Dear Reader

I couldn’t help wondering what it must be like to lose your memory and not know anyone around you. How would it be to forget the people you once loved—even perhaps someone you’d hoped you might one day marry?

How would that feel—for both people involved? And would that love stand the test of time? Maybe it’s possible—but what if something has gone terribly wrong? Something that is now forgotten?

These were the emotions I wanted to explore when I wrote about Saffi and Matt.

Saffi faces a huge challenge after she is hurt in an accident, but fortunately Matt is there to lend a helping hand as she recovers. Will they manage to find their way to true love when there are so many pitfalls along the way?

I hope you enjoy reading their story.

With love

Joanna

A Doctor to Remember
Joanna Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SO, HERE SHE was at last. Saffi stretched her limbs and walked across the grass to the clifftop railing, where she stood and looked out over the bay. After several hours on the coach, it was good to be out in the fresh air once more.

From here she could see the quay, where fishermen stacked their lobster pots and tended their nets, and for a while she watched the brightly coloured pleasure boats and fishing craft as they tossed gently on the water. Seagulls flew overhead, calling to one another as they soared and dived in search of tasty tidbits.

In the distance, whitewashed cottages nestled amongst the tree-clad hills, where crooked paths twisted and turned on their way down to the harbour. This little corner of Devon looked idyllic. It was so peaceful, so perfect.

If only she could absorb some of that tranquillity. After all, wasn’t that why she was here, the reason she had decided to leave everything behind, everything that had represented safety and security in her life— even though in the end that security had turned out to be something of a sham?

A small shiver of panic ran through her. Was she doing the right thing? How could she know what lay ahead? Had she made a big mistake in coming here?

She pulled in a shaky breath, filling her lungs with sea air, and then let it out again slowly, trying to calm herself. She’d been living in Hampshire for the last few years, but this place ought to be familiar to her, or so she’d been told, and it was, in a way, in odd fragments of memory that drifted through her brain, lingered for a moment, and then dissolved in mist as quickly as they’d come.

‘Perhaps it’s what you need,’ her solicitor had said, shuffling the freshly signed papers into a neat bundle and sliding them into a tray on his desk. ‘It might do you some good to go back to the place where you spent your childhood. You could at least give it a try.’

‘Yes, maybe you’re right.’

Now the warm breeze stirred, gently lifting her honey-gold hair and she turned her face towards the sun and felt its caress on her bare arms. Maybe its heat would somehow manage to thaw the chill that had settled around her heart these last few months.

A lone seagull wandered close by, pecking desultorily in the grass, searching for anything edible among the red fescue and the delicate white sea campion. He kept an eye on her, half cautious, half hopeful.

She smiled. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any food for you,’ she said softly. ‘Come to think of it, I haven’t actually had anything myself since breakfast.’ That seemed an awfully long time ago now, but she’d been thinking so hard about what lay ahead that everything else, even food, had gone from her mind. Not that forgetfulness was unusual for her these days.

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she told the bird. ‘I should go and find some lunch. Perhaps if you stop by here another day I might have something for you.’

She felt brighter in herself all at once. Coming here had been a big decision for her to make, but it was done. She was here now, and maybe she could look on this as a new beginning.

She moved away from the railing, and glanced around. Her solicitor had made arrangements for her to be met at the Seafarer Inn, which was just across the road from here. It was an attractive-looking building, with lots of polished mahogany timbers decorating the ground-floor frontage and white-painted rendering higher up. There were window-boxes filled with crimson geraniums and trailing surfinias in shades of pink and cream, and in front, on the pavement, there were chalkboards advertising some of the meals that were on offer.

There was still more than half an hour left before her transport should arrive, plenty of time for her to get some lunch and try to gather her thoughts.

She chose a table by a window, and went over to the bar to place her order. ‘I’m expecting a Mr Flynn to meet me here in a while,’ she told the landlord, a cheerful, friendly man, who was busy polishing glasses with a clean towel. ‘Would you mind sending him over to me if he asks?’

‘I’ll see to it, love. Enjoy your meal.’

‘Thanks.’

The solicitor had told her Mr Flynn had been acting as caretaker for the property these last few months. ‘He’ll give you the keys and show you around. I think he’s probably a semi-retired gentleman who’s glad to help out. He seems very nice, anyway. When I wrote and told him you don’t drive at the moment he offered to come and pick you up.’

So now all she had to do was wait. There was a fluttery feeling in her stomach, but she went back to her table and sat down. she felt conspicuous at first, being here in a bar full of strangers, but now that she was tucked away in the corner she felt much more comfortable, knowing that she was partially shielded by a mahogany lattice.

For her meal, she’d chosen a jacket potato with cheese and a side salad, and she had only just started to eat when a shadow fell across her table. She quickly laid down her fork and looked up to see a man standing there.

Her eyes widened. Was this Mr Flynn? He wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting, and her insides made a funny kind of flip-over in response.

Her first impression was that he was in his early thirties, tall, around six feet, and good looking, with strong, angular features and a crop of short, jet-black hair. He was definitely no elderly caretaker, and seeing such a virile young man standing there came as a bit of a shock.

He, in turn, was studying her thoughtfully, a half smile playing around his mouth, but as his dark grey glance met hers it occurred to her that there was a faintly guarded look about him.

‘Saffi?’

‘Yes.’ She gave him a fleeting smile. ‘You must be… You’re not quite what I expected…um, you must be Mr Flynn…?’

He frowned, giving her a wary, puzzled glance. ‘That’s right. Matt Flynn.’ There was an odd expression around his eyes and in the slight twist to his mouth as he watched her. He waited a few seconds and then, when she stayed silent, he seemed to brace his shoulders and said in a more businesslike fashion, ‘Your solicitor wrote to me. He said you wanted to look over the Moorcroft property.’

‘I…Yes, that’s right…’ She hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself. ‘I was hoping I…um…’ She glanced unseeingly at the food on her plate. ‘I…uh…’ She looked up at him once more. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Do you want to leave right away?’

He shook his head. ‘No, of course not—not at all. I’m early—go on with your meal, please.’ He seemed perplexed, as though he was weighing things up in his mind, but she couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head. Something was obviously bothering him.

‘Actually,’ he said, after a moment or two, ‘I’m quite hungry myself. Do you mind if I join you?’ He smiled properly then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, his mouth making a crooked shape. ‘The food here’s very good. The smell of it’s tantalising as soon as you walk in the door.’

