About the Authors

Cursed from an early age with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. After completing her degree in English Literature she indulged her love of romantic fiction and spent a long, hot summer writing a book of her own. It was duly rejected and life took over.

A series of U-turns led in the unlikely direction of a career in computing and information technology, but the lure of the printed page proved too much to bear, and she now has the perfect outlet for the stories which have always run through her head, writing Medical Romance for Mills & Boon.

A lifelong reader of most genres, LOUISA GEORGE discovered romance novels later than most, but immediately fell in love with the intensity of emotion, the high drama and the family focus of Mills & Boon Medical Romance.

An English ex-pat, Louisa now lives north of Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, two teenage sons and two male cats. Writing romance is her opportunity to covertly inject a hefty dose of pink into her heavily testosteronedominated household.

AMY ANDREWS has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs.

Hot Single Docs: Blinded by the Boss

200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon

Annie Claydon

200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick

Louisa George

200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero

Amy Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08565-6

Hot Single Docs: Blinded by the Boss

200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon © 2014 Harlequin Books S.A 200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick © 2014 Harlequin Books S.A 200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero © 2014 Harlequin Books S.A

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon

Annie Claydon

When opposites attract…!

Edward North—child prodigy turned genius microsurgeon—has no idea how attractive women find him! Hours spent researching and saving lives leaves him little time for socializing. Until an adorable little boy wanders into his office, followed by his frantic mom, nurse Charlotte King, and they turn his world upside-down!

Charlotte’s never allowed herself to act on her feelings for devastatingly gorgeous Edward—her life is complicated enough! But when everything begins to fall apart, this enigmatic surgeon is the only man she can turn to….

To the ladies who lunch, Yve, Nicky and Vicki.

CHAPTER ONE

‘SO WHICH IS it, then?’

‘Eh?’ Charlotte King was busy trying not to notice that Edward North was currently going through his pockets to find the key to his office, and she had lost the thread of the conversation that was going on around the nurses’ station.

‘Which do you think? Secret love-life, or no love-life?’ Paula craned across the desk to get a better view. ‘Wonder if he needs a hand with that?’

Charlotte swallowed a laugh. ‘What? You know where he’s left his keys?’

‘No. But I’m really good at finding things.’ Paula’s smile left no doubt that she was contemplating a thorough investigation and possibly a body search.

‘Too late. He’s got them.’ Allie grinned at Paula. ‘And I reckon he’s got a secret mistress somewhere.’

‘When does he get to see her? In between here and the hospital, I’d be surprised if he has much time for anything else.’

‘He has time to swim.’ Allie’s blue eyes flashed mischievously.

‘Yeah?’ Paula’s attention was on Allie now.

‘Mmm-hmm. I left my trainers downstairs in the gym the other day and went to fetch them after work. He was in the pool, doing laps.’

‘Hmm. Perhaps I’ll go buy myself a swimming costume. Common interests can be very important in a relationship.’

‘So you’ve thought this through, then?’ Charlotte wished that Paula and Allie would keep their voices down. Not that the nurses were in any danger of being heard. It was difficult enough to get Edward’s attention even when he was supposed to be listening to you. It just seemed somehow wrong to be talking like this.

‘Who hasn’t? I reckon he just needs a good woman. And I’ll apply for the position if no one else is interested.’

Allie laughed. ‘Steady, Paula. Remember there’s a queue and I’m in it. Charlotte, too, eh?’

Charlotte considered the prospect. She couldn’t get away with a lie that big. ‘Yeah, okay. Just to keep you two company, though. I don’t have time for dating.’

Or the money. Or the inclination, most of the time. Apart from when Edward... Her gaze wandered over to the glazed wall of his office. He was behind his desk now, deep in thought, a stack of papers and books in front of him.

‘Yeah, right.’ Paula was laughing now. ‘Guess we could share him around.’

Oh, no. Edward wasn’t for sharing. He was for being loved, nurtured by one woman, not passed around like a beautifully wrapped, enormously sexy parcel. He looked up, as if somehow the thought had penetrated the walls of his office, his eyes suddenly focussing in Charlotte’s direction.

She could feel the flush spreading up from the back of her neck to her cheeks. Edward might be for one woman, but that woman definitely wasn’t her.

Charlotte turned, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just caught her staring at him. ‘I’ll leave you to do that. I’ve got to do my last ward round and my friend is bringing Isaac here soon.’

‘Really?’ Paula always made a particular fuss of Isaac. ‘What do we owe that pleasure to?’

‘There’s no school today and my friend’s been looking after him. Lucy’s got a date tonight so she’s dropping him off here before she goes on to hit the town. If you see them, will you get them to wait here?’

Paula nodded. ‘Sure thing. Take your time.’

* * *

Edward North had just got to the complex part. Not that tomorrow’s microsurgery wasn’t all complex, but this particular section was intricate in the extreme. Running through it in his head was his preferred method of preparation, and the swimming pool in the basement of the Hunter Clinic his preferred place. Working his body seemed to free his mind, but he couldn’t be assured of solitude until the clinic was closed for the day, so his office was going to have to do.

‘No. Not like that...’ He shook his head, muttering in disgust at his own ineptitude. He’d have to start over now. Or at least from the last set of microscopic sutures. Edward took a breath, cleared his mind, and...

The image that floated into his mind was nothing like the one he was concentrating on building. Pale chestnut hair, bound in a tight knot at the back of her head. Light brown eyes. He couldn’t see the flecks of gold from this distance, but he knew that they were there. Somehow Charlotte’s eyes had impressed themselves on his consciousness when he had difficulty in recalling the names, let alone the eye colour, of most of the rest of the nursing staff.

She’d looked away, then. Blushing.

The exact mechanics of that particular form of vasodilation was child’s play alongside the complexities of its causes. Most things were. Edward closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and went back to the matter in hand.

* * *

Lucy was already standing at the nurses’ station when Charlotte returned from her ward round.

‘Hey, Lucy, you look nice. I won’t be a minute. I’ve just got to pick up my coat.’ Charlotte looked around. Just one glimpse of her son after a long day was always enough to lift her spirits.

‘Sure. Why don’t you leave Isaac here with me?’

‘Isn’t he with you?’

‘No. He ran ahead up the stairs. I called after him to wait for you here...’

For one split second the two women stared at each other. Charlotte almost choked as something squeezed tight around her heart, and then instinct and the sure knowledge that she needed to move now took over.

‘Go downstairs, Lucy. Make sure he’s not slipped out of the building. I’ll look for him here.’

She glanced over in the direction of Edward’s office. The view inside was partially obscured by a long, low cabinet, running the length of the glass wall and designed to keep the mess of books and other artefacts under some semblance of control, but she could see that he was no longer sitting at his desk. Not that he’d probably notice if a whole horde of five-year-olds started roaming the corridors, but he’d been the only one there and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Isaac shouldn’t have gone into any of the treatment rooms. He knew not to do that. All the same she looked, trying not to panic, trying not to cry. Allie hadn’t seen him and neither had Paula. She opened every cupboard, every locked door, just in case. And each time her baby wasn’t there the agitation in the pit of her stomach grew.

‘The receptionist says that he can’t have got out of the building. He would have had to have either opened one of the back doors, and they’re all alarmed, or gone straight past her.’ Lucy arrived back upstairs, red and breathless.

That was something, at least. Mind you, there was plenty of trouble right here that a five-year-old could get into. The swimming pool... Charlotte remembered the swimming pool in the basement and felt suddenly sick.

‘I’ll call Security...’ She grabbed for the phone and then dropped it. Either she was hearing things, or...

Isaac laughed again. That was definitely not a hallucination.

Lucy had heard it, too. ‘Where is he?’ Lucy looked around wildly.

Another laugh. This time deep, round and rich. The kind of laugh that Edward might have, only Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever heard him laugh. Wordlessly she swung round and marched towards the door of Edward’s office, opening it without bothering to knock.

For a moment, in the relief of seeing that Isaac was safe, she didn’t register the scene in front of her. Somehow she noticed that Isaac’s favourite toy, the blue bunny that he carried with him everywhere, was sitting in Edward’s black leather chair, and that Edward was on the floor.

‘Isaac!’ Charlotte gulped out his name. ‘What are you doing?’

Her son looked up at her. Innocent blue eyes and dark blond hair framed the sweet smile which never failed to dissolve her anger and dispel her fears.

‘Hi, Mum. I’m making water.’ He picked up a small red ball from the box in front of him. ‘Look, you take one red one. That’s...’

‘Um...oxygen.’ Edward got to his feet quickly, facing Charlotte with a slightly abashed air. ‘So you’re Isaac’s mother?’

‘Yes.’ She ducked around Edward. She could deal with him later. ‘Isaac, come here, please.’

‘But, Mum, I haven’t shown you. Look...’

‘We mustn’t bother Mr North any more, sweetie. Where did you get that from?’ She looked at the molecule model kit in front of him on the floor. It looked like a great toy and she wished she could afford something like it for Isaac, even if he was a bit young for it at the moment.

‘It’s Edward’s.’ Isaac shot a pleading look up at his new friend, who ignored him completely and sat down in his chair, remembering just in time to pull the blue bunny out from under him before it got squashed. He proffered it to Isaac and when he didn’t show any inclination to take it propped it up against the phone.

It had been a long week, and Charlotte had just about had enough. You could only take so many small crises, each one popping up hard on the heels of the last, before life became one big crisis.

‘Then put everything back in the box and say thank you to Edward. We’ve got to get home.’ Hopefully she could get out of here before the temptation to tear Edward off a strip became too great. Didn’t he realise that someone would be looking for the stray five-year-old who had wandered into his office?

Isaac shot her a look which left her in no doubt that he wasn’t in agreement with that decision, but complied anyway. One down, one to go. Charlotte turned to Edward, who was arranging the blue bunny into a crossed-legs, hands-behind-the-head posture which gave the impression that he was leaning back against the phone, sunbathing.

‘I’m sorry he...interrupted you. We’ll be going home...’

The sheer force of his gaze stopped her. Thoughtful. Intensely blue. And at this moment tainted with an uncertainty that was unlike Edward.

‘Were you looking for him?’

‘Yes. But it’s all right, he’s here...’ Charlotte just wanted to hug Isaac. As soon as she got out of Edward’s office that was the first thing she planned to do.

‘I should have let you know he was here.’

He’d recovered himself now. Whatever emotion he did or didn’t feel was locked away somewhere, no one’s business but his own.

‘That’s okay. I’ve found him now...’ She was shaking. So tired that she was almost in tears. All she wanted to do was get home. ‘Isaac, will you give Edward the box back, please?’

Isaac seemed to have got over his disappointment and carefully collected up the box and laid it on Edward’s desk. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Edward gave Isaac a guarded half-smile and a little formal nod and her son copied the expression in return. ‘Don’t forget... What’s his name?’

‘Stinky.’

Edward raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, don’t forget Stinky, then.’

He looked up at Charlotte and she tried for a smile.

‘Will you stay a moment, please, Charlotte?’

This was the last thing she needed right now. She knew that Isaac shouldn’t have been running around the clinic on his own. Edward didn’t need to tell her that, and it went without saying that it wouldn’t happen again. ‘Isaac, will you go and sit with Lucy, please? Just for a minute.’ She pointed to the patients’ seating area outside.

‘Here.’ Edward leaned forward, towards the boy, proffering a handful of change. ‘Get something for yourself and Lucy from the vending machine. D’you think Stinky wants anything?’

‘No, he doesn’t. He’s not a real rabbit, you know.’

‘Of course not. Well, something for you and Lucy then...’

Charlotte was about to stop Isaac from taking the money, but Edward had already put a selection of coins into his hand and Isaac was halfway towards the door. At least he remembered to thank Edward. She straightened herself and prepared for the dressing down that was coming.

‘I’m sorry, Charlotte.’

‘Eh...?’

‘You must have been worried when you couldn’t find Isaac.’

Worried? Frantic, more like. ‘I...I’m sorry he bothered you.’

‘He was no trouble. He seems to like molecules...’ Edward almost smiled and then thought better of it. Too bad. In that brief moment his eyes had seemed bluer, and his dark good looks less brooding.

‘He’s only five. He likes putting things together and taking them apart again...’ The rush of relief at finding Isaac had left her feeling like a limp dishcloth. And now this. Instinctively Charlotte put one hand to her brow, as if to shade herself from the intensity of those blue eyes which seemed to hold so much that was unsaid.

‘Hey. What’s this?’

He was on his feet, his hands on her shoulders. Edward had the worst timing of any man she’d ever known, bar none. Of all the times to choose to be kind, this was the one most likely to reduce her to tears.

‘Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m okay.’ She tried to avoid his gaze.

‘Clearly you’re not.’

There was a note of tenderness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. Something warm about the arm which wound around her shoulder. Something about his scent that made her instinctively sink into him, even though she knew that this was probably one of the worst ideas she’d ever had in her life.

Under the crisp white shirt there was some serious musculature. Strong arms, and a flat, hard stomach. For the second time in the last few minutes the swimming pool flashed into Charlotte’s head, but this time the image was considerably more inviting.

‘I’m okay...’ Charlotte thought about pushing him away and then decided that putting her hands anywhere near him would be far too much of a temptation. ‘Really. I’m fine.’

He seemed to feel it, too. He stepped back quickly, almost as if she’d burnt him, and turned towards his desk. ‘If there’s anything that’s bothering you, you should let someone know.’ He thought for a moment, obviously considering himself an unlikely candidate for any kind of emotional disclosure. ‘Lizzie, perhaps...I’m sure she’d be able to do...whatever’s needed.’

Edward had switched back into professional mode and the relief was almost palpable. ‘No. There’s nothing. I just had a bit of a scare when I couldn’t find Isaac...’ She bit her words back. Nothing like blaming the very person who had just tried to help her.

‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

That was supposed to be her line. She smiled up at him, wishing that she could smooth some of the creases on his brow. ‘It’s okay. He’s safe, and that’s all that matters. I’m sorry he disturbed you. He knows he mustn’t wander around here.’

‘That’s all right. It was nice to talk to him.’ He gestured stiffly towards the molecule model kit. ‘His approach is refreshingly creative, compared with most.’

Was that a joke? It was difficult to tell with Edward, but the possibility intrigued Charlotte. She could see Lucy and Isaac out of the corner of her eye, settling themselves down on the sofa with their drinks. They’d be at least another five minutes, and hadn’t Paula always said that Charlotte only needed five minutes to get anyone to open up?

‘What’s it for? If you don’t mind my asking?’

‘You can use it for anything. I’m thinking of DNA sequencing.’ The way he brushed off the question almost made her believe that everyone had a model of a DNA sequence somewhere in their office.

‘Ah. Right. Anyone in particular?’

‘Mine, actually. Just a snippet of it, of course. But don’t you think there’s something rather interesting about actually being able to look at something that’s the very basis of your own make-up?’

‘I’d never really thought about it.’ Now he mentioned it, there was. There was an obscure symmetry about the concept that made her smile, even if she didn’t properly understand it.

‘You should. It would be interesting for Isaac...’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Perhaps when he’s a bit older.’

‘Yes, I think so. Is that all?’ She should go now. She’d managed to stem her tears for the moment, but who knew how long that particular dam was going to hold? Hopefully until after Isaac was safely tucked up in bed.

‘Are you going home? I’m going your way. I’ll give you a lift. The buses are horrible at this time of day—’ He broke off, as if he’d let something slip that he shouldn’t.

How did he know she took the bus home? And how did he know which way she went? Charlotte stared at him.

‘I’ve seen you waiting at the two-three-nine bus stop. And the two-three-nine goes almost directly along my route home. Of course you could be catching the number thirteen, but most people who do that walk down to the Oxford Circus stop, so they can get a seat—’ He broke off again, obviously wondering whether that was too much information.

‘Right. Next time I want to know which bus to take, I’ll know who to ask.’ She grinned at him. ‘But it’s okay, really. You must still have work to do and we’ll be going in a minute.’

He shrugged. ‘I was operating at six this morning, I should have been gone hours ago. And... You look tired.’

Perhaps Edward noticed more than everyone thought.

There was no perhaps about it. He clearly did. Somewhere inside a smile formed at the thought that some of those things were connected with her.

‘We...we can’t. Isaac needs a proper car seat...’ It was a pity. The buses were always packed on a Friday evening and she could have done with a ride home.

‘No problem. I have one fitted in my car.’

Something told Charlotte that Edward had worked all of this through before he’d even made the offer. The complex equation balanced two shopping bags, one child and an indeterminate number of full buses, crawling through the traffic, against one child seat, a comfortable car and a lift home. He probably already knew what she was about to say.

She smiled, wondering whether he’d factored that in or not. ‘Okay. If it’s no trouble. Thanks.’

CHAPTER TWO

EDWARD GAVE NO explanation for the brand-new child’s car seat when he opened the back door of his sleek dark blue car and waved Isaac inside. Perhaps the girls at work were right. Perhaps he did have a woman somewhere. A woman with a child. So much for Paula’s assertions that it couldn’t hurt to try to breach Edward’s reserve.

All the same, there was nothing wrong with taking a lift from him, and Charlotte couldn’t deny that this was a great deal nicer than the bus. Not having to continually grab at her bags to get them out of the way of someone else’s feet. Isaac safely strapped in behind her, with Stinky on his lap. Leather seats. The quiet strains of music floating at her from four different directions. She began to relax.

‘It would be more convenient for you to drive to work.’

As they passed Regent’s Park Edward’s customary forthrightness broke the silence.

‘Yeah. More expensive, too.’ She grinned at him. ‘Congestion charge, parking costs.’

He nodded. ‘I thought you were going to say you liked the bus.’

‘It’s not so bad. You meet a lot of interesting people on buses.’

‘So it’s a social experiment, then?’

Maybe for Edward. It was a matter of necessity for Charlotte. ‘You could call it that. We like it on the top deck, don’t we, Isaac?’

‘Yeah. You can see into people’s windows,’ Isaac piped up from the back seat.

‘Can you?’ Edward paused for thought. ‘What do you see?’

‘Christmas trees.’

‘In July?’

‘No, at Christmas.’ Isaac’s voice took on the tone of patient explanation that he sometimes used with adults. ‘We counted how many Christmas trees we could see on the way home.’

‘So you’re a mathematician. Is that why you’re called Isaac? After Isaac Newton?’

Isaac seemed to have succeeded where the combined talents of the Hunter Clinic had failed. That was definitely a joke, even if Isaac didn’t appear to understand it.

‘Who?’

Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘He’s five, Edward.’

He nodded. ‘So you’re keeping Newton for later.’ He made it sound like leaving the best chocolate in the box until last. He raised his voice, speaking to Isaac again. ‘So how many Christmas trees did you count?’

‘A million.’

‘Really? You live on the moon?’ Edward’s lips twitched and Isaac cackled with laughter. Although neither seemed to be quite on the same intellectual wavelength, they clearly shared the same sense of humour.

‘Noooo. Kentish Town.’

‘That explains it, then. Are you sure you didn’t count any of them twice?’

Isaac shrugged. ‘Maybe. It might have been a hundred.’

It seemed so natural to laugh with them. The obvious thing to do. ‘It was three hundred and forty-nine, wasn’t it, Isaac?’

‘That’s right. Three hundred and forty-nine.’

Edward nodded. ‘Impressive. That’s a prime number, you know.’

‘What’s a prime number?’

Edward shot a helpless glance at Charlotte and she shrugged. All of a sudden this quiet, reserved man had become almost talkative, and against her better judgement she actually wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

‘It’s...um...it’s a very special number. There are lots of them. I dare say they’ll teach you about that at school.’

‘When?’

‘Er... Pretty soon, I imagine. Ask your teacher.’

‘Okay.’

