Sarah's Gift

‘Is that everybody’s answer to everything?’ Jo said wildly. ‘Have a cup of tea? The universal panacea?’

‘That’s the boy,’ Jack murmured, squatting in front of her, mug in hand. ‘Here, drink up. You’re shocked. You’ll get used to it. We all start like this, full of ideals and thinking the old hands are callous. Some of us have been doing it for so long we can hardly remember what it was like to start, but we’ve all been there. You just take your time.’

He straightened. ‘I think you need to work in gently—nice easy cases, nothing too much at first. Why don’t you go with Sarah and she can show you a bit of front-of-house stuff in the triage room? Show you how the categories are made up, how the patients are sorted into priorities?’

She nodded, and Sarah slipped an arm round her and gave her a hug. ‘You’ll do. Drink your tea and come and find me—I’ll get out there now, I think there’s a bit of a queue after the last two.’

The afternoon passed a little better after that. Nothing else horrendous came in, and Sarah was able to teach Jo some of the fundamentals of processing the patients.

She seemed grateful. She even apologised for being critical, but Sarah brushed it aside, not wanting to get into this conversation. She could tell where it was leading, and she didn’t want to talk about Rob and the boys, at least not while she was at work.

She handed over to the next nursing team at four thirty, and then went into the staffroom for a cold drink, before setting off for home. She mixed the last of the squash and was drinking it when Matt came in and eyed it longingly. ‘Is there any more? I could drink the sea dry.’

‘No, sorry.’ She handed the last of it to him. ‘Here, have this.’

He drained it, his throat working, and she watched the stubble-shadowed skin of his jaw with fascination. Then he set the glass down and winked at her. ‘Thanks. I needed that. How’s the drama critic?’

She smiled, ignoring the flutter in her chest. ‘Jo? OK now.’

‘She’ll learn. Listen, about that swimming pool you told me about yesterday. I—ah—I don’t suppose you want to come with us one day this weekend? Show us where it is, have some fun?’

An icy shiver slid down her spine. ‘It’s easy to find,’ she told him evasively. ‘I could show you on a map…’

He dug up one of those smiles of his that seemed to undermine her resolve. ‘I can find it, I’m sure. I just thought it would be nice for us to have company. Anyway, I actually wanted a favour. I can’t take Emily in the men’s room any more—she’s getting a bit big, but not quite big enough to go into the ladies’ room on her own.’

‘How do you normally manage?’ she asked, ignoring the shiver.

He shrugged. ‘Usually I ask a likely-looking mum to give her a hand, but I’d be much happier knowing she was with someone I could really trust—and it can get a bit boring, waiting for her to decide she’s had enough. It would be much more pleasant with a civilised adult to talk to.’

His smile was guileless, innocent—and very appealing.

‘How about Ryan?’ she suggested, still looking for a way out.

‘I ask him for so much as it is—and, anyway, I don’t want Emily getting too close to Ryan’s kids if she’s got to leave them in a few months—besides which, if Ginny comes with Ryan I’ll feel like a gooseberry again, and if she doesn’t it won’t help with the changing-room problem.’ His smile curled round her again, decimating her defences. ‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you?’

‘Just a swim?’ she said suspiciously. ‘This isn’t a chat-up line?’

He looked surprised, and she felt suddenly foolish.

‘Oh, no,’ he hastened to assure her. ‘I’m here for just three months, and I don’t believe in quicky affairs. Trust me, I really meant only a swim, or perhaps a burger afterwards—definitely no strings, I promise.’

And just like that, she found herself talked into it. She even volunteered to be their guide over the coming weekend to show them a little bit of Suffolk—and told herself it was for the sake of the little girl, and nothing to do with a tall, rangy Canadian with a voice like roughened silk and legs that stretched halfway to Alaska…

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_ed059365-ec1f-5eb3-81c9-3ca82b79a28b)

SATURDAY morning was cold, bright and just the sort of day for a lovely brisk walk. Sarah wondered if there was the slightest chance she could talk Matt and Emily into it as an alternative to swimming, but she might have known she couldn’t.

