Twins For Christmas. Alison Roberts
ears were pricked now. He looked like he was asking her a question and Emma found herself smiling at the dog. No—she didn’t have to disappear right after Christmas, when Catherine McAllister returned, did she? Adam was still going to need a nanny and it wasn’t as if she had another job prospect lined up. She didn’t need to work at all, in actual fact, because the small inheritance from her mother would be enough for quite some time.
But she couldn’t offer Adam anything real. She didn’t do that kind of commitment. How could she, when she couldn’t offer any guarantee of permanence? When, instead, she could be sentencing someone to share things no one would choose to share.
And he wouldn’t want it anyway, would he? The blue of the fabric in her lap seemed to glow more brightly. How could anyone compete with the ghost of the perfect wife and mother? The love of his life that had been tragically ripped away from him and their beloved children?
The recently changed ring tone on her phone was for Christmas and Bob got to his feet as ‘Jingle Bells’ began. It was getting louder by the time Emma found the phone beneath the shimmery blue fabric.
‘It’ll be Sharon, I expect,’ she said, as Bob gave her hand a helpful nudge.
Except it wasn’t.
‘Jack …’ It was such a surprise to hear from him. A shock even, because it pulled her back instantly to somewhere she’d managed to distract herself from completely in the last couple of weeks.
‘Hey, Emma. How’s it going up there in the wilds of Scotland?’
‘It’s snowing,’ she told him happily. ‘And it’s just gorgeous. What’s it like in London?’
‘Cold and grey. No snow. That’s why I thought I’d pop up for a visit next week.’
‘What?’ Emma blinked. The relationship was a complicated mix sometimes and she wasn’t sure if he was wearing his ‘close friend’ or ‘oncologist’ hat right now. ‘Why?’
‘I’m meeting with an oncology guru who happens to be over from the States, tracing his family tree. I must have told you about that international research project we’re both involved in. Jenny says I bore everyone with it.’ He chuckled, unrepentant. ‘Anyway, I said I’d fly up for the day and then I had this idea and got hold of a mate who works in the infirmary in Edinburgh. I pulled a few strings but … how would you feel about having your BMT and maybe getting the results by Christmas?’
‘Oh …’ Emma had to swallow hard. The unpleasant prospect of having a bone-marrow aspiration done for testing had been off her agenda until she got back to London. ‘I’m … not sure how I feel about that, Jack. I …’ Oh, help. She could hear the wobble in her voice that threatened tears. ‘I was trying to forget about it, you know? To make this Christmas really special, in case … in case …’
‘I know.’ There was a short silence and then Jack’s voice was gentle. ‘Things are going to shut down for a while down here, what with Christmas and then New Year. And the baby’s not far off making an appearance, which could complicate things a bit for me, but it’s entirely your call. It was just an idea.’
Another silence as Emma’s mind raced. She would be thinking about it again now, wouldn’t she? Distraction would get harder. It could spoil things.
She heard Jack clear his throat. ‘How ‘bout this for another idea? Get the test done and, if the result comes through in time and it’s what we hope it’s going to be, I can give it to you as your Christmas present. And we can all really celebrate.’
He was including Sharon in that ‘we’. They’d got on famously from the moment they’d first met and had worked closely together to get Emma through the toughest of times.
‘And if it isn’t?’ Emma’s voice was so soft she didn’t think Jack would hear her but he did.
‘Then we’ll deal with it. After Christmas.’
Emma closed her eyes. That errant thought that she could perhaps stay in Braeburn longer than originally intended was still lurking in the back of her head and it would be much more convenient to pop over to Edinburgh for the test than go all the way back to London. And the result of that test couldn’t possibly be devastating, could it, given that she was feeling so good at the moment? The physical exhaustion that used to ambush her all the time had virtually disappeared so she knew she was getting stronger every day. How amazing would it be to get confirmation of something so wonderful as a Christmas gift?
‘Okay … Let me find a pen and paper and I’ll take down the details.’
It was proving to be a long day for Adam. Another one where it was difficult to separate his professional and personal lives.
He couldn’t blame his patients for making Emma’s presence felt in his consulting room or when he was making his house calls, though. No … it was his own disobedient mind.
Or maybe he should blame his body.
He hadn’t touched a woman in that way since his wife had died. Hadn’t even thought of touching like that, let alone kissing someone.
And it wouldn’t go away. The memory of how soft her lips had been. How sweet the taste of her had been. The shaft of desire for more that had been sharp enough to be both a physical and emotional pain.
Maybe that was what was making his mouth go a little dry at intervals today and increasing his heart rate until he could feel it thumping against his ribs. Too much adrenaline being produced. And why?
He knew if he looked a little more closely, he would know exactly why.
Fear.
Fear of being inadequate.
What man wouldn’t have lost confidence? Especially when avoidance had been the defence method of choice and it was now ingrained as a way of life? His children, his work and his community. Those were the things he could do and do well. Being a husband or even a lover?
That was what he wasn’t so sure of any more.
He’d always been good at avoidance, too. Even way back he’d made allowances for Tania’s dissatisfaction. She was a city girl, born and bred, so of course she found a small village like Braeburn boring to the point of suffocation.
Emma was a city girl, too, wasn’t she? She seemed to love village life but it was just a change for her. A very temporary change. Maybe the novelty would wear off.
Adam drove back to the medical centre that afternoon after visiting a sick baby on a farm that lay on the very outskirts of his practice area. It was starting to snow lightly and the stone walls and hedgerows looked like they were being dusted with icing sugar. The fairy-lights on the village shops were twinkling merrily and the tree in the square couldn’t have looked any more perfect.
He could see Old Jock over by the pub with his bagpipes under his arm. Hopefully, he’d go in by the fire and have a wee dram instead of getting too cold, serenading the village. He’d have to chase up those test results when he got back to his office. Something was going on with Jock and while nothing obvious had been noticeable when he’d examined the older man the other day, Adam wasn’t happy about it.
He cared deeply about the people of Braeburn. His people. It wasn’t just the physical beauty of this place that made it paradise for those who could see it. It was the embrace of a community tight enough to seem like an extended family with both its positive—supportive—side and the more negative—intrusive—one.
Eileen was in position, as always, guarding the reception desk, when he got back to the medical centre.
‘Any calls while I’ve been out?’
‘No’ yet.’ Eileen clicked her tongue. ‘There will be, mind … It’s snowing.’
‘Aye.’
‘Someone will fall over and break something, you mark my words.’
Adam