“Madison, I want to get to know you, all of you. I want to get close to you….”

She frowned up at him as if he were speaking a foreign language, a language that she’d barely even started to grasp. But occasional words filtered through, and despite her utter confusion somehow she understood what Guy was saying. She wanted to get close to him too, wanted to get to know all of him. She stared back at his gorgeous face, and it almost seemed possible that with a man like Guy she could work it out, that maybe they could learn this language together.

Dear Reader,

The opening of a new hospital generates an enormous amount of interest and excitement. I know, because it happened recently in the area where I live. Every week the local papers outlined the building’s progress. And as opening day neared, parents waiting for their children in the playground could be heard chatting about the jobs they were applying for, while expectant mums counted the days till the maternity ward opened so that their baby could be delivered in one of the very new, very sumptuous birthing suites.

Taking the tour of the new hospital (yes there was a tour for the public!) I found myself caught up in the excitement and knew there had to be a story there. In fact, by the time the ribbon had been cut, Madison had already introduced herself to me!

I hope you enjoy her story.

Happy reading,

Carol Marinelli

Needed: Full-Time Father
Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

COVER

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

HER very own parking space!

Pulling on the handbrake of her smart, practical and incredibly clean sedan, Madison Walsh took a moment out of her busy schedule to indulge herself, staring with quiet satisfaction at the writing on the wall.

RESERVED / ED NUM

OK, it didn’t say reserved for Madison Walsh, Nursing Unit Manager, Accident and Emergency Department, it didn’t even matter that a parking space was possibly the last thing a perpetually early-for-everything woman like Madison needed—but it was hers!

Another step in the right direction, another life goal achieved.

Locking her car, Madison waved as Gerard Dalton slid his dark blue car into his own reserved parking spot and waited politely as the elderly gentleman climbed out.

‘One day I’ll beat you to work!’ Gerard grinned. ‘You’re not due to start for another two hours, Madison.’

‘Neither are you,’ Madison pointed out, walking with Gerard through the dark car park, bypassing the darkened accident and emergency entrance and heading instead to the main reception area of the hospital.

‘I guess we both just want to have that one final check before it’s all systems go. Mind you,’ he added rather more lightly, ‘not before a good strong cup of coffee. Let’s hope the kitchen staff remembers that we’re here and delivers us some milk…’ His voice trailed off as Madison held up a carrier bag.

‘I stopped at the garage, just in case there wasn’t any.’

‘Of course you did,’ Gerard said with a wry note to his voice. ‘Who’s looking after that gorgeous daughter of yours while her mother’s out all hours?’

‘Emily’s fine.’ Madison laughed. ‘She’s having a sleepover at my friend Helen’s, so that I could be here early today.’

‘And she’s enjoying going to school?’

‘She loves it,’ Madison responded warmly, as they arrived outside the deserted reception area. She nodded her thanks as the security guard gave a thumbs-up and the doors slid open.

‘Morning, Vic!’

‘Morning, Professor, morning, Sister,’ Vic responded cheerfully. ‘All ready for the big day?’

‘I hope so,’ Madison said, rolling her eyes. ‘If we’re not, we’re about to find out the hard way.’

‘How could we not be ready?’ Gerard said assuredly as they walked along the highly polished corridor and into the vacant emergency unit. ‘We’ve been planning this day for months now.’

‘I know,’ Madison sighed, flicking on lights as she went, noticing how hard the domestic staff had been working in the last couple of days, every last trace of builders’ dust gone. The plastic wraps had been removed from the chairs in the waiting room, even the vending machines had been stocked up, but nothing could take away the scent of new paint and carpeting, and the pristine look of a hospital that had yet to see a patient. ‘At least that’s what I keep telling myself, but I’ve been awake every night for the past week, thinking of a million and one things that might go wrong.’

‘You worry too much,’ Gerard admonished, steering her away from the empty nurses’ station and into the staffroom. ‘You’re the most meticulous, organised person I know, Madison. That’s one of the reasons I insisted on having you as the NUM when they offered me the director’s role for the new accident and emergency department. Designing a hospital from scratch is a hard enough task, but without a well-run, functioning emergency department…’ He paused for a moment, kettle poised in mid-fill, and Madison noted he’d pulled out three mugs, which summed Gerard Dalton up in a heartbeat.

He’d be making a brew for Vic as well—porter or professor, it didn’t matter. If you were on Gerard’s team, you belonged.

‘You know this is one of the proudest days of my life.’

‘There’d be a lot of proud moments in a life like yours, Gerard,’ Madison said warmly, and if it sounded gushing she didn’t care. Gerard Dalton was quite simply the finest doctor and the most honourable man she had ever met. A devoted husband and father, he had somehow managed to squeeze in a career that would have anyone reeling. As well as being an esteemed emergency doctor, he was also a tireless AID worker for developing countries. The long list of letters after his name had been extremely well earned and, always thrilled to work alongside him, Madison had been honoured when he’d hand-picked her to join him in the daunting task of getting the accident and emergency department of the brand new Heatherton Hospital up and hopefully running successfully.

‘There have been a lot of proud moments,’ Gerard agreed. ‘But this is something really special. I don’t know how many times I’ve said in my career that if only things were different, if only we had the right equipment, if only someone had thought to put that here or this there…’ He gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m waffling.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Madison said. ‘I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing—all this wonderful new equipment, consultations with the designers, hand-picking the staff, it’s going to be wonderful.’

‘If you like that sort of thing.’ Gerard smiled and Madison did, too. ‘You either love hospitals or you hate them, I guess. What time do you think the staff will start getting here?’

‘Well, no one’s actually due to start until seven, but everyone was so enthusiastic when they came for orientation, I’m sure they’ll start trickling in after six.’

‘And the department officially opens at nine?’ Gerard checked his paperwork and Madison smothered a smile—they’d been over and over the details a thousand times, but despite Gerard’s amazing ability to retain anything remotely medical, when it came to trivial matters such as clocks, budgets or even where he’d put down his glasses, he was the original absent-minded professor.

‘We open at nine for patients making their own way in, but we’re closed to ambulances until eleven a.m., which will give us a couple of hours to iron out any minor hiccups that might arise.’

‘Good idea,’ Gerard agreed.

‘It was your idea, Gerard,’ Madison said, not bothering to hide her smile this time.

‘So it was,’ Gerard said. ‘Right, it looks like all we need now is a patient.’

‘And a consultant,’ Madison added, instantly regretting the slight edge to her voice. Because she’d worked alongside Gerard for so many years now, naturally he picked up on it.

‘You’re going to like him, Madison. Guy Boyd is the finest doctor I’ve had the privilege to work with.’ Which, coming from Gerard, was high praise indeed, but still Madison remained hesitant.