‘Yes, it is.’ She began to relax a little and waved him towards a chair. ‘Please…have a seat.’

‘Okay. I’ll just go and order, and be back with you in a minute or two.’

Saffi nodded and watched him as he walked to the bar. His long legs were clad in denim and he was wearing a T-shirt that clung to his chest and emphasised his muscular arms and broad shoulders, causing an unbidden quiver of awareness to clutch at her stomach. Her heart was thudding heavily.

It was strange, acknowledging that she could have such feelings. For so long now it had seemed she’d been going through life on autopilot, stumbling about, trying to cope, and feeling her way through a maze of alien situations. She didn’t know where men fitted into all that.

He came back to the table and sat down opposite her, placing a half-pint glass of lager on the table. He studied her thoughtfully. ‘Your solicitor said you’ve been mulling over your options concerning Jasmine Cottage. Are you planning on staying there for a while?’ He looked around. ‘Only I don’t see any luggage, except for a holdall.’

‘No, that’s right, I’m having it sent on. I thought it would be easier that way. There’s quite a lot of stuff—I’ll be staying for a while until I make up my mind what to do…whether to sell up or stay on.’

‘Uh-huh.’ There was a note of curiosity in his voice as he said, ‘I suppose it would have been easier for you if you had a car, but your solicitor said you sold it a few weeks ago?’

‘I…Yes. I was…I…’ She faltered momentarily. ‘It was involved in a rear-end collision and I had it repaired and decided I didn’t need a car any more. I lived quite near to the hospital where I worked.’

It was a fair enough excuse, and she didn’t want to go into the reasons why she had suddenly lost her confidence behind the wheel. All sorts of daily activities had become a challenge for her in the last few months.

‘Ah, I see…at least, I think I do.’ He gave her a long, considering look. ‘Are you worried about driving for some reason?’

He hadn’t believed her lame excuse. She winced. ‘Perhaps. a bit. Maybe.’ She hoped he wasn’t going to ask her any more about it.

He sat back for a moment as the waitress brought his meal, a succulent gammon steak and fries. He was quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts, as though he was troubled by something. Whatever it was, he appeared to cast it aside when the girl had left and said, ‘Are you planning on working at a hospital here in Devon?’ He sliced into the gammon with his knife.

She shook her head. ‘No, at least, not right away. I’m going to take a break for a while.’

It still bothered her that she had to say that, and as she lifted her iced drink to her lips she was dismayed to see that her hand shook a little. She put the glass down and took a deep breath, hoping that he hadn’t noticed. ‘What about you…what do you do? I’m guessing you’re not a semi-retired caretaker, as my solicitor suggested.’

A variety of conflicting emotions crossed his face and Saffi gazed at him uncertainly. He seemed taken aback, somehow, by her question.

His dark brows lifted and his mouth made an ironic twist. After a moment, he said, ‘No, actually, caretaking is just a minor part of my week. I’m an A and E doctor, and when I’m not on duty at the hospital I’m on call as a BASICS physician, weekends and evenings mostly.’

Her eyes grew large. ‘Oh, I see. We have something in common, then, working in emergency medicine.’

Being a BASICS doctor meant he worked in Immediate Care, as someone who would attend injured people at the roadside, or wherever they happened to be. These doctors usually worked on a voluntary basis, so it was up to the individual doctor if they wanted to take a call.

‘Yes, we do.’ He nodded, and then looked her over once more, a sober expression on his face. He seemed…resigned almost. ‘You don’t remember me at all, do you?’

Saffi’s jaw dropped in consternation. ‘Remember you? Should I?’ No wonder his manner had seemed so strange. Her stomach was leaden. So much for a new beginning. Even here it seemed she had come face to face with her vulnerabilities. ‘Have we met before?’

‘Oh, yes. We have.’ He said it in a confident, firm voice and she floundered for a second or two, thrown on to the back foot. Of course there would be people here she had known in the past.

‘I’m sorry.’ She sent him a worried glance. ‘Perhaps it was some time ago?’ She was desperately hoping that his answer would smooth away any awful gaffe on her part.

‘We worked together at a hospital in London.’

‘Oh.’ Anxiety washed over her. ‘Perhaps you were working in a different specialty to me?’

He nodded. ‘That’s true, I was working in the trauma unit. But I definitely remember you. How could I forget?’ His glance moved over her face, taking in the soft blush of her cheeks and the shining hair that fell in a mass of soft curls around her face. His eyes darkened as though he was working through some unresolved torment.

She exhaled slowly, only then realising that she’d been holding her breath. ‘What were the chances that we would run into each other again here in Devon?’ she said, trying to make light of things, but she looked at him with troubled blue eyes.

‘I guess it was bound to happen some time. After all, we both knew your aunt, didn’t we? That’s another thing we have in common, isn’t it?’

She hesitated. ‘Is it? I…I don’t know,’ she said at last on a brief sigh. He’d taken the trouble to come here, and said they knew one another—perhaps she owed him some kind of explanation.

‘The thing is, Matt, something happened to me a few months ago…there was an accident, and I ended up with a head injury. I don’t remember exactly what went on, only that I woke up in hospital and everything that had gone before was a blank.’

He made a sharp intake of breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head as though he was trying to come to terms with what she had told him. ‘Your solicitor mentioned you had some problems with your memory, but I’d no idea it was so profound.’ He reached for her, cupping his hand over hers. ‘What kind of accident was it? Don’t you remember anything at all?’

‘Not much.’ His hand was warm and comforting, enveloping hers. He was a complete stranger to her, and yet she took heart from that instinctive, compassionate action.

‘They told me I must have fallen down the stairs and banged my head. I shared a house with another girl—my flat was on the upper floor—and apparently my friend found me when she came home at the end of her shift at the hospital. She called for an ambulance, and they whisked me away to Accident and Emergency.’

She went over the events in her mind. ‘It turned out I had a fractured skull. The emergency team looked after me, and after that it was just a question of waiting for the brain swelling to go down, so that they could assess the amount of neurological damage I had been left with. I was lucky, in a way, because there’s been no lasting physical harm—nothing that you can see.’ She gave a brief smile. ‘Except for my hair, of course. It used to be long and shoulder length, but they had to shave part of my head.’

