WHEN they arrived at the church Alison greeted them. It was clear she was trying to keep calm, which wasn’t easy under the circumstances as two of her children were among those missing.
The vicar was there and the fathers of some of the Scouts. When they saw the two doctors there were nods of approval. One of the men said, ‘Let’s hope that we don’t need you, but something is wrong up there.’ And as they piled into three cars that would take them along the route where the trek was to have taken place, nobody seemed inclined to disagree with him.
Steve had been right about it being treacherous. As they drove higher up the hillside, the mist became thicker and in the end they parked the cars and set off on foot.
Some of them had lamps, others torches, and almost everyone had brought their mobile phones, but they were of little use in the terrain on which they found themselves
Steve was gripping Sallie’s hand tightly and he told her, ‘Don’t budge from my side. We mustn’t get separated from each other. I was insane to have agreed to you coming.’
‘You couldn’t have stopped me.’
She could just about see his face in the swirling mist and there was a half-smile on it. ‘No, I don’t suppose I could. It’s like the old days when we did everything together. But if I had a choice I would prefer an evening at the Kestrel.’
The search party was walking in single file so that each of them had the benefit of the light carried by the person behind, as well as their own. Most of them were well acquainted with the moors and the gullies among them, but progress was being hindered by the extreme weather conditions.
As they trudged along the tops there was a grim silence as words like ‘hypothermia’ and ‘extreme-exhaustion’ kept coming to mind. They’d brought flasks of hot drinks with them and everyone had a blanket in their backpack, but they weren’t going to be of any use until they found the missing group.
Every time they came to a steep drop they all flashed their torches down to check that there was no one sheltering or lying at the bottom. Remote barns and out-buildings were searched but there was no sign of a group of bedraggled boys and their leader.
‘The risks wouldn’t be as great on a warm summer night,’ Steve said in a low voice that was for Sallie’s ears only, ‘but it’s November. Without protection you could die of exposure up here. I don’t suppose they would have had a tent with them.’
They found them at last at the bottom of a deep gully between the peaks. When they saw the faint light of lamps and torches up above the Scouts sent up a cheer, and it was the sweetest sound those searching for them had ever heard.
When they’d made their way carefully to the bottom of the drop and been greeted thankfully by the Scoutmaster, he said, ‘We’ve got a lad here with what is almost certainly a broken leg.’ He turned to the worried clergyman. ‘It’s your son, Jeremy, Vicar. He missed his footing and came hurtling over the edge as the light was fading and we were on our way back to the village.
‘We’ve given what first aid we could,’ he went on as they gathered around the injured youth, ‘but we need an ambulance and my phone isn’t working.’
‘I’ve managed to get through on mine,’ Sallie said. ‘As soon as I knew we’d found you, I rang the ambulance services to tell them where we were.’
Steve was crouching beside the vicar’s son and he said, ‘Jeremy is only semi-conscious. There could be a head injury of some sort but in this light it’s impossible to tell.’ When he’d examined the leg he reported, ‘There is a fracture all right, that much I can see. There’s a first-aid kit in my rucksack, Sallie, with some thick crêpe bandages in it. If you’ll strap his legs together, I’ll check the rest of him as best I can.’
Sallie turned to the vicar. ‘I’m going to strap his legs together, Robert, to avoid further damage when they move him. Then all we can do is sit tight until the emergency services arrive.’ She then addressed the Scoutmaster, ‘How long has he been slipping in and out of unconsciousness?’
‘Ever since the fall. He came round just before you found us and then drifted off again.’
Steve turned to Sallie. ‘What do you think?’
‘Either a head injury of some kind or shock,’ she said.
One of the fathers was hovering and he said, ‘We’d like to get our boys back home. They are wet, tired and hungry.’
Sallie looked around at the rest of the bedraggled troop and their anxious fathers and she said, ‘Yes, of course. Take your boys home. They need hot baths and food. We’ll be here with the vicar until the ambulance comes and if you think any of them should be checked over by Steve or myself when we get home, we’ll open the surgery.’