Lucky escape. Charlotte mouthed the words at him and he raised one eyebrow, as if he’d been in complete control all along.

‘How many are there?’

She saw the line of Edward’s jaw stiffen as it became apparent that she had spoken too soon.

‘More than you can count. Even if you ride on the bus all day. The first prime number is two. Then five...’

By the time he’d worked his way up to twenty-nine and shown no signs of flagging Charlotte decided to step in. At this rate they could be driving to Birmingham and back before either Isaac went to sleep or Edward got to the point where he could no longer work out the next prime number in his head.

She turned in her seat to face Isaac. ‘Edward’s got to stop counting now, sweetie, because he’s driving and has to keep his eye on the road. I’ll explain all about prime numbers when we get home.’

‘Okay.’

* * *

It was nice having her in the car. She smelled good—like soap and roses. Rose soap, maybe. Edward ran through all the possibilities in his head and surprised himself with how delicious each of them was.

She didn’t just smell nice; she was nice. Whenever he saw her with the clinic’s clients she was always the same. Gentle, reassuring, and yet with a hint of fun about her. She made people smile. But Edward couldn’t help but think there was more. When he’d seen her at the bus stop the other day, huddled under her umbrella in the pouring rain, there had been a defeated slant to her shoulders that had made him want to stop, but his nerve had failed him. Getting involved with people wasn’t what Edward did.

‘You must like jazz?’ She was stretching her legs out in front of her. Smiling.

‘Very much,’ he said. ‘You?’

‘I don’t really know. I’ve not listened to much. I like this.’

‘Good.’ He could have left it at that. Would normally have left it at that. But against his better judgement he wanted to prolong the conversation. ‘Most people just automatically say they love jazz, irrespective of whether they’ve listened to any.’

She gave a little laughing nod, as if she knew just what he meant. ‘It’s one of those things that you’re meant to like, isn’t it? I mean if you admit to not knowing much about jazz, then it’s like owning up to being some kind of barbarian.’

‘I don’t think you’re a barbarian.’ He thought she was a damn sight more honest that most people.

He was rewarded with one of the smiles that she was so free with. This one seemed just for him. ‘That’s all right, then.’

Charlotte asked him to drop them in the High Street, but when Edward insisted on taking her all the way home she directed him to a quiet backstreet. Small houses—many of them shabby and unkempt. He parked outside a house with a neat front garden. The front door badly needed a paint job. Charlotte jumped out of the car, unbuckling Isaac’s seat belt while Edward took her shopping bags out of the boot.

‘Can I carry these in for you?’

‘No. No, that’s okay, thank you. Thanks for the lift.’ She picked the bags up with one hand and took Isaac’s hand with the other. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’

‘Bye, Edward. Thank you...’

She shot a glance of approbation in her son’s direction and then turned away. Suddenly it seemed that she couldn’t get rid of him fast enough and a vague feeling of disappointment nudged at him.

‘Bye, Isaac. Nice to meet you...’

The boy twisted his head around as his mother marched him away, and gave him a grin, but Charlotte seemed caught up with her shopping bags. There was nothing to keep him so Edward got back into his car. As he turned in the road he noticed in his rearview mirror that the front gate was sticking and that she was struggling with it. He almost stopped the car and got out again, but then she kicked it and it snapped open, and she walked up the front path without looking back.

* * *

Charlotte slammed the front door closed behind her and dropped her shopping, leaning back against the door. Home. Half of her wished she was still in Edward’s car and that they really had been driving to Birmingham and back. Newcastle, even. The other half was glad that he was gone before he’d had a chance to see the threadbare carpet in the hall and the second-hand furniture in her sitting room.

‘Is Edward your boss, Mum?’

‘He’s a surgeon. At the clinic.’

‘So he makes people well? Like you do?’

‘Yes, darling.’

Isaac nodded. ‘He’s nice’

Charlotte found herself smiling again. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ She picked up her shopping bags. ‘Now, let’s see what we’ve got for supper, shall we?’

* * *

It was only a short drive from Edward’s house back to Charlotte’s, but it was like travelling from one world to another. The trendy shops and cafés gave way to houses which seemed even more run-down than they had yesterday evening, and when he drove slowly along Charlotte’s road it didn’t seem any more salubrious than the last time he’d been here.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have come. At ten o’clock on a Saturday morning she could be out, or having a lie-in...anything. But he was here now, with Stinky sitting next to him on the front passenger seat. If she wasn’t there, then maybe Stinky would fit through the letterbox.

Cars lined the pavement, and he had to drive past her house to find a parking spot. As he did so he caught a glimpse of her on the doorstep, between the broad backs of two men who seemed to be crowding close in on her. What he could see of her stiff, upright frame, screamed that there was something wrong.

Edward accelerated into a free space. ‘Don’t move, Stinky. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He lunged out of the car, and down the road, to where her front gate stood open.

‘Charlotte!’ Now that he was closer he was sure that he was right. She was dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt, bare feet on the doorstep, but she stood as tall as she could, the door almost closed behind her, her face fierce and determined. ‘What’s going on?’

She stared at him as if he’d just landed from another planet. One of the men swung round to face Edward, his pudgy face harsh. ‘Nothing to concern you, sir. Just a bit of business with the lady.’

Her face had flushed bright red. Tears rimmed her eyes, before she quickly brushed them away. These guys were bad news. They stank of the kind of aggression which dressed itself up in cheap suits and a nasty attitude.

‘Then you have business with me.’ Edward pushed in between them and stood next to her on the step. He wanted to put his arm around her, ask her if she was all right, but this wasn’t the time. ‘Step back. Now.’

They stepped back. The anger that was raging in his chest must have been showing in his face, because the expression on the face of the larger of the two became slightly less belligerent. Edward pressed his advantage. ‘Now, what’s all this about?’

‘Are you this lady’s husband, sir?’

‘I’m her legal advisor.’ Suddenly Edward was mightily glad that he’d left Stinky in the car. This was rapidly beginning to look like a confrontation of some sort, and holding a battered blue rabbit in his hand wouldn’t have helped.

He felt Charlotte’s fingers on his arm. ‘No, Edward. Please.’ Her voice was almost a whisper.

If she wanted him to go, she had another think coming. Edward didn’t shift his gaze from the two men. ‘Who are you? Do you have some identification?’

One of the men reached slowly into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out a wallet. Opening it, he held it out for Edward to see.

Debt collectors. What had Charlotte got herself into? No time for that now. A child’s whimper sounded from the other side of the door and he felt Charlotte’s small, convulsive movement against his arm. ‘Go inside, please, Charlotte. Close the door.’

She looked up at him. Cheeks pink, her lovely eyes still brimming with tears. She hesitated, obviously torn between going to comfort her son and dealing with the men on her doorstep.

‘Go and make sure Isaac’s okay.’ He spoke gently to her and she nodded quickly, disappearing inside the house.

One down, two to go.

He turned to the two men. ‘I assume you’re not in possession of a court order with regards to this property?’

‘No, sir.’ Somehow the man made that sound like a threat.

‘In that case I’m asking you to leave now. I’ll speak to you when you’re standing on the pavement.’

The men exchanged a look. Obviously they considered that browbeating him was a different matter from a lone woman and a child, and Edward didn’t bother to conceal his disgust as they turned and took their time in walking down the path.

‘There is the matter of an unpaid debt, ma’am.’

Edward looked round and saw Charlotte back in the doorway, pulling a pair of sneakers on. She must have settled Isaac and come back out again.

‘You don’t speak to her. If you’ve something to say, then say it to me.’ Edward had just appointed himself, unasked, into the role of protector, but he didn’t care. No one else was around to do it.

‘I need to speak to the lady.’ The man’s voice suddenly became gentle. He’d seen a way in and was trying for it. Be nice to her, then divide and conquer.

Edward looked round at Charlotte. It was one thing to expect her to go along with his instructions at the clinic, but here... Here she had Isaac to think of, and she wasn’t going to give that responsibility away too easily.

‘You can speak to my...’ She walked down the path and stood next to him. ‘My legal advisor.’

The man pressed his lips together. ‘In that case...’ He turned to Edward. ‘We’re looking for this lady’s husband. We have reason to believe he’s here—’

‘He isn’t,’ Charlotte broke in vehemently. ‘I haven’t seen him for over a year.’

‘We’d like to check, madam.’ Deftly the man had turned back on Charlotte.

‘You have no right of entry to this property. The lady’s already told you that the person you’re looking for isn’t here, and that she doesn’t want you in her home.’ Edward folded his arms to indicate that this was now an end to the matter.

‘Fair enough. But do you know where he is?’ The question was aimed at Charlotte again.

This time she gave her answer to Edward. ‘I don’t...’

He nodded, laying his hand on her arm with as much tenderness as he could muster. ‘They’re allowed to ask you whether you know where the person they’re looking for is. It’s entirely up to you whether you answer or not.’

‘We haven’t lived together for eighteen months. I have the name of his solicitor.’ Her voice was almost a whisper, her eyes pleading. Not just for him to help her get rid of these men. For him to understand.

‘Can we have that at least...please?’ The word please seemed to stick in the man’s throat and he took another step forward, as if this was an invitation into the house.

‘Wait there.’ Edward turned to Charlotte and she nodded. She knew as well as he did that if she could give these men something it might get them off her back. ‘Go and get it, then.’

She hurried inside and Edward indulged in a staring contest with the men, open hostility buzzing between them. She returned, clutching a piece of paper with a hastily scribbled address on it, and gave it to Edward. ‘Here it is.’

Edward turned back to the men on the pavement. ‘Right. The lady hasn’t seen her husband in months, and she doesn’t know where he is. She’s given you every assistance she can in locating him, and this ends her involvement in the matter.’

‘All right.’ The man snatched the paper that Edward proffered. ‘And you’re sure you don’t know where he is?’

‘Doesn’t sound very likely to me,’ his companion sneered, forcing home the point. ‘Doesn’t he want to see his own kid?’

Edward heard Charlotte’s sudden intake of breath and fought to stay in control of the fury that swept over him in a red-and-black wave. Much as he’d like to, getting into a fight with these guys wasn’t going to help. ‘You’ve asked your question and you’ve got your answer. You know full well that the law prevents you from harassing this lady any further or from speaking to a minor.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to get going before I call the police.’

The two looked at each other, grins on their faces. Edward wondered how many people actually followed through with that threat. He started to thumb the numbers on the screen.

‘All right, mate.’ The larger of the two, who was obviously the lead man, held up his hands in surrender. ‘We’re going.’

‘Tell your head office to expect a letter, confirming the information that this lady’s given you. She knows nothing more which will assist you, and she wants no further contact with you.’ Edward pressed his advantage home.

The two turned without a word and Edward watched them lumber off down the road and climb into a shiny SUV. Business was clearly booming for them.

‘Go and see to Isaac. I’ll just keep an eye out here for a couple of minutes.’ The SUV roared past them down the road, with the engine being gunned so that it made as much noise as possible.

He looked around. Charlotte was still there, her face burning so red that he probably could have warmed his hands on it if he’d needed to.

‘Thanks, Edward. I’m sorry you had to see that.’

‘It’s not your fault. Those guys had no right to act the way they did.’

Her gaze dropped to the cracked paving stones at their feet. ‘Yeah, I know. It was such a shock to see them on the doorstep, and they were so intimidating...’ She looked as if she was about to burst into tears and then visibly pulled herself together.

Turning, she hurried back up the path and opened the front door. ‘I’m really grateful to you, Edward. I’ll...’ She had the grace to flush an even deeper red before she gave him his marching orders. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to go and see how Isaac is. Will you excuse me? I’ll see you on Monday.’

The door closed, and Edward found himself standing alone. What was he supposed to do now? Charlotte had made her intentions more than clear, and he supposed he should leave. But he was damned if he was going to leave a woman and child alone in this situation.

Edward strode to his car, snatched Stinky up from the front seat, and walked back to her front door.

CHAPTER THREE

ISAAC WAS WHIMPERING in her arms. He was trying to be brave, but his little body was shaking as he clung to Charlotte. She wanted to go and find those men and punch them. More than once.

There was a noise at the letterbox and she tried not to jump. Isaac fell silent, staring at the door.

‘Charlotte? Charlotte, I have Stinky here. That’s what I came for this morning. He’s too big to put through the letterbox.’

She thought about telling Edward to leave him on the doorstep. She might possibly have been able to, whatever the consequences later on, if she hadn’t seen the look on Isaac’s face. It was as if he’d just seen the cavalry, riding hell for leather over the horizon.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe his five-year-old mind was able to see a little more clearly than hers. She wouldn’t be all that surprised. Edward engendered such a plethora of different emotions in her that her judgement wasn’t to be trusted where he was concerned.

‘I’m coming...’ she called out to him, and took Isaac’s hand, leading him to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

She had hardly registered it before, through her tears and her panic, but Edward’s eyes looked a brighter blue than usual. His hair darker. There was less of the suit and tie about him and a great deal more of the enigma, with his dark shirt and jacket giving him an almost dangerous look. Even the blue stuffed toy, grasped lightly in his long fingers, couldn’t dispel the feeling that here was a hero, come somehow to save her.

‘Hey, Isaac.’

He might only have been able to spare her son a half-smile, but it would have melted an ice hotel, launched a battleship, and cracked a grin on the face of a statue.

‘I brought Stinky for you.’

Isaac looked up at him and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Charlotte resisted the impulse to tell him to use a tissue on the grounds that she’d been doing the same herself just a moment ago. This morning Isaac could do anything he liked, as long as she could see just a glimpse of his smile.

‘Thank you.’ Isaac’s voice was small, quavering, and it tugged at Charlotte’s heart.

‘Bit of a morning, eh, little man?’ Edward suddenly seemed to realise that getting down onto Isaac’s level would be a good idea and dropped to one knee, proffering the boy’s toy.

Isaac nodded, reaching for Stinky. Charlotte felt his hand slip out of hers and he walked uncertainly towards Edward, then seemed to throw all caution to the winds and flung his arms around Edward’s neck.

‘Hey... Hey, there.’ For a moment Edward’s hands fluttered awkwardly. Then he wrapped his arms around Isaac, hugging him as if he could hold him tightly enough to make everything all right.

For a moment all Charlotte wanted was to be in on that hug.

‘You know what?’ Edward had got to his feet, taking Isaac with him. Safe and sound in his arms. ‘You and I have a job to do. We’re going to tell your mum that everything’s going to be okay. That we’ll look after her.’

Isaac nodded sagely.

‘I think we could all do with a cup of tea. What do you say?’

‘I want milk.’

‘Good idea. I’ll have some milk, too. And we’ll make your mum a cup of tea.’

‘She likes coffee. The kind with the froth on top.’

Isaac had a tight hold of Edward’s jacket collar, his other arm wrapped around Stinky. Charlotte knew that his tears weren’t too far below the surface, but Edward seemed to be reassuring him with his sheer bulk and unflappability.

‘Okay. Tell you what—we could go out for coffee, if you’d like.’ His gaze moved from Isaac to Charlotte. ‘What do you think?’

‘I...’ She wanted his arms around her so much. His comfort. Charlotte pulled herself upright, squaring her shoulders. ‘We’re all right. Really.’

‘Yeah. I can see that.’ He reached forward, touching her cheek so lightly that she shivered. As his hand dropped to his side his fingers skimmed his thumb, as if he wanted to test the exact nature and volume of the tears he’d brushed away.

‘We can manage, Edward. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t turned up just then, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it...’ Good start. That was really going to make him feel that it was okay for him to go away now, wasn’t it?

‘But...?’

‘But I can’t keep you. You must have things to do.’

Edward always had something to do. His head was always buried in a book, or some papers. Even when she’d chanced to see him in the street he was always deep in thought, and half the time he didn’t even acknowledge her, either because he hadn’t seen or didn’t want to see.

‘I don’t think so. In fact I’ve nothing to do today. It’s only fifteen minutes over to my place.’ He pursed his lips, as if he’d surprised himself by the invitation as much as he’d just surprised Charlotte. ‘We’ll get coffee on the way, and we can talk...privately. Perhaps I can help.’

She could have turned his help down for herself, but she had Isaac to think about, and Charlotte had no choice but to grab at any and every offer that came her way. And there was the matter of that nagging need at the back of her head, which wanted her to explain to Edward, tell him that she wasn’t the person that all of this made her seem. She was going to have to swallow her pride and go for coffee.

* * *

Edward had waited in the hallway while she dragged on a pair of jeans, shoved her feet into her sandals and splashed her face with water. Her eyes had looked puffy in the mirror, but she hadn’t wanted to keep him waiting for too long, so she’d dropped her make-up bag into a canvas holdall along with a few of Isaac’s favourite toys to keep him occupied.

They’d stopped at a coffee shop and Edward had ushered them in. Isaac had slipped his hand into Edward’s, tugging at his jacket until he’d lifted him up to see over the counter. He seemed to trust that if he stuck with his new friend no harm would come to them, and Charlotte hoped that her son was right.

Now they turned into a wide street, dappled by sunlight shining through the branches of the trees. Turned again into a short drive, behind a high wall hung with greenery, and came to a halt outside a double-fronted Georgian house, white-painted with slim, elegant lines.

It was quiet here. Far enough from the main road for them to be able to hear birdsong. Charlotte handed Edward the cardboard coffee holder and busied herself with getting Isaac out of the car.

The silence between them was oppressive. Edward seemed awkward as he opened the front door, walking inside without even asking them in, and Charlotte began to wish that she was anywhere but here. Apart from being at home, that was, waiting for the phone to ring again.

‘Well...’ He clapped his hands together awkwardly, like a man who was unused to guests. ‘Here we are.’

‘Yes.’ Charlotte stepped tentatively over the threshold, holding tightly onto Isaac’s hand. Inside the house it was tranquil—a cream-painted hallway, pictures on the walls, green plants everywhere.

‘Let’s go into the sitting room.’ Edward seemed to galvanise himself into action and opened a wide panelled door, ushering them through it.

Sunlight streamed through the front windows onto pale oatmeal-coloured sofas at the front. A TV, nestling unobtrusively in one corner, conceded pride of place to a state-of-the-art sound system. The room ran the full depth of the house, and next to the French windows at the back stood a grand piano.

‘What a lovely room.’ She gave her son’s hand a squeeze, although whether it was to give or receive confidence she wasn’t quite sure. ‘Isn’t it, Isaac?’

Isaac was too busy looking around to reply. At the lines of glass-fronted cabinets, heavy with books. The green plants, arching gracefully around the windows.

‘Come and meet Archie.’ Edward beckoned Isaac over towards the French windows, where a ginger cat lay stretched out on the carpet, basking in the warm sunlight.

‘Is he a lion?’ Isaac looked up at him gravely.

Edward laughed. ‘Well, he’s not very fierce. You won’t need that.’ He gestured towards Isaac’s plastic ray gun, which he’d insisted on bringing along with him.

Isaac stowed the ray gun in his pocket, just in case he’d need it later, and followed Edward over to where the cat lay. He watched solemnly as Edward tickled its ears and then its tummy as it rolled over, luxuriating in his touch.

‘Do you want to stroke him?’

Edward was letting Isaac approach the creature in his own time, and Charlotte smiled as Isaac slowly reached out.

‘He’s growling.’ Isaac snatched his hand away.

‘No, that’s purring. It means he likes you.’ Edward drew back a little, letting Isaac stroke Archie.

‘Be gentle with him, sweetie. Remember that he’s much smaller than you are.’ Charlotte stayed at her post by the door, still not sure whether to accept the quiet welcome of this place.

‘Would Isaac like to watch some TV? While we talk?’

‘Oh. Yes, he might do. Thank you.’ Charlotte took the remote that Edward proffered and found a channel that Isaac liked, turning the sound down to a quiet murmur.