‘Your hair looks lovely. It suits you like that.’

‘Thank you.’ She moved restlessly, and he released her so that she was free to take another sip of her cold drink. Her throat was dry, aching. ‘I remember bits and pieces. Some things come back to me every now and again, and I manage to keep hold of them. Other memories seem to float around for a while and then disappear before I can picture them clearly.’

‘I’m so sorry, Saffi. I can’t imagine what that must be like.’ His grey eyes were sombre and sympathetic. ‘You must be taking a leap in the dark, coming here, away from everything you’ve known for the last few years. Or perhaps you remember Devon, and Jasmine Cottage?’

She frowned. ‘No. I don’t think so. Some of it, perhaps.’ Her lips flattened briefly. ‘I’m hoping it’ll all come back to me when I get to the house.’

He nodded. ‘I was really sorry when your aunt died. She was a lovely woman.’

‘Yes.’ She said it cautiously, unwilling to admit that she couldn’t remember very much about the woman who had left her this property in a picturesque village situated near the Devon coast. Everyone told her they’d been very close, but the sad truth was she simply had no clear recollection of her benefactor. It seemed wrong to come here to take up an inheritance in those awful circumstances, but all those who knew her back in Hampshire had persuaded her it was the right thing to do. Only time would tell.

‘Apparently she died before I had my accident, and I’d been to her funeral. All this business with the property had to be put to one side while I was recovering in hospital.’ She glanced at him. ‘Had you known my aunt for a long time?’ She was suddenly keen to know how he was connected to her relative, and how he came to be caretaking the property.

He appeared to hesitate before answering and she wondered if this was something she ought to have known, some part of the way they’d known one another. ‘We met a few years back, but then I went to work with the air ambulance in Wales, so I didn’t see much of her until I came to work in Devon last summer. After that, she called on me from time to time to help fix things about the place.’

‘I’m glad she had someone. Thanks for that.’ She smiled at him, and made light conversation with him while they finished their meals. Her emotions were in a precarious state and she didn’t want to enquire right then into how she’d known Matt in the past. Perhaps he understood that, or maybe he had his own reasons for not bringing it up. He seemed concerned, and clearly he had been thrown off balance by her loss of memory.

They left the inn together a short time later and went to his car, a fairly new rapid-response vehicle equipped with a blue light, high-visibility strips and badges.

He held open the passenger door for her and she slipped into the seat. The smell of luxurious soft leather greeted her, and she sat back and tried to relax.

Matt set the car in motion and started along the coast road, cruising at a moderate pace so she had the chance to take in the scenery on the way.

She gazed out of the window, watching the harbour slowly recede, and in a while they left the blue sweep of the bay behind them as he drove inland towards the hills. The landscape changed to rolling green vistas interspersed with narrow lanes lined with clusters of pretty cottages decorated with hanging baskets full of bright flowers.

He sent her a quick, sideways glance. ‘Is this meant to be a kind of holiday for you—a chance to recover from everything that has happened? Or are you more concerned with sorting out your aunt’s estate?’

‘I suppose it’s a bit of both, really. I was beginning to feel that I needed a break, a change of scenery at least, and although it was a sad thing that my aunt passed on, it gave me an opportunity to get away. I…’ She hesitated momentarily, then went on, ‘There’s no one else left in my family, so it’s down to me to sort out what’s to be done with the property.’

Perhaps she’d managed to come to terms with all that before the accident, but since then she’d felt her isolation keenly. Being unable to remember people around her meant that she was cut off from all that was familiar, and it left her with an acute sense of loneliness.

‘And do you think you’ll manage all right?’ he said, cutting in on her thoughts. ‘If you’re not working, I mean?’ He saw her hesitation and pulled a wry face. ‘Am I overstepping the mark? You’ll have to let me know if I do that—I’m afraid I tend to get carried away and say what’s on my mind. ‘

She shook her head. ‘That’s all right. I appreciate you being open with me.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not sure how I’d handle going back to medicine just yet. But I have enough money to keep me going for now, until I find my feet. After my parents died some years ago, it seems that I sold the property and invested what they left me. So at least I don’t have any worries on that score.’

‘Perhaps that’s just as well. It looks as though you have more than enough on your plate right now.’

He concentrated on the road for a while as he negotiated a series of bends, and then, after following a winding country lane for about half a mile, Saffi suddenly became aware of an isolated farmhouse coming into view. It was set back from the road amidst fields, a little gem in the surrounding greenery.

‘That’s the house, isn’t it?’ she said, excitement growing inside her as they drew closer. It was a long, rambling property, with a couple of side-on extensions that had been added to the main house over the years, giving it three different roof elevations. It was pleasing on the eye, with the traditional white rendering throughout and slate roofs over all. The window-frames were mahogany, as was the front door. A trailing jasmine shrub sprawled over the entrance wall, its bright, yellow flowers making a beautiful contrast to the dark evergreen leaves.

‘Do you remember it?’

‘No. But my solicitor showed me a photograph. It’s lovely, isn’t it?’

He nodded, and parked the car on the drive. ‘Here, you’ll need the keys.’

‘Thank you.’ She stood for a moment or two, gazing at the house, and then she slowly walked up to the front door. The scent of jasmine filled the air, sweetly sensuous, instantly calming. Saffi breathed it in and suddenly she was overwhelmed as her mind captured the image of a dear, slender woman, a nurturing, gentle soul.

‘Oh…Annie…Annie…’

Her eyes filled with tears, the breath caught in her throat, and she heard Matt saying urgently, ‘What is it, Saffi? What’s wrong? Have you remembered something?’

She was shaking. ‘My aunt…it was just as though she was here…I could feel her…But she’s gone, and I don’t think I can bear it…’

He hesitated momentarily, and then wrapped his arms around her. ‘It’s all right, Saffi. I know it’s hard, but it’s good that you remember her.’

She didn’t move for several minutes, overtaken by grief, but secure in his embrace, glad of the fact that he was holding her, because but for that she might have fallen. Her legs were giving way as emotion wreaked havoc with her body, leaving her fragile, helpless.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said after a while, ashamed of her weakness and brushing away her tears with her fingers. ‘The memory of her just came flooding back. I wasn’t expecting it.’

