And, hardest of all, before August ended Ruth would leave to embrace her new life with Rico in Florence. Holly knew Gina was as delighted as she was to see Ruth so happy and cherished by Rico, but she also knew tears would be inevitable when departure day arrived.
Rico and Seb were cousins, and very close, so Holly was consoled by the knowledge that they would all see each other as often as possible. Invitations to Florence and Elba remained open, and Ruth was keeping her home in Strathlochan for holidays and weekends.
It was at Ruth’s cottage on the outskirts of town that she and Max had spent an afternoon picking an abundance of soft fruit—unfortunately without Ruth, who’d been working out her last days as a GP at the town’s biggest doctors’ surgery.
‘I hate to think of my fruit and vegetables going to waste,’ Ruth had remarked when Holly and Gina had seen her the previous weekend. ‘Promise to help yourselves to whatever you can use.’
At home in the kitchen, with the back door open to let in the late afternoon breeze and the sound of the gently tinkling windchime hanging outside, Holly glanced at Max, asleep in his Moses basket. Smiling, she began the task of sorting out her bounty of berries and currants. As she worked, deciding which to freeze and which to make into jam, setting aside the ones that needed to be eaten straight away, her thoughts turned to the christening and to the visit she and Gus had made to the solicitor.
Frazer, Callie, Seb and Gina had all enthusiastically accepted being godparents, and arrangements for a quiet ceremony were in hand. As was the paperwork to deal with legal guardianship. When Gus had first mentioned it Holly hadn’t been unduly fussed, but in the light of Erica Sharpe’s cautionary words safeguarding her rights with Max had become an urgent priority.
The bad news was that the solicitor—who’d handled legal matters for her family for as long as Holly could remember—had revealed the true situation relating to Julia’s estate.
‘Our searches have found no evidence of a will,’ James Russell had explained, and although disappointed Holly hadn’t been surprised to learn of Julia’s failure to make preparations.
Frowning, Gus had sat forward attentively. ‘Do her assets go to the government?’
‘No. As her legal next of kin—and because she was not declared without life until after his birth,’ the solicitor had informed them, ‘Max is sole beneficiary.’
‘Thank God,’ Gus had responded, pleasing her, as it suggested his thoughts—like hers—were on Max.
The kindly, balding sixty-year-old had opened the file in front of him. ‘I have to warn you…Julia’s finances are a mess. We’ve been through all the paperwork and there’s no easy way to say it. Apart from any items of value you have of hers at home—jewellery, for example—Julia has no assets.’
‘That can’t be right.’ Holly remembered whispering the words. She’d been so shocked that for once she’d scarcely been aware of Gus.
‘I’m sorry, Holly.’ James’s smile had been grave and apologetic. ‘There’s nothing left.’
The extent of Julia’s debts shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Holly pressed a clenched fist to her aching chest as she contemplated again the ramifications of all James had told them. Julia had promised never to get into debt again and to get help for her self-confessed gambling problem. Those had been the conditions under which Holly had given Julia money and bailed her out of serious trouble. The agreement had been concluded in James’s office, but Julia hadn’t meant any of it. Something she had gleefully made clear later. There would be no savings account into which she would make deposits when she was back on her feet, and Holly would not be repaid.
Holly wasn’t bothered that she’d never see a penny of the money herself. She’d lived without it up to now and would continue to manage. What pained her was the fact that the inheritance that should have provided for Max’s future had been squandered by Julia with such selfish disregard.
She’d been grateful that James, the soul of discretion, had told Gus nothing of past events or of her own role in them. She didn’t doubt that Gus had questions, but thankfully they’d remained unasked…so far. She had no wish to reveal the details to him, wanting to protect his memories of the woman for whom he grieved. And so Julia continued to be a ghostly spectre between them.
Succumbing to temptation, Holly popped a raspberry into her mouth, wishing the tangy burst of flavour would take away the sour taste left by her thoughts. Whether it helped or not she couldn’t say: her attention was diverted by the sound of the front door closing, followed by footsteps treading down the hallway.
Gus was home.
