He found he looked forward to working with her every day. And now she was bringing hope into his life by agreeing to have his baby. Their baby.

He put down his fork and reached for her small hand. ‘You won’t change your mind, will you, Chantal?’ he said huskily.

She felt the warmth of his hand around hers and skin against skin seemed almost erotic. She could feel deep down that being with Michel was affecting her more than it should.

‘No, of course I won’t change my mind.’ She stood up. ‘Dessert?’ she asked briskly.

He could feel something like an electric current running between them. Inside him was a powerful feeling of wanting to take Chantal in his arms and hold her until the feeling went away. He stood up and put his arms around her, drawing her close. This didn’t make sense. She should be pushing him away, telling him to stick to the plan. He bent his head to kiss her.

She parted her lips as every sense in her body ignited with passion and longing. She was feeling overwhelmed by the sensual fluidity of her body as she moulded herself against Michel’s hard, virile, muscular frame. She was melting away as he held her tightly. There was a powerful force gripping her. She didn’t even want to stir in his arms in case the dream ended.

He lifted her into his arms, carrying her towards the door. There was no need for words as he carried her upstairs. They were both intent on giving in to the magic of the moment. There was no need to justify his actions or her compliance. Life was too precious to banish moments like this.

Dear Reader

I’ve returned once more to my favourite part of France for the setting of HER MIRACLE TWINS. I fell in love with the area when I strolled hand in hand one summer’s day along a favourite beach with my boyfriend, John, who was soon to be my husband. Later we took our children. Now some of our children and grandchildren live not far from this beach.

I still walk along the same beach if I’m searching for a new romantic story. Although my husband died a few years ago I still feel the inspiration he used to give me when I needed to conjure up a romantic hero.

The beach is set in a beautiful area of hills and valleys near fashionable Le Touquet and the picturesque old town of Montreuil-sur-Mer. It’s a perfect background for the romance of Chantal and Michel. In HER MIRACLE TWINS we also meet up again with Chantal’s cousin Julia and her husband, Bernard, who were the hero and heroine in SUMMER WITH A FRENCH SURGEON. Chantal, like her cousin Julia, has many emotional obstacles to overcome before she finds true love and happiness.

I hope you enjoy reading this romantic story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Margaret

MARGARET BARKER has enjoyed a variety of interesting careers. A State Registered Nurse and qualified teacher, she holds a degree in French and Linguistics, and is a Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music. As a full-time writer, Margaret says, ‘Writing is my most interesting career, because it fits perfectly into family life. Sadly, my husband died of cancer in 2006, but I still live in our idyllic sixteenth-century house near the East Anglian coast. Our grown-up children have flown the nest, but they often fly back again, bringing their own young families with them for wonderful weekend and holiday reunions.’

Her Miracle Twins
Margaret Barker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To John, my inspiration always.

Table of Contents

Cover

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘IT WAS THAT wretched stone just under the surface that tripped me up, Michel. Look at that dreadful, jagged monster. Somebody must have—’

‘Chantal, keep still, will you? I’m trying to assess how much damage you’ve done.’

‘Damage I’ve done? I’m trying to keep still but— Ow, that hurt!’

Sprawled on the sand, Chantal glared up at the tall, athletic man in white running shorts and black tee shirt who was now kneeling on the sand beside her. He appeared to have come from nowhere as she’d tripped and hurt her ankle. She deduced he must have been running behind her, but he was barely recognisable as the suave director of Accident and Emergency she was used to seeing as she worked alongside him at the Hôpital de la Plage.

‘If you weren’t my boss I’d …’

He looked down at her, smiling in the most patronisingly irritating yet surprisingly sexy way, his fingers firmly supporting her swelling ankle. She told herself to concentrate on the pain, which would help her to stop fantasising about something that was never going to happen to her again—especially with the usually serious, work-focussed Dr Michel Devine.

‘I’m going to have to carry you up the beach to my car up there on the promenade so I can get you back to the hospital.’

‘No! I don’t want to be carried. Just help me to my feet so I can hop as far as—’

‘Be quiet, Dr Winstone, and that’s an order! ’

She frowned as she decided to give in to him. He always got his own way in Urgences but she’d never seen him quite so domineering before. She couldn’t help admiring the expression on his face. It made him appear even more desirable as a man. And she didn’t do desirable any more. Not since last September.

She decided the pain was addling her brain, filling her head full of mad ideas. Weird feelings she would never have contemplated since she’d changed completely on that awful night.

Effortlessly, Michel picked her up and carried her in his arms across the sand. The pain in her ankle was now becoming more intense. She decided to give in completely. He was, after all, the most experienced expert in accidental injuries for miles around, probably in the whole of France. And it was a good feeling to simply relax in his arms.

Yes, she should be grateful he’d come along when he had. And the pleasant feeling of strong, muscular, masculine arms around her helped to counteract the pain. Since the two-timing Jacques had done the dirty on her she’d never expected to tolerate a man’s arms around her again.

As he was loading her into the back seat of his car she put on a contrite tone of voice and told him she was sorry.

‘Sorry for what? Being a difficult patient? Forget it. I get to see them every day. Once I’ve shown them how to co-operate, as I did with you, we get on fine. Your childish behaviour was because you were suffering from shock, probably still are.’

He was looking directly into her eyes now, an expression of concentration creasing his forehead. She found herself admiring his warm, brown, expressive eyes.

‘How’s the pain now? Worse?’

She nodded as a particularly sharp spasm passed through her ankle. ‘Mmm. Do you have any—?’

He was already pulling out a strip of painkillers from his glove compartment. ‘Swallow those two with this water.’ He opened a new pack. ‘Now, try to keep the ankle as still as you can. I’ll get it X-rayed as soon as we get back to hospital.’

She lay still as Michel drove off. The welcome sight of the Hôpital de la Plage came into view and she gave a sigh of relief.

‘It was the warm spring sunshine that tempted me out this Sunday morning,’ she muttered, almost to herself, as Michel drove up to the front entrance of the hospital. ‘I should have stayed in bed.’

‘So should I. I hadn’t planned that I would have to work on my day off.’

He switched off the engine as a porter arrived to remonstrate with the owner of this car parking in an ambulance space.

‘Oh, sorry, Dr Devine. I hadn’t recognised you. I see you’ve got a patient on the back seat so— Oh, it’s you, Dr Winstone. Are you all right?’

‘No, she’s not all right. Could you please bring a stretcher and then park my car in the staff car park?’

Chantal could tell that Michel was reverting to type after his initial attempt to be patient with her. She remained very still and quiet as a nurse came out to help the porter load her onto the trolley. Michel supervised while holding her right ankle to prevent any further damage as they trundled along to X-Ray.

‘Good news No fractures.’ Michel was pointing out the X-rays illuminated on the screen.

She raised her head from the pillow.

