‘Which one of these are you, Ariana? Zero? Which means no hurting? Or ten? Which means hurting the worst?’
She watched as Ariana looked at all the little cartoon faces and pointed at four—‘Hurts A Little More’.
Good—the painkillers were taking effect. Hopefully that four would drop. Earlier, the paramedic had said her pain score was eight, so it was better, even if it wasn’t perfect.
Eva continued to hold Ariana’s hand. It was a soothing thing to do whilst they waited for their turn at CT and X-ray. If it had been Seb trapped in a hospital bed she would hope that the doctor caring for him would do the same thing, too, until she arrived.
* * *
Ariana’s CT scan was clear. The computer tomography scan showed internal slices through the body, so that breaks or bleeds could be seen much more clearly. Her pelvis was fine, as was her neck. Eva decided that she’d wait until they got back to Resus before she took off the immobiliser from Ariana’s neck and the brace from her pelvis.
As they wheeled her out of CT one of the nurses let Eva know that Ariana’s parents were on their way.
When they arrived back in the department Eva made the decision to take Ariana to the cubicles. Minors was busy, as some of the lesser injured children from the minibus had filled it up, and they still had a waiting room full of patients who hadn’t been involved but had come in with various ailments or injuries.
‘We’ll wait in here for Mummy and Daddy. This is much less scary than where we were before, isn’t it?’ She smiled at her patient.
Ariana was looking much happier now that the immobiliser and brace were off. She’d been a very lucky girl.
‘Ariana... I know you were going on a trip with your nursery. Which nursery do you go to?’
Please don’t say Pear Tree Pre-School!
‘The one next to the big school.’
Pear Tree Pre-School was next to an infant school...
‘What’s your teacher’s name?’
Seb’s teacher was Miss Dale. She was a very pretty young woman, with the sweetest nature, and Eva secretly wondered how she managed to keep her perfect composure all day long when surrounded by thirty-odd preschoolers.
‘Miss Dale.’
Oh, my God! Seb!
‘Ariana, I just need to check on something. Stay here, honey.’
She yanked open the curtain and fled from the cubicle, flagging down a passing nurse to sit with Ariana before heading straight to the minors board, looking for her son’s name.
Her eyes skim-read all the names until she saw it: Corday, Sebastian.
Please let him be all right!
She was about to rush off and find him when she did a double take, noticing the name of the doctor tending to him.
Jacob Dolan.
A sick chill had pervaded her body and her limbs felt numb and lifeless.
Jacob was with his son and he didn’t even know it!
Seb was talking to his father and he had no clue!
She forced her limbs to move. Forced her heavy body to start making its way to the cubicle where her life would change drastically.
Cubicle number four.
What were they talking about? Seb couldn’t be that injured if he was in Minors, but how bad was he? Was he sitting up in bed, chatting with his father? Was her secret out already?
No, not possible. Surely...?
Eva walked towards the cubicle with its closed curtain, a feeling of dread sitting low and heavy in her stomach. She could hear laughter inside, and Seb’s gentle chuckling.
She was just about to pull the curtain back when she felt a hand on her arm.
Sarah and Brandon wanted to give feedback. One child had a small fracture of the wrist and severe bruising where the seat belt had crossed the body. Another had dislocated her shoulder, but it had been reduced and put into a sling. The teacher driving and all the other adults had got away with nothing more than whiplash and bruising.
‘Nothing more severe? Thank goodness for that. They’ve been lucky, all of them.’
As Sarah and Brandon went back to their respective charges Eva couldn’t help but relax her shoulders, but she took a deep breath before she whipped back the curtain.
Seb was sitting up in bed, a broad smile on a face that was peppered with cuts. Jacob was seated on a stool next to him, about to glue a cut on his scalp.
‘Mummy!’ Seb saw her and lifted his arms for a cuddle.
Eva hurried over to him, waiting for the axe to fall, waiting for Jacob to do the maths and accuse her of being some heartless witch...
‘Seb! Are you okay?’
Jacob held off with the glue, giving them a moment. ‘Hello, Seb’s mum.’
She chose not to look at Jacob, knowing that if she did her eyes would give her away. Instead, she rapidly checked her son over, her hands grasping at his limbs, feeling for hidden injury. Apart from the cut on his scalp, he didn’t seem too bad.
She picked up his chart from the end of the bed and read through it. ‘Nothing serious, thank goodness.’
Jacob was watching her. ‘Just some minor cuts and scratches, thankfully. His head was banged against the side window, which has given him the small laceration that I was going to glue. He should be fine.’
‘Does he need a head CT?’
‘Dr Ranjit has checked him and said it wasn’t necessary.’
Dr Ranjit was a paediatric neurologist, so she had to assume he was right. ‘I see...’
‘Seb and I were just talking about lions. Apparently they’re his favourite animal.’
‘He loves lions.’
Jacob tilted his head at her curt tone, looking at her curiously. Then he asked Seb to put his head back against the pillow so that he could administer the glue. ‘Be brave, now—this might tingle a bit.’