‘I just wish I’d met him. From what you’ve described, he’s not exactly…’ Her voice trailed off, not wanting to be rude, not wanting to judge before she’d even laid eyes on the man, but Gerard spoke for her.

‘Guy’s a bit of a free spirit,’ Gerard said, and no doubt he meant well, but the description of the new consultant brought absolutely no comfort to Madison, the words ‘free spirit’ searing through her like dental pain as she gritted her teeth. ‘He just doesn’t like to be tied down in one place for too long.’

‘He doesn’t like responsibility, you mean?’ Madison responded. ‘Look, I’ll reserve judgement till I’ve met him, Gerard, but we’ve known each other long enough to be honest, and the truth of the matter is I’m not particularly keen on “free spirits” wandering around my department. I want fully grounded, on-the-ball, committed workers.’

‘I know,’ Gerard answered, smiling placidly at Madison’s frown. ‘And I know we’ve both been in on every interview, that we’ve both agreed on every member of the team, but in Guy’s case he simply couldn’t get here because he was overseas. When I emailed him about the new department I couldn’t believe my luck—our luck—when he said that he was keen to be a part of it.’

‘But he’s only prepared to commit to a six-month contract,’ Madison pointed out. ‘We’re aiming for continuity, Gerard, staff who will follow the vision…’

‘We are.’ Gerard nodded. ‘And if it was anyone else I’d have said no but, believe me, six months with Guy Boyd on board is too good to pass up. You’re just going to have to trust me, Madison.’

‘Which I do,’ Madison said, forcing a smile, determined to let nothing mar this day. ‘I’m probably overreacting. I’m sure that he’ll turn out to be great.’

‘Once you get used to him,’ Gerard added, and Madison wished he hadn’t! ‘Guy’s not exactly into hospital politics. He’s not exactly politically correct—very much his own man,’ Gerard explained, but seeing Madison’s tight expression hastily turned his back and spooned sugar into a mug. ‘I’d best take this out to Vic. I noticed the sign diverting patients has been taken down. We ought to put it back up until the department officially opens.’

‘Gerard, when you say he’s not into hospital politics…’ Madison didn’t even finish her sentence, her audience lost as Gerard headed off for an extended chat with Vic. Madison headed through the department towards the entrance, picking up the sign the cleaners must have taken down when they’d polished the doors. She pressed it back against the glass, and jumped as a looming shadow appeared out of the darkness.

‘We’re closed,’ Madison mouthed, pointing to the sign, but perhaps in the subdued light she couldn’t be seen. It was either a patient who needed help or a member of staff, so Madison tapped the window and gestured to Reception. ‘Go that way,’ she said, exaggerating the words to make herself understood, peering into the bleak ambulance bay.

He didn’t look like a patient. Certainly, from his relaxed stance he wasn’t in any pain, although admittedly all she could really see was a white T-shirt. But there wasn’t any urgency in his actions.

‘Problem?’ Gerard asked, coming behind her and flicking on the light, which reduced Madison’s visibility to zero.

‘Either an eager patient or a keen member of staff.’

‘We can deal with both.’ Gerard gave a half laugh and, cupping his hands, pressed them against the window.

‘Why, it’s Guy!’ The delight in his voice forced Madison’s attention and she watched as Gerard fiddled with the door. ‘Can’t we open it?’

‘Not without Security,’ Madison answered, resisting the urge to cup her own hands against the glass and have a good look at the new, politically incorrect consultant, but curiosity got the better of her and, cupping her own hand against the glass, she peered out into the pre-dawn darkness. Her eyes squinted to focus then she stepped back as a smiling, utterly laid-back face greeted hers. Inexplicably she felt as if he was way, way too close to her, his presence definitely felt even though he was safely on the other side of a thick glass door. In that split second a shooting flame of something she couldn’t quite define rippled through her—and had Madison pulling away rapidly, catching her breath as if she’d been stung.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine,’ Madison answered briskly. ‘He’ll have to walk round to Reception. We should go and meet him…’ She headed off, expecting Gerard to follow her. After all, despite her own misgivings about his employment, it was the new consultant that was arriving and he deserved to be greeted. But as she walked back through the sterile waiting room it took a moment to realise she was walking alone.

‘Gerard?’ Turning with a smile, Madison stared back to where she’d just come from and froze. She stood fixed to the spot. Vaguely aware of the coffee from her cup splashing onto the new blue carpet, followed in a split second by the sound of the cheap, china mug thudding to the ground, the world moved in slow motion for a moment. A tiny, useless croak came from her throat and then she was running, running towards her boss, her friend, her confidant, running as fast as her legs would carry her, as Gerard slowly slid down the length of the glass door, his face in the fluorescent light a hideous purple. Then the world was speeding up again, seemingly stuck on fast-forward, and Madison begged it to slow back down as she reached her boss, broke his leaden fall a touch and lowered Gerard to the floor.

Madison crouched on her knees, willing herself to hold it together, drawing on her professionalism, almost reading off the chart that was tattooed in her mind, through the ABC—airway, breathing, circulation—trying, trying to treat him as a patient, desperate to give back to this amazing, talented man some of what he’d so readily delivered to others in the course of his career.

‘It’s OK, Gerard,’ Madison soothed him, her voice amazingly assured. She checked his airway, watching, praying to see the rise and fall of his chest as her fingers desperately fought to locate a pulse in his neck.

‘Gerard.’ Her voice was sharper now, tears muffling her words as she called out his name, but even as she pinched his nose, tried to keep her breathing even enough to drag in some air to exhale, clamped trembling fingers into position over his chest, Madison knew he had gone, knew in that moment the vital, eloquent, disarming man had already gone for ever.

But that knowledge didn’t stop her from trying to bring him back to them all—to his family that needed him, to his friends and colleagues that adored him, to the department he had created from the first blueprint.

Barely looking up as footsteps thudded towards her, she noted with relief that the new consultant had picked up vital emergency equipment on his way—an ambubag to reinflate Gerard’s lungs and a mini oxygen cylinder, even the red bag that contained a self-administering defibrillator. She moved aside as the man she’d briefly glimpsed ripped open the packages, connected the tubing and took over Gerard’s airway with an ambu-bag. She concentrated instead on cardiac compressions as Vic arrived, shouting into his walkie-talkie for assistance, dragged an oxygen cylinder over and connected it to the bag Guy was squeezing.

‘What happened?’ Guy’s voice was deep but urgent—no introduction, no niceties, because there was nothing nice about this.

‘You saw what happened,’ Madison answered, leaning in as she pummelled Gerard’s chest. ‘He just collapsed.’

‘Did he complain of chest pain?’