‘Thank heavens for that. So it’s simply a sprain. I’ll get the ankle strapped up and I’ll be on duty again tomorrow morning.’

He frowned. ‘Chantal, there’s nothing simple about a sprain, as you well know. I think you’ve been lucky that you haven’t torn the surrounding ligaments but there’s been mild stretching of the ligaments which will have to be dealt with. The treatment is to minimise the pain. You’ve started on the paracetamol. Two five hundred mg every six hours will take the edge off it. For the first three days you need complete rest, ice-pack applications pressed on to the injury for fifteen minutes every two hours and—’

‘Michel, I can’t possibly do all that. I’ve got too much to do.’

‘Exactly. That’s why I’m going to put you in a side ward attached to Female Orthopaedic. I take no chances with my staff. Deal with a sprain properly at the beginning and future problems shouldn’t arise.’

Chantal lay back on the trolley, looking up at the bright lights above her head. Michel was on the phone to the orthopaedic sister. He was smiling now. ‘Yes, we’re coming along now if that’s OK with you, Sidonie? Good. Yes, you know Chantal, Dr Winstone. She’s been with us in Emergency since February. We’ll go over the treatment she needs when I arrive. I’ve got hold of a porter at last. Be with you in a couple of minutes.’

Half an hour later Chantal was safely settled in an orthopaedic bed, wearing the most unglamorous hospital pyjamas. Her right leg was elevated on hard orthopaedic cushions, Sister Sidonie was applying an ice pack to the painful area. Michel was watching her every move as if ready to criticise.

‘Ow!’ Chantal found it impossible to check her cry as Sister pressed on the painful area.

Michel was nodding his approval. ‘That’s exactly right, Sister. More pressure on the injury just there. Keep it like that for fifteen minutes. Here, let me show you the exact pressure required to reduce this inflammation.’

Taking over from Sister Sidonie, he placed his fingers on Chantal’s ankle.

‘Michel!’

‘Yes, I expect that did hurt a bit but you’ll thank me for this later.’

Chantal lay back against the pillows and gave in. She didn’t know what he had in mind for the thanks she would have to give him. Even through the pain he was inflicting she got a thrill at the touch of his fingers. Most bizarre. She’d worked with this man for over two months and hadn’t ever thought of him in this way. As she’d suspected earlier, the pain must have addled her brain. She’d gone back to childhood days and was imagining he was a knight in shining armour who’d come to rescue her from danger, probably on a white horse instead of simply jogging along the beach.

‘That’s better.’ He smiled and patted her hand.

His teeth were very white, she noticed now, very even. His dark hair, which was hanging down over his forehead as he leaned over her, gave him a rumpled, little-boy look, something she’d never seen before as he worked efficiently on his patients. But it was those sexy dark brown eyes that were impossibly attractive. How come they hadn’t registered with her until this morning?

‘Sister, I’ll be back later in the day. Reapply the pack for fifteen minutes every two hours. In about four days we’ll be able to put the ankle in a tubular compression bandage and get the physiotherapist to introduce massage, ultrasound therapy and gentle joint movement.’

Chantal raise her head. ‘Michel, when can I go back to my room in the medics’ quarters?’

‘That will depend on your progress. Hopefully in a few days we should be able to get you up on crutches. Once you can move around with the use of a stick I might let you go back to your room so long as you don’t take any weight on the right ankle. You may even spend an hour or so in Emergency doing paperwork or something non-strenuous. We’ll have to see how you get on.’

She couldn’t help noticing that he’d reverted to his totally professional manner with her. She was just another patient requiring attention on his day off. Fine. He was just another medical colleague. When these unusual flights of fancy left her she would revert to type as well.

He was glancing at his watch. ‘Any questions before I have to go?’

She suddenly felt a moment of panic. ‘When will you be coming back?’ As soon as she’d asked the pathetic question she regretted it. What was the matter with her? The pain gave her an excuse perhaps but she hoped he didn’t read anything into it.

Sidonie was smiling at her in a reassuring, almost maternal way. ‘It’s OK, Chantal, we’ll take care of you.’

‘I’ll be back this evening. Don’t worry. A month from now you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about.’

She certainly would. As she watched the lithe, athletic figure disappear through the door she was experiencing mixed emotions. Somehow she felt she was getting to know the real person beneath the dour façade Michel presented to his professional colleagues. Her emotions this morning were dangerously out of order. She too had always elected to present a façade to her colleagues to cover up the agony she’d been through before she’d started working here.

Sidonie applied more pressure with the ice pack. ‘Quite a charmer, isn’t he?’

Chantal hesitated. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say that. He’s good at his job.’

‘Oh, he’s devoted to his job. You know his wife died don’t you? Over three years ago, I believe. Apparently, she died of cancer and he’s never got over it. We all fancied him when he arrived to be Director of Emergency, over a year ago now.’

Sidonie gave an expressive sigh. ‘Well, who wouldn’t fancy him? Tall, dark and handsome and built like an athlete. But he made it quite clear to all of us that he wasn’t interested in relationships. He’s the sort of man who obviously adored his wife and will never take a long-term girlfriend. Definitely not remarry, that’s for sure! She must have been a very special woman to deserve such loyalty from him.’

Sidonie paused in her observations and gave another sigh. ‘That’s unfortunate for all the unmarried staff who lavish attention on him. If I wasn’t a forty-year-old married woman with two children I’d fancy him myself.’

She removed the ice pack and smiled down at her patient. ‘You’ve been working in Emergency since February, haven’t you? I heard you were on the medical staff of a hospital in Paris before you came here. How does the Hôpital de la Plage compare to your previous hospital?’

Chantal hesitated. ‘Well, it’s different. Actually, it’s like coming home for me. You see, I was born just a few miles away in Montreuil. My English father died when I was seven. My French mother resumed her teaching career after that and she took me to live in Paris where she’d got a job. That’s where she brought me up, although we always used to return to this area and stay here during the long summer vacation.

‘This coastline feels like my second home because I know it so well. When I was old enough I did my medical training in Paris and took a staff position when I qualified.’

Sidonie put the ice pack down on a trolley and sat down beside her patient. ‘Was it because you regard this area as your second home that you chose to leave Paris?’

Chantal looked at the figure of the kindly woman and found her experienced presence very comforting. She welcomed a girly chat to take her mind off the pain and the unexpected turn of events today.

She lay back against her pillows. ‘It was a sudden decision. Very sudden.’

She drew in her breath as the awful memory of that fateful day flooded back to her.

‘One minute I was on cloud nine, in love with the man of my dreams, three months pregnant with his much-wanted baby.’

She hesitated. Should she, indeed could she, go on? What did she have to lose?

‘Then the phone rang and everything changed.’

Her voice was quavering as she gathered her thoughts. Was it really a good idea to unload the sordid details onto someone who was a colleague?

