Maggie licked her lips and Hugo turned away abruptly.

It was bad enough that she was only half dressed. And the sight of a small pink tongue wetting expectant lips was way too much to handle. How long would it take for lust to burn itself out anyway? Days? Weeks? Months? Hugo slumped into a chair at the end of the table with a sigh he had no hope of suppressing.

“You sound tired.” Maggie placed a bowl of porridge in front of Hugo and sat down to one side of him.

“I’m fine,” Hugo growled. There were six chairs at this table. Why did Maggie have to sit within touching distance?

“Have some cream.” Maggie’s finger collected a blob of whipped cream as she passed him the bowl. She popped her finger in her mouth and sucked it clean with obvious relish.

Hugo closed his eyes in a very deliberate blink. Distraction was needed here. And it was urgent.

Dear Reader,

Memories associated with childhood summer holidays are often especially happy ones and the setting for this story in Queenstown, New Zealand, is where I used to go camping with my family. Central Otago is one of my favourite parts of New Zealand. Maggie, the heroine in A Courageous Doctor, has to be one of my favorites also. I loved her personality, which is almost as outrageous as her hair, and I admire her philosophy that life’s too short not to catch every possible moment of happiness, no matter how small or fleeting. The perfect match for Maggie was a challenge I particularly enjoyed meeting. I’d love to hear whether you think I got it right.

Happy reading,

Alison

A Courageous Doctor
Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

CONTENTS

Cover

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘YOU’RE needed, Hugh. A and E.’

‘On my way.’ Dr Hugo Patterson straightened, looping his stethoscope around his neck and smiling at the elderly woman in the bed. ‘You’ve certainly picked up a bug, I’m afraid, Nancy. You’re rattling away like an old train.’ He patted the frail hand lying on the pale green coverlet. ‘We’re going to keep you on oxygen and start some antibiotics.’ He looked up at the nurse standing nearby. ‘Is the call urgent, Megan, or do I have time to pop in an IV line?’

‘Sounded urgent.’ Megan bit her lip. ‘There was some shouting going on in the background and Lizzie sounded stressed.’

The look they exchanged acknowledged the unlikelihood of anything minor making Lakeview Hospital’s nurse manager sound stressed. Hugo nodded as he reached for the chart to scribble instructions for the antibiotics he hoped would deal with his ninety-six-year-old patient’s pneumonia.

‘I’ll be back to see you just as soon as I can, Nancy. You behave yourself in the meantime.’

‘Thanks…love.’ The effort of speaking at all was obvious but the smile she gave Hugo was as lovely as always. ‘Go…they need you.’

‘Are you happy to get the line in and start the medication, Megan?’

‘I’ll have a go.’ Megan had to lengthen her stride to keep up with the doctor. ‘Her veins are horribly fragile, though.’

‘I’ll get back as quickly as I can. Have you heard how Nicola is getting on?’

‘Last I heard she was six centimetres dilated and getting tired. I think Joan’s a bit concerned about her.’

Hugo was moving faster now. ‘I’ll drop into Maternity on my way back here.’

It wasn’t far to the somewhat ambitiously named A and E department of the small rural hospital. Hugo strode along the corridor without more than a passing glance through the long windows opening onto a wide verandah. Some of Nancy’s fellow long-stay geriatric patients were ensconced in comfortable armchairs, enjoying the last fleeting warmth of the late winter’s afternoon sunshine. This winter would undoubtedly be Nancy’s last but Hugo was determined to pull her through this new bout of pneumonia so that she could enjoy for just a little longer the spectacular snow-covered peaks of the mountainous region she loved so much.

The double doors at the end of the wide corridor flapped in response to Hugo’s firm push. The trauma room he was now in was curiously empty. This was their assessment and resuscitation area for serious injuries or illness, so where was the urgent case he had been summoned for? Hugo kept moving, through to the four-bed treatment room which led to the small reception and waiting area. He could hear Lizzie now, speaking with all the sternness and authority she had gained over her many years’ nursing experience.

‘You’ll have to shift it. You’re parked in the ambulance bay and there’s an ambulance due to arrive any minute.’

‘I’m not shifting. This is supposed to be a hospital, isn’t it? Where’s a bloody doctor when you need one?’

‘Right here.’ Hugo slowed his pace as he entered the reception area. His gaze took in Lizzie’s arms, folded over her ample bosom, a man in belligerent stance with beefy hands gripping his hips, the open-mouthed fascination with which Anne, the receptionist, was watching the scene and finally the small tour bus parked in front of the ambulance loading platform.

‘I’m Dr Patterson,’ he added calmly. ‘What seems to be the problem?’

The telephone began ringing just as both Lizzie and the man spoke at precisely the same moment.

‘They’re sick—the whole bloody lot of them,’ the man announced impatiently.

‘It looks like mild food poisoning to me,’ Lizzie said. ‘There’s eleven of them.’

Anne’s voice cut into the pause as Hugo held up a hand to request one speaker at a time.

‘I’ve got Mr Payne on the phone, Hugh. He sounds very upset.’

‘Lizzie?’ Hugo tilted his head as he moved towards the desk, inviting the senior nurse to follow. ‘Just give me a second with Mr Payne and then you can fill me in.’ He took the phone from Anne. ‘Hugh Patterson.’ He listened for a few seconds. ‘Try and calm down, Tom. How long has she been missing? Has she been unwell in any way today?’ He listened again for a moment. ‘If you don’t find her in the next few minutes, call the police in to help. We can send an ambulance out as well if you need it.’

Lizzie was shaking her head as Hugo hung up. ‘The ambulance won’t be available for at least ten minutes. It’s on its way back from Coronet Peak with a ski trauma. Erin Willoughby’s broken her arm, snowboarding.’

‘Oh, no!’ It wasn’t the first time Hugo had had cause to regret working in such a popular location for adventure sports of all kinds. It was easy to attract staff, especially young nurses who had leisure pursuits such as skiing, but it led to a high staff turnover and complications such as staff shortages due to injuries like this. ‘We’re short-staffed as it is.’

‘I know,’ Lizzie agreed grimly. ‘And we’re heading into the winter peak season.’ She glanced over her shoulder, frowning. ‘Where’s that bus driver gone?’

Hugo could see where. Young Japanese tourists were climbing off the bus, some clutching their stomachs and some holding suspiciously full-looking paper bags. They were all heading for the pedestrian entranceway to the hospital.

Lizzie followed his gaze and sighed heavily. ‘I’ve told him that we can’t admit them all. I’ve talked to Jenny, who’s the GP on call for their hotel, and she’s happy to keep an eye on them. They’ll be fine if they go to bed and keep their fluid intake up.’

‘Have you checked them out?’

Lizzie gave Hugo a look that suggested he should know better than to ask such a question. ‘Only half of them are vomiting so far and the ones that have are feeling better already. None of them are showing any signs of dehydration.’

‘They’re all very young.’ Hugo smiled automatically at the first couple entering the reception area but received no response. One after another the tourists filed in, followed by the driver.

‘There you go,’ he told them with satisfaction. ‘They just need something to stop them throwing up and we’ll get out of your way.’

‘Stopping the vomiting will only keep them sick longer,’ Lizzie responded coolly. ‘Their bodies are just trying to eliminate the toxin.’

The girl who approached them was looking very pale. ‘Where is toilet, please?’

