Carrying the Single Dad's Baby Page 2

  ‘Lovely to meet you, Beatrice, and welcome to Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital,’ Hayley said. ‘So how has your first day in the department been?’

  ‘Great. Everyone’s been lovely.’ Almost everyone. She wasn’t going to make a fuss.

  ‘They’re a good bunch,’ Hayley said.

  ‘She’s a good one, too,’ Sam said. ‘Our kitchen’s full of the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. Did you spend all last night baking them, Beatrice?’

  She smiled. ‘No, and I had a bit of help. Make sure you grab one for Hayley.’

  By the time they’d bought their lunch and settled at a table, still chatting, Beatrice was feeling very much part of the team.

  ‘So you’re coming back part time next month?’ she asked Hayley.

  Hayley nodded. ‘Much as I love my daughter, I miss work. Part time seemed like a good compromise.’

  ‘I agree,’ Beatrice said.

  ‘If you’d like a cuddle with Darcie, better get it in now because the whole department will swoop on her when we walk in,’ Sam said.

  A cuddle with the baby.

  Beatrice thought of her own baby, the stillborn daughter she’d held for a few brief minutes. What if that car hadn’t crashed into her? What if she hadn’t had the abruption, and Taylor had been born around her due date, alive?

  But now wasn’t the time or place to think about it. None of that was Sam’s or Hayley’s fault. She forced herself to smile brightly and scooped the baby from Sam’s arms. ‘She’s gorgeous.’

  ‘You’re good with babies,’ Hayley said when Darcie promptly yawned and fell asleep.

  Again, Beatrice shut the door in her head. ‘It comes from having three nephews and a niece. The youngest one’s four now.’ And how hard it had been to hold him. ‘But I’m an old hand at getting them to go to sleep.’

  ‘I’ll remember that and get you to teach me some tricks when Madam here starts teething,’ Hayley said. ‘Right. So, tell us all about you. Where did you train, where were you before here, do you have a partner and children...?’

  ‘Haze, give the poor woman a chance to breathe!’ Sam admonished, though he was smiling and looked as if he wanted to know the answers, too.

  ‘It’s fine. I trained at the Hampstead Free and I worked there until I came here,’ Beatrice said with a smile. The next bit was more tricky. Telling the whole truth would mean that her new colleagues would pity her as much as they had at the Hampstead Free, and she really didn’t want that. Better to keep it simple and stick to the bare bones. The facts, and no explanations. ‘No partner, no children.’ To make sure nobody would try any well-meaning matchmaking, she added, ‘And I’m concentrating very happily on my career.’ And now it was time to change the subject. ‘Can I ask you something confidential? I know I probably could’ve asked Josh, but I didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.’

  ‘Sure. Ask away,’ Hayley said.

  ‘It’s about Daniel Capaldi,’ Beatrice said.

  Sam and Hayley exchanged a glance, looking slightly uneasy.

  ‘I knew there was something. What am I missing?’ Beatrice asked.

  ‘Daniel’s a nice guy,’ Sam said carefully.

  What he wasn’t saying was obvious. Beatrice wasn’t afraid to put it into words. ‘But?’

  Hayley blew out a breath. ‘There isn’t a tactful way to say it, but I get the impression you’re a straight-talker so I know you won’t take this the wrong way. Everyone thought his name was on the consultant’s job.’

  ‘So I’ve got his job and he resents me for it.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Sam said.

  ‘But probably. Anyone would feel that way, in his shoes.’ Beatrice bit her lip. ‘OK. Thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful what I say to him. I don’t want to rub it in and make him feel bad.’

  ‘At the end of the day, the management team chose you,’ Hayley said. ‘He’ll get over it.’

  At least now Beatrice understood why Daniel had been a little snippy with her and less welcoming than other members of the team. She’d be careful with him—not patronising, but not throwing her weight around, either.

  After Hayley scooped the sleeping baby out of Beatrice’s arms and transferred her to the pram, Beatrice enjoyed having lunch with them. Muswell Hill was a good place. She had the strongest feeling that she was going to be happy here.