‘No.’

‘Headache, dizziness, shortness of breath?’

‘Nothing!’ She almost shouted it. ‘I thought he was walking behind me.’

‘Is there anything else I can do?’ It was Vic speaking now, Vic desperate to help, to do something, anything. ‘I let Switchboard know on my walkie-talkie as I was running over. The nursing supervisor was just pulling up in the car park when it happened, they’re going to send for her.’

‘We need to get him to Resus—get a trolley,’ Guy shouted, but Vic was already picking up Gerard’s shoulders, and Guy assisted him, somehow carrying the leaden weight. Madison raced ahead, turning on machines that had so far only been used in practice runs, completely unable to comprehend that the patient they’d so eagerly anticipated, had so long awaited, had trained and practiced for, had, in fact, turned out to be Gerard himself.

As Madison ripped open chest pads, Guy tore at Gerard’s suit then picked up the chest paddles and placed them over Gerard’s chest to give a reading of his heart rate.

‘Asystole,’ Madison said, seeing the flat line appear on the monitor. She plugged in the ambu-bag to the walled oxygen and commenced the breathing for Gerard, but Guy shook his head.

‘It could be fine VF,’ he said, hoping that the reading that was showing on the monitor wasn’t a true one—asystole was the worse kind of cardiac arrest, but there was a chance, a tiny one, that his heart was fibrillating and that the reading was so fine the machine couldn’t pick it up, a tiny chance that he had a type of cardiac arrhythmia that could be reverted and Madison stood back as Guy gave Gerard the benefit of the doubt and delivered a shock to his lifeless body.

‘Still asystole.’ Guy’s voice was hoarse. ‘Keep up the massage.’ They needed more hands, needed help here now, and thankfully it arrived. Shirley, the nursing supervisor, racing into Resus, her expression appalled when she took in the scene.

‘Bag him, Shirley,’ Madison ordered, clipping a tourniquet to Gerard’s flaccid arm and getting IV access as Guy continued to pound Guy’s chest. ‘Vic, call for an ambulance, tell them we need the MICA.’

‘MICA?’ Vic gave a panicked, bewildered shake of his head.

‘The mobile intensive care unit, Switch will understand. Tell them to say that our doctor has had a cardiac arrest and we need him to be transferred, we need an ICU bed…’ Madison was pulling up the standard drugs used during a cardiac arrest and handing them to Guy, before he even had to name them. She winced as he shocked Gerard again, the horrible, singed smell filling the sterile room. She felt the indignity of seeing the immaculate Gerard with his chest bared, his tie cut and pushed to the side. But as was so much the man, a handkerchief still peeped out of his suit pocket—a poignant reminder of the immaculate man they were trying to save.

‘Look, I don’t know if it means anything,’ Vic spoke, his voice shaky, unsure of his reception, but Guy was open to any suggestion and nodded urgently for Vic to go on. ‘He said something about a sore back last night when he went home.’

‘He could have a ruptured aortic aneurysm,’ Guy said, referring to a dire surgical emergency where the main artery of the body ruptured.

‘He strained his back, moving a box with me, last night,’ Madison said, shaking her head. ‘I was there, Guy. It was a simple strain, I saw it happen myself…’

‘Open a thoracotomy tray,’ Guy called, and almost on autopilot Madison went to retrieve one. She set it up to open Gerard’s chest, to rip through his sternum so that Guy could visualise the heart, massage it with his hands, clamp the aorta, tie off a bleed or remove a clot, do something, anything, that might prolong this wonderful life. But all Madison knew was that Gerard wouldn’t have wanted it.

‘We did everything we could.’

She’d heard it said so many times, had used the sentence herself on many, many occasions, but maybe for the first time Madison knew exactly what it meant. That sometimes to do everything you actually had to be brave and do nothing—because nothing modern medicine had to offer was going to help now. Despite heroics, despite best effort, nothing could make a difference for Gerard—certainly not ripping open his chest with a saw.

‘He’s gone.’ She couldn’t believe she was saying it, yet she knew that it was true. Knew that going on even a moment longer was an indignity, that Professor Gerard Dalton had gone and nothing was going to bring him back.

‘He might have…’ For a second Guy wavered, torn between hope and truth, and for the first time Madison actually looked at him, took in the man she’d never formally met but who seemed somehow to understand the atrocity of what had taken place. Dark blond hair flopped over his forehead, the same raw anguish she had first witnessed when he had knelt down beside Gerard’s lifeless body in the entrance hall more visible now. His hazel eyes stared first at her then down at his patient, his tall, muscular body slumped in resignation, the rhythmic massage stilling. But his fingers were still knotted together over Gerard’s chest as he stared at the monitor.

‘There’s no history?’ he checked. ‘Any pre-existing—?’

‘He’s a workaholic,’ Madison whispered. ‘That’s all I know.’

And the agony she had briefly witnessed was smothered now as Guy reverted to the practical, drew on his professionalism. He flicked on his torch, tested Gerard’s pupil response, pulled out his stethoscope and listened for any indication of life, shaking his head as the paramedics rushed in pumped for action, ready to assist. They visibly deflated as they realised who the patient was—anyone who had been in Emergency for any length of time knew and respected Gerard Dalton.

‘Time of death.’ Guy Boyd’s voice was hollow, a muscle flickering in his taut cheek as he glance up at the clock. ‘Five thirty-two a.m.’

And Madison did what was needed but no more—she closed Gerard’s eyes on a world he had left too soon, pulled a sheet up over his body but not over his face, then walked out of the area, dragging in air that seemed stale, nausea seeping into every pore, nerves jumping as Guy Boyd came up behind her.

‘What happened? Before I arrived, I mean.’

‘You saw what happened,’ Madison choked. ‘One minute we were talking, looking forward to today and the next…’ She took a deep breath, swallowing rising hysteria. ‘His wife, I’ll have to—’

‘I’ll do it,’ Guy broke in, but Madison shook her head.

‘She deserves more than a phone call.’

‘I’ll go over to her home now.’ He gave a hesitant nod, then midway it changed and he nodded more firmly. ‘The hospital doesn’t officially open for a few hours yet. I’ll go and fetch her.’

‘But Yvonne should hear it from someone who knows her…’ Tears were starting, emotion was creeping in, but Madison choked it all back, appalled at the prospect of breaking down, terrified that if she started to cry she’d never stop, painfully aware that staff would be arriving soon.

‘I know Yvonne,’ Guy said, his hand reaching out and capturing her shoulder, squeezing it. Madison couldn’t be sure if he was giving support or taking it. ‘I’ll tell her what’s happened face to face—it’s better that way. No doubt she’ll want to come straight over to the hospital, she’ll need to see for herself…Are you OK?’ His voice changed from pensive to worried, his hand tightened on her shoulder, but more in an attempt to hold her up. ‘Sister…?’