‘Through there.’ Lizzie pointed to the door at one side of the desk and the girl turned in the direction indicated. The queue for the single cubicle was instantly a problem.

‘Anne, could you hand out some vomit containers, please? You might need to show some people through to a ward if they need a toilet as well. We’re not going to cope with just this one.’ Hugo turned to the bus driver. ‘Are you the only one who isn’t unwell?’

‘Yep. That’s because I didn’t eat the picnic. I don’t go for weird things like seaweed. I went to the pub and got a pie instead.’

‘They stopped at Alexandra,’ Lizzie explained. ‘To eat the fish sushi they collected in Dunedin this morning. Everyone else ate the sushi and started getting sick within two hours. Five couples and the tour guide.’

‘It’s the “Western Wedding Experience”,’ the driver added helpfully. ‘They have the white wedding in the stone church in Christchurch with full video recording and then they get the four-day adventure honeymoon. Ice-skating in Alex, gold mining stuff in Arrowtown—’

Anne was waving at Hugo. ‘Mr Payne’s on the phone again. They’ve found Mrs Payne but she’s refusing to go home and she hit him in the face. He can’t stop his nose bleeding.’

‘Sounds like her Alzheimer’s is getting worse,’ Lizzie commented.

‘It’s too much for Tom to manage, no matter how much he wants to,’ Hugo sighed. ‘We’ll have to get her in for assessment and look at a rest-home placement.’

A young man near the door groaned loudly and dipped his face towards the white plastic bucket he held. Hugo felt like groaning himself but the bus driver was cheerfully ignoring any interruptions.

‘There’s two days in Queenstown to do the four-wheel-drive Skippers Canyon run with bungy-jumping, white-water jet-boat ride, skiing and so on. We’re due for a dinner cruise on the lake tonight and…’

Hugo sucked in a deep breath. ‘We’ll send the ambulance out to check on the Paynes as soon as it arrives. Put Erin in the trauma room and keep our other visitors in Reception or the treatment room if any of them look like falling over.’ His smile was apologetic. ‘I’ll have to leave you to it for the moment. We’ve got a delivery imminent that may need assistance and I’ve to check that Nancy’s antibiotics are under way. She’s got another dose of pneumonia.’

‘Oh, no.’ Lizzie’s expression confirmed Nancy’s status as one of the small hospital’s favourite residents. She nodded. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll hold the fort here.’

‘I’ve already called Steve in to do the X-ray for Erin,’ Anne told Hugo.

‘Good girl.’ For a recent school-leaver, Anne was proving very capable. She dimpled at Hugo’s praise.

‘I can help Lizzie look after this lot till you get back,’ she added. ‘Do you want me to call any of the other GPs in?’

‘We’ll see how we get on in the next half-hour or so,’ Hugo decided. ‘If things get any more chaotic than this, I’ll definitely need some help.’ He turned back to the driver who was, remarkably, still continuing his monologue.

‘Then it’s off to Te Anau, and the Milford Sound and dolphin bit, before heading back to Christchurch and the plane back to Japan.’

‘Shift your bus,’ Hugo instructed curtly. ‘You’ll find a parking area outside Outpatients to the right of the ambulance bay.’

The maternity suite beckoned like an oasis of calm in a day that had deteriorated at an alarming rate. The midwife, Joan Pringle, was outside the door of the delivery room when Hugo arrived. Her white uniform looked as crisp and fresh as it had first thing this morning and her long blonde hair was still neatly coiled at the back of her head, with no errant tendrils to spoil the young woman’s aura of competence. Joan’s even features were as pleasing as the rest of her appearance, and her pale blue eyes never failed to be a little surprising. At present, however, the midwife’s smile was strictly professional.

‘Good timing, Hugh. I think the pethidine is wearing off. The entonox doesn’t seem to be providing enough additional relief any more.’

‘How’s it looking?’

‘Seven centimetres last time I checked, maybe eight. And that was twenty minutes ago so we shouldn’t be far off transition. She’s getting very tired, though. I think she might need some help. I’ve got the ventouse and forceps kits ready but I won’t call you until I know for sure.’

‘I’m glad you’re in charge here, Joan. It’s going mad everywhere else at the moment. Roll on Friday.’

‘I’m looking forward to it as well.’ Joan’s smile was less professional this time and it took Hugo a second to realise she was referring to their customary Friday night date and not the end of his week on full-time hospital cover that he had been referring to. He returned the smile, feeling a trifle guilty that the date hadn’t been a priority.

Nicola Cross, doing her best to deliver her second child, was delighted to see Hugo.

‘I’m so glad you’re still on duty, Dr Patterson.’

‘I would have come in for this anyway, Nicky. And I’m never far away.’ His smile was a little wry as he noted the healthy rate of beeping from the foetal heart-rate monitor. ‘Sometimes I think I should have bought a house a bit further on around the lake.’

‘You got part of the old Spencer farm, didn’t you?’ Nicola seemed eager to distract herself from the prospect of another contraction.

‘Yes. I was lucky enough to get a stretch of lakeside with the old shearers’ quarters and the woolshed.’

‘Is it true that some hotel chain offered Mrs Spencer millions for it?’ Nicola’s husband, Ben, was sitting beside the bed.

‘She certainly could have done a lot better than selling it to me, but she knew how much I loved the place.’ Hugo smiled fondly. ‘I inherited her dogs last year. Maybe she wanted them to live out their lives on a patch of their own land.’

‘Hugh’s converted the shearers’ quarters,’ Joan added. ‘It’s a beautiful little house now.’ She turned away to wash her hands and Hugo couldn’t help wondering if it had been the mention of the dogs that had prompted such laudable thoroughness in her technique. Despite some valiant efforts, Joan had never been able to hide her dislike of any domestic pet’s less hygienic attributes.

Nicola wasn’t listening any more. She had put the entonox mask to her face and was sucking in long breaths of the pain-relieving mix of oxygen and nitrous oxide.

Hugo waited until the contraction was over to examine Nicola. ‘You’re almost fully dilated,’ he told her. ‘So it shouldn’t be too much longer. It means I can’t give you any more pethidine, though, because it might affect the baby’s breathing.’

‘I’ll cope,’ Nicola said wearily. ‘As long as I know it’s going to be over soon.’ She groaned and pulled the mask to her face. ‘Here we go again.’

‘I thought it would be easier the second time around.’ Ben had risen to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders for support. Nicola wrenched the mask clear.

‘It was no picnic the first time, mate.’

Her choice of words was enough to prompt Hugo to move on. He would have to race up to the ward to check Nancy and then get back to see how Lizzie and Anne were coping with the aftermath of the sushi picnic.

Nicola’s mother was outside the delivery room. She appeared to be having difficulty retaining her hold on a two-year-old boy’s hand.

‘We’ve been around the car park three times,’ the older woman sighed. ‘There aren’t any more aeroplanes taking off over the road and Henry’s bored.’

‘Wanna go in the bus,’ Henry informed Hugo.

‘No.’ Hugo shook his head firmly. ‘It’s a nasty, smelly bus. You wouldn’t want a ride in that.’ He smiled at Henry’s grandmother, ignoring her faintly astonished expression. ‘It shouldn’t be too much longer before Henry’s brother or sister turns up. I’ll be back soon.’