They arrived as arranged to pick her up at nine-thirty, and when Matt pulled up on the drive in his rental Ford Emily leapt out of the back and ran to the door, just as Sarah opened it.

She looked down at the little girl and her heart sank. She knew, beyond any doubt, that they were going swimming. There was no way Sarah could disappoint her. Her eyes sparkled, her hair was flying and bouncing as she skidded to a halt, and her voice was a breathless squeak.

‘Have you got your swimsuit on? I have—I’m all ready. All I have to do is take off my jumper and jeans—’

‘Hi, there.’ Matt’s voice was low and soft and slithered over her nerve-endings, leaving her weak-kneed. ‘Emily, darling, slow down. It’s too early to be so cheerful.’

So he wasn’t a morning person, Sarah thought with a little smile. She opened the door wider. ‘Hi. Come in—I’ve just got to pick up my things.’

They followed her into the hall, and she ran upstairs and picked up the bag from her bed. She’d got it ready earlier, all the while debating whether she could bring herself to do this. Now, it seemed, she had no choice. She didn’t give herself any more time to fret about it, but ran downstairs again and smiled brightly.

‘Right, then, shall we go?’

Matt gave her a keen look and she wondered if her false cheer was really that transparent or if she had a smut on her nose.

They arrived at the swimming pool within minutes, and she took Emily through to the changing room. It was, in fact, a communal changing room, with cubicles and family areas, so Matt could have brought Emily by himself. Still, it was too late now to back out, she thought, and, anyway, she might surprise herself and enjoy it.

She always used to, but that, of course, was before—

‘Sarah? Are you ready yet?’

She looked down at Emily, bouncing and squirming on the spot, and ruffled her hair. ‘Yes, sweets, I’m ready. Come on.’

They held hands and went through the shower together, and the feel of those trusting little fingers curled around hers made Sarah forget what she was about to do. Thank God for the shower, she thought, sticking her head under it so that water ran down her face and disguised the tears. That little hand.,.

‘OK, guys?’

Her breath stopped dead in her chest. Matt was propped against the wall, legs crossed at the ankle, arms folded over a broad chest with a light scattering of hair arrowing down the centre. Water from the shower beaded his skin, glistening in the bright lights and showing off his powerful shoulders.

He shrugged away from the wall, his muscles rippling slightly, and Sarah tried to remember how her feet worked and how to make her breath go in and out. And she’d thought he looked good in clothes?

‘All set?’

She nodded, swallowing hard and dragging her eyes away from his body. Emily bounced over to him and caught his hand, towing him towards the leisure pool—and Sarah, too, because her hand was still firmly held as well. There were fountains and islands, a crocodile lurking in the shallows, and lots of little children splashing and shrieking and having a wonderful time.

She felt the tension leave her. It was just a swimming pool. She would be fine. They would be fine.

She let them lead her into the water, absently noticing a lifeguard on duty at the side of the pool, watchful eyes scanning the area, whistle at the ready to halt any silliness. Emily slipped her hand free and dived into the water, turning onto her back and beckoning Sarah.

‘Catch me!’

She turned over and sped off, slippery as an eel, darting through the water and disappearing behind an island.

‘It’s deep there,’ she began worriedly, but Matt just grinned.

‘She swims like a fish. She’s fine. You go that way, I’ll go the other.’

She went, but slowly, and wasn’t surprised to hear a little shriek and find Emily in Matt’s arms, giggling and splashing him. He released the child and followed her, disappearing under the surface and tickling her. Sarah decided they could both swim a lot better than she could, and so she left them to it, wallowing on her back in the shallows, elbows propped on the shelving ‘beach’, watching them.

Emily certainly seemed to be having fun—and so was she, Sarah discovered to her amazement. Matt appeared, swarming over the crocodile and sitting astride it, grinning. ‘Mick Dundee, ma’am, at your service,’ he said in a lousy Australian accent.