‘Madison,’ she filled in, running a tongue over horribly dry lips. A scream built in her throat but she swallowed it back, balled her fists, struggled to keep it all in check as blindly Guy continued.

‘Madison Walsh,’ Guy responded, obviously having recognised her name. ‘Gerard speaks very highly of you.’ A flash of pain flickered across his face and mercifully he didn’t correct himself, didn’t relegate Gerard to the past tense while he was still warm in the room nearby. Instead, Guy gulped in air, raked a hand through his hair and then nodded as if to right himself.

‘I’ll go and tell Yvonne now. This is going to have to go to the coroner, so don’t remove any equipment from the…’ He gave a tiny swallow before continuing. ‘Just make him look as presentable as you can.’

‘Of course I will,’ Madison snapped, not sure where her anger was coming from, not sure at all how she was actually feeling, but relieved to let a little bit of emotion out. ‘As if I need to be told how to prepare a patient.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Guy said. ‘I wasn’t implying…’ His voice trailed off and Madison stood there trying to take it all in, trying to fathom how somehow in a matter of minutes everything, everything, had changed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, and Madison knew he wasn’t apologising for his words this time but for the terrible loss that had been suffered.

‘Me, too,’ Madison whispered, wondering how she was going to do this, how she was going to tell the staff. Face Yvonne. Her mind grasped for some comfort, for strength to see her through just the next moment at least. She found it from an unlikely source. Guy Boyd’s hand reached for her shoulder, gripping it tightly for a moment in a tender show of support.

‘We’ll get through this, the department is going to get through this.’

But Madison knew that, knew the team she and Gerard had created, the procedures that had long since been put in place, were enough to withstand even a blow such as this. Her grief was on a much more personal level and when she didn’t respond, Guy seemed to sense why.

‘He was more than just a boss to you, wasn’t he?’

‘Much more,’ Madison agreed, and perhaps it was the emotion of the moment, a need to voice what was on her mind. Whatever the reason, she found herself opening up in a way she hadn’t in the longest time, and even though there were endless things to be addressed, endless problems to face, the two of them took a small slice of time to share in some memories before they faced the unenviable tasks ahead. ‘He delivered my daughter.’

‘Don’t tell me you delivered the baby at work!’ Guy teased, but his voice was tinged with something he couldn’t identify—regret, confusion, he didn’t know. It was hard to believe that this brittle, almost hostile woman should have a softer side, that behind the starched uniform and withering stare beat the infinitely gentler dimensions of a woman.

‘Not quite.’ A tiny smile wobbled on her lips as she recalled the memory. ‘We needed the money so I worked far into my pregnancy. I was thirty-five weeks pregnant and thought I had a bit of back pain. I tried not to let anyone see, but Gerard, being Gerard, picked up on it straight away. He wanted me to go to Maternity but I insisted on going home first. Being the gentleman he was, he offered to drive me home.’

‘You didn’t have it in his car!’

Looking up, she saw that hazel eyes were somehow, despite what had happened, smiling.

‘No, but I found out what those little handrails above windows are for.’ His quizzical frown told Madison that clearly Guy didn’t have a clue—no doubt, he thought that they’d merely been provided to hang his dry cleaning from. ‘Suddenly I was holding onto the handles, gripping for dear life and wanting to push! Gerard was great. He executed a U-turn in the middle of the road and drove me to Maternity. We made it with seconds to spare.’ Like a balloon bursting, the blissful warmth of the memory dispersed and cold reality settled in. ‘He was there for me during good times and bad, there for me when my life fell apart…’ She checked herself, appalled at admitting so much to a stranger, consoling herself that grief did the strangest things to even the most sensible people. Pressing her fingers into her eyes, Madison halted herself and drew on some extremely well-used inner reserve as Guy watched.

He watched and tried to fathom this woman falling apart—stared down at the very straight brown hair pulled sharply back, the minimal but carefully applied make-up, the crisply ironed burgundy blouse that told everyone she was a senior member of staff, her very neat navy skirt sitting just on the knee and above even neater navy stockinged legs. He wondered what scale she measured herself on because from where he was standing, the closest a woman like Madison Walsh would come to falling apart was a run in her stockings. And no doubt she’s have a replacement pair in her bag, and a couple in her office drawer, too, come to that.

‘I can’t somehow imagine your life falling apart,’ he murmured, and Madison let out a hollow laugh.

‘Believe me, it did, and through it all Gerard was there.’ Feeling horribly self-indulgent, she shot a shy look at Guy. ‘From what Gerard told me, you know each other pretty well.’

‘Not well enough, unfortunately,’ Guy said softly, and there was something in his voice she couldn’t interpret, a pain that however well hidden seemed incredibly raw. ‘I was hoping to put that right, though. I was really looking forward to working alongside him. I’ll go and tell Yvonne,’ Guy said wearily, and headed off to perform the hardest task of the entire morning.

CHAPTER TWO

MADISON was glad to be busy and to be able to immerse herself in the seemingly insurmountable task of creating some sort of order out of the chaotic day. When a patient died the work didn’t stop. There were relatives to be contacted, forms to be filled out, the body to be prepared. But when the death was sudden, when the patient was also the director of the ward, the workload tripled and Madison dived straight in, discussing the options with Shirley.

‘I’ve paged Terrence Hall, the CEO,’ Shirley said crisply, bustling out of Madison’s office over to the nurses’ station. And though Shirley’s voice and actions were supremely efficient, her red-rimmed eyes revealed the inner pain of dealing with the practicalities. ‘And I’ve asked Vic to send all the arriving staff into the main waiting room for a team meeting. I thought it might be easier if we tell everyone at once.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Madison agreed. ‘A lot of the staff will only have met him during orientation or at their interviews, but for those that have worked with him…’ She let out a long sigh. ‘There are going to be some very upset staff members.’

‘How far away does Mrs Dalton live?’ Shirley asked, glancing down at her watch and then frowning. ‘And will this new consultant know where to go?’

‘I expect so—from what Gerard told me, they knew each other well. He didn’t ask for an address or directions or anything and, given that it’s five minutes or so away, we ought to get things ready.’

By ‘things’ Madison meant the body, but some words didn’t need to be said and both women headed into Resus, determined to do their best for Gerard. And that now meant looking after his family.

Because Gerard’s death would most likely have to be investigated by the coroner, all the equipment such as chest pads and IV access had to be left untouched, so Shirley busied herself clearing away the chaos of wrappers and ampoules and syringes, tidying up the area to make it look as presentable as possible. Madison did up Gerard’s shirt over the equipment, her shaking hands trying to rearrange his cut tie, placing a pillow under his head and moving his arms out over the sheet so that his family would be able to hold his hands.