‘Do you remember anything else?’ he asked cautiously. ‘About the house, your work…your friends?’ He was looking at her intently, and perhaps he was asking if she had begun to remember anything at all about him and the way they’d known one another.

She shook her head. ‘All I know is that I was happy here. I felt safe. This is home.’

He let out a long breath, and then straightened up, as though in that moment he’d come to some sort of decision. ‘Well, that’s good. That’s a start.’ He didn’t add anything more, didn’t try to tell her about the past, or give any hint as to what their relationship might have been. Instead, he seemed to make an effort to pull himself together, reluctantly releasing her when she felt ready to turn back towards the door.

‘I should go in,’ she said.

‘Do you want me to go in with you? You might still be a bit shaky…and perhaps I ought to show you around and explain what needs to be done with the animals. I mean, I can look after them till you find your feet, but maybe you’ll want to take over at some point.’

She stared at him. ‘Animals?’

‘You don’t know about them?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s news to me.’ She frowned. ‘You’re right. Perhaps you’d better come in and explain things to me.’

They went into the house, and Saffi walked slowly along the hallway, waiting in vain for more memories to come back to her. Matt showed her into the kitchen and she looked around, pleased with the homely yet modern look of the room. The units were cream coloured and there were open shelves and glass-fronted cabinets on the walls. A smart black cooker was fitted into the newly painted fireplace recess, and an oak table stood in the centre of the room.

‘I bought some food for you and stocked the refrigerator when I heard you were coming over here,’ Matt said. ‘Your solicitor said you might need time to settle in before you started to get organised.’

She smiled. ‘Thanks. That was thoughtful of you.’ She checked the fridge and some of the cupboards and chuckled. ‘This is better stocked than my kitchen back in Hampshire. We were always running out of stuff over there these last few months. I had to write notes to remind myself to shop, because my flatmate was worse than me at organisation.’

‘I can see I’ll need to keep an eye on you,’ he murmured. ‘We can’t have you wasting away.’ His glance ran over her and a flush of heat swept along her cheekbones. She was wearing jeans that moulded themselves to her hips and a camisole top that outlined her feminine curves, and she suddenly felt self-conscious under that scorching gaze.

‘I…uh…I’ll show you the rest of the house if you like,’ he said, walking towards a door at the side of the room. ‘Unless it’s all coming back to you?’

She shook her head. ‘It isn’t, I’m afraid.’ She followed him into the dining room, where the furniture followed the design of the kitchen. There was a cream wood Welsh dresser displaying patterned plates, cups and saucers, and a matching table and upholstered chairs.

‘The sitting room’s through here,’ Matt said, leading the way into a sunlit room where wide patio doors led on to a paved terrace.

She glanced around. It was a lovely room, with accents of warm colour and a sofa that looked soft and comfortable.

‘I think you’ll find it’s cosy of an evening with the log-burning stove,’ he murmured.

‘Yes.’ She had a fleeting image of a woman adding logs to the stove, and a lump formed in her throat.

‘Are you okay?’

She nodded. ‘I guess I’ll need a plentiful supply of wood, then,’ she said, getting a grip on herself. ‘Where did my aunt get her logs from, do you know?’

‘There’s a copse on the land—your land. It should supply plenty of fuel for some time to come, but your aunt did a lot of replanting. Anyway, I’ve filled up the log store for you, so you won’t need to worry about that for quite a while.’

‘It sounds as though I owe you an awful lot,’ she said with a frown. ‘What with the groceries, the wood and…you mentioned there were animals. I don’t think I’ve ever had any experience looking after pets—none that I recall, anyway.’ Yet no dog or cat had come running to greet them when they’d first entered the house. It was very puzzling.

‘Ah…yes. We’ll do a quick tour upstairs and then I’ll take you to see them.’

There were two bedrooms upstairs, one with an en suite bathroom, and along the corridor was the main bathroom. Saffi couldn’t quite work out the layout up here. There were fewer rooms than she’d expected, as though something was missing, but perhaps her senses were off somehow.

‘Okay, shall we go and solve the mystery of these pets?’ she murmured. Maybe her aunt had a small aviary outside. She’d heard quite a bit of birdsong when they’d arrived, but there were a good many trees around the house that would have accounted for that.

They went outside to the garden, and Saffi caught her breath as she looked out at the extent of her property. It wasn’t just a garden, there was also a paddock and a stable block nearby.

‘Oh, no. Tell me it’s not horses,’ she pleaded. ‘I don’t know anything about looking after them.’

‘Just a couple.’ He saw her look of dismay and relented. ‘No, actually, Annie mainly used the stable block as a store for the fruit harvest.’

She breathed a small sigh of relief.

Fruit harvest, he’d said. Saffi made a mental note of that. On the south side of the garden she’d noticed an archway in a stone wall, and something flickered in her faulty memory banks. Could it be a walled garden? From somewhere in the depths of her mind she recalled images of fruit trees and glasshouses with grapes, melons and peaches.

They walked by the stable block and came to a fenced-off area that contained a hen hut complete with a large covered wire run. Half a dozen hens wandered about in there , pecking the ground for morsels of food.

‘Oh, my…’ Saffi’s eyes widened. ‘Was there anything else my aunt was into? Anything I should know about? I mean, should I ever want to go back to medicine, I don’t know how I’ll find the time to fit it in, what with fruit picking, egg gathering and keeping track of this huge garden.’

He laughed. ‘She was quite keen on beekeeping. There are three hives in the walled garden.’

Saffi rolled her eyes. ‘Maybe I should turn around right now and head back for Hampshire.’

‘I don’t think so. I hope you won’t do that.’ He gave her a long look. ‘I don’t see you as a quitter. Anyway, it’s not that difficult. I’ll show you. Let’s go and make a start with the hens.’

He led the way to the coop. ‘I let them out in the morning,’ he explained. ‘They have food pellets in feeders, as well as water, but in the afternoon or early evening, whenever I finish work, I give them a mix of corn and split peas. There’s some oyster shell and grit mixed in with it, so it’s really good for them.’ He went over to a wooden store shed and brought out a bucket filled with corn. ‘Do you want to sprinkle some on the ground for them?’

‘Uh…okay.’ This had all come as a bit of a jolt to her. Instead of the peace and quiet she’d been expecting, the chance to relax and get herself back together again after the trauma of the last few months, it was beginning to look as though her days would be filled with stuff she’d never done before.

