Their First Family Christmas

Jack nodded. He closed his eyes as he did so because he didn’t want Emma to see how much he would have preferred for her to stay here.

He had no right to put any kind of pressure on her.

About anything.

* * *

Alistair had beaten her to the patient board and he was frowning as he scanned the changes that the last ten minutes or so had produced.

‘We’ve got to clear some space,’ he said. ‘Waiting times are getting to an unacceptable level.’

‘I’ll see if we can get another registrar or two on board.’

‘We’ve got an ambulance arriving in the next few minutes,’ Caroline warned them. ‘And the police. Sounds like a turf war broke out between a couple of Santas selling hats or something.’ She tried to suppress a grin. ‘Could be serious. One of them got stabbed, by the sound of things.’

‘I’ll take it,’ Alistair said. ‘But do you want me to help with that dislocated shoulder in Curtain Two first? He’s been waiting a while.’

‘I’ll get one of the housemen. It’s only brute strength required.’ One of the junior doctors—a young Australian called Pete—was heading towards her, in fact, but Emma didn’t get the chance to speak first.

‘Can I get you to have a look at my patient when you’ve got a minute? Twenty-nine-year-old with epigastric pain but I don’t know if it warrants a scan.’ Pete was frowning. ‘There’s something about her I just can’t put my finger on.’

It didn’t sound too urgent. ‘Can she wait for a bit? I need you to help me get a shoulder back in. Set up a sedation trolley in Curtain Two and I’ll be with you shortly.’ She paused beside one of the bank of computer screens available to call up patient records, check test results and review X-rays. The first digital image from the resuscitation room Jack was in had come through. A chest X-ray.

Emma peered at the screen as she zoomed in and hovered over the area that was so bruised. There didn’t seem to be any broken ribs. This was good. Maybe she could stop worrying about the possibility of a pneumothorax and a sudden deterioration in Jack’s ability to breathe.

Another worry resurfaced in the wake of that relief. Picking up the desk phone, she punched in an internal number.

‘CCU, Charge Nurse speaking.’

‘Hi, Steve. It’s Emma Matthews here, from ED. Any word on Stuart Cameron yet?’

‘They’re just finishing up in the cath lab. He’s had three stents put in. Apparently there was a hundred percent occlusion of his left main stem. ECG changes are resolving already, though, so he’s been incredibly lucky.’

‘Oh...thank goodness...’ The wave of relief was enough to make Emma’s legs feel wobbly.

‘We’re expecting him in here shortly. We’ve got the private suite ready.’

Emma smiled. ‘Tell him I’ll be up to visit the moment I get a break.’

‘How’s it looking down there?’

‘Usual festive season chaos. A surprise around every corner.’

Ending the call, Emma went to find Pete, who was waiting for her outside Curtain Two, alongside a pretty young nurse.

‘Really?’ Emma heard him say. ‘He turned up at work drunk? When he had a theatre list waiting?’

‘That’s not the worst of it,’ the nurse responded. ‘He was the legal guardian of his baby niece—her only living relative—and he just walked away...’

‘No way...’

They had their backs to her so they hadn’t noticed Emma approaching. Maybe the nurse was carried away by having something that had captured an attractive new doctor’s attention so completely. She leaned in closer.

‘Nobody’s heard a peep from him since and that was nearly a year ago.’

‘So why has he come back now?’

‘Who knows? Maybe he’s come back to claim her finally.’

Emma stopped in her tracks. She could feel the blood draining out of her head, leaving a nasty spinning sensation.

She’d thought he might have come back to see Lily.

To see her, even.

Or even that he might have been planning to work here again.

But to have come back to claim guardianship of the only living member of his family?

It made sense.

Sickening, terrifying sense, because it wouldn’t be the first time...

She could actually hear those furious words. ‘She’s my brother’s child. Now she’s mine.’

It also made her angry.

‘I hate to break up the party,’ she snapped, ‘but I’m sure you’ve both noticed how busy this department is at the moment. Let’s get on with doing the jobs we’re being paid to do, shall we?’

The pair jumped apart, the nurse’s face reddening as she fled. Emma ignored Pete’s muttered apology. The anger was still there. They wouldn’t be the only people gossiping in corners tonight after the dramatic reappearance of Jack Reynolds and no doubt they’d be picking over her own part as one of the major players in what had been a series of events worthy of a soap opera’s plotline.

Most of the anger was directed elsewhere, however, and it came from a place of fear.

Everybody knew she was Lily’s mother in every way it was possible to be a mother, other than having given birth to her precious little girl. But legally she was no more than a godparent. No formal adoption process had ever been initiated. How could it have been when her legal guardian had simply vanished?

Would she have enough grounds to fight if Jack really had come back to claim Lily?

Relocating a shoulder was the perfect task for Emma right now. With her patient well sedated, it needed careful positioning and then an intense physical effort to pull the arm hard enough to create the space for the ball of the joint to slip back into its socket. She had been going to ask Pete to do it but instead she had him stabilise the patient’s body while she did it.

There was always satisfaction in hearing the joint click back into place but this time what was even better was the release of that angry tension that had settled in Emma’s belly like a stone. By the time she headed back to the computer to check the rest of Jack’s images, she was feeling a great deal calmer.

For a moment, though, the images on the screen were blurry.

She was back in time again. Sitting beside the bed of someone she loved so dearly and they had both known that they had very little time.

