‘SO...WHAT MADE you say yes in the end?’
‘I rang my dad back after I’d caught up on some sleep. He’d had a really busy day and looked beyond tired, but he was so excited about my visit and meeting you and...’ Tilly leaned her head back, shifting her gaze to look out of the small, oval aircraft window.
And she couldn’t possibly tell Harry about how it had made her feel as her father had talked about him being there with her. How appealing the idea of spending more time in his company had become. The internal tussle that the memory of the heat his touch had created had kept her awake long after that phone call because, deep down, Tilly realised it might actually be possible to pull off that deception for a couple of days and there might be a reason she wanted to do it that had nothing to do with making her father happy.
A purely selfish reason. Because she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to know if it was possible to feel that heat again.
Did she want to feel it?
Yes, of course she did. It was clearly something as desirable as finding shelter when you’d been out in the cold for far too long.
But no. She didn’t want to feel it because it was terrifying. It couldn’t be trusted. It could lead to getting very, very badly burnt. Even if it was only a pretence, Tilly was, quite literally, playing with fire.
Not that Harry had the slightest clue what was flashing through her mind in that instant, and that had been the real reason that Tilly had ended up saying yes. Because she knew she could control how she felt enough for no one else to guess the truth. Even her father.
Or, thank goodness, Harry.
Keeping her feelings hidden was a skill she’d perfected over many years. She could turn on the ‘Ice Queen’ persona with no more than a mental flick of a switch.
She could feel Harry’s gaze on the back of her head. He was still waiting for her to finish explaining what had led to him sitting in the seat beside her, wasn’t he?
‘And...’ Tilly let her breath out as she found something plausible to say. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to tell him you couldn’t come after all and disappoint him again.’
‘Again?’ Harry sounded astonished. ‘I would have thought having a daughter like you would be something he’s very proud of.’
Oh... Tilly let herself absorb what sounded like a compliment. An unexpected one, given that they hadn’t yet started their role play for her father’s benefit.
‘My dad’s dream was that I would become a doctor and then take over his family practice.’
‘And it’s not your dream?’
‘It was when I was a kid. Before I knew any better.’ She threw Harry a wry smile. ‘Along with the dream of getting married and raising half a dozen kids in the old family homestead.’
‘Not going to happen, then?’ Harry suggested.
‘Not in this lifetime. But I suspect Dad’s been waiting every year for the announcement that I’m coming home for good for at least the last five or six years. That’s probably more than enough disappointment, wouldn’t you say?’
‘So...where is it you used to live? I’ve forgotten.’
‘The practice is in Craig’s Gully, which is about halfway between Arrowtown and Cutler’s Creek. Family homestead’s out of town a bit on a remnant of the original sheep station.’
‘And that’s not somewhere you’d want to live again?’
Tilly stopped herself rolling her eyes. ‘Did you grow up in a small country town? The kind where absolutely everybody knows absolutely everybody else’s business?’
‘I grew up in Dublin. Big city.’ Harry lifted an eyebrow. ‘You should probably know that about your Irish boyfriend.’
Tilly stifled a sigh. He was right. How on earth had she convinced herself that this was a good idea? She might be an expert in hiding her feelings but she had to admit she was beginning to feel very uncharacteristically nervous. She hadn’t really thought this through properly, had she?
She cleared her throat. ‘So...do you still have family there? Your dad? Any siblings?’
‘No.’
There was something in that single quiet word that made Tilly catch her breath as she remembered that glimpse of a part of Harry she hadn’t realised existed. Someone who had had a mother he’d cared enough about to have wished he could make her happy before she died. She would have caught Harry’s gaze as well, but he was looking down at his hands.
‘That’s why I left Ireland, to be fair. There was nothing left to keep me there.’
Something in Harry’s tone suggested that he wouldn’t be keen on answering any more personal questions and that was fine by Tilly. If they both had things they’d rather keep private it would be easier to keep a safe distance.
Harry leaned in front of Tilly, so that he could see out of the window properly, and he let his breath out in a silent whistle seconds later.
‘There’s nothing but mountains down there. You wouldn’t want to be having a crash landing, would you?’
Tilly laughed. ‘Is now the time to tell you that Queenstown is one of more challenging airports in the world to land at because of all the surrounding mountains?’