She went into the covered run, leaving Matt to shut the door and prevent any attempted escapes. An immediate silence fell as the birds took in her presence.

‘Here you go,’ she said, scattering the corn around her, and within seconds she found herself surrounded by hens. Some even clambered over her feet to get to the grain. Gingerly, she took a step forward, but they ignored her and simply went on eating. She shot Matt a quick look of consternation and he grinned.

‘Problem?’ he asked, and she pulled a face.

‘What do I do now?’

He walked towards her and grasped her hand. ‘You just have to force your way through. Remember, you’re the one in charge here, not the hens.’

‘Hmm, if you say so.’

He was smiling as he pulled her out of the run and shut the door behind them. ‘They need to be back into the coop by nightfall. As long as their routine isn’t disturbed, things should go smoothly enough. They’re laying very well at the moment, so you’ll have a good supply of eggs.’

‘Oh, well, that’s a plus, I suppose.’

He sent her an amused glance. ‘That’s good. At least you’re beginning to look on the positive side.’

She gritted her teeth but stayed silent. Now he was patronising her. Her head was starting to ache, a throbbing beat pounding at her temples.

‘And the beehives?’ she asked. ‘What’s to be done with them?’

‘Not much, at this time of year. You just keep an eye on them to make sure everything’s all right and let them get on with making honey. Harvesting is done round about the end of August, beginning of September.’

‘You make it sound so easy. I guess I’ll have to find myself a book on beekeeping.’

‘I think Annie had several of those around the place.’

They made their way back to the house, and Saffi said quietly, ‘I should thank you for everything you’ve done here since my aunt died. I’d no idea the caretaking was so involved. You’ve managed to keep this place going, and I’m very grateful to you for that.’

‘Well, I suppose I had a vested interest.’ She frowned. ‘You did?’

He nodded. ‘Your aunt made me a beneficiary of her will. Didn’t your solicitor tell you about it?’

She stared at him. ‘No. At least, I don’t think so.’ She searched her mind for details of her conversations with the solicitor. There had been several over the last few weeks, and maybe he’d mentioned something about another beneficiary. She’d assumed he meant there was a small bequest to a friend or neighbour.

The throbbing in her temple was clouding her thinking. ‘He said he didn’t want to bother me with all the details because of my problems since the accident.’

He looked at her quizzically and she added briefly, ‘Headaches and so on. I had a short attention span for a while, and I can be a bit forgetful at times…but I’m much better now. I feel as though I’m on the mend.’

‘I’m sure you are. You seem fairly clear-headed to me.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’ She studied him. ‘So, what exactly did you inherit…a sum of money, a share in the proceeds from the livestock…the tools in the garden store?’ She said it in a light-hearted manner, but it puzzled her as to what her aunt could have left him.

‘Uh…it was a bit more than that, actually.’ He looked a trifle uneasy, and perhaps that was because he’d assumed she’d known all about it in advance. But then he seemed to throw off any doubts he might have had and said briskly, ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’

He went to the end extension of the property and unlocked a separate front door, standing back and waving her inside.

Saffi stared about her in a daze. ‘But this is…I didn’t notice this before…’ She was completely taken aback by this new discovery. She was standing in a beautifully furnished living room, and through an archway she glimpsed what looked like a kitchen-diner, fitted out with golden oak units.

‘Originally, the house was one large, complete family home, but your aunt had some alterations made,’ he said. ‘There’s a connecting door to your part of the house and another upstairs. They’re locked, so we’ll be completely separate—you’ll have a key amongst those I gave you.’

She looked at the connecting door, set unobtrusively into an alcove in the living room.

‘I’ll show you the rest of the house,’ he said, indicating an open staircase in the corner of the room.

She followed him up the stairs, her mind reeling under this new, stunning revelation. No wonder she’d thought there was something missing from the upper floor when he’d taken her to look around. The missing portion was right here, in the form of a good-sized bedroom and bathroom.

‘You’re very quiet,’ he murmured.

‘I’m trying to work out how this came about,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘You’re telling me that my aunt left this part of the house to you?’

‘She did. I’d no idea that she had written it into her will or that she planned to do it. She didn’t mention it to me. Does it bother you?’

‘I think it does, yes.’

It wasn’t that she wanted it for herself. Heaven forbid, she hadn’t even remembered this house existed until her solicitor had brought it to her attention. But her aunt couldn’t have known this man very long—by his own account he’d only been in the area for a few months. And yet she’d left him a sizeable property. How had that come about?

All at once she needed to be on her own so that she could think things through. ‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I think I need time to take this in. But…thanks for showing me around.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He went with her down the stairs. ‘Any time you need me, Saffi, I’ll be here.’

She nodded. That was certainly true. His presence gave a new meaning to the words ‘next-door neighbour’.

She’d come here expecting to find herself in a rural hideout, well away from anyone and anything, so that she might finally recuperate from the devastating head injury that had left her without any knowledge of family or friends. And none of it was turning out as she’d hoped.

Matt had seemed such a charming, likeable man, but wasn’t that the way of all confidence tricksters? How could she know what to think?

Her instincts had been all over the place since the accident, and perhaps she was letting that trauma sour her judgement. Ever since she’d woken up in hospital she’d had the niggling suspicion that all was not as it seemed as far as her fall was concerned.

She’d done what she could to put that behind her, but now the question was, could she put her trust in Matt, who seemed so obliging? What could have convinced her aunt to leave him such a substantial inheritance?

CHAPTER TWO

SAFFI FINISHED WEEDING the last of the flower borders in the walled garden and leaned back on her heels to survey her handiwork. It was a beautiful garden, filled with colour and sweet scents, just perfect for the bees that flew from flower to flower, gathering nectar and pollen. Against the wall, the pale pink of the hollyhocks was a lovely contrast to the deep rose colour of the flamboyant peonies. Close by, tall delphiniums matched the deep blue of the sky.

‘You’ve been keeping busy, from the looks of things,’ Matt commented, startling her as he appeared in the archway that separated this part of the garden from the larger, more general area. ‘You’ve done a good job here.’

She lifted her head to look at him, causing her loosely pinned curls to quiver with the movement. He started to walk towards her, and straight away her pulse went into overdrive and her heart skipped a beat. He was overwhelmingly masculine, with a perfect physique, his long legs encased in blue jeans while his muscular chest and arms were emphasised by the dark T-shirt he was wearing.

