His Unexpected Child. Josie Metcalfe

he’d requested.

      And there she was, back inside his head again, no matter how hard he tried to keep her out. He had far more important things to think about than a pair of serious grey eyes and a wealth of honey-blonde hair tied tightly back to reveal the delicate bone structure of her face.

      He shook his head, glad that Maggie couldn’t see him. What did it matter that his new colleague was tall and slender and filled with almost incandescent nervous energy? It certainly hadn’t helped her to keep on top of a simple job like keeping the office straight. Come Monday, he dreaded discovering that her attention to other things, like the important details that should have been recorded in each of those case notes since her superior died, was equally slap-dash. In the short time she’d had free, he hadn’t been able to do much more than get an idea of the scope of patients currently under investigation and treatment, and the general routine of the department on a daily and weekly basis.

      ‘Would Jake be happy working in a disorganised department?’ he challenged gently. ‘I bet the first thing he did when he got his consultancy was go over every tiny detail in person.’

      ‘And you’d win, you rat!’ Maggie grumbled. ‘Just promise me something—don’t ruffle too many feathers on your first day. Take it gently until you’ve had a chance to get to know the people you’ll be working with. They’re a good tight-knit team.’

      ‘Yes, Mother,’ he said in a singsong voice. ‘I’ll play nicely with the other boys and girls.’

      ‘Oh, you’re impossible!’ she spluttered. ‘Sometimes I don’t know why I bother.’

      ‘Because I’m your lovable big brother?’ he suggested, tongue in cheek.

      ‘Exactly,’ she said, heaving a theatrical put-upon sigh. ‘But, seriously, David…’

      ‘Uh-oh! When she uses those dreaded words…!’ he teased. ‘It’s OK, Moggy. You can stop worrying about me, I’m a big boy now.’

      ‘I know that, but I don’t just want you to be successful, I want you to be happy, too,’ she said plaintively.

      The words hung in the air between them for several seconds.

      David knew exactly what she meant. Since she’d found happiness with Jake, she wanted everyone to be equally happy, but he knew that wasn’t possible for him. He’d had his chance and it had all gone horribly wrong.

      ‘It wasn’t your fault, David,’ she said softly in his ear, and he shivered at the accuracy of the way she’d followed his thoughts. Was he really that transparent?

      ‘That didn’t make any difference to the pain,’ he said gruffly, startled that he’d even admitted that much. In fact, it was probably the most he’d said to anyone about the loss that would haunt him for ever, and it would be the last. ‘So, if you don’t mind, little sister, I’ll concentrate on my new job and making the department second to none. That’ll make me happy.’

      ‘But you can’t take the department to bed for a cuddle,’ she retorted stubbornly. ‘David, you can’t cut yourself off from people like that. If you don’t want to talk to me, you could phone Mum and Dad. Calls to New Zealand may be expensive, but on your salary—’

      ‘No way!’ he exploded a second before he could put a guard on his tongue.

      ‘What?’ Maggie sounded startled. ‘But, David, you’ve always been so close to them—they moved halfway round the world to be near you, for heaven’s sake. Surely they’d be willing to listen if you wanted to talk?’

      ‘Too damn close!’ he muttered under his breath, then realised that he needed to make some sort of explanation.

      ‘Mum and Dad—at least, Mum—is one of the reasons why I left New Zealand. I had to get away, Maggie. She was still trying to smother me, the way she did when I was a kid. I’m thirty-four, for heaven’s sake! I don’t need my mother to bandage my grazed knees and kiss them better!’

      Maggie giggled. ‘That’s an image to conjure with!’

      ‘Well, it’s not so funny when you’re on the receiving end of it,’ he pointed out grimly.

      ‘But, David—’ she began persuasively, but he’d had enough.

      ‘And you’d better watch your step,’ he warned. ‘If you’re going to start nagging, I’ll set Jake on you. I’ll tell him that he needs to keep a closer eye on you.’

      ‘Don’t you dare!’ she squealed in dismay. ‘I can hardly breathe as it is. If somebody from Obs and Gyn told him I needed watching he’d never let me out of his sight.’

      ‘That’s because you and the baby mean that much to him,’ he pointed out softly, the pain of memories tightening its grip around his throat and his heart. ‘Enjoy every precious minute of it, Moggy. Sleep tight.’

      ‘This isn’t working,’ Leah muttered as she stepped back from her little workbench in disgust.

      Usually she could lose herself in the timeless art of repotting, trimming and training her precious bonsai trees, the cares of the day simply melting away as she put her concentration to each measured task. Tonight it just wasn’t happening and it was all his fault.

      ‘I might just as well be doing something useful, rather than risking spoiling one of you,’ she muttered as she collected and cleaned her tools and put them away. ‘And I know just the job.’

      Decision made, it took mere moments before her hands were washed and she was reaching for her keys with a wry grimace. It would always seem wasteful to drive such a short distance, but it would be a very foolish woman who would wander about in the deep shadows between her flat and the hospital buildings in the dark.

      Not long after that, she’d shut herself in the nighttime seclusion of the untidy office and was rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the final stage in her reorganisation of Donald’s filing system. The audit of all his files had been long overdue and a surprising number should already have been sent to the hospital archives. The remaining stacks were a far more manageable number for the available space in the filing cabinets.

      She pulled open the first empty drawer and couldn’t help chuckling when she remembered the horrified expression on David ffrench’s face when he’d seen the chaos in the room. It had been sheer stubbornness mixed with her disappointment at losing out on the head of department job that had stopped her from explaining what was going on, and she felt a bit guilty about it now.

      ‘Guilty enough to lose some sleep to finish the job, but as I’ve already checked the contents of each one of these and put them all into alphabetical order, at least this part should be a breeze,’ she muttered as she prepared to slot each file into position. In a relatively short space of time she could have every last piece of paper filed neatly out of sight and she could push the last drawer shut with a warm feeling of achievement.

      Suddenly she paused and threw a disparaging glare around the room.

      ‘The trouble is, when there are none of Donald’s piles of filing to distract the eye, it will be even more obvious just how shabby everything has become.’

      The walls, in particular, could do with a fresh coat of paint—something rather more welcoming than dingy Institution Beige. ‘But fresher walls will make the curtains look worse than ever,’ she muttered in defeat, until an image of the spare pair of curtains lurking back at her flat leapt into her head. She’d bought them for her last flat and, while they didn’t fit any of the windows in her new one, they were still nearly new.

      ‘And if I can corner one of the maintenance men some time tomorrow…Even if he can’t do something about it, perhaps I could get him to beg a can of paint from the stores. Then I could come back again tomorrow evening…’

      Course of action decided, she put the pile of files back where she’d got them from, switched off the light and locked the door behind her, a tiny smile betraying the thought that she was actually looking