Louisa Heaton - Their Double Baby Gift

How did he know that? Unless her friends had mentioned it to him... ‘Yes.’

His eyes widened. ‘You’re Dr Bailey?’

She nodded, surprised that he knew her name. ‘Yes. Who are you?’

He didn’t answer right away, and it took him a moment before he held out his hand. ‘Major Matt Galloway. Jen’s husband.’

She was unaware that her mouth had dropped open. But she numbly reached forward and shook his hand anyway.

She’d meant to call. She’d meant to. Only... Life had got in the way and she’d been struggling to cope herself. Life was harder and busier than she’d suspected it would be with a baby, and she was doing everything alone. Jen’s death three days after she’d given birth to Morgan had made her postnatal blues a lot worse and she’d been grieving herself.

Trying to get herself together just to get dressed and out of the house had seemed an insurmountable task—and then there was the fact that she’d never met Jen’s husband. She’d thought it might be awkward if she just turned up at their house on the other side of London. So she’d put it off and put it off, and when finally she’d thought that she really ought to go and offer her condolences and help so much time had passed she’d just felt that it wouldn’t be right.

It had made her feel incredibly guilty, and now the last person she’d expected to run into at work was Jen’s widower.

Had he just dropped off Lily?

She hadn’t even been able to make it to Jen’s funeral on time. She’d misjudged how long it would take her to get ready and out of the house, and when she’d got there the funeral had already started. She’d slipped into the back of the church and huddled in a pew at the back. Then—naturally—Morgan had begun crying and, not wishing to disturb the service, she’d crept back out. The only thing that would settle her daughter was being pushed in her pram, so she’d gone for a walk.

Returning to the church long after the service had finished she had stood looking down at Jen’s grave, tears dripping down her cheeks. Feeling so alone.

She’d thought maybe that Jen would have forgiven her for being late. It was the kind of person she’d been.

But Matt...? She had no idea how he’d feel. All she knew from Jen was that he was a stickler for rules and regulations.

‘Erm...hello.’ She managed a smile, aware now that he had seen her at her worst. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘I work here.’

He did?

‘I’ve taken up Jen’s post. I needed to be working after—’ He stopped talking suddenly, his eyes darkening, and looked away.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I did make it to the funeral. And I tried to stay, but...’

‘But your baby started to cry and you took her outside.’

‘You noticed?’

He nodded, looking at her strangely. ‘I heard.’

‘I tried to make it back, but by the time she’d settled you’d all gone.’

‘That’s okay. I imagine you had your hands full.’

‘Well, I’m sure you did, too. How are things with the baby? It’s Lily, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. They’re difficult. She’s teething. Not sleeping very well.’

Morgan had just started teething too, so Brooke knew the misery of that. ‘It gets easier, they say. Let’s hang on to that.’

He continued to look at her carefully. ‘We should show our faces, seeing as we’re both late.’

She nodded. ‘Yes—yes, you’re right. Don’t want to anger the boss on the first day.’

‘You haven’t angered me.’

Brooke blinked. ‘You’re my boss?’

‘I’m Clinical Lead, yes.’

‘Right...’

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. The department had obviously gone through some changes she didn’t know about. Why hadn’t Kelly let her know? She’d mentioned they’d got some new eye candy in charge, but hadn’t mentioned who he was. Why not?

‘Well, I’m sorry I’m late.’

‘Why don’t you get changed and meet me in my office in ten minutes? There are a few new protocols you need to be aware of, and then I’ll assign you your duties.’

‘Sure.’ She nodded and smiled as he marched off towards his office.

Her new boss.

Jen’s husband.

She looked upwards, as if to heaven, and muttered, ‘You had to throw me one last curveball, huh?’

She shook her head in disbelief and pictured Jen grinning down at her.

Her first patient was a guy in his forties. When she called his name in the waiting room he stood up, one hand supporting the other. His triage card said ‘Query fracture left wrist’.

Matt had assigned her to Minors. She’d gone to the changing room, got into a pair of dark blue scrubs. When she’d gone to put her own clothes into her locker she’d done a double-take, noticing that Jen’s locker was just as she’d left it. No one had cleared it out yet. Seeing it there, with her friend’s name still on it, plastered with pictures of Hollywood heartthrobs, had made her heart miss a beat. In a way she was glad that no one had rushed to empty it. It meant that Jen had been valued. Loved.

Brooke had scooped her long brown hair up into a messy bun and set off to see Matt.

He’d looked every inch an army officer, seated behind his desk with his straight back in his neat office, everything perfectly positioned and aligned. He’d clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and run her through the new burns protocols and triage assessments.

Sitting there, looking at him, she’d wondered if the reason he held himself so formally in check was because he might fall apart if he relaxed. He seemed very stiff and distant now he was working—nothing like his relaxed, friendly, affable wife, who’d thought nothing of draping her arms around the shoulders of friends, who’d positively warmed everyone with her wide smile and closeness.

And then he’d said, ‘When you’ve dealt with each of your patients I’d like you to run your results past me before you discharge anyone.’

Run her results past him?

‘Why?’

‘Because I’ve asked you to.’

‘You don’t trust my judgement? I’ve been a doctor for many years. I know what I’m doing.’

‘But I’ve never worked with you before, and though I’m sure you have a stellar reputation, Dr Bailey, I’d like to make sure that my department is operating at its optimum level.’

So...the sympathetic father persona had disappeared the second he’d clocked on. He was all business, and Brooke had felt slighted that she wasn’t being trusted to treat a patient by herself, but would have to check in with Matt.

‘Fine—Major.’

She escorted her first patient through to a vacant cubicle and got him to sit down whilst she pulled out a new file. ‘So, do you want to tell me what happened?’

‘Nothing happened. That’s why I can’t understand why my wrist hurts so much!’

Brooke frowned. ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning? When did the pain start?’

‘I went to bed last night and my wrist was fine, but in the night I got woken suddenly by this intense pain in it—like lightning, it was. I sat up immediately and rubbed at it, and took some painkillers, but it was ages before I could get back to sleep. When I woke up it still hurt, and I noticed this bruising to the side of it.’

Brooke peered at his wrist. There was some bruising to it—like a dark cloud. Not much, though. ‘Have you had a fall recently?’

‘Not really. I was crouched down loading the washing machine the other day and I lost my balance slightly, put out my hands to stop myself from falling, but that’s all. It wasn’t a fall, as such.’