‘Soon’ was fortunately an elastic expression. Megan hadn’t managed to get an IV line into Nancy so Hugo spent nearly fifteen minutes in the ward, coaxing an ancient vein to accept a cannula large enough to carry fluids and the hopefully life-preserving medication. Back in A and E, the break in Erin Willoughby’s forearm had been X-rayed by Steve, the technician.

‘Nice clean break,’ Hugo pronounced. ‘We can reduce and set that, no problem, so we won’t have to ship you off to the big smoke.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘How could you do this to us, Erin? You know how short-staffed we are.’

‘Sorry, Hugh.’ Erin’s wide smile removed some of the sincerity from her repentance. ‘But you should have seen the air I was getting with my jumps before I canned out. It was awesome!’

Thanks to the entonox, Erin’s smile was still apparent even when Hugo and Lizzie straightened her arm and applied the first layers of plaster bandages.

‘I’ll leave you to finish, Lizzie, and get another X-ray done. Sorry—it’s going to make you a bit late getting off duty.’

‘No problem,’ the older nurse assured him. ‘Can you just make sure Anne’s coping in Reception before you disappear again?’

Anne was coping admirably. She had provided a cup of tea for the bus driver and they were having an animated conversation in front of the silent, pale audience that filled all the seating the reception area had to offer.

‘So they come all the way to New Zealand just to do the white weddings?’

‘They have another ceremony in Japan later. Or maybe they do it first.’ The driver’s shrug indicated the unimportance of the order. ‘It’s great business, anyway. I do the honeymoon run every couple of weeks now.’

Hugo ran an experienced eye over the exhausted and somewhat bewildered-looking audience. ‘Things seem to have settled down here.’

‘Nobody’s been sick in the last twenty minutes.’ Anne nodded. She lowered her voice. ‘I think Jess might need danger money when she comes in to clean the loos tonight, though.’

‘Can’t say I’m looking forward to cleaning up my bus either.’ The driver drained his mug. ‘All part of the job, I guess, so I’d better get on with it. Thanks for your help, Doc.’

‘You’re welcome. I don’t think anybody will be wanting to go bungy-jumping or jet-boating tomorrow. They all need a good rest and an intake of clear fluids. Tell the tour guide to call a doctor if she’s worried about anyone later. The hotel management will be able to help.’

Walking down the corridor again, Hugo could see the young honeymooners shivering as they climbed back onto their bus. Night had fallen with winter’s dramatic suddenness and, judging by the spectacular red glow silhouetting the top of the craggy mountain range, it was going to be an icy one. Winter Festival participants would be happy with the fine day that tomorrow would undoubtedly bring. Apart from Erin, of course, who would no longer be participating in any freestyle snowboarding competition.

No summons had come from Maternity and Hugo was not surprised to find that Joan had managed a potentially difficult birth without his assistance. He arrived at the delivery suite again to find an extended and happy family crowding the room.

‘It’s a girl,’ Ben informed him solemnly. ‘I got to cut the cord.’

‘Congratulations—she’s gorgeous.’ Hugo’s admiring gaze gave no indication that he was assessing the new baby’s condition. ‘Have you chosen a name?’

‘Mannie!’ Henry shouted.

‘Melanie,’ Nicola corrected with a tired smile. ‘Do you want to give your sister a kiss, Harry?’

‘No.’ Henry wriggled in his grandmother’s arms. ‘Mannie’s dirty.’

‘She just hasn’t had her bath yet.’ Joan caught Hugo’s eye. ‘Apgar score at one minute was nine and it was ten at both five and ten minutes.’

Hugo smiled at Melanie’s proud parents. ‘Sounds like she’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll check her properly when you’ve had some more time for a cuddle.’

‘Nicky might need a couple of stitches but it’s only a small tear.’

‘Placenta intact?’

‘Appears to be. It’s over there if you want to check.’ Joan nodded towards a covered basin on the trolley. Hugo reached for a pair of gloves as Henry began drumming his small heels against his grandmother’s legs.

‘Wanna get down.’

If Hugo had been a little quicker he might have rescued the basin before Henry tripped and fell against the trolley, which tipped over with a resounding crash. The small boy howled with fright, his new sister took up the cry and the rest of the family looked alarmed. Joan’s smile was tight. She picked up the toddler and deposited him firmly onto the chair beside the bed.

‘Sit on this chair, Henry. And don’t move!’ She leaned down. ‘If you’re a good boy and stop crying right now, I’ll see if I can find you an ice block.’

Henry hiccuped as the sobs subsided. Hugo scooped up the mess on the floor, silently applauding Joan’s ability to deal with small children. It was disturbing to find he was now looking forward to leaving work so eagerly but there was just so much a man could take in one day. Grandma took Henry home, Hugo stitched up Nicola’s tear and Joan took the baby to the nursery to clean her up. Hugo joined her and pronounced the baby fit and healthy after a thorough paediatric check. He watched as Joan expertly applied a tiny disposable nappy and then swaddled the tiny girl in a soft cotton blanket.

‘You make that look so easy.’

‘It is easy.’ Joan tucked the baby into the crook of her elbow and smiled at the infant. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’

‘Absolutely.’ Hugo couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason for his sudden unease. Maybe it was because it was taking so long for him to escape.

‘Do you know, I’ve delivered more than a hundred babies since I came here?’

‘Really? I guess you would have. You’ve been here nearly three years and we get about ninety births per annum.’ He smiled admiringly. ‘You’re doing your fair share, that’s for sure. Are you still enjoying your job?’

‘Oh, I love it.’ Joan’s smile was rather wistful, however.

‘But?’

Joan hesitated. The glance she gave Hugo seemed almost shy. ‘I guess sometimes I wonder how many more of these bundles of joy I’ll deliver for other women before I get one of my own.’

Hugo’s unease deepened perceptibly. ‘You’re only thirty, Joan. There’s plenty of time…isn’t there?’

‘Of course.’ Joan had hesitated just long enough to let Hugh know that, as someone who cared, it was his duty to investigate this matter further. His sigh of relief as his pager sounded was fortunately not audible.

‘I’d better get that.’ The atmosphere became safely professional again. ‘I’ll catch you later when I check on Nicola again. Maybe we’ll have time for a coffee before you go home.’

‘You’d better get your skates on, then.’ Joan glanced up at the wall clock. ‘I’ve got my oil-painting class at eight o’clock and I can’t miss that again.’

Hugo didn’t really need to spend twenty minutes in the long-stay geriatric ward, making sure that Nancy was as comfortable as possible and that the night nursing staff would continue her close monitoring. Neither did he need to do such a thorough check on the four general medical patients they had at present. The trip to A and E to send Erin home with some pain relief and instructions on caring for her arm was not entirely necessary either, but each task he set himself seemed perfectly prudent. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to take so long getting back to Maternity.

‘Has Joan gone home, then?’ he asked the night nurse.

‘Twenty minutes ago. Did you want her for something?’

‘No.’ Hugo was disconcerted to find a hint of relief rather than disappointment lurking. He must be more tired than he’d thought. ‘How’s Nicola?’

‘Sound asleep—just like her daughter. Do you want to see them?’

‘I won’t disturb them. It’s high time I went home myself.’

The road curved around the edges of Lake Wakatipu and Hugo found himself nurturing his first real hope of winding down from a long and tiring day. The level of stress he was trying to escape was unusually high. He loved his job and his lifestyle and it was a rare occurrence to have a day as hectic as today’s had been. The busload of poisoned honeymooners had tipped the balance a little too close to chaos for comfort but the diverse range of illnesses and injuries that tourists to the area brought was part of what kept his life as a rural doctor so interesting.

