Wanted: A Father for her Twins. Emily Forbes

look at my operating schedule and work out when I can fit Charlie in. I’ll ring you and let you know what we can arrange. But whenever it is, there will definitely be no jelly coming anywhere near you, young man, doctor’s orders.’

      Charlie beamed at Nick and didn’t pull away when Nick placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked them out. They were in the hallway when Charlie turned and ran back into Nick’s office, leaving Rosie staring blankly after her nephew, his behaviour out of character. ‘Maybe he forgot something?’ They didn’t have time to wonder, though, as Charlie was already tearing back to them, a secret smile dancing around the corners of his mouth.

      It was much the same way Rosie felt, too, as she waved goodbye to Nick in the waiting room. Because, whatever else happened, she was at least guaranteed to speak to Nick again soon.

      Nick stopped by the receptionist desk to see who his next patient was, suppressing mild irritation when he was told they hadn’t shown up, with no phone call of explanation.

      ‘It’ll give you a chance to look at these.’ She handed over a thick yellow envelope marked ‘Confidential’.

      Nick cocked an eyebrow, asking, ‘The revised partnership agreement?’

      She nodded. ‘I’ll hold your calls for half an hour so you can go through it.’ She picked up another bundle of papers and slid it into his hands on top of the first envelope. ‘And if you get time, these referrals and reports need to be done. Sooner. Not later.’

      ‘You’re a slave-driver, you’re meant to protect me from the world, not be the one who attacks me,’ muttered Nick, but it was good-natured and even managed to bring out a glimmer of a smile to soften his receptionist’s serious features. He tucked the pile of papers under his arm and headed back to his office, free to contemplate the fact that a missed appointment wasn’t what was irritating him, and the partnership papers weren’t what was uppermost in his mind. It was the fact that he could’ve kept talking with Rosie and Charlie if his next appointment hadn’t been looming.

      Charlie was intriguing and he was determined to get him to talk at some stage. And his aunt? She fell into the intriguing category, too, a category that had been dismally empty for some considerable time now. Together, they made an interesting pair.

      Once at his desk, he slapped the pile of papers down, resolved to comb through the final agreement he’d been impatient to receive. Then his eyes caught a bright colour and his papers lay forgotten.

      A boiled lolly, red-and-green striped, shiny and hard, lay where it had been placed carefully in the centre of his notepad. He picked it up, inspected it momentarily and then lifted the pad on which someone had written, ‘They’re my favourite, too.’

      ‘Bingo,’ muttered Nick as he popped the lolly into his mouth. ‘He’s talking to me.’

      Rosie had long since tucked Charlie and Lucy into bed and they were now fast asleep. In the last two months, this had become the time of the day she most needed. It was also the time she most dreaded. She needed the breathing space but being alone left her facing the fact she was also lonely. Dreadfully so.

      Tonight, though, there was a certain comfort in being lonely. For a start, it made sense of her reaction to Nick today—and the first time she’d met him, too, if she was honest. If she wasn’t so lonely, if her life hadn’t changed so radically overnight with the unexpected deaths of her brother and sister-in-law, she wouldn’t be acting so out of character. She wouldn’t be knocked sideways by a stranger with a kind smile. All right, a killer smile. She’d noticed him, she was no nun, but she wouldn’t normally be rendered speechless or breathless or experiencing any of the symptoms he induced in her. That was obviously due to the demands of her new life. And her grief.

      She and the children had encased themselves in a bubble. Insular was the word for it. She saw her parents but they understood the circumstances all too well since they shared the same loss.

      Thanks to Nick, she could now say some feeling had returned and it was good. Noticing a very attractive man was a pleasant way of being enticed back into the land of the living but it didn’t mean anything more than that. She was only really noticing him because of her loneliness. It didn’t mean what she was trying to achieve for the twins was under threat.

      Her sole focus was to give her niece and nephew a sense of normality, knowing her own needs could wait. She was the adult. Her reaction to Nick had reminded her she was well and truly alive and although her needs might need to wait, they hadn’t been obliterated. She toyed momentarily with the idea of socialising beyond her immediate family so her old self didn’t disappear totally. The thought didn’t appeal, not yet.

      And yet the reality was she was sitting on the couch, alone, at eight o’clock at night, empty hours stretching before her. And that reality didn’t appeal either. In her old life she would have been heading out to watch a movie with a girlfriend or more likely to dinner with Philip and his political cronies. Now she was sitting on the couch contemplating making lunches and folding washing. Deciding she was too tired to do any of that, she flicked through the CD collection, looking for a way to break the silence. But the CDs belonged to her brother, David, and his wife, Anna. She didn’t want that reminder tonight.

      Most of her possessions were still in Canberra. She’d jumped on a plane when her parents had called her after the accident and had only been back briefly once. She had meant to have her things sent to her but somehow there was always something else needing to be done first. Now was as good a time as any to let her ex know her plans. Apart from a few clothes, the rest of her things were still in the apartment they’d shared.

      She picked up her mobile and hit the automatic dial for Philip’s mobile phone.

      ‘Rosie!’ He knew it was her before she spoke. There was some comfort in knowing he hadn’t deleted her number from his phone memory. Yet. ‘How are you?’

      How should she respond? She knew Philip wouldn’t want to hear the truth. She’d spent the past week looking after one sick child while trying to make sure the other got enough attention too and making sure the wheels didn’t fall off their lives completely. She’d learnt long ago that Philip was one of those people for whom ‘How are you?’ was really a rhetorical question. So she gave her standard response.

      ‘Good. Have you got a minute? I need to sort out getting some of my things sent up.’

      ‘I’m on my way out, we’ll talk about it on Saturday when I get to Sydney. For the dinner.’ He paused and she could hear in his voice that he was frowning, displeased. ‘With the New Zealand Prime Minister. You did remember?’

      ‘Yes,’ Rosie fibbed. He’d been right to doubt her, she’d totally forgotten. Her life was very much lived from one day to the next at the moment and Saturday night was still four days away. She wanted to go to a formal political event even less than she wanted to spend every night at home for the next year, but she’d promised. Had she just forgotten or had she just hoped the function would go away if she ignored it?

      ‘Are you sure—?’

      Philip read her intentions before she’d fully realised herself what she’d been about to say. ‘You promised, Rosie, and yes, it is important you’re seen with me.’

      Important she was seen with him, not important that she be with him. There was a difference. And it rankled.

      ‘I’m flying in at six and the car will come straight from the airport to pick you up. Formal dress.’

      What was the point in refusing? He was right, she had promised, and Rosie didn’t break promises or let people down, even if they were ex-boyfriends. There were lots of things Rosie didn’t do. But one thing she said a lot was, ‘Sure.’ Sure, no problem; sure, it’ll put me out but don’t you worry; sure, sure, sure. She sure was sick of saying ‘sure’.

      ‘We’ll talk then. Bye.’

      Typically, Philip had turned the conversation to his needs. He hadn’t even offered to bring any of her things with him. He could easily