‘He looks peaceful,’ Shirley said, and even though it was a cliché, it was true—in death he looked ten years younger, the tension that must have held him together gone for ever now. ‘Should we move him over to a cubicle to give his family more privacy?’ She stopped as Guy’s solemn face appeared at the curtain. After a brief nod from Madison, he ushered in Gerard’s wife and all the words Madison usually delivered at times like these faded before they even formed on her lips. Seeing the usually immaculate, proud Yvonne Dalton’s ashen, overwhelmed face as Guy gently guided her in told Madison no words were needed now, that Yvonne only needed to be with her husband.

The guttural scream was heart-wrenching and Madison drew her breath in sharply, biting down on her bottom lip as she guided Yvonne’s trembling hand to her husband’s while Guy placed a chair behind her, his strong hands helping her to sit.

‘Would you like us to leave you alone, Yvonne?’ Madison asked. The woman gave a distracted nod.

‘Yvonne?’ Guy’s voice was supremely gentle. ‘Can I—?’

‘I’m fine.’ Yvonne bristled, angry accusing eyes swinging towards him. ‘I’d like to be left alone.’

‘How was she?’ Madison asked when they were out of earshot at the nurses’ station. ‘When you were at the house?’

‘Much as you’d expect,’ Guy said, revealing nothing. But his strained expression told Madison it hadn’t been easy. ‘I rang her son and daughter for her—her hands were shaking too much—and they’re on their way in from the City. They shouldn’t be very long. Look, I hate to ask, I’m not usually known for passing the buck, but could I ask you to deal with Yvonne when she comes out? I think I’m only upsetting her more.’

‘Of course,’ Madison agreed, but, seeing his troubled expression, she felt it wasn’t quite enough. ‘Guy, I know Yvonne seemed hostile in there but she doesn’t blame you for any of this, she’s just upset and confused at the moment. You’re the one who told her the bad news, so it’s you she’s reacting to.’

‘Perhaps,’ Guy said, but he sounded far from convinced. ‘But I think it would be better for everyone if I stay in the background while Yvonne’s around. OK, bring me up to speed. What have you done while I was gone?’

And even though Madison appreciated the directness of his question, was more than happy to concentrate on practicalities at the moment, she couldn’t help but feel Guy was changing the subject. ‘Vic’s directing all the staff into the main waiting room so that they can be told together. I’ve got out the interim death certificate forms for you and I’ve pinned the coroner’s number to the front. Shirley—the nurse supervisor—has paged the CEO. I suppose I should let Ambulance Control know.’

Ambulance Control?’ Guy frowned. ‘I thought we weren’t open to ambulances till eleven.’

‘We’re not,’ Madison said, ‘but we can hardly go ahead with opening.’ She registered his bemused expression and it infuriated her. ‘Guy, I don’t think you understand just how pivotal Gerard really is to this department.’

‘Perhaps not,’ Guy responded, ‘but, then, neither do the patients. In fact, I can guarantee that when someone’s baby starts convulsing or their husband develops chest pain, the last thing they’ll be expecting is a closed-for-business sign on the door. The only thing that will be on their minds is that the new hospital opens today—thank heaven help’s close at hand.

‘We’ll address the staff in ten minutes.’

He didn’t await her response, which was just as well, Madison realized, because she didn’t have one. Instead, he turned and headed off. Seeing Yvonne come out shakily from behind the curtain, Madison guided the distraught woman to the interview room and sat with her in silence for a few minutes as Yvonne quietly wept. She offered the occasional tissue but deliberately didn’t speak, allowing Yvonne to guide her in what she needed from Madison.

‘When he collapsed… ’Yvonne gulped, pleating the tissue between her fingers, her usually strong voice strangled in pain as she forced the words out. ‘When Guy arrived and Gerard collapsed, what did he say?’

‘He didn’t say anything, Yvonne,’ Madison said gently. ‘It all happened very quickly.’

‘I know that,’Yvonne answered through gritted teeth, ‘but I need to know what was said, I need to know what—’ Her frustrated words halted abruptly and Madison didn’t rush to fill the silence, rehearsing in her mind what to say. Yvonne’s response was very normal, trying to glean anything she could from the last moments of her loved one’s life, trying to find out if something, anything, had been said that she could cling to, a tiny message that maybe she alone might understand. But in Gerard’s case there had been nothing and gently Madison attempted to explain that.

‘Guy arrived,’ Madison said slowly, ‘but he was locked out. Gerard and I were on our way to meet him at Reception. We were just chatting about the day ahead, having a coffee before we started work. Gerard wasn’t in pain or anything, I had no idea what was about to happen.’ She watched Yvonne frown as she delivered the words and Madison knew that she had to be very gentle, that this short but vital conversation would stay with Yvonne for ever, that she needed to know every detail of her husband’s last moments. ‘I headed off to let the new consultant in and I thought Gerard was following me, only when I turned around I realized that he was in trouble, he had lost consciousness and was sliding to the floor. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t complain of any pain. I don’t think that Gerard suffered for even a second.’

‘And he never regained consciousness?’ Yvonne asked, frowning as Madison’s words sank in.

‘I’m sorry, no,’ Madison affirmed. ‘I started cardiac massage. Guy had seen what had happened and raced around to assist. He grabbed some vital equipment on the way and we both did everything we could to save your husband, but unfortunately there was nothing that could be done.’

‘He didn’t say anything?’ Yvonne checked. ‘He didn’t speak to Guy?’

‘No.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Yvonne snapped, her eyes angry now. ‘I need to know what was said, Madison!’

Madison now frowned, uncertain what Yvonne wanted to know. Initially she had assumed Yvonne was hoping for some tiny whisper from Gerard, a deathbed declaration, but as Madison stared back at the other woman she wasn’t sure what, if anything, Yvonne was hoping to hear. Checking herself, Madison forced the muscles in her face to relax, to wipe away her slightly perturbed frown, and, as she had learnt in counseling sessions with bereaved relatives, to let Yvonne lead the way.

‘You’re telling me,’ Yvonne finally continued when Madison remained silent, ‘that Gerard collapsed and died without a single word, that there was no exchange of words between him and you or Guy?’

‘None,’ Madison confirmed. ‘Yvonne, I wish I could say different, I wish that Gerard had had enough time to say what he wanted to, but the truth is he didn’t. I know at the moment that doesn’t give you much comfort, but in the days and weeks that follow maybe you’ll be able to draw some strength from the fact that Gerard truly didn’t suffer, that not for a single moment was he anything other than the vibrant man we all knew and loved.’