The orthopaedic sister was watching her with a deeply sympathetic expression on her face, as if anticipating what was to come. Oh, it would be good for her to get it off her chest. She’d bottled it up ever since she arrived at the Hôpital de la Plage. It was about time she relaxed and socialised a bit more. It wasn’t her fault she’d been totally hoodwinked by a despicable, two-timing scoundrel.

She could hear the sound of a heavy trolley being pushed past her door through the swing doors into the ward and the murmur of the nurses and patients as the doors opened.

A nurse knocked, before opening her door. ‘Dr Winstone, would you like some lunch?’

Chantal shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Nurse.’

Sidonie turned her head. ‘Is everything OK in the ward, Sylvie?’

The young nurse smiled. ‘Fine, Sister. A nice quiet Sunday for once.’

‘I’ll be back to check the medicines after you’ve served the lunch. Pay attention to the patients on extra fluids, won’t you?’

‘Of course, Sister.’ She turned back to her patient. ‘So what happened after the phone rang?’

Chantal moved her good foot into a more comfortable position at the side of the cushions supporting her injured ankle as that fateful evening last September came flooding back.

‘I was in the kitchen in my apartment, roasting a chicken for our supper, I remember. My boyfriend had phoned earlier to invite himself round that evening so I’d picked up a chicken at the supermarket on my way home from hospital.’

She swallowed hard. ‘The phone rang. I answered it. It was a woman’s voice. She asked if Jacques was there. I called him over and went on preparing the meal. I assumed it was probably one of his private patients. He seemed to have lots of those. He was such a charming person. Unpredictable, though. I never knew when he was going to turn up.’

Already she could feel the bitterness welling up inside her. ‘He took the phone into the sitting room. I could hear his voice, very low, more like a whisper. Then suddenly he started shouting. ‘No, you mustn’t do that! No, you can’t come here. You can’t! ’

Sidonie sat very still as she waited for Chantal to continue. She could see how upset she was.

‘He slammed down the phone and came back into the kitchen. His face was drained of all colour and he was trembling. At the same time I could hear footsteps on the stairs coming up from the ground floor of my apartment block. Then hammering on the door.’

‘Who was it?’

‘His wife. I had no idea he was married. It transpired that she’d been caring for her sick mother in the south of France for a few months. A friend had tipped her off that her husband was being unfaithful and had given her my address and phone number.’

‘So what happened when his wife arrived?’

Chantal cleared her throat. ‘She started shrieking at him. Hitting him in the chest with her fists. He grabbed her wrists, fending off the blows as he tried to placate her. He said he could explain everything. How pathetic! The evidence was there before the poor woman’s eyes, for heaven’s sake. I found myself feeling sorry for her.’

‘So, did she start shouting at you?’

‘No, that was the strange thing. She barely glanced at me. It was her pig of a husband she was mad with. I’d heard enough about his womanising as she continued to hurl abuse at him. I just wanted it all to stop. So I opened my door and asked them both to leave.’

‘And then?’

‘They noticed me at last. His wife grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. I continued to hold the door wide open. She was still shouting. I told them both again to get out of my apartment. After they’d gone I went into my bedroom. My brain had gone numb. I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep.’

No, she couldn’t tell her any more of the agony that had come afterwards, not now anyway. She wanted to move forward with her life. She was a different person from the innocent, trusting woman she’d been. The heartbreaking experience later that night had changed her for ever. She couldn’t even speak about her miscarriage.

‘I’m sorry, Sidonie, to burden you with all this.’

Sidonie leaned across and patted her hand. ‘Thank you for sharing a confidence with me. I feel privileged to have been told something of your background. You always seemed so quiet and withdrawn when you first started working in Emergency. I hadn’t realised the suffering you’d been through. If ever you need a shoulder to cry on …’

‘Thanks, but I’ve done all the crying I’m going to do. The past is over. It’s the present and the future that are important to me now.’

She must have fallen asleep after Sister had gone back into the ward. The sun, which had been shining full into her window, had dipped below the rooftops of the hospital. She became aware of someone being in the room and turned to look at her bedside chair.

‘I hope I didn’t wake you?’

‘Julia! What a lovely surprise.’ She held out her arms at the sight of her cousin then winced as she unwittingly moved her damaged ankle.

Julia rose to her feet. ‘Don’t try to move, Chantal.’ She bent down and kissed her cheek. You looked so peaceful when I came in. Sister said you would probably be waking up soon.’

‘Oh, it’s so good to see you again. How did you know I was here?’

‘Well, Bernard phoned Sidonie this afternoon to say he was coming in to Orthopaedics to check on the patient he’d chosen for teaching purposes tomorrow morning. Bernard always asks their permission, checks these patients carefully and makes sure they know that he will be supervising his students all the time. I remember when I was one of his students I was always so impressed with the care he took to ensure the patients knew exactly what they were letting themselves in for.’

‘I love to hear about when you were one of Bernard’s students and you found him so difficult and demanding as a professor while you were studying with him for that prestigious exam in orthopaedic surgery.’

Julia laughed. ‘He was only being difficult, he told me afterwards, to ensure I got the best results. After that I managed to thaw him out and … well, you know how it all ended. Marriage and a baby on the way. Anyway, Sister Sidonie told Bernard you were in the side ward here, having sprained your ankle and stretched the ligaments. That must be really painful. I just had to come and check how you are and if there was anything you need.’

‘I can’t fault the way they’ve treated me. Right from the time Michel picked me up off the beach’

‘Michel? What on earth were the two of you doing on the beach together?’

Chantal, well aware of the insinuating grin on her cousin’s face, quickly set her straight with the basic details, starting with the important fact that they hadn’t gone to the beach together. Michel had arrived just as she’d tripped up on a killer of a stone absolutely lying in wait for her.

‘Ah, I see. So Michel brought you back to hospital, set up your treatment and then disappeared.’

‘He’s coming back this evening to check on me. How’s young Philippe?’

Julia’s expression softened. It was always obvious that she adored her husband’s son from his first marriage.

‘He’s fine. Marianne—you remember our brilliant housekeeper who’s been with the family since she was sixteen? Well, she’s at home with Philippe. We told him we were going to see you but that he couldn’t come to see you this time because he had an early start tomorrow. School in the morning, so it was an early night tonight. Marianne was giving him supper when we left and we’ll be back in time to read him a bedtime story.’

Chantal gave a nostalgic sigh. ‘I always loved the bedtime stories you and I had when we were staying together at your house or mine in Montreuil before Mum and I went to live in Paris, didn’t you?’

Julia smiled. ‘We lived more like sisters in those days, just like our mothers had been, didn’t we?’

Chantal giggled. ‘And because our mothers are identical twins I used to wake up sometimes in the night at your house, calling out for my mother. When your mother came in I was convinced she was mine. Oh, hello, Bernard.’

