A Little Christmas Magic (13 page)

‘You just take care of Joan, Doctor.’

‘And say hello to Jock while you’re in there.’

That was a thought. He could not only check up on Jock but he could see how Aimee Jessop’s baby was doing. He might even be able to pop into the specialty shop and see if he could pick up that kilt for Poppy.

‘Oh …’ About to head back to get Joan ready for the journey, Adam stopped in his tracks.

‘Don’t worry,’ Eileen said. ‘I’ll take care of things here. If anyone’s looking right poorly, I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘It’s the children,’ Adam said. ‘They’ll be finished their play practice by lunchtime. I’ll no’ be back in time to collect them.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Eileen said. ‘We’ll get some lunch and they can come and play here until you get back.’

The suggestion that the children were welcome to come and play in Eileen’s closely guarded domain was astonishing but Adam didn’t have time to reflect on the fact that it wasn’t only in his own home that things seemed to be changing. He needed to look after Joan.

Two hours later, his elderly patient was on her way to the catheter laboratory at the Royal. Adam visited Paediatrics to hear the good news that the Jessop baby was putting on weight and that her mother had been able to hold her, and then he got a surprise in the cardiology ward when he was told that Jock was well enough to go home. They were about to arrange transport.

‘He can come back with me,’ Adam said. ‘I just need a quick coffee and a sandwich and I’ll be back to collect him.’

The café at the infirmary was renowned for its good food and great coffee but Adam didn’t even get as far as the queue at the counter.

At first, he simply didn’t believe what he was seeing. It had to be a symptom of how much space Emma Sinclair was taking up in his head these days that made him see things in other women that reminded him of her.

The petite frame or a tumble of curly hair. Blue eyes or even a song on the radio …

But no. This time it wasn’t just a glimpse of something that made him realise how special Emma was and how much he wanted to be with her.

It
was
her.

And she wasn’t alone.

She was sitting at a table with a man who was roughly his own age. The way they were leaning towards each other suggested more than simply familiarity and if he’d been prepared to bestow the benefit of doubt, the inclination would have evaporated the instant he noted that they were holding hands. Staring at each other so intently there was no danger of him being noticed.

Not that the inclination to question the evidence had been there in the first place.

Emma had said she was coming to Edinburgh for a job interview and he’d believed her. Trusted her.

Had he really thought she was so completely different from his wife?

Tania had always said she came to Edinburgh to do her Christmas shopping.

He’d trusted her, too.

Were all women like this? No … he knew that wasn’t true. So it had to be something to do with
him.
And whatever failing he had, it was accompanied by a blindness he’d never imagined he’d have to face again.

Maybe it was a good thing that he’d had so much practice in turning devastation inwards. Shutting it behind barriers that were impregnable. At least, they had been until Emma had come into his life.

Well … Adam turned on his heel and walked away. He’d just have to do a better job of building them this time, wouldn’t he?

S
OMETHING WAS WRONG.

Emma walked into the reception area of the Braeburn medical centre with a smile on her face because she’d been thinking about the first time she’d come through these doors and how different it felt now. Back then, she’d faced the snappy little terrier of a woman whom she’d thought was the children’s grandmother and she’d been nervous of the fiercely uncompromising—almost angry—first impression of her potential employer.

Now she knew that Eileen was a loyal receptionist and that, behind the shield, Adam was a passionate and caring man. The most wonderful man she would ever meet in her life.

But her smile vanished as soon as she stepped through the door.

Caitlin had texted her to say that the children would be waiting at the clinic to be collected when she got back and Emma had assumed that Adam was too busy to take them home. Sure enough, the waiting room was packed and Oliver and Poppy were sitting in the corner, but Emma still knew that something was wrong.

There was a basket of toys in the corner but the twins were simply sitting there very quietly, looking as though they were in some kind of trouble.

Nobody else was talking either. Three women, one of whom she recognised as Moira, the Braeburn choir mistress, were intent on their knitting. Another rocked a pram that clearly contained a sleeping infant. Two men were invisible behind open newspapers.

Emma swallowed hard. She smiled at Eileen. ‘I’ve just come to collect the children,’ she said.

‘Och, aye …’ Eileen sniffed. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’

Was that the problem? Was she later than she’d said she’d be? The coffee with Jack had turned into lunch but he’d been so kind and she’d needed someone to talk to. Somehow it made the new joy in her life more real to talk about it but it had the downside of making her fears a lot bigger as well. She’d ended up crying but Jack had held her hand and listened. He’d focused on the good results of the first blood tests that had come through and reminded her of how well they’d predicted results of the bone-marrow tests in the past.

But she’d said she’d be back by three p.m. and it was only a little later than that because it had started snowing again and the train journey had been slow. She’d gone to where the car was parked, too, to hide all her parcels so that the children wouldn’t guess she’d been shopping for them.

‘How was the rehearsal?’ Emma pasted another smile onto her face. ‘I’m so sorry I missed it. You’ll have to tell me all about it on the way home.’