‘Thanks.’ She viewed him cautiously. She hadn’t seen much of him this last week, and perhaps that was just as well, given her concerns about him. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d deliberately stayed away from her, giving her room to sort herself out. Though, of course, he must have been out at work for a good deal of the time.

It was hard to know what to think of him. He’d said they’d known one another before this, and she wanted to trust him, but the circumstances of his inheritance had left her thoroughly confused and made her want to tread carefully where he was concerned. What could have led her aunt to leave the house to be shared by two people? It was very odd.

To give Matt his due, though, he’d kept this place going after Aunt Annie’s death—he’d had the leaky barn roof fixed, her closest neighbours told her, and he’d made sure the lawns were trimmed regularly. He’d taken good care of the hens, too, and she ought to be grateful to him for all that.

‘I see you’ve made a start on picking the fruit.’ He looked at the peach tree, trained in a fan shape across the south wall where it received the most sunshine. Nearby there were raspberry canes, alongside blackberry and redcurrant bushes.

She gave a wry smile. ‘Yes…I only had to touch the peaches and they came away from the branches, so I guessed it was time to gather them in. And I had to pick the raspberries before the birds made away with the entire crop. Actually, I’ve put some of the fruit to one side for you, back in the kitchen. I was going to bring it over to you later today.’

‘That was good of you. Thanks.’ He smiled, looking at her appreciatively, his glance wandering slowly over her slender yet curvaceous figure, and making the breath catch in her throat. She was wearing light blue denim shorts and a crop top with thin straps that left her arms bare and revealed the pale gold of her midriff. All at once, under that all-seeing gaze, she felt decidedly underdressed. Her face flushed with heat, probably from a combination of the burning rays of the sun and the fact that he was standing beside her, making her conscious of her every move.

She took off her gardening gloves and brushed a stray tendril of honey-blonde hair from her face with the back of her hand. ‘There’s so much produce, I’m not quite sure what my aunt did with it all. I thought I might take some along to the neighbours along the lane.’

‘I’m sure they’ll appreciate that. Annie sold some of it, flowers, too, and eggs, to the local shopkeepers, and there were always bunches of cut flowers on sale by the roadside at the front of the house, along with baskets of fruit. She trusted people to put the money in a box, and apparently they never let her down.’

‘That sounds like a good idea. I’ll have to try it,’ she said, getting to her feet. She was a bit stiff from being in the same position for so long, and he put out a hand to help her up.

‘Thanks.’ His grasp was strong and supportive and that unexpected human contact was strangely comforting. Warm colour brushed her cheeks once more as his gaze travelled fleetingly over her long, shapely legs.

‘You could do with a gardener’s knee pad—one of those covered foam things…’

‘Yes, you’re probably right.’ She frowned. ‘I’m beginning to think that looking after this property and the land and everything that comes with it is going to be a full-time job.’

‘It is, especially at this time of year,’ he agreed. ‘But maybe you could get someone in to help out if it becomes too much for you to handle. Funds permitting, of course.’

She nodded, going over to one of the redwood garden chairs and sitting down. ‘I suppose, sooner or later, I’ll have to make up my mind what I’m going to do.’

She waved him to the seat close by. A small table connected the two chairs, and on it she had laid out a glass jug filled with iced apple juice. She lifted the cover that was draped over it to protect the contents from the sunshine. ‘Would you like a cold drink?’

‘That’d be great, thanks.’ He came to sit beside her and she brought out a second glass from the cupboard beneath the table.

She filled both glasses, passing one to him before she drank thirstily from hers. ‘It’s lovely out here, so serene, but it’s really hot today. Great if you’re relaxing but not so good when you’re working.’ She lifted the glass, pressing it against her forehead to savour the coolness.

‘How are you coping, generally?’

‘All right, I think. I came here to rest and recuperate but the way things turned out it’s been good for me to keep busy. I’ve been exploring the village and the seaside in between looking after this place. The only thing I’ve left completely alone is anything to do with the beehives. I think I’m supposed to have equipment of some sort, aren’t I, before I go near them?’

‘There are a couple of outfits in the stable block. I can show you how to go on with them, whenever you’re ready.’

She nodded. ‘Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. I’m just not quite ready to tackle beekeeping on my own.’ She drank more juice and studied him musingly. Despite her reservations about him, this was one area where she’d better let him guide her. ‘Did you help my aunt with the hives?’

‘I did, from time to time. She needed some repairs done to the stands and while I was doing that she told me all about looking after them. She said she talked to the bees, told them what was happening in her life—I don’t think she was serious about that, but she seemed to find it calming and it helped to clear her thoughts.’

‘Hmm. Perhaps I should try it. Maybe it will help me get my mind back together.’

‘How’s that going?’

She pulled a face. ‘I recall bits and pieces every now and again. Especially when I’m in the house or out here, in the garden…not so much in the village and round about. I was told Aunt Annie brought me up after my parents died, and I know…I feel inside…that she loved me as if I was her own daughter.’

Her voice faltered. ‘I…I miss her. I keep seeing her as a lively, wonderful old lady, but she was frail towards the end, wasn’t she? That’s what the solicitor said…that she had a heart attack, but I don’t remember any of that.’

‘Perhaps your mind is blocking it out.’

‘Yes, that might be it. Even so, I feel as though I’m grieving inside, even though I can’t remember everything.’ She was troubled. Wouldn’t Matt have been here when she had come back to see her aunt, and again at the time of the funeral? Everyone told her she’d done that, that she’d visited regularly, yet she had no memory of it, or of him.

She straightened her shoulders, glancing at him. ‘Anyway, I’m glad I came back to this house. I was in two minds about it at first, but somehow I feel at peace here, as though this is where I belong.’

‘I’m glad about that. Annie would have been pleased.’

‘Yes, I think she would.’ She studied him thoughtfully. ‘It sounds as though you knew her well—even though you had only been back here for a short time.’

She hesitated for a moment and then decided to say what was on her mind. ‘How was it that you came to be living here?’ She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say. He would hardly admit to wheedling his way into an elderly lady’s confidence, would he?

He lifted his glass and took a long swallow of the cold liquid. Saffi watched him, mesmerised by the movement of his sun-bronzed throat, and by the way his strong fingers gripped the glass.