Edward set a low coffee table in front of the screen, put Isaac’s frothed milk onto it and opened a cupboard, drawing out the molecule modelling kit.

Charlotte grinned. ‘You’re going to let him play with your toys?’

‘If I share, then maybe he’ll let me have a go with his ray gun. Will he be all right here?’

‘He’ll be fine. Look, he’s already made a new friend.’ Charlotte nodded towards Isaac, who was talking confidingly to Archie, stroking him carefully.

‘Good. Well, we can talk through here.’

There was a door at the far end of the room, by the piano, and Edward disappeared through it, leaving Charlotte to get Isaac out of his jacket and settle him in front of the television.

She took one last look at Isaac, and then took a deep breath. Time to face Edward now. Now that keeping up appearances was no longer an option it was going to have to be the truth. She just hoped that he would understand.

He was sitting at a table in the large kitchen, studying the coffee in front of him as if there was some solution in there. She could tell him the answer to that. She’d tried it enough times herself. She mustered a smile, and sat down opposite him.

‘So who’s Archie named after? Archimedes?’ She pulled her own coffee towards her and peeled off the plastic lid. It was smooth and strong and the caffeine hit her straight between the eyes.

He looked up, suddenly aware of her presence. ‘Yes, actually. Although it’s a mispronunciation, of course. Am I that predictable?’

‘No. I thought of the most unlikely thing I could and suggested that—’ She broke off as he smiled at her. That smile did all kinds of things to her, none of which were going to be of much help at the moment.

‘So.’ His gaze dropped to his cup again. ‘You’re in trouble, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. I am.’ She should have realised that Edward would cut straight to the point. He wasn’t much for small talk. Charlotte hadn’t anticipated how much of a relief it would be. ‘It isn’t what you think.’

He looked up at her. Those deep blue eyes were almost irresistible. ‘I’m not thinking anything.’

‘You’re always thinking something, aren’t you?’

A trace of a grin tugged at his lips. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

Suddenly she wanted to defend herself from all the implications of what Edward had seen and from whatever conclusions that agile, razor-sharp mind of his was working its way towards. ‘The debts aren’t mine, Edward.’

‘I know. It was your husband they were looking for...’

‘He’ll be my ex-husband soon. Very soon, if everything goes as planned.’

Maybe she should have been a little less vehement about that. Said it a little more as if it was a matter of fact rather than an avowal of innocence. Edward seemed far more at home with facts than emotions.

‘Have you asserted your separation financially?’

‘Yes. There are no more joint accounts and credit cards. The house and the mortgage are in my name.’

‘Then you have nothing to worry about. As long as you’ve applied for a Deed of Separation, and you’re not jointly liable for any of his debts...’

‘How do you know all this?’ The question had occurred to Charlotte on her doorstep, but she’d pushed it to the back of her mind.

‘I have a degree in Law.’

‘As well as being a surgeon?’

‘I...um...I was advised to wait until I was eighteen to go to medical school. I was at a loose end.’

‘So...’ The gossip was correct, then. ‘You are a genius?’

‘They called it “gifted” when I was a kid. Now it’s called High Learning Potential.’

The twitch of his lips told Charlotte that they were just labels, which Edward didn’t set much store by.

‘I don’t need to be a genius to know that there’s more to your situation than what you’ve told me.’

There was a lot more. Charlotte grinned at him almost automatically, the way she did whenever anyone offered anything that sounded a bit too much like sympathy. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, really. And you’re not going to convince me otherwise with that smile, either. Even if it is a very nice one.’

Stop now. One thing at a time. Having Edward as a concerned friend was already turning her universe upside down. It was a bit too soon for compliments.

‘You’re right, that’s not all. My husband had...I think it’s probably fair to say has...a gambling addiction.’

‘And that’s why you left him?’

‘I wasn’t that smart. I didn’t know about it until the bailiffs started calling. The first one was the day after Isaac’s second birthday.’ She sighed. She didn’t need to go into details; he was getting the gist. ‘I started out by paying his debts. He promised me that he’d stopped, and I believed him.’

‘But he lied?’ He was blunt, but there was no brutality there. Just the truth.

‘Yes, he just kept on racking up the debts. Internet gaming sites, card games... He maxed out our credit cards and I dipped into the money I’d inherited from my parents just to keep a roof over our heads.’ Charlotte gulped in a breath of air. This time she was going to do things better. She had to for Isaac’s sake.

‘But you couldn’t hold it together.’ Another flat, emotionless statement of the inevitable facts.

‘I did for a while. Then he left. That was eighteen months ago. I sold the house, paid off all the debts, and managed to scrape enough together for a deposit on a smaller house. Made a new start for Isaac and me.’

Edward just nodded.

Caught in the force of his concentration, Charlotte realised that Edward was not an absent-minded, other-worldly creature. He was thinking things through, his ruthless single-mindedness not allowing a single detail to escape.

‘Does your husband know where you are?’

‘Yes, he knows. I was hoping that he’d come and see Isaac but he never has.’

Charlotte heaved a sigh. She didn’t need to tell him about the thing that had damned her the most—it didn’t affect the problem at hand. Anyway, it was humiliating. Even more so than having to admit she was being chased by her husband’s debtors.

She met those blue eyes again. Ever questioning, but not as judgemental as she’d feared.

‘And you said your divorce is in the pipeline?’

‘Yes. I have the Decree Nisi and I’m waiting for the Decree Absolute. I’m hoping that he won’t throw any spanners into the works and put in a last-minute objection.’

‘Do you have any reason to think he will?’

‘No... Maybe... I don’t know. Peter’s not exactly the most predictable of people.’ Charlotte sighed. ‘He’s not strong. He’ll do whatever gets him through the day and forget all about the consequences for tomorrow.’

‘You don’t trust him.’

Damn right she didn’t. She had very little reason to. ‘No, I don’t. The men who called this morning aren’t the only people looking to get paid. I had a telephone call last night from someone who said I owed money for a mobile phone bill.’

‘Do you?’

‘No!’ She was protesting too much again. ‘My phone’s a pay-as-you-go...’

Charlotte reached for her handbag to show him the phone and Edward stopped her, laying his hand on her wrist.

‘It’s okay.’

‘It isn’t. The divorce won’t protect me if he’s managed to raise a line of credit in my name, and I’ve no money to pay off any more of his debts.’

It was as if she and Isaac were being dragged back into the nightmare that she’d worked so hard to get out of, and there was nothing she could do about it. Charlotte gulped back the tears, pulling her hand away from his grasp.

‘What did you tell them?’ He was still calm, almost icy cool. Still focussed on the facts.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She should try to sound a little more grateful, Edward had already helped her more than he had any reason to. ‘I said that I had no knowledge of the account in question and asked them to put everything in writing and send it to me.’

‘Good. We can start making enquiries on Monday. In the meantime, is there anyone that you and Isaac can stay with?’

‘Not really. My parents are dead and I don’t have any brothers or sisters...’ She tried to smile, make light of it, but Charlotte had never felt so alone. ‘We’ll be okay. I’ll take the phone off the hook and lock the door...’

‘You’ll stay here.’ Even Edward seemed surprised at his uncompromising words.

‘No! I mean...Edward, it’s kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t think of it.’

‘What about Isaac? I gather that Sunday mornings are a favourite time for debt collectors to make their calls. He’s old enough to know what’s going on now.’

Low blow. He’d found the spot where her guilt was almost unbearable. ‘I thought he was too young to remember. But when those men called this morning...’

Isaac had understood exactly who they were and had launched himself at them, trying to drive them away, trying to protect her. Charlotte had managed to keep hold of him, and the men had smirked at each other as she bundled him back into the house.

She heard Edward sigh.

‘Look, you need to get yourself and Isaac out of the firing line for a few days, until you have a chance to sort this out. I’ve plenty of room here—there are two spare bedrooms upstairs—and you’ll both be safe.’

He didn’t mince his words, or dress it up to make it sound as if she had a choice, but he was right. She did need to get her son away from this nightmare, and she had nowhere to take him.

‘Charlotte.’

He reached out to her, his finger tipping her chin upwards. His shrewd blue eyes saw straight through her. There were no excuses, no way that she could just fob him off with something.

‘Where else are you going to go?’

CHAPTER FOUR

HE HADN’T MEANT to be cruel, just to look at the situation rationally. But when she finally gave way to her tears, her forehead sinking until it almost touched the surface of his kitchen table, her body trembling with the effort that it seemed to take her to cry, Edward realised that she wasn’t the only one who was in over her head. He didn’t feel equal to this—not the crying woman at his kitchen table, or the vulnerable child on his sofa—and the knowledge that he was way past the point of dispensing some good advice and leaving them to it wasn’t helping much.

‘Hey.’ He reached out, touching her arm tentatively with the tips of his fingers. ‘Charlotte, please don’t.’

She ignored him, and it had been a stupid thing to say anyway. Charlotte was at perfect liberty to do whatever she wanted. It was him who didn’t want her to cry, because it wrenched his heart so much to see it.

‘Okay. Well, you can cry as much as you like. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it down a bit or Isaac will be in here, blasting me with his ray gun for upsetting you. Which I didn’t mean to do, by the way.’

Her shoulders stopped shaking. Slowly she raised her head. For a moment Edward was unsure about whether she was going to burst into laughter or start crying again. He decided to wait. He’d probably said more than enough already.

‘I’ll pay you rent.’ Her voice was low, a little unsteady, but there was no doubt that she was back in control of herself.

‘No. I won’t accept it.’ She opened her mouth to protest and he silenced her with a look. ‘That’s not negotiable.’

‘I could clean for you.’

‘That’s not going to work either. I have a cleaning lady and there will be hell to pay if you put her out of a job.’

Somehow, from somewhere, she managed to find a smile. It was like basking in a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. ‘I wondered whether it was you who kept all these plants watered.’

‘We have an...understanding. She looks after Archie and the plants, doesn’t move anything that I’m working on, and I keep out of her way and don’t forget to pay her. Works like a dream.’

‘I’m sure it does. Does she cook?’

‘I imagine so. Not while she’s here, though.’

‘I’ll cook for you, then.’

She narrowed her eyes obstinately and a sudden flood of longing gripped him. He hadn’t counted on these sorts of complications, and wondered whether what he was about to do was wise.

‘Okay. Deal.’

She bit her lip. ‘Isaac won’t be any trouble. He won’t touch any of your things. I’ll make sure of it...’

That sounded a bit dull. ‘I can put anything that I don’t want touched away out of his reach. And he can be as much trouble as he likes.’

She gave a tremulous laugh. Charlotte wasn’t just a pretty face; she was tough, too. And brave. And about a million other things, all of which he felt inexplicably driven to find out more about.

‘You have no idea how much trouble a determined five-year-old can be and, trust me, you don’t want to find out.’

‘Well...I’ll leave that to you. What I mean is that you should make yourselves at home.’ His mother was always telling him that this house was far too big for one. Granted this was not what she’d had in mind, but the principle was a good one. There was more than enough room for him to carry on with his life, undisturbed by two house guests.

‘Thank you. I really appreciate this, Edward. And it’ll only be for a few days, while I get everything sorted out.’

‘You can stay as long as you like.’

He knew that it would take longer than a few days to work this out, and he didn’t want her or Isaac going back home until it was. They’d both been through too much already.

* * *

After he’d taken them back to Charlotte’s house, to pack what they needed, Edward had left them to their own devices. They had their own routine, which clearly involved eating and sleeping at regular intervals, and he had his, which disregarded any such practical activities in favour of whatever he happened to be doing at the time.

When he parked outside his house on Sunday evening his mind was still racing from the concepts that had been explored in the afternoon seminar he’d attended, and then endlessly again afterwards over sandwiches. The house was dark, and as he slipped his key into the lock on the front door it occurred to him that Charlotte might have taken her son and left, leaving a note on the hall table for him to find when he got back.

‘Oh, no, you don’t...’ He muttered the words to himself, since she wasn’t around to hear them.

He slid the key into the lock and the door gave by six inches, then caught. The chain, which usually hung unused from the frame, barred his entry. At least he wasn’t going to have to get back into his car and drive over to Charlotte’s house, to make sure that she and Isaac were all right.

All the same, there was the small matter of being locked out of his own home. Ringing the bell would probably wake Isaac up, as would bellowing through the letterbox, so Edward pulled the door to, twisting the key to relock it.

He seldom took the path around the side of the house, and he jumped as a pair of iridescent orbs appeared from the bushes. ‘Locked out as well, eh?’ Archie swished his tail. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s a bit much.’

Discomfiture that his arrival home hadn’t provided the usual well-ordered release from the complications of the world began to swell into anger.

He didn’t need to find the key for the French windows; they were standing open. She was there, in the failing light, curled up in a chair on the stone-flagged patio.

‘Charlotte!’

She jumped, throwing off the woollen jacket that was wrapped around her shoulders and twisting around. When she saw him she smiled, and Edward felt the hard edges of his anger melt.

‘It’s you...’ She rubbed her eyes with her hand, as if she had been dozing.

It occurred to Edward to make the point that there wasn’t much to gain by locking the front door if she was going to fall asleep with the doors to the patio wide open. But that sounded rather too much like criticism, and he’d already seen her flinch enough times when she or Isaac did something that she thought he might disapprove of.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘I must have just dropped off...’ Her gaze swung from him to the house and then back again. ‘Ohhh. I locked you out...’

That didn’t seem so much of an issue as it had a moment ago. ‘Putting the chain on the front door’s a sensible precaution at night.’

‘And falling asleep with the patio doors open isn’t.’ She gave a little self-deprecatory smile.

He shrugged, as if he’d not thought about that. ‘Why don’t you give yourself a break? You’re safe here. No one can find you.’ No one apart from him. He liked that thought so much that he dumped his briefcase on the stone flags and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to her.

She nodded. ‘Thank you. Having a safe place to stay has meant a great deal to me and Isaac.’

‘So you’ve had a good day?’

‘Yes, thank you. We had lunch and then went to the park. They’ve got a great playground there, and a lovely cafeteria. We played football, as well.’

She made it sound like a real treat, and Edward found himself smiling, wondering whether football wouldn’t have been preferable to a dark, humid lecture theatre. She and Isaac were a small, self-sufficient unit, though. They probably wouldn’t have wanted him along.

‘Sounds nice. Have you thought about what you’re going to do yet? With regard to your situation?’ He tried to put it delicately.

‘I called Paula and she’s going to lend me her laptop tomorrow. I’ve drawn up a list of things I need to find out about, and then I can start in on sorting everything out.’

Edward had left his own laptop on the coffee table, specifically so she could use it if she wanted to go on the internet. He should have thought that she wouldn’t touch it, or allow Isaac to either, without asking. ‘No need for that. Mine’s right there.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’ There was a hint of awkwardness in her manner as she slid to the edge of her seat. ‘Would you like something to drink? There’s some hot chocolate...’

Her determination to pay her own way seemed to know no bounds. Everything he did for her—things that he gave without expecting anything in return—was entered on a balance sheet in her head to be repaid at a later date. Edward was debating whether he should tell her that she really didn’t need to wait on him like this, but she was on her feet already.

‘Hot chocolate would be great. Thank you.’

Since she so much wanted to do something for him, he supposed he should let her, and Charlotte’s bright smile as she disappeared into the house tentatively proved his theory.

She brought him a mug of creamy hot chocolate, along with a plate of home-made biscuits.

‘Thank you.’ He took a sip and nodded his approval. Archie materialised from his nightly tour of the garden and curled up under her chair. If she’d been feeding him as well as she seemed intent on feeding Edward he couldn’t fault the animal’s change of allegiance. ‘There’s something I want you to do for me.’

She brightened noticeably. ‘Yes, of course. What is it?’

Too late, Edward realised that he should have chosen his words more carefully. The impression that she was about to do him a favour was accurate enough, in the context of the amount of thinking time he’d already given to her plight, but Charlotte probably wouldn’t see it that way.

‘My father has his own practice at law, and I want you to consider making an appointment to go and see him. He can advise you and get his investigative team to find out exactly what’s going on. With my dad on your side, you can get things sorted out quicker and more efficiently.’

‘But I can’t afford to pay a lawyer, Edward.’

‘You won’t need to. If I ask him, he’ll do it for free.’

She hesitated. For a moment Edward thought that her pride was going to let her see sense and give in to expediency. Then she shook her head.

‘No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Please don’t mention it to him.’

He sighed. ‘What isn’t fair is that you’re spending time on researching and fighting your own battles when there are people who will happily help you out. It’s not just you that it makes an impact on—it’s your work at the clinic.’

That particular argument didn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Charlotte must have been worried sick over the last couple of weeks, but she’d never shown any evidence of it on the job.

She frowned at him. ‘I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of my work.’

‘I know you wouldn’t mean to, but none of us can be expected to give a hundred per cent when we’re under the kind of pressure that you’re facing at the moment.’ He was pressing hard, exploiting every chink in her armour.

She hesitated. ‘Edward, I... You’re confusing me.’

Well, now she knew how he felt. ‘It’s very simple, Charlotte. Trust me.’

Two little words, spoken almost as a throwaway to emphasise his point. He should have known better. If he’d thought about it for two seconds he would have realised that trust was something she had a lot of difficulty with.

‘I’m sorry.’ Without another word, she got to her feet and disappeared into the house.

Edward leaned back in his chair and stared out into the evening shadows. Archie slid past his legs, waiting to be stroked, and he ran his fingers thoughtfully along the cat’s back. Adjusting to the complex myriad of emotions that Charlotte and Isaac had brought to the quiet peace of his home was proving more difficult than he’d imagined.

The green reflective eyes seemed for a moment to understand his frustration, and then Archie was off again, his instinctive urge to chase shadows getting the better of him. Edward silently wished him better luck than he’d had tonight.

* * *

Edward had left the house before she was up the following morning. Charlotte went through the routine of getting herself up and ready for work, and Isaac ready for school, almost on autopilot. She was well aware that she’d walked out on Edward in the middle of a conversation last night, and common courtesy demanded that if he decided to broach the subject again she should have some kind of reasoned answer for him.

‘Mum...?’

‘Yes, Isaac.’

‘Is everything going to be all right?’

She sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. ‘Of course it is. What makes you ask that, sweetie?’

Some kind of understanding of the situation they were in, perhaps?

Isaac shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

His brow was still furrowed, perhaps as a result of the unerring radar that seemed to alert him whenever something was wrong, even though he didn’t grasp quite what it was.

‘Look, sweetie. Those men came to our house by mistake on Saturday—they weren’t looking for us. We’re staying here with Edward for a few days, while I get everything sorted out, but that’s going to happen very soon. Everything’s going to be okay.’

‘Do you promise?’

He still lived in a world where she could make everything right. Those trusting eyes would give Charlotte the courage to face anything that the world could throw at her. They’d even give her the courage to ask just one more favour from Edward.

‘Yes. I promise. Cross my heart.’

* * *

She’d gone straight to Edward’s office when she’d arrived at work and left a note for him on his desk. As luck would have it, he returned from his morning’s surgery just as Allie and Paula were both within range of the nurses’ station, beckoning Charlotte into his office in full view of both of them.

She was aware that two pairs of eyes were following her every move, so knew she’d better make this quick. ‘I wanted to apologise. For last night...’

‘You have nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you sit down?’ He threw himself into his leather chair.

‘Because...’ Charlotte shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. ‘We said we’d be discreet about our current living arrangements. And we’re being watched.’

‘Really? By whom?’ He glanced around his office, perfectly oblivious of the stares that were homing in on them through the glass.

‘Don’t look...’

His attention swung back to her, and Charlotte began to wonder whether it wouldn’t have been better to leave well alone. Edward’s gaze made her feel as if he were undressing her. Taking his time and getting it absolutely right.