Her cousin-in-law came over and kissed her cheek. ‘How are you getting on, Chantal? Are they treating you OK?’

‘I’m being spoiled rotten.’

‘Even by the exacting Michel?’

Someone else was pushing open the door. Chantal watched as Michel advanced into the crowded side ward. He grinned as he overheard Bernard’s comment about him.

Bernard shook his colleague’s hand. ‘Sorry, Michel, I didn’t know you were coming back this evening. Such devotion to duty.’

Michel raised an eyebrow. ‘And on my day off too!’

‘Actually, we were just leaving. Promised to be back home before Philippe goes to sleep. He adores Marianne but there’s nothing like a paternal voice reading the bedtime story, is there?’

Bernard held out his hand to help his wife as she got to her feet.

She smiled up at him. ‘Oh, so you’re volunteering to read the story tonight, are you?’

‘Don’t want to tire you out, my love.’ He placed a hand gently over Julia’s pregnant bump. ‘Only a few weeks to go now.’

‘Don’t forget you promised to make me godmother,’ Chantal said.

‘You’ll be the most perfect godmother,’ Julia said as she bent over the bed to give her cousin a kiss.

After they’d gone Michel lost no time in checking out her injured ankle. He looked down at her as his experienced fingers gently palpated the damaged area. She winced but refrained from comment as she looked up at him. His expression was so sensitive, so caring, so totally wrapped up in what his patient had suffered and was going through. She told herself that was all she was, another patient. And that was how she wanted their relationship to remain.

‘Good. The swelling’s going down. Sister’s done a good job this afternoon.’

He sat down in the chair beside the bed. ‘Anything you’d like to ask before I go?’

She found herself wishing she dared ask him to stay longer but instead she shook her head and told him she was sure the nurses would continue to take care of her. Better to dampen down the ridiculous feelings she was experiencing. Who needed male company anyway? Certainly she didn’t.

He stood up. ‘I’m sure they will. I’ll go and see Sister now and find out who’s on duty this evening. You must have some supper, Chantal. Got to keep up your strength. I’ll be back in the morning to see you.’

She watched as the door closed after him, willing the sad feeling to go away. She knew she mustn’t allow these insane seductive feelings about Michel to enter her mind. In her post-Jacques life she’d convinced herself that she could never trust a man with her heart again. She would never open herself up to potential pain. She must remind herself every day and never weaken her resolution.

Michel drove out of the staff car park at a furious rate. He slowed as he started to ascend the narrow winding road to the top of the hill. This was always where he began to relax after he’d been on duty. But today he found it harder than usual to switch off, even though technically, it had been his day off.

Reluctantly he admitted to himself that the problem was Chantal. Ever since she’d joined the staff in Emergency in February he’d been aware of her. She was different from all the others. Someone whose company he enjoyed. But it was a totally platonic feeling. It had been more than three years since Maxine had died and his love for her had grown stronger. Every day he still grieved. But somehow when he was with Chantal he became interested in her as a woman.

Surely, that didn’t mean he was being unfaithful to the memory of Maxine, did it? It just meant he was a full-blooded normal male and being with an attractive, intelligent woman like Chantal stirred him. But he wouldn’t allow himself to go along with those feelings. Being with her today, touching her skin, smelling the scent of her body had brought it all to a head. He certainly didn’t want to act on any of these feelings. Heavens above, she’d been his patient today! He would have to hand her on to a colleague for further treatment.

He got out of the car in his driveway and looked out over the stunning sea view. He turned to watch the sun setting over the hill. He was alone, as he was meant to be for the rest of his life. To love a woman was to risk the bitter pain he’d felt when Maxine had been taken from him. He couldn’t risk that again. Not in one lifetime.

CHAPTER TWO

AS MICHEL DROVE his car down the hill above St Martin sur Mer he was feeling apprehensive. Even the glorious sea view couldn’t distract him from thinking about his work in Emergency today. It had been a month since he’d picked up Chantal from the beach and taken her back to the Hôpital de la Plage. He’d made sure he’d referred her to the orthopaedic ward the day after he’d treated her.

He swallowed hard as he changed into a lower gear. His reasons were obvious only to himself and his colleagues hadn’t questioned his decision Basically, they’d followed his advice on the treatment plan he’d recommended and Chantal had been an exemplary patient. Today was the first day she was going to work with him in Emergency for a full day, without the aid of her stick.

He’d been impressed with her absolute determination to cope with the work he’d given her during the last two weeks she’d spent in Emergency on light duties, always aided by her stick and always within reaching distance of a chair in case she became tired.

As he drove through the hospital gates he told himself to stop worrying about her. She was a feisty girl, dependable in any situation. Always cool and unflustered with whatever problems a patient posed. An absolute natural in their department. She’d be able to cope today when he’d scheduled her to work the whole day.

Switching off the engine in the car park, he managed to convince himself that she wasn’t his problem. He’d prescribed her treatment and the result was that she had a healthy, viable ankle that shouldn’t cause problems in the future. So he should stop thinking about her. There was work to be done and Chantal was just another colleague in his department … wasn’t she?

It was ironic that she was the first person he saw as he pushed open the swing doors into Emergency. He couldn’t help smiling at her. She looked so young and fresh and raring to go this morning. He had to remember not to treat her any differently from his other colleagues.

‘Ready to work all day?’

‘Of course! I’ve dealt with a couple of patients already. No problem.’

She covered the few steps between them, consciously walking correctly, as she’d practised with the physiotherapists; heel toe, heel toe.

‘Very good.’

She grinned, unable to stop feeling pleased with herself at his praise.

‘Oh, I’ve had only the best treatment, you know. And I was determined to get back to normal working life as soon as I possibly could.’

‘I know you were.’ He averted his gaze, which was full of admiration. As his phone rang ‘Well, then, let’s see what we’re landed with today,’ he said, getting out his smartphone to scroll through his messages. ‘Hold on a moment, Chantal. I may need your help immediately. I’m getting a message through about a car crash on the motorway.’

Even as he spoke the doors to Emergency swung open and a couple of porters with patients on trolleys followed each other inside. From outside the building came the sound of another ambulance arriving.

‘Dr Devine,’ the first porter called. ‘This woman is in pain and she won’t stop screaming. She’s completely hysterical. I can’t—’

‘Let me help you,’ Chantal said in a soothingly calm voice as she moved to meet the porter.

‘I’ll deal with the second patient,’ Michel said. ‘Contact me whenever you need me.’

Chantal had already directed the porter to take their patient into the nearest vacant cubicle and was leaning over her, trying to reassure her that she was safe. The screams had now turned to sobs as the patient clung to Chantal’s hand.

She was aware that Michel had just arrived and was taking his place at the other side of the trolley.

‘I’ve handed my patient to a colleague so I can get the general picture of where I’m needed most. I thought you might need some help here.’

