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CHAPTER ONE

SHE’D been dumped. No matter how hard Nell Sutherland stared at the email on her computer screen, she knew it wasn’t going to change. She’d been dumped. And not in person, not even in a phone call or a letter, but in a sodding email sent to her at work.

I expect you’ve realised we’ve grown apart.

Well, actually, no, I hadn’t realised that, Nell thought. In fact, it would have been kind of hard for me to know anything when I’m here in Glasgow, and you’re in New York, and for the last six months you’ve ended all your phone calls with the words ‘Love you—miss you.’

I’ve met a wonderful girl called Candy.

And what does that make me? Nell thought with a spurt of anger. You must have thought I was wonderful once, Brian, or you wouldn’t have lived with me for a year, or suggested we get engaged before you went to the States. And what sort of name was Candy? Candy was sweets, not women. Unless, of course, the woman in question was eye-candy and she’d bet her next ward manager’s pay cheque that Candy was.

‘Nell, Tommy Moffat’s blood test results are back from the lab.’

Nell minimised the email quickly, fixed a bright and perky ‘all’s right with my world’ smile to her lips, and turned to face the neonatal intensive care unit secretary.

‘Good news, or bad?’ she said, and Fiona frowned.

‘Frustrating would be a better word. Tommy doesn’t have anaemia, or any sign of an infection, so it looks like you’re back to square one.’

‘Damn,’ Nell muttered, taking the results the secretary was holding out to her. ‘Jonah was sure his failure to thrive was due to another bout of sepsis. He’s going to freak when he hears it’s not.’

Jonah would. The specialist registrar had always been a dedicated doctor but since Gabriel Dalgleish, the consultant in charge of the neonatal intensive care unit at the Belfield Infirmary, had left him temporarily in charge of the unit while he was away on his honeymoon, Jonah’s dedication to the babies had gone into overdrive.

‘He’s working too hard,’ Fiona observed, as though she’d read Nell’s mind. ‘Can’t you get him to relax or, better yet, find him somebody to relax with as you did for Gabriel?’

Nell laughed. She’d been as amazed as the rest of the staff to see their brusque and aloof consultant fall in love with her cousin Maddie, but finding somebody for Jonah Washington was another thing entirely.

‘If I had a flat tyre, Jonah would be the first man I’d call,’ she said. ‘If I needed help moving some furniture, it would be Jonah I’d ask. He’s my best friend next to my cousin Maddie, but…’

‘But no wow factor,’ Fiona finished for her, and Nell nodded.

Jonah was…well, Jonah was just Jonah. A six foot four inches, solid bear of a man with light brown hair, and dark brown eyes, he was a rock any sensible woman would want to cling to in a storm but he definitely had no wow factor.

Brian had the wow factor by the bucketful. Tall, blond, with deep blue eyes and a devastating smile, he’d arrived at the Belfield Infirmary two years ago as the new consultant in charge of the anaesthetics department. He’d also arrived with a reputation as a heartbreaker but as Nell had never for one second imagined he’d be interested in a girl who was five feet nine, with a figure even her best friends described as ‘generous’, she’d treated him casually, dismissively, only to be completely stunned when he’d asked her out.

I’ll always be very fond of you, Nell, but it’s better for us both to know now that it would never have worked out than for us to have got married and been unhappy.

Yes, but better for who, Brian? she wondered, feeling tears prick at the backs of her eyes.

She was the one who was going to have to tell everybody at the Belfield their engagement was off. She was the one who would have to endure the false sympathy, the pitying looks, the whispered comments of how they’d all known it wouldn’t last, not a girl like her with a man like Brian, while he was safe in New York.

‘Nell, are you OK?’

A slight frown was creasing Fiona’s forehead and Nell forced her bright and chirpy smile back into place.

‘Fine, absolutely fine,’ she said, getting briskly to her feet. ‘I’d better take these results along to Jonah and Bea. They’ve been stressing about them all morning.’

‘It must be odd, watching someone else doing your old ward sister’s job,’ Fiona said, as she followed Nell out of her small office.