‘There—will that do?’

As long as he didn’t keep it up too long. ‘That’s fine. Allie and Paula are at the nurses’ station. Watching us.’

‘Ah. Well, in that case, I’ll just pretend to show you this...’ He flipped through the pile of journals on his desk, pulling one out and opening it. ‘Then you can sit down and pretend to read it.’

His lips twitched slightly as she took the journal from his hand, and Charlotte suppressed a grin. His sense of humour might be an acquired taste, but it was well worth the journey.

‘You wrote this?’ She read the title of the paper slowly, just about getting the gist of it.

‘Yeah.’ He leaned forward across his desk. ‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t know. Give me a couple of months to work my way through it...’

‘Then you’ll need to sit down.’

Charlotte gave up the unequal struggle and plumped herself down on one of the deep-cushioned leather easy chairs which were reserved for guests. Edward swung around in his own office chair, making sure that his back was to the glass wall, and shot her a conspiratorial look.

‘So what do you want to speak to me about?’ His finger nudged at the note on his desk.

Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘I was being pig-headed last night. I’m sorry.’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not...’ His intent blue gaze found hers and held it fast. ‘I’m not great with certain kinds of solutions.’

What did he mean by that? Edward’s usual forthright way of expressing himself seemed to have deserted him for the moment. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying...’

He sighed. ‘I’m saying that I’m not as good with people as you are. I can be insensitive at times.’

‘No, Edward...’ She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake this nonsense out of him, but she was being watched. She had to stay still and pretend this was just a conversation between two work colleagues. ‘You’ve shown me and Isaac nothing but kindness.’

His eyes betrayed his confusion. ‘Is this your way of letting me off the hook?’

‘No. I’m paying you the respect of being honest with you. The way you’ve done with me.’

His slow smile penetrated every dark corner of her being. Filled her mind with the kind of ideas that she’d been trying not to think about for the past three days.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘You’re welcome.’ Charlotte was sure that there was a more appropriate response than that, but she couldn’t fathom what it might be at the moment. Not without the kind of body language that would get her into deep trouble. ‘Look, what I wanted to say was that I’m over trying to make out that I can do everything by myself. If the offer’s still open, I’d be really grateful if your father could spare a little of his time—perhaps just to talk to me and give me some general advice.’

He nodded. ‘The offer’s still open; there was no time limit on it. I’ll give him a call.’

‘Thanks, Edward. I really appreciate it. You’ll tell him that, won’t you?’

‘I will.’ He pointed to the journal in her lap. ‘You know, if you’re going to do this properly you should at least look as if you’re reading.’

She picked up the journal and looked at it. ‘Better?’

‘Much. If anyone asks, what’s our excuse for talking to each other?’

‘I’ve probably been disputing some of the conclusions you came to in this article.’ Charlotte jabbed her finger at the page in front of her and threw the journal down onto his desk.

‘Very theatrical.’ His eyes flashed as he leaned forward, picking up the journal and clipping something to the pages before he passed it back. ‘Here’s my father’s card. I’ll give him a call right now and tell him to expect your call this afternoon.’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t say enjoying. I think you’ve made the right decision....’

‘I meant the secret rendezvous stuff.’

‘Oh. Well, that adds a certain frisson. D’you think it’s working?’

‘Probably not. But at least I’ve got a measure of deniability.’ Charlotte slipped the business card into her pocket and closed the journal, passing it back to him. ‘Will you be working tonight?’

‘No. Do you want a lift home?’ He grinned. ‘You could wait for me by the park gates if you like. With a wig and a pair of sunglasses, no one will think it’s you...’

‘I’ll wear a pink carnation in my buttonhole.’

‘Yeah. That would be a nice touch. Match your ears.’

* * *

Her ears weren’t the only things which felt as if they were burning up when Charlotte walked back past the nurses’ station.

‘Not so fast.’

Paula’s murmured words stopped her in her tracks.

‘Sorry?’ She was going to have to brazen it out.

‘So what’s the story, then? You and Edward North?’

‘He was just showing me a paper he’d written. In one of the journals. Something that came up.’

Charlotte pushed her hands into her pockets and curled her fingers around the business card, just to check that it wasn’t about to leap out of her pocket and embarrass her even further.

‘Well, make sure that something comes up more often. After all...’ Allie shrugged ‘...one thing might lead to another.’

‘I don’t have time for anything like that. Isaac’s the only man in my life at the moment.’ It would be as well if she remembered that, too.

‘Spoilsport. Surely you get time for a night off once in a while?’

Paula’s tone was edged with concern. She might tease, but underneath it all she had a good heart.

‘Edward North...he needs someone like you. And he is gorgeous.’

‘And headed this way...’

Charlotte had been deliberately not looking in the direction of Edward’s office and it was Allie who raised the alarm. Edward was striding towards them, and Charlotte caught the quick exchanged glance between Paula and Allie as he passed behind her. A little too close.

‘Charlotte.’

There was something intimate about the way he said her name. Or maybe it was just her imagination. Charlotte didn’t dare to look in Paula’s direction.

‘Mrs Ashe is here a little early with April. If you’re free, then I’ll see them now.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Charlotte reached over for the notes and followed Edward into the plush, comfortable consulting room.

* * *

The seventeen-year-old took a nervous breath as Edward began the careful, precise work of taking the dressings from the side of her face. The previous week he had used skin flaps to revise the scars that a road accident had left, and today April was to see the result. His small nod, and a fleeting glance in Charlotte’s direction, revealed that he was pleased with his work.

‘Does it look horrible?’ April was chewing her lip.

‘No. Mr North’s got to take a careful look, but so far everything’s fine.’

The other nurses sometimes complained that it was pretty much impossible to gauge Edward’s reactions to anything, but today he seemed more transparent than usual.

She ventured a little more reassurance for April. ‘It’s a little raised at the moment, but that’s normal. It’ll settle over time.’

‘Yes.’ Edward was taking her lead. ‘I’m very pleased with the way it’s healing.’

Charlotte laid her hand over April’s, feeling the tremor of her fingers. ‘When you look at yourself in the mirror, remember that we’re at the very early stages of healing right now. Your procedure went well, and everything’s going just as it should. You’ll see a lot of improvement in the coming months.’

‘That’s okay.’ April managed a smile. ‘I know.’

She might be young, but April was much more pragmatic than some of the clinic’s clients, who seemed to expect that the miracles Edward performed should take effect immediately. Charlotte reached for the mirror, but Edward already had it, and was handing it to April.

‘Everything’s looking good, April. There’s very little swelling, and I can see you’ve been doing all the things that Charlotte told you to do when we saw you last. Keep up the good work.’

‘Thanks.’ April took the mirror and looked at her reflection. ‘That’s not so bad.’

Charlotte grinned at her. ‘No. Not so bad at all. Now, I’ll show you how to massage it gently. With just a little more work, we can make it even better.’

CHAPTER FIVE

THE SMELL COMING from the kitchen was gorgeous. Mouthwatering. Edward wondered how he could possibly be so hungry when normally he ate far later than this, and sometimes not at all if he got involved with what he was doing.

‘Do you know what’s for dinner, Isaac?’ He sat down on the sofa next to the boy, who was fidgeting restlessly.

‘Yes. Mum made it yesterday.’

‘Would you like to share?’

Isaac thought for a minute, and Edward wondered if he ought to rephrase.

‘Lasagne.’

‘Sounds great. I like lasagne.’

‘Me, too. I like it here, too.’ Isaac thought for a moment. ‘When are we going home?’

Edward glanced towards the open door of the kitchen. No Charlotte. She must be able to hear their conversation, but it didn’t appear that she was going to help him out.

‘Whenever you and your mum want to.’

‘Can we stay until next weekend?’

‘Yes, if you’d like to. What’s happening next weekend?’

‘The men are coming again.’

‘No, Isaac...’ Where was Charlotte when he needed her? She didn’t seem to have any difficulty in turning up almost like magic whenever she was needed at a patient’s bedside. ‘Your mother’s done nothing wrong. Those men aren’t allowed to come back, and I’m going to make sure they don’t.’

‘How?’ Isaac slipped off the sofa and approached Edward, laying both hands on one of his knees, clearly intent on a man-to-man talk.

Edward took a deep breath and leaned forward. ‘That’s a secret. But I promise you that we’ll stop them from coming back.’ He held out his right hand. ‘You want to shake on it?’

Isaac gave him a puzzled look.

‘Here.’ Edward picked up his right hand and gave it a gentle shake. ‘That means that I’ve made a promise to you and I can’t break it.’

‘Like that?’ Isaac proffered his right hand and shook Edward’s again.

‘That’s right. Just like that.’ This was going better than he’d thought it might.

Isaac proffered his hand again. ‘I promise I won’t touch your piano any more.’

A noise from the kitchen door made Edward look up and he wondered how long Charlotte had been standing there.

‘I’m sorry. He only played a couple of notes and I wiped the fingermarks off...’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ He turned back to Isaac. ‘How does not touching my piano unless you ask your mum or me first sound?’

‘I won’t touch your piano unless I ask Mum or you.’ Isaac sealed the bargain with a handshake and then ran over to the piano stool. ‘Can I touch it now?’

‘No, Isaac, it’s time for dinner. Go and wash your hands.’

Isaac pulled a face, but ran out of the room. Charlotte’s eye was on him all the way.

‘How do you do that?’

She’d picked up the lasagne, newly out of the oven, and was carrying it through into the dining room. Edward followed with the salad.

‘Answer all the questions? I just tell him the truth.’ She laid the dish down onto a padded table mat, her shoulders drooping suddenly, as if someone had loaded some extra weight onto them. ‘Well, most of the time. I still want to shield him, but he’s getting to an age when that’s not so easy.’

Edward wondered whether he should mention the fact that Isaac plainly wanted to do the same—to shield his mother. Probably not. He shouldn’t interfere.

She’d put a small glass vase of flowers on the over-large oval table, which Edward had never managed to fill but had bought because it balanced out the proportions of the room. He liked balance. Order and proportion helped him to think. Charlotte had laid a place for him at the head of the table, and he sat down.

It was the strangest feeling. Charlotte on one side of him, helping him to a generous portion from the dish and pushing the salad bowl towards him. Isaac on the other side, sitting on a cushion so that he could reach the table. It was almost as though they’d taken him in, rather than the other way round.

‘Would you like some water?’ Charlotte was still on her feet, leaning across the table to place a beaker of water in front of Isaac.

‘No, thank you. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get some wine.’

She hesitated. Clearly debating whether or not she was going to allow him to contribute to the meal even in this way. ‘Um...yes. Thank you. That would be nice.’

Edward got to his feet and went to the kitchen, fetching a couple of glasses and a bottle from the chiller. When he returned he was gratified to find that she’d done as he’d asked, and was sitting, her hands in her lap.

He placed a glass in front of her, uncorked the bottle and poured.

‘Thanks. That’s enough.’

She’d only let him half fill the glass but that was okay. It was the principle of it. Something had been accepted into the routine that they were building.

Isaac was watching his every move, eyes wide as saucers. ‘Can I have some?’

‘No, sweetie, this is for grown-ups.’ Charlotte quietened him with a quick look.

‘Pleeeease.’ Isaac was obviously unused to not sharing everything with his mother.

‘I’ve got something better for you.’

Edward gave him a conspiratorial grin and the boy quietened. He went to fetch a sturdier glass from the kitchen cupboard—not the fine crystal that he’d given to Charlotte, but a nice-looking faceted tumbler—and grabbed a bottle of sparkling raspberry cordial from the fridge.

‘Here you are.’ He set the glass in front of Isaac and filled it. ‘Try this.’

He sat down, aware that Charlotte’s smile was on him. It seemed to slide into his senses, warm and tingling, like fine brandy. Isaac took a sip from his glass and gave the same nod of approval that his mother had given when she’d tasted her wine. He was a part of this little treat.

Funnily enough, Edward felt a part of it, too. Eating together...praising Charlotte on the meal. Hearing the silly jokes passing between Isaac and Charlotte, which both of them expected him to laugh at, too. He was probably expected to tell a few, as well, but he couldn’t think of any that they might like at the moment. But even that didn’t seem to matter.

The doorbell rang.

Isaac jumped and would have spilled his drink if Edward hadn’t put out a hand to steady it. Instead his fork slithered to the floor, bouncing across the rug and clattering noisily on the wooden parquet.

‘Let’s not answer that.’ Edward shot a grin at the boy. Doorbells didn’t appear to be his favourite thing at the moment, and who could blame him?

‘It’s okay.’ Charlotte passed her own fork over to Isaac and bent to retrieve his. ‘It might be something important.’

Isaac’s gaze pleaded silently with him.

‘So what if it is? We’re eating.’ A feeling of bravado, quite out of proportion with the deed, sparked in Edward’s chest.

‘But it could be a friend. Someone you know.’

Unlikely. And if it were they’d know him well enough not to give up after the first ring. Opening the door when the bell rang was one of those things that Edward classed as optional.

‘If it is they’ll ring again. Or phone me.’ Edward generally picked up the phone. Unless he was in the middle of something really interesting.

She laughed. ‘Aren’t you even curious?’

Edward shrugged. ‘It’s probably someone wanting to sell me something.’ And, anyway, he was making a point.

‘And a man’s home is his castle, eh?’

‘Er...possibly. In a manner of speaking.’ It was certainly somewhere that his mind could wander freely. Explore the nuances that everyday life seemed to ignore so heedlessly. He hadn’t thought about the aspect of fortification, though...

Charlotte leaned towards him. ‘It’s just an expression. One size fits all.’

She was smiling at him, and that smile seemed to banish all thoughts of whether, either in truth or in paradigm, his home really was a castle. All he could do in the face of such unarguable persuasion was smile back.

‘Yeah. Well, then, whatever size my home is...’ he flipped a glance towards Isaac, hoping he’d get the point ‘...or I am, it’s definitely a castle. Which means I don’t have to answer the doorbell if I don’t want to.’

Isaac seemed to understand and turned his attention back to his meal. Charlotte was more difficult to satisfy.

‘So... Don’t you think you’re missing out on something?’

‘Like what?’ Like the world that she seemed to inhabit? The one where she seemed to navigate chance meetings and random conversations so easily.

‘I don’t know. That’s the thing, isn’t it?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s no one. And, anyway, we’re eating.’ He turned back to the plate in front of him. ‘And this is very good.’

CHAPTER SIX

CHARLOTTE HAD STACKED the dishwasher, sat with Isaac until he started to yawn, and then taken him up to bed. She tucked him in, along with Stinky, in the small second guest room which adjoined her own, and closed the connecting door between the two. Isaac had slept soundly for the last two nights, and showed no signs of doing anything else tonight.

Edward had seen to it that Isaac should feel at home here. When he’d taken them both back to the house on Saturday afternoon he’d filled the boot of his car with Isaac’s things—toys, games, clothes—so that he shouldn’t wake in the night and find himself in a completely strange place. Somehow the molecule modelling kit had found its way up here, too, and Charlotte wondered whether Edward had put it there. The thought made her smile.

When she got back downstairs the room was silent. Edward was in an easy chair with his nose in a book. Not wanting to disturb him, Charlotte retreated to the kitchen and set about cutting sandwiches for Isaac’s lunch tomorrow.

It was awkward being alone with him. At work, and when Isaac was around, she had a reason to ignore the desire to touch him. Now it was just him and her, and the empty space between them seemed almost to be daring her to breach it.

She’d finished the sandwiches, and was sitting at the kitchen table wondering what to do next, when the door opened quietly.

‘Hey.’

‘Oh...’ She jumped, almost spilling the cup of coffee in front of her. Suddenly she noticed that the deep blue open-necked shirt he’d pulled on when he got home emphasised the colour of his eyes. ‘You’re busy. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

He shook his head, as if the concept were new to him. It probably was. Short of a nuclear explosion, it was practically impossible to divert his attention away from what he was doing at work. ‘You don’t need to sit in here, you know.’

‘Yes... I mean, no. I mean... I don’t want to get in the way.’

‘You aren’t. I’d appreciate the company.’

He meant it. Edward who had always seemed so aloof at work, so self-sufficient. And yet he’d surprised her by seeming to understand just how she and Isaac felt. There was a great deal more to Edward than met the eye.

‘Me, too. I’ll...make some coffee, shall I?’ She looked at the mug of instant in front of her. ‘Some fresh coffee.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll do it.’ His mouth quirked. ‘Refreshments and snacks don’t count as cooking.’

His quiet, dry humour curled around her like a delicious full-bodied chuckle. ‘Oh. So you’re beginning to chip away at our bargain, are you?’

‘I don’t think so. I don’t remember any mention of brewing, looking in the fridge, or pouring.’ He measured the coffee into the machine and switched it on. ‘And I certainly don’t recall having covered electrical appliances.’

She smiled at him. ‘I’m going to have to watch myself, aren’t I? Next time I make a bargain with you, I’ll make sure I read the small print.’

Did that sound a bit too forward? Hopefully everything would be settled in a few days’ time and she would be on her way back home. Edward would forget her as he moved on to his next project of interest.

‘Yeah. Always read the small print.’

He flipped open the cupboard doors and pulled out two cups, his long fingers placing them precisely on the counter. He had a delicate touch. He had to have. Microsurgery was one of the most challenging disciplines in a challenging world. And Edward was the best at what he did—just like everyone else at 200 Harley Street.

He made the coffee and picked up her cup with his own, taking it into the sitting room, as if unsure whether she might follow otherwise. Charlotte perched herself on the sofa, casting around for something that she could make conversation about.

‘This is a lovely room.’

He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Do you play the piano much?’ From the wide-ranging collection of CDs on his shelves, and the grand piano, Edward was obviously passionate about music. In the three days that she and Isaac had been here, though, he’d never once opened the piano. Never once switched on the high-end audio equipment.

‘Most days. Do you play?’

‘No. I love listening, though.’

He must have changed his routine because of her presence. Maybe she could encourage him to change it back again.

Edward didn’t move. ‘I wouldn’t want to wake Isaac.’

‘You won’t. He’s upstairs and he’s fast asleep.’

Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Maybe this was something private, that Edward didn’t like to share.

It was something private—she could see it in the way he hesitated. But then he made his decision, jumping up and striding across the room. Charlotte tried not to notice the ease with which he lifted the heavy lid, or the way that his shoulder flexed as he propped it open. Suddenly his mastery over the large, shining instrument was physical, as well as just a matter of the mind.

Sitting down, he raised the lid from the keyboard and lowered his fingers onto the keys. ‘Any requests?’

For a moment she couldn’t think. Then Charlotte knew what she really wanted to hear. ‘Something you like.’

He nodded. Charlotte was expecting something classical, but the soft strains of Ain’t Misbehavin’ started to float across the room. Mesmerised, she moved closer and he beckoned her over, shifting up on the long piano seat to make room for her.

She swallowed hard. The music invited her. The way he made the song sound as if it had been written just for her. His sensitive fingers stroked the keys. Charlotte wanted nothing more at that moment than to sit next to him, be a part of this world. His world.

He raised one eyebrow at her hesitation, and the music swelled in reproach. She gave in and slid onto the edge of the stool, angling her body away from his.

‘You’ll fall off...’

The music dropped to a few notes, played with his left hand, while his right arm curled around her waist, pulling her further onto the stool. She was not quite touching him, and the seat was plenty long enough for two, but that didn’t seem to make any difference. She could practically feel his body moving against hers.

There were a few chords that seemed to be his own addition to the mix, and then he segued into As Time Goes By.

‘Mmm. Love this one.’ She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.

‘Yeah. Kind of sad... Haunting.’ He added an extra verse and chorus onto the end and then smoothly moved on into another melody that she couldn’t name, but which she recognised from an old film.