He could see Chantal was having a soothing influence on the hysterical patient as she gently asked her name.

‘Josephine,’ the patient whispered now in between sobs. ‘I will be OK, won’t I?’

‘Yes, you will. I’m Dr Chantal Winstone and I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Now, tell me where it hurts Josephine. Let me …’

As Chantal began to pull back the blanket covering her patient she was immediately aware of her condition. She was a large lady but it wasn’t just due to obesity. She was definitely pregnant.

Chantal held back her own emotions, the feelings she’d had about pregnancy ever since she’d lost her own much-wanted baby sometimes overwhelming. It was only a fleeting memory of the horrors of her miscarriage that came to her. She was a doctor and should be totally dispassionate about any medical situation. When she was needed she had to deal with the case as expertly as possible.

She took a deep breath and for a split second her eyes met Michel’s. She mustn’t show her conflicting emotions in front of him. The patient always came first.

‘Josephine, when is your baby due?’ she asked quietly.

‘I don’t really know with this one, Doctor. This will be my fifth, you see, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t really had time to get to the doctor’s. I know I’ve missed a few periods but I’ve lost count and … Oh, help me …’

By the time the screaming started again Chantal had removed the blanket and was checking her patient’s abdomen. The contraction she could now feel was very strong. A swift examination of the birth canal showed her that the cervix was well dilated.

She glanced up at Michel. ‘Call Obstetrics to send a midwife. We can’t move our patient up to them at this late stage. And if you could bring me that gas and air apparatus over there by the door?’

Her full attention was back on her patient. ‘Breathe deeply, Josephine, deep breaths, breath through the pain. Thanks, Michel.’

She took the mask he’d prepared and fixed it over her patient’s face. ‘There we go, breathe through now, yes, that’s good, very good, keep going like that, Josephine.’

Michel found himself marvelling at how calm Chantal was through all this. No one else in the team who’d rescued their patient from her crashed car on the motorway had suspected she was pregnant. They were working fluidly together now. He’d moved to check on the dilation of the cervix.

‘The cervix is fully dilated now, Chantal. I can see the head. Don’t let Josephine push until the next contraction. I need to adjust the cord.’

‘Pant for the moment, Josephine, breathe short breaths. Excellent. Well done. I’ll tell you when you can push. Not yet. OK, now, push, bear down into your bottom, the baby’s head has made an appearance. Yes, a little rest for you now …’

She was watching for another signal from Michel. As their eyes met she saw the relief in his, he saw the enigmatic emotions that the baby’s delivery had set in motion. Yes, she was deeply involved, not just giving this delivery her all in terms of expertise and experience. She was deeply moved even though outwardly she remained calm and in control.

He wondered if she had an issue with childbirth. Had she had a bad experience somewhere in her own past? Whatever had happened to her, she was a joy to work with now. They dovetailed together as they worked well together.

Josephine was clinging to Chantal’s hand.

‘You’re doing fine, Josephine.’

Michel signalled for a final push. As the baby moved down the birth canal he took it into his hands and it began to cry lustily.

‘Here you are, Chantal.’

He was handing her the baby wrapped in a dressing sheet. As she took the baby from him he could see the tears in her eyes, the deep involvement she had with this birth, the tender way she held the precious bundle in her arms. For a moment their eyes met over the baby and Chantal let out a sigh of relief.

‘Thank God,’ she whispered huskily. ‘A live birth is always a miracle.’

For a moment she didn’t appear aware of her surroundings. Seconds later she cleared her throat and became totally professional again as very gently she handed the baby to her patient.

‘Here’s your daughter, Josephine.’

Now it was Josephine’s turn to shed tears of joy. ‘A daughter! After four boys she’s very welcome. I shall call her Chantal, Doctor. You’ve been so kind to me. I couldn’t have got through this without you.’

‘Oh, I think you could,’ Chantal said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue as she turned away from the joyful scene of mother and baby together.

Suddenly she was aware that Michel was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you OK, Chantal?’

‘I’m fine.’ she said firmly, turning to look up into his eyes. ‘It’s always an emotional experience when a baby is born, isn’t it?’

He was holding onto his own mixed emotions now. He had to get a grip on himself where Chantal was concerned. She disturbed him too much and at this moment he wasn’t sure why.

A midwife came into the cubicle. ‘I came as soon as I could but— Oh, I see I was too late. Sorry about that but we’re very busy in Obstetrics at the moment.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Chantal told her. ‘I’ll hand Josephine and her daughter over to you now. I haven’t done the postnatal checks yet. This is a fifth baby and Josephine was involved in a car crash earlier.’

‘I’ll leave you to it, Chantal,’ Michel said, as he heard her starting on the patient’s history with the midwife. ‘I’ll check on what’s happening to the other new patients. May I suggest you take a break before you work on your next patient?’

She glanced at him enquiringly. What was he implying?

‘It’s your first day back on full-time duties,’ he said, quietly before turning away and leaving the cubicle.

After filling the midwife in with Josephine’s details she left her patient and the new baby in her care. Josephine clung to her hand. ‘Do you have to leave me, Dr Chantal?’

‘I’m afraid so. But you’ll be well looked after when you’re taken to the postnatal ward.’

She bent down to say goodbye to the baby. The little rosebud mouth was moving as if acknowledging her. She could feel tears prickling behind her eyes as she swiftly became professional again and left the cubicle.

She’d taken Michel’s advice and had a short break in the staff coffee bar before she returned to report to him in Emergency. He strode across to meet her as she came in through the swing doors.

‘Everything OK? How’s the ankle?’

‘It’s bearing up very well, thank you. You seem to have everything under control here.’

‘Yes, we had six patients from the crash. The rest had been allocated to another hospital in this area. Josephine was one of the ones who was totally blameless apparently. So we won’t have the police coming in to interview her.’

‘Thank goodness for that. Josephine needs rest now to enjoy her new baby.’ She heard her voice crack with emotion as she spoke and hoped Michel hadn’t noticed.

Michel heard the emotional involvement expressed in Chantal’s voice and wondered once more what had happened to her before she’d joined the staff in February.

‘So you’re fit to work again now, are you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, there’s a young boy waiting to be seen in cubicle two. His mother is with him.’

‘Fine.’ Chantal turned away and went to check on her next patient. She found a small boy who’d just arrived after falling on his way to school. He was crying as he clung to his mother’s hand.

‘Be quiet, Albert. The doctor’s here now.’

Chantal looked down at her patient on the treatment table. He was shivering with shock. She spread a cosy lightweight blanket over him. He stopped shivering and looked up at her enquiringly with wide trusting blue eyes, deciding that this lady doctor was OK. Quite pretty, actually. Nice teeth when she smiled at him, which she was doing now.

Chantal glanced down at the notes that had just been given to her.

