Tempted by Dr. Daisy (10 page)

Matt propped himself up beside him and stared down the garden with him. ‘You are ready to move on, you know. I know you denied it, but you've really fallen for her hard, and she has for you, judging by the look on her face when you and Florence came in. So how are you going to get her back?'

‘I can't. She has issues about being a stepmother. She's almost been one, but he was a bastard and the relationship's scarred her, so it's all a bit déjà vu for her, and for me, too. I think she's afraid to trust her heart to anyone else, especially anyone else in the same situation, and I can understand that. Maybe if I'd been single, unencumbered, it might have been different.'

‘So she was looking for a clean slate, and she found you?'

‘Something like that.'

‘So is Florence the stumbling block?'

‘Not really. She adores Florence. It's the similarities, for both of us. It plays on our insecurities. I'm another single father with an ex-wife in the background, like the man who broke her heart, and she's on the rebound.'

‘Just like Jane.'

‘Pretty much. Except Peter's a decent man, unlike Daisy's Mike. And you're right, I am ready to love again. I didn't think I was, but I am, and it was only when she bottled out that I realised how much. But as I say, she's not ready.'

‘Could you wait for her?'

He gave a gruff laugh. ‘There's no danger I'll be looking around for anyone else, Matt. I've never felt like this before, certainly not with Jane. She's seeing Peter again, by the way. It's looking serious.'

‘Ah. Is he still in the army?'

‘Yup. He's coming out in three months, and she's hoping they'll get married. It's what she's always wanted, anyway. What she should have had in the first place.'

Matt gave a quiet sigh. ‘And you really don't think there's any hope for you and Daisy?'

‘No, because she won't have me. She's told me that, in black and white. Look, can we drop this?'

For a moment Matt said nothing, then he levered himself away from the worktop and frowned at the hob.

‘Are you doing anything with that kettle, apart from filling the kitchen with steam?'

‘What do you suggest?'

‘How about ordering in a curry?'

‘I was going to make one.'

‘Got beer?'

‘Of course.'

‘Done. You make the curry, I'll grab a shower, and then we can talk over these twins.'

 

She didn't see Matt again.

He and Ben dealt with the Grieves case, and she dealt with the others, and by the time she'd finished, he'd left for London.

It was a pity, she thought, that he hadn't taken his brother with him, but she gritted her teeth and they got through the week, and then it was Laura's wedding—just to rub salt into the wound.

She droved to Nottingham with Amy, and despite her reservations, she had a good time. It would have been better if she'd been happier, but it was good to see the old crowd again and good for her morale to have to fend off the single men. And some who weren't.

They left the next morning after a long breakfast with everyone in the wedding party, and she dropped Amy off and went home, glad it was over. Maybe she could have a bit of peace from weddings now for a while.

As she put her car away, she realised that Ben's car wasn't there, and felt a twinge of disappointment.

Silly. So very, very silly. The sooner she moved, the better.

She let herself in and found her phone blinking, and
scrolled through the call log. Ben had rung her and left a message. So why not her mobile? Because it was still switched off since the wedding, she realised, and stared at the blinking light. For a moment she nearly didn't pick the message up, but then she weakened. It would be something about work, she was sure of it—the MCMA twins, perhaps?

It wasn't.

‘Daisy, can you call me as soon as you get this? I'm at the hospital with Florence.'

Oh, dear God. Whatever had happened? Her fingers trembling, she rang him without questioning it. She'd told him to call her if he ever needed her again, and he hadn't. Until now. And if he needed her, for whatever reason, she'd be there for him.

B
EN
paced the tiny room, his nerves on edge.

Jane had called him at five thirty that morning, to tell him she felt dreadful. Another migraine, he'd thought dismissively. It wasn't a migraine. It was something much worse, something frightening and potentially threatening to Florence and the status quo.

She was lying in the dark when he got there, and when he went in she moaned and flinched away from the landing light.

‘Are you OK?' he asked, instantly concerned.

‘No, I feel so ill. I think my head's going to explode,' she whispered. ‘Ben, it's never felt like this. I'm scared.'

He didn't mess about. It could have been nothing, or it could have been something very sinister—a bleed, a tumour—or meningitis. Fear clawed at him. What if Florence hadn't just been tired yesterday? She'd been grizzly, fretful, and he'd pretty much dismissed it. But what if…?

He called an ambulance. Then he called Jane's mother, but she was away on holiday, he remembered as the phone rang and rang and rang, and he had no idea how to get hold of Peter. He might even be on a posting abroad, or on some operational exercise.

He found her handbag, her phone and her house keys,
threw some basic essentials into a bag and went to let the paramedics in.

Jane was admitted to MAU, and they sent him with Florence to the Paediatric Admissions Unit to be on the safe side. She had bloods taken and all manner of tests and examinations, and now he was waiting for the results, his nerves stretched taut.

And he needed Daisy as he'd never needed her before.

He called her, but her mobile was off, so he left a message on her house phone. Please get it, he thought desperately. Don't go back to Amy's and stay there till the evening. Please go home and find the message and ring me.

She didn't ring, and he tried again. No reply.

He didn't have Amy's number. He could have pulled rank and got it from HR, but it wasn't really necessary, and the only reason he wanted Daisy was for moral support. Well, he'd just have to tough it out.

His ringtone—the one he'd reserved for her—shattered the fraught silence, and he grabbed the phone from his pocket and stabbed the answer button. ‘Daisy—thank God,' he said, weak with relief.

‘Ben, what's going on? What's happened to her?'

