Tempted by Dr. Daisy Read online

  She eased away. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘God knows. I’ll have to wing it. Will you and Evan be able to manage the antenatal clinic without me? And the Grieves twins’ check-up? I’m not sure what time their appointment is, I might be able to make it,’ he added, thinking on his feet.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll cope,’ she said calmly. ‘I can email the scans to Matt, can’t I, and get his verdict, if necessary. The clinic will be fine.’

  ‘It’s not just Monday, Daisy,’ he said, troubled. ‘I’m on call all week, and Jane’s mother’s away till Tuesday and in any case she can’t do the nights because she takes sleeping pills. It could go on for weeks. What the hell am I going to do?’

  ‘Accept my help?’ she said simply, although there was nothing simple about it and they both knew it, but there was no choice for her, Daisy realised. She’d just have to protect her heart as well as she could, but she couldn’t walk away from them when they needed her. ‘I’ll stay with you and cover you when I’m not on call myself. We’ll get through this.’

  He wanted to hug her again, but it didn’t somehow seem like a good idea, so he just thanked her, sighed with relief and went back out to the garden to Florence. She was sitting on the edge of the path talking very seriously to Froggy, and he stood and watched her for a moment, overwhelmed by his love for her.

  ‘She’s going to be fine,’ Daisy said softly from his side, and he nodded.

  She was. But how about them? Daisy was going to be staying here, in his house, so near and yet so far. How on earth were they going to cope with that?

  Jane came out of hospital on Tuesday afternoon, at which point his life went back to normal. Well, his work life, anyway. His home life was a different matter.

  Florence stayed with him as planned, and he dropped her off every morning at nursery and picked her up from Jane’s when he finished work. Jane wasn’t well enough to cope with Florence after nursery school, her head still aching constantly, so her mother did the afternoon nursery school runs and fed her, but she couldn’t really cope with much more.

  And then there were the nights, and because he was on call for the week, and because nobody was able to swap, it was Daisy who picked up the pieces.

  Dear, beloved Daisy, who kept out of the way in her own house all evening unless he had to call on her, and then slept on the sofabed in his sitting room from midnight to six and was gone before Florence woke.

  He had to call her back on Thursday morning, because he was paged by the hospital, and she came round with her hair wound up in a towel and her dressing gown on.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll be back in time to take her to nursery,’ he said apologetically. ‘I could be a while in Theatre, by the sound of it. Nasty RTA. I don’t know what I might have to do.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take her to nursery, I know where it is.’

  ‘Thanks. I owe you. I’ll put the car seat by your car.’

  And without thinking, he leant over and kissed her. Just lightly, but it was enough to shock her immobile. Him, too. Their eyes locked, and after a breathless second he moved away, grabbed his keys and went out of the back door.

  She sucked in a breath and went upstairs to wake Florence and take her back to her house, armed with her clothes and toothbrush, her lips still tingling.

  ‘Shall we have breakfast?’ she asked when they got there, and Florence nodded. They looked in the cupboard and found some cereal, but it was a bit ancient. Daisy tasted it and pulled a face.

  ‘Is it horrid?’ Florence asked.

  ‘Very horrid. It’s like yucky cardboard. Shall we have toast, instead?’

  ‘I like toast.’

  ‘Good. So do I.’

  ‘Have you got peanut butter? I love peanut butter.’

  ‘No. I’ve got chocolate spread, though.’

  Florence’s eyes widened, and Daisy spread it liberally on her toast and then winced as Florence managed to get it all over the table and her face and hands.

  While Tabitha licked the table clean, Daisy cleaned her up, swiping the wriggling, giggling child with a damp flannel, and then she took her upstairs to dress them both, wondering as she did so how Ben was getting on.

  ‘I don’t want to go to nursery,’ Florence told her as they pulled up outside, her bottom lip sticking out. ‘I want to stay with you.’

  She’d been expecting it. One of the life-skills she’d acquired during her time with Mike had been taking the children to school on occasions, and they’d always tried it on.