Her heart gave its customary flutter and her breath hitched, her pulse racing at the prospect of seeing him. Masking her emotions, she turned as he entered the room and smiled.
‘Hello,’ she greeted, basking in the sight of him.
‘Hi. Have you two had a good day?’
‘Lovely.’ And it was even better now he was home. Not that she could tell him that. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he crossed to the Moses basket where Max was waking from his nap. ‘He heard your voice.’
Pleasure lit Gus’s face. ‘Did you wake up for your papa, half-pint?’
Max had received his first set of immunisations at eight weeks, when the GP had pronounced himself delighted with the progress made, reminding Holly of Gus’s unwavering insistence that Max had entered the world four weeks early.
‘He’s changing and developing every day,’ she commented as Gus picked Max up and cuddled him.
‘He certainly is. I never tire of seeing his smile.’
Gus looked at her, and as their eyes met they shared a moment of intimacy. ‘I know.’ She struggled to bring her shaky voice under control. ‘He’s responding so much—copying expressions and gurgling back when you or I speak to him,’ she added, glowing with pride at his growing achievements. And he was so handsome…just like his father.
‘Have his eyes changed colour?’ Gus asked, studying his son’s face.
‘Definitely.’ She’d noticed the difference, too. ‘They’re more denim-blue.’
Max had lost the newborn look and was gaining more control of his movements, reaching out and trying to grasp things, beginning to suck his fist and thumb. He was lively and interested, and loved being read to and listening to music—especially when Gus played the sax. He’d been sleeping through for some time, allowing them undisturbed nights, and as his character continued to emerge his sweet nature remained. He was easygoing, and his sense of fun delighted her.
Gus was talking softly to Max, who gurgled in response. Seeing father and son together always stole her heart. Gus was so loving—gentle yet strong—and so protective. Holly returned to her task, wishing this scene they re-enacted daily was real…that they were a proper family and that she was not only Max’s true mother but Gus’s wife, too. It was a hopeless fantasy, but that didn’t stop her dreaming.
She was startled when Gus moved to her side, Max cradled in one arm, brushing against her. The touch of his skin set hers aflame. He leaned in and pinched a couple of raspberries from her bowl.
‘Hey!’ she admonished, insanely breathless from his nearness.
Gus popped the ripe fruit into his mouth, his chuckle and rare cheeky grin nearly seizing her lungs. ‘You have been busy. Is this the result of your raid on Ruth’s garden?’
‘Yes. Max and I had a lovely afternoon and the freezer is stuffed with fruit. We’ll be eating pies and crumbles for months! I’m going to make jam, too,’ she told him, chattering like a flustered schoolgirl.
‘I’m not complaining!’
Distracted by her awareness of his close proximity, she was slow to react when he selected another raspberry and slid it into her mouth. The pad of his thumb caught on the plump fullness of her lower lip.
Holly froze.
The air felt alive, crackling with electricity. Her gaze locked with his. As the berry burst and filled her mouth with its tangy richness she couldn’t help but s
wallow and lick her lips. Gus’s smoky eyes darkened. Holly could hear every rapid beat of her heart.
For one insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She tensed and drew away, desperate not to betray how intensely she craved for him to do just that. At once Gus stepped back and withdrew his gaze, breaking the magnetic spell between them. While she wrestled with her disappointment, and her fear that she had somehow exposed her feelings, he returned his attention to Max, cuddling his son close and kissing his soft cheek.
‘Has he had his bottle?’ Gus asked, with no sign of the previous fun or intimacy remaining in his voice.
‘Not yet.’ Fingers shaking, she tightened her grip on the bowl. ‘It’s ready. I thought you’d like to feed him if you were home in time.’
‘Thanks.’
* * *
Gus sat at the table to feed Max, and although he was focused on his son, and relishing time with him after a long shift at work, he was aware of Holly, too.
What must she think of him? She’d withdrawn so quickly she must have sensed his desire to kiss her. He smothered a groan. What had possessed him to let down his guard? She’d smelled of sunshine, summer berries and something uniquely Holly…feminine, warm and arousing. He should never have fed her that raspberry. It had seemed a simple gesture—a natural part of the humour they’d shared—but he’d overstepped the mark, allowing the attraction, the needing, the wanting, to show itself.