‘It is,’ Nell admitted, ‘but Bea’s settled in really well even if she will persist in calling me Sister Sutherland instead of Nell.’

‘Apparently, the ward manager of her last NICU was a real stickler for protocol.’

‘Then her last ward manager needed to get a life,’ Nell declared. ‘My main concern is the smooth running of the unit, not whether people call me by my surname or my first name.’

Fiona laughed. ‘Yes, but, then, you’ve never been big on attitude, have you?’

She hadn’t, and maybe that had been her mistake. Maybe if she’d insisted on going to New York with Brian, instead of meekly accepting his decision that she should stay in Scotland, none of this would have happened.

‘It would be crazy for us both to uproot ourselves from the Belfield Infirmary for just a year,’ he’d said. ‘I’m only going because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me to see how an anaesthetics department works in the States. I know we’ll miss one another but I’ll be back in Glasgow before you know it.’

Except now he wouldn’t. He would be staying in New York with Candy. Candy who was probably a petite and perfect size six, with gleaming white teeth and the kind of tumbling blonde hair that wouldn’t look out of place in a shampoo commercial.

‘Nell, are you sure you’re OK?’

Fiona’s eyes were curious now, speculative, and Nell hitched her smile up so high it was a wonder her face didn’t crack.

‘I’ve just got a bad attack of Monday morning winter blues, that’s all.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Fiona said with feeling. ‘I hate October. It’s such a depressing, absolutely nothing sort of a month, isn’t it? I wish it was Christmas. It will be George’s first, you know.’

And, as the secretary babbled on about her baby son, Nell made polite noises and scarcely heard her.

Where had it all gone wrong? How had it all gone wrong? She loved Brian. She’d thought he loved her. He’d said he did. He’d even said he loved her curves, but he’d also never objected when she’d told him she was going on yet another diet. Maybe if she’d stuck to the diets. Maybe if she hadn’t confessed to him that her blonde highlights were fake and she was actually a dull and mousy brown underneath. Maybe if…

‘Is that Tommy Moffat’s blood test results?’

Jonah Washington was walking down the corridor towards them and, as Fiona hurried back to her office, Nell handed him the results and waited for the explosion to come.

It did.

‘If he’s not anaemic, or caught another infection, then what the hell’s wrong with him?’ Jonah exclaimed, dragging his fingers through his straight brown hair, making it look even more unruly than usual. ‘I know he was twelve weeks premature, but preemies normally gain weight quite quickly once we’ve stabilised them and yet his weight gain in the two weeks he’s been in NICU has been minuscule.’

‘At least he is putting on weight,’ Nell declared. ‘I know it’s not been much, but eating is one of the most energy-consuming processes for any newborn and preemie’s digestive tracts are often just not sufficiently developed to handle food even if it’s through an IV line.’

‘Bea wonders if he could have necrotising enterocolitis,’ Jonah said as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘I know there’s no sign of tension in his stomach or blood in his bowels—’

‘Jonah, if Tommy had any damage to his intestines, it would have shown up on the X-rays,’ Nell interrupted gently.

‘Yes, but what if the X-ray equipment is faulty?’

‘It’s highly unlikely.’

‘But what if it is?’

‘Jonah.’

He stared at her silently for a moment, then his lips quirked. ‘I’m overreacting, aren’t I?’

‘Just a bit,’ she said, and he laughed.

‘Good old Nell. What would I do without you to keep me grounded?’

Good old Nell. That was how everybody saw her. Good old Nell, always game for everything, when in reality she was sometimes so nervous at social events that she felt physically sick. Good old Nell, who made jokes about her height and her weight but only to prevent other people making them first. How in the world was she ever going to get Brian back? And she did want him back. Desperately.

‘Nell, is there something wrong?’ Jonah said, his brown eyes suddenly concerned, and she managed a shaky laugh.

‘You’re the second person to ask me that this morning, and I’m fine. Just suffering from a bad attack of ward manager’s paperwork blues.’

‘You’re sure that’s all it is?’ he pressed, and she felt a betraying flush of colour creep across her cheeks.