‘You like this?’

‘I feel I should be in a cocktail dress and expensive jewellery. Leaning against the piano and sipping... I wonder what they were drinking in Casablanca?’

He chuckled. ‘Champagne?’

‘You remember?’

‘No. Just a guess. I’ve got a bottle somewhere, if you’d like some.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘No. I don’t have the cocktail dress.’ Or the jewellery. Her mother’s ruby necklace, the one that she thought she’d never part with, had been sold and the money spent on the bricks and mortar of her house. The one that she’d been driven out of just a few days ago.

He seemed about to say something, then stopped himself. Moved on to play another song. The soft, melancholy chords filled the air around them.

Suddenly the music stopped. ‘Hey... Hey, what’s the matter?’

She felt him turn, but didn’t raise her head. She didn’t want Edward to see the tears.

Too late.

His fingers touched her arm, hesitantly at first, and then more resolute. She felt his arm around her and, try as she might, couldn’t bring herself to break away from him.

‘It’s nothing. Just the music.’

‘Much as I’d like to think that it was my playing that moved you to tears, I doubt it.’

She wanted to hold on to him. It felt so natural to do so. But she shouldn’t. She’d always been a sucker for the quiet type, and the last one she’d got involved with had almost destroyed her life.

‘I...I’m just afraid that I’m going to lose everything. And you’ve been so kind...’

‘You’re not going to lose anything.’

He hugged her tight and she gave in and buried her face against the protective arc of his chest.

‘Did you ring my father this afternoon?’

‘Yeah. I’ve arranged to leave work early tomorrow and go and see him.’

‘Good. You can stop worrying, then. He’ll sort this out for you.’

‘I know. Thank you. I’m just being silly.’

She felt his fingers stroking her hair. Just for a moment, before he snatched his hand away again. This must be torture for someone like Edward. So self-contained, so controlled. He didn’t really do tears. She tried to move away from him, but his arm kept her firmly in place.

‘You’re not being silly. You lost everything once. It’s natural to fear that it’ll happen again.’ He drew back, holding her shoulders tightly. Bending to capture her gaze in his. ‘It’s not going to. You’re going to fight it.’

‘I haven’t got anything to fight with. All my savings are gone, and...’ She couldn’t even say it. The money was just a number. It was the loss of little things that she’d hoped she’d always keep that hurt the most. Memories...presents that people had given her over the years. The cot which, at one time, she’d hoped might see some more use. All Isaac’s baby stuff. It hadn’t fetched much, but every penny had counted when she’d been trying to put the deposit on the house together.

He shook his head. ‘I wish you’d told someone. The clinic might have arranged an employee loan, or if not...’ He pressed his lips together, apparently not wanting to finish the ‘or if not’.

‘I’d only been there for a couple of months. I was just glad to have the job. The extra income meant I could make the mortgage. Anyway...it would just have been another debt that I couldn’t pay back.’

‘So you sold everything you had?’ His grip on her shoulders relaxed and his hands slid down to her elbows.

‘Pretty much.’ Charlotte put it to the back of her mind. ‘But that’s okay. Things are easier now. I’ve had a pay rise, and the first year’s always the worst with a mortgage.’

‘And I guess the extra shifts come in handy?’

He’d noticed, then. The way that she grabbed every bit of overtime that came her way, even though it meant that she had less time to spend with Isaac. ‘Yes, they do.’

‘You’ve worked hard. No one’s going to take that from you. Just explain everything to my father and let him sort it out. And in the meantime you can stay here. Isaac seems...well, he doesn’t seem to mind the arrangement.’

‘You’ve made us both very welcome. Being here has been so good for Isaac.’ It was Edward who had been good for Isaac, not the house. Providing a broad pair of shoulders that her son felt he could rely on. For that matter, he’d been good for Charlotte, as well.

‘You can stay as long as you like.’

‘Thank you. But we won’t outstay our welcome.’

Like always, his smile was reticent, hard won, but all the better for it.

‘Then I think we’ll be okay. I can outlast you.’

No doubt he could. At the moment Charlotte reckoned that she had about ten minutes before she made a fool of herself and threw herself into his arms if she didn’t find something to distract him.

‘Will you play something else?’

* * *

Edward couldn’t get the image out of his head. Charlotte in a dark figure-hugging dress. Something sparkly at her wrist and around her neck and a glass of champagne in her hand. Leaning against the piano, the gold flecks in her eyes reflecting the light better than any jewel could.

He played for a while on autopilot, while he added the fine detail to his vision. Then the real Charlotte broke in, her body warm and moving to the rhythm next to his.

‘You’ll have plenty of offers if you ever decide to give up the day job.’

Her smile made him stop thinking and start feeling as he ran his hands across the keyboard in a short, improvised cascade of notes.

‘I used to play in a bar. When I was at medical school.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It paid better than stacking shelves. And I got to keep the tips as well.’

‘Tips are always good.’

‘Yeah. Made a big difference.’

‘I bet you spent them on books.’

‘Um... Yeah. Okay, you’re making me feel predictable again.’

With Charlotte he could begin to fathom what people saw in small talk. It was easy. Delightful. Maybe they were getting a little too close to flirting, but that would be okay as long as he kept playing. Somehow the music made pretty much anything permissible.

She laughed. ‘I think you’re one of the most unpredictable people I’ve ever met.’

‘Dancing to the beat of a different drum, you mean?’ People had said that to him, and about him, all his life. That he was gifted. Different. That he didn’t need the company of his peers as much as he needed to fulfil his potential.

‘Is it a different drum? I rather thought that it was the same drum, but you just hear it a little more clearly.’

Edward let the thought percolate. ‘That might be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.’

The unexpected idea that words might not be enough to express his feelings on the matter occurred to him. He wanted to hold her again.

She smiled and his theory morphed into a tried and tested fact. Charlotte’s smile held so much more meaning than words, and he allowed himself to bathe in it, feeling its warmth lap against his skin.

He didn’t know how long he played for, and didn’t much care. However long she sat here next to him, her body melting into the rhythm of the music, it wouldn’t be enough.

When finally she drew away, another of those gorgeous smiles on her lips, the world felt suddenly cold.

‘You play wonderfully.’

He nodded in acknowledgement. ‘You listen wonderfully.’ It was more as if she’d been a part of the music, shaping the emotion and cadence with him, although her fingers had never touched the keys.

She laughed, getting to her feet. ‘I should go and get some sleep, though. Thank you for a lovely evening.’

‘My pleasure. We should do this again.’ The words escaped his heart before his head could issue the caution against asking for trouble.

She flushed a little and nodded quickly. ‘Goodnight, Edward.’

He played a short, quiet goodnight, listening to the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. Then he closed the lid over the keys.

Charlotte was everything that he held himself aloof from. The instinct and emotion that he saved only for his music seemed to bleed into her whole life. It was captivating—tantalising, even—but it was a language that he didn’t know how to speak. However much she tried not to disrupt his life, however well-behaved Isaac was, the two of them had the power to turn his well-ordered existence upside down.

Archie roused himself, stretched, and joined him on a restless errand to the kitchen, which had no particular purpose other than his need to go somewhere. Edward poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle they’d opened at dinner, leaving Archie to pounce on his food bowl as if he hadn’t eaten in years, and wandered back into the sitting room. The book that he’d abandoned in favour of going to talk to Charlotte still lay on the sofa, and he picked it up, flipping it open. This, at least, he knew how to handle.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHARLOTTE KNEW THAT Edward would be here somewhere. She hated that she needed to see him so badly, but she had nowhere else to go. She slipped through the reception area, avoiding the last stragglers on their way out of the clinic at 200 Harley Street, and ran up the stairs.

Edward’s office door was closed and locked, but she could see his jacket, slung over the back of his chair. There was only one other place that he could be.

She left her coat and bag on one of the chairs in the closed-up nurses’ station and took the stairs down to the basement. The gym was in darkness, but she could see lights shining through the glass doors which led to the pool.

Suddenly her courage failed her. She’d already accepted too much from Edward. Already allowed herself to get too involved with his life. He was quiet and kind, creative and a little quirky. But then her husband had been quiet and kind, too. She’d thought that she could see hidden depths in him, where actually there had just been an angry void that he’d sought to fill with the thrill he got from risking everything on the cards.

Charlotte turned. She knew that Edward was here, and that at this time in the evening he was probably alone. Walking away was the best thing to do. The only thing to do.

She’d go upstairs to fetch her coat. Then come back down again, using the back stairs, so that no one would see her.

‘What are you doing here?’

She’d been so lost in her own emotions she hadn’t even seen that there was anyone on the stairs below her. Instinctively she turned to run upstairs, but it was too late. Edward had seen her.

It had been him in the swimming pool. His dark hair was still wet, slicked back from his face, and his white shirt was open at the neck. Not sure what to say or do, Charlotte focussed on the logo splashed across the gym bag that was slung over his shoulder.

‘Charlotte...?’ He was standing two steps below her now, and they were face to face. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ Everything. ‘I just forgot something and popped back...’

The whole difficulty of dealing with Edward was that excuses were practically impossible to get away with—unless, of course, you had the time to construct a well-thought-out, fully featured alibi.

He raised one eyebrow in disbelief and shooed her up the stairs.

‘Come to my office.’ His keys were in his hand already, and he strode past the deserted nurses’ station and unlocked the door, motioning her in. He slung his bag on the floor, in the corner, and sat down in his high-backed leather chair.

‘I feel as if I’m being hauled up in front of the beak.’ Small talk was the one thing that she was better at than Edward. Her only chance.

His brow clouded, but then he refused to take the bait. ‘Why don’t you sit down, then?’

‘Do I need to?’

‘You don’t need to do anything. It’s an invitation.’

He leaned back in his chair, propping one foot on the desk, and Charlotte slumped down into one of the visitors’ chairs.

‘So...what is it, then?’ One last try at putting the ball in his court. Making Edward talk first.

‘I...um...’

He seemed suddenly hesitant. Maybe she was going to get her way after all. They could go home, she’d make dinner, and then on the excuse of an early night she could go and cry into her pillow. That was the thing she should have done in the first place—not come running to Edward every time something went wrong.

He tried again. ‘There seems to be something wrong. I was wondering how the meeting with my father went...’ He backtracked slightly. ‘Not in detail. I wouldn’t presume to interfere with a confidential exchange between lawyer and client...’

There was no such thing as a simple question in Edward’s vocabulary; there was always some accompanying detail. The way his mind worked made Charlotte smile, however bad things were. ‘No. I’m sure you wouldn’t.’

‘It’s just a broad brush enquiry. About whether you’re happy as a result of...whatever it was that was said.’

‘Your father was very kind.’

Straight spikes of hair had begun to fall across his forehead, and when he smiled it looked almost rakish.

‘Good. And apart from being kind...?’

‘He’s offered to represent me, and I’ve accepted. I gave him some details on the phone yesterday, and he’s already got an investigator to follow up on them. He’s thought of everything.’

Edward nodded. ‘I imagine he has. There’s no need to worry.’

Her heart was almost tearing itself apart with panic. ‘No. I’m sure there isn’t.’

He got to his feet, unhooking his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I guess I should call your bluff and just take you home, then.’

‘Peter applied for a loan in Isaac’s name. One of those quickie ones you can get on the internet.’ Charlotte couldn’t help it. She’d blurted out what she’d come to say—what she knew that Edward couldn’t mend, but somehow wanted him to know.

He slumped back down into his chair, shock on his face. ‘Did he get it?’

‘No, thank goodness. And your father’s going to do all he can to protect Isaac from that happening again.’ Charlotte could feel her shoulders beginning to droop, but the effort of keeping her spine straight was finally too much to do anything about it.

‘And what about the phone bill that you were being chased for?’

‘He’s putting pressure on the phone company to leave me alone. It seems that there’s a bit of a mix-up with names and I might be facing a few more where that one came from.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘A mix-up? How could that have involved you?’

She’d faced a pair of blue eyes and a sharp legal mind once already this afternoon. Edward’s were as kind as his father’s, but somehow much more challenging. The truth had been easier the first time around.

‘When Peter and I were living together...’

Tears again. What must Edward think of her?

‘Hey...’ He rounded his desk, dragged one of the heavy armchairs over towards hers and sat down opposite her, leaning forward until his hands almost touched hers. ‘It’s okay, Charlotte. I just want to help.’

All she wanted right now was to feel his arms around her. If Edward was on her side she could do anything, be all kinds of strong. She met those blue eyes again. They gave her courage for the thing that damned her the most.

‘The phone bill dates back to when Peter and I were living together. He must have taken the contract out in my name and...’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t know about that phone—it was his second one. He had someone else.’

His face became cold, as if she’d just slapped him. ‘You mean he’s expecting you to pay for the calls he made to his mistress? While you were living with him?’ Edward shook his head angrily. ‘Oh, no...you’re not doing that.’

She reached for him, but he wasn’t there. He was too angry now even to see her, and he sprang to his feet and started to pace the office like a caged tiger.

‘Edward. Please, don’t... Peter probably didn’t think of it like that. He doesn’t think anything through. The phone was registered at my old address and it’s up to me to prove it isn’t mine...’

‘Don’t make excuses for him, Charlotte.’

Her own anger flared in response to his. ‘I’m not. I’m just trying to work out what happened...’

‘And if you keep on taking his side you’ll always be a victim.’

‘Oh, so that’s what you think, is it?’ She was on her feet, catching his arm, forcing him to face her. ‘I am not a victim. I’ve stood on my own two feet since Peter left me, provided for Isaac...’ She took a deep breath. Shouting wasn’t going to do any good, and if there was anyone still in the building they’d be sure to hear them.

‘I know.’ Edward’s rage turned abruptly cold. ‘But this is not your responsibility.’

‘No, it isn’t. But there’s another child, too—a little girl. She’s not my responsibility either, but I still can’t help thinking that somewhere out there that child’s mother is going to be facing the same thing that I did. I might not like her very much, but I can feel for her.’

‘There’s a baby?’

‘Not a baby—a child. She’ll be three years old now.’

He didn’t need to be a genius to be able to do that particular calculation. Peter hadn’t just had someone else while he was living with her, he’d had a child as well.

‘You’ve told my father this?’

‘Yes. I said that he could do whatever it took as far as Peter was concerned, but that I wouldn’t go out of my way to implicate his partner if there’s been any fraud. That’s my decision, Edward, whether you like it or not.’

Warmth bloomed in his face. ‘Most people wouldn’t be so forgiving.’

‘I’m not either. I don’t forgive her, but I won’t hurt her daughter. She’s no more responsible for any of this than Isaac is.’

‘Maybe the best thing you can do for this woman is to show her exactly what she’s got herself into...’

‘That’s what your father said.’

‘Must be right, then.’ A ghost of a grin shimmered on his mouth.

‘I suppose so. But all I really want to do is to be free of Peter. Your father’s agreed to review my divorce papers, to see if there’s anything I’ve missed, and to do all he can to push it through without any hitches. That’s a big weight off my mind.’

He nodded. ‘My dad’s not going to let you down. Once he gets his teeth into something he’s like a dog with a bone, and he won’t let up until he’s got everything sorted out.’

She could smile now. His impassioned rage had shown that Edward didn’t just pity her. He hadn’t shrunk from demanding answers from her, asking the really hard questions.

‘That’s something you both have in common. I appreciate it more than I can say.’

He gave the customary small nod, which said he’d heard. A smile which said he’d understood.

‘I should go now. I need to pick Isaac up soon.’

He shook his head. ‘One more minute.’ His back was against the door and he was leaning on it, his arms folded. ‘I’m afraid it’s no more Mr Nice Guy, Charlotte.’

She swallowed. Edward was getting darker and more dangerous again. She had to admit that she rather liked it.

‘Really?’ She took a step forward, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. If he wanted another confrontation he could have it.

‘Yeah. You can put up a fight if you like, but you and Isaac are staying on with me until this is all sorted out. However long it takes.’

‘We’ve had this conversation before...’

‘And we can have it again if you want. You’ll tell me that you don’t want to impose, I’ll say that you and Isaac are no trouble and that I like having you both around, and then you’ll give me that look...’ He grinned. ‘The one that you’re giving me right now...’

‘And...?’

‘And you’ll say that you and Isaac have managed on your own up till now, that you don’t need anyone.’

‘That’s not quite true...’

‘No, it’s not. You’ll say it anyway, though, just to put me in my place.’

That smile of his didn’t have a place. Neither did Edward.

‘You’re reading my mind now, are you?’ Just as long as he couldn’t access the part of her imagination that was engaged in stripping his shirt from his shoulders. Running its hungry fingers over his skin and allowing him to back her against the desk...

He narrowed his eyes and she shivered. There was something tender about the curve of his lips, something raw about the look in his eyes. ‘I should warn you that I have a Joker up my sleeve.’

She nodded. ‘Isaac. You’ll say he’s happy where he is and it would be wrong to put him through any more upset. That I might be able to see the debt collectors off, but I can’t protect him from the stress.’

John North had said as much, advising her that if she had somewhere else to stay she should do so.

Edward nodded. His gaze flipped quickly to the sofa, which was relegated to the one corner of his office that wasn’t lined with bookshelves, and then back again to her face. Maybe he really was reading her mind. The sofa would be admittedly more comfortable than the desk.

‘And I’d be right?’

‘Yes. You’d be right.’

The smile that made his eyes seem impossibly blue, the one that he had no trouble in sharing with Isaac, was all for her this time. ‘Are we done, then?’

Not by any stretch of the imagination. ‘I suppose so.’

‘And your answer...?’

‘Thank you. Isaac and I would like to stay.’

At least he had the grace to nod, as if the outcome of this particular skirmish hadn’t been a foregone conclusion.

He stepped away from the door, hooking up his jacket and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder. ‘Let’s get out of here. What’s for dinner?’

* * *

She’d tried to palm him off with peppered steak, but Edward had rather liked the idea of eating early and sharing pizza with Charlotte and Isaac. He liked the execution even better.

Isaac stood on a chair, a folded-down apron tied around him, dipping into bowls of sliced tomatoes and mushrooms to decorate his pizza. This was the kind of fun he hadn’t had in a long time, and the feeling that the woman and child he so wanted to protect were here, safe with him...

Edward paused for a moment to consider whether safe and with him weren’t in fact a contradiction of terms and then gave up the unequal struggle. For tonight it was more than enough to know that they were having fun, and that he was there to turn back anyone who came knocking on the door.

‘So who’s this meant to be, then?’

A grave face stared out at him from Isaac’s pizza.

‘It’s...’ Isaac had a showman’s mastery of the expectant pause ‘...you!’

‘Me?’ Edward ignored the stifled giggle behind him. ‘I don’t look very happy.’

‘That’s your thinking face.’

‘Ah. Well, I suppose that’s all right, then.’

‘What’s yours?’ Isaac peered across at Edward’s pizza, and would have toppled off the chair if Edward hadn’t shot a hand out to steady him.

‘It’s...just a pattern.’ He was beginning to learn that details could get him into trouble.

Isaac twisted his head from one side to the other. Edward wondered whether the complex symmetry was really so beyond him, and came to the conclusion that somewhere, on a chiefly instinctive level, he understood.

‘It’s different from Mum’s.’

Charlotte had decorated her pizza with swirls and curlicues of tomato, mushrooms and olives.

‘Well, your mum and I are different. We like different things.’

‘Hmm...’

Isaac returned to his pizza, adding another mushroom to Edward’s brow to indicate a stray lock of hair, leaving Edward to contemplate the essential differences between himself and Charlotte and thank his lucky stars that Isaac hadn’t asked him to enumerate them.

