Single Dad in Her Stocking

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Single Dad in Her Stocking Page 2

by Alison Roberts


  ‘Well...if you’re sure. It does have accommodation on offer as well. A modern apartment near the hospital. Let me see...a suburb called Montpellier.’

  ‘Sounds French. Trés chic.’ Emma drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s perfect, Julie. When do I need to be there?’

  ‘Early tomorrow afternoon by the latest. Someone called Miriam will give you an orientation tour and supply the keys to the apartment. I’ll text you the details.’

  It was no more than a brisk walk to the compact basement apartment where Emma lived alone. It wouldn’t take her long to pack. She’d been with London Locums long enough to know exactly what she needed to take and to be ready to leave the city at a moment’s notice if necessary. It had been a huge lifestyle change to leave her secure position as a junior consultant in a paediatric ward, but it had been the perfect choice at the time. There was an adrenaline rush to be found, never knowing what kind of job would be around the next corner. She could be taking over a general practice in a remote area to give a sole GP a proper holiday, doing aero-medical retrievals from some exotic location with a seriously ill or injured person who needed to come home or plugging a gap in a hospital roster like this time. And an emergency department really was her favourite place to work—maybe because it was a bit like her lifestyle. You got to do all sorts of exciting, satisfying things but only for a brief time. Patients got moved on to other departments. She got to move on to other positions and that was the way she liked it.

  If you never put down roots or formed deep attachments, there was no danger of having the pain of them getting ripped out, was there? Life was so much easier this way.

  A busker, just outside the park gates, was—predictably—singing a Christmas carol. Emma increased her pace as she tried to escape the lyrics of ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ because it never failed to bring tears to her eyes every time. Just those four words—born on Christmas Day—could still potentially rip a hole in her heart.

  It was five years ago now, though. She would have expected it to be getting easier year by year and it was...except for Christmas. Sometimes it felt as if the whole world was conspiring to remind her in agonising detail of how hard it had been to have coped as well as she had. Especially being here, because the hospital where it had happened—and where she’d worked at the time—was just on the other side of the park.

  Thank goodness she could head out of town first thing tomorrow.

  Emma couldn’t wait. She made a mental note to make sure she had some chains in the back of her SUV. Just in case. A town as big as Cheltenham was highly unlikely to get snowed in but it was surrounded by winding country roads and isolated villages. A white Christmas with all the extra chaos that could bring to an emergency department?

  Bring it on...

  * * *

  ‘She’s here, Max. With an apology for being a bit late but she said the traffic on the M40 was diabolical. There’d been a crash.’

  ‘No problem. At least she’s here now. Thanks, Miriam. Can you give her a really quick tour of the department to get her up to speed to start her first shift tomorrow morning and then bring her in here? I’ve got a couple of things I must finish but then I’ll be heading off to Upper Barnsley. I’ll need to be there when the children arrive.’

  ‘Of course. You’ll be wanting to give her the keys and any instructions for your apartment?’

  ‘I think it would be polite to actually show her the apartment myself. It’s only a few minutes’ walk away, after all. It’s not going to hold me up. Oh...’ Max lifted an eyebrow. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Emma...something. Sounded Italian but I can’t remember. She looks competent, though.’ Miriam’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m sure you’ll approve.’

  Max cringed just a little at the inference he couldn’t miss. Yes, he appreciated good-looking women and there never seemed to be a shortage of contenders to fill the inevitably changing position as his out-of-work-hours companion but there was something in his senior nurse’s expression that made him think his reputation might not be something to be proud of. Well, it was irrelevant now, anyway. Even if he had any opportunities to meet someone new in the foreseeable future, he wouldn’t be able to take advantage of them. He had other, far more pressing, responsibilities that were due to land on his doorstep in—he swallowed hard as he glanced at his watch—only a hour or two from now.

  He turned his attention back to the computer screen in front of him. There were a few last-minute adjustments to make to the rosters to ensure that this department ran as smoothly as possible while he couldn’t be here. He needed to give this Emma his personal mobile number as well so he could be on call to give her any advice if she needed it.