As if to back up her statement, the plane tilted as it began a turn. There would be a few more of them before they landed but Tilly was used to the complicated approach. She hoped they would be coming in over the lake and then looping to land in the opposite direction, which gave the best view of Queenstown and this stunning part of the country. She might have no intention of coming back here to live but this was her home. Part of her DNA.
Weirdly, she was starting to feel excited by the idea of showing it off to Harry. It shouldn’t matter at all but she wanted him to love it as much as she did.
Harry Doyle had done a few impulsive things in his time.
Okay, more than a few, but it only dawned on him as he heard Tilly laugh that he might have bitten off a bit more than he could comfortably chew this time—when it was far too late to even think of changing his mind.
Despite the engine noise, the sound of Tilly’s laughter was hanging in the air between them and, from what Harry could see through the window, it seemed as if they might be on track to fly straight into a mountain that looked disconcertingly close to the aircraft. Thank goodness the pilot was starting another turn but there were some patchy lumps of cloud that were dense enough to cut visibility to nothing as they continued their descent and Harry could feel a knot of tension forming in his gut.
Maybe it was better not to watch. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn’t as if worrying about the safety of this flight path was going to change anything.
It would also be a complete waste of time to wonder if he should have backed out of this impulsive offer to go home with Tilly for Christmas when he’d had the chance. Because he’d never really had that chance in the first place, had he?
Not when Tilly had told him why she’d lied to her father. When he’d known exactly how she must have felt when she’d got that call to tell her that he was potentially very ill. Maybe she’d got the news before they’d been able to diagnose a TIA and she might have thought he was being rushed to hospital with a stroke that could have been fatal. Listening to her had been a bit of a shock, in fact, because it had taken him straight back to when he’d got the news about his mother and how terrible that journey had been to try and get back to her in time.
How devastating it had been to fail.
He’d also caught a glimpse of a completely different person beneath that cool, reserved exterior that was the only side he’d ever seen of Dr Matilda Dawson. Someone who could get angry—passionate, even—when she was trying to protect a person she cared about. Someone who had lied to her father about having a significant relationship in her life because she knew it would make him happy. Was it simply that her father would want to know her future was secure or had Jim Dawson been worried that his daughter was lonely in her current life?
Was she lonely?
Not that that was any of his business either, but the idea that Tilly was vulnerable beneath that icy shell would have made it difficult to back out. That slightly shocking sense of connection he’d felt listening to her fear that she might have caused her father any worry on his deathbed had made it completely impossible.
And Harry hadn’t been kidding when he told her he was an expert actor. How could he not be when he’d honed that skill as a child, learning not only how to make friends and entertain his peers by being the class clown with every new school he attended but to hide his own emotions to avoid being bullied and...yeah...to hide the fear, even from himself, that came from being lonely.
It might have been in his imagination but it felt as if the connection that had come from nowhere was on both sides. A very different kind of connection to the one they’d created earlier yesterday by dealing with a professional crisis together.
And it had been fun to give her that demonstration of his talents, hadn’t it?
He hadn’t really expected Tilly to say yes when she’d phoned him last night, but he hadn’t had the time or inclination to unpick the reason why there seemed to be a solid barrier to backing away from that offer. Besides, it was only for a day or two and...well...it was Christmas, wasn’t it? A time of peace and kindness to all.
But Harry had never heard Tilly laugh before and he found he was hanging onto the echo of that sound. Because he liked it.
He liked it a lot.
The touch on his arm made his eyes fly open again.
‘Look...’ Tilly was still smiling. ‘You’re missing something special.’
She wasn’t wrong. The view from the window was spectacular. Below the clouds now, the plane was banking steeply. He could see a wall of mountains. A river. Sheep that seemed close enough to count and barren hilltops that felt near enough for the wingtips to brush. Harry could see the vast blue stretch of water that was still enough to be reflecting the surrounding peaks as they sank towards a runway at the end of the lake.
Harry was soaking it in, his head close to Tilly’s as they shared the window. He didn’t turn his head but he could sense that she was still smiling. And he thought he could hear another soft echo of her laughter.
That was something unexpectedly special too, wasn’t it?
‘He’s not here.’ Tilly’s gaze raked over Queenstown Airport’s small arrivals area.
‘We might be a bit earlier than expected. He’s not to know that we only had carry-on luggage.’
‘More likely that he’s been caught up in some kind of emergency. We might be waiting for a while.’
An announcement came through the loudspeaker system as she finished speaking.