And the tourists were flocking to Central Otago, and Queenstown in particular, in increasing numbers every year. More than once the alpine resort had received accolades of being the friendliest foreign city and it was the only New Zealand destination to rank amongst the world’s top twenty. A place of enormous scenic beauty, with a rich gold-mining history and award-winning vineyards, Queenstown had also earned a reputation as the adventure capital of the world. With a baseline population of fewer than twenty thousand people, peak summer and winter tourist seasons could take numbers to over forty thousand. That dramatically increased the workload of the available GPs and the local hospital where Hugo worked for most of his time as its on-call physician and medical administrator.

Two startled rabbits ran from the beam of the headlamps as Hugo turned to swing his Jeep into the covered space the old woolshed provided for his vehicle. Three old farm dogs competed for his attention the moment he stepped out, and Hugo bent to fondle three pairs of ears before making his way to the long, low house sitting only metres away from the lake-side shingle beach. Having reached the veranda, he paused for a moment despite the bone-chilling temperature to take in the shimmer of moonlight gilding the glassy, black surface of the lake. It was bright enough to make the lights of Queenstown on the far shore of little note.

The happy panting of the dogs and the gentle rub of shingle from tiny waves at the lake’s edge were the only sounds to break a deep and peaceful silence. Then a muted whine from one of the dogs reminded Hugo that he was very late producing their dinner. He moved inside, checked his phone for messages, opened the logburner to add wood and crank up the air flow and then filled the three bowls in the laundry with dog nuts. Reaching into the fridge to retrieve the remains of last night’s casserole for himself, Hugo spotted the half-finished bottle of white wine. One glass wouldn’t hurt, even if he was on call. The only message on his phone was from his mother and Hugo had an uneasy feeling that talking to Gwen Patterson might not be the best way to try and unwind.

In fact, it might be better if he put off returning the call until tomorrow. Leaving the bottle where it was, Hugo put the casserole in the microwave and hit the reheat button. The old leather armchair near the fire looked extremely inviting and Hugo took his plate in that direction a few minutes later. The phone was within reach, recent, unread copies of his favourite medical journals were on the coffee-table beside the chair and his dogs were lying contentedly in the circle of warmth. Hugo felt his stress levels declining rapidly. He was, once again, a very happy man.

At least, he was until the insistent call of the telephone jerked him from a very pleasant post-prandial doze.

‘Darling, you’re finally home! I rang earlier.’

‘I was just thinking about you,’ Hugo said in surprise. The half-dream had been a less pleasant aspect of the doze. He had been almost convinced that his mother was about to arrive on his doorstep for another extended visit—intent on finding the woman who would bear her grandchildren. As much as Hugo loved his mother, anything more than a three-day visit was a daunting prospect. ‘I’ve been incredibly busy today,’ he added hurriedly. ‘In fact, life is generally a bit hectic at the moment.’

‘Don’t worry, Hugo. I’m not planning a surprise visit. Queenstown’s far too cold for me in winter.’

‘It’s freezing,’ Hugo agreed. ‘But the mountains are looking glorious with all the snow.’ He relaxed a little. ‘How are you, Mum?’

‘Oh, I’m fine.’ The fact that Gwen had something more important on her mind than the list of minor, age-related physical ailments she loved to discuss with her son, the doctor, was a warning. That she had rung twice in the space of two hours made the matter of some urgency.

‘Is everything OK at home?’

‘Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. Apart from the fridge. It’s making a very funny noise. Sort of a clunk and then a dribbling sound. It always seems to happen in the middle of the night.’

‘Are you not sleeping well?’ Talking about fridges reminded Hugo of that bottle of wine. He pushed himself slowly to his feet.

‘I’m fine,’ Gwen repeated impatiently. ‘I didn’t ring up to talk about me, dear.’

‘Who did you ring up to talk about?’

‘Maggie Johnston.’

Hugo sat down again abruptly. And silently.

‘Are you still there, Hugo?’

‘Of course. Did you say Maggie Johnston?’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who she is?’

‘No.’ Hugo’s tone was cautious. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’

The silence spoke volumes. A single instant that managed to cover so many years. A wealth of memories, both happy and sad. Flashes of grief. Of laughter. Of a lifetime left well behind now.

‘I keep in touch with her mother, you know. Eleanor and I always exchange Christmas cards. She rang me up yesterday. Or was it Monday? Anyway, she wanted to talk about Maggie.’

‘Why? Is she in some kind of trouble?’

‘Oh, no! Nothing like that. She’s coming to Queenstown. On Friday. I told Eleanor she could stay with you, dear.’

‘What?’ Hugo stood up again and this time he kept moving. Towards the fridge. ‘What did you tell her something like that for?’

‘They’re old friends, Hugo. Almost family. You know how close we all were once.’

‘That was a very long time ago,’ Hugo reminded his mother. He shook his head. ‘She’s coming this Friday? What for? Does she ski?’

‘I didn’t ask Eleanor about skiing. Does it matter?’

‘No.’ Hugo gritted his teeth as he opened the fridge. ‘I just wondered why she was coming.’

‘Oh. She’s got a new job.’

Hugo extracted the bottle of wine. ‘What’s she doing these days?’ He reached for a glass from the cupboard as a horrible thought struck. ‘Didn’t I hear years ago that she had gone nursing?’ They were trying to recruit nursing staff at his hospital. The prospect of having to work with Maggie Johnston was alarming to say the least.

‘Yes, you’re right.’ Gwen sounded surprised. ‘I’d forgotten that. But she’s not nursing now…I don’t think.’

Hugo pulled the half-inserted cork from the bottle with his teeth and poured what he hoped would be a reviving drink. There was no point trying to jog his mother’s memory. She would be happy to agree with whatever he suggested and prepared to conclude that whatever it was was probably correct.

‘Eleanor said something about driving. Yes, I’m sure that was it. Maybe she’s driving a truck.’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Probably something articulated and weighing in at about twenty tons.’

‘That’s a bit heavy for a girl, isn’t it?’

‘Maggie’s not a girl, Mum. She’s a grown woman.’ Hugo’s mental calculation was swift. He was thirty-six. His sister Felicity and Maggie had both been six years younger. ‘She’s thirty years old, for heaven’s sake,’ he grumbled. ‘She doesn’t need someone looking after her. I’m sure she’s perfectly capable of finding her own accommodation. She’s probably quite happy to pitch a tent on the side of the road if she has to.’ Hugo breathed a sigh of relief. ‘In fact, those large trucks usually have a sleeping compartment behind the driver’s cab. I’m sure I could find her a place to park it.’

‘Oh, no! That wouldn’t do at all, dear. I don’t think she owns a truck. She just drives…something. Eleanor said she’s been trying very hard to find a house to rent but they’re as scarce as hen’s teeth and ridiculously expensive.’

There was no hint of relief in Hugo’s sigh this time. Queenstown was notorious for a lack of rental accommodation during peak tourist periods and for outrageous prices at most times. He could well remember his own delight in purchasing a property of his own. His own home. Where he lived, quite happily, by himself.

‘There’s always motels. I’m sure I could find an available room.’

‘That’s what Eleanor suggested.’

Good for Eleanor, Hugo thought. At least someone was on his side.