Hellfire and damnation. Jonah always seemed to sense when something was wrong with her, but she didn’t want to tell him about Brian. Not yet, at any rate. Not when she was so perilously close to tears.

‘Of course I’m sure,’ she insisted. ‘You’ve seen my office, Jonah. I’m drowning under forms and requisition sheets in there.’

For a moment she didn’t think he believed her, then, to her relief, he nodded.

‘Snap. I always used to wonder why Gabriel was first into the unit and last to leave. Now I know.’

‘But you’re enjoying being temporary master of all you survey,’ she said, and he grinned.

‘I think everyone has a little bit of the dictator in them.’

‘You, a dictator?’ She laughed. ‘Jonah, you’re as soft as butter.’

‘Says the girl who’s a complete pushover,’ he countered, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she kept her smile in place.

‘Do you want me to set up Tommy’s tests again?’ she said, deliberately changing the subject.

‘I’d feel happier if we did,’ he admitted. ‘I know you think I’m panicking needlessly…’

‘But your gut instinct says something’s wrong,’ she finished for him. ‘OK, I’ll reschedule the tests, but I’ll bet you a fiver he’s simply a slow developer.’

‘You’re on,’ he said as he led the way into the special care section of the unit.

‘I see Donna’s mother is here again,’ Nell murmured, noticing Mrs Harrison sitting beside her daughter’s incubator.

‘Mrs Harrison is always here.’ Jonah sighed. ‘I’ve tried telling her there’s no cause for concern, that her daughter is only in Special because she developed jaundice after she was born. Could you have a word with her? I’ve done my best, but it’s like talking to a brick wall.’

It was.

‘But I have to stay with Donna,’ Sheila Harrison protested when Nell voiced Jonah’s concern. ‘If I leave her she might…she might…’

‘Sheila, jaundice isn’t a life-threatening condition,’ Nell declared. ‘It’s simply caused by bilirubin, a byproduct of the natural breakdown of blood cells, not being recycled back into the body by the liver as it should be. We’re giving Donna extra fluids and light therapy, and her body is now eliminating the excess bilirubin so we should be able to transfer her to Transitional quite soon.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘You have a boy of six and a girl of four, don’t you?’ Nell interrupted, and Sheila nodded.

‘My mother’s looking after them. She’s been great.’

‘I’m sure she has, but she’s not your children’s mum, is she? Sheila, tell me something,’ Nell continued when the woman said nothing. ‘How much time have you spent with your son and daughter since Donna was born?’

Sheila looked at her as though she was insane. ‘Sister, my baby’s lying here ill, and you’re asking me how how much time I’ve…I’ve…’

‘Been out enjoying yourself?’ Nell finished for her. ‘Sheila, you mustn’t neglect your other children because Donna has to stay in the unit for a little while. If you do, they’re going to resent her before you’ve even take her home.’

‘But—’

‘You need to spend time with them, and you need to take care of yourself,’ Nell continued. ‘Even if all you do is go for a walk, or read a book for an hour, it will relax you, make you less stressed, and the less stressed you are the better you’ll be able to cope.’

‘I guess so,’ Sheila said uncertainly, then tears filled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Sister. I thought I’d just take Donna home after she was born, like I did with my other kids, but life—it has a horrible habit of slapping you in the face sometimes, doesn’t it?’

Tell me about it, Nell thought as she gave Mrs Harrison’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking towards the unit door. That morning, when she’d got up she’d thought she had it all. A fiancé, her new promotion to ward manager of the neonatal intensive care unit of the Belfield Infirmary, and now…

Now nobody’s eyes would light up any more when they saw her. Nobody would make her feel loved, and special, the way Brian had.

‘Nell?’

Jonah looked apologetic and her heart sank.

‘Tell me the worst,’ she said.

‘Admin want a word about your patient through-put figures, the rep from the pharmaceutical company has just arrived, and Maternity are querying your transfer documentation for Adam Thornton.’

‘What’s there to query?’ she protested. ‘Adam was born in Maternity on Saturday. He developed breathing problems on Sunday and they transferred him down to us.’

