Kate Hardy - A Forever Family - Their Christmas Delivery

‘So how long have you lived here?’ he asked, trying to get his thoughts back to something much more anodyne and much, much safer.

‘Eighteen months. You moved here last summer, didn’t you?’ she replied.

‘Yes. It’s convenient for the hospital, just a fifteen-minute walk.’

‘It’s about that to school, too,’ she said. ‘Just in the other direction.’

He remembered that she taught maths. ‘Did you always want to teach?’

‘I didn’t want to be an accountant, an engineer or an actuary, so teaching was my best bet for working with maths—and actually it’s really rewarding when the kids have been struggling with something and it suddenly clicks for them.’ She smiled. ‘Did you always want to be a doctor?’

‘It was pretty much expected of me—Dad’s a surgeon, Mum’s a lawyer, my brother Stuart’s an astrophysicist and my sisters are both lecturers.’ He shrugged. ‘One teaches history at Oxford and the other’s in London at the LSE.’

‘A family of high achievers, then.’

Yes. And he hadn’t quite lived up to their expectations. He’d suggested becoming a graphic designer and going to art college instead of studying for his A levels, and the resulting row had left him very aware that he’d been expected to follow in his parents’ and siblings’ footsteps. In the end he’d settled on medicine; at least there’d been a little bit of drawing involved. And he liked his job. He liked being able to make a difference to people’s lives. And he could still sketch if he wanted to.

When he had the time.

Which wasn’t often.

Pushing the thought away, he asked, ‘Have you heard anything from the police?’

‘Not yet. Though Jane the social worker came round with supplies this afternoon.’

‘So I notice. That Moses basket looks a little more comfy than a bunch of newspaper and a cardboard box.’ His smile faded. ‘That poor girl. I hope she’s all right.’

‘Me, too. And looking after a baby is a lot harder than I expected,’ Amy admitted. ‘Now I know what they mean about being careful what you wish for.’

He stared at her in surprise. ‘You wanted a baby?’

She looked shocked, as if she hadn’t meant to admit that, then glanced away. ‘It didn’t work out.’

That explained some of her wariness this morning. And it was pretty obvious to him that the baby situation not working out was connected with her being single. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.’

‘I know. It’s OK.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing anyone can do to change it, so you make the best of the situation, don’t you?’

‘I guess.’ It was what he’d been doing since Kelly had left him. They’d sold their house and he’d bought this flat; it was nearer to work and had no memories to haunt him with their might-have-beens. ‘In the circumstances, looking after Hope must be pretty tough for you.’

‘It’s probably been good for me,’ she said. ‘And it’s kind of helping me to move on.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’ve been a bit of a cow and neglected my friends who were pregnant at the time or had small children.’

He liked the fact that she wasn’t blaming anyone else for her actions. ‘That’s understandable if you’d only just found out that option was closed to you. You’re human.’

‘I guess.’

More than human. What he’d seen so far of Amy Howes told him that she was genuinely nice. ‘And you’re not a cow. If you were, you would’ve just told the police and the social worker to sort out the baby between them and pushed everyone out of your flat,’ he pointed out. ‘So did you ring any of your friends with small children to get some advice?’

‘No. I don’t want them to think I’m just using them. But I’m going to call them all in the first week of the New Year,’ she said, ‘and apologise to them properly. Then maybe I can be the honorary auntie they all wanted me to be in the first place and I was too—well, hurting too much to do it back then.’

‘That’s good,’ Josh said. He wondered if helping to look after Hope would help him move on, too. Right now, it didn’t feel like it; and if Amy had moved here eighteen months ago, that suggested she’d had a year longer to get used to her new circumstances than he had. Maybe his head would be sorted out by this time next year, then.

He almost told Amy about Kelly and the baby; but, then again, he didn’t want her to pity him, so he knew it would be safer to change the subject. ‘What did the social worker have to say?’

‘She gave me a very quick crash course in looking after a baby. She said if they cry it means they’re hungry, they need a fresh nappy or they just want a cuddle, though I can’t actually tell the difference between any of the different cries, yet,’ Amy said dryly. ‘Jane also told me to write down whenever Hope has milk and how much she takes, and her nap times, so I can work out what her routine is.’

‘Sounds good. How’s Hope doing so far?’

‘She likes a lot of cuddles and she definitely likes you talking to her. Hang on.’ She went over to the sideboard and took a notebook from the top, then handed it to him. ‘Here. You can see for yourself.’

He looked through the neat columns of handwriting. ‘I have to admit, it doesn’t mean that much to me,’ he said.

‘Tsk, and you an uncle of three,’ she teased.

‘One’s in Scotland and two are in Oxford,’ he explained. ‘I don’t see them as much as I should.’ It was another failing to chalk up to his list; and he felt guilty about it.

‘Hey, you’re a doctor. You don’t get a lot of spare time,’ she reminded him.

‘I know, but I ought to make more of an effort.’

‘It’s not always easy. I don’t see much of my brother.’

‘He’s in Canada, thousands of miles away,’ Josh pointed out. ‘And I bet you video-call him.’

She nodded.

‘Well, then.’ Amy was clearly a good sister. Just as Josh wasn’t a particularly good brother. When was the last time he’d talked to Stuart, Miranda or Rosemary? He’d used his shifts as an excuse to avoid them.

‘I guess,’ she said, looking awkward. ‘Can I offer you some pudding? It’s nothing exciting, just ice cream.’

‘Ice cream is the best pudding in the universe,’ he said. ‘Provided it’s chocolate.’

‘Oh, please,’ she said, looking pained. ‘Coffee. Every single time.’

He wasn’t a fan of coffee ice cream. But he wasn’t going to argue with someone who’d been kind enough to make him dinner. ‘Coffee’s fine,’ he fibbed. ‘And I’ll wash up.’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘You cooked.’

‘But you were at work all day.’

He coughed. ‘And you’ve spent hours on your own looking after a baby—that’s hard work, even if you’re used to it.’ Then he flinched, realising what he’d said and how it sounded. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.’

‘It’s OK,’ she said softly. ‘I know you didn’t mean it like that.’

But the sadness was back in her eyes. Part of him really wanted to give her a hug.

Though that might not be such a good idea. Not when he still felt that pull towards her. He needed to start thinking of her as an extra sister or something. A sister-in-law. Someone off limits. ‘Let’s share the washing up,’ he said instead.

Though being in a small space with her felt even more intimate than eating at her bistro table.

‘So what do you usually do on Christmas Eve?’ he asked, trying to make small talk.

‘Last year, I had my parents staying—and I guess I was busy convincing them that I was absolutely fine and settled here.’

‘Were you really absolutely fine?’ he asked quietly. Back then she’d been here for six months—exactly the same position that he was in now.