The Baby That Changed Everything. Kate Hardy

down really well with the customers, so I feel I’ve made some kind of contribution to the family business, apart from volunteering to tastetest any new stuff.’

      Clearly Bailey was very close to her family and Jared had a feeling that they adored her as much as she obviously adored them. And she cared enough about her patients to do something outside her comfort zone; he knew that it must’ve been daunting to ask him about the injury he didn’t talk about, but she’d asked him to see if he could help her patient rather than because she wanted to pry into his life.

      ‘Your patient,’ he said. ‘When are you seeing her next?’

      ‘Friday morning.’

      ‘I could,’ he suggested, ‘come and have a word with her, if you like.’

      ‘Really?’ The way she smiled at him made him feel as if the sun had just come out at midnight.

      ‘It might help her to talk to someone who’s been there and come out just fine on the other side,’ he said.

      ‘I think it would help her a lot. If you’re sure.’ She bit her lip. ‘I mean, I don’t want to rip open any old scars.’

      He smiled. ‘It was a long time ago now. And I was lucky—I had someone who helped me. It’s my chance to pay it forward.’

      She rested a hand on his arm; even through his sleeve, her touch made his skin tingle. ‘Thank you, Jared. I really appreciate it.’

      ‘No worries,’ he said.

      On Friday, Bailey saw Vivienne in her clinic at the London Victoria and examined her knee. ‘Obviously you’ve followed my advice about rest, ice, compression and elevation,’ she said.

      Vivienne nodded. ‘I want to play again as soon as possible. That means doing what you say.’

      Bailey smiled. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know you’re good to go for surgery and you can see the surgeon this afternoon.’

      ‘That’s great news,’ Mr Kaine said, patting his daughter’s shoulder. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Actually, there is something else,’ Bailey said. ‘Obviously I wouldn’t dream of breaking patient confidentiality, but I happen to know someone who had an ACL injury at your age, and I asked him for some advice for someone in your position.’

      ‘Was he a tennis player?’ Vivienne asked, looking interested.

      ‘No, he was in a different sport,’ Bailey said, ‘but the injury and the rehab are the same. Actually, he offered to come and have a chat with you. He’s waiting outside, if you’d like a word.’

      Vivienne turned to her father, who nodded. ‘That’d be great. Thanks.’

      Bailey opened her office door and looked out; Jared glanced up, caught her eye and came to the door. ‘She’d like to talk to me?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes. And thank you. I owe you,’ she said.

      ‘No. I’m just paying it forward,’ he reminded her. ‘Just as your patient will pay it forward, one day.’

      It was a nice way of looking at it, Bailey thought. She brought him into the room and introduced him to Vivienne and Mr Kaine.

      ‘Well, I never. Jared Fraser—the England footballer. I remember watching you play years ago. You were amazing.’ Mr Kaine shook Jared’s hand. ‘It’s very good of you to come in and talk to us.’

      ‘My pleasure,’ Jared said.

      ‘So do you still play for England?’ Vivienne asked.

      ‘No. Unfortunately, they couldn’t fix my knee. Though that’s not likely to be the case for you,’ he emphasised, ‘because Dr Randall tells me that you’re a really good candidate for surgery. If you follow the rehab programme to the letter you’ll be fine. Dr Randall asked me for my advice, and I thought it might be better for you to have it in person, just in case you have any questions.’

      Vivienne nodded. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Fraser.’

      ‘Right now,’ he said gently, ‘it probably feels like the end of the world and you’re worrying that you’re going to lose so much ground against everyone else.’

      She bit her lip. ‘That’s exactly how it feels.’

      ‘So you need to take it one day at a time, and find someone you can talk to—someone who won’t let you pity yourself, but will make you be sensible and get the right balance between doing enough work to strengthen your knee, but not so much that you damage it again and end up back at square one,’ Jared said.

      ‘That’s good advice,’ Mr Kaine agreed. ‘I’ll always listen, Vivi, but he’s right—you do need someone else to talk to.’

      ‘I was lucky,’ Jared said. ‘I had a great coach. And he made me see that although my knee wouldn’t hold up enough for me to play at international level again, I had other options. I could learn to coach, or I could do what I ended up doing—I trained as a doctor, and I’m still part of the sport because nowadays I work with the youth team of a premiership division club. So even if there are complications in the future and you don’t end up playing at this level again, you’ll still have options—you can still be part of tennis.’

      ‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ Vivienne said, ‘but I don’t want to be a coach or a doctor. I just want to play tennis. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’

      ‘And you will play again,’ Bailey said. ‘But, as Dr Fraser said, you need to follow your rehab programme.’

      ‘Waiting is the worst bit,’ Jared said. ‘You’ll want to push yourself too hard. But don’t. Use that time to study instead. Look at different techniques, look at the way your opponents play and use that to hone your strategy. To really succeed at a top level in sport you need just as much up here …’ he tapped his head ‘… as you need the physical skills.’

      ‘Vivi picked up a racket practically as soon as she could walk,’ Mr Kaine said. ‘I used to play—nothing like at her level—just at a club on Sunday afternoons, and her mum would bring her to watch. And she ended up joining in.’ He ruffled her hair. ‘When she started beating us hollow and she wasn’t even ten years old, we knew we were seeing something special in the making. And you’ll get that back, love. We just have to make sure we do everything the doctors tell us, OK?’

      ‘OK,’ Vivienne said.

      Bailey smiled at them both. ‘And I’ll do my very best to help you get that knee back to how it was, so you can go and get those grand slams.’

      ‘Can I be rude and ask, Mr Fraser, do you miss playing?’ Vivienne asked.

      ‘Sometimes,’ Jared said. ‘But I’m thirty-five now, so I’d be near the end of my professional playing career in any case. And I’m lucky because I really enjoy my job. It means I get the chance to help players fulfil their potential. If someone had told me that when I was your age, I would have laughed at them—but I really do feel I’ve achieved something when I see them grow and improve. So don’t rule it out as something you might do when you’re ready to retire from playing.’

      Vivienne looked thoughtful, and Bailey could see that Jared’s words had given her a different perspective—something that would make all the waiting during her rehab a lot easier. ‘Thank you, Mr F—Dr Fraser,’ she amended.

      When the Kaines had left, Jared was about to follow them out when Bailey stopped him. ‘Thanks for doing that, Jared—you’ve made a real difference to her.’

      ‘No worries.’

      ‘If I wasn’t up to my eyes in paperwork and appointments,’ she said, ‘I’d offer to take you for lunch to thank you properly. Or dinner—but I’m doing bridesmaid stuff for Joni tonight. So please consider this a kind of rain check.’ She took a plain white patisserie box from her