  ‘It would be nice, wouldn’t it?’ she said placidly. ‘But I have to go to work and help all the mummies have their new babies, and you have to go to nursery and see all your friends. I tell you what, though, it’ll soon be the weekend, and if Daddy has to go to the hospital, if you’re a good girl now I’ll take you to the playground, and maybe we can take a picnic. How about that?’

  She brightened instantly. ‘A picnic? Can we take Froggy?’

  She stifled a laugh. That wretched concrete frog was destined to feature in every conversation!

  ‘I expect so. Go on, in you go, darling. I’ll see you later.’

  Florence took two steps up the path, then ran back and reached up, and Daisy bent and kissed her goodbye, her heart contracting as Florence cuddled close for a second before running off again.

  Dear, sweet child. She loved her so much. If only she could dare to trust in this love, could trust herself not to fail, could trust Ben not to leave—so many if onlys.

  She got back in the car and hurried to work, to find Ben just coming out of Theatre.

  ‘How is she?’

  He shook his head. ‘Rough, but we saved the baby—thirty seven weeks, perfect little boy and he’s doing well. But Mum’s got a nasty tear in her liver and massive blood loss. They’re working on her now but I don’t know if she’ll make it, and Dad’s got a fractured femur.’

  ‘Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Yeah. Life sucks sometimes. I’m just going to find him and tell him he’s a father. I’ll leave the rest of the news till after he’s had his leg pinned. They might know more by then. How’s Florence?’

  ‘Fine. She’s at nursery, but I had to bribe her with the offer of a picnic in the playground at the weekend.’

  He gave a soft huff of laughter, and unexpectedly, his eyes glazed. ‘You’re such a star,’ he murmured, and then dragging in a breath, he walked away to find the father.

  She didn’t envy him but she knew he’d handle it well, because for all he managed to keep his emotions to himself most of the time, he was very sensitive to other people’s feelings.

  It was one of the very, very many things about him that she loved.

  They met up for coffee, and he was looking happier. ‘Sheena Lewis made it,’ he told her.

  ‘Your mum with the liver?’

  ‘Yeah. Baby’s fine, she’s going to recover, Dad’s been pinned and plated and the grandparents are on their way to look after the kids. They’ve got five, apparently—four of his, and this one. They’ve only been married just under a year.’

  ‘And she’s taken on his four children?’

  ‘Mmm. She must be a saint.’

  ‘Or very brave,’ she said softly, wishing…

  She met the mother later that day, resting quietly in a side room with her baby beside her looking none the worse for wear, and while she was checking Sheena, her mother-in-law came in with two of the children.

  ‘Hello, darlings,’ Sheena said weakly, her eyes filling with tears, and they leant carefully over and kissed her cheeks, one each side, their little faces worried.

  Bless their little hearts, Daisy thought, and was on her way out when their grandmother stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  ‘Are you attached to her doctor? Ben something, I think?’ she asked quietly, and Daisy nodded. Attached? You could say that, she thought, and resisted the urge to laugh hysterically or burst into tears.

  ‘Yes, I’m his registrar.
If you want to talk to him I’m sure he’s around.’

  ‘Oh, no, don’t disturb him. I just wanted to thank him for saving the baby, and keeping Dan so well informed. He was so worried, and he kept him right up to date apparently and really put his mind at rest. And he didn’t lie about how serious it was. Dan was really grateful for that—it meant he could trust him.’

  How like Ben. Tell the awful truth, but do it so carefully, so sensitively that it didn’t break the person receiving it.

  ‘I’ll tell him. Thank you. Please don’t make her too tired, will you? She’s been through an awful lot.’

  ‘No, we won’t, but the children were desperate to see her. My husband’s got the younger ones downstairs in the café keeping them amused for a minute, and then we’re taking them home.’

  ‘Well, good luck with it. I don’t envy you.’ Liar!

  ‘Oh, we love it, and we’d do anything for them,’ Mrs Lewis said with a doting smile. ‘Sheena’s been a godsend to the family. We all love her to bits.’