He stepped out of the door so he didn't wake his daughter. ‘It's Jane. She's been admitted. She might have meningitis. They're checking Florence to make sure she's OK, but she's been grizzly, and…'

‘Do you want me to come?' she asked without hesitation, and he felt his eyes burn. Always thoughtful. Always putting others first. God, he loved her so much.

‘If you don't mind.'

‘Of course I don't,' she said, and he told her to come to the PAU. Florence was in a vacant side room, just as a precaution, and would stay there until they knew the out
come of both Jane's and her investigations. And now, after a few hours of it, he was tearing his hair out.

Till Daisy walked in and wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. He hugged her back, hanging on for dear life, and after a moment she lifted her head and stared up at him, concern transparent in her eyes.

‘Any news?'

He shook his head. ‘No. They're waiting for the results of Jane's lumbar puncture. If it's bacterial meningitis, then Florence could still be at risk, but they can't find anything wrong with her at the moment except what's most likely a slight cold, so we're probably going to be sent home to watch and wait. I need to distract her because she's worried about Jane and keeps asking for her, but I'm going crazy. I daren't take my eyes off her till I know what it is.'

‘What can I do, Ben? Tell me what to do, what you need,' Daisy offered instantly, to his amazement.

He couldn't ask it of her. She'd found the last few weeks incredibly difficult, and he was still feeling guilty—always would—but Daisy assured him it was fine, and he had to believe her because he'd never needed her as he did then.

He wasn't convinced, but he had little choice. ‘I need to try and get hold of Peter for her. I'm not sure where he is, but his number's bound to be in her phone and she's got it with her. I ought to check on her, too, see if I can find anything out while I'm there.'

‘So go,' she said.

Jane was awake, dazed with pain but coherent enough to speak, and she was desperate to see Peter. ‘His number's in my phone,' she said, her voice slurred, and he rang him and filled him in.

‘Can I talk to her?' he asked.

‘Sure.'

He handed the phone over, and Jane started to cry. He
looked away. She loved him, that much was obvious, and from the sound of his voice, Peter loved her, too. He wondered what the future held for them, because it would have a knock-on effect on Florence, and he might end up picking up the pieces.

Suddenly weary, he took the phone back from her when she held it out, and gave Peter directions in the hospital to find the ward.

‘He's coming now,' Jane whispered. ‘You need to get back to Florence. Who's with her?'

‘Daisy,' he said, and she closed her eyes and sighed.

‘That's good. Florence loves her—but I thought—'

‘Yeah, well, she offered.' Ages ago, but today he'd needed to take her up on it, and she'd come, without a murmur.

He so, so didn't deserve her.

And he wanted her so much.

‘Go back to her,' Jane murmured. ‘I'll be all right. He'll be here soon.'

He squeezed her hand and left her, hurrying back to the PAU to find Daisy sitting in the chair with Florence on her lap, looking at a book.

‘Daddy, Daisy's reading to me!' she announced when he went in, and she sounded much, much better.

‘Freddie Frog?'
he said with a smile, and Daisy shrugged and smiled.

‘It was here.'

‘I know. Thank goodness I had the foresight to bring it. It's the only book she likes now.'

Her smile was apologetic. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘Don't be,' he said. The book was the biggest success story of the year, as far as he was concerned, and he often found her showing the pictures to Froggy in the garden,
sitting on the lawn in the shade of the little apple tree and telling him the story.

She'd asked him once if he thought Froggy missed Daisy, and he'd somehow managed to answer her coherently.

Froggy? No. As for Ben himself, that was a different matter, and Florence, too. They both missed her, and the hole in their lives was huge.

They got the all clear to take her home under strict observation, and they went back in convoy. He took Florence inside and got her a drink and a biscuit, and Daisy joined them a few minutes later in the garden.

‘I thought you might need some moral support,' she said softly, and settled down cross-legged on the grass next to Florence. She snuggled up to Daisy, her head on her lap and her thumb in her mouth, while Daisy ran her fingers gently through her hair and told her a story.

To look at her, you'd never know there was anything wrong, he thought, staring longingly at Daisy, that under that serenely smiling exterior her heart was in turmoil, but he knew it must be, because his was, too.

When the story was finished, she helped him with the weeding, and Florence kissed Froggy and hid him for Ben to find, and then ran giggling behind Daisy and hid herself from him, too, and Daisy played along with it like a trouper while Tabitha watched them over the fence from the safety of the conservatory roof.

Florence tried to coax her, but Tabitha just settled down, folded her paws under her chest and watched them play, and Ben, out of the corner of his eye, watched them all and wished that it was real, and all the time the fear was eating at him.

And then the hospital rang him.

He took the call in the kitchen, watching Florence out
of the window, feeling as if his whole life was hanging in the balance as he waited for the verdict.

It wasn't bacterial meningitis, it was viral meningitis. Not transmissible in that form, all Florence would get was a cold, if that. Probably the one she had, the little niggle that had made her crabby yesterday and sleepy today.

The relief nearly took the legs out from under him, and he felt his eyes prickle with tears. God, she was so precious to him, so incredibly precious.

‘Are you OK?'

He nodded, ended the call and hugged Daisy hard. ‘It's viral,' he mumbled into her hair. ‘She's fine. They ruled it out with the lumbar puncture, and she's staying in hospital on IV opiates for the pain, and they're going to do scans and blood tests and numerous other things just to be sure, but it's definitely not bacterial meningitis, so Florence is safe. She's just got a little cold.'

‘Thank goodness for that,' she said, her voice relieved, and he hugged her again for caring, and for her support, and just because holding her felt so damn good he couldn't let her go.

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?'