Oliver was staring at his hands. Poppy’s bottom lip wobbled as she looked up at Emma.

‘Daddy’s cross,’ she whispered.

‘Is he? Well … he’s awfully busy.’ Emma glanced around the waiting room. Of course Adam would be annoyed that she hadn’t been here to look after his children
so he could do his job. That was what she’d been employed for, wasn’t it? Except she was more than an employee now, wasn’t she?

A prickle ran down Emma’s spine. There was more to this than inconvenience. There was something heavy in the air. Something dark. Had somebody died maybe?

The door to the consulting room flew open and someone wrapped in a heavy coat bustled out. There was a short silence and then Adam appeared in their wake.

‘
Next
,’ he barked.

‘That’s you, Moira,’ Eileen said in a stage whisper.

The choir mistress got hurriedly to her feet, clutching her knitting, but the ball of wool escaped and rolled an impressively long way across the floor. She bent to pick it up but the wool caught on the buckle of her shoe.

‘Sorry, Doctor.’ She tugged at the wool. A knitting needle came loose and clattered to the floor but Adam wasn’t watching the progress of his next patient. His gaze had found Emma standing beside the children.

Suddenly it wasn’t amusing to remember the first time she’d been here. Before Adam had known anything about her and had looked at her with a level of suspicion that had suggested she was the last person who might be suitable for looking after his precious children.

That kind of look paled in comparison to the chilly determination with which he was regarding her now. There was no suspicion in this glare. No doubt. No hint of warmth either.

‘Take your time, Moira,’ he snapped. ‘Emma—could I have a word, please? It’ll only take a minute.’

The last words were directed at the waiting room in general as Adam turned back to his consulting room. Or perhaps they had been intended to mollify Eileen. If so, it hadn’t worked. Moira clicked her tongue and shook
her head, the wool snapping as she gave it a harder tug. Eileen’s eyes narrowed as she appeared to put two and two together and realise that Emma was somehow responsible for the doctor’s bad mood.

This wasn’t fair. Okay, she’d been absent for a little over twenty-four hours but it was hardly the crime of the century, was it? It certainly wasn’t fair to make the children suffer and she’d never seen the twins look so miserable.

And her painkillers had worn off. A deep ache in her hip made it almost impossible to walk without a limp but somehow she managed it, knowing how many sets of eyes were watching every move she made.

‘Shut the door, please,’ Adam said, as she went in. ‘Have a seat.’

‘I’m … okay.’ It was better to remain standing. Getting up from a chair might be painful enough to be difficult to hide.

‘As you wish.’

He could have been speaking to a total stranger.

No. It was worse than that. He sounded as though he hated her and you couldn’t hate someone you didn’t know, could you? Emma couldn’t stand this a moment longer.

‘What’s wrong, Adam? What have I done to upset you?’

A soft snort of unamused laughter came from Adam, accompanied by a head shake that emphasised his incredulity.

‘I’m sorry if it’s been difficult. Was there a problem with the children while I wasn’t here or something?’

He was staring at her and, just for a heartbeat, Emma saw the barrier slip. If she’d thought the children looked miserable, it was nothing compared to the pain she saw in that instant in Adam’s eyes. He looked …
betrayed
.

‘I
know
why you had to go to Edinburgh,’ he said.

‘What?’ Emma could actually feel the blood draining from her face.

‘I took a patient through to the infirmary this morning.’ Adam’s eyes didn’t leave hers. His tone was deceptively calm.

Dangerous.

‘I
saw
you.’

Oh … dear Lord … He
did
know why she’d been there. He was a doctor who was well known at that hospital. How hard would it have been to get someone to check records and find out what she’d been even so briefly admitted for?

‘I … I’m sorry, Adam. I should have told you the truth.’

‘Just what the hell did you think you were playing at, Emma? Did you give any thought at all to how this was going to play out down the track? How it might affect the children?
Me
?’

When she
died
? Oh … help. She was going to cry. All she had wanted to do was offer her love.

To be loved in return, for just a blink of time. To make her last Christmas the best one ever.

How selfish had she been?

But the stunning effect of Adam’s discovery was wearing off and guilt was getting overtaken by something else. Hurt. How cruel was this to be reminding her that she might not have much time left? To suggest that the effect on the McAllister family was worse than what she might have to face herself?

And why were the children looking so upset?

Emma’s inward breath was almost a gasp. ‘Have you told Ollie and Poppy?’

‘No.’ The word was a snap. ‘And I don’t want to.’

Thank goodness for that. The children must have simply
picked up on the atmosphere and then assumed—as children were so good at doing—that it was somehow
their
fault. That was cruel, too, if it wasn’t fixed. Emma would fix it as soon as she could.

‘What I
do
want,’ Adam continued, ‘is for you to leave Braeburn. As soon as possible. I realise that it may be too late today but there should be trains running tomorrow. I’ve booked a room at The Inn for you. That’s nice and close to the station.’

‘But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.’