  ‘It’s not just about work, though,’ Hayley said. ‘There’s the regular pub quiz between us, Maternity and Paediatrics. How’s your general knowledge?’

  Beatrice thought of her brothers. ‘A bit obscure.’

  ‘Good. You’re on the team,’ Sam said. ‘There’s a team ten-pin bowling night in a couple of weeks—everything’s on the noticeboard in the staff kitchen, if you want to sign up. Oh, and we’re having a football morning in the park on Saturday. It’s not a serious thing, really just the chance for everyone to kick a ball around, but we do a pot-luck picnic thing afterwards. And, after trying your brownies this morning...’

  Beatrice smiled. ‘Hint taken. OK. I don’t mind kicking a ball about. And I’ll make some more brownies.’

  ‘Excellent. I think you’re going to fit right in,’ Sam said with a smile.

  ‘Josh said the Red Lion’s the place to go, so I’m buying drinks after my shift today,’ Beatrice said. ‘If you can both make it, it’d be lovely to see you.’

  ‘That’s nice of you,’ Hayley said. ‘Thanks. We’ll be there.’

  * * *

  Back in the staff kitchen, as Sam had predicted, everyone wanted to cuddle baby Darcie. And people Beatrice hadn’t yet met patted her on the shoulder, welcomed her to the department, and thanked her for the brownies.

  Daniel Capaldi was conspicuously absent; and Beatrice noticed that he didn’t come to the Red Lion with the rest of the team after their shift. She could understand that. If you were really disappointed at not getting a promotion everyone thought you’d earned, it would be hard to celebrate someone else getting the post instead.

  But there was a strong chance she and Daniel would have to work together in the future, and she needed to be sure that they could do that and put the needs of their patients before any professional rivalry. As the more senior of them, it was up to her to sort it out.

  There were two ways she could deal with this. She could either pretend it wasn’t happening and wait for Daniel to stop resenting her; or she could tackle the problem head on and come to some kind of understanding with him. She’d grown up with their family motto, tenacitas per aspera—strength through adversity—so the second option was the one the rest of the Lindfords would choose.

  Tackling him head on it was.

  The next day, she was in Cubicles and Daniel was in Resus. Just as Sam had done, the previous day, she slipped into Resus at lunchtime. Daniel was on his own, to her relief, and it looked as if he was writing up notes. ‘Dr Capaldi. Just the man I wanted to see,’ she said.

  He gave her a cool look. ‘Something I can help you with, Ms Lindford?’

  ‘Yes. I’m buying you lunch.’

  ‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary.’

  He was trying to fob her off? Well, she wasn’t put off that easily. ‘I rather think it is. You and I need a chat.’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I’m not pulling rank, but I think there’s a problem and we need to sort it out rather than let it grow out of proportion.’

  ‘There isn’t a problem,’ he said.

  ‘Then have lunch with me.’

  He looked reluctant.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to put arsenic in your coffee,’ she said. ‘Apart from anything else, I don’t have the licence to get hold of that grade of poison.’

  He didn’t even crack a smile.

  Taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until his teeth rattl
ed wouldn’t achieve anything other than a temporary relief from frustration. She folded her arms to help her resist the temptation. ‘I could offer you a pair of boxing gloves, if that would make you feel better. Though I should probably make you aware that I could take you in the gym.’

  He blinked. ‘You box?’

  ‘I box,’ she confirmed. Her personal trainer had suggested it, and boxing had been one of the things that had got her on the slow road back from rock bottom. ‘I might be a galumphing five foot ten, but I’m very light on my feet. I can do the whole Muhammed Ali thing. So. Your choice. Boxing gloves or lunch?’

  ‘Lunch. Because I’d never hit a woman.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have any qualms about hitting you in the ring,’ she said.

  Was that a fleeting and grudging glimpse of respect she saw in his face?

  ‘But I think coffee night be more civilised,’ she said.