  An Emma with an Italian-sounding surname was ringing a vague bell in the back of his mind as he pulled up a spreadsheet. It came with an image of a laughing young woman surrounded by children, holding a baby that had his hands tangled in her long ponytail. A quintessential ‘earth mother’ type, which, of course, had made her an absolute ‘no-go’ type for Max—no matter how gorgeous those generous curves and dark eyes and that smile had been.

  Good grief...that had been ten years ago but the memory was astonishingly clear, now that he had dredged it up. They’d both been junior doctors on a paediatric ward at the same time. And her name was Emma...dammit...what had her surname been?

  ‘Moretti.’

  Max’s gaze flicked up to the figure standing in the doorway of his office. He’d been totally lost in thought and the fact that the answer to his internal query was being answered in person had just thrown him completely.

  ‘I’m Emma Moretti,’ she said, coming further into the small space. ‘Miriam said to pop in and see you?’

  Was it really the same woman? This Emma Moretti was nothing like the one Max had just been remembering. She was slim and smartly dressed and had short, spiky dark hair like a brunette pixie. She wasn’t smiling but her eyes were certainly dark enough. Almost as black as her hair. And she was staring at him with just the same astonished intensity that he knew he was subjecting her to.

  ‘Max? No way...’ Her lips were curving into a smile now and, suddenly, Max could see the woman he remembered. The life and soul of any party, especially if there were children involved. And that thought led straight to another party he couldn’t help but remember. The Christmas function for the staff of that paediatric ward. That sprig of mistletoe he’d held over Emma’s head. That kiss... The way they’d both laughed and blamed it on the prosecco because they couldn’t have been more wrong for each other.

  Emma was still smiling. ‘I knew the HOD was a Dr Cunningham, but I never for a moment thought it might be you. I would have imagined you to be living in a place like New York by now. Or Sydney, maybe.’

  A large, vibrant city that would be a perfect social playground for someone with a reputation like himself? That cringeworthy moment he’d had earlier came back to bite a little harder. Ten years on and he hadn’t changed much, had he?

  Unlike Emma.

  ‘And I would never have imagined you working as a locum. I would have imagined you to be completely settled in one place by now. With a husband and half a dozen kids.’

  He was genuinely curious about what had happened in her life but he knew he’d just stepped over a boundary of some kind. He saw the instant the shutters went up.

  ‘Nobody has half a dozen kids these days, Max. How irresponsible would that be, given global resources?’

  Max cleared his throat. ‘Precisely why I haven’t contributed to the population statistics myself.’ He shuffled some papers on his desk to cover the slightly awkward atmosphere. ‘Did Miriam give you enough of a tour? Are you happy to start your first shift at seven a.m. tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m happy.’ Emma’s nod was brisk. ‘I’ve had a lot of experience working in unfamiliar surroundings and I can quickly get a feel for how helpful the staff are going to be. You’
ve obviously got a great crowd here and I don’t anticipate any problems at all in covering for you. I assume you have a trauma team on call as well? With specialists from other departments?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t guarantee there’ll be a consultant from every department available on the bank holidays but there should be someone from orthopaedics, general surgery and neurology who’ll get here as fast as possible if the alert is activated. We only do that if we know there’s major trauma coming in. Otherwise, we assess and call in consults as needed. Same goes for medical or obstetric emergencies.’ Max closed down his computer and got to his feet. ‘I’ll be available by phone at any time. Don’t hesitate to call. I can probably come in if there’s a real crisis. I’ll be just outside of a village that’s halfway between Cheltenham and Cirencester, which is only twenty minutes away—unless this forecast for snow is accurate.’

  ‘I’m rather hoping for a white Christmas,’ Emma said. ‘Especially seeing as I’ve got accommodation that’s within easy walking distance.’