‘Albert, can you tell me what happened when you were walking to school?’

‘There was this dog, you see,’ he began tentatively.

Chantal smiled. ‘I see. Was it a big dog?’

‘Oh, it was enormous! But I’m not scared of dogs, am I, Mum?’

‘Not a big boy like you, Albert. Now, tell the nice lady doctor how you ran much too quickly when you chased the dog and tripped up on that kerbstone.’

‘So where did you hurt yourself when you fell?’

‘All down my leg.’ He pulled back the side of the blanket to reveal an improvised bandage of old cloths. ‘You should have seen the blood, Doctor.’

‘I can see the bloodstains peeping through the bandage, Albert. Who put the bandage on?’

‘The lady with the dog. She took me into her house and told me I was a naughty boy for chasing him.’

Chantal could see more tears threatening. ‘Mind if I have a look?’ She was already peeling off the cloths very carefully so that they wouldn’t pull on his skin. ‘Oh, yes, now I see the problem. Don’t worry, Albert, I’ll soon have that sorted.’

‘What are you going to do to me? You’re not going to chop it off, are you? My friend’s dad had to go into hospital to have his leg chopped off. He walks with crutches now. I don’t mind having crutches but I’d like to keep my leg on if you don’t mind. You see, I play football.’

She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m simply going to mend the cut that’s appeared in the skin. Can you feel this nice soothing liquid I’m painting all over the cut?’

‘What’s that for?’

‘That’s cleaning the wound and—’

‘Have I got a wound? Like a soldier?’

‘Yes, and you’re behaving like a brave little soldier for me. I’ve just put some painkiller on it so it won’t hurt much. Not that you’ll need it as you’re such a brave boy. How old are you, Albert?’

‘Five and a half,’ he said proudly.

‘You’re a big boy for your age.’

Then she fell silent as she focussed on the task in hand.

‘There, all done. I’ve put some stitches in so that—’

‘Stitches? How many?’

She solemnly counted them one by one.

‘Six.’ She was spraying the whole area of affected leg now.

‘Six? Wait till I get back to school and show everybody!’

‘Doctor, do you think I should keep him at home today?’ his mother asked anxiously.

Chantal replied that one day at home would be advisable to give the healing process a good start. She explained how to treat the little boy for the next ten days before his mother took him to see their family doctor who would arrange for the stitches to be taken out.

‘Oh, don’t they dissolve by themselves?’

‘Not this kind of stitches. Because the wound is quite wide and in an area of the leg that will get a lot of movement from an active boy like Albert, it’s advisable to put very strong stitches in.’

She pulled back the curtain of her cubicle as she said goodbye to her little patient and his mother. The cubicles were all being used now and further patients were being wheeled in on trolleys.

Better get a move on. Michel didn’t like to have too many patients who hadn’t been seen by a doctor.

She found herself busy all day with a seemingly endless stream of patients. There was no time to think about herself. She was glad she would be going off duty soon because her ankle was aching now. Actually, it had been aching for the past hour or so but she’d chosen to ignore it. It would be a sign of weakness if she sat down during working hours.

The evening staff were arriving and taking over the patients who were still waiting to be seen. She took the opportunity to go into the office to write her report. Settling herself in front of the computer with her right foot on a chair, she turned sideways and switched on the computer. It was a relief to take the weight off her ankle.

She typed on in her difficult position, listing the wide variety of cases she’d dealt with that day.

Before the crash patients from the motorway had arrived, her first patient had been the child with a frozen pea up his nose. Frozen when it had gone up, according to Dad, but decidedly squelchy and messy when she’d managed to pull it out with her smallest forceps. The blood that came with it was because of the various attempts that had been made to reach it with a variety of household instruments, including a spoon, before the young boy had been brought to Emergency as a last resort.

She’d assured the worried father that the bleeding was only shallow and would stop soon as long as the young patient promised not to pick his delicate little nose.

Following that, there had been the motorbike rider on the coastal road who’d crashed into the back of a car that had stopped suddenly. X-rays had shown a fractured tibia and fibula so she’d called in Orthopaedics to admit him to a ward before they operated on him. The operation had been successful.

‘So this is where you’re hiding?’

She recognised Michel’s voice behind her, lifted her ankle with both hands to support it and turned the desk chair round.

‘Don’t let me disturb you, Chantal. How does your ankle feel after a whole day on your feet? Tell me honestly. Don’t be brave about it.’

‘Well, it aches a bit now. It’s just because it’s tired.’

‘OK, that’s a warning sign to ease off. Come in after lunch tomorrow and just work the afternoon.’

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Are you sure, Michel? I don’t want my colleagues to think I’m getting preferential treatment.’

‘And why on earth would they think that?’

‘Well, I’ve had a lot of time off recently and …’ She felt flustered as she attempted an explanation. ‘You’re the boss. If you think it’s OK then I’d best take your advice.’

He put on a serious expression. ‘I’m absolutely certain. Easy does it.’

‘You’ve been so kind to me.’ She was merely stating the obvious while no one was around to hear her praising him. She just felt she’d had preferential treatment and had to be careful.

‘I’m just being an attentive doctor to a valuable colleague.’ His voice was husky. He cleared his throat, before continuing in a totally neutral voice without a hint of emotion, ‘You’re a very useful doctor in our department so we don’t want to mess up the treatment you’ve had at this stage.’

She felt another surge of gratitude. ‘I was wondering …’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m truly grateful for the way you’ve taken care of me since I sprained my ankle and I’m sorry for the way I was so grumpy when you found me lying in the sand.’

‘Oh, Chantal, you were suffering from shock. Completely understandable. You were in pain. It was perfectly natural for you to behave like that. Forget it.’

‘Well, I’ve been thinking.’

She paused as she reflected that she really had been thinking too much about this delicate situation. It had started while she’d had to spend a lot of time resting during the early part of her treatment. Now was the time to act before she lost her nerve.

‘I’d like to buy you supper one evening as a means of thanking you for all your help in getting me back on my feet’

He was staring at her now, seemingly lost for words. ‘Chantal, you don’t have to buy me supper.’

‘Oh, but I’d like to.’

She’d rehearsed this invitation so often, not knowing how he would take it. She hadn’t meant to deliver it in this awkward position, sitting sideways to the desk, holding her convalescent ankle with both hands. She must look so ungainly.

‘Of course I know you must be busy in the evenings so if—’

‘I’d like to take up your offer, Chantal. Thank you. What did you have in mind?’

He was smiling now, trying to lighten up. She’d caught him completely off guard. It had been the last thing he’d expected from her.

‘Well, I thought it would be fun to have supper at that old wooden beach café near the place where you rescued me from that killer stone. I used to be taken there for lunch after a morning on the beach at Club Mickey. It was before my father died, I remember.