The evening was warm, and while the pizzas baked in the oven Edward opened the French doors onto the patio, spreading a cloth on the table and unstacking the chairs. They ate together in the evening sunshine, and as the shadows lengthened Isaac was allowed to get down from the table. Edward fetched a ball for him to play football in the garden.

‘Mind the flowers, sweetie.’

Charlotte was down on her knees, her arms around her son, talking quietly to him the way she did when she had anything serious to say.

‘You can play there, on the lawn, but don’t kick the ball too hard.’

It didn’t matter. Isaac could have flattened every last one of the flowers in his garden and Edward wouldn’t have cared. But Charlotte was his mother, and she wanted to teach him respect for the things around him, so Edward said nothing.

‘How are you doing?’ As the daylight failed the light in her eyes seemed to fail as well. The effort of getting through today was beginning to tell on her.

She smiled at him. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Her gaze shot back towards Isaac as the ball veered close to the flowerbeds and he ran to pick it up. ‘You’ve been such a star, Edward.’

Warmth suffused the whole of his body. Edward made a difference every day. The complex surgery he performed had the power to change people’s lives, and it would be false modesty to claim that he didn’t do it well. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t believe that he excelled at it. But that was different. Somehow making just the slightest difference in Charlotte’s life had the power to move him more than the considerable satisfaction he got from his job.

‘I might see if Isaac wants a hand with the football in a moment.’

Her laugh was sweet and clear. Closer to the laugh that had filtered into his consciousness more than once at work, jolting him suddenly out of whatever he was doing.

‘If he thinks he’s got someone to play football with he won’t give you a moment’s peace. I don’t want to keep you from anything else...’

The books would still be there tomorrow. So would the paper he was writing. This moment would be gone.

Edward stood, rolled up his shirtsleeves and prepared to take on the simple intricacies of the Beautiful Game.

* * *

She had put Isaac to bed and only returned downstairs for long enough to bid him goodnight. Edward knew why, and he hated it. She’d faced the day, but now she needed to fall apart—and she was determined to do that alone.

He spent a miserable hour trying to review the notes of a young surgeon he was mentoring, and then climbed the stairs. He could hear a quiet, muffled sound coming from Charlotte’s room. She was crying.

Should he tap on her door?

No. Late in the evening, her bedroom, offering solace... Things didn’t get much more hazardous than that. He’d have to comfort her, take her into his arms, perhaps. Feel the softness of her body against his own taut, screaming frame. It wasn’t a good idea. On the other hand just carrying on along the hallway and going to bed was impossible.

Edward sank to the floor at the top of the stairs. Waited. If he couldn’t console her, the least he could do was watch over her—even if she’d never know he’d been there.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHARLOTTE GREETED HIM the next morning with hot coffee, toast and a smile. Her capacity to smile never ceased to impress Edward, as did her ability to bounce back from whatever life threw at her.

‘So it’s the Lighthouse this morning.’ She seemed to be looking forward to it.

‘Yes. Sure you’re up to it?’

She’d already had a hell of a week, and it was only Wednesday.

‘Of course.’ She settled into the front seat of his car. ‘Why? Do you have any concerns?’

‘No. I think it’s a great idea for you to come and talk to Mercy before she’s transferred over into the clinic’s care. I wish I’d thought of it myself.’

He had, actually. He just hadn’t been quite sure how to broach the subject. When Leo Hunter had suggested it, Edward’s concerns that he might be seen to be favouring Charlotte above any of the other nurses had been put to rest.

‘Lizzie didn’t tell me much about Mercy. Just that she was very frightened about being in the hospital, and it took the nurses there a long time to calm her.’

‘Yes, it did. That’s why you’ll be with her for all the procedures that we’re going to do at the clinic. So that she’s always got a familiar face to reassure her.’

She smiled. Mercy was going to love that smile.

‘I’ll do my best for her.’

Charlotte snapped into work mode as soon as they entered the doors of the hospital, following quietly behind him, listening carefully to everything that was said. Edward stopped at the nurses’ station and caught the attention of a trainee nurse who seemed to have nothing to do.

‘Will you get me Mercy’s notes, please?’

The nurse jumped to attention, handing him the file. ‘She had a good night last night. Woke up a few times, but she wasn’t crying the way she did before.’

‘Good. This is Charlotte King. She’s going to be looking after Mercy when she comes to the Hunter Clinic.’ He squinted at the nurse’s name badge, because he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name. ‘Charlotte, this is Kendra.’

Charlotte ignored Kendra’s dismissive look and stepped forward. ‘Hi, Kendra. It’s good to hear that Mercy’s been so well looked after here.’

Kendra sniffed, obviously feeling that her role as a very junior nurse at one of the best children’s hospitals in the country made her in some way superior to Charlotte. She had a lot to learn.

‘You’re a qualified nurse?’

‘Yes, I’m an RN. Working towards being a Nurse Practitioner,’ Charlotte replied quietly. She didn’t seem to mind Kendra’s attitude, however much it rankled with Edward.

‘Charlotte!’ A voice behind them made her turn. ‘How good to see you—how are you?’

The senior nurse who greeted Charlotte obviously knew her well. Kendra realised her mistake and disappeared out of range as quickly as she could, followed by a small smirk of satisfaction from Edward.

‘So how’s Isaac?’ Sandra Morton gave Edward a brief nod and then turned back to Charlotte.

‘Oh, growing up. He’s going to school now.’

‘Really? Yes, I suppose he must be. He was such a cute baby. And how’s Peter?’

A small pause.

Edward wasn’t sure whether he should intervene or not, and decided that Charlotte was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself. Much better than he could, probably. He started to leaf through Mercy’s notes.

‘Actually, I haven’t seen him for a while. He left.’

‘No! But he was such a nice guy—’ Sandra stopped herself. ‘Obviously not.’

‘It just didn’t work out. But everything’s good now.’

‘Great. I hear you’re working at the Hunter Clinic?’

‘That’s right. I’m here with Mr North to see one of your patients.’

‘Ah, Mercy. Well, I’m glad to see that you’ll be looking after her. The kid’s had a bad time, and she deserves the best.’

Charlotte grinned. ‘She’ll get it. Just as she has here.’

Sandra nodded. There was clearly a great deal of mutual esteem between the two women and it warmed Edward to see Charlotte being treated with the respect she deserved.

‘Well, I’d better get going. Call me some time—or I’ll call you. Maybe we can go out one evening?’

‘Yes. It’s good to see you, Sandra.’

Charlotte turned back to Edward, and he flipped a page in the notes in front of him.

‘You can stop pretending to read now...’ She leaned towards him, whispering.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Your eyes aren’t moving.’

Fair enough. Edward hadn’t thought that anyone would notice that he was staring at the same word on the page in front of him, listening to what the women were saying.

‘I know what it says, anyway.’ He snapped the notes shut.

‘Can you fill me in on Mercy’s history? Before we go to see her?’

‘Yes, sure.’ Edward looked at the sign above the door of the conference room and saw that it was empty. ‘Let’s go in here.’

He sat down, and Charlotte took a seat opposite him. He’d seen her at the clinic, and he knew that she was great at her job, but she always made it seem so natural. This change in context let him see just how professional she was.

‘We don’t know much about Mercy’s background. She’s thirteen years old, an orphan, and was clearly fending for herself for a while before being picked up by one of the charities working in the area. They’ve found a new adoptive family for her, back in Africa, and by all accounts she’s very happy with them. She’s been going to school and doing well.’

‘Sounds good so far. Have they accompanied her to the UK?’

‘No, she’s staying with a foster family. I’ve spoken with the mother and she seems to be doing an excellent job. The problem is that Mercy doesn’t want to talk about what happened to her before she was taken in by the charity.’

‘So you’ve not been able to take a detailed medical history?’

‘Yes and no. We know what’s the matter with her, but I’d like to know what caused some of her problems as well. For instance, she has a perforated eardrum.’

‘Hmm... Not usually a result of trauma. Although it sounds like a good probability in this case.’

Charlotte pressed her lips together in thought, and Edward ignored the little thrill of pleasure that seemed to accompany all his dealings with her.

‘Your first objective is just to let her get to know you, though. See if you can reassure her so that she feels she’s got a friend at the Hunter Clinic. Any information you can get is a bonus.’

‘Okay. What else do I need to know?’

‘She’s here for surgery on a healed Buruli Ulcer.’

‘That’s a bacterial infection, isn’t it?’

Edward nodded, pleased that Charlotte wasn’t slow in asking for more information when she needed it. ‘Yes, that’s right. A Buruli Ulcer is relatively easy to treat when it’s caught early, but if it’s not—as was the case here—patients can develop large ulcers which result in disabilities and restricted joint movement as the scars heal. In Mercy’s case there was a contracture which had multiple joint involvements—hand, wrist and elbow.’

He scrunched his own arm up to demonstrate the way that Mercy’s arm and hand had been folded tightly in on themselves and Charlotte winced.

‘Poor kid. It must have hurt like nothing I can imagine.’

‘She’s been through a lot. But the operation to straighten the limb, grafting in new material where necessary, was a success.’

‘You did it?’

‘Yes.’

That warmth again, as if her smile were caressing him. Pride because she cared that it had been Edward who had carried out the precise skin and muscle grafts which would restore some of the movement in Mercy’s arm and hand.

‘How much mobility will she recover?’

He shook his head. ‘Difficult to say at this stage. But the prognosis is good, and if she keeps her physiotherapy up she should do well. That’s another thing I want you to look at. She needs to be committed to this, and to understand how important it is for her to continue the things that she’s being taught when she goes home.’

‘Right. Okay, then. So I’m working on her heart, not her medical condition.’

‘Primarily. Although she’s going to need nurse-led care at the Hunter Clinic and you’ll be providing that.’

If anyone could do it, Charlotte could.

* * *

When Edward ushered Charlotte into Mercy’s room she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. She found that Edward hadn’t been quite honest with her.

The girl’s face lit up when Edward smiled at her. ‘Hello, Mercy. How are you today?’

‘I am well, Dr Edward.’

‘I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve brought someone to see you.’

Mercy’s dark eyes never left Edward’s face. If he reckoned that his quiet kindness hadn’t got through to her, then he was fooling himself. Charlotte began to wonder what she was doing here. Edward had clearly underestimated his own capacity to reassure the girl.

There was tenderness in his eyes as he spoke again. ‘Nurse Charlotte is going to look after you when you come to see me at the clinic. She’s come to meet you.’

Mercy gave Charlotte a small nod.

‘I’ll...um...leave you, then.’ Edward seemed suddenly at a loss as to what to do next.

‘No. Please stay. Just for a few minutes.’

Charlotte didn’t share Edward’s conviction that she could gain Mercy’s confidence instantly, through some magical process that he knew nothing about.

She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Mercy’s bed. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Mercy. I hope that I can be your friend.’

Mercy nodded again, clearly deciding to adopt a wait-and-see policy. Charlotte was going to have to prove herself, but that was okay.

‘I’ve brought you some pictures of my family.’ She had photographs in her bag—of herself with Isaac when he was a baby, together with some more recent ones, and some precious images of her parents. ‘Would you like to see them?’

‘Yes.’

That was a start. Charlotte began with the picture of Isaac. ‘This is my son. His name is Isaac, and he was born on a Saturday.’

Mercy studied the picture carefully. ‘Then in my country he would be called Kwame.’

Edward’s curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward. ‘For Saturday?’

‘Yes.’

‘I was born on a Friday.’

Mercy smiled. ‘Nurse Efie.’

Charlotte grinned. ‘That’s a lovely name. Thank you for telling me. What’s yours?’

‘Abena. My English name is Mercy.’

‘You have a lovely smile, Mercy Abena.’

* * *

Charlotte had been alone with Mercy for almost an hour when Edward’s phone beeped. He checked the text which had just arrived and made for Mercy’s room. Charlotte was waiting for him outside the door.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ She looked nervous, moving her weight slightly from one foot to the other.

‘You said “asap”.’

Charlotte wasn’t one of those people who peppered all of her communications with either ‘asap’ or ‘urgent’. When she said it, she meant it.

‘I’ve noticed something...about Mercy.’ She seemed almost reticent to tell him.

‘Right. What have you seen?’

‘It may be nothing...’

‘What have you seen, Charlotte?’

She took a breath and seemed to loosen up slightly. ‘We were talking together, getting on fine, and then all of a sudden she seemed to zone out. It only lasted for a little over ten seconds.’

He nodded, turning the various possibilities over in his mind. ‘The nurses have said that she seems very withdrawn sometimes. Do you think it could just be her mental state?’

‘Maybe.’ She clasped her hands together—a small, nervous gesture. ‘It doesn’t feel like that to me.’

‘Okay. What does it feel like?’ This wasn’t his normal method of diagnosis, but he was willing to give Charlotte the space to prove him wrong.

‘I think she may be having Absence Seizures.’

‘Epilepsy?’

Charlotte nodded. ‘Her eyes rolled back, very briefly, and her eyelids fluttered a little. I leant forward and put my hand on her arm and she didn’t react. Afterwards she didn’t seem to have any recollection of what had happened.’

‘That was quick thinking. Well done.’ Most people would have attributed a short period of absence to being the daydream of a teenager, far from home and trying to block out what was happening around her.

‘I could be wrong. I looked on her notes and no one else has reported anything like this.’

Edward shrugged. ‘Which just means you’re a bit more observant than the rest of us.’

It wasn’t only that. Charlotte had a habit of looking at people when she talked to them, giving them her full attention. Until he’d met her he hadn’t realised just how few people really did that.

She flushed pink with pleasure. ‘So you’ll take a look at her? Ask her about it?’

‘Nope.’ He turned towards Mercy’s door, twisting the handle. ‘You’re going to do that. I’ll watch and learn.’

She was cheerful and relaxed with Mercy, as if nothing had happened, sitting down by her bed and motioning Edward to do the same. Charlotte worked her way round to the subject of the seizure quickly, but deftly, as if it was just another routine set of questions which had to be asked.

‘When we were talking together just now you seemed to lose me for a moment. Dr Edward and I would like to ask you about that, if it’s all right with you?’

‘There is...nothing.’ The sudden look of hostility in Mercy’s eyes spoke far louder than her words.

‘I’m sure there isn’t. But can we ask, all the same?’

Charlotte leaned towards Mercy, a look of gentle encouragement on her face, and Mercy shrugged.

‘Okay, then. Well, you seemed not to hear or see me for a little while. Has that happened to you before?’

Mercy’s gaze flipped sullenly from Charlotte to Edward, then back again.

‘It doesn’t make you a bad person, Mercy. A little boy in my son’s class at school has the same thing.’

‘He does?’

‘Mmm-hmm. The doctors can stop it, though. Dr Edward could stop it.’

‘Can you?’ Mercy’s gaze fixed on Edward.

‘Yes.’ He wondered whether he should say more and decided not to. Charlotte would fill in any of the details that she thought were necessary.

‘We’ll have to do some tests.’

Apparently a quick wrinkle of the nose was enough to help describe a blood test to rule anything else out, and an EEG which would pick up any unusual electrical activity in Mercy’s brain.

‘They’re okay. They don’t hurt.’

‘And you can cure it?’

‘Of course. If it’s what we think it might be, then it might well just stop all of its own accord when you get a bit older. In the meantime we can stop it.’ Charlotte reached forward, taking Mercy’s hand. ‘But Dr Edward needs to know all about this first, so he can do the right thing.’

Mercy hesitated. ‘Some people say that this is a bad spirit...’

‘No. It’s nothing like that, Mercy. Trust me. Sometimes we just...skip a beat for a few moments.’ Mercy looked unconvinced, and Charlotte tried again. ‘Dr Edward told you that he could make your arm better, didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he did, right?’ She waited for Mercy’s nod. ‘Then ask him if this has anything to do with bad spirits.’

Mercy seemed disinclined to ask a second time, but Edward answered anyway. ‘It’s nothing to do with anything like that, I promise you. It’s an illness, and we can make you well with medicine.’

Mercy nodded. ‘I do skip a beat sometimes.’

‘How often? How many times every day?’ Edward leaned forward.

‘Three or four. Sometimes more.’

Charlotte nodded, as if that was just the right number of times to ‘skip a beat’ every day. ‘And how long has this been happening?’

Mercy shrugged. ‘Always.’

‘Mmm...’ Charlotte seemed to approve of that, too, although Edward couldn’t see its significance. ‘So is it all right if we do the tests, then? Like I said, they won’t hurt.’

‘Yes, Nurse Efie.’

A quick nod of her head and she turned to Edward. ‘Blood test?’

‘It’s what I’d do.’ He couldn’t resist teasing her, just a little. ‘Want me to go and fetch a kit for you?’

She rolled her eyes at him to conceal her smile. ‘No. I’ll go.’

* * *

‘Nurse Efie, eh?’ Edward leaned against the railings of the hospital’s roof garden, the breeze rearranging his hair into the maverick version of his usual clean-cut style. ‘So come on, then. What’s mine?’

‘I didn’t ask. You can find out for yourself. Mercy will tell you.’ Charlotte took a sip of her coffee. ‘She really likes you. Says that you’re kind.’

‘Does she?’ The idea seemed to surprise him.

‘So what’s wrong with being kind?’ She grinned up at him.

‘Nothing. I try to be kind. I’m not as good with people as you are, though.’

‘I think you underestimate yourself. Didn’t you see her face when you walked into her room this morning?’

Either Edward didn’t have an answer to that, or he wasn’t sharing. ‘So what made you cotton on to the name thing?’

‘The mother of one of my patients told me, years ago. Apparently it’s quite important which day you were born on in some parts of Africa. I just gave her the information about when Isaac was born to see if she’d pick up on it.’

Edward nodded. ‘I’ll have to find out a bit more about that...’

‘Poor old Archie. He’s not going to have his name changed, is he?’

‘I don’t think so. It would probably confuse him. Cats are all instinct and not much brain.’ He took another sip of coffee. ‘So I’ve put a call in to the Head of Neurology. Is there anything else I should know? I’m wondering whether there’s any connection between the seizures that Mercy’s been having and the burst eardrum?’

‘I don’t think so. We mainly just talked, but Mercy said that after her parents died she lived with an uncle. I think that was when she was beaten, because she said that her aunt made her deaf.’

Edward shook his head, staring at his coffee. ‘Someone would have had to hit her pretty hard.’

‘Yes. But she was having the seizures before then. So hopefully the two things are unconnected and the seizures aren’t a result of brain damage.’

She looked up at Edward and he blinked quickly. Took a swig of his coffee, and then wiped his eye.

‘Something in your eye?’

‘No. Yes, probably.’ Whatever it was it seemed to be a source of embarrassment.

‘Want me to take a look?’

‘I think I’ll manage.’ He took another mouthful of coffee. ‘These kids... We have to do something...’

Charlotte laid her hand on his arm. Tried not to think about the way the hard muscle flexed at her touch and to convince herself that this was simple reassurance. ‘You are doing something. You’ve given her back the use of her arm. She knows that, and she says that she’s going to exercise every day.’

‘It’s not enough.’

‘It’s what we can do.’

If the other nurses at the clinic could see them now. Edward, impassioned and almost weeping over a patient. Charlotte, resorting to reason and logic. It was so unexpected as to be almost bizarre.

‘I know.’ He drained his cup and dropped it into hers, scrunching the two together to make a ball, which he lobbed into the nearest recycling bin. ‘I want you there when Mercy has the EEG, to reassure her that no bad spirits are out to get her. I’ll clear it with Leo.’

‘Thanks. And thanks for listening.’

‘You were right. You’ve done a really good job here today.’

His praise meant a lot. More than a lot. Everyone at the clinic knew that Edward’s praise had to be earned. Charlotte felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. ‘Thanks. I’d like to just pop in and say goodbye to her before we go. Tell her that I’ll be back soon.’

