Saved By His Cinderella

‘Nagging.’ George wrinkled his nose. ‘Pointless.’

There were times when Ed really, really wanted to shake his older brother. But maybe not while he still had concussion. ‘Give me strength.’

‘Powered paragliding’s not dangerous.’

‘Says the man who’s got a metal rod holding his leg together and both wrists in plaster.’

‘What’s powered paragliding?’ Jane asked.

‘Awesome,’ George said, and smiled. ‘’S a motor like a backpack for take off, then you glide on the current. Show you pictures later.’

‘I take it you need training to do that?’ Ed asked.

‘Yes. ’M certified.’

Jane smiled. ‘Judging by the look on Ed’s face, I think you might mean certifiable.’

George laughed. ‘Prob’ly.’ Then he sobered. ‘Gonna be stuck here f’r a whole week.’

Given that George barely sat still for five minutes, this was going to crucify him, Ed thought. ‘Think yourself lucky you’re not in traction—you’d be stuck there for a lot longer than that,’ he said.

‘What’m I gonna do for a whole week?’ George asked plaintively.

‘The girls and I will visit. And Dad and Frances.’

‘You’re working. Charlie and Bea’ve got exams. Alice’ll nag me. Frances worries.’ George sighed. ‘Dad’s fuming.’

Ed just bet he was. ‘So am I,’ he pointed out.

‘Didn’t do it on purpose.’ George grimaced. ‘Uh. A whole week.’

‘There’s the television,’ Jane suggested.

‘Can’t switch channels.’ He indicated his casts. ‘Six weeks till the plaster comes off.’ He grimaced. ‘Can’t wait to go home.’

Home? He seriously thought he was going to get up from his hospital bed and go home? Oh, for pity’s sake. ‘Be sensible about this, George. You’re going to be here for at least a week. And you’ll need physio on your leg and your shoulders when you leave here,’ Ed warned. ‘How exactly are you going to manage at home, anyway?’

George shrugged. ‘Voice-controlled laptop. Don’t need to type.’

‘I didn’t mean work.’ Ed already knew his brother couldn’t sit still at a desk; he paced his office and did everything with voice control. ‘I meant with simple little things like washing, eating… going to the loo.’

‘Ed!’ George rolled his eyes. ‘’S a lady present.’

‘I’m a doctor,’ Jane said with a smile. ‘I don’t get embarrassed about bodily functions. And Ed does have a point. It’s going to be hard for you to manage personal care with both wrists in plaster—and I’m not quite sure how you’re going to manage a crutch, actually.’

‘There’s one very obvious solution,’ Ed said. ‘Come and stay with me until you’re properly mobile again.’

‘Not ’nuff room.’

‘Yes, there is. I’ll sleep on the sofa bed and you can have my bed—it’ll be more comfy for you with your leg.’

‘Thanks, bro.’ George shook his head. ‘But best not. We’d drive each other mad. You nag too much. I play too hard.’ His face softened. ‘Love you, Ed.’

Yeah. He knew. Because George had always been there for him. Always. George had read story after story to Ed in the nights when he couldn’t get to sleep after their mum had left; and, twenty years later, his older brother was the one Ed had turned to after the night shift from hell, a miserable night that had caused him to question whether he was really cut out to be a doctor.

‘I love you, too,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘But you give me grey hairs. I thought the oldest child was supposed to be the sensible one?’

George smiled. ‘’M sensible. Sometimes.’

Yeah. Ed knew. It was just the rest of the time.

‘I just like doing—’

‘—dangerous things,’ Ed finished wryly. ‘I know.’ Though sometimes he wondered. Was George such a thrill-seeker because he was stuck as the heir to the barony and hated it? It was something they’d never, ever discussed. He’d always assumed that George was fine with it. Maybe he was wrong. He’d been so wrapped up in his career that he hadn’t even considered that George might’ve had a vocation, too. They needed to talk about this. Not right now, while George was still feeling rough from the crash and the anaesthetic, but soon. And maybe they could work something out between them.

‘The girls said they’d already fixed you up with chocolates and grapes. What can I bring you?’

‘Dunno. Can’t do a lot with these.’ George nodded at his casts, then grimaced. ‘Feel sick.’

Jane slid off Ed’s lap, grabbed a bowl and was just in time.

‘Sorry. Not good to be sick over Ed’s new girl,’ George said sheepishly when he’d finished.