‘Every August my cousin Julia and her brothers came over from England with their parents for a holiday and that was where we’d all meet up. It was such a treat. Our mothers—they’re twins—were always there. Our fathers were both English so the conversation over lunch switched from English to French all the time. It was such a happy time in my life.’

He noted the poignant hint of nostalgia in her voice before he spoke to reassure her of his interest in this kind invitation.

‘I’d enjoy going to the beach café, Chantal. Actually, I’ve never got around to visiting it. It looks a quaint sort of place.’

She smiled. ‘I’m not surprised you haven’t tried it yet. It looks very shabby now. The winter winds and rain mean it needs repainting every summer. They haven’t got around to that yet this year but it’s got its faithful clientele just the same.’

‘Will you make the booking or shall I?’

‘Oh, we don’t need to book. It’s first come first served. Just let me know when you’re free.’

‘How about tomorrow?’

She hid her surprise at his prompt reply. She’d expected him to defer his answer and then possibly forget about it. She wouldn’t have had the nerve to repeat her invitation.

‘Yes, that would be good. If I’m only working for the afternoon I won’t be tired.’

He nodded. ‘That was exactly what I was thinking. We’ll go straight there when we come off duty. Now, finish your report as soon as you can and go and rest that ankle on your bed with a pillow to elevate it. Be sure to call Housekeeping and order supper to be brought up to your room.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know that was possible.’

‘All things are possible for the medical staff of the Hôpital de la Plage.’

He was reaching across the desk for the internal phone. ‘This is Michel Devine. My colleague Dr Winstone will be resting in her room this evening. Could one of your staff take her a supper tray? Yes, about seven o’clock.’

He broke off to speak to Chantal. ‘Coq au vin, omelette, or salade Niçoise?’

‘Salade Niçoise, please.’

He relayed the message. ‘So I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Chantal. Now, do rest that ankle.’

He turned and moved towards the door to stop himself regretting his decision to have supper with Chantal. Closing the door after he’d passed through it, he leaned against it, breathing heavily.

‘You OK, Dr Devine?’

He hadn’t noticed a junior nurse coming along the corridor.

‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you, Nurse.’ He recovered quickly and smiled down at the young lady who was looking earnestly concerned about him.

He started walking in the other direction. Taking care of Chantal as a colleague posed no problems. But spending a whole evening with her in the romantic setting of the beach as the sun disappeared behind the hills? What was he thinking? It was the sort of situation he’d avoided since Maxine had died. OK he’d play it cool, very cool. No emotional involvement.

Two colleagues having supper together, discussing … well, whatever colleagues are supposed to discuss. Nothing remotely romantic. Books, theatre, cinema. That sort of thing should keep the evening going without too many gaps in the conversation. Ah, she’d lived and worked in Paris, hadn’t she? He could leave most of the talking to her.

Chantal could tell it was already morning before she even opened her eyes. She could hear the sound of footsteps hurrying down the corridor. Everybody was going on duty. But she had been ordered to rest.

She opened her eyes and looked at the travel clock on her bedside table. Eight o clock! She hadn’t set her alarm for once. No need for that this morning.

The phone rang. It was housekeeping asking if she would like breakfast. Dr Devine had left instructions for them to call. ‘Would you like a croissant?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘And a coffee with milk?’

‘Please’ She liked dipping her croissant in a large breakfast cup of milky coffee.

She got out of bed and went over to the window, pulling back the curtains. Wall-to-wall sunshine already. Well, it was almost summer. From her window she could see the main gate, the ambulances lined up for duty, one already speeding in from the seafront, making its way to Emergency where everybody would be hard at work by now. Including Michel. She swallowed hard as she thought of her embarrassing attempt to ask him out for supper yesterday evening. She’d been successful but she could tell he had only been polite with her. He would probably be relieved when it was all over. She couldn’t think why she’d set it up. Well, actually, she did have an idea but it was too complicated to analyse.

Was she testing herself to see if she really had changed into the ice maiden she tried to portray to the opposite sex? If that was her real reason for this date—if she could even call it that she’d have no problem sticking to the vows she’d made to herself last September. None whatsoever. Her emotions were completely surrounded by ice.

Someone was knocking on her door. She shrugged into her dressing gown and went to open it, taking the breakfast tray from the maid then climbing back into bed.

As she dipped her croissant in the coffee she reflected that her rendezvous with Michel this evening would be harmless as long as she remembered she’d arranged this meal together to thank a kind friend and colleague for all his help. That was the sole object of this evening out together.

‘Are you ready to go off duty, Chantal?’

The afternoon had flown by as she’d dealt with an influx of patients from a crash on the coastal road involving a coach and two cars. She was pulling back the curtains from her cubicle as her final patient was being taken away on a trolley to be admitted to Orthopaedics.

‘Have all the patients been seen, Michel?’

‘Treated, discharged, admitted and no fatalities. The evening staff have all arrived. I’ve even dealt with the police investigation and sent them on their way satisfied they’ve got all the medical details they need for their report. Excellent teamwork by everyone this afternoon, so let’s go!’

She wasn’t fooled by his bright and breezy attitude. He was as apprehensive as she was.

‘Give me ten minutes to clean myself up.’

‘Ten minutes? You look fine to me. OK. See you by the front entrance.’

She headed for the staff changing room to change into a pair of jeans and tee shirt, adding the white sweater she’d brought to tie around her neck in case it got chilly later on. Not that they were going to stay long enough for the evening chill to set in. A quick supper, a polite chat and they’d go their separate ways, wouldn’t they?

She glanced at her reflection. Mmm, not bad. A dash of lipstick and then she would be ready.

Michel was chatting to Sidonie by the main entrance and Chantal slowed her pace. Mustn’t seem too eager to be off.

Sidonie broke off the conversation. ‘Hi, Chantal. You look like you’re off out. Going anywhere nice?’

‘Off to the beach café for supper.’

‘Oh, that’s where you’re going Michel, isn’t it? Ah, so you’re going together? Keeping up the aftercare of your patient? Very commendable. Well, don’t let me keep you. Have fun but beware the killer of stones.’

Sidonie smiled at them as she moved away down the corridor.

Chantal was beginning to wish she’d never dreamed up this supper date. The entire medical staff would have heard about it by tomorrow morning.

‘So, shall we go?’

Michel was looking down at her, a wry grin on his face, probably knowing exactly what she was thinking but hoping he was covering up his apprehension better than she was.

CHAPTER THREE

CHANTAL WAS VERY pleased to see that the Café de la Plage was filling up with lots of happy people. She was glad to have got through a busy afternoon working in Emergency and was now ready for some leisure time. She noticed chattering families, a couple of small babies being rocked off to sleep in their pushchairs, one by a serene-looking, white-haired grandmother and the other by a harassed-looking young mother who was also coping with a lively, demanding toddler while Papa was completely engrossed in a dispute with the elder sister.

