White Christmas For The Single Mum. Susanne Hampton

up her daughter’s heavy overcoat, pulled a knitted cap from her bag and popped it over Bea’s mass of honey-blonde curls, pulling it down over her ears, and then slipped on her own coat again before walking the little girl outside into the wintry weather. She was still worried about leaving Bea for even five minutes, but common sense told her it would be safe. It was ten o’clock in the morning not the middle of the night and it was no longer snowing.

      Her father’s words rushed back into her head, ‘You can’t keep Bea in bubble wrap. Let her have some fun sometimes or she’ll grow up scared of taking chances. Who knows what she can do in life if she’s allowed to really live it? She might even become a surgeon like her mother...and grandfather.’

      Although Juliet loved her work, she wasn’t convinced medicine was the life she wanted for her daughter. Part of her wondered if the lack of a social life due to the years of heavy study load, and then the long shifts at the hospital as an intern, then as a resident didn’t assist Bea’s father to deceive her. She was far from streetwise about men. She’d had friends but never a love interest until she met him and he’d swept her off her feet and into his bed. Making her believe their night together was the beginning of something more. She wanted Bea to be wiser and not naive about the opposite sex.

      But that was many years away and this was a playground. But it was still making Juliet very nervous.

      She paused at the playground gate and looked down at her daughter, trying unsuccessfully to mask her concern.

      ‘Mummy, I’ll be good, I promith.’

      Juliet realised she was being silly. It was only a children’s playground and one she could see from inside and so too could all of the staff in the hospital foyer and the tea room. Juliet needed to meet with the now quite late Dr Warren. There might be a message from him any minute. She also wanted to meet the quadruplets’ mother as soon as possible to discuss her treatment plan. Bending down and looking Bea in the eyes, she said, ‘Mummy has to talk with the nice lady at the desk inside. I’ll be back in five minutes. You know my rule—don’t talk to strangers.’

      Bea nodded. ‘Okay.’

      With that Juliet closed the childproof gate with Bea inside the playground wearing an ear-to-ear smile, already making small snowballs with her tiny gloved hands. Juliet tugged again on the gate to check it was closed properly before she headed back inside. She doubted she would leave Bea for five minutes, estimating it would only take two to check again on Dr Warren’s whereabouts and see if there had been an update on his ETA. And she would be watching her the entire time through the large glass windows.

      * * *

      Charlie Warren pulled into the Royal Cheltenham hospital astride his black motorcycle. Both he and the bike were geared for riding in the harsh winter conditions of the southern English countryside. The sound of the powerful engine reverberated across the grounds as he cruised into the sheltered area of the car park. Charlie climbed from the huge bike that would have dwarfed most men, but, at six feet one, his muscular frame dressed in his leather riding gear stood tall against the bike. He removed his snow-splattered black helmet and heavy riding gloves and ran his still-warm fingers through his short but shaggy blond hair. It was cold riding to work every day, even brutal his colleagues would tell him some days in the middle of winter, but Charlie wouldn’t consider for a moment taking a car. He couldn’t; he didn’t own one. Not any more and not ever again. He hadn’t driven a car of any description in the two years since the crash.

      Two years and three days to be exact. The anniversary was only a few days earlier, and, he assumed, was the reason the nightmares had returned. He knew he would never forget the date. It was the day the life he loved had ended.

      After that, little brought him joy outside his work.

      He had nothing to look forward to each night he rode away from the hospital. So he didn’t stay away from Teddy’s for too long.

      * * *

      Juliet watched Bea giggling as she climbed carefully up each rung of the tiny ladder on the slide. Her gloved hands gripped on tightly, her tiny feet, snug inside her laced-up leather boots, struggled a little not to slide, but she still smiled a toothy grin at her mother. Juliet loved seeing her daughter so happy and she smiled back but her smile was strained. Worry was building by the minute as she watched her only daughter take each slippery step, but her father’s words resonated in her head, forcing her to stay put. Reminding her not to run to her daughter or call out, Climb back down...it’s dangerous.

      No, on this trip she would heed his instructions and let her daughter have a bit of fun after all and the slide was only a few feet tall.

      What could possibly go wrong?

      Bea looked down at each rung then back to her mother. Juliet could see that Bea thought she was such a big girl and seeing that reinforced that her father did know best. Juliet had to let Bea try new things. She had to unwrap the cotton wool that she had lovingly placed around her daughter...but only just a little.

      Juliet gave a little sigh and resigned herself to her four-year-old’s growing independence and her desire to encourage it but her fear at the same time. She wondered how she would cope when she turned sixteen and asked to get her driver’s permit. Mentally she shook herself. That’s twelve years away...you have time to prepare for it.

      With any luck Dr Warren would arrive before then, she sniggered to herself.

      At that moment, a smiling Bea lifted her right hand and waved at her mother. But Juliet didn’t have time to smile back as she watched in horror as Bea lost her concentration and then her footing. She gasped out loud as her daughter’s tiny hands lost their grip too. Helplessly Juliet watched from inside the building as Bea fell backwards to the ground.

       CHAPTER THREE

      CHARLIE SAW THE small child fall from the playground equipment. He was only too aware that while there was a thick blanket of freshly fallen snow in some places, in other areas there was only a thin covering. The shade the trees gave in summer when they were covered in lush green leaves was lovely but the branches had acted as natural canopies preventing the snow from building up to a level that would have broken her fall. He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach at seeing the child lying motionless on the ground and he rushed across the car park.

      While it wasn’t an overly tall slide, the child, he could see, was very tiny. As he drew closer he could see there was no one with her. Why would anyone leave a child out in the freezing weather unattended? He looked around and there was no one in sight. No one running to help. Fuelled by concern for the child and anger at the parent or parents, he raced to the gate.

      ‘How damned irresponsible,’ he muttered under his breath and shook his head. But his words were driven by something deeper. His dreams of being a father had ended the day his wife died and that made it even harder to see that this child had been left alone. If he were the father he would protect his child at any cost and he would never have left one so tiny out in the cold. Alone.

      He undid the safety latch with a sense of urgency as he heard soft moans coming from the child he could then see was a little girl, lying still on her side. She was conscious. He quickly crossed to her and knelt down. ‘You’ll be okay, honey. I’m a doctor at this hospital. I just want to see if you’ve been hurt.’ He kept his words to a minimum as he could see just how young she was.

      ‘Where’th Mummy? I want Mummy.’ Bea’s eyes suddenly widened and began to fill with tears.

      ‘We’ll try and find Mummy,’ he said as he wondered the very same question.

      Where the hell was the little girl’s mother? And her father?

      As he began to check her vital signs he guessed she was between three and four years of age. ‘Where does it hurt?’

      ‘My arm hurths,’ she said, abruptly sitting upright with tears running down her ruddy cheeks.

      Charlie was surprised but relieved