‘Anaesthetic has that effect on people sometimes,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m used to this sort of thing. Really.’

‘Thank you. Still sorry, though.’ George looked contrite.

She smiled. ‘No worries.’

‘Look, I’m going to see one of the nurses and ask if they can give you something for the sickness,’ Ed said. ‘Jane, would you mind staying with George until I get back?’

‘Sure.’

‘Sorry to be a nuisance,’ George said when Ed had gone.

‘You’re not a nuisance. I think Ed’s a lot happier now he’s seen you for himself.’ Jane gave him a rueful smile. ‘It’s just as well we had a busy afternoon, because he was going through all the possible complications in his head and worrying himself si—’ Given that George was feeling queasy, that wouldn’t be the best phrase, Jane decided, and changed it to ‘Silly’.

George clearly guessed, because he smiled. ‘Sharp. You’ll be good for Ed.’ He paused. ‘Best brother I could ever have.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, he feels the same about you,’ Jane said.

‘Yeah.’ George closed his eyes. ‘Sorry. Tired.’

‘Hey, that’s fine. Just rest. I’m not going anywhere—if you need anything, you just tell me, OK?’

‘’K,’ George said.

Ed came back with one of the doctors, who gave George an anti-emetic and wrote it on the chart.

‘Your brother really needs to get some rest now,’ the doctor said.

‘Of course.’ Ed put an affectionate hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Reckon you can stay out of trouble until I see you tomorrow, George?’

‘Can’t go abseiling, can I?’ George said lightly.

‘I wouldn’t put it past you,’ Ed said. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow night after work. Do you want me to bring anything?’

‘Chess set, maybe?’ George asked. ‘Move the pieces for me.’

‘Sure. Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘You’ll come back too, Jane?’ George asked.

‘Maybe not tomorrow—Ed might want some time with you on his own—but yes, I’ll come back. And I’ll play chess with you, if you like,’ Jane said with a smile. ‘Take care.’

Ed was silent all the way to the Tube station, and barely said a word until they got to her stop.

‘I’ll see you home,’ he said.

Jane was perfectly capable of seeing herself home, but Ed was clearly upset and she was pretty sure he needed some company. ‘Thanks.’ She didn’t push him into a conversation, but she noticed that he held her hand tightly all the way to her front door.

‘Come up,’ she said softly.

‘I’m not going to be good company,’ he warned.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She stroked his face. ‘I hate to think of you going home and brooding. You saw something bad in his notes, didn’t you?’

‘It’s not fair of me to discuss it.’ He sighed. ‘There’s a potential problem, yes. Hopefully it’ll sort itself out.’

‘OK. I’m not going to push you to tell me. But if you do decide to talk, you know it won’t go any further than me, right?’

‘I do.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘And thank you.’

She put the kettle on and made herself a coffee and Ed a mug of tea, adding plenty of sugar.

He took one mouthful and almost choked. ‘Jane, this is disgusting!’

‘Hot sweet tea is good for shock.’

‘Yeah.’ He sighed. ‘That’s what George made me drink, when I decided I couldn’t be a doctor any more.’

She blinked. ‘You were going to give up medicine?’

He nodded. ‘I was on an emergency department rotation. There was a major pile-up, and—well, you know what a majax is like. I wasn’t used to losing patients. Kids, some of them. And I just couldn’t handle it.’ He blew out a breath. ‘When I got home the next morning, I knew George had been out partying all night and had probably only just crawled into bed, but he was the only one I could talk to about it. So I called him.’

‘And he made you a mug of tea like this?’

‘Yeah. He came straight over and cooked me a fry-up.’ He smiled wryly. ‘George is a terrible cook. The bacon was burned and the eggs were leathery. I had to cover everything in ketchup to force it down. But it was the best breakfast I’ve ever had. He made me talk until it was all out. And then he told me it was just one shift in a department that wasn’t right for me, and if I gave up medicine I’d regret it and I’d make everyone around me miserable. He said I’d be a great doctor, as long as I found the right department for me.’

There was a huge lump in Jane’s throat. What must it be like to have a sibling who supported you like that, instead of taking and taking and taking all the time? ‘He was right,’ she said softly.

‘Yeah.’

‘And he’s in good hands. The Hampstead Free has a really good reputation.’

‘I know.’ Ed sighed. ‘It’s just…’

‘He’s your brother. And you worry about him.’ She walked over to stand behind him and slid her arms round his neck. ‘I don’t have the right stuff in the fridge to cook you a fry-up, but I have the makings of other comfort food. Like a toasted cheese sandwich.’