‘I do.’Yvonne nodded. ‘You’re right, Madison, I take a lot of comfort from that.’

Madison watched as Yvonne visibly relaxed, watched as her words sank in. She was slightly taken aback to see just how quickly those words appeared to take effect.

‘Thank you for your help, Madison, and for all you did for Gerard. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to make a few telephone calls. Could I trouble someone for a cup of coffee?’

‘Of course.’ Madison nodded. ‘I’ll arrange for a tray to be brought in to you.’

‘And would it be possible to have some headache tablets? I don’t have any in my bag.’

‘I’ll get you some now.’

Slightly bemused by Yvonne’s rather abrupt turnaround, Madison quietly left the room, closing the door gently behind her. She frowned as she did so, then gave herself a quick mental shake. It wasn’t for her to judge—she’d dealt with literally hundreds of bereaved relatives in her time and if she’d learnt one thing, it was that no two reactions were the same.

People grieved in their own way.

By the time Madison had given Yvonne two headache tablets and asked Vic if he would mind making Mrs Dalton a cup of coffee, preferably in a china cup if he could find one, her ten minutes were more than up. Grimacing as she glanced at her watch, she headed off to the waiting room, finally ready to address the staff and let them know what had taken place and the reason they had been ushered in for this impromptu meeting. It never entered her head that Guy would have already started, that by the time she arrived at the waiting-room entrance the news would already have been broken!

‘This has come as a huge shock to all of us, especially to those of you who have had the pleasure of working alongside Gerard over the years. However…’ He paused just long enough for the shocked chatter to stop, just long enough to shift the tone and command the room. ‘We have a department due to open in less than two hours and ambulances will be pulling into the bay in less than four, and that means I need some honesty from you guys. I need you to decide honestly whether or not you’re able to work. If not, go home.’

The brutality of his words had Madison inwardly wincing. She fought an impulse to walk right up and override him—how dared he swan in and demand peak efficiency? How dared he act as if nothing had really happened! But as Guy continued talking, she found herself listening instead, examining her own conscience as he eloquently continued.

‘There can be no excuses,’ Guy explained. ‘If you can’t do your job today then you’re welcome to leave with no further explanation. I’ll sign you off on compassionate leave with full pay. I don’t want to be staring at a pile of incident reports at the end of the day, I don’t want to hear that you were so upset about what happened that you gave the wrong drug or made an error of judgement, I don’t want to sit in the interview room with grieving relatives, knowing that their loved one didn’t receive the best possible care. Now, have a coffee and try to get your head around what’s happened, and then, those who are up for it, business as usual in fifteen minutes.’ For the first time in his speech his eyes met Madison’s. ‘Gerard Dalton wouldn’t expect anything less from any of you.’

‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ Shirley whispered. ‘Personally, I was all ready to close the department for the day, but what Guy says makes sense, doesn’t it?’

‘I guess.’ Madison shrugged, but her shoulders were so rigid with tension they barely moved. She watched as the staff swarmed around Guy, asking questions, seeking reassurance, turning to him. She hated herself for being so petty.

Guy had achieved in minutes what had taken her months to achieve.

He’d created a team.

As the crowd dispersed, Guy made his way over. ‘Well?’ Pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, Madison frowned up at him.

‘Well, what?’

‘Are you staying or going home?’

‘It was never my intention to go home,’ Madison responded through slightly gritted teeth. ‘I merely suggested that we delay opening the department for a day. However, on reflection, I can see it would be better to go ahead as planned.’

‘Good,’ Guy responded, and Madison couldn’t help feeling as if he’d won a battle she hadn’t even realised had been taking place.

‘Right!’ She gave a brisk smile. ‘I’d better go and check on Yvonne, and, given that the staff are all here and we’ll be opening shortly, you’ll be wanting to get changed.’

‘Changed?’ It was Guy frowning now.

‘You are the new consultant?’ Madison pretended to check, running a slightly dismissive eye over his jeans and T-shirt.

‘Oh.’ Guy let out relieved laugh and started to rummage in his pocket. Madison watched in horror as he pulled out an ID badge and hung it around his neck.

‘Thanks for reminding me!’

‘So how was your first day?’ Helen beamed, pulling open her front door and ushering Madison inside. ‘You must be exhausted.’

‘I am,’ Madison agreed, nodding gratefully as Helen held up the kettle. She collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. ‘How was Emily?’

‘Great,’ Helen answered brightly. ‘She didn’t miss you for a second! So? Don’t keep me in suspense—was it busy, any dramas on the first day?’

Madison was saved from answering by noisy five-year-old footsteps running in from the garden where Emily had been playing with Helen’s son. And with her first genuine smile for the last twelve hours lighting up her face, Madison scooped Emily up and hugged her fiercely for a moment.

‘Did you have a good day at school?’ A vague nod was Madison’s only answer, but from the bright stains all over her dress, clearly she’d been painting. And how about last night, were you good for Helen?’ A tiny guilty glance in Helen’s direction was followed by a beat of a pause. ‘Richard and me were talking until late, and Helen had to tell us to be quiet.’

‘Richard and I,’ Madison corrected, but Emily just frowned.

‘No, it was Richard and me who were talking.’

‘Well, next time you go to sleep when Helen tells you,’ Madison lightly scolded, smothering a smile at Emily’s response.

‘So how was your day?’ Emily asked. Her pretty rosebud mouth deftly changed the subject and for the first of a hundred times in any one day Madison could see Mark, Emily’s father, etched in every feature, from her winning smile and stunning looks right down to her ability to shift a subject from anything remotely serious. ‘Did anyone die?’ Emily asked, with all the tact of a five-year-old. ‘Did you look after any kids that were sick? Was the vending machine filled up in time for the hospital opening?’

‘Yes, yes, and yes,’ Madison answered, grateful that the only answer Emily was really interested in was the last one. The emergency waiting room’s vending machines held an in inordinate amount of fascination for Emily and many evenings were spent asking exactly how the empty racks were going to be filled, how the special ‘lady’ who stocked it when the waiting room was quiet was going to get her hand up through the tiny space at the bottom and fill all the slots. Madison hadn’t actually had the heart to tell her daughter that the ‘lady’ actually had a key that opened the glass door!

‘Here,’ Madison said, pulling two chocolate bars out of her bag, uncharacteristically not asking Helen if it was too close to dinner for Richard to have a treat. ‘I got you these from the vending machine. As it turns out, you were the first customer. Go and give one of these to Richard and play for ten minutes. I’ll call you in soon.’

‘What happened today?’ Helen asked as Emily scampered off, her voice filled with concern.

‘How do you know anything happened?’