  ‘I’m sure you do.’

  Daisy summoned a smile and left. If only Mike’s family had felt like that. If only he had felt like that, instead of just making use of her until he’d convinced his wife to have him back.

  No! Stop thinking about the past. It’s done. Forget it.

  And move on?

  She felt a shiver of something. Fear? Anticipation?

  Hope?

  If only…

  Their arrangement worked fine until the weekend, and then all hell broke loose at work and it all got much more complicated.

  He was in and out all Friday night, and then again in the morning, and it became obvious to Daisy that she was going to have to be there all the time. And that brought guilt, because Tabitha was getting lonely.

  But maybe she didn’t need to feel guilty, because Tabitha was also getting braver, and while Daisy was in the kitchen making a picnic to take to the playground, she looked up and found Florence sitting on the lawn with Froggy on one side and Tabitha, just out of reach, on the other, as if she was trying to decide if Florence was OK or not.

  She smiled, but it was bitter-sweet. There was no point in Tabitha getting used to Florence, because they were going to move. At least, that was the plan, but she’d done nothing about it. There weren’t any jobs, or none that she wanted, and she wasn’t going to move until she found one. That would be foolish.

  Only marginally less foolish than being here like this with Florence.

  Her phone rang, and she glanced at the display as she answered it. ‘Hi, Ben. How’s it going?’

  ‘OK. Where are you?’

  ‘In the kitchen, making a picnic. Why?’

  ‘Because I’m done here. Are you about to go?

  ‘Yes—five minutes?’

  ‘Make me a sandwich. I’ll be with you.’

  She slid the phone back in her pocket and sighed. He was hijacking their picnic, taking it and making it something it wasn’t meant to be, and she felt sweat break out on her palms.

  She could do covering Florence, because that was babysitting in an emergency. But—picnicking with her and her father, in the playground? That was lunacy. Playing happy families, for heavens’ sake. Not wise. So, so not wise.

  She shut her eyes briefly, then opened them again and reached for the bread, and as she did so, she saw Tabitha curl up beside Florence and settle down, the little girl’s hand stroking her incredibly gently, and without warning hot, scalding tears spilled down her cheeks.

  He got back just as Daisy put the last few things into a bag.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ she said crisply. ‘You can carry the lunch. Or Froggy. Take your pick.’

  He felt his eyebrows crunch together. ‘Froggy?’ he said incredulously, and then started to laugh. ‘Oh, God, Daisy, we’ve made a monster.’

  ‘We haven’t made anything,’ she said flatly, and hoisting the bag off the worktop, she went out into the garden, leaving him to follow in confusion.

  ‘Is it time? Are we going?’ Florence asked, dancing from foot to foot, and they set off three abreast with Florence skipping in between them.

  ‘Can we do “One two three whee?”’ she asked, holding up her arms, and in unison they both said, ‘No!’

  Their eyes met over her head, remembering her elbow, remembering the conversation they’d had shortly before, in the very playground they were going to. Daisy’s eyes clouded, but he was the first to look away.

  ‘We have to be careful with your elbow. You can go on the swing,’ he told her firmly.

  ‘Will you push me really high?’

  ‘Really high,’ he promised.

  ‘Can Froggy come on the swing?’

  And to think that last week she’d been so subdued, and he’d been worried! Whatever had been wrong with her had clearly passed and left her full of beans, and he wondered what kind of a day Daisy had had with her. Hellish, probably, judging by her rather short greeting.

  Oh, damn. Was she mad with him because he’d gatecrashed their picnic? He’d thought it would help, dilute her interaction with Florence, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe it just made it worse.

  He took Florence on the swing with Froggy watching safely from the sidelines, and he watched Daisy setting out the picnic out of the corner of his eye. She was kneeling on a rug under a tree, unloading all the goodies, and then she looked up and waved them over.

  ‘Is it time for our picnic?’ Florence asked, and she nodded, so Ben lifted her out of the seat and she ran over, settling down cross legged on the rug and patting the space next to her for Froggy—which left a space for him beside Daisy.