‘Thanks, but I’m not sure I could eat anything.’

‘Trust me, some carbs will help you feel better.’

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. ‘You’re wonderful. I hope you know that.’

‘Sure I do,’ she said. She kept her voice light, but the fact that he felt like that about her made her feel warm from the inside out.

‘I’m not sure I could’ve got through seeing George like that without you there.’

She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Of course you would.’

‘But you made it better. Only you,’ he said softly.

‘Hey.’ She kissed him lightly, and busied herself making toasted sandwiches before she did something really stupid—like telling him she thought he was pretty wonderful, too.

‘George liked you,’ Ed said. ‘Though he’s going to torment me about the Tarzan thing. As soon as his hands have stopped hurting, he’s going to start beating his chest and doing the yell.’

‘And are you telling me you wouldn’t do the same to him, if he was seeing a girl called Jane?’

Ed looked faintly sheepish, and she laughed. ‘He’s very like you, you know.’

‘Apart from being in plaster and covered in bruises, you mean?’

‘No. I mean, he’s like you but without the brakes. He must drive his girlfriends crazy with worry.’

‘Not to mention his parents and his siblings,’ Ed said dryly. ‘He did go through a spell of racing cars, but Dad had a word with him.’

‘And that stopped him?’

‘Surprisingly, yes.’ Ed frowned. ‘He wouldn’t tell me what Dad said to him, but it must’ve been pretty tough.’

‘So he’s always done dangerous sports and what have you?’

Ed nodded. ‘You know you were saying I remind you of James Bond? That’s actually how George is. He thinks nothing of skiing down a double black diamond run.’

‘As I know nothing about skiing, I take that means it’s a really hard one?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes. But he’s been crazier these last six months,’ Ed said thoughtfully. ‘He’s taken a lot more risks.’

‘Did something happen six months ago?’

Ed thought about it. ‘Yes. I should’ve made him talk to me. But I guess I was still getting over the divorce and I wasn’t paying enough attention.’ He sighed. ‘Now he’s stuck in a hospital bed, he’s not going to have any choice—he’ll have to talk to me. And maybe I can help him sort out whatever’s going on in his head.’

Ed relaxed more after they’d eaten, though he seemed more comfortable in the kitchen than anywhere else, so Jane didn’t suggest moving. Eventually, he squeezed her hand. ‘You were going to study tonight. I’d better go. I’ve held you up long enough.’

‘It’s OK. I can catch up some other time—it’s not as if I’ve skipped studying for weeks on end,’ she said lightly. He looked so lost. She couldn’t possibly make him go back to his flat where he’d be on his own, brooding and worrying all night. ‘I think tonight you could do with not being on your own. So if you want to stay…’ She took a deep breath. ‘There are no strings. Just—if you want to stay, you’re welcome.’

‘I’d like that. I’ll have to leave at the crack of dawn so I can get some clean clothes before work, but if you’re sure?’

She smiled. ‘I’m sure.’

CHAPTER NINE

ED LAY awake; he was brooding, but not as much as he would’ve done had he been alone in his flat. Jane was sprawled all over him and it just felt better, being here with her. She had a huge heart and, even though he guessed that asking him to stay had put her in a vulnerable position, she’d seen exactly what he needed and hadn’t hesitated to offer.

He held her closer and, in response, her arms tightened round him.

Their lovemaking that night had been so sweet, so tender, and he felt that Jane really understood him—far more than anyone he’d dated before. OK, so they’d only known each other for a month, but it was long enough for him to have worked out that there was something special about her. Not just the calm, confident way she was with people at work, treating everyone with respect and kindness. Not just the physical stuff that made his heart beat faster. He liked her instinctively. He’d never felt so in tune with someone like this before. And he really hadn’t expected to fall for someone so fast.

He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. She’d come out of her shell a lot with him, but even so he didn’t want to take this too fast for her and risk her backing off again. But he was starting to hope that this was more than just a rebound fling—for both of them.

The next morning, Ed woke early; for a moment, he was disorientated, but then he remembered where he was. In Jane’s flat. In Jane’s arms.

Last night, he’d leaned on her. This morning, it was time to even up the balance. He gently disentangled himself from her arms, climbed out of bed and made coffee for them both.

‘Thank you for last night. For being there,’ he said softly, kissing her as he climbed back into bed.