Eva gripped her son’s hand tightly, smiling brightly into his face to encourage him to be brave.
He looked so like Jacob! Couldn’t Jacob see it? They both had the same almost black hair, slightly wavy. The same bright blue eyes...the same nose and mouth. It seemed that when genetics were being decided upon Mother Nature had decided to give Seb only his mother’s skin tone—very pale and creamy, with hints of pink in his cheeks. Apart from that, he was the spitting image of his father.
And this was not how she’d wanted Jacob to find out. She’d wanted to be able to tell him somewhere peaceful and neutral—perhaps the hospital grounds in a secluded corner? To buy him a coffee and ask him if he had time for a chat, and then slowly drip feed the information about what had happened after he left.
Not like this. Not in front of her son!
Seb winced as the glue went onto the edges of his wound and Jacob pinched them together to help them adhere.
‘You’re doing great, honey.’ Eva rubbed his hands in hers and wished she could take away the pain. The discomfort. Do what she could to make her son feel better.
‘I didn’t know you were a mother.’
She looked at Jacob quickly, and then away, guilt flooding her cheeks with heat. ‘No, well...things change.’
‘How old are you, Seb?’ he asked, frowning.
‘Three.’ Seb smiled. ‘It doesn’t hurt now.’
Jacob nodded and let go, and the wound’s edges stayed together. He pulled off his gloves and smiled. ‘There you go. It doesn’t need a plaster or anything. Just don’t get it wet. Well done, Seb! You’re very brave.’
Seb beamed with pleasure.
‘Can I take him home now?’ Eva started to gather her son’s things. His backpack had been put on the end of his bed, and his jacket.
‘He needs to stay here for an hour or two for observation. He has had a bump to the head.’
He was staring at her, his eyes full of questions.
She had to get out of there! She did not want to have this conversation in front of Seb! She would not have this conversation in front of him. No. Not at all.
But he had to stay. For observation. Couldn’t she observe him at home? She was an A&E doctor after all...
‘May I have a word with you, Dr Corday?’
Oh, this is it. Here it comes...
‘Sure. But...um...later, maybe? I need to arrange cover if I’m going home.’
‘Could we talk now?’
She looked at Seb. Then back at Jacob.
‘Let me get him sorted first.’
She rummaged in his backpack and found his reading book. She passed it to him.
‘Have a read of your book, Seb. I’m just going to step outside the curtains and have a talk with Dr Dolan.’
Eva followed Jacob from the cubicle and went with him over to the quiet corner by the Christmas tree.
It looked beautiful this year. The team had really done themselves proud. For years they’d had a tired old fake tree that had been packed away each year in an old cardboard box, battered and unloved. But this year they had a real tree, beautifully decorated in gold and silver, with lots of pretend presents underneath.
Eva and Seb had been really looking forward to Christmas. This year it seemed Seb really understood what was going on, and what was happening, and the story of Santa Claus had got him so excited! They’d already put their own tree up at home.
But Eva wasn’t excited right now. She felt dread. And guilt. All those emotions she’d kept hidden away for years, since that first night with Jacob, neatly locked down, were now threatening to overwhelm her with their enormity.
She stood in front of Jacob like a naughty child before the headmaster. But then she thought about how he was guilty, too. About his part in all of this.
She squared her shoulders back and looked him in the eye. ‘Yes?’
‘You seem a little...distracted.’
She said nothing. Just stared at him. Waiting for the axe to fall.
‘Seb’s a great kid.’
‘He is. The best.’
‘You weren’t a mother when we met.’
Her cheeks flamed. ‘No.’
‘But you are now. And he’s three?’
‘Yes.’
Jacob seemed to be mulling over his next words. Thinking about what he might say next. Whether she would rebut his words or accept them.
‘He looks like me.’
Eva stared deeply into his bright blue eyes...eyes so much like Seb’s. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—deny him the truth. He deserved that.
‘Yes.’
Jacob’s voice lowered. ‘Is he mine, Eva?’
Of course he’s yours! Surely it’s clear to everyone?
She wanted to yell. She wanted to confirm it to him angrily. Rage at him for all he’d put her through after he left. But she didn’t. She knew that could come later. Right now he just needed the plain facts.
‘Yes. Seb’s your son.’
He stood staring at her, his face incredulous.
The Christmas tree twinkled between them.
She couldn’t help but notice how his broad shoulders narrowed down into a neat, flat waist. How his expensively tailored trousers moulded his shape, his long, muscular legs. He looked mouth-wateringly good. The years he’d spent in Africa had obviously been good to him. He was vital and in peak condition.
Years before, when they’d met at that party, there’d been only hints of the man he was to become. But even then he’d been delicious... Now the heavier muscle and perfectly toned body looked amazing on him...
She swallowed hard.
All she’d known about him that night was his name and that he was going to work for some charity. That he was a doctor, like her, and was going to Africa. But just because that was what he’d said, she hadn’t been sure it was true. People lied. Especially at parties. To make themselves sound better or more interesting than they actually were.