‘Apparently you didn’t complete the form in triplicate. Sorry, Nell,’ Jonah added as she groaned. ‘It looks like it’s going to be one of those days.’

He didn’t know the half of it, she thought, but, then, neither did she. It turned out to be a nightmare Monday. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. One of the ward nurses dropped Tommy Moffat’s new blood samples just after they’d been taken, Bea screwed up the time the ophthalmologist was supposed to arrive to check Donna Harrison’s eyes, the pharmaceutical rep overstayed his welcome by a good hour, and as for Admin…

‘I tell you, Fiona,’ Nell said as she shut the drawer of her filing cabinet with a bang. ‘If Admin had phoned me one more time today I would have—’

‘Marched down to the second floor and rammed the phone down their throats?’ the departmental secretary suggested, and Nell shook her head grimly.

‘I was thinking of somewhere considerably more painful.’ She glanced at the clock on her office wall. ‘Lord, is it half past eight already? I’m off home for a bath, and a mindless evening spent curled up on the sofa in front of the TV.’

‘But you can’t,’ Fiona protested. ‘We’re all supposed to be going down to the function suite after we finish our shifts. For Wendy’s leaving bash, remember?’

Nell hadn’t remembered, and now she’d been reminded she didn’t want to go. Wendy might be a lovely girl, and terrific at hurrying up their test results when they sent them down to Urology, but she was leaving because she was pregnant. Which meant tonight’s event would be dominated by jokes about bumps and stomach-churning Oh-my-God-but-I-thought-I-was-being-torn-in-two stories, and she didn’t want to listen to either.

‘Fiona, I’m sorry, but—’

‘Jonah, tell Nell there’s no way she can duck out of Wendy’s farewell buffet,’ Fiona interrupted, as the specialist registrar appeared at Nell’s office door. ‘We’re all expected, aren’t we?’

‘Nobody is going to notice if I’m not there,’ Nell protested. ‘I’m so tired, and by the time I go home, get changed—’

‘You don’t need to change,’ Jonah declared. ‘Just take off your uniform and put on what you came into work in. That’s what I’m going to do.’

Yes, but I bet you didn’t come into work wearing your oldest denim shirt and tatty jogging trousers, Jonah.

‘We’re not going to take no for an answer, Nell,’ Jonah continued as she opened her mouth to say just that. ‘And I bet you anything, you’ll have a ball.’

He’d been wrong, Nell thought, an hour later as she stood rammed up against the wall of the function suite unable to move because of the crush of people around her. An hour spent having her bikini line waxed would have been infinitely preferable to listening to everybody enjoying themselves while she felt as though her heart was breaking.

Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed them back. Lord, but she was getting maudlin now, and she hadn’t even had that much to drink. Just two glasses of wine because Jonah still hadn’t returned from the scrum around the bar with another one for her.

‘What are you doing hiding away in this corner?’ Liz Fenton, the sister from obs and gynae, demanded as she pushed her way through the throng towards her. ‘You’re usually right out there in the middle of everything.’

‘Rough day, Liz,’ Nell muttered, trying to sidestep her colleague without success.

‘Fiona was telling me Maddie and Gabriel are in Sweden at the moment, then they’re off to Philadelphia and Boston, before coming back to Glasgow via Rome.’

Nell nodded. ‘They’ll be away for six weeks in all.’

‘Nice for some,’ Liz said dryly. ‘My honeymoon was two weeks in Inverness. It rained every day.’

‘Be fair, Liz, Gabriel’s never taken all of his annual leave,’ Nell protested. ‘And he’s using part of his honeymoon to check out all the new developments in neonatal care in Europe and the States.’

‘Poor Maddie.’ Liz laughed. ‘I hope you’ve told Brian you’ve no intention of spending any of your honeymoon visiting anaesthetic departments.’

I want to go home, Nell thought. I just want to go home.

‘Wendy looks radiant, doesn’t she?’ Liz continued. ‘Have you and Brian decided whether you’re going to try for a baby right away after you’re married, or wait for a bit?’

