Meredith Webber - Christmas at Jimmie's Children's Unit - Bachelor of the Baby Ward / Fairytale on the Children's Ward

‘And you don’t have children?’

The elevator had arrived but she didn’t move, looking at him again, the defiance in her eyes echoed in the slight tilt of her chin.

‘No, but that’s not to say I won’t ever have them.’

Did she feel she’d been too adamant that she added quickly, ‘And a lot of the people involved in the fund-raising were my friends.’

They rode back up to the ground floor, the questions he’d have liked to ask—was she married, did her husband work at the hospital—were too personal when they’d just met. There was something about her—pale skin, delicate features and a slim dancer’s body, straight-backed, head held high—that reminded him of the delicate porcelain figurines his mother collected, so he kept sneaking looks at her.

At least, he thought that’s why he kept looking at her. It had to be; he didn’t look at women any other way these days—well, not often, and definitely not at women who were colleagues.

Yet he was intrigued enough to ask the questions anyway.

‘You seem positive about the children in your future. Are you already married to their father? Engaged?’

They were walking through a fairly crowded foyer so someone bumped into her when she stopped abruptly and he had to put out his hand to grab her shoulder and steady her. But the people around them didn’t seem to bother her as she studied him for a moment, then gave a rueful smile, cheeks pink again.

‘Not married, not even engaged, but all I’ve wanted to be since I was eleven is a grandmother, and, being a doctor, I do understand I’ll have to be a mother first.’

She’d made a joke of it, but underneath her light-hearted confession, Angus sensed a deeper emotion and wondered if this was a stock answer she gave to fend off further questions. It must have some basis in truth, so what had happened when she was eleven?

And why was he wondering?

Then she added, ‘Maybe,’ and the word had such sad undertones he wanted to hug her—a comforting hug, nothing more, but not something he made a habit of doing with colleagues.

It was strange that the man’s questions had Kate coming out with something she’d never told a soul, not even her best friend. And while it was true it had been an ambition since childhood, she’d blurted it out it because the pang she always felt when the question of children arose had surprised her today with its intensity.

Had he fallen for the grandmother excuse? Who would? A diversion—that’s what she needed.

‘There’s a coffee shop here that does good coffee and great friands, a sort of pastry. Let’s fortify ourselves for the shopping trip.’

She waved her hand in the direction of the coffee shop, then realised half the hospital could be taking a break there. Walking in with a man who’d immediately be established in the hospital’s top-ten most handsome could give rise to the kind of gossip she hated.

‘No, a better idea would be to show you the best little eating place around here. The breakfast crowd will have gone and the morning coffee crowd not arrived. It’s a bit of a walk but through a nice park. Come on.’

What was she doing? It had to be more than strangeness in her stomach from mouldy bread that had her confessing her grandmother obsession to the man one minute, then asking him to Scoozi for coffee the next.

Someone in the hospital coffee shop she didn’t want to see? Angus wondered, but he followed her out of the hospital, across a road and into the big park that stretched away for what seemed like miles.

‘I’ve a hospital house down that road,’ he said, pointing across the intersection where solid, old, two- and three-storeyed houses lined a tree-shaded street. ‘My house is opposite a park. Is this the same park?’

His guide turned towards him, a frown on her face—a face which, unlike his mother’s porcelain figurines, showed every emotion.

Right now it was a picture of dismayed disbelief.

‘You’re living in one of the hospital houses?’

Unable to see why it should worry her, he nodded.

‘I gather it’s the one Maggie and Phil left,’ he explained. ‘It’s actually two flats which is perfect for me as Juanita, my housekeeper-nanny, likes her own accommodation. She says she’s not my wife or mother and is entitled to her own space.’

He can’t be living in Maggie and Phil’s place! The wailing words raced through Kate’s brain, but she knew someone was—she’d seen a removal van there yesterday and wondered who could afford to pay for one on a Sunday.

She could move! It didn’t matter that she’d decided she had to face her ghosts. She could do that next year, or the year after. She’d had good tenants in the house before, and the renovations she wanted to do could wait.

Except that she’d already stripped the wallpaper off most of the living room walls—

‘Are you all right?’

The last word, with its rolled r only made her mad, panicky reaction worse, but she steeled herself to calm down. It was the man’s accent, that was all, the deep Scottish voice would make anyone shiver.

That and the shadows in his dark eyes.

‘I was thinking of coincidences,’ she said, aware of the lameness of this excuse. ‘I live next door.’

‘Next door towards the hospital?’ His eyebrows rose as he asked the question, and there was a puzzled look on his face, much like the one he’d worn when he’d asked her about her marital status—puzzled and a bit amused at the same time, though once again his eyes weren’t smiling.

‘Next door the other way,’ she corrected, then before he could make some polite remark about the state of her overgrown garden or the junk from the living room she’d been depositing in the front yard, she added, ‘It was my family home but it’s been rented out for the past few years. I’m doing a bit of renovating now that I’ve moved back in.’

She didn’t add, With the ghosts , although that was how it felt—just herself and the lonely ghosts in a house made for families, a house that should ring with children’s laughter. Her mind flashed back to that day when she was eleven, staying with her friend Beth and visiting Beth’s grandmother’s house for the seemingly old lady’s sixtieth birthday. That house had been filled with laughter while the children, all related in some way—connected and secure in the connections—had dashed around like restless puppies. This is a family, Kate had realised. This is what I want!

She shut the door on that memory, and fast-forwarded to years later and her adamant refusal to have a termination when Brian had suggested it. The baby would have been her family— would have been. She continued on her way. By now they were halfway across the corner of the park, and a short detour to the right took them to the road opposite Scoozi.

‘That’s the café,’ she said, pointing to a place that had seen so much drama played out among hospital personnel, the walls were probably impregnated with emotion.

In order to avoid any further asinine confessions, once they had coffee and carrot cake, which happened to be the cake of the day, in front of them, Kate introduced work topics, asking him why TGAs had become something of a specialty with him.

Serious, dark brown eyes studied her across the table and for a moment she thought he might not answer her question, but apparently he was only mustering his thoughts—not coming out with the first thing that came into his head, as she was wont to do!

‘My first operation—the first I did as lead surgeon in a team—was a TGA and things went wrong. The coronary arteries were twisted around the heart, one of them going through the heart walls, and although we got there in the end, it was enough to make me realise that TGAs weren’t the piece of cake I’d been considering them.’