He watched as Holly took the local newspaper from the table and shooed an inquisitive wasp away from the fruit, ushering it out of the open back door. As she returned to her tasks he reflected on how natural she was in this domestic setting. Spending more time at home with Max agreed with her. And it wasn’t just Max who felt the benefit, Gus allowed…his stomach approved, too.
‘Have you always enjoyed cooking?’ he asked as she mixed a crumble topping, covered the fruit and put the dish in the oven.
‘I loved helping Mum on baking days as a child.’ She glanced at him, her smile reminiscent. ‘She was a wonderful cook. “Plain home food”, she called it, nothing fancy, but it was delicious. She made her own bread, and we had all sorts of cakes, biscuits and puddings to come home to. It’s nice having a chance to feed others.’
The aromas permeating the kitchen made his tummy rumble. ‘You have a grateful recipient of your food here.’
‘Thanks.’ A flush of pleasure brought a rosy glow to her cheeks.
As Max enjoyed his bottle, Gus reflected on their visit to the solicitor. He’d been shocked to discover how desperate Julia’s financial situation had been—something she’d lied about—but how that had affected Holly he wasn’t sure. Given the way James Russell had consoled her, and Holly’s pale cheeks and shocked expression, something was wrong. But what? He was wary of upsetting the truce between them by asking questions and raising contentious issues.
One task he’d been putting off was sorting Julia’s belongings. It wasn’t a prospect he relished, but it needed to be done. And he had to find out what Holly wanted to keep, and what her views were on disposing of the rest.
As Max finished his milk Gus shifted him to his shoulder and gently patted his back to wind him. A surprisingly loud and satisfied belch emerged and Gus looked up, meeting Holly’s amused gaze.
‘My son…the champion burper,’ he commented wryly, and she laughed, the infectious sound warming him.
‘Make the most of it, Maxie,’ she advised with a grin. ‘This is the only time in your life that you’ll be encouraged to burp like that and be praised for doing it!’
Sharing the laughter, Gus cuddled Max close, grateful that following his abrupt entry into the world his son was now the picture of health. Max was growing so quickly, and Holly was right about the way he changed and developed every day.
Much of Max’s happy contentment and sunny disposition were due, Gus believed, to Holly’s loving care. He wished she was Max’s real mother. The admission hit him hard. Time with Holly had given him a taste of what might have been had things been different. Had Holly returned his feelings and not stood him up and rejected him. Had he not made the terrible error with Julia. Self-disgust and deep regret filled him. If only things had been different and this tableau of a happy family was true. He wanted to believe that Julia would have loved their son, but he doubted she would ever have adapted so readily to the day-to-day hands-on role that came so naturally to Holly.
With his thoughts back on Julia, Gus cleared his throat and broached the difficult task ahead of him.
‘I think it’s time I started sorting out Julia’s things,’ he told Holly, who leaned back against the counter, facing him.
‘OK.’ She lowered long dusky lashes, masking her expression. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not a nice thing to do. Do you want some help?’
‘Thank you, no. Not to begin with, at least.’ He appreciated her offer, but he’d heard her reluctance and didn’t want to subject her to more pain than necessary. ‘Is there anything you’d like to keep?’
She frowned and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘What about clothes? There are lots of designer things in the wardrobes,’ he remarked, puzzled by her humourless laugh. ‘Can’t you make use of any of them?’
‘Hardly! Julia was elegant and fashionable, not to mention incredibly slender—unlike me. I’m a jeans and T-shirt girl. Even if I were more stylish I’d never fit into her clothes,’ she added with a rueful smile.
Her comments were made without edge or envy. She really believed what she was saying, Gus realised with shock. With her soft curves and natural beauty Holly was vastly more feminine and appealing than Julia had been—but he could hardly say that without revealing how he felt about her. He wanted more than anything to tell her, but doing so would mean confessing that he was a fraud—that his marriage had been a sham and he wasn’t grieving as Holly and everyone else believed. It was a dilemma of his own making, and as he wrestled with it Holly diverted his attention.