‘Dr Matilda Dawson, please report to the main information desk.’
Tilly threw an ‘I told you so’ glance at Harry. ‘Come on. We’d better go and find out what’s going on.’
The message waiting at the desk was that Dr Jim Dawson was in the emergency department of Queenstown Hospital.
‘Did he say how long he might be?’ Tilly queried.
‘No, sorry. But the message came through a couple of hours ago, so maybe it won’t be too much longer?’
‘Let me buy you lunch while we’re waiting,’ Harry suggested. ‘It looked like quite a nice café we just walked past.’
‘The hospital’s very close to the airport. Let’s wander over and see what’s happening. A couple of hours is a long time to be waiting to transfer a patient.’ Now that she was standing on home ground, waiting to start the grand deception, that nervousness was becoming more pronounced and her father’s absence was only making it worse. What else might be lying in wait to provide unexpected challenges that could instantly expose the deception?
The heat of the midday sun hit them as they walked out of the air-conditioned airport and Tilly wished she hadn’t worn her jeans.
‘I might take you down to the river this afternoon,’ she told Harry. ‘We’ll need a swim if it stays this warm. Did you bring your togs?’
‘My what?’
‘Togs.’ Tilly turned her head to catch Harry’s expression. Did he not understand New Zealand slang? ‘A bathing costume? Swim-shorts? Budgie smugglers?’
Harry made a slightly strangled sound and Tilly realised that she might have misinterpreted his expression. Maybe it was the idea of being semi-clothed with someone who was pretty much a total stranger that had startled him. Her throwaway suggestion had suddenly become a big deal.
A big, awkward deal that was definitely a new challenge. This was way worse than not knowing that the man who was supposed to be her boyfriend had grown up in Dublin. This was about not even being comfortable in each other’s company.
Except that she’d forgotten about Harry’s acting skills. And perhaps he’d seen a flash of something like panic in her face that the plan was going to fall over before it could even begin. Because he was grinning now. He was back in control.
‘Didn’t think of bringing my togs,’ he said lightly. ‘I might have to go skinny-dipping.’
Oh, help...
Any relief that she’d only need to follow Harry’s lead in this pretence to make it work faded as Tilly felt her cheeks heating up faster than could be attributed purely to the strength of the direct sunshine they were walking in. If the thought of Harry Doyle swimming naked could make her this flustered, could even Harry’s acting skills convince her father that they were more than simply colleagues? He’d see straight through this farce the moment he clapped eyes on them, wouldn’t he?
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Tilly found her father in a very unexpected place within the emergency department of the district hospital. And in a very unexpected condition. One that made it unlikely that he would notice anything odd about his daughter’s relationship with her boyfriend.
‘I’m as high as a kite, love,’ he told his daughter. ‘Needed a bit of jungle juice while they got my bones back into the right place.’ He beamed at Harry. ‘Gidday, mate. Sorry I wasn’t at the airport to meet you.’
‘Not a problem, Dr Dawson.’ Harry eyed the heavy-duty moon boot on the older man’s lower leg and foot. ‘Looks like you’ve been in the wars.’
‘Call me Jim, son. You’re practically part of the family.’
‘Dad...’ Tilly’s tone was a warning. ‘Don’t go starting any rumours. Or scaring Harry off.’
But, again, Harry was laughing. He draped his arm around Tilly’s shoulders. ‘I don’t scare that easily,’ he told Jim. ‘Or I wouldn’t be here at all, would I?’
Jim was nodding sagely. ‘We’d better do what we’re told. Tilly’s the boss.’
Both men laughed as if sharing a private joke and Tilly found herself scowling as she shrugged off the weight of Harry’s arm. ‘What happened, exactly?’ she demanded.
‘Your dad fell off a ladder.’ The nurse who came into the room made a tutting sound. ‘He should know better at his age, but there you go...’
‘You’re making me sound decrepit, Liz,’ Jim complained. ‘I’m not that old.’
‘You’re over seventy,’ Tilly reminded her father. ‘What on earth were you doing up a ladder, anyway?’
‘Putting up the Christmas lights. And those Santa legs that stick out of the chimney. The ones that made you laugh so much when you were a little girl?’
Tilly shook her head. ‘I’m not five years old now, Dad. What’s the damage?’
‘Fracture dislocation of the ankle,’ the nurse said. ‘He wanted to avoid surgery. The fracture’s not displaced and the dislocation seems to have been successfully reduced, but it’ll need careful monitoring for the next few days. We were going to admit him to keep him out of trouble.’
