Their Double Baby Gift

Instead, he stared at the locker. Hoping. Praying. And with an unsteady hand he reached forward to pull it open.

A pair of wind-up false teeth was the first thing that caught his eye and it made him laugh. Relief! He picked it up, turning it in his hands, looking at Dr Bailey in question.

‘She used it sometimes with children.’

She smiled as she took it from him and he could see plainly on her face that she was reliving a memory. A memory of his wife that he didn’t have.

He reached into the locker and pulled out a change of clothes—a tie-dye tee shirt and a pair of jeans. Beyond them were a couple of books that were extremely late going back to the library, a couple of pens, some soft-soled flat shoes and a notebook that said Trust Me, I’m A Doctor. And there, at the back, where only she would see it when she opened her locker for each shift to get ready, a picture of them both on their wedding day.

Gently, he released it from the tape holding it in place and looked at it.

‘Your wedding day. How long ago did you get married?’

He glanced at Dr Bailey. ‘Five short years ago.’

‘You both look very happy.’

‘We were.’ It hurt to look at the picture, but not as much as it once had. He’d learned to accept it. Absorb it. Grief wasn’t something you got over. Like an obstacle. It was something that you accepted, knowing it would stay with you for the rest of your days.

‘I wish I’d known her for longer. You’re lucky that way.’

He gazed intently at her and nodded, before putting the picture with the rest of the things. ‘It’s no use either of us living in the past. We’ve both got difficult futures ahead.’

‘Being single parents, you mean? I think it’s easier now than it was twenty years ago. At least it’s accepted.’

He nodded. ‘Who do you have helping you?’

She shook her head. ‘No one. Not really.’

‘There must be someone. Family?’

‘I’m an only child. My mother died when I was very little and my dad... Well, he’s never been the reliable sort. We talk on the phone. When he remembers.’

He could tell there was something she wasn’t saying. Whatever it was, it was obviously hurtful.

‘Any friends?’

‘Jen was my friend. The only person who got close. So it’s pretty much me and Morgan right now.’

‘It’s difficult, isn’t it? Being alone.’

And then he realised he’d let his guard drop and he stiffened slightly, busying himself with Jen’s things, laying them in the box he’d brought from his office, neatly and in order.

He was surprised. He’d thought there’d be more. All this time he’d spent fearing this job, and now that he’d done it he realised there had been nothing to worry about. He let out a breath and then he closed his wife’s locker reverently, slid her name tag from the front of it and slowly started to remove her Hollywood heroes.

What to do with them? Throw them into the bin?

‘I’ll take them.’

Dr Bailey closed her hand around his and, surprised again by how her brief touch made him feel, he released the pictures and stared hard at her as she opened her own locker and put them inside. It had been the weirdest thing. Not lightning, not fireworks. More a gentle warmth. And he’d felt...soothed. As if a balm had been applied to his soul.

‘Thank you. For doing this with me.’

She turned to face him and smiled. ‘It was my pleasure.’

No, he thought. It was mine.

* * *

By the end of the day Matt had already decided that Dr Brooke Bailey was a very good member of his team. She worked at a steady pace, and she didn’t order extraneous tests that would upset the department’s budget. She got on well with everyone, seemed very popular, and though she might chat a little too much with her patients, rather than discharge them quickly, he didn’t think he had too much to complain about.

Before she’d come back he’d heard from everyone that she was a good doctor, but Matt lived by the axiom that he’d make up his own mind about people. He took them as he found them, and so far he liked what he’d found in Dr Bailey. Now the drama of the morning crèche drop-off was long gone he could see the woman and the professional that his wife had become friends with.

As he headed towards the lift, so that he could get his daughter from the crèche, he saw that she was standing waiting for it to arrive, too. They’d spoken on numerous occasions throughout the day since emptying Jen’s locker, and already he could sense that a tentative friendship was beginning.

‘Enjoy your first day?’

She smiled at him. ‘I did! Even though I was fretting about Morgan for most of it, it was nice to use my brain again and interact with adults. I think the most taxing thought I’ve had over the last few months has been whenever I’ve had to change a nappy, seen the contents and wondered, What colour is that?’

He smiled, having gone through the poo initiation tests that all babies presented to their parents. A sticky black tar to start, which looked like something that ought to be in a horror movie, oozing from a monster, then a khaki green that would hide any soldier in a jungle, and now they were into a kind of peanut butter effect. It had been an interesting journey, and one quite different from the Bristol Stool Chart that all doctors knew so well.

The lift doors pinged open and they both got inside.

‘At least I didn’t have to examine any grown-up’s stools today.’

Matt smiled to himself. Life as an A&E doctor did have that unknown element to it. You never knew what kind of case was going to walk through those doors, from something as simple as a splinter in the finger right through to a dramatic cardiac arrest. That was why he liked it. There was so much variety.

It had been the same in the army. One minute he might be dealing with a gunshot wound, the next dealing with an ingrowing toenail.

But he liked the adrenaline of working in A&E. The cases that needed to be worked on fast and efficiently, with each member of the team knowing their job, all of them working as a finely tuned machine to save someone’s life. There was nothing quite like it.

‘All jobs have their perks. Who knows? Perhaps tomorrow you might get your chance?’

She laughed, and the sound did strange things to his insides.

‘I hope not!’

He glanced at her briefly, curious as to why this woman, above all others, somehow seemed to make him feel...what? Uneasy? No, that was wrong. It wasn’t a bad feeling as such, it was...an awareness. Like the feeling you might get before a static storm. The air pregnant with expectation, holding a heat to it, a humidity.

Was it because of her connection to Jen? Was it simply because he’d been waiting for her return to work so that he could meet this woman his wife had loved?

That’s it. It’s because I know she was special to Jen.

He’d wanted to see just what it was about the enigmatic Dr Bailey that had made her so appealing to his wife. He could see that she liked to laugh, liked to enjoy herself and to make close connections with her patients. She liked others to feel listened to and cared for. But there was also a quiet assuredness about her. A silent strength that she didn’t seem aware she had. It was her solitude, perhaps, that did that. That shielded her from her own possibilities.

‘I’m sorry you caught me using my phone today. I don’t normally. Not at work. In fact I don’t normally carry my phone with me. But with it being Morgan’s first day...’

He waved away her concerns with a swift movement of his hand, staring at the lift display, watching as they ascended to the floor they needed. ‘It’s fine. We all worry about our children—especially when we’re new parents.’