It was the sort of warm family atmosphere she remembered from when she had been brought in here as a small child by both her parents, before her father had died. She felt safe here, at home, relaxed—well, almost. There was still a nagging doubt at the back of her mind that she could have made a mistake, asking out the boss on the pretext—no, it hadn’t been a pretext! It had been a genuine desire to say thank you to a colleague, now a good friend, who’d been extremely helpful in her time of need.

What other possible reason could she have had? After the treatment she’d suffered at the hands of the duplicitous Jacques she didn’t trust any man, not even Michel, who was obviously still in love with his irreplaceable wife.

Michel was holding the back of her chair, politely intent on making sure she was comfortable. She hoped they would both relax a bit more when they settled into their table by the window. Their conversation as they had walked across the sand had seemed strained, contrived almost, as they’d talked about their work and barely glanced at the setting sun, which was low in the sky behind the hills, causing a pink blush over the clouds and strands of gold to weave in and out of the lovely scenery.

She’d had the urge to stop and admire it but hadn’t known whether Michel had time for such romantic elements in his busy life. His devotion to duty was legendary at the hospital. He seemed to live for his work and probably hadn’t got time for sunsets and sunrises.

She’d remarked on the sunset a couple of times but Michel had seemed to increase his pace and had appeared to be in a hurry to get the dutiful evening over and done with. Well, that’s what it seemed like to her and she was beginning to feel the same way herself now they were inside the café.

She’d arranged this outing so it was her responsibility to make sure it wasn’t too painful. She put on her dutiful-hostess smile as she looked across the table at Michel.

‘Always a good family atmosphere in here, don’t you think?’

‘Well, I can’t really judge because this is my first time here.’

Chantal decided to try again. ‘Of course. As I told you, it’s a favourite of mine from childhood.’

‘Chantal! My husband didn’t tell me you were here!’ A plump, rosy-cheeked lady was leaning over the table. ‘We haven’t had the pleasure of serving you in our restaurant this season. Are you still living in Paris?’

‘Ah, Florence. Lovely to see you again. Actually, I’ve left the Paris hospital. I’m a doctor in Emergency at the Hôpital de la Plage now.’

‘A doctor? It’s not possible that you’re all grown up now. Now, what can I get you and your charming companion?’

Michel extended his hand. ‘Michel Devine, Madame, a colleague of Chantal’s at the hospital.’

Chantal could see that Florence was much impressed by her handsome friend and colleague. He could be really charming when he put on that dazzling smile. Florence was handing out menus now and being extremely deferential to the important-looking doctor.

Decisions were made about what they would choose from the menu. Florence put a bottle of red wine on the table. ‘On the house,’ she informed them, before returning to her kitchen.

‘Cheers. Good health,’ Michel said, raising his glass towards Chantal.

They could relax now. Michel was beginning to actually look her in the eyes. He seemed to be studying her face now, as if it was the first time he’d ever really seen her. Well, it was the first time they’d been alone together in an off-duty situation and it felt very strange.

She sipped the wine. Mmm, the house wine was always good here and the first bottle was usually a gift to regular clients.

She looked around her. ‘The babies seem to be settling at last.’

Michel smiled. ‘I love the sound of families enjoying themselves.’ He paused, his voice husky. ‘Except it reminds me …’

He was looking down at the table now, tracing the pattern woven into the lace. She waited until he looked across at her a few seconds later. There was a sad expression on his face.

‘What does it remind you of?’ she prompted gently.

‘Oh, it’s not important. I was simply going to say …’

‘Here you two go, a small starter for you.’

Florence was placing a couple of plates in front of them. There was pâté garnished with a tomato salad and gherkins and a basket containing warm, freshly baked bread in the centre of the table.

Chantal made a mental note to ask Michel what he’d been going to say just now about the families enjoying supper together. It had appeared to have had a profound effect on him. But she wasn’t going to pursue that line of conversation at the moment. Not when she was feeling relaxed and could see Michel was enjoying himself at last.

He picked up the bottle and poured more wine into her glass. She knew she would have to slow down on the wine at some point. Still, they weren’t driving and if she stumbled on the sand, Michel could always carry her. She suppressed a giggle as she reached for more of the delicious bread to accompany the tasty pâté.

‘What’s so amusing?’

She laughed. ‘I was just reminding myself I’ve got to walk over the sand near where I sprained my ankle so I’d better go easy on the wine.’

He laughed with her. ‘No problem. We coped last time, didn’t we?’

‘There won’t be a repeat tonight, I assure you,’ she said firmly, biting into a gherkin.

Florence took away their starter plates and placed a steaming tureen of asparagus soup on the table.

By the time the main course was served Chantal’s initial hunger was feeling deliciously appeased. They were both eating the roast-chicken dish much more slowly, talking more across the table, and the wine seemed to be disappearing very quickly. This was definitely a fun evening at last. The ice had been well and truly broken.

They had started discussing the theatres in Paris, shows they’d seen, music that pleased or displeased them. All the worthwhile frills of life that got pushed into the background when they filled their days with work, however important it was.

‘Yes, I do find I have to make time for leisure pursuits when I’m living away from Paris,’ Chantal said. ‘I love the countryside and the sea but sometimes I long to go out to the theatre.’

‘There’s a very good theatre in Le Touquet. I must take you there one evening.’

‘I’d like that.’ She would, she really would. Going to the theatre was something that good friends and colleagues could enjoy together without it meaning any commitment on either side.

Florence’s husband, Giles, who was now waiting on the tables while Florence concentrated on the cooking, paused beside their table to remove the empty bottle and bring back a new one. Michel was now chatting amicably with Giles about wine. It transpired that Giles’s brother had a vineyard near Bordeaux so supplies of good wine were easy to come by.

Chantal could feel herself warming more and more towards Michel. She was seeing sides of his character she’d never seen before. Asking him to come out for supper tonight had been a good idea after all. And whatever her motives might have been, she was enjoying herself, delighted that she was getting to know the real man behind the work-obsessed Michel.

The restaurant was now completely full and people were queuing outside. They’d finished their delicious dessert of raspberry tart when Florence asked if they would like to have their coffee served on the veranda.

Michel said that was an excellent idea. It was one of those splendid early summer evenings that were made to be enjoyed in the fresh air.

Michel chose a secluded table in the corner of the veranda, overlooking the sea. The gentle sound of the waves was so romantic, just the sort of evening for a stroll along the beach, hand in hand with someone close to you. That wouldn’t happen with herself and Michel. It was obvious that even though they were enjoying themselves they were both carrying too much baggage from the past.

She took a sip from her coffee cup, her eyes on the man opposite her. His enigmatic expression was giving nothing away. Placing her delicate china cup carefully back on the saucer, she tentatively asked Michel what he’d been going to say when they had first arrived. ‘You said this place reminded you of something.’

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