‘But I said, “Don’t be ridiculous, Nelly. Why should she pay a hundred dollars a night when Hugo has a spare room and he’s living there all by himself. Lonely.”’

‘I’m not lonely, Mum. I keep telling you how happy I am.’

‘You’re still living by yourself, dear. It’s not natural—not at your age. You should be settled down with a nice little family by now. Do you know I’m the only person in my bridge club who doesn’t have any grandchildren?’

‘You have mentioned it once or twice.’

‘Some of them have ten!’

‘I’m working on it, Mum.’

‘I’m seventy, Hugo. And last time I checked I wasn’t getting any younger.’

The reference to a biological clock struck a disturbing note that distracted Hugo momentarily. Where had he heard something like that recently? ‘You don’t look anything like seventy,’ he said. Maybe some flattery would help him change the subject. ‘Are you keeping up with your yoga classes?’

‘Of course. Don’t try and change the subject, Hugo.’

‘As if I would.’ Could, Hugo amended silently with a wry grin.

‘How long is it that you and that girl have been seeing each other? You know who I mean. Jenny. No, Jane.’

‘Joan,’ Hugo supplied. He took a long swallow of his wine. That was it. It had been Joan’s biological clock he’d heard ticking today. ‘And we’ve been friends for about a year now.’

‘Are you going to marry her?’

‘Marriage isn’t something to rush into, Mum.’

‘I rushed into it with your father. We had sixteen very happy years together. Your dad had two beautiful children by the time he was your age.’

The short silence was weighted by the memory of his father’s premature death when Hugo had been only fourteen. At least Gary Patterson hadn’t had to live through the tragic loss of his teenage daughter. A daughter who would probably have obliged by producing at least a few grandchildren by now.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Hugo said placatingly.

‘You would have married her by now if she was the right woman,’ Gwen suggested brightly. ‘Maybe you should keep looking for a bit.’

‘I don’t have time to go out hunting for women.’ Hugo was annoyed by his mother’s inadvertently perceptive observation. Striking up a friendship with Joan had been almost inevitable due to her availability as a nurse in his hospital. The relationship had become a reasonably comfortable habit until very recently. Possibly today, in fact. Joan’s comment about her age and babies had probably made him uneasy because it reminded him of his mother. And now his mother was making him uneasy by sowing a seed of doubt about the liaison that suddenly seemed familiar enough to have been around, unrecognised, for some time.

‘I don’t think Maggie’s married.’

Hugo’s huff of laughter was incredulous. ‘Mum! Maggie’s a—’ He stopped short. OK, he hadn’t seen Maggie for more than ten years and she hadn’t really stepped out of ‘kid’ category then, but she was a grown woman now. He’d said as much himself and far too assertively to go back on. And he didn’t want to go back on that statement. Kids needed looking after. They needed a place to stay. ‘Maggie’s family,’ he amended hurriedly. ‘Or close enough, anyway. Like you said yourself.’

‘Exactly!’ Gwen sounded triumphant. ‘That’s why I knew you wouldn’t object when I told Nelly Maggie could stay with you.’

Hugo’s groan was silent. If he changed his tune and objected that Maggie wasn’t really in their extended family, his mother would have her pegged as a potential mother for her grandchildren. Either way, he was in for some feminine emotional blackmail that he really didn’t have the energy to contend with. He drained his glass of wine.

‘Fine,’ he growled reluctantly. ‘She can stay.’

‘For as long as she likes,’ his mother finished helpfully.

‘For as long as it takes her to find a suitable permanent arrangement,’ Hugo corrected firmly.

‘I knew you’d be happy about it.’

‘I didn’t say I was happy.’

‘Nelly will be so pleased.’ Gwen appeared to be ignoring his comments. ‘I think she worries about Maggie more than she lets on.’

‘Somehow—’ Hugo was unaware of the wry expression on his features ‘—that really doesn’t surprise me.’

CHAPTER TWO

BLACK ice.

The small car lost traction and went into a skid, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees before careening sideways into the solid rock wall of the gorge. Maggie Johnston braked her own vehicle gently, negotiating the curve around the crashed car until she had gone far enough to be easily seen by oncoming traffic. She hit the hazard light button on her dashboard and then pulled the release catch for the hatch at the back of her car. Thank goodness she had unearthed her first-aid kit before stuffing in any more of her worldly possessions now filling all the available space.

And thank goodness the car had skidded towards the solid side of this tortuous road. Had it gone the other way it would have tumbled about fifty metres into the impressive flow of the Cromwell River that sliced through the base of this picturesque gorge. Maggie wasn’t thinking about the setting’s scenic qualities right now, however. Having alerted the emergency services of the incident, she was now assessing the hazards the scene presented. Her own car would warn traffic of the obstruction on that side of the road around the bend. The narrow section in the direction she was now walking was relatively straight and…yes, there was another vehicle approaching with due caution. Maggie waved her arms and the driver stopped and rolled down his window.

‘Is anybody hurt?’

‘I’m about to find out.’ Maggie’s air of control was unconscious. ‘Could you park your car back at the next bend and put your hazard lights on? Wave down any approaching traffic and warn them to stop.’

‘Have you called an ambulance?’

‘It’s on its way. I just need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with.’ Maggie was already moving away swiftly. ‘Don’t worry, I do know what I’m doing. I’m a paramedic.’

It was only a minute or so after the accident that Maggie reached the passenger’s door of the crashed car, which was accessible. The occupant on that side was sitting there, clearly stunned by what had happened. Maggie tried the doorhandle but the front of the car was crumpled enough for it to have jammed. She noted that no airbags had been deployed as she tapped on the window.

‘Hello, can you hear me?’

The woman’s head turned and she blinked at Maggie in bewilderment.

‘Can you roll your window down?’ Maggie called. ‘I can’t open the door.’

The woman moved quickly now and the window lowered. Maggie leaned in so that she could see the driver as well.

‘Hello, there. Are either of you injured?’

‘I…I’m not sure,’ the driver stammered. ‘I don’t know what happened.’

‘You hit a patch of ice,’ Maggie told him. ‘Your car skidded and hit the wall.’

‘Oh, God!’ The middle-aged woman burst into tears. ‘We could have been killed.’

‘It’s OK,’ Maggie said. ‘You’re safe. My name’s Maggie and I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me if you have any pain anywhere?’

‘No.’ The woman was struggling to release her safety belt. ‘I want to get out.’

‘My neck hurts,’ the man said. ‘And I’m bleeding. I’ve cut my arm.’

‘Try and stay still,’ Maggie instructed. She couldn’t see any evidence of major ongoing blood loss and neither occupant was showing any signs of breathing difficulties. She looked at the car again. It was a three-door hatchback very similar to her own so it was going to be difficult for anyone to climb into the back and provide support for a potential cervical injury. The passenger door was jammed and the driver’s door was blocked by the rock wall it rested against. She looked past the car to the group of people approaching.

‘Does anybody have a crowbar or something similar?’ she called. ‘I need to try and get this door open.’

‘Let me try.’ A large man stepped forward. He reached for the door catch and pulled. Maggie saw him frown as he reassessed the situation. She picked up her mobile phone and made contact with the emergency services again.

‘We have two people trapped,’ she informed them. ‘One appears to be status 4, the other status 3 with a possible cervical injury. We need the fire service, a tow truck and an ambulance.’ She glanced at the growing number of onlookers. ‘We’re probably getting a bit of a traffic jam on the road as well.’