  ‘Speaking of which...let’s go.’ Max headed towards Emma to reach for his coat that was hanging behind the door. He caught a faint scent of something clean and crisp as he got closer. Lemons, maybe? Or mandarins...?

  ‘Sorry?’ Emma was blinking at him. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To the apartment.’ Max held open the door of his office. ‘I thought I’d show you around, seeing as it’s mine.’

  * * *

  The HOD of the Royal’s emergency department was making his own apartment available for his locum?

  And the HOD was Max Cunningham?

  Emma was still getting her head around both of these startling pieces of information as she followed him out of the emergency department via the automatic doors that led to the ambulance bay.

  It would probably be a swanky penthouse apartment, she decided. Very modern and luxurious and not at all to her taste but perfect for a brief stay. Unless...oh, help...could there be something really tacky like mirrors on the bedroom ceiling?

  Everybody had known what Max Cunningham was like back in the day of their junior rotations. Not that that stopped women from joining the queue. And why not? Max was drop-dead gorgeous, totally charming and knew how to make any woman feel special. He’d had a catchphrase, hadn’t he?

  Oh, yeah... Emma bit back a smile as they turned out from the hospital grounds and waited for a set of traffic lights to change so that they could cross the busy main road. She remembered it now.

  We’re here for a good time, not a long time...

  Playboys had never been remotely Emma’s type but she had understood the attraction. Felt it herself, in fact, even though she wouldn’t have touched him with a bargepole as far as a relationship went. The man had actually kissed her once, at that Christmas party and...and...good grief... How was it possible to remember a moment like that with such astonishing detail after so many years? She could feel her toes trying to curl themselves up inside her shoes so it was a relief to start walking swiftly across the road. She certainly wasn’t going to start wondering if the toe-curling was due to embarrassment or the intense desire that kiss had generated. There were decorations overhead, she noticed, trying to distract herself further by looking up. Long strings of icicle lights that would look very pretty at night.

  ‘Five minutes’ walk, that’s all,’ Max was saying. ‘And the place should be perfectly clean. My housekeeper went in a few days ago and gave it a thorough going-over and changed the linen and so on. I’ll make sure you have her number as well, in case you need anything else.’

  ‘That’s great. Thank you very much. I usually end up in a hotel or something when I’m doing a short locum like this.’

  ‘We did think of that, but a quick check told us that there was nothing available. For some reason, Cheltenham seems like a very popular destination for the festive season.’

  ‘No room at the inns, then?’ Emma caught Max’s sideways glance. ‘Quite appropriate, really.’

  His smile hadn’t changed at all. Or the way the corners of his eyes crinkled to make his appreciation appear completely genuine. Ten years had given him a few grey hairs and deepened those lines a bit but, if anything, they had just made Max even more attractive.

  ‘Here we are...’ Max keyed a code into the front door of a very modern building and led the way to an elevator. He pushed a button that wasn’t the top floor.

  ‘Not the penthouse?’ Emma murmured. ‘You surprise me, Max.’

  He shook his head. ‘Was I really that much of a plonker in those days?’

  ‘Not at all. From what I remember you were a brilliant doctor. You just had a reputation for playing as hard as you worked, I guess.’

  ‘Those days are over.’ He didn’t sound too happy about that, Emma thought, but he wasn’t about to tell her why. ‘The penthouse here is very nice, I believe,’ he added. ‘But it’s empty most of the time. The guy who owns it is something high up in a bank and has to travel a lot.’

  Emma followed him out of the elevator. She watched as he unlocked the door but then her gaze dropped.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All that water.’

  The carpet outside the door was soaked. As Max lifted his foot, his shoe was dripping. ‘Oh, no...’ He pushed the door open and stepped in. The tiled entranceway to his apartment shimmered like a small lake. ‘Stay there,’ he warned Emma. ‘This doesn’t look good.’

  But she followed him in, looking over his shoulder as he checked a bathroom to see whether taps had been left on. There was a bedroom that had water dripping from the bulb in the ceiling light.