‘No need.’ Jim Dawson was shaking his head firmly. ‘Why would I need to stay in hospital when I’ve got two doctors to look after me in my own home?’
Liz gave Tilly a long-suffering glance. ‘Would you believe he drove himself in here?’
Tilly closed her eyes. ‘I would.’
‘The truck’s automatic,’ Jim Dawson said. ‘It was only my left foot that wasn’t working.’
‘His car’s still parked in the ambulance bay,’ Liz said. ‘But there is a bed here if you think it’s in his best interests to stay.’
It might be in her own best interests to have her father safely tucked up in a hospital bed for the next day or two because it would make this game with Harry so much easier, but it was already very clear that Jim Dawson was not about to give in without a fight. He was already starting to climb off the bed.
‘There’s no way I’m going to miss having a proper Christmas with my daughter,’ he announced. ‘Life’s too short not to make the most of this kind of precious time together.’
Tilly closed her eyes for a heartbeat. The reminder that life could, indeed, be shorter than expected was precisely why she’d started this in the first place.
‘And this is her boyfriend, Liz.’ Jim’s tone was a mix of pride and delight. ‘He’s an Irish lad.’
‘So I noticed.’
Tilly opened her eyes in time to see Harry smile at the middle-aged nurse, who smiled back without hesitation. She stifled a sigh. Dr Harry Doyle could charm the birds out of the trees if he wanted to, couldn’t he? But there was a silver lining in the cloud of her father’s unfortunate accident in that it would provide a distraction that could excuse anything that might not fit with the glow of the happy couple she and Harry were supposed to be. Her nervousness was starting to evaporate now that introductions had been taken care of and Harry seemed perfectly at ease.
‘Stay there for a tick, Jim.’ Harry stepped forward, his arm out to prevent an attempt to stand unaided. ‘You don’t want to be putting any weight on that foot.’ He turned to his new friend. ‘Lizzie, would you possibly have a wheelchair we could borrow?’
It wasn’t only a collapsible wheelchair that was made available to one of the district’s longest serving general practitioners. Everybody wanted to contribute. Pillows were provided to cushion the leg on the raised footrest. Elbow crutches appeared and medications, including some potent painkillers, were dispensed, along with a warning from the consultant.
‘I’m well aware you’re qualified enough to be teaching me a thing or two, Tilly,’ he said, ‘but I remember patching you up more than once when you fell off your pony and that doesn’t seem that long ago. Plus, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t tell you to bring him straight back in if you notice any changes, like increased pain or swelling.’
Tilly nodded. ‘Compartment syndrome will be at the top of my list for possible complications. Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping a very close watch.’
‘And don’t let him put any weight whatsoever on that foot until we’ve seen him again.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Tilly gave her father a stern glance. ‘Did you hear that, Dad? If you don’t behave you’ll be back in here like a shot.’
Harry was holding the handles on the back of the wheelchair. He leaned down to speak in a stage whisper. ‘Tilly’s the boss, remember? We both have to do what we’re told.’
‘I’ve made an outpatient appointment for Boxing Day for you, Jim.’ The consultant lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s only three days away. You can behave that long, can’t you?’
Tilly looked at the way her father was smiling as he nodded. She had her doubts about just how well he was going to behave. Then she lifted her gaze to catch Harry’s and...yeah...she had her doubts about him too.
But that smile...
It was doing odd things to her. Like making her very thankful he was here, now that her nervousness was almost gone. Like making her feel he was on her side and that she wasn’t dealing with this unexpected personal event alone. A feeling that was enough to create a very strange melting sensation somewhere deep in her gut that took a firm mental shove to dismiss.
Harry’s being here was only because he’d agreed to take part in a performance that was intended to give her father a Christmas to remember. And, although it felt as if the wheels were already falling off any plans she might have had for the next couple of days, it was far too late to back out of this by telling her father the truth. She only had to think about that look on his face when he’d told Harry he was practically part of the family and the proud note in his voice when he’d told Liz that Harry was her boyfriend to know how much it would hurt him to find out it wasn’t true. The physical pain he was in at the moment was quite enough to be a shadow on any Christmas celebrations without her throwing another major blow on top of it.
Tilly knew what she had to do. For the sake of everybody involved in this pretence.
‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ she said.