He placed it back on the table a moment later. ‘I’d started a new job in the area and I was looking for a place to live. Accommodation was in short supply, it being the height of the holiday season, but I managed to find a flat near the hospital. It was a bit basic, though, and after a while I began to hanker for a few home comforts…’

‘Oh? Such as…?’ She raised a quizzical brow and he grinned.

‘Hot and cold running water, for a start, and some means of preparing food. There was a gas ring, but it took forever to heat a pan of beans. And as to the plumbing—I was lucky if it worked at all. It was okay taking cold baths in the summer, but come wintertime it was bracing, to say the least. I spoke to the landlord about it, but he kept making excuses and delaying—he obviously didn’t want to spend money on getting things fixed.’

‘So my aunt invited you stay here?’

He nodded. ‘I’d been helping her out by doing repairs about the place, and one day she suggested that I move into the annexe.’

‘That must have been a relief to you.’

He smiled. ‘Yes, it was. Best of all was the homecooked food—I wasn’t expecting that, but she used to bring me pot roasts or invite me round to her part of the house for dinner of an evening. I think she liked to have company.’

‘Yes, that was probably it.’ Her mouth softened at the image of her aunt befriending this young doctor. ‘I suppose the hot and cold running water goes without saying?’

‘That, too.’

She sighed. ‘I wish I could say the same about mine. I would have loved to take a shower after doing all that weeding, but something seems to have gone wrong with it. I tried to get hold of a plumber, but apparently they’re all too busy to come out and look at it. Three weeks is the earliest date I could get.’

He frowned. ‘Have you any idea why it stopped working? Perhaps it’s something simple, like the shower head being blocked with calcium deposits?’

‘It isn’t that. I checked. I’ve a horrible feeling it’s to do with the electronics—I suppose in the end I’ll have to buy a new shower.’ Her mouth turned down a fraction.

‘Would you like me to have a look at it? You never know, between the two of us, we might be able to sort it out, or at least find out what’s gone wrong.’

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t mind doing that?’ She felt a small ripple of relief flow through her. He might not know much at all about plumbing, but just to have a second opinion would be good.

‘I’d be glad to. Shall we go over to the house now, if you’ve finished what you were doing out here?’

‘Okay.’ They left the walled garden, passing through the stone archway, and then followed the path to the main house. Out in the open air, the hens clucked and foraged in the run amongst the patches of grass and gravel for grain and food pellets, and ignored them completely.

‘So, what happened when you tried to use the shower last time?’ Matt asked as they went upstairs a few minutes later.

‘I switched on the isolator switch as usual outside the bathroom and everything was fine. but after I’d switched off the shower I noticed that the isolator switch was stuck in the on position. The light comes on, but the water isn’t coming through.’

‘I’ll start with the switch, then. Do you have a screwdriver? Otherwise I’ll go and get one from my place.’

‘The toolbox is downstairs. I’ll get it for you.’

‘Thanks. I’ll turn off the miniature circuit-breaker.’

He went off to disconnect the electricity and a few minutes later he unscrewed the switch and began to inspect it. ‘It looks as though this is the problem,’ he said, showing her. ‘The connections are blackened.’

‘Is that bad? Do I need to be worried about the wiring?’

He shook his head. ‘It often happens with these things. They burn out. I’ll pick up another switch from the supplier in town and get someone to come over and fix it for you. I know an electrician who works at the hospital—I’ll ask him to call in.’

‘Oh, that’s brilliant…’ She frowned. ‘If he’ll do it, that is…’

‘He will. He owes me a favour or two, so I’m sure he won’t mind turning out for this. In the meantime, if you want to get a few things together—you can come over to my place to use the shower, if you like?’

‘Really?’ Her eyes widened and she gave him a grateful smile. ‘I’d like that very much, thank you.’

She hurried away to collect a change of clothes and a towel, everything that she thought she would need, and then they went over to his part of the house.

She looked around. The first time she had been here she’d been so taken aback by his revelation about the inheritance, and everything had been a bit of a blur, so she hadn’t taken much in.

But now she saw that his living room was large and airy, with a wide window looking out on to a well-kept lawn and curved flower borders. He’d kept the furnishing in here simple, uncluttered, with two creamcoloured sofas and an oak coffee table that had pleasing granite tile inserts. There was a large, flat-screen TV on the wall. The floor was golden oak, partially covered by an oriental patterned rug. It was a beautiful, large annexe—what could have persuaded Aunt Annie to leave him all this?

‘I’m afraid I’m on call today with the first-response team,’ he said, cutting into her thoughts, ‘so if I have to leave while you’re in the shower, just help yourself to whatever you need—there’s tea and coffee in the kitchen and cookies in the jar. Otherwise I’ll be waiting for you in here.’

He paused, sending her a look that was part teasing, part hopeful. Heat glimmered in the depths of his grey eyes. ‘Unless, of course, you need a hand with anything in the bathroom? I’d be happy to help out. More than happy…’

She gave a soft, uncertain laugh, not quite sure how to respond to that. ‘Well, uh…that’s a great offer, but I think I’ll manage, thanks.’

He contrived to look disappointed and amused all at the same time. ‘Ah, well…another day, perhaps?’

‘In your dreams,’ she murmured.

She went upstairs to the bathroom, still thinking about his roguish suggestion. It was hard to admit, but she was actually more than tempted. He was strong, incredibly good looking, hugely charismatic and very capable…he’d shown that he was very willing to help out with anything around the place.

So why had she turned him down? She was a free spirit after all, with no ties. The truth was, she’d no idea how she’d been before, but right now she was deeply wary of rushing into anything, and she’d only known him for a very short time.

Or had she? He’d said they’d known one another for quite a while, years, in fact. What kind of relationship had that been? For his part, he was definitely interested in her and he certainly seemed keen to take things further.

But she still wasn’t sure she could trust him. He was charming, helpful, competent…weren’t those the very qualities that might have made her aunt want to bequeath him part of her home?

She sighed. It was frustrating to have so many unanswered questions.

Going into the bathroom, she tried to push those thoughts to one side as she looked around. This room was all pearly white, with gleaming, large rectangular tiles on the wall, relieved by deeply embossed border tiles in attractive pastel colours. There was a bath, along with the usual facilities, and in the corner there was a beautiful, curved, glass-fronted shower cubicle.