Jacob. In her A&E. Standing there. As large as life. As gorgeous and as sexy as he’d ever been. A hundred times more so.
He was just staring back at her, his mouth slightly open, as if he’d had something he was about to say only it had never come out.
She couldn’t just stand there! Waiting for the axe to fall. To see his reaction. Waiting for him to reject them.
So Eva turned and headed in the opposite direction—back through the curtains of the cubicle that held her son.
Their son.
If she just accepted right now that Jacob wasn’t going to be sticking around—he was just a locum after all, here for the busy Christmas period—then it wouldn’t hurt as badly. She couldn’t expect him to stay. She and Seb deserved to be loved 100 percent. Eva refused to accept anything less.
* * *
‘Seb will be okay to go home soon. I’ll have to take the rest of the day off. There’s no one else to take him, and I can’t get my neighbour Letty in—not after this.’
‘The new doc can pick up the slack,’ Sarah said.
‘Jacob.’ Her mouth and lips and tongue flowed over his name like a caress.
Eva turned to go and get Seb, then realised her coat and bag were in her locker on the other side of the department. She hurried to get them, flushing as she went past the double doors to Resus.
She had to be quick. Her fingers fumbled over the combination lock and her hands were shaking by the time she managed to open it.
She’d worried so much about how Jacob would react upon finding out he had a son that she hadn’t given a thought as to how Seb might react if he found out! He didn’t even know he had a father. Seb hadn’t yet asked, and she’d been too afraid to broach the subject with her very young son, deciding to wait until he was older to tell him what little she knew about Jacob.
Eva hurried from the staff locker room and headed for the cubicles.
She wanted to go home now!
CHAPTER THREE
HE HAD A SON? A son!
That little boy. Seb. He’d just been talking to him, taking care of him, and he’d not once suspected that he was his son.
But why would he? Just because the boy had had the same hair as him and the same eye colour...that didn’t mean he should have suspected at all...
Why the hell hadn’t Eva told him about Seb? Why had she kept him a secret?
He couldn’t bear that. Secrets were dangerous.
He had to talk to her. Find out more. Find out what had happened after he left.
Walking away from the Christmas tree, he headed back to the cubicles—only to find Eva there, putting on her coat and scarf.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Home. I can observe Seb there. I am qualified.’
‘He needs to stay here.’
She looked at him. ‘This is nothing to do with you. You don’t have to pretend to care.’
‘Seb is everything to do with me—and not just as his doctor. And I do care.’
Eva stared at him, and as he waited for her to say something Seb peeked at him over his book and smiled.
Jacob couldn’t help but smile back. Seb was a cute little guy.
Then he looked back at Eva. ‘You both need to stay. We need to talk.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not ready for this right now.’
‘Tough. It’s happening.’
He dared her to defy him. If she chose to walk away right now, then he had no idea what he would say. He’d probably have to chase her until she gave up and headed back to A&E. But thankfully he didn’t have to do any of that.
Eva let out a big huff, and then removed her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. ‘Fine.’
Jacob let ou
t a breath and his shoulders sagged down. He hadn’t realised how tense he’d been. He couldn’t help but look at Seb now.
He looked tall for a three-year-old. Like himself, he supposed. He could remember his mum saying that he’d always been tall for his age. Then again, Eva wasn’t short, either. But now, the more he looked at his son the more he could see himself in the little boy. Seb’s eyes were the same shape and colour as his, he had the same wavy hair, the same shaped mouth...
It was like looking at a mini-me.
And he was three years old...
Three years that he had missed out on. Three years of important milestones—his first word, his first steps, his first tooth, his first Christmas!
I’ve missed everything. Birthdays and Christmases...
How had he not known about his own son? More important, why had Eva kept it from him? For three years! The last woman who had kept a secret from him had almost destroyed him.
Jacob called for one of the healthcare assistants to sit with Seb. ‘Don’t let him out of your sight,’ he said, then guided Eva into the staff room and slammed the door closed behind them.
Three years! I’ve had a son for three years and she never told me!
Fury and rage that he’d never thought it possible for one human being to contain filled his body, making it quake, and he had to grit his teeth to try to bring it under some form of control.
‘What the hell have you done?’
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and defiant as a solitary tear dribbled down her face. Even crying she was beautiful, and he hated her for that. Why couldn’t she look wretched? Why couldn’t she look awful, as if she were suffering for the pain she’d caused him?
He recalled Michelle standing in front of him, crying, begging for his forgiveness...
‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’
He looked at her, incredulous. ‘Nothing wrong?’
‘I’m raising a boy on my own and I’m doing a damned fine job, thank you very much!’
‘Oh, I’m sure that you are—but what about me? Did you not think our son deserved a father?’
‘Of course I did!’
A horrible thought occurred to him. ‘Are you with someone else? Is another man raising my child?’
A Father This Christmas? Page 3