‘I’m aware of the date.’

‘I’m supposed to be helping with the school concert. The … the children’s nativity play.’

‘You can make some excuse. A family emergency perhaps.’

‘And just … leave? Walk out and leave everybody to fill in the gap?’

‘We managed before you came, Emma.’ Adam was shuffling some papers on his desk now. ‘We’ll manage after you go.’

He expected her to go now, didn’t he? To leave his office and then go home to pack and leave his house. She was being dismissed from her position as a nanny. From her position as his lover. Did he really have no intention of even
talking
about that?

Okay. She could understand why the barriers had gone back up. He knew she had made an offer of something she might not be able to follow through on and he’d seen history repeating itself with a loss in the near future that would have a dreadful effect on the children. And on himself? That was bitter-sweet. He was telling her how much she meant to him even as he pushed her away.

Maybe if it wasn’t Christmastime, this wouldn’t be happening like this. She’d been the one to force the celebration
back into Adam’s life and now it must seem like she was about to break his heart in exactly the same way it had been broken three years ago, when he’d lost the love of his life and his children had lost their beloved mother.

This was the first Christmas the children would be really celebrating at home and they were so excited about the play. About being the key characters of Joseph and Mary and—even more—about Jemima being part of the production. It had been her idea to include Jemima. Would that even happen if she wasn’t here?

That did it. This might be all her fault but she wasn’t going to let everything be ruined.

‘No,’ she said.

Adam looked up from his papers. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘No,’ Emma repeated. ‘I understand why you want me to go …’ Her voice wobbled. She couldn’t say anything about how upset she was at him ending what they’d had between them like this because if she went down that track, she’d lose all the courage she knew she needed. ‘But I’m not going to leave while I’m needed here. I can find somewhere else to stay but I promised Caitlin I’d be there to help with the singing and the play and … and I promised the children I’d be there.’ She lifted her chin and took a steadying breath so that she could sound totally in control. ‘I never break my promises.’

Caitlin would put her up for a night or two. Or she could stay at The Inn if that wasn’t possible. She’d just have to dream up some reason for her absence to keep Poppy and Oliver as happy as possible.

Adam was looking at his papers again. ‘Do what you need to,’ he growled. ‘I’ll cope.’

Where had she heard those words before? Emma wondered, as she managed to find a smile for Oliver and Poppy as she led them out of the clinic.

Oh, yes … That had been exactly what Adam had said when she’d asked for the time off to go to Edinburgh. When she’d lied to him about the job interview.

‘Is Daddy still cross?’ Poppy asked as Emma clipped the belt over her car seat.

‘No, sweetheart. And he was never cross with you.’

‘Who was he cross with, then?’ Oliver asked.

Me
, Emma thought. And she had brought it on herself with her deception. She took another one of those steadying breaths.

‘Sometimes grown-ups get cross because there’s too much to do and people need things that are hard to give them. Daddy has to help lots of people and sometimes it’s hard. Like when Mrs Jessop’s baby was so sick.’

‘But you help lots of people, too, and
you
don’t get cross.’

Emma leaned in to kiss Poppy before she closed the door. In the time it took her to get to the driver’s seat, inspiration had struck.

‘Miss McMurray has an awful lot to do at the moment to get ready for your concert tomorrow. I know she doesn’t get cross very often but I’m going to go and help her to make sure she doesn’t. It might get very late so I’ll probably stay at her house.’

‘But you’ll come back, won’t you?’ Poppy sounded anxious. ‘It’s only
two
sleeps till Christmas.’

‘It
is.
’ Emma turned on the car’s lights and the windscreen wipers. ‘Oh … look at how hard it’s snowing. Isn’t that pretty?’

Adam’s parting words replayed themselves like an echo in Emma’s head as she went through what had become such a joyous routine of caring for children and pets and trying to cook. She was getting better at it but it was a
bonus to find one of Catherine’s casseroles hiding in the freezer when she went to find some frozen peas. It had been wedged behind the turkey.

What had Catherine said about that? Didn’t it need to come out of the freezer two days before Christmas so that it had time to thaw? Emma lifted the heavy bird and put it in the scullery tub. Not that she’d be here to cook it and maybe that was for the best. There was no way Adam could avoid celebrating Christmas now, what with all the decorations all over the house and the tree there waiting for the gifts to appear. At least she’d given this little family that much. And Adam probably knew how to cook a turkey.

As he’d said, he’d cope.

The first time he’d said those words had been the turning point, hadn’t it? When Emma had decided that the real gift she could give Adam was hope. To show him what it could be like to let someone close. To be really happy again.

Well, it had worked, hadn’t it?

Too well.

He’d accepted that gift and given his own in return. He’d shown her what it was like to be truly loved.

And now he knew that it had been false hope that she had offered.

But how could he be so sure? Did he know something that she didn’t know? Emma stood there in the scullery, staring at the frozen turkey without seeing it. Had accessing her medical records somehow given him information that Jack had been unwilling to give her so close to Christmas?