  ‘It’s coming from upstairs,’ Max muttered. ‘A burst pipe, perhaps...’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been staying with my father for the last few days or I might have noticed this happening soon enough to prevent this much damage.’

  So that was the family crisis? His father being ill? He certainly didn’t need this complication on top of other worries. Emma felt very sorry for Max but it was very clear that she wasn’t going to be able to stay here. It was the main living room that was the real disaster. Enough water had seeped into the ceiling to make the plasterwork too heavy. Large sections had fallen to cover the couches and a glass-topped coffee table.

  To give him credit, Max was very calm as he took control of the situation. ‘I’ll have to call the building manager,’ he said. ‘Give me a minute.’

  As soon as he’d made the call, he turned back to Emma. ‘You can’t stay here, obviously,’ he said. ‘We’ll find a hotel nearby—there’ll probably be somewhere we overlooked before. I’ll pay for it.’ He was focused on his phone again. ‘Let’s just see what’s available on one of those comparison sites.’

  Emma had taken out her own phone. A minute or two of silence and then they both looked up.

  ‘Not looking good, is it?’ Emma said. ‘As soon as I put the dates in there’s no availability at all.’

  ‘There’ll be something.’ Max was obviously trying to sound reassuring. ‘We might have to look a bit further afield, that’s all.’ He hesitated, glancing at his watch. ‘That could take a bit of time but don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you in the lurch. You can come with me for the moment. As I said, the place I’m staying is only twenty minutes away so, even if we can’t find you a suitable hotel room tonight, it won’t be a difficult commute tomorrow morning unless the weather turns nasty.’

  ‘I’ve got chains,’ she told him. ‘But...this is your father’s house you’re talking about, yes?’ A hotel room would be preferable. Perhaps Emma should just stay in town and keep trying to find something.

  ‘He’ll be just as concerned as I am that my locum is well looked after,’ Max said. ‘It’s a big house and there’s more than enough room for visitors. It was probably built to cater for a Victorian couple who had twelve children.’ He gestured for Emma to lead th
e way out of the apartment. ‘They weren’t so worried about global resources in those days.’

  He might be making a joke but a glance at his face suggested to Emma that the hypothetical camel’s back might have just been loaded with the last straw.

  ‘I should keep trying to find a hotel,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude. Not if your father is so unwell.’

  ‘Unwell?’ Max’s eyebrows rose. ‘He’s as fit as a fiddle.’ He looked at his watch again and stifled a groan. ‘Come on, you’ll have to follow me to Upper Barnsley in your car. We don’t have that much time before the children arrive.’

  Children?

  But hadn’t Max said that he hadn’t personally contributed to the population statistics? Emma was curious but the look of fierce concentration on Max’s face was enough to stop her asking any more questions as they hurried back to the hospital car park. Besides, the mention of children had reminded her of that assumption he’d voiced—that she would have a husband and a tribe of children by now—and there was a sting in that assumption that needed to be dealt with. Back in those days, she had assumed exactly the same thing so it was no wonder he was surprised. She had been more than surprised herself, of course. Having her life derailed like that had been devastating but at least she was well past the toughest time of her life, when working only with children and babies as a specialist paediatrician had proved hard enough to have dimmed the joy and she’d been tempted to change the direction she had chosen for her career. She could cope with children.

  As long as she didn’t get too close to them...

  Life had a habit of upending plans sometimes and it appeared that it was happening again, Emma decided, as she followed Max out of town and into the pretty countryside of the Cotswolds with its narrow roads and tiny villages full of trees and stone-built cottages. Her most recent plans had already gone more than a little awry, with her accommodation proving uninhabitable. The person she was replacing was unexpectedly someone she had once been more than a little attracted to, even though she would never have gone there, and she was now being whisked away to some unknown but large house by this still very attractive man and there were children involved, which didn’t make any sense at all. Unless Max had acquired an instant family by marrying someone who already had children? Or this house with far too many bedrooms was being run as some kind of foster home or orphanage?

 

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