The man trying the door was now gripping the window-frame as the passenger held the catch open from the inside. He had his foot against the bottom of the car and with each pull the metal was giving a little. As Maggie finished her call the door was finally wrenched open enough to allow the woman to escape. She was still sobbing and Maggie gave her over to the care of the bystanders with instructions to keep her warm as she opened her first-aid kit and then climbed into the vehicle.

‘Is your car fitted with airbags?’

‘Just on my side. Why hasn’t it gone off?’

‘I don’t know.’ Maggie reminded herself to be careful until the fire service arrived with a cover for the steering-wheel. Getting between an injured occupant and a deploying airbag had killed more than one paramedic since their introduction.

‘Are you having any difficulty breathing at all?’

‘It hurts a bit when I take a deep breath.’

‘OK. I’m going to check your neck and put a collar around it and then I’ll listen to your breathing. What’s your name?’

‘James. Colin James.’

‘Have you got any medical problems I should know about, Colin? Do you suffer from any heart conditions? Asthma? High blood pressure?’

By the time the first assistance arrived, Maggie had completed a thorough assessment on both victims and was happy there were no serious injuries. Colin’s neck pain was probably due to mild whiplash. The collar was just a precaution until an X-ray examination could confirm her impression. As Maggie introduced herself and handed over the various components of scene control, she found herself becoming the centre of attention rather than her patients.

The ambulance arrived after the fire service and police and the crews of those vehicles were ready for the approach of the young, male ambulance officer.

‘Watch out, Jason,’ they warned jovially. ‘Your boss has beaten you to it. This is Maggie Johnston, the new station manager for Lakeview.’

‘You’re kidding!’ The officer’s face split into a wide grin. ‘Welcome to Central Otago, Maggie.’

‘Hell of an introduction.’ Maggie returned the grin. ‘I’m not supposed to start work till Monday.’ She was surprised but not at all put off by her future colleague’s short, dread-locked hair. He looked intelligent and had a very friendly smile. She held out her hand. ‘But thanks for the welcome.’

Her hand was shaken warmly. ‘I’m Jason Locke. I got your update from Control on the way so I knew there was someone here who knew what they were doing. Has the status changed for either patient?’

‘No. Mrs James was uninjured. Neither were KO’d and both have a GCS of 15. Colin has two out of ten neck pain, no associated neurology. He’s got some bruising from the seat belt but his chest is clear. Abdomen’s also clear. Blood pressure is 130 over 90. He’s got a minor laceration on his right forearm which I’ve dressed. That will probably need a few stitches. I’ve put a C-collar on and made a note of baseline vitals on both patients.’

‘Cool.’ Jason was nodding. Then he grinned again. ‘You wouldn’t like to complete the paperwork while you’re at it, would you?’

Maggie raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you single-crewed?’

‘That’s nothing unusual at the moment. We’ve got plenty of staff for the patient transfer side of the service and they’re qualified to fill gaps in the emergency roster, along with the volunteers, but we’ve been pushing them a bit hard for the last couple of months so it’s not just me that’s been looking forward to your arrival.’

‘What would you like me to do?’

‘I’ll grab a backboard,’ Jason said. ‘If you could help with the extrication and another assessment before I head off I’d be very grateful.’

Maggie also completed the two patient report forms and offered to travel with the ambulance if someone else could drive her car.

‘If it was a serious injury I’d take you up on that offer,’ Jason said. ‘But we’re fine, now. One of the fire guys, Andy, is a mate. He’ll drive me back. I’m sure you’ll want to get into town and get settled before it gets any later. Or colder. Call in at the station tomorrow and I’ll give you the grand tour.’

‘Thanks. I suppose I’d better try and find where I’m staying before it gets dark. The address sounds a bit isolated.’

‘Where are you heading?’

‘I need to look for a turn-off about six kilometres past the hospital. I take Spencer Road and then head off on an unnamed road across the paddocks looking for a house by the lake. I’m told I can’t miss it.’

‘Sounds like Doc Patterson’s place.’

‘It is. He’s an old friend.’

‘No kidding?’ Jason shook his head as he pulled the back doors of the ambulance closed. ‘Small world, isn’t it? Is that why you’ve come to work in this area?’

‘No.’ Maggie’s smile was almost rueful. ‘It’s just a lucky coincidence.’

It was a coincidence. Maggie had had no idea that Hugo Patterson had settled near Queenstown when she’d applied for the ambulance station manager’s position. And it was lucky in that it was solving a temporary accommodation hassle, but Maggie had doubts about the arrangement. Surely, if Hugo had been happy about it, he would have contacted her himself and not sent a message and directions via their respective mothers. The message had also been unexpectedly welcoming. If Hugo was so keen to see her, why had he not made any contact for more than a decade? And why had Hugo’s mother deemed it necessary to give her the information that he was unmarried and in some kind of relationship with a most unsuitable woman? It was none of her business after all. Maybe she was heading into a situation she would regret.

She couldn’t regret her impulsive decision to try a new start in a totally new part of the country, however. Maggie completed the last few kilometres of her journey towards Queenstown completely awed by the magnificent surroundings. Some of the Southern Alps’ most impressive peaks towered over the deep, glacier-gouged lakes in the area and Wakatipu, the huge and icy-cold serpent-shaped lake she was approaching now was the most famous. Reading up on her destination recently, Maggie had been intrigued to learn that the lake ‘breathed’ with a rhythmical rise and fall of its water level every five minutes. Maori legend had the lake being formed when an evil, sleeping giant had been set on fire, melting the snow and ice of the nearby mountains to fill the eighty-kilometre-long lake. That the movements were caused by variations in atmospheric pressure was an explanation of far less appeal.

Hugo lived right on the shore of the breathing lake and Maggie suspected that he would present the scientific version of the peculiar phenomenon. Not that Hugo was unimaginative or stuffy, but he had always been a fount of knowledge, and old and wise enough to be completely trustworthy. He had been more than a big brother figure. Hugo Patterson had been the only man of any significance in Maggie’s early life and she had loved him as much as his sister Felicity had.

Far enough removed in years to have seemed always adult, Hugo had been there whenever it had mattered. He’d helped with child care, homework and transport. He’d put up with the girls’ teasing, ignored the minor pranks and applied appropriate justice when needed for the major ones. In retrospect, Maggie knew he’d been fair in reprimanding her more than Felicity on most occasions and she’d accepted those judgements eventually. She knew that an undercurrent of strong affection had tempered any disapproval and the fact that she had returned his affection had made the agonies of puppy fat, pimples, braces on her teeth and that appalling hair all the harder to bear.

Yes, his affection had been returned. And more. But Maggie had never admitted to that teenage crush, even to Felicity, and it had been easy to hide once Hugo had been away at medical school. Felicity’s death had finally severed their connection and the estrangement had hurt. The ultimate judgement had been that she had been in some way to blame for the tragedy and Maggie had been devastated enough to accept it without ever having the courage to challenge more than her own interpretation.

Maybe Hugo’s invitation to stay was an indication that the past was finally behind them. That they could both find the closure that had been somehow elusive despite the passage of so much time. The notion was welcome but it was also rather nerve-racking and Maggie freely admitted to herself that she was nervous. What she wasn’t prepared to admit was that part of the nervousness had nothing to do with having to relive past traumas. Maggie was drawn to this reunion for reasons she would never try to analyse too deeply.