  Damn. He’d hoped—what had he hoped? That a concrete frog would be enough to keep them apart? Hardly. A brick wall would be more like it. And this had been his idea. He could just as easily have stayed at the hospital, but it didn’t seem fair, and after the week they’d all had, he’d just longed to do something normal.

  Something a family would do.

  He picked up a sandwich at random and bit into it, then stopped in his tracks, his mouth rebelling.

  ‘What…?’

  ‘Chocolate spread,’ Daisy said. ‘Florence chose it.’

  He looked at it in a mixture of confusion and disgust, and she took pity on him. ‘I suppose you’d rather have ham and cheese and chutney?’ she said, trying not to laugh, and he handed Florence the chocolate spread sandwich, swallowed the single bite reluctantly and took the sandwich Daisy was offering him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said fervently. ‘For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to eat it or starve.’

  ‘Would I do that to you?’ she murmured, but he just grunted and ate his sandwich, and she watched Florence chomping her way through the chocolate spread sandwich and a small banana and some crisps, in no particular order, and wished she could bottle this moment and get it out, in the long dark days ahead after she’d found another job and moved away and Florence and Ben were in the past.

  She picked a daisy out of the grass, and then another, absently slitting the stem of the first and threading the other through it, then adding another, and another—

  ‘What are you doing?’ Florence asked curiously, and she blinked and dragged herself back to the here and now.

  ‘Making a daisy chain. It doesn’t matter if we pick them, the daisies are weeds, really, they don’t belong here.’ Funny, that, she thought. Another Daisy that didn’t belong. ‘Look—if you slit the stem with your nail, and you’re very careful, you can thread another one through, and if you do it enough times you can make a necklace.’

  Florence’s little fingers couldn’t manage, but she could pick them, very carefully. ‘Keep the stems as long as you can,’ Daisy asked, ‘and mind you don’t squash them.’

  And as Ben watched and Florence brought her the little white flowers that didn’t belong, she made a necklace for Florence and put it over her head. ‘There you go, Princess. Your very own daisy chain.’

  Her eyes were huge
blue saucers. ‘It’s really pretty,’ she said, stroking it as carefully as she would a tiny bird. ‘Daddy, look!’

  ‘I’m looking,’ he said gruffly, and Daisy glanced up and caught his eyes, and her breath jammed in her throat.

  Oh, no. No, no, no! They weren’t supposed to be doing this! Where was his pager when she needed it? Not that she wanted some poor woman to have an emergency, but if anybody was planning one, now would be a good time.

  Nobody was.

  And Ben, lounging back on one elbow so he was half facing her, plucked a daisy off the little pile that Florence had created and fingered it thoughtfully.

  ‘I can remember, when we were kids, the girls would get a daisy and pull the petals off, one by one, and as they did it they’d say, “He loves me,” then “he loves me not,” each time they’d pull a petal out, like this, until they got to the last one, and then they’d pull it out, too, like this— “He loves me”,’ he ended, pulling the last few petals out in one and looking straight into Daisy’s eyes.

  He loves me.

  She swallowed and looked hastily away.

  ‘What does he loves me not mean?’ Florence asked.

  ‘It means he doesn’t love me,’ Daisy told her, and looked pointedly at Ben, who just smiled sadly and got to his feet.

  ‘Come on, Florence. Let’s go on the see-saw.’

  ‘With Daisy!’ she squealed, getting to her feet and pulling Daisy up, and what was she supposed to say to that?

  Staring daggers at him, she sat on the end of the see-saw, Florence cuddled up to her as she’d been before, all those weeks ago, and damn him, he just smiled sadly at her and rocked them gently up and down, up and down, singing, ‘See-saw, Marjorie Daw, Johnny shall have a new master,’ his deep voice soft and warm and curiously comforting. Daisy closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at him, but she could still hear him, could imagine him quietly rocking a baby and singing nursery rhymes, and her heart was splintering as he sang, and the see-saw rose and fell, and rose and fell, until at last she couldn’t bear it any more.