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Authors: Alison Roberts
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there she found Florence beside Mary’s bed, and they were both looking appalled.
‘How could they?’ Florence was saying. ‘On Christmas Eve!’
‘Problem?’ Kate queried.
‘Someone’s stolen all the gifts that were in the mini-bus,’ the police officer told her. ‘Someone said they’d been sent, but Mrs Ballantyne says she didn’t arrange anything.’
‘No, I most certainly didn’t!’
‘The poor children.’ Florence looked close to tears. ‘As if they haven’t had enough to deal with tonight.’
‘The guys from the tow truck reckon they got a plate number. We’ve got road patrols keeping an eye out, but I wouldn’t bank on getting them back immediately.’ The police officer was sympathetic. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Mary’s nose was swollen, she had black circles under her eyes, and when she spoke it sounded as if she had a very bad cold—but, amazingly, she was smiling. She patted her housekeeper’s hand.
‘We’re lucky, Flo. Our wee Michael is going to be all right. What does it matter if the gifts have gone when we’ve all still got each other? Let’s get organised. They’re going to let us take Wally home and look after him there, and Helen will be ready to go when her plasters have dried a bit more. We’ll arrange some taxis for you, and I’ll stay here with Michael.’
‘Is he out of Theatre?’ Kate hadn’t had a chance to catch up on the most seriously injured child.
‘Just a few minutes ago.’ Florence wiped her eyes. ‘He’s going to be fine, but he’ll be in hospital for a while.’ She sniffed and turned to Mary. ‘And I’ll stay with him. The children need you to take them home.’
‘Let’s get on with it, then.’
‘I need just a couple of minutes,’ Kate said apologetically. ‘I’ve got a lot of gaps in these forms I need to fill in. Surnames and dates of birth and things for some of your children.’
‘You go,’ Mary directed Florence. ‘Be with Michael for when he wakes up in Recovery. You’ll have to be quick,’ she warned Kate. ‘I need to go to… Where are the children, Flo?’
‘The relatives’ room. We’ve made beds on the couches and most of them are asleep.’
‘I’ll show you,’ Kate promised. ‘This will only take a minute or two.’
R ORY WAS PUTTING the finishing touches on a magnificent bandage, but he knew that Kate was returning to the desk. He could feel her approach with a curious mix of pleasure and tension.
He’d added to that tension considerably. Of course she didn’t want to marry him. And she was quite right. There was nothing unusual about women raising families on their own. Where had that idiotic suggestion of marriage come from, anyway? He’d only gone in there with the intention of taking the first step towards involvement. To offer assistance and support.
He ripped off a length of tape to hold the end of the bandage in place.
They barely knew each other. One night together. Hardly enough time to warrant even thinking of the possibility of being a couple. Except that they’d worked together for a long time. Long enough to know each other very well on a professional basis. He liked Kate. He respected her.
He was very grateful to her. And, thanks to that gratitude, she had been in his head frequently for months, and it feltcuriously as though he knew everything he needed to know about Kate Simpson.
One more strip of tape should do the trick. Rory pressed gently as he attached it to Eve’s knee.
He should have expected that fierce streak of independence in Kate. She’d been left to cope alone, and that was exactly what she’d done. What he would have expected her to do. There had always been an aura of… What was it about Kate? Peace was the best word he could come up with. She was quiet and competent, and a bit of a loner in some ways. Happy with her own company. She had rarely joined in the social events that Rory’s life had revolved around.
They had
‘How could they?’ Florence was saying. ‘On Christmas Eve!’
‘Problem?’ Kate queried.
‘Someone’s stolen all the gifts that were in the mini-bus,’ the police officer told her. ‘Someone said they’d been sent, but Mrs Ballantyne says she didn’t arrange anything.’
‘No, I most certainly didn’t!’
‘The poor children.’ Florence looked close to tears. ‘As if they haven’t had enough to deal with tonight.’
‘The guys from the tow truck reckon they got a plate number. We’ve got road patrols keeping an eye out, but I wouldn’t bank on getting them back immediately.’ The police officer was sympathetic. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Mary’s nose was swollen, she had black circles under her eyes, and when she spoke it sounded as if she had a very bad cold—but, amazingly, she was smiling. She patted her housekeeper’s hand.
‘We’re lucky, Flo. Our wee Michael is going to be all right. What does it matter if the gifts have gone when we’ve all still got each other? Let’s get organised. They’re going to let us take Wally home and look after him there, and Helen will be ready to go when her plasters have dried a bit more. We’ll arrange some taxis for you, and I’ll stay here with Michael.’
‘Is he out of Theatre?’ Kate hadn’t had a chance to catch up on the most seriously injured child.
‘Just a few minutes ago.’ Florence wiped her eyes. ‘He’s going to be fine, but he’ll be in hospital for a while.’ She sniffed and turned to Mary. ‘And I’ll stay with him. The children need you to take them home.’
‘Let’s get on with it, then.’
‘I need just a couple of minutes,’ Kate said apologetically. ‘I’ve got a lot of gaps in these forms I need to fill in. Surnames and dates of birth and things for some of your children.’
‘You go,’ Mary directed Florence. ‘Be with Michael for when he wakes up in Recovery. You’ll have to be quick,’ she warned Kate. ‘I need to go to… Where are the children, Flo?’
‘The relatives’ room. We’ve made beds on the couches and most of them are asleep.’
‘I’ll show you,’ Kate promised. ‘This will only take a minute or two.’
R ORY WAS PUTTING the finishing touches on a magnificent bandage, but he knew that Kate was returning to the desk. He could feel her approach with a curious mix of pleasure and tension.
He’d added to that tension considerably. Of course she didn’t want to marry him. And she was quite right. There was nothing unusual about women raising families on their own. Where had that idiotic suggestion of marriage come from, anyway? He’d only gone in there with the intention of taking the first step towards involvement. To offer assistance and support.
He ripped off a length of tape to hold the end of the bandage in place.
They barely knew each other. One night together. Hardly enough time to warrant even thinking of the possibility of being a couple. Except that they’d worked together for a long time. Long enough to know each other very well on a professional basis. He liked Kate. He respected her.
He was very grateful to her. And, thanks to that gratitude, she had been in his head frequently for months, and it feltcuriously as though he knew everything he needed to know about Kate Simpson.
One more strip of tape should do the trick. Rory pressed gently as he attached it to Eve’s knee.
He should have expected that fierce streak of independence in Kate. She’d been left to cope alone, and that was exactly what she’d done. What he would have expected her to do. There had always been an aura of… What was it about Kate? Peace was the best word he could come up with. She was quiet and competent, and a bit of a loner in some ways. Happy with her own company. She had rarely joined in the social events that Rory’s life had revolved around.
They had
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