  He didn’t make polite conversation on the way to the canteen, but neither did she. And although Daniel protested when she insisted on paying for his sandwiches, Beatrice gave him the look she reserved for patients who were drunk and obnoxious on a Saturday night and he backed off.

  ‘Thank you for lunch,’ he muttered when they sat down.

  At least he had manners. Even if he wouldn’t look her in the eye. And that was going to change, too. She’d make him smile at her if it killed her.

  ‘Let’s put our cards on the table. I understand why you don’t like me. I got the job that everyone thought had your name written all over it. Of course you resent me.’

  ‘Not true,’ he said.

  She scoffed. ‘You were the only person who didn’t take a brownie yesterday.’

  ‘Because I don’t like chocolate.’

  That hadn’t occurred to her. But she hadn’t finished with her evidence. ‘And you didn’t come to my welcome drink after your shift.’

  ‘And you think that was because I’m sulking?’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Everyone else thought my name was on that job. That’s the only bit you got right.’

  She frowned. ‘So what’s your take on it?’

  ‘Not that it’s anybody’s business, but I didn’t actually apply for the job.’

  She stared at him. ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ he confirmed. ‘Because I can’t give the department what it needs, right now. I’m a single dad, and my son’s needs come before the job. Always.’

  She blew out a breath. ‘Fair enough. I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Well, you do now.’

  ‘Then I apologise for jumping to conclusions.’

  * * *

  Daniel hadn’t expected her to react quite like that. He’d expected her to go haughty on him, as she had the previous day.

  And he hadn’t exactly been fair to her. He could’ve told her that he wasn’t going to her welcome drinks, and why. Instead, he’d chickened out and just avoided her.

  He needed to put that right. ‘And I’m sorry for letting you think I resent you for taking my job.’

  ‘OK. So we’re saying now that the problem between us isn’t a problem.’

  Oh, there was a problem, all right. His libido was practically sitting up and begging. But he was just going to have to ignore it. ‘There isn’t a problem,’ he lied. ‘Welcome to Muswell Hill.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And you didn’t have to buy me lunch.’

  ‘Call it in lieu of the drink you didn’t have last night,’ she said.

  He inclined his head. ‘Then thank you.’ Polite, he could do.

  ‘So how old is your son?’ she asked.

  ‘Four.’ Was it his imagination, or did she just flinch?

  Imagination, maybe, because then she smiled. ‘It’s a lovely age. My youngest nephew is four.’

  She had a killer smile. If Daniel hadn’t known it was anatomically impossible, he would’ve said that his heart had just done a backflip. But, for Iain’s sake, he couldn’t act on the attraction he felt towards Beatrice Lindford. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into the little boy’s life—someone who might not stick around. Someone who was, to all intents and purposes, his boss. It would be too complicated. Inappropriate. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, not sure quite what to say to her. How to stop this from tipping over into personal stuff he didn’t want to share. Such as why he was a single dad.

  ‘Stating the obvious, but from your accent it sounds as if you’re from Scotland.’

  ‘Glasgow,’ he confirmed.

  ‘With an Italian surname?’

  ‘My great-grandparents were Italian.’ He paused. ‘And you’re posh.’

  ‘Yes. But I’m a girl and I’m the youngest, so I got to choose what I wanted to do.’

  Meaning that her brother—or brothers—had been expected to go into the family business? But asking her would be too personal; and it would also mean she could ask him personal stuff that he didn’t want to answer. He backed off. ‘So you trained as a doctor.’

  ‘Here in London. What about you? Glasgow or here?’

  ‘Here,’ he said. And please don’t let her ask about his son.

  ‘So what made you pick emergency medicine?’ she asked.

  Relief flooded through him. He could talk about work and why he did what he did. It wasn’t quite so personal, so it was easier to deal with. ‘I like the fact that we make a real difference, that we can save people.’ He paused. ‘You?’

  ‘Pretty much the same. Though we can’t save everyone.’

