Single Dad In Her Stocking

‘ED? My favourite.’ Emma’s outward breath was almost a sigh of relief. She was desperate to get out of London for a few days. At least until Christmas was over. There were too many memories here and it felt harder this year, for some reason. Maybe she hadn’t got past things as well as she thought she had. Or maybe it was because, at thirty-six, her last birthday had reminded her that the window of opportunity for having the family she’d always dreamt of was beginning to close. Worse, she still wasn’t sure she was ready to do something proactive about that. Even after nearly five years, she hadn’t ever given serious thought to changing her single status.

‘Are you sure, Em? I don’t think the Royal really expects us to be able to provide someone at such short notice and you know how crazy emergency departments can get over Christmas. People drink far too much and there’s all those weird accidents you hear about, like people falling off the roof because they’re trying to change the bulb on Rudolph’s nose or something. You could just go on holiday if you wanted to escape.Somewhere nice and warm like the Maldives. Or Australia? Goodness knows you’ve earned a break and they’re talking snow here. Possibly a white Christmas for once.’

Going on holiday alone would be the worst thing to do. It would give her far too much time to think. To remember things that were better left in the past.

‘You know me,’ she reminded Julie. ‘I kind of like crazy.’

‘What about Italy, then?’ Julie was a good friend as well as her employer. ‘When did you last have Christmas with your family?’

A long time ago. But not quite long enough, it would seem, because she still wasn’t ready for a full-on Italian-style family gathering. Or perhaps it had just become a habit because locums were always in such demand over holiday periods.

‘Are you kidding?’ Emma tried to keep her tone light. ‘My cousin has just had twins. My mother will be crying in the corner because her only child is thirty-six and still single and maybe she’ll never get any grandchildren of her own. They’ll probably drag in every eligible male in the village and try and arrange a marriage on the spot. You have no idea the kind of pressure that will entail.’ She managed a laugh. ‘Give me medical chaos any time. Please, I need to be in Cheltenham. My family won’t mind. They know I always work over Christmas.’

‘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.