It could be disguised as mere curiosity. The only photo she had of Hugo was nearly fifteen years old. Had age dimmed the strong lines of his face? Faded the rich dark brown of his hair? Had he gone bald perhaps and started wearing spectacles? And what kind of man was Hugo now? Maggie’s memories had built him into a yardstick by which all other men had eventually failed to measure up. What if she’d wasted the last ten years looking for a replica of someone who didn’t actually exist?

Nervousness was not an emotion that Maggie tolerated for long. Action overcame fear and Maggie had never lacked the confidence to take action. These days she had learned to think a little more carefully about consequences, however, and she was optimistic that she had made a good choice in coming to Central Otago. That she was going to see Hugo and possibly renew an old friendship was a bonus. She was looking forward to the responsibilities and challenges in taking up the job she loved passionately in a new and exciting place.

So new that Maggie had no idea where she was going and missed the turn-off at Frankton. Taking advantage of the error, she carried on into the township of Queenstown, promising herself a cup of good coffee after making the prudent purchase of a more detailed map of the area. The lack of any discernible twilight was disconcerting, as was the darkness when she finally doubled back along the main road, but Maggie simply gave herself a mental shake. She was going to have to be able to locate obscure addresses in the area at night soon enough. At least this would be a practice run without a potentially life-threatening emergency waiting at the other end.

The hospital complex was easy enough to spot and Maggie noted the ambulance station on site. She didn’t slow down for a better look, however. Hugo had probably been expecting her to arrive well before this and she didn’t want to add to any nuisance value her visit might already have caused. Spencer Road was also easy enough to find but driving over the rough shingle road that led off to the right felt like a venture into the totally unknown.

The darkness was a blanket, the empty spaces of paddocks on either side vaguely threatening, and the silence when Maggie stepped out of the car to open a wire gate was oppressive. This was the back of beyond, and somewhere at the end of this road lay a lake that housed a sleeping giant and a dwelling that housed a man that Maggie was suddenly almost frightened of seeing again.

‘Sorry I’m late. Something smells fantastic.’

‘It smelt a lot better half an hour ago.’ Joan accepted Hugo’s brief kiss and the bottle of wine he was holding. ‘Mmm. A white Burgundy. That’ll go perfectly with the fish. Or what’s left of it.’

‘Sorry,’ Hugo repeated. ‘I got held up. There was an MVA up the Cromwell gorge.’

‘Oh.’ Joan’s murmur was understanding, now. ‘How bad was it?’

‘Nothing serious. We just had to exclude a cervical fracture by X-ray. Bit of minor suturing. We discharged them both.’

‘I heard the sirens.’ Joan lived in the tiny settlement of Frankton, between the hospital and Queenstown. ‘But that was hours ago.’

‘It took a while to tidy everything up,’ Hugo responded. ‘You know what those cases can be like. Then I had to duck home for a bit.’ Hugo sat down on a cream leather sofa with a relaxed sigh. Joan’s apartment, a small unit in a complex overlooking the holiday camp, was a space that Hugo was now quite familiar with. Not as relaxing as being at home but pleasant, nonetheless. Not that he was given much time to unwind. He had to stand up again almost immediately as Joan placed a steaming platter on the dining table.

‘We may as well eat this before it dries out any more.’

The continued reminder of being later than he had forecast was irritating. So was the ‘please explain’ expression on Joan’s face.

‘Why did you have to go home?’

‘I was expecting a visitor. I thought she might have arrived and found the house locked up.’

‘She?’

‘Maggie.’ Hugo watched as Joan served a portion of what looked like an exotic mix of steamed trout and herbs. ‘She wasn’t there so I just left the house unlocked and a note telling her to make herself at home. I said I had an important date I didn’t want to miss.’ Hopefully, sharing the inspired if somewhat inaccurate content of the note would improve Joan’s uncharacteristically reserved mood.

Joan added little bundles of carrot slivers and green beans tied up in some kind of plant material to their plates and then sat down.

‘Who’s Maggie?’

‘An old family friend. My mother asked me to put her up for a few days.’

‘Oh.’ Joan’s smile reappeared. ‘She’s a friend of your mother’s, then?’

‘Not exactly.’ Hugo tasted the fish. ‘This is great,’ he enthused. ‘What are those little green things?’

‘Capers.’

‘Taste bombs, aren’t they?’ Hugo took another mouthful. ‘Wish I could cook like you do.’

Joan was extracting bones from her fish with surgical precision. ‘What do you mean by “not exactly”?’

Hugo repressed a sigh. ‘Maggie is like a kid sister, I guess. She was my sister Felicity’s best mate. They were like twins growing up.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sister.’

‘I don’t.’ This time the sigh escaped. ‘Not any more. She was killed in a car accident when she was nineteen.’

‘Oh…I’m so sorry, Hugh. I didn’t know.’

‘No,’ Hugo agreed sombrely. ‘Of course you didn’t. I never talk about her.’

The silence grew and had the effect of highlighting the distance suddenly apparent between them. Why had Hugo never spoken of such a personal catastrophe? Joan glanced at him several times before speaking again.

‘It’ll be nice to see her again, then. Maggie, I mean,’ she finished awkwardly.

‘I’m not sure about that,’ Hugo said slowly. Maybe it was time to be more open with Joan. The friendship had ticked along at a snail’s pace for so long now. Maybe it was time to test the waters and see if it was ever going to come to anything really meaningful. Time to give more of himself than he’d ever been prepared to with any woman.

‘Actually,’ he said quietly, ‘I haven’t seen Maggie since she and Felicity headed off to Europe when they were eighteen. That’s twelve years ago.’

‘And the accident happened overseas?’

‘In Greece.’ Hugo nodded. ‘They were in a van and it got hit by a bus and rolled over a cliff.’

‘And Maggie was driving?’

‘No.’ Hugo raised an eyebrow. ‘What makes you think that?’

Joan frowned. ‘I just got the impression that maybe you blame Maggie for the accident and that’s why you’re not so keen to see her again.’

‘Maybe I do,’ Hugo admitted. ‘Felicity should have been off to university when she finished school. She was very bright and she had a passion for history which was what she intended to major in. Taking a year off to go traipsing around Europe seemed like a waste of time. It was Maggie’s idea, of course.’

‘Why of course?’

‘Because it was always Maggie who had the ideas. Felicity was only too happy to trail in her wake. Anything Maggie thought of doing was wildly exciting but she would never have gone to Europe by herself. She never had that kind of confidence.’

‘And has Maggie never even made contact with you since the accident?’ Joan sounded horrified. ‘Surely she realised how devastating it must have been for you?’

‘She was pretty devastated herself.’ Hugo had known at the time that keeping his distance had been harsh but it had been the only way he could possibly have coped. ‘She was quite badly hurt in the accident herself so she couldn’t travel back for the funeral. She wrote a couple of times but I never got round to answering and months turned into years and I suppose neither of us would have wanted to revisit that part of our lives.’

‘So why did you offer to let her stay with you?’

‘I didn’t. My mother offered on my behalf.’ Hugo shook his head as he smiled. ‘She’s another woman who can be rather persuasive.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But never mind. I’m sure I can cope with seeing Maggie. I moved on from all that a long time ago.’ Hugo’s smile was for Joan this time. ‘That’s probably why I never bothered mentioning it to you.’