‘If she’s any sense, she’ll wait,’ Fiona said, appearing at their side. ‘Not that I’d ever be without George, but when I remember all the stitches I needed after he was born. Maternity said…’

Get me out of here, Nell thought as Fiona launched into a wince-inducing account of how George’s head had been so big he’d torn her vagina in two places. Somebody—anybody—please, get me out of here.

‘Maybe I should help Jonah with our drinks,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s so crowded in here.’

Liz groaned. ‘Oh, hell, Patty’s crying again.’

‘Patty?’ Nell repeated. ‘Who’s Patty?’

‘Patty Burton, one of the radiology technicians. Her boyfriend dumped her at the weekend.’

Nell glanced in the direction of Liz’s gaze and saw a girl in a tiny, figure-hugging black dress, sobbing into a handkerchief. Know how you feel, Patty. Well, she didn’t know how it felt to wear a tiny, figure-hugging black dress, but she did know all about the being dumped part.

‘Maybe one of us should go over, see if we can help?’ Nell said uncertainly, and Liz shook her head.

‘Not unless you want her to listen to her repeat “But I love him” for the rest of the evening.’

‘Maybe she does,’ Nell protested. ‘And if she does, she must be feeling awful.’

‘Agreed.’ Fiona nodded. ‘But walking around like a wet lettuce isn’t going to get him back, is it? What she needs is to start dating somebody else, make her rat-fink ex-boyfriend jealous, let him see what he’s missing.’

Which was fine in theory, Nell thought, except the world wasn’t exactly overflowing with eligible, fanciable men.

‘I know it must be tough if you’ve picked a jerk,’ Liz observed, ‘but there’s lots of good men out there. Look at my Sandy.’

Nell preferred not to. No man who was obsessed with rare chicken breeds could ever light her fire.

‘Or Fiona’s Graham, or your Brian, Nell,’ Liz continued. ‘Loyal, dependable, every one of them. And speaking of Brian,’ the obs and gynae sister continued, ‘you must be missing him like crazy.’

‘I…I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me,’ Nell said desperately. ‘I’ve just seen…’

Nobody. She’d seen nobody, but she had to get away or Wendy’s leaving bash was going to have two sobbing members of staff as a sideshow.

‘Hey, no need to panic,’ Jonah said, his smile broadening as she elbowed her way through the crush of people in front of her only to walk straight into him. ‘I’ve got your drink.’

‘Give it to Liz or Fiona,’ she said. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘But the party’s hardly started,’ he protested, and she shook her head.

‘It’s over as far as I’m concerned.’

‘Oh, come on!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s not like you to walk out on a slap-up buffet.’

His brown eyes were dancing and suddenly it was all too much for her—Brian’s email, her rotten day—and something inside her snapped.

‘You mean I’m a big fat pig who would go anywhere she could stuff her face,’ she retorted. ‘Well, thanks, Jonah. Thanks for nothing.’

The laughter in his eyes died instantly.

‘I didn’t say that,’ he protested. ‘I would never even think it. Look, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been stretched tighter than a wire all day.’

‘Why does there have to be anything the matter with me?’ she demanded, trying to push past him, but it was like trying to move a boulder. ‘Why do I always have to be happy Nell? Can’t I ever feel down, or miserable, or…or just plain fed up?’ Oh, Lord, if she didn’t get out of there soon she was going to burst into tears. ‘Get out of my way, Jonah.’

‘Not until you tell me what’s wrong,’ he said.

‘Jonah, if you don’t get out of my way, I swear I’ll stomp on your foot.’

He thrust the glass of wine he was holding into the hands of a startled passing junior doctor, then folded his arms over his chest. ‘Stomp away, Nell, because I’m not moving.’

He meant it. She could tell from the look on his face that he meant it, but she could also see concern on his features, concern and kindness, and the tears she’d been trying so hard to keep in check all day filled her eyes.

‘Take me home, Jonah,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Please. I just want to go home.’

Well, she’d done it now, she thought, seeing his eyes narrow. He was going to want to know why she was in such a state, but to her amazement he didn’t say anything. Not when he tucked his arm under hers and created a pathway for them towards the door. Not even when they travelled down together in the elevator or walked out of the hospital.

