm. I had to help her put it on her finger on her right hand, and it made her cry. She said the last time a man had done that, it had been her husband on their wedding day. It was awful, and there was nothing I could do but let her talk
and just be there for her, a total stranger putting on her wedding ring.’

  He shook his head, the look in her eyes still tormenting him, and Sal made a soft sound and laid her hand on his. ‘It must have been so difficult. I’m sorry, I could have done it instead. It might have been easier—a nurse, another woman. Reminded her less.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think it would have made any difference, so don’t be sorry. Anyway, I didn’t mind. It’s part of the job—the bit that makes us human. It was just sad, that’s all. She’s got a lot to work through before she comes out the other end—grieving not only for her husband but for her arm. That’s a lot of adjusting to make. It won’t be a picnic.’

  ‘You saved her, though, so at least she’ll get the opportunity. She would have bled out if she’d been left much longer.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he agreed, ‘but this morning I don’t think she was grateful to me for that. Maybe in time she’ll come to feel she was lucky. Who knows?’

  He looked down at her hand, still resting on his, and he could see the white indentation where her wedding ring had been, a poignant reminder of all she’d lost. He reached out with the other hand and traced the white line with his finger, and as if he’d scalded her she sucked in her breath and snatched it back, but he could still feel the warmth of her palm on the back of his hand, still feel the dent where her ring had sat for so long.

  ‘Um—so what did we get in the end, then?’ she said, breaking the silence and delving into the bag with forced cheer.

  He stared at the bag for a moment, trying to concentrate on something other than the feel of her hand. ‘Um…I don’t know—it was a set meal for two. Seems a decent place—it’s kept me going most of the week, and I haven’t found anything yet I don’t like.’

  She laughed and shook her head. ‘That’s dreadful—don’t you cook at all?’

  ‘Oh, sure. I’m cooking for them tomorrow, but it doesn’t seem worth bothering just for me after a long day at work, so I’m used to take-aways. Either that or a bowl of cereal.’

  She frowned, as if she couldn’t quite make sense of his remark, but the food was getting cold and he was starving. He grabbed a spoon and put it in her hand. ‘Come on, it’s getting cold.’