He grinned. ‘Do that. Then I’d better be getting you back to the clinic, or Lizzie will have my hide for kidnapping you.’

CHAPTER NINE

IT WAS CLEAR when Leo Hunter telephoned to check whether Edward had anything he’d like to raise at this afternoon’s review meeting that he was not expecting him to attend. Leo knew him well enough to understand that Edward’s pledge to support the new charity arm of the Hunter Clinic was on the level of research, operating procedures and maintaining clinical excellence. It didn’t involve attending meetings which didn’t deal with those goals.

The usual procedure was that Leo informed him that a meeting was taking place, more as a gesture of courtesy than anything else, and Edward tendered his apologies and read the minutes when they were circulated. That had always worked perfectly.

‘You mean you’re considering some research?’ Leo’s voice sounded perplexed.

‘No, not really. Well, maybe if something presents itself. I’m just interested in how we can help these kids outside of simply giving them the medical treatment they need.’

There was a pause and Edward shook the handset of his phone, wondering if the line had suddenly gone dead, before realising that Leo was just taking his time in getting his head around the proposition. Edward’s forte had always been in the operating theatre, making clinical decisions and implementing them. That was his skillset. He usually left community issues to someone else.

‘I’ll see you later, then.’ Leo still sounded a bit suspicious. ‘We’ve had to move the time from four o’clock to six, in order to fit in with the operating schedules.’

Edward’s heart sank. Six o’clock. He’d been to his share of these meetings, and they were renowned for going on until late into the night. Usually he’d be the last to object, but tonight... Actually, he wasn’t doing anything tonight. But he’d been rather looking forward to doing nothing with Charlotte and Isaac.

All the same, he’d just asked for this and it seemed grudging to turn it down now. ‘I’m free at six. I’ll see you then.’

* * *

Edward got home at ten o’ clock. Isaac was already in bed, and he hadn’t expected to have a meal waiting for him, but within moments of him depositing the armful of papers that he’d brought home onto the hall table Charlotte was calling him into the kitchen

‘Is that enough?’ She surveyed the full plate, with three different kinds of salad and a large slice of home-made quiche.

‘Are you mad? You obviously don’t have any idea what I usually manage to feed myself when I get home late.’

His diet was relatively balanced, and usually healthy, but when Edward was busy cooking didn’t figure much in the equation.

She dismissed his customary eating habits with a small sniff and walked over to the fridge. ‘Would you like some juice? Or there’s some of that sparkling fruit cordial left over.’

‘I’ll have a glass of wine, if you’ll join me.’ Edward put his knife and fork down and got to his feet.

‘Stay there. I’ll get it.’ She walked to the wine cooler and opened the glass door, her hand hovering over the rows of bottles.

‘That one...’ Edward indicated a light, fruity white, and nodded when she pulled it out, holding it up so he could see the label.

He was beginning to see what his father saw in marriage. Not the meal on the table, or the fact that the lights were on in the house, but just that there was someone there. Someone to share the little things with—eating and drinking. Someone to talk to. Somehow the fact that Isaac was asleep upstairs and Charlotte was relaxing here downstairs gave Edward an immense feeling of well-being.

‘I’ve got some treacle tart for afters.’ She took a dish out of the fridge and put it into the oven to warm, then carried the bottle over to the table.

‘Mmm. I love treacle tart. I haven’t had it in years. And this quiche is really good, thank you.’

Edward opened the wine, and poured a glass for her. She took a sip and smiled.

‘This is nice.’

The bottle probably cost more than the whole of the rest of the meal, but Edward wasn’t about to tell her that. You couldn’t buy what made the food so special and the wine so incidental. It was all about the cooking and the care that had gone into the preparation. About the knife and fork set precisely on the table, with a napkin and a glass. The flowers from the garden—just a couple of blooms—in a jug that usually lived under the sink.

‘I’ve been stuck in a meeting for hours. It’s good to get home.’

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Which meeting was that?’

‘Oh, one of Leo’s. Reviewing the progress of the charity arm of the clinic.’ Edward wondered whether she’d pick up on the unlikeliness of the whole thing.

‘Really?’

If she had, it looked as if she’d decided not to ask.

‘Yes. Leo seemed really pleased. There’s a lot of progress being made.’

She nodded. ‘So Leo and Ethan are getting on a little better?’ It was an open secret that while the brothers remained professional in their dealings with the staff, they had what was euphemistically termed ‘issues’ with each other.

‘Looks like it. Leo was praising Ethan’s work, and Ethan looked genuinely pleased. A little bit surprised, as well.’

‘I imagine Ethan felt he had to prove himself when he came back.’ Charlotte was staring speculatively at her wine glass.

‘I don’t see why. Ethan’s a superb surgeon.’

‘Oh, Edward!’ She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘It’s not all about how good you are at something. Ethan could be the best surgeon in the world, but he’s still recovering from his injuries. He had to feel that there was an element of pity involved when Leo brought him back into the practice.’

‘Yeah, I suppose anyone would. I think Ethan’s realised that was never the case, though, and that Leo wanted him back for his medical skills. He was talking about the work that Leo had put into regaining the Hunter Clinic’s reputation as well.’

‘Really? That’s good. Sounds as if they’ve got a bit more respect for each other now. So how’s everything else going?’

‘There are a lot of possibilities for expanding the charity side of the operation. Community issues to be taken into consideration—’ He broke off as Charlotte hid a smile behind her hand. ‘What?’

‘You’ve been engaging in chit-chat about community issues, have you?’

He didn’t blame her for her amused disbelief—he’d been both disbelieving and slightly amused himself. ‘Well, someone’s got to think about it.’

‘And that’s you, all of a sudden?’ She couldn’t disguise the warmth in her eyes.

‘Maybe. We’ll see. Anyway, I have some really interesting opportunities in the pipeline, both at the clinic and at the Lighthouse Hospital. And there’s an opportunity for me to join one of the teams visiting Africa for a few weeks. I’d like to hear what you think.’

He paused, aware that he didn’t usually do this either. Edward made his own decisions about the way his career was going to go, without any reference to anyone else. But suddenly he not only wanted to tell Charlotte, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

‘That sounds fantastic. I want to hear everything.’

She pointed at the food in front of him, which had all but completely slipped his mind in his enthusiasm.

‘Finish your meal first, though...’

‘Yeah. Then I’ll tell you all about it.’

* * *

They talked for an hour, and then Charlotte’s rapt attention was overtaken by fatigue. Edward turned to a book, and when he lifted his eyes after only a page she was asleep. He lifted her feet gently up onto the sofa, put a cushion beneath her head, and went back to his reading.

Calmed by the low sound of her breathing, he let the words on the page fly through his mind, forming pictures and patterns as they went. It was as if her very presence made him more receptive—somehow more creative. The raw excitement of new thoughts, new challenges, reared up and dragged him headlong into the heady world of new possibilities that he so loved.

A sound penetrated his consciousness. Something outside in the hallway. The kind of thing that he would normally never heed, but which now somehow managed to jar all his instincts and set his nerves onto red alert.

He rose quietly and went to investigate.

‘Hey, buddy. What’s the matter?’

Isaac was at the front door, clutching Stinky with one hand and trying to pull the door open with the other. He ignored Edward, redoubling his efforts.

He should probably go and wake Charlotte. But she was sleeping so soundly, so peacefully. He could at least give this a go before he did so. Walking over to Isaac, he went down on one knee beside him.

‘You want to go out?’

Isaac shook his head, giving the door one last tug.

‘Ah, I see. You’re just checking that we’re locked up safely for the night. That no one can get in.’

Isaac nodded, staring at the floor as if he was being hauled up in front of the headmaster in disgrace.

‘Right, then. That’s a good idea. Let’s do it together.’ Edward imagined that Isaac probably wanted Charlotte to accompany him, and when the boy curled his arms around his neck he almost jumped back in surprise.

‘Okay.’

‘Well, let’s fetch your dressing gown, then, so you don’t get cold. And we can have a story afterwards if you’d like.’

Isaac nodded, and Edward hoisted him up in his arms. Lifting that small weight made him feel stronger than normal. As if he was some kind of superhero who could make things right and conquer all manner of monsters—even the ones in Isaac’s head.

Surgeon and Dragon-Slayer General. Edward quite liked the sound of that. And if one involved precision instruments, the other involved a large sword which could be brandished flamboyantly when the opportunity arose. There was even a fair maiden, who was currently fast asleep on the sofa, and an apprentice who was also asleep, worn out by a brief but thorough inspection of the locks on all the doors and windows and the first few pages of his favourite bedtime story.

The last half-hour hadn’t involved scaling any high walls, or actually rescuing anyone, but that was okay. Another time, perhaps, when the fair maiden wasn’t in such immediate need of her beauty sleep.

Isaac stirred against him, snuggling up tight.

‘Let’s get you back to bed, little man.’ Edward whispered the words so as not to disturb the sleeping child, and rose, carrying the boy up to his bed.

And then, before he had the chance to think about any such thing with Charlotte, he gently shook her awake, turning back to his book as soon as she had bidden him a sleepy goodnight.

CHAPTER TEN

IT HAD BEEN one hell of a tough week. The meeting with Edward’s father, when the past had reached out, snatching her back into the nightmare that she thought she’d survived. Being afraid all the time, and trying not to show it to anyone.

One glass of wine with Edward on Friday, after Isaac had gone to bed, and she had fallen asleep on the sofa, waking with a start when she felt his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

Today she woke to silence. A slow, sleepy climb into wakefulness, cocooned in comfortable forgetfulness. Something was missing, and she groped around in her mind for what it might be. No alarm. No... She sat up straight, propelled by panic. No Isaac, bouncing on her bed, telling her to wake up and get on with the day.

Hitting the floor at a run, Charlotte sped into his bedroom. The curtains were drawn back, the room was bathed in sunshine, and the bed was neatly made. Then she heard a noise from downstairs: Isaac’s laughter, threaded through with Edward’s quiet, rich chuckle.

Stupid. There was nothing wrong, no need to be this jumpy. All the same, she crept downstairs, just to check on them.

They were so involved with what they were doing that they didn’t see her. Isaac was sitting on the edge of the sofa, next to Edward, with the coffee table pulled up in front of him so he could reach the keyboard of Edward’s laptop. Edward, leaning back on the sofa, was concentrating hard on the screen.

‘Way to go, partner!’ Edward’s face lit up and Isaac threw his arms up above his head, bouncing up and down on the cushions. Edward leaned forward, hitting a key. ‘Do you want to try the next one?’

‘That’s all my teacher told me to do...’ Isaac turned to him.

‘Well, we don’t need to do exactly what she says.’ Edward shot him a look that mirrored the mischief on Isaac’s face. ‘You don’t have to stop unless you want to. You’re pretty good at this.’

‘Okay...’ Isaac giggled ‘...partner.’

Edward chuckled and pressed another key. It looked as if the two of them were fine without her for a while, and Charlotte could take her time in the shower.

When she got back downstairs, showered, dressed and feeling better than she had for weeks after a good night’s sleep, she smelled coffee. The patio doors were open, and Isaac’s voice drifted in from the garden.

‘Is that a fresh pot of coffee I smell...?’ She followed the aroma into the kitchen and found Edward there.

‘Yep. Want some toast?’

‘You are a wonderful man.’

He looked over his shoulder, shooting her a rakish half-smile. ‘If I’d known that it just took a pot of coffee and some toast...’

‘And a good night’s sleep. Where’s my alarm clock?’

He nodded at the clock, sitting innocently on the kitchen table. ‘I happened to wake up early. I heard Isaac rambling around, and I sent him into your room to get it. I reckoned you could do with a bit of a lie-in.’

‘Oh, so you’ve been enlisting my son in your machinations, have you?’

‘Yep. He seemed to think it was a good idea, too. And I reckoned that if you did wake up, then you’d probably be a little happier to find Isaac creeping into your room.’

A good deal more relaxed, maybe. Happier...? That would depend on what Edward was there for. Charlotte dismissed the thought, and with it her fantasies of waking up to find Edward there.

‘Has he had breakfast?’

‘Yep. I told him that I’d be in trouble with you if we didn’t keep to the straight and narrow, and he took me through the procedure step by step. Cleaned his teeth, had a wash, showed me where his clean clothes were. Do you always let him have chocolate biscuits for breakfast?’

‘No!’ Charlotte supposed it couldn’t hurt just for today.

Edward chuckled. ‘Gotcha. We had toast with peanut butter, and banana smoothies. Then we did some number games on the internet.’

So that’s what they’d been up to. ‘Isaac’s homework?’

‘Yes. He showed me the sheet that his teacher had given him. I found a game on the internet that made it a little bit more fun.’

‘Thanks.’ That feeling of dread she had when Edward did anything either for her or Isaac had almost completely disappeared now. Maybe because Edward so clearly enjoyed playing with Isaac.

‘No trouble.’ He buttered the toast and set it down in front of her, adding a jar of marmalade and one of apricot jam. Then coffee, hot and aromatic, with a dash of milk. Just one cup.

‘I’ve got to go out...’

He was searching for his car keys and Charlotte pointed to the hook under the kitchen cabinet, where they were supposed to be.

‘Right. Thanks. I’ll be back shortly.’

‘Shortly’ could mean practically anything with Edward, and generally did. Charlotte opened her mouth to ask whether he’d be home for lunch, but he was already gone.

He returned an hour later, and appeared in the doorway between the hall and the living room carrying a long, thin parcel. He dumped it on the coffee table and sat down next to Charlotte on the sofa with an air of anticipation.

‘What’s that you’re reading?’ He craned over her shoulder, and Charlotte hugged the library book to her chest.

‘Nothing... What’s that you’ve got there?’

‘Hmm...nothing.’

Another moment of quiet, and Charlotte returned to her book.

‘Looks interesting. I haven’t been there for ages.’

He was reading over her shoulder again, and Charlotte snapped the book shut.

‘It’s the summer holidays soon, and I thought I’d take Isaac out on a few daytrips. This book’s got some really great ideas.’ It seemed that—for the moment anyway—the plan that they should just get on with their lives without disturbing each other too much had gone by the board.

He grinned. ‘The Natural History Museum’s great for kids.’

‘And for adults.’ Charlotte had been looking for places which would interest her and Isaac—something that they could share—as well as a few fun places where he could work off his energy.

‘And the Science Museum’s just down the road, of course. There are some wonderful things there.’

‘Yes.’ He was going to be volunteering to come along any minute now, and the thought of Edward and Isaac together in the Science Museum sounded far too much like hard work. ‘So what’s in the parcel, then?’

‘Ah! Thought you’d never ask.’

‘So did I. Looks as if you’ve worn me down.’ She grinned at him and he was suddenly seized with motion, grasping the parcel and tearing the wrappings from it.

‘What do you think?’

‘It’s a...’ Isaac had run in from the garden and nosed his way in between them. ‘What is it?’

‘Here—see?’ Edward pointed to the picture on the label. ‘It’s a kite.’

It wasn’t just any old kite, but then Charlotte doubted that Edward would be much interested in anything that didn’t have a complex structure of cords and an unlikely shape. He began to unwrap the collection of disassembled struts and sails, fishing out a small booklet.

Isaac watched open-mouthed and confused, looking to his mother for an explanation. ‘Edward has to put all of those pieces together, sweetie, before it’ll fly.’

‘Yeah, shouldn’t take long.’ Edward was already laying the pieces out on the coffee table. ‘Then we can go and fly it, eh, buddy?’

Charlotte left them to it and went to make drinks for them both. When she returned, Edward had already snapped into the fearsome concentration with which he approached almost any task, leaving Isaac shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. Charlotte placed his coffee on the table and he nodded absently.

‘Thanks... Don’t touch those, Isaac, I’ve put them all out in order.’

Isaac’s hand shot away from the metal strut as if it had suddenly become red hot, and he hid it behind his back.

‘Come here, sweetie.’ Charlotte motioned her son towards her and put her arms around him. ‘We’ll just watch, shall we?’

Isaac nodded, obviously wishing that he could be a part of the construction project, craning to see what was happening. Edward seemed almost oblivious to the two of them, quickly selecting the pieces he wanted and deftly fitting them together.

They watched in silence. ‘Look, sweetie, it’s almost ready...’ The structure was recognisable as a kite now, and Edward was attaching twine to the steering loops at each side.

Isaac nodded. But as Edward had worked she’d felt the excitement ebb out of her son’s body, and now he was leaning against her legs with an air of boredom, his eyes on the television.

‘Is it time for my programme, Mum?’

‘Which programme, Isaac?’

‘You know. Eddie and the Magic Fish.’

‘Don’t you want to wait until the kite’s finished?’

‘I want to see my programme.’

She saw the hurt in Edward’s eyes. ‘Okay. Come upstairs. You can see it there.’

There was a television in the guest bedroom, and perhaps it was best to let Isaac watch TV while Edward finished the kite. When they got to the point of flying it—and she was sure that Edward wouldn’t be able to wait to try out the magnificent creation—Isaac’s interest would be rekindled and everyone would be happy.

She left Isaac sprawled on her bed, clutching Stinky, captivated for the moment by the adventures of the Magic Fish. When she went back downstairs, the sitting room was empty. Charlotte could see Edward in the garden, ranging restlessly along the far end of the lawn, kicking at the inconsistencies in the smooth line between grass and flowerbeds.

Perhaps he needed to be left alone for a while, with his thoughts. He’d work it out; the mathematics weren’t all that difficult. Isaac was five, and there were times when Edward’s focussed ardour for the task in hand simply left him behind.

But there were elements to this equation that intellect, even one as all-consuming as Edward’s, couldn’t grasp. Twisting her mouth, and in defiance of all that was logical, Charlotte slipped through the open French windows and walked across the grass towards him.

He was lost in his thoughts, seeming not to notice her. ‘Given up, then?’ She might as well start with a challenge, if that was the way she meant to go on.

‘The kite’s finished.’

‘Yes, I saw that.’

He turned to her, giving her a speculative look, as if he was trying to weigh the situation up. ‘He didn’t like the kite. That’s okay. Isaac’s free to have his own likes and dislikes...’

‘Edward, did you ever go to school?’

He blinked at her, struggling to make the connection. ‘As it happens, no. By the time I was five I’d already got a handle on calculus and my parents had me tutored at home.’

There was a note of sadness in his voice.

‘That must have been lonely.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t have anything to compare it with.’

‘When everything’s fine, you don’t need anything to compare it with.’

There was something dull in his eyes as he focussed on her. ‘You’re saying I don’t play well with others.’ One hand clenched into a fist. ‘That’s not exactly an original thought.’

He just wasn’t listening to her. It was as if it had been drilled into Edward that being clever meant that you didn’t have a heart. ‘Maybe it’s just a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you believe it’s true, then ultimately it is.’

He glared at her. ‘And you have a better idea?’

He turned, as if the conversation was now at an end. He was used to having the last word. Used to being right.

‘Don’t be so arrogant...’ Even before he turned back she knew that she’d missed the mark by about a mile. Edward might look and sound arrogant, but somewhere beneath that there was a lonely child.

‘I am what I am, Charlotte. If you want to think that’s arrogant, then go right ahead.’

All of his defences were up now. The aloof, unsmiling man, whom no one seemed to be able to get close to, was turning away from her again.

She did the unthinkable. Marched straight up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face her. ‘You don’t fool me, Edward. I’ve seen you with Isaac. I saw you with Mercy the other day.’

Something behind his eyes ignited. Dark blue ice turning to sparkling heat. There was more than enough emotion here. It was just a matter of whether she could deal with it. Whether Edward could deal with it, without ducking back into the comfort of his books.

‘Mercy opened up to you, not me.’

‘Edward! Sometimes I want to shake some sense into you...!’