Under the shower spray, she tried to relax and let the warm water soothe away her troubled thoughts. Perhaps she should learn to trust, and take comfort in the knowledge that Matt had only ever been kind to her.

So far, he had been there for her, doing his best to help her settle in. She had been the only stumbling block to his initial efforts by being suspicious of his motives around her aunt. Perhaps she should do her best to be a little more open to him.

Afterwards, she towelled her hair dry and put on fresh clothes, jeans that clung to her in all the right places, and a short-sleeved T-shirt the same blue as her eyes. She didn’t want to go downstairs with wet hair, but there was no hairdryer around so she didn’t really have a choice. Still, even when damp her hair curled riotously, so perhaps she didn’t look too bad.

Anyway, if Matt had been called away to work, it wouldn’t matter how she looked, would it?

‘Hi.’ He smiled as she walked into the living room. ‘You look fresh and wholesome—like a beautiful water nymph.’

She returned his smile. ‘Thanks. And thanks for letting me use the shower. Perhaps I ought to go back to my place and find my hairdryer.’

‘Do you have to do that? I’m making some lunch for us. I heard the shower switch off, so I thought you might soon be ready to eat. We could take the food outside, if you want. The sun will dry your hair.’

‘Oh…okay. I wasn’t expecting that. It sounds good.’

They went outside on to a small, paved terrace, and he set out food on a wrought-iron table, inviting her to sit down while he went to fetch cold drinks. He’d made pizza slices, topped with mozzarella cheese, tomato and peppers, along with a crisp side salad.

He came back holding a tray laden with glass tumblers and a jug of mixed red fruit juice topped with slices of apple, lemon and orange.

‘I can bring you some wine, if you prefer,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. ‘I can’t have any myself in case I have to go out on a job.’

‘No, this will be fine,’ she told him. ‘It looks wonderful.’

‘It is. Wait till you taste it.’

The food was good, and the juice, which had a hint of sparkling soda water in it, was even better than it looked. ‘This has been a real treat for me,’ she said a little later, when they’d finished a simple dessert of ice cream and fresh raspberries. ‘Everything was delicious.’ She mused on that for a moment. ‘I don’t remember when someone last prepared a meal for me.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ He sent her a sideways glance. ‘Actually, Annie made meals for both of us sometimes—whenever you came over here to visit she would cook, or put out buffet-style food, or occasionally she would ask me to organise the barbecue so that we could eat outside and enjoy the summer evenings. Sometimes she would ask the neighbours to join us.’ He watched her carefully. ‘Don’t you have any memory of that?’

‘No…’ She tried to think about it, grasping at fleeting images with her mind, but in the end she had to admit defeat. Then a stray vision came out of nowhere, and she said quickly, ‘Except—there was one time…I think I’d been out somewhere—to work, or to see friends—then somehow I was back here and everything was wrong.’

He straightened up, suddenly taut and a bit on edge. Distracted, she sent him a bewildered glance. ‘I don’t know what happened, but the feelings are all mixed up inside me. I know I was desperately unhappy and I think Aunt Annie put her arms around me to comfort me.’ She frowned. ‘How can I not remember? It’s as though I’m distracted all the while, all over the place in my head. Why am I like this?’

It was a plea for help and he said softly, ‘You probably feel that way because it’s as though part of you is missing. Your mind is still the one bit of you that needs to heal. And perhaps deep down, for some reason, you’re rejecting what’s already there, hidden inside you. Give it time. Don’t try so hard, and I expect it’ll come back to you in a few weeks or months.’

‘Weeks or months…when am I ever going to get back to normal?’ There was a faint thread of despair in her voice. ‘I should be working, earning a living, but how do I do that when I don’t even know what it’s like to be a doctor?’

He didn’t answer. His phone rang at that moment, cutting through their conversation, and she noticed that the call came on a different mobile from his everyday phone. He immediately became alert.

‘It’s a job,’ he said, when he had finished speaking to Ambulance Control, ‘so I have to go. I’m sorry to leave you, Saffi, but I’m the nearest responder.’

‘Do you know what it is, what’s happened?’

He nodded. ‘A six-year-old boy has been knocked down by a car. The paramedics are asking for a doctor to attend.’ He stood up, grim-faced, and made to walk across the terrace, but then he stopped and looked back at her. He made as if to say something and then stopped.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing.’

He made to turn away again and she said quickly, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind, please.’

‘I wondered if you might want to come with me? It might be good for you to be out there again, to get a glimpse of the working world. Then again, this might not be the best call out for you, at this time.’ He frowned. ‘It could be bad.’

She hesitated, overwhelmed by a moment of panic, a feeling of dread that ripped through her, but he must have read her thoughts because he said in a calm voice, ‘You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just observe.’

She sucked in a deep breath. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’ It couldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t called on to make any decisions, could it? But this was a young child…that alone was enough to make her balk at the prospect. Should she change her mind?

Matt was already heading out to the garage, and she hurried after him. This was no time to be dithering.

They slid into the seats of the rapid-response vehicle, a car that came fully equipped for emergency medical situations, and within seconds Matt had set the sat nav and was driving at speed towards the scene of the accident. He switched on the flashing blue light and the siren and Saffi tried to keep a grip on herself. All she had to do was observe, he’d said. Nothing more. She repeated it to herself over and over, as if by doing that she would manage to stay calm.

‘This is the place.’

Saffi took in everything with a glance. A couple of policemen were here, questioning bystanders and organising traffic diversions. An ambulance stood by, its rear doors open, and a couple of paramedics hid her view of the injured child. A woman was there, looking distraught. Saffi guessed she was the boy’s mother.

Matt was out of the car within seconds, grabbing his kit, along with a monitor and paediatric bag.

With a jolt, Saffi realised that she recognised the equipment. That was a start, at least. But he was already striding purposefully towards his patient, and Saffi quickly followed him.

Her heart turned over when she saw the small boy lying in the road. He was only six…six years old. This should never be happening.

After a brief conversation with the paramedics, Matt crouched down beside the child. ‘How are you doing?’ he asked the boy.

The child didn’t answer. He was probably in shock. His eyes were open, though, and Matt started to make a quick examination.

‘My leg…don’t touch my leg!’ The boy suddenly found his voice, and Matt acknowledged that with a small intake of breath. It was a good sign that he was conscious and lucid.

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