‘There is one thing I’d like to have…’
‘Go on,’ he invited, intrigued.
She clasped her hands so tightly that her knuckles whitened. ‘Julia took the family photograph album. I don’t know if it’s here, but—’
‘If I find it I’ll make sure you get it,’ he promised as her words trailed off. He could hear how much it meant to her, though it was a small enough request.
‘Thank you.’ Her relief was obvious as her shoulders relaxed and she unclasped her hands. ‘There’s something else, Gus.’ She hesitated and he waited, curious to learn what was on her mind. ‘I was just thinking…It would be good if you put some things aside for Max. It doesn’t have to be much, but a memory box of things he can have when he grows older to remember his mother.’
A lump lodged in Gus’s throat. He was touched by Holly’s generous suggestion. He knew the sisters had been at odds, yet Holly’s only thought was for Max and preserving good memories of the mother the boy would never know. It was another example of why his son was so lucky to have Holly in his life.
‘That’s a lovely idea. Thank you.’
She nodded, looking shyly embarrassed. Standing up, he returned Max to his Moses basket, smiling as his son stretched his limbs before giving a big yawn. He would never tire of watching him.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Starving,’ he confirmed in response to Holly’s question, dragging his gaze from Max and turning to face her. ‘Things were so busy today none of us got a break for a proper meal.’
‘Don’t tell me…you got through the day on endless mugs of tea and raiding the vending machine for chocolate?’ she teased him.
‘Guilty as charged.’
Shaking her head, she tried unsuccessfully to look cross. ‘There’s salad in the fridge. And I made a quiche earlier.’
‘Plus the crumble in the oven. With ice cream?’ he added hopefully, making her laugh again.
‘Maybe!’
He rubbed his stomach in anticipation. �
�Have I time to change?’
‘Plenty.’
‘I’ll be down in a few minutes,’ he promised.
Leaving the kitchen, Gus jogged upstairs and, after a quick wash in the bathroom, went to his bedroom to change into jeans and a T-shirt. Eager to sample the food awaiting him, he was just leaving his room when Max, who rarely even cried, began screaming at the top of his lungs.
The sound ripped Gus to shreds and brought a chill to his spine.
What the hell had happened?
CHAPTER TEN
‘GUS? Oh, dear God! Gus!’
Holly’s frantic call galvanised him into action and he rushed downstairs to the kitchen. ‘What’s wrong?’
Tears were streaming down Holly’s cheeks as she hugged Max close. ‘He’s been stung by a wasp. I didn’t see anything at first—he just started screaming. Then I found it inside the corner of his mouth. I got it out straight away—it’s dead—but it must have stung him at least once on the tongue or in the mouth. The swelling began immediately,’ she told him brokenly, pushing the back door shut with her foot.
Gus’s heart nearly stopped as he saw how quickly the swelling was spreading over Max’s face, mouth and throat. He wanted to grab his son, to hold him, comfort him, protect him, but every second counted and they needed to get to the hospital.
‘Take Max to the car, Holly,’ he instructed, reaching for his mobile phone. ‘I’ll ring A&E.’
Although his words were calm, he felt panicked inside. His heart was pounding. Fear threatened to paralyse him. But he had to function to help his son. Running down the path to his car, he phoned his colleagues to forewarn them of their arrival, then scrambled behind the wheel.
As a tearful Holly tried to soothe Max, whose distressed cries only added to his difficulty breathing, Gus drove to the hospital, praying they’d arrive in time to prevent a minor stupid incident taking his precious miracle baby away from him.
* * *
‘Holly, give Max to me.’
Meeting them at the emergency doors, after what seemed the longest journey of her life, registrar Dr Nathan Shepherd coaxed her to hand the baby into his care. Holly was relieved to see Nathan. He was a skilled doctor, the fiancé of her friend Annie Webster—also a registrar in A&E—and she trusted him. So did Gus.
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