The provocative twitch of his lips told her that she could go right ahead, if that was her inclination, and she resisted the urge.

‘What on earth happened to you when you were a child?’

‘You think I was a poor little bright boy, with his nose in a book and no friends? It wasn’t like that.’ He pursed his lips. ‘Not quite like that, anyway.’

‘What was it like, then?’

‘I was different. By the time I was ten I could keep up with a university undergraduate on an intellectual level. On a social level, I wasn’t quite ready for women, all-night parties and beer-drinking contests. It was difficult to find my own space.’

‘You felt out of step, you mean? Your emotions and theirs?’

He looked at her gravely. Then suddenly he smiled. ‘Most people assume I don’t have any emotions.’

His look taunted her. Dared her to tell him different.

‘That’s not true, though, is it?’ She dared him back.

‘I don’t think so.’

The dare turned dangerous all of a sudden. He was waiting for her to kiss him. Charlotte baulked at that one.

‘Look, Edward, I know that you’re used to being better and faster at everything than everyone else, and that it’s a lot easier to do things by yourself. But if you want Isaac to be interested in what you’re doing then you have to slow down a bit and do things at his pace.’

He hesitated. ‘I’m...not very good at that. As you can see.’

‘No one’s born good at things like that—you have to learn. You’re supposed to be a genius. Can’t you learn? Or don’t you want to learn?’

‘I want to.’ The admission was a little stiff, and left Edward nonplussed for a moment. ‘Why don’t you go and tell Isaac...?’

She glared at him and he grinned.

‘Why don’t I go and tell him myself?’

‘Good idea.’

‘Right.’ He clapped his hands together, as if he was about to embark on one of the most complex experiments of his life. ‘Do you think he’d like his own kite? One that’s more his size, perhaps?’

Charlotte almost told him no, that Isaac didn’t need a kite. But she knew he’d want one, and Edward needed this.

‘I think he’d love that. Go and ask him.’

* * *

Edward didn’t deal in half-measures. The shop he took them to sold nothing but kites, and on a bright late summer’s morning, was full of people. He led Isaac straight to a selection of different coloured children’s kites, and the two of them became immediately absorbed in sorting through them. Charlotte decided to leave them to it.

‘I’m just going to pop to the chemist, to buy some soap. I won’t be long. Stay here with Edward, won’t you, Isaac?’ She nudged his shoulder with her hand.

Isaac ignored her in favour of the kites, and Edward looked up at her. He seemed to know how hard it always was for her to leave Isaac, even for a few minutes, and he took hold of the boy’s hand as a gesture of intent.

‘I won’t let him out of my sight. Go and do your shopping.’

She decided to take her time, to give Edward and Isaac a chance to buy the kite by themselves. There were some nice apples on display outside the greengrocer’s and she stopped to buy three, to go with the packed lunch in the boot of the car.

In the chemist’s she ran her finger along the lines of jars and bottles which were beyond her purchasing power, now.

Her old soap, the one she’d used to buy before she’d begun to make all her decisions on the basis of price, was there. Something from her old life, when she hadn’t needed to question every word, every action, every penny that she spent. She so wanted that back.

Charlotte picked it up, hesitated, put it back on the shelf, then picked it up again.

It wouldn’t matter if she had something that she wanted for once. The soap smelled nice and felt creamy on her skin, and it wasn’t so very much more expensive than the more economical brands. As luxuries went, this wasn’t so very ostentatious.

‘Come on, Mum...’ Isaac broke into the debate, tugging at her arm.

She looked round to see Edward, with a firm hold on Isaac’s other hand to prevent any possible escape.

‘Okay, just a minute. Did you get your kite?’ It was clear that he had, Edward was holding a large plastic bag.

‘Yes, do you want to see?’

‘Mmm. Yes, please.’

Isaac grinned up at Edward, who delivered the bag into his grasp. Inside was a small blue kite with a blue and silver tail.

‘Oh, that’s so pretty!’ She drew the kite out to examine its tail. ‘Those sparkly bits are going to shine in the sun when you fly it.’

Isaac nodded, carefully showing her everything. There was a ball of twine, mounted on a reel, to protect Isaac’s hands from any friction. ‘You tie it on there—see?’ Isaac indicated the reinforced eyelets on the kite. ‘With a special knot.’

Charlotte nodded, impressed. ‘A special knot, eh?’

‘Yes. Edward’s going to show me how,’ Isaac responded proudly.

Her little boy was growing up. It was almost a surprise to find that she didn’t mind that Isaac wanted Edward to help him tie the knots on his precious kite, when it felt only a blink of time since her son had looked to her for everything.

‘That’s great. Make sure you watch what he does carefully.’

‘Can we go, Mum?’ Isaac was impatient again, jigging up and down on the spot.

‘Yes, let me get my soap and we’ll be off.’ Charlotte looked up to see Edward, in a world of his own, working his way along the shelf and inspecting the ingredients lists printed on all the soap wrappers. ‘Edward?’

He jolted back into the here and now. ‘Ah. Yes.’ He focussed on the soap in her hand and took a matching bar from the shelf. ‘That one smells nice.’

She didn’t really need it. The thought that Edward liked the smell of it made her want it, though. ‘They’re all much the same. I’ll get this one.’ She put the bar back onto the shelf and reached for the cheaper brand.

‘I imagine they’re all pretty easy to make...’ He still had one foot in that world of possibilities that seemed to know no bounds. He inspected the bar in his hand. ‘Pretty standard ingredients.’

‘You might be able to make it. I’d probably blow the kitchen up. It’s just soap, Edward.’ Nothing was just anything to Edward. Everything fascinated him, from pizza-making to nuclear physics. When she was with him the world seemed bigger, far more interesting.

‘Hmm. You like this one, though?’ He still had the bar that he’d taken from the shelf in his hand.

‘This will do. It’s cheaper.’

Before she could reach into her bag for her purse Edward had given her preferred choice to Isaac, along with a note from his pocket. ‘You want to get it for your mum?’

She met his gaze. This wasn’t anything to do with kites, or soap. It was about whether she had the right to a treat, however small. Whether Edward had the right to give it to her, to claim a place in their little family.

‘Okay. Thank you.’

He nodded, grinning.

‘At last!’ Isaac conferred his displeasure on both of them and ran to the counter.

Charlotte watched as the woman at the cash desk smiled down at Isaac, took his money and put the soap into a bag, counting his change into his hand.

‘Hey! Hey, give Edward his change back.’ Isaac had pocketed the coins.

‘That’s okay.’ Edward winked at her. ‘He might be needing it later for ice-cream.’

Isaac looked from Charlotte to Edward, then back again, waiting to obtain a final decision. ‘All right, then. Here—let me zip your pocket up, so you don’t lose it.’

She bent and fastened Isaac’s pocket, then gave way to the pressure from both Edward and Isaac and hurried with them to the car. The afternoon was bright and blustery, just right for kite-flying, and the three of them seemed in complete accord. No one wanted to miss a moment of it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEY DROVE FOR an hour, right out of London, making a beeline for high ground. The last five hundred yards had to be walked—or rather climbed—until finally they reached the exact location that Edward wanted.

‘It’s windy enough here.’ The words were almost dragged away on the breeze as soon as they left her mouth.

‘Yes. I think this will do.’ Edward looked around with an air of satisfaction. ‘Which kite shall we try first?’

‘The big one!’ Isaac was jumping up and down with excitement. ‘I want to see the big one...’

‘Okay.’ Edward grinned, laying the large kite onto the ground, clipping together the last pieces of the framework so that it was ready to fly. ‘You see, I think that the wind will catch it here...’ he indicated the breadth of the kite ‘...and funnel through this way...’ A sweep of the hand to show the anticipated wind direction. ‘That should give it extra lift, and the weight of the tail makes it steadier.’ He grinned. ‘That’s the theory, anyway.’

‘Will it work?’ Isaac stamped his foot impatiently.

‘That’s what we’re here to find out. It’s all very well to have a theory, but you always have to test it out... Here, you hang on there.’

Edward gave the kite to Isaac and winked at Charlotte, walking away from them as he unravelled the twin reels of lightweight cord.

He paced out the distance and called back to Isaac, ‘Okay, hold it up...’

Charlotte kept a discreet hold on the top of the kite, in case Isaac decided to let go of it before he was supposed to.

‘Now, on my count... One...two...three...let her go!’

The kite rose in a straight line, up into the clear blue sky. Isaac shouted at the top of his voice in excitement, and suddenly the only thing to do was to shout with him.

‘Nooooo!’ The kite dipped erratically and Isaac screamed in horror.

Edward fought for control for long moments and then the kite soared upwards again. Charlotte cheered, and Isaac followed suit, running towards Edward.

‘That didn’t quite work...’ Edward was grinning at her. ‘Perhaps I’ll just concentrate on keeping it up there at this stage.’

‘I want to hold it... Pleeeease...’ Isaac was pulling at Charlotte’s windcheater in excitement.

‘I don’t think so, sweetie. It’s very hard to control. We don’t want you flying away with the kite.’

‘Owww.’ Isaac seemed to think that flying away was an added bonus.

‘What about yours?’ Edward reeled his kite in and turned his attention to Isaac’s blue and silver kite.

Isaac’s face was a picture. Happiness that he was a part of their great enterprise and not just relegated to watching. Pride when the kite soared up into the sky, with Edward kneeling at his side, showing him how to control it.

‘Thank you.’ Charlotte caught at his sleeve as he stepped back, letting Isaac go solo. ‘Thank you so much.’

Edward nodded in satisfaction. ‘Every boy needs a kite. I’m just going to make a few adjustments to mine and perhaps you’ll help me launch it again.’

A few knots, a little staring into the middle distance as Edward estimated airflow and wind speed, and the kite was up in the air again, this time flying more steadily. Charlotte ran back to Edward’s side and he looped his arms over her head.

‘Here, you try. Take hold of the reels.’

She pressed her hands over his, trying to stop her fingers from trembling. The wind around them buffeted her, but she was safe in his arms, her back against his strong body, his scent surrounding her and then blown away by the wind.

‘That’s right.’

His lips were almost touching her ear.

‘Pull it a bit to the right.’ He guided her arm and the kite dipped to the right, shooting back upwards as the breeze caught it again. ‘Ooops. Hang on tight.’

Suddenly he had left her, and was loping across to Isaac, who was struggling to keep his kite in the air.

Charlotte concentrated hard on controlling her own little bit of airspace while Edward restored Isaac’s kite safely back above their heads. He made sure that Isaac was happily in control again and then he was back.

‘What do you think?’ He was surveying the flight path of the kite.

‘It’s pulling really hard...’ Her arms were already beginning to ache.

Edward chuckled, looping his arms around her again. ‘Let me give you a hand with it.’

He wasn’t helping at all. All that happened was that she melted into his arms, turning to jelly and losing whatever strength she had left. He was controlling not only the kite but her as well. She let go of the kite strings and he strengthened his grip, catching them just in time. Turning in his arms, she faced him.

His rakish half-smile told her that this was just what he wanted. ‘Giving up already?’

‘You’re so much better at it than I am.’

‘Think so? You dip beautifully.’ He leaned towards her.

She couldn’t do this. Not with Isaac just yards away—even if he was paying them no attention.

She ducked out of the circle of his arms, feeling the wind suddenly chill her. ‘Are you hungry?’

Edward chuckled. ‘Ravenous.’

She fixed him with a glare. Even the thought of Peter’s quiet charm, and the way that had worked out, wasn’t enough to calm the insistent thunder in her veins. Peter was like a faded shadow of a man next to Edward. Edward was different. Different from pretty much everyone she’d ever met.

‘Would you like an apple?’ She gritted her teeth and doggedly refused to take any notice of the alternative interpretation of hungry that the curve of his eyebrow suggested.

‘In a minute. I’ve got my hands full at the moment.’ His gaze left her, flipping over towards Isaac. ‘Steady on, there, chief...’

Charlotte ran to her son, helping him to pull on the string so that the kite fluttered upwards again. ‘Enjoying yourself, sweetie?’ She whispered the words tremulously in his ear.

‘Yes, Mum.’ Isaac’s attention was on the kite, its tail shimmering and sparkling in the sunshine. He submitted to a hug for a moment and then wriggled free.

‘Good. I’m glad.’

She could have cried. The scared little boy who had clung to her when the debt collectors knocked on the door was gone. In his place a child who was enjoying himself so much that he had no time for his mother’s cuddles.

‘All right over there?’ Edward nodded over to Isaac.

‘Just fine. He loves this.’

‘Yeah. Me, too.’

* * *

Edward sat at the piano, his fingers wandering across the keys, playing a soft melody of his own composition. He’d had a great time. The kite had flown better than he’d expected once he’d made a few adjustments to the lines which had altered its angle of flight slightly. Isaac had liked his kite, too, and had insisted on taking it to bed with him. And Charlotte...

He’d planned to give her a great day—help her forget about the troubles of the past week. And she’d shone in the sunshine like a beautiful jewel, full of life and light. But however hard he tried to please her he seemed to end up only pleasing himself, as the echoes of her joie de vivre washed over him.

Charlotte. The chords seemed to sing out her name. A sudden slip into a minor key lent an element of yearning to the music that hadn’t been there before.

‘Why so sad?’

He hadn’t noticed her behind him, standing in the doorway which led from the kitchen. He stopped playing abruptly, aware that the music had given away much more than he had ever intended. ‘It’s a slow piece of music.’

A slight frown of disbelief. It seemed that he could lie to the rest of the world, but Charlotte caught him out every time.

‘I recognise it. You’ve played it before.’

When he’d played it before it had been just a dalliance with the keys. Now it was a full-blown, passionate love affair, full of all the conflicting emotions in his heart. ‘It’s a work in progress. It changes every time.’

She nodded. Walked over to him. ‘Will you play it again?’

‘No.’ She couldn’t lure him in like that. If the music insisted on betraying him, then he’d stick to other people’s compositions. ‘I mean...I need to think about it a bit more.’

She nodded and he beckoned her over. This time she sat down next to him on the piano stool as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘Would you like something else?’

‘If you want.’ She smiled. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘Your turn to choose.’

She grinned. ‘What was it you were playing the other night?’ She hummed a few chords, her voice clear and tuneful.

‘You’ve got a good ear. Most people don’t get that bit right.’ He reproduced the chords she’d sung and she smiled, singing along with the music.

He’d played this song thousands of times before. Kathy had liked this one, too, but it had never felt like this. Never as if he was caressing someone with the music. Never so head-swimmingly erotic.

He hadn’t thought about Kathy in years. If asked, he would have said that he’d forgotten her, but it seemed that she’d just lain dormant in his memory, waiting to emerge and reprimand him for having ignored the lesson she’d taught him.

‘What’s the matter?’

Charlotte was closer now, and Edward realised that he’d stopped playing.

He shrugged. ‘This song reminds me of...someone I used to know.’

‘Should I be sorry?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. It was a long time ago. When I was at university.’

‘Which time?’

‘The second. Kathy was a medical student.’

She nodded. ‘First love?’

He shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’

It had been more like a first friendship, really. Kathy had been quiet, studious, so like him that everyone had reckoned they were made for each other and it was just a matter of time before they got married.

When she’d left him, citing a lack of emotional commitment on Edward’s part as her reason, it had been proof positive to all their friends that Edward was the cold fish they’d always marked him down as being.

She nodded. ‘My first love was Isaac’s father. That didn’t work out too well.’

‘But you loved him once...’ The words almost choked Edward.

‘You know they say that love is blind?’ She looked up at him and he nodded. ‘Well, I don’t think so. I think that real love sees everything.’

‘Do you think you can really ever see everything about someone?’

‘I don’t know. In the absence of any substantive evidence either way, I’ll have to say that it’s just a theory. But they say that true love lasts, and I don’t love him now.’ Her mouth twisted, as if the joke was really on her.

Something inside him raged in bitter triumph. The impulse to tear Charlotte’s ex limb from limb de-escalated to wanting to give him a more minor, if acutely painful, set of injuries. If she didn’t care about him any more then Edward could live with that.

‘You can’t regret all of it. Isaac...’

‘Isaac’s the best thing that ever happened to me.’ She laid a finger on his shoulder, as if alerting him to something. ‘Good things do come from bad.’

‘If you make them.’

Charlotte had that ability. As for himself... Nothing good or bad had come from his time with Kathy. Just a lingering doubt about whether he really could ever commit to anyone. After everything that had happened today that doubt suddenly seemed to matter a great deal.

She was looking steadily at him. That silent interrogation which he found so difficult to withstand. Why didn’t she just ask?

‘How long were you and Kathy together?’

‘Three years.’

She nodded. Seemed to be about to ask more, and then didn’t. That was as well, really. The nagging feeling of failure whenever Kathy’s name was mentioned made him uncomfortable.

‘So we’re two of a kind, then.’ She gave a little sigh.

‘What makes you say that?’ Charlotte was warm, bubbly—everyone knew without even thinking about it that there was nothing she didn’t know about emotional commitment.

‘Both still waiting for the right one to come along.’

It felt as if the right one was sitting next to him. But that must be another mistake, because Charlotte clearly didn’t think so.

‘No. I’m not waiting.’ Edward told himself, with less conviction than normal, that he had everything he needed. His work, his books. The textured, multicoloured, harmonic flow of the world around him, perfect in all its intricacies.

‘Better watch out, then.’

He was aware that her gaze was on him.

‘Why?’

‘That’s when things sneak up on you from behind. When you least expect them.’

He turned to tell her that she was wrong—one smooth movement which began with a shake of his head, and ended with her lips. She gave a little start of surprise and then... Then she kissed him back.

Soft...slow.

Edward was taking it gently, giving her every opportunity to draw back from him, but that was the very last thing that Charlotte wanted to do. When he brushed his fingers against her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw, she felt her breath quicken.

He was all for the moment. Each touch was special and not to be rushed. Every breath was one they wouldn’t take again, unique and remarkable. His fingertips found hers, touching, sensing, and then wrapping around her hand, drawing it upwards. Holding her gaze, he brushed his lips against the back of her fingers.

There was more. Simmering beneath the surface. Waiting. He took the pace up a notch, just one, his hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss. This time there was an edge to it, a promise of so much more if she could only stand this long, slow preamble.

He didn’t call out her name. Made no profession of desire, or love, or even friendship. He didn’t need to. It was all there in his kiss, the heat banking and flaring until she felt herself begin to tremble.

They broke apart. Charlotte’s heart was thudding in her chest, her lungs pulling in air.

‘Does that make any difference?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Of course it made a difference. Edward’s kiss made all the difference in the world. Fear clutched at her.

‘I mean does that make you or me into different people? Change any of our views on life?’

She wished it did, but all of the old doubts were still there, the dread that she might fall back into disaster again. ‘No.’

‘Then I guess we’ll say that there’s someone out there for you, and someone for me. Leave it at that.’

So this was the way he wanted to play it. Just a kiss between friends. Like hell it was. That had been the first step on a path which led straight to two naked bodies and mind-blowing sex. They needed no words to know that.

He was right, though. Sex with Edward, if she ever managed to survive the intensity of the foreplay, would be like jumping from the frying pan into a searing fire. She couldn’t afford to be fooled again by quiet charm and hidden depths. She wanted—needed—everything to be in plain sight.

‘Yes. That would probably be sensible.’ It seemed almost wrong to stand up now. Like the biggest lie of all to deny what had just happened. But she did it. ‘I’m going to...’

Saying that she was going to bed would sound like a come-on. And his gaze was still so very enticing. Charlotte was under no illusions about whether she would be able to say no to him if he reached out for her now.

His slow smile was laced with all of the intentions that neither of them seemed able to follow through on. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Thank you.’

What was that for? Starting things? Stopping things?

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, drawing back again. ‘Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.’

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