  Again, there was an odd look on her face—as if she was talking about something personal. But he wasn’t going to ask. It was none of his business. Instead, he said, ‘We do our best. That’s all any of us can do. Strive to do our best.’

  ‘True.’

  He finished his coffee. ‘Thank you for lunch. And for the chat.’

  ‘So we’re good?’

  ‘It won’t be a problem working together, if that’s what you mean.’ He’d already heard Josh singing her praises, saying that Beatrice was good with patients and she listened to the rest of the team. That was good. He hated it when senior colleagues went all arrogant. It was never good for the patients.

  ‘I’m glad. We don’t have to be friends,’ she said. ‘As long as we agree that our patients come first.’

  ‘That works for me,’ he said. ‘We’d better get back to the ward.’

  ‘OK.’ She swallowed the last of her own coffee. ‘Let’s go.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE REST OF the week went smoothly; Beatrice still wasn’t rostered in the same part of the department as Daniel during their shifts, but at least he was civil to her if they happened to be in the staff kitchen at the same time.

  On Saturday morning, she headed to the park for the team’s football day out. As Sam had requested, she made some brownies. Remembering that Daniel didn’t like chocolate, she also made flapjacks, as a kind of peace offering. Then again, Daniel might not be there.

  She’d just added her offerings to the picnic table when Daniel turned up with a small boy in tow. Even if she hadn’t known that he had a four-year-old son, she would’ve known that the little boy was Daniel’s because they looked so alike. And she was faintly amused to discover that the little boy had a Glaswegian accent almost as strong as his father’s.

  But what she hadn’t expected was that Daniel would look so gorgeous in a football kit. The tight-fitting T-shirt showed that he had good abs, and his legs were strong and muscular. He looked more like a model than a doctor, and she wasn’t surprised to see how many admiring glances were headed his way.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d be here today,’ Daniel said. ‘Or are you a football fan as well as a boxing fan?’

  She pushed away the thought of getting hot and sweaty in a boxing r
ing with him. That really wasn’t appropriate. ‘Hayley and Sam said everyone turns up and has a huge picnic afterwards. I thought it might be a nice way to get to know the team outside work,’ she said.

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Do you work with my daddy?’ the little boy asked.

  ‘I do,’ Beatrice confirmed.

  He looked at her. ‘You’re really tall for a girl.’

  ‘Iain, don’t be rude,’ Daniel began.

  ‘It’s fine, and he’s right—I am tall.’ She smiled, and crouched down so she was nearer to the little boy’s height. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Hello. I’m Iain.’

  ‘I’m Beatrice.’ She held out her hand for him to shake.

  He shook her hand, but frowned. ‘That’s a strange name.’

  ‘You can call me Bea, for short.’

  He wrinkled his nose. ‘Like a buzzy bee?’

  She couldn’t resist Iain’s charm and chutzpah. ‘Just like that,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Bee. Are you going to play football?’

  ‘No, I’m just going to watch,’ she said.

  ‘I play football. Just like my dad,’ Iain told her proudly, puffing out his chest.

  ‘Then I’ll make sure I cheer really loudly when you score a goal,’ she said.

  Although football really wasn’t her thing, she enjoyed chatting to Hayley on the sidelines, and dutifully clapped and cheered every time a goal was scored.

  Iain was running past her, clearly intent on getting to the ball, when he tripped and fell over. Instinctively, she looked up to see where Daniel was: on the far side of the field.

  Iain was on his knees, crying and shielding his arm.

  What could she do but go over to him until his dad arrived and see if she could sort out the problem?

  ‘You’re lucky we’re all in the emergency department so we know just how to deal with things when people fall over,’ she said. ‘Where does it hurt, Iain?’

  ‘Here.’ He pointed to his elbow.

  It was very obvious to her that he’d twisted his arm when he fell, so the ligament holding the radial bone in place had slipped, letting the bone dislocate. Given that he was so young, it would be easy to manipulate the bone back into place—but she also knew that it would hurt like mad, very briefly.