‘Promise me, Em. Promise me that you’ll take care of her.’

Sarah’s breathing had been becoming rapidly more laboured and there had been nothing they could do.

‘Jack would be a disaster. He’s irresponsible... He’s never even wanted a family...’

‘I promise...’

How hard had it been to hold back her tears?

‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’

The old childhood vow. The one that could never be broken.

Not that Emma had been able to repeat the words. She had only been able to nod. And smile. And squeeze Sarah’s hand so hard it would have hurt if she hadn’t already been beyond feeling pain...

It took a huge effort to shake off the distressing flashback. To focus on the images in front of her. Amazingly, Jack hadn’t broken any bones, probably thanks to the well-padded leather gear with its built-in body armour. All that was needed was treatment of the soft-tissue injuries and observation for long enough to be sure that there was no head injury being missed.

Taking a deep breath, Emma went back to Jack’s room. The radiographers had gone and the nurse who had stayed with Jack was peering wide-eyed around the door as stretchers surrounded by police officers as well as paramedics came through the ambulance bay doors. That the patients on the stretchers were in red and white Santa suits only made the spectacle even more riveting. Alistair and the small team he had gathered were waiting in front of the other resuscitation area.

‘You go,’ Emma told the nurse. ‘They’ll need extra hands. And call me if I’m needed.’

‘What’s going on out there?’ Jack had a pillow under his head now but he was trying to prop himself further up on the elbow of his uninjured arm. ‘Sounds like something major.’

Emma stepped closer. The fear—and the anger—had resurfaced on seeing Jack’s face. It made no difference how much she loved this man. She would fight to the death if she had to, to protect what was most important.

‘I won’t let you do it,’ she said quietly. ‘Not this time.’

Jack looked bewildered. ‘Do what?’

Emma swallowed hard. ‘I won’t let you take Lily away from me.’

CHAPTER THREE

YOU’D HAVE TO know Emma well to see the fear beneath the fury of the words she had just bitten out.

Jack knew Emma very well.

He could see the fear and he hated himself for having been the person who’d caused it. He had to put this right. Fast.

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said quietly. ‘Do you really think that’s why I’ve come back?’

The shake of her head was sharp enough for another curl to escape its clip. Emma took a step closer to the bed. Because the wide door of this area was ajar, the noises of the department were still there, but they were no more than a background buzz. It wouldn’t matter how quietly Emma spoke, he would still be able to hear every word because that was all that mattered in this moment.

‘How would I know?’

Jack could hear the edge of tears roughening her words and could see the way she was fighting for control by the ragged breath she sucked in. He could also see that she had something else to say, so he remained silent.

He watched the way Emma composed herself. A long, hard blink and a swallow that looked painful by the jerky movement of the muscles in her neck. When she opened her eyes again, she was staring down at her hands—as if it was too hard to meet his gaze.

‘I’ve been waiting, Jack,’ she said softly. ‘For nearly a year, I’ve been waiting for you to come back. I’ve shut my ears to everything people have said and held on to the belief that one day, it would happen.’ Her head shake was slower this time and she must have felt the tickle of the errant curl because her hand went up to smooth it away from her face. ‘I’ve been hoping—every day—that this might be the day I’d hear something...’

Making Emma scared had made Jack feel like a bastard but this was worse. Much worse.

She’d been thinking of him every day? Hoping he would do the right thing and come back?

What had other people been saying? That he was gone for good and maybe that was for the best?

Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t come back...

‘And today, of all days...’ Emma’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘When the memories were ambushing me around every corner. You come back with no warning and...and you come back looking like you might be nearly dead?’

Her bottom lip wobbled and it was too much.

She cared about him, didn’t she?

Really cared...

Apart from the memory of his mother that had no more than a dreamlike quality now, there had only ever been one other person that had felt like that about him and, in a way, Ben’s death had given him freedom. There was nobody to worry about him. If he kept it that way, it would work both ways and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else. Or face the agony of having them torn from his life.

But, for some unfathomable reason, Emma cared...

And, like it or not, he cared about her, didn’t he? He wouldn’t be feeling this wretched if he didn’t.

Jack stretched out his hand but he couldn’t quite reach hers. He left it there, hanging, in midair. For a moment, he was aware of an increased urgency in the sounds coming from outside the door—from the resuscitation area right next door to this one—but then he shut it out again. This was more important.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry, Red.’

There was a long, long moment of utter stillness then. He knew Emma was looking at his hand—trying to decide whether she wanted to touch him in a capacity that had nothing to do with his medical care?

He wanted that touch. It might be the only thing that could give him any hope that he could put any of this right. He leaned into his arm, stretching it a little bit further, and he turned his hand over, to offer his palm.

‘Careful...you’ll pull out your IV line.’

But Emma had caught his hand and, after she’d stepped closer to take the tension off the narrow plastic tube, she didn’t let it go. Jack curled his fingers around hers, willing her to look up and meet his gaze.

When she did, he almost wished she hadn’t. He was enveloped in something that felt like anguish.

‘Why did you come back today, Jack?’

‘Because...because it’s Christmas,’ he said, his voice catching on the last word.

‘But you hate Christmas...we all knew how much you hate it... That was why Sarah and Ben were bringing Lily to Glasgow. They knew you’d never go to see them in London.’ Emma’s words were tumbling out. And her eyes were widening, as if she was realising something horrific for the first time.

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