Alison Roberts - Twins On Her Doorstep

Sophie was sitting alongside her patient this time. It meant that she could give the hand she was holding a squeeze.

‘I know. It’s hard. So hard…’

Shirley sniffed and nodded. ‘I know you know, dear. That’s why it’s so good to talk to you. You had such a tough time after your Matthew passed away. We were all so worried about you, what with you losing the baby and all…’

Even after five years, the pain was still there, wasn’t it? Not crippling now, though. More like a simple sadness, but one that could still squeeze her heart hard enough to be painful sometimes. At least she’d become an expert in pushing it into a place that she rarely chose to visit.

‘I’m fine now,’ Sophie said gently. ‘I found the answer was to focus on the good things I did still have in my life. Like my family and friends. My work. Being lucky enough to live in such a beautiful place.’ She gave the older woman’s hand another squeeze. ‘You’ve got both your daughters nice and close. And all those gorgeous grandchildren of yours. Are you spending plenty of time with them?’

‘Oh, yes… They’re in and out every day, wanting Granny’s cake, but…but I just haven’t felt up to baking yet.’

‘They’ll be missing those cakes.’ Sophie smiled. ‘Everybody knows that no one can make a better chocolate cake than you can, Shirley. And you’ve got a new grandbaby due to arrive in…ooh…about six weeks, isn’t it? I saw Jenny for her check-up just a couple of days ago.’

‘Bob was so excited about this new baby.’ Shirley’s smile trembled. ‘He was sure it was going to be a boy, finally. And now he’ll never know…’ She blew her nose again. ‘I haven’t even finished the cardigan I started knitting weeks ago. I just can’t seem to focus.’

‘It’s only been a couple of months since you lost Bob,’ Sophie said gently. ‘It takes time to grieve.’ She got up to find her prescription pad. ‘I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. And, if you like, I can refer you to a grief counsellor?’

Shirley shook her head. ‘I feel better just coming to see you, dear.’ She got up from her chair. ‘You understand…’

Sophie went to see her out. That way, she could lock the front door to the clinic and there wouldn’t be any last-minute obstacles to getting home to see how her father was. Hopefully, he would be feeling a lot better after some hot food and having put his feet up for an hour or two. If not, she was going to be laying down the law about getting a thorough physical check-up from a specialist in Truro—the largest hospital in Cornwall. And reducing his hours here, which was probably the best she would be able to manage until they could find a locum.

Her heart sank like a stone when she noticed the unexpected arrival sitting in the waiting area.

A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. A man who was good-looking enough for her gaze to snag for an extra heartbeat of time. Probably the father of the two children sitting beside him, she decided. Small girls who were wearing pink, puffy anoraks and little black ankle boots.

Shirley was fussing with the fastening on her umbrella as she headed to the door so she didn’t even notice the trio in the corner but Sophie gave them a second glance as she passed. There was something compelling about these people.

The man was definitely not a local, unless he’d just moved here, but the children looked vaguely familiar. No. She shook her head as she closed the door behind Shirley and flicked the lock. There were no identical twins in North Cove, she was quite sure about that. They had to be tourists, but she couldn’t turn around and tell them that an appointment was needed for afternoon surgeries at this clinic unless it was an emergency.

After all, there were children involved, and even the brief impression she’d already gained suggested that these little girls were subdued enough to be potentially unwell.

She pasted a smile on her face as she turned back.

‘I’m Dr Bradford,’ she said. ‘How can I help you?’

The man got to his feet. He was tall, Sophie noted, well over six feet, although he looked a little stooped right now. As if he was over-tired. Or sad, maybe. His jaw was shadowed as if he hadn’t shaved for a while and his dark hair looked tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it more than once recently. In the same instant she had the thought, he raised his hand and rubbed at his forehead, exactly the way her father had done earlier and, yes, he completed the action by shoving his fingers through his hair.

Then he nodded.

‘I’m Finn Connelly,’ he told her. ‘I’m…ah…sorry for turning up like this without an appointment.’

The Irish accent confirmed her assumption that he was a tourist.

‘That’s okay,’ Sophie said. She smiled at him, because he certainly looked like he needed a bit of reassurance, and instinct told her that it wasn’t something he normally needed. For some reason, this man was way out of his comfort zone and part of her job was to provide a safe environment. Besides, he did look sad, and that never failed to tug at her heartstrings, but there was more than sympathy happening here. There was a pull that she didn’t understand and it was putting her slightly out of her own comfort zone.

‘We’re always available for emergencies,’ she added.

Shifting her gaze to the seats behind the stranger, she smiled even more warmly at the children.

‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘What are your names?’

The girls stared at her but said nothing. They looked more than a little frightened and Sophie felt a beat of alarm. What, exactly, was going on here? Children who were scared of going to see a doctor would normally be clinging to their parents, not sitting there like two little mop-haired statues.

That hair…

Clouds of tangled blonde ringlets. Impossible to comb without causing pain. Sophie knew what it was like to have hair like that.

The sudden chill that ran down her spine almost made her shiver visibly. She swallowed carefully.

‘So who’s sick?’ she asked. ‘Or has there been an accident?’

‘Nobody’s sick,’ the man said quietly. ‘I…um…is there somewhere we could have a quiet word?’ The movement of his head, along with the expression in a pair of very dark eyes, was easy to interpret. This Finn Connelly wanted to talk to her somewhere the children couldn’t overhear.

‘There’s no one else here,’ Sophie said apologetically. ‘I can’t leave the children unattended in the waiting room.’

She wasn’t sure she wanted to go somewhere private with this man, either. Again, her instinct was giving her a clear message, and this time it was warning her that she wasn’t going to like what she might hear. Had these children been abused in some way? Were they in danger?

She actually jumped when a door behind her opened.

‘I forgot my bag.’ Judy hurried towards the reception desk and bent to retrieve it. ‘I was so worried about Dad that I just left it behind.’ She straightened up and then froze when she saw that Sophie was talking to someone.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

‘It’s okay.’ Sophie straightened her back. Fate was giving her a push here and she had a moral obligation to comply. ‘Could you spare a minute, Mum?’

‘Of course.’ Judy came out from behind the counter.

‘Could you keep an eye on these children for a minute? Their dad wants to talk to me.’

‘Oh…’ The different note in her mother’s voice advertised that she was instantly aware that something a little odd was happening.

‘I’m not their father,’ Finn said. ‘I’m their uncle. This is Ellie. And that’s Emma.’

Judy had stepped closer. She was staring at the little girls and Sophie watched in horror as the colour drained from her mother’s face. She moved fast as she saw her start to sway on her feet, but it was Finn who caught Judy before she crumpled completely.