‘Well, it’s the first time in living memory you’ve given the kids chocolate so close to dinner, and the first time you haven’t pulled out Emily’s homework diary to check that it had been filled in.’

‘Am I that predictable?’ Madison sighed.

‘Wonderfully so.’ Helen grinned, placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of Madison and waiting till she took a long grateful sip before resuming the conversation. ‘So what went down today?’

‘Gerard Dalton collapsed and died.’

There had been no easy way to say it, so Madison had just gone right ahead, nodding grimly at Helen’s shocked expression to confirm the terrible news. ‘We’d both arrived at work, there was no one else in the department and we were going over the day’s plans. He’d just made me a coffee…’ She gave a tiny ghost of a smile as Helen, with a rather startled look, promptly put down her own mug. ‘Sudden death isn’t catching, Helen!’

‘Sorry,’ Helen mumbled. ‘Go on.’

‘So, it was just the two of us in the department, the new consultant had arrived, but the emergency doors were closed and he was locked outside. We were going around to meet him when I realised Gerard wasn’t walking with me. I turned around and he’d collapsed.’

‘Did he say he had chest pain?’ Helen asked, clearly stunned but her medical brain trying to fathom out what had happened.

‘He said nothing.’ Madison blinked into her coffee. ‘Nothing. One minute we were chatting, and I headed off to go and the next I turned around and he was sliding onto the floor. Looking back on things, I think Gerard was actually dead before he hit the ground. He didn’t stand a chance.’

‘So what caused it?’

‘We don’t know yet.’ Madison gave an exasperated shrug. ‘There’ll be an autopsy, of course, but for now it could be anything—cerebral, cardiac or a PE maybe. For a moment there it looked as if it could be a ruptured aneurysm—he’d been complaining of mild back pain but, as I pointed out, he’d strained his back lifting a box the night before.’

‘You’d get a bit more warning with an aneurysm, you’d think,’ Helen pondered out loud. As a surgical nurse she’d seen her fair share. ‘I mean, he’d have been pale and sweaty, in some sort of distress.’

‘He was nothing like that,’ Madison said. ‘Given it’s Gerard, I’m sure the autopsy will take place very quickly and I’d expect we’d have some answers by tomorrow. Not that it’s going to help. You should have seen his poor wife and children, they were absolutely devastated. It came completely out of the blue. They’re such a close family.’

‘And you were there on your own?’ Helen gasped.

‘Only for a couple of moments,’ Madison corrected. ‘Like I said, the new consultant had arrived and even though he couldn’t get in straight away, he saw what was happening through the glass doors and raced around.’

‘Poor thing,’ Helen sighed. Madison was grateful for the coffee and sympathy, glad to peel off her shoes for five minutes and dunk a chocolate biscuit in her coffee. But when Helen continued talking, with a jolt Madison realised her sympathy hadn’t been aimed towards her. ‘It must have been awful for him. Imagine that happening on your first day!’

‘He seemed to deal with it all OK.’ Madison chewed her lip as she thought back over the day. ‘He just got on with it, I guess.’

‘Only because he had no choice,’ Helen pointed out. ‘Imagine starting a new job and your mentor and senior dropping dead. Poor thing, I bet it was all left for him to carry.’

‘Not all of it,’ Madison answered, but her response was a touch too quick, just a tad too defensive. As busy and as awful as her own day had been, for Guy it must have been far worse. Despite the fact the hospital was brand-new, they’d had a generous number of patients and Guy, with no senior on hand and no orientation day behind him, had had to deal with the lot. From critically ill patients to just the basics everyone encountered when they started a new job—such as where the loo was located, the coffee-mugs, the X-ray pads. It was the first time Madison had actually thought about it, the first time she had really taken stock and looked at the events from someone else’s perspective. A wave of guilt washed over her. Throughout the day, Guy had repeatedly asked her how she was bearing up, had even made her a cup of tea and bought her a sandwich from the machine at around two when he’d realised that she hadn’t eaten. And what had she done for him?

Precisely nothing!

‘Gosh.’ Helen blinked. ‘What a terrible start.’

‘It was.’ Madison grimaced. ‘I’m going to try and not think about it, at least until I’ve got Emily into bed.’

‘Good idea,’ Helen agreed sympathetically. ‘Switch that brain off for a couple of hours—it must have been an exhausting day. Do you want to stay here for dinner?’

Madison was about to say no, to shake her head and call for Emily to collect her things, but the prospect of going home, of pulling one of many frozen casseroles out of the freezer and attempting to be normal after the day she’d had, had Madison changing her shake to a nod.

‘That would be great, if you’re sure you don’t mind.’

‘Mind? Life’s so much easier when Richard’s got someone to play with. And, before you ask, despite Emily’s guilty look, she was actually a delight last night. They were both asleep by eight.’

‘Good.’ Madison gave a relieved smile, then chewed her lip nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘Helen? Given what’s happened today, I actually can’t see me managing to get away on time for a while.’ Madison gave a guilty shuffle in her seat, which Helen easily interpreted.

‘Don’t worry if you’re late home over the next couple of weeks, it doesn’t matter a scrap. You were always going to be busy, with the department opening, and with what’s just happened you can hardly be expected to just walk out at three-thirty!”

‘You don’t mind?’ Madison checked, relief flooding her.

They had an arrangement with childcare that only two women could have engineered or understood. Both were single parents, both lived in the same street, both were nurses, which meant guilt heaped upon guilt, trying to juggle work and motherhood. Two years ago, moaning over their questionable cappuccinos, courtesy of the canteen’s new machine, they had come to a tentative agreement. Madison dropped Emily off at seven each morning, leaving Helen to give her breakfast and do the school run, as well as picking Emily up from school. Madison’s shifts normally finished at three-thirty but as a NUM her work hours were as close to nine to five as nursing got, and even when she’d worked at her old hospital, which was further away, more often than not Madison’s car had pulled into Helen’s drive only a moment or two after Helen’s. But it was great to know that Emily was taken care of and not to have to rush away from work if the situation dictated that she stay. In return for Helen doing the school run, Madison had Richard to sleep over one night a week to enable Helen to do a night shift—or a ‘sanity shift’, as Helen called it.

And two years in, despite Madison moving to the new hospital, despite the occasional hiccup when one of them was sick, somehow the system they had created that long-ago morning still stood strong.

‘I don’t a mind a bit if you’re late for a couple of weeks,’ Helen carried, her voice a touch higher as she asked for a favour of her own. ‘Actually, it will make me feel less guilty, asking you for a favour! I need a babysitter on Friday night.’

‘Are you doing an extra “sanity shift”?’ Madison grinned. ‘Sure, no problem. I’d be happy to have him. We can both be guilt-free about dumping on each other.’