‘It’s no problem. You would’ve done the same for me,’ she said.

‘Of course I would. You’re on the list of people who could call me at three in the morning and I wouldn’t yell at you for waking me up—I’d come straight to your side. And it’s not that big a list,’ he said. His parents, his siblings and his very closest friends. And Jane.

She smiled. ‘Snap.’

Funny how something so simple as drinking coffee in bed with her made his world seem brighter. He finished his coffee. ‘I’d better go back to my flat and get some clean clothes, but I’ll see you at work, OK?’

‘OK. And if you’re not busy at lunchtime,’ Jane said, ‘perhaps you might like to have lunch with Sorcha and me.’

He realised immediately what she was saying. Yesterday, he’d asked her to meet the closest person to him; and now she was returning the compliment. Letting him that little bit closer. ‘I’d like that,’ he said simply. ‘Very much.’

The ward was incredibly busy, that morning; Jane called Ed in to help her with a difficult delivery.

‘Just after his head emerged, his neck retracted and his cheeks puffed out.’

It was a classic symptom of shoulder dystocia, where the baby’s shoulder was caught on the mother’s pubic bone so they couldn’t deliver the baby.

‘Is the baby big for his dates?’ Ed asked.

‘And ten days overdue. But there weren’t any indications that it was going to be a problem.’

Shoulder dystocia was always a tricky situation, with the risk of the baby dying during delivery from not getting enough oxygen. Even if the baby was delivered alive, there was still a risk of a fractured collarbone or damage to the nerves in the baby’s neck.

Quickly, Jane introduced Ed to the mum and her partner and explained the situation to them.

‘If we can change your position,’ Ed said, ‘it’ll move your pubic bone and that should give us enough leeway to deliver the baby safely. Try not to push just yet, OK?’

‘OK.’

Gently, he and Jane guided the mum onto her back, with her bottom to the edge of the bed and her thighs guided back towards her abdomen.

‘Jane, do you know the Rubin manoeuvre?’ he asked.

‘I know the theory.’

‘Great.’ Though it meant that she’d yet to put it into practice. Well, that was what he was here for. He directed her where to put suprapubic pressure over the baby’s anterior shoulder so it moved towards his chest and would slip free. ‘I’ll tell you when to press,’ he said. ‘Rosie, can you get the neonatologist down?’ This baby would definitely need careful checking over in case of nerve damage or fractures.

He really, really hoped the manoeuvre would work; otherwise, given that the mum already had an epidural and wasn’t mobile, it would mean giving her an episiotomy and moving to more advanced intervention.

At the next contraction, he said, ‘Now,’ and gradually applied traction to the baby’s head.

To his relief, it worked, and the baby finally slipped out.

‘Well done,’ Ed said to the mum.

The neonataologist checked the baby over, then came over with a broad smile and gave the baby to the mum for a cuddle. ‘I’m pleased to say that he’s a very healthy little boy—he had a bit of a tough time coming into the world, but he’s absolutely fine.’

Ed and Jane exchanged a loaded glance. The outcome could have been so very different. Luck had definitely been on their side.

The mum was in tears of relief. ‘Oh, my baby.’ She looked at Ed. ‘Thank you both so much.’

‘It’s what we’re here for. Congratulations,’ Ed said with a smile.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ Jane added. She stroked the baby’s cheek, then wiped the tears away from her own. ‘Sorry. Newborns always make me cry. They’re so perfect.’

‘I think I need some sugar after that,’ Ed said.

‘Me, too.’ Jane blew out a breath. ‘That was a scary one. Thanks for talking me through it.’

‘I barely needed to do that—you already knew the theory.’

‘Which isn’t quite the same as doing it in practice, knowing what could happen if you get it wrong.’

‘But you got it right. And you’re a quick learner—you won’t need a word from me next time.’

‘Hopefully not.’ Jane glanced at her watch. ‘Perfect timing. Lunch.’

In the canteen, a gorgeous redhead was already waiting for them—a woman Ed recognised from the photograph in Jane’s flat.

‘Caught up in the delivery room?’ she asked.

‘Yup. And it was a scary one.’ Jane introduced them swiftly. ‘Sorcha, this is Ed, our new consultant; Ed, this is Sorcha, my best friend—she’s a rheumatologist.’

‘I hope you don’t mind me gate-crashing your lunch,’ Ed said, shaking Sorcha’s hand.