‘I’m glad you have,’ Joan told him. ‘So I guess it’s a good thing that you’re getting this visitor. Let’s just hope she’s not intending to stay for too long.’ She reached for the silver serving spoon. ‘Would you like some more of this trout? It’s not so bad after all, is it?’

The house was softly lit. Warm, inviting and…empty. Well, almost empty. Maggie grinned at the three dogs who were circling her feet, sniffing suspiciously.

‘It’s OK, guys. I’m not a burglar and I’ve got permission, see?’ She waved the note she had taken down from the front door. ‘This says I can make myself at home, the blue bedroom’s mine, there’s soup on the stove and you lot don’t bite.’ She held out her hand to one of the rangy black and white dogs, who backed away warily.

Maggie smiled ruefully. ‘I hope your owner’s a bit friendlier than you are. Or is he the one who bites?’

Pretending she was not miffed by the wall of canine suspicion, Maggie quickly explored the house. The main room was not huge but it felt spacious due to its open-plan design, leading at one end to the kitchen and dining area and opening to a television den at the other end. French doors to the verandah were draped against the chill of the night but Maggie could imagine the view on an early summer’s morning, watching the sun rise over the lake. The bedrooms also had French doors opening to the long verandah and Maggie had already spotted the casual wicker furniture on the wide outdoor extension to the house. Service areas, including two bathrooms and a laundry, were on the side of the house away from the lake but basically the dwelling was single-room width, built on the lake’s edge like a holiday cottage.

It seemed ancient. The wide, wooden floorboards had the rich patina of age and matched hardwood beams latticed the plaster ceilings of most of the rooms. The bathrooms and kitchen were up to date, however, and the old coal range that was keeping some delicious-smelling soup hot looked as though it had been kept purely for its aesthetic value. Furnishings appeared to have been chosen for comfort rather than style and the huge leather chair beside the woodburner looked as inviting as the soup smelt.

Maggie was tired. She had started the long drive down from the ferry terminal at Picton yesterday and had stopped overnight in Christchurch. She thought she’d paced the journey well but the interruption of dealing with that accident had drained any remaining energy. She pulled only the bare essentials of her possessions from her car to put in the spare bedroom with the pale, blue walls and darker blue bed covering, and then went to explore more thoroughly what the kitchen had to offer. A loaf of bread topped a wooden board beside the stove and Maggie helped herself to a thick slice, breaking off a piece of crust to nibble as she hunted for a suitable mug to ladle soup into. She noticed the eyes then. Four of them, with another two lurking a little further back. She grinned.

‘Oh…I’m not so bad now that I’m holding food, is that the story?’

A tail thumped. Then another. Maggie could have sworn the dogs exchanged vaguely embarrassed glances before sidling closer. Maggie held out what was left of the crust. ‘So, who’s going to be brave enough to go first, then?’

She hoped Hugo wasn’t a big eater. If he’d intended that loaf of bread for his breakfast he might be annoyed to find that Maggie had shared so much of it with his pets as she’d bribed them into friendship.

‘Mind you, we don’t have to tell him, do we?’ Maggie put the empty soup mug down on top of the pile of medical journals covering the table beside the chair. She curled her legs up so that she could lean more comfortably into the lovely old leather cushions. She scratched the set of ears that stood out from the rest by having one black and one white. The dog closed its eyes wearily.

‘Come on, then.’ Maggie drew her legs into a tighter ball and patted the space she had created on the chair beside her. ‘You look like you need a rest as much as I do.’

It was later than Hugo had intended by the time he headed home but he hadn’t expected to have to spend his evening making amends. He still wasn’t quite sure what he had been trying to atone for. His lateness, initially, but then what? Not Joan’s suspicions about him having a female house guest. He had no reason to feel guilty about that. It was more likely to have been the revelation of how little they really knew each other that had made him feel so guilty.

Hugo suspected he had spent the last three hours or so trying to do something about his lack of involvement in the relationship. Trying to let Joan know that he hadn’t been simply stringing her along for reasons of personal convenience. He had even kissed her with more enthusiasm than usual, too, but the lack of any overwhelming ambition to take her to bed still hadn’t changed. It had been Joan who had decreed that they take things slowly but a year was a bit ridiculous in anyone’s book, wasn’t it? And why hadn’t he felt inspired to do something about it?

He was too tired to worry about it now and it was irritating to feel like he had something else he would need to make amends for when he went into his own home. Maggie had probably felt unwelcome, arriving to an empty house with an impersonal note taped to the door. But she wasn’t welcome, was she? Maggie Johnston carried with her too many reminders of things Hugo had done his best to move on from. The thought of stirring parts of his soul best left to lie in peace was disturbing. It had been tough enough telling Joan the bare facts. Hugo realised then that that was the reason he had spent so long in Joan’s company tonight. He would have denied it strongly but he had been nervous about going home.

What was he going to find? A Mack truck filling the woolshed? An older but still stroppy female who might make demands on the strength of their past association? Trouble had always followed Maggie like a boisterous puppy, ready to leap unexpectedly and over-enthusiastically into prominence but never causing major damage. At least, not until that ill-fated trip overseas. Hugo shook his head. There was no point revisiting any of that again until he had to.

And maybe Maggie had changed. There was no vast truck parked in his woolshed. Just a very ordinary, small Toyota hatchback. And his house looked perfectly peaceful. Quiet. Too quiet, maybe. Where were the dogs? Had Maggie given up waiting for him to come home and taken herself off to bed? Hugo let himself into the house carefully so as not to disturb his guest if she was asleep. He clicked the front door shut quietly and trod softly across the short hallway to enter the living room. Then, two steps into the room, he stopped.

Maggie was asleep. Curled up in his big, leather chair. Two dogs lay guarding her feet, including Tuck—the dog who accepted no stranger but now had his nose resting on the chair’s cushion. And Lass, who was so shy it had taken Hugo weeks to win her trust, was actually on the chair with Maggie, coiled into a ball that fitted neatly behind Maggie’s knees. The gaze she bestowed on Hugo was frankly guilty and the white-tipped tail waved apologetically.

It was the movement of the dog that woke Maggie. She blinked in confusion for a long moment as Hugo stared back at her but then her face came alive, the smile extending to a delighted grin as she scrambled to her feet, scattering reluctant dogs.

‘Hugo!’

And with the sound of her voice myriad memories rushed at him. He could hear two voices. Young girls of about eight or nine. Teasing him as he arrived home from school.

‘Hugo!’

‘No, you go!’

‘No! Hugo!’

He could hear the echo of giggles but he could also remember the welcome that had lain beneath the teasing. Who else had ever been that pleased to see him? Had lain in wait to tease him unmercifully but had also sought him out to share something new and exciting or seek assistance when, once again, they had landed themselves in some kind of trouble?

Only Maggie and Felicity, that was who. And now it was just Maggie, but the pleasure of seeing him was there in her eyes and it was just the same. Hugo had to breathe in past the painful constriction his throat was experiencing.

‘Oh, Maggie,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’ And to his astonishment, he found the words were true.

He held out his arms and then, to his consternation, Maggie’s grin faded and gold-flecked hazel eyes sparkled with gathering tears. But then Maggie was in his arms and Hugo was being hugged with breathtaking enthusiasm and he was aware of nothing but the feeling that a huge chunk of his life that he had believed had gone for ever had just—miraculously—been given back to him.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.