‘I’m sorry for shouting at you,’ she said with difficulty when they reached his car. ‘It was wrong of me, and I apologise.’

‘Nell, you don’t need to apologise to me,’ he said. ‘I obviously said something that upset you.’

‘You didn’t. Honestly, you didn’t.’ Tell him. Tell him what’s happened. But she couldn’t. ‘Can we go now?’ she said instead, and after a moment’s hesitation he nodded.

To her relief they drove in silence to her flat, but from the sidelong glances he kept giving her she knew it was only a temporary respite and, sure enough, when he drew his car to a halt, and she reached for the passenger door, he put out his hand to stay her.

‘Can I come in?’ he said. ‘Just for a minute?’

Part of her wanted to say no, that she was tired, that she didn’t want to answer the questions she knew he was going to ask, but the other part also knew she didn’t want be alone in her flat, surrounded by memories of Brian. She didn’t want to spend the rest of the night wondering how she’d screwed up, why he’d found somebody else when he’d said-he’d sworn-he loved her, and so she nodded.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ she said after she’d unlocked her front door and ushered Jonah into her sitting room. ‘I’ve tea, coffee, or there’s a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge.’

‘A coffee would be good.’

He could have whatever he wanted just as long as he didn’t go, she thought as she went into her kitchen, switched on the percolator, then opened the fridge.

‘Are you sure about the coffee?’ she said, carrying one of the bottles of wine into the sitting room. ‘It won’t take a minute but I thought I’d try some of this. It’s supposed to be very good.’

Leastways, Brian had said it was when he bought it, and as he was never going to drink it now…

‘I’ll stick with coffee as I’m driving,’ he said, but as he watched her open the wine and pour herself a liberal glassful, a frown pleated his forehead. ‘Nell, I’ve known you for two years and this isn’t like you. Something’s clearly upset you and I want to know what it is.’

He wanted to know what it was. Fine, she would give him part of it.

‘My hair…’ She reached up and touched her short, straight bob self-consciously. ‘Jonah, the blonde highlights are fake.’

‘And very nice they look, too,’ he said with a smile as he sat down on the sofa.

‘Jonah, did you hear what I said?’ she said in exasperation. ‘My natural hair colour is brown. Plain, ordinary, mousy brown. The blonde highlights are fake.’

The frown on his forehead reappeared. ‘And what’s that got to do with anything? My sisters change their hair colour so frequently I have to ask them for an update before they visit otherwise I’d never recognise them.’

‘There’s more,’ she said, downing her wine in one gulp. ‘I was thirty-two last month, Jonah. Thirty-two.’

He looked even more puzzled. ‘And I’ll be thirty-six next February. So what?’

‘It doesn’t matter for you,’ she said, sitting down in the armchair opposite him and topping up her glass. ‘You’re a man. No matter how old and wrinkly you get, everyone will simply say you’re mature. I’m a woman and people are soon going to be calling me an old bat.’

He smothered a laugh. ‘Nell, I hardly think being thirty-two makes you an old ba—’

‘Jonah, I’m a thirty-two-year-old, fat, five-foot-nine inch female with dyed hair and boring grey eyes.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he protested. ‘Your hair is lovely, your eyes are beautiful, and you’re not fat. You’re statuesque, curvy.’

‘I’m fat, Jonah,’ she interrupted, ‘and do you want to know something? I hate the way I look. I want to be a size six instead of a size sixteen. I keep going on diets, but…’ she waved her hand expansively, sending part of the wine in her glass sloshing onto the carpet ‘…they don’t work, and you know why they don’t work? Because I cheat. I end up so damned hungry I cheat.’

‘Nell, there is nothing wrong with the way you look,’ Jonah declared. ‘You’re fine just as you are.’

Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed them back. ‘You’re a good friend, Jonah, a good mate. Are you sure you don’t want some of this wine? It really is very good.’

‘You obviously think it is,’ he said dryly as he watched her empty her glass, ‘but I’m driving, remember? Look, why don’t you phone Brian? I know he’s going to be back in six months, but you’re obviously missing him.’