Название | The Holiday Escapes Collection |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sandra Marton |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474067737 |
‘I need a chest drain in Emergency One, stat,’ the harried doctor said to a nurse before turning to Charlotte. ‘Could you please wait in the waiting room? Someone will attend to you shortly.’
Damon stepped forward. ‘Our daughter has been admitted to this hospital and we would like to know where she is.’
The doctor stopped in his tracks at the authority in Damon’s tone. ‘You must be little Emily Woodruff’s parents. I’m sorry—we’ve been so busy this evening. She’s just been taken down to X-ray.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Charlotte asked, panic beating like the wings of a startled bird in her chest.
The doctor gave them both a reassuring smile. ‘Nothing too serious. It looks like a greenstick fracture to her arm. It won’t even need plaster. The X-ray is just to confirm my diagnosis. The young woman who brought her in is in Emergency Bay five.’
Caroline must have heard their voices as she was already coming out of the cubicle with Janie half asleep in her arms.
‘Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. It happened so quickly. I was on the phone to my mother. The girls really should have been in bed but they were playing so happily and I wasn’t watching for a moment and Emily fell off the sofa. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say…’
‘It’s all right.’ Charlotte gave her a quick hug, careful not to disturb little Janie. ‘The doctor said it’s just a greenstick fracture.’
‘It is serious,’ Damon said with a glaring frown. ‘What sort of babysitter allows a small child to injure herself?’
‘Damon, please…’ Charlotte put a hand on his arm. ‘This is not the time to—’
‘Not the time to what?’ he said, interrupting her coldly. ‘To tell me what I should have been told nearly four years ago? That is my daughter in there and I want to know how she came to be injured.’
‘You’re Emily’s father?’ Caroline said somewhat unnecessarily.
Charlotte’s eyes closed, her fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose as the tension of the evening built to explosion point in the middle of her forehead.
‘Yes,’ Damon answered stiffly. ‘Although I have only been informed of the fact less than fifteen minutes ago. How did my daughter injure herself?’
Charlotte, seeing the distress on her friend’s face, stepped forward. ‘Damon, please—this is not Caroline’s fault. Children hurt themselves all the time. Emily gets clumsy when she’s tired and falling off a sofa is virtually an everyday occurrence in a child of three. It’s not fair to blame Caroline.’
Damon turned his glittering gaze on her. ‘So it is you I should blame, is it not? For you are her mother and you left her under inadequate supervision.’
Anger flared in her eyes and, even though she knew it was unfair to dump what was really her own guilt on him, she did so regardless. ‘You were the one who insisted I spend this evening with you. If I hadn’t been forced to be with you, this might never have happened.’
Damon opened his mouth to defend himself when the rattle of a trolley turned his head and he saw his little daughter for the very first time…
‘Mummy?’ Emily’s little voice was strained and fearful as her chocolate-brown eyes went to where Charlotte was standing beside Caroline.
‘Oh, precious…’ Charlotte rushed to her and kissed her gently on her forehead, both her cheeks and the tip of her tiny nose. ‘Are you all right, darling? The doctor said you hurt your arm. You’re being so brave. Does it hurt very much?’
Emily’s bottom lip wobbled precariously. ‘Not now…I just wanted you to be wif me…’ She began to cry, big tears popping out of her eyes like oversized crystals.
Damon swallowed the rising emotion in his throat. He felt shut out and isolated. His own flesh and blood didn’t even recognise him, although he could see without a doubt she was his child. He had considered demanding a paternity test but he could see now it would be pointless. Emily looked exactly as Eleni had looked at the same age—the same dark brown, almost black hair, the same bottomless brown eyes and the same rosebud mouth and button nose.
Pain twisted inside him like a trapped and angry serpent, the venom of his anger stinging him in every possible place.
He had a child—a little daughter that Charlotte had kept from him. In spite of his earlier refusal to believe her, she’d had almost four years to tell him and yet she hadn’t. She hadn’t even told him over the last few days and yet she’d had every possible chance to do so. Three of his daughter’s birthdays had already passed; what else would he have missed if he hadn’t found out?
‘Ms Woodruff?’ The doctor who had spoken to Charlotte earlier came over with an envelope containing Emily’s X-rays. ‘Your daughter is free to go home. It is, as I suspected, a greenstick fracture, which requires nothing but a firm bandage and a review by an orthopaedic surgeon in three weeks. Here is a list of names of orthopaedic surgeons—you can choose one of these or go to your GP and they will refer you to one.’ He turned to his little patient with a smile. ‘You were very brave, Emily. I had a ten-year-old boy in here the other night with exactly the same condition and he yelled the place down.’
Emily’s big brown eyes went wide. ‘Weally?’
He gave her hair a quick but gentle ruffle. ‘I didn’t just have to bandage his arm—I was tempted to put a big plaster over his mouth.’
Emily giggled.
‘Thank you so much, Dr McHenry,’ Charlotte said after a quick glance at his name tag. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with her when she came in.’
The doctor gave her a tired smile. ‘I’m a parent myself,’ he said. ‘My wife and I both work shifts, so I know what a juggle it is with childcare and babysitting. Your friend did the right thing in bringing Emily in so promptly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to the rest of my patients. I’ll send a nurse over to see to that bandage. I even think we’ve got a pink one especially for little girls. Good luck, Emily, and don’t go falling off the sofa any more.’
‘I won’t.’ Emily smiled shyly.
Charlotte stood to one side as the nurse gently and expertly bandaged her daughter’s arm.
Caroline had quietly excused herself just moments before with Janie fast asleep on her shoulder, but Damon was still standing watching her with a stony expression on his face and Charlotte knew without a doubt that her nightmare of a night was far from over…
EMILY was asleep almost before the cab arrived, her little dark head lolling against Charlotte’s shoulder as she walked to the hospital entrance with Damon at her elbow.
She could feel his simmering anger; it was almost palpable in the cold night air. It was coming off him in scorching waves that threatened to peel off her skin every time he looked at her.
‘You have a lot of explaining to do,’ he bit out as he waved down a cab.
‘This is not the time or place,’ she said. ‘I need to get Emily home and into bed.’
‘This is not over, Charlotte,’ he warned her. ‘I swear to God this is not over.’
The cab arriving forestalled any further speech and Charlotte sank into the seat with her daughter snuggling up close.
‘Put her in the seat belt,’ Damon instructed.
Charlotte’s blue eyes battled with his for a moment before she did as he demanded, even though it produced a whimper of pain from Emily. She hadn’t