‘Not at all. It’s nice to meet you,’ Sorcha said.

During lunch, Ed could see her watching him and trying to work out what his relationship with Jane was—whether it was strictly work, or if there was more to it than that. So had Jane been keeping him as quiet as he’d been keeping her? he wondered. And for the same reason?

He could see the second that Sorcha worked it out. Because she smiled very sweetly at her best friend. ‘I am so desperate for a cappuccino. And a tiny, tiny bar of chocolate.’

‘And it’s my turn to fetch the coffee,’ Jane said, getting up. ‘OK. See you in a second.’

‘So how long have you been seeing Jane?’ Sorcha asked when Jane was out of earshot.

‘Seeing her?’ Ed asked.

She sighed. ‘Don’t play games. It’s obvious in the way you look at each other—apart from the fact that she already knows exactly how you take your coffee and whether you’re a chocolate fiend or not. I noticed she didn’t even need to ask you what you wanted.’

‘Right. Not long.’

Sorcha’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see. And this is a casual thing, is it?’

Well, if she was going to be that open with him, he’d give her the same courtesy. ‘No, I don’t think it is. And I’m glad she has someone to look out for her. My brother was still woozy from anaesthetic when he met her last night, or he would’ve been asking exactly the same questions. And, believe you me, my sisters are going to be every bit as careful as you when they meet her.’

‘You’re close to your family?’

‘Yes. My family’s great.’

Sorcha looked approving. ‘Jane’s like a sister to me.’

‘So she told me.’

‘She’s got the biggest heart in the world,’ Sorcha said, her gaze challenging.

‘Absolutely.’ He knew that first hand.

‘And she’s vulnerable.’

He knew that, too. ‘Thanks to Shaun.’

‘Him.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I tell you, if he had a heart, I’d be first in the queue to remove it with a rusty spoon.’

Ed got the message. Very firmly. Hurt Jane, and Sorcha would be on the warpath.

‘So she actually told you about him?’

‘Yes.’ He could see in Sorcha’s face that she hadn’t expected that. Clearly Jane didn’t usually talk about what had happened. ‘Look, I know Jane’s special. I’ll be careful with her, Sorcha. You don’t have to worry.’

‘Good.’ Sorcha bit her lip. ‘I can’t believe she actually told you about Shaun and J—’

‘OK, Sorcha, you can stop doing the guard dog act now,’ Jane cut in, carrying a tray with three mugs of coffee. ‘Sorry, Ed.’

‘Nothing to apologise for. I think Sorcha and I understand each other. Which is a good thing. We know we’re on the same side.’ He held Jane’s gaze. ‘Yours.’

‘Thank you. I think. But no more discussing me, OK?’

‘Unless we need to,’ Sorcha said.

Ed laughed. ‘I’m so tempted to introduce you to my brother, Sorcha. I think you might be the only woman in the world who’d have the ability to keep him under control.’

‘Too late. She’s already spoken for,’ Jane said.

‘Shame. You don’t happen to have a clone?’ he asked Sorcha hopefully.

Sorcha laughed. ‘No. But I think you and I are going to be friends.’

Jane didn’t go with Ed to visit George that evening, knowing that he needed some time alone with his brother so he could start persuading George to open up about whatever was bothering him. But she made it clear that Ed was welcome to drop in on his way home if he needed a hug and someone to talk to. As always, a hug turned to something more, and Ed ended up staying the night again. And she somehow ended up staying at his flat after they’d visited George on Friday night.

This was all going crazily fast; and yet she trusted Ed instinctively. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t like Shaun. He had integrity, he thought of others and he learned from his mistakes.

On Monday, she had a day off, and dropped in to see George in the morning.

‘I thought you could do with a fresh challenger at chess,’ she said.

‘Janey! How lovely to see you.’ He brightened when he saw what she was carrying. ‘Are they for me?’

‘Yup. Fresh English strawberries. And I’ve already washed and hulled them.’

‘Oh, wow. Has anyone told you lately that you’re wonderful?’ Then he looked at his hands. ‘Um, think they might be a bit cross with me if I get the casts covered in strawberry juice, and I’m not very good with cutlery right now.’

‘No. Breaking your wrists and your fingers is pretty harsh.’ She produced a spoon. ‘Bearing in mind that I’m a doctor, I think it might be OK for me to feed them to you. As I would do for any of my patients if they were in this state.’

‘I don’t expect any of your patients would end up with all these breaks,’ he said.