‘Not me, I’m afraid. Guilt’s going to be my best friend for the next few days.’ Helen winced, then, screwing her eyes closed, she blurted out the last four words Madison had expected to hear.

‘I’ve got a date!’

‘Oh!’ Madison blinked. ‘With a man?’

‘No,’ Helen answered, with her tongue firmly in her cheek. ‘With a hot-looking lesbian I met. Of course with a man!’

‘I’m sorry.’ Madison gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I had no idea you were seeing anyone.’

‘I’m not—at least not yet. It’s our first date and if I ask Mum to babysit she’s going to read a million and one things into it. It’s just easier not to say anything at this stage.’

‘So, what’s he like?’ Madison asked. ‘How did you meet him?’

At the school playground, of all places.’ Helen giggled. ‘He’s a single dad. He just moved to the area. His wife died. Ages ago,’ Helen added hastily. ‘So he’s got no baggage.’

‘My husband died ages ago,’ Madison reminded her, ‘and I’m still paying excess.’

‘But you’re so-o complicated,’ Helen teased.

‘If you’re over thirty, you’ve got baggage,’ Madison said dryly. ‘So, does this single dad with zero baggage have a name?’

‘Matthew.’

‘A job?’

‘He’s a carpenter.’

‘How many kids?’

‘One.’ Helen gave a tiny shudder. ‘Thank God. Imagine if he had triplets?’

‘Perish the thought,’ Madison said, pulling a face. ‘So where’s your man taking you?’

‘I don’t know.’ Helen beamed. ‘He just said to wear smart-casual.’

‘Which could mean anything,’ Madison warned. ‘You should have seen what Guy turned up in today. Jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt. And when I told him to get changed, all he did was put on a name badge.’ To her utter indignation Helen started to laugh. ‘It’s not funny,’ Madison snapped.

‘Oh, but it is.’ Helen giggled. ‘Given what a stickler you are for uniforms!’

‘I am not,’ Madison replied hotly. ‘I just like to look smart.’ Helen raised a very knowing eyebrow, which Madison badly wanted to ignore but found she couldn’t. ‘It makes the patients feel more secure to see a well-presented staff member. A doctor rocking up to the bedside in jeans hardly inspires confidence.’

‘Well, if I were a patient, I wouldn’t give a damn what the doctor was wearing,’ Helen mused. ‘So long as he knew what he was doing and could actually manage to look me in the eye and talk to me on occasions. There are plenty of doctors in thousand-dollar suits with the most appalling bedside manner.’

‘Perhaps,’ Madison reluctantly conceded.

‘Is he good-looking?’ Helen asked, and Madison wished she hadn’t. In fact, she dearly wanted this conversation to be over.

‘I guess,’ Madison answered tartly. ‘If you like the “just got out of bed and bypassed the shower” look.’

‘Oh, but I do.’ Helen giggled. ‘Is he single?’

‘I didn’t ask.’ Madison bristled. ‘But from what Gerard told me, I’d assume so. He’s completely irresponsible—apparently he’d only commit to six months with the department.’

‘Hardly a hanging offence,’ Helen said laughingly, but Madison didn’t join in.

‘Gerard told me that when he appointed him, Guy had spent most of his medical career travelling the world, gaining experience. Which is fine and everything, but it hardly paints him as the most reliable of men!’

‘He must be rich, though, if he can afford to turn down a decent job.’

‘Money isn’t everything,’ Madison said tartly.

‘He sounds perfectly lovely,’ Helen sighed. ‘Maybe we can double date.’

‘I’m fully booked this century,’ Madison snapped. And given Helen wasn’t going to move, she made herself busy, slicing cucumber for the salad and putting on a pan of water for the rice. Even though the conversation had ended a good couple of minutes ago, Madison found herself reviving it. ‘Believe me, Guy Boyd would be the last person I’d date.’

‘Perhaps.’ Helen smiled, not rising to Madison’s rather brittle tone. ‘But have you ever thought of getting back out there?’

‘Out where?’ Madison asked, knowing perfectly well what Helen meant but deliberately stalling her.

‘Dating, Madison,’ Helen said. ‘It’s been five years since Mark died…’

‘And it’s taken me nearly all of them to get back on my feet,’ Madison pointed out. ‘I used the words “free spirit” affectionately when I first met Mark,’ Madison said. ‘I thought it was fun to follow your heart, live for today. I really believed Mark when he said that tomorrow would take care of itself. But unlike Mark, having a baby made me grow up, having a baby meant that I did start thinking about tomorrow…’

‘Madison, I know you’ve been hurt…’ Standing up, Helen checked the door was closed. ‘Heaven knows, you’ve got every reason to be wary, but there are some good guys out there.’

‘How do you know that?’ Madison’s words were as confused as they were angry. ‘I’m doing OK. Emily and I are doing just fine by ourselves!’ She shook her head, not at all ready to go there after such an emotionally charged day. ‘Can we drop it?’

‘Sure,’ Helen said kindly, but her tiny sigh told Madison that she’d have loved to have carried on with the conversation, would have loved to have pushed a little more. After a moment’s hesitation, a moment to wait and see if Madison was going to add anything further, Helen gave in and headed over to the fridge. She pulled out some chicken, chatting about something Richard had said to Emily. But as grateful as Madison was for the change of subject, inside she felt jolted and uneasy, and it wasn’t just to do with Gerard’s death but with the pace of her own life. The fact that Helen, after the appalling marriage she’d been through, after swearing off men for the next century at least, could even contemplate taking up the baton and resuming the race was beyond Madison’s comprehension.

Helen was moving on with her life, suggesting even that Madison do the same.

Only she truly wasn’t ready.

CHAPTER THREE

‘IT’S sports uniform today!’ Emily said accusingly as she eyed her uniform, crisply laid out on the sofa.

‘Which is what I’ve put out for you,’ Madison answered, depositing a glass of fruit juice on the coffee-table for her daughter. She started applying her foundation as she made a speedy exit towards the bathroom.

‘You gave me stripy socks!’ Emily’s words stopped Madison in her tracks, her un-mascara’d eyelashes blinking at the simple but unusual mistake. ‘They have to be plain white socks, but these have got a red stripe around the top!’

‘Then I’ll get you some plain white ones,’ Madison answered, annoyed at herself for that simple slip-up. The morning routine was usually written in stone, but the morning wasn’t normally preceded by a fitful night spent tossing and turning. To Madison’s shame, it hadn’t just been Gerard’s sudden death that had kept her staring at the ceiling into the small hours, but Helen’s rather pointed comments. Despite the irrefutable evidence, Madison resisted the thought—was it the very new, very inappropriate consultant who had caused her sudden brush with insomnia?

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