As the fathers and sons climbed up the steep side of the gully onto the level ground above, the Scoutmaster said, ‘I’m staying. I was responsible for their safety. Jeremy was in my care, and if it’s all right with you, Vicar, I’m going with you in the ambulance.’
As Sallie was finishing strapping the boy’s legs together, Steve said, ‘We need someone up on the top to watch out for the ambulance, otherwise they could be searching for us all night in this sort of weather.’
He checked Jeremy’s breathing again, making sure that his tongue hadn’t gone back and was blocking his airway, and she said, ‘I’ll go.’ Picking up a lamp and a torch, she set off.
‘You aren’t going up there on your own. Don’t even think of it!’ Steve exclaimed, without looking up from what he was doing. ‘It’s too dangerous. I don’t want to have to come searching for you, Sallie.’
When he looked up she wasn’t there and he groaned. The mist seemed thicker than ever and all he could hear was her clambering over wet rock and slithering on clay.
‘I should have gone,’ the vicar choked, ‘but I don’t want to leave Jeremy. This is my worst nightmare.’
‘Mine, too,’ the Scoutmaster said wearily and collapsed onto a nearby ledge.
At that moment Jeremy opened his eyes and gave a soft moan. ‘Where am I?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’ Then, with a grimace, he said, ‘My leg hurts.’
‘Thank goodness he’s back with us,’ his father said, and Steve nodded his agreement.
‘It’s a good sign,’ he said. ‘He seems rational enough at the moment and is as warm as we can manage to make him.’
He switched his glance to the mist-covered slope that led to the top of the gully and said, ‘I have to check on my wife.’
Unaware that he’d followed her, Sallie was swinging the lights from side to side frantically when he reached the top. He grabbed her from behind and spun her round angrily.
‘Are you insane?’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘My heart almost stopped when I saw that you’d gone after I’d told you not to. Have you got a death wish or something?’
She smiled. ‘No. But I did almost die of fright when a big sheep came out of the mist right past me. I’m sorry I caused you worry but I was the obvious one to come back up top to keep a lookout for the ambulance. The vicar wouldn’t want to leave his son’s side You were needed to keep an eye on his condition, and the Scoutmaster looked completely exhausted…’ She trailed off. ‘Do I see headlights in the distance?’
‘Yes, you do, but they won’t be here yet. It’s too soon.’
‘Not necessarily,’ she told him. ‘When I made the call I was told that they weren’t too far away and I can hear a siren.’
Steve listened. ‘Yes, so can I. Thank goodness for that! Once they arrive, please come back to where I can see you. This could have turned into a real tragedy if we hadn’t found those boys. I’m going back down now. Jeremy regained consciousness for a few moments and I’m hoping he stays that way. I just wish I had more light to assess his injuries properly. Tell them to position their headlights when they get here so that they shine down as much as possible into the gully.’
Midnight was long gone by the time the two doctors arrived back home, and Hannah was dozing in a chair by the window where she’d been watching out for them.
They’d stopped off at the vicarage to let Robert’s agitated wife, Alison, know that Jeremy was on his way to hospital with a possible head injury. Their other son had arrived home with the rest of the Scouts and their fathers, so she was aware of what had happened but desperate for news. When it had come, she’d set off immediately for the hospital.
Steve had explained to the paramedics that Jeremy was either suffering from severe shock or had suffered a head injury of some sort, which had caused him to lose consciousness.
It hadn’t been the easiest of tasks, stretchering him up from the bottom of the gully in those conditions, but it had been achieved at last, and the fact that the injured leg had been strapped to the other had saved any jarring as they’d carried him upwards. But there was still anxiety because of the way he was drifting in and out of consciousness.
When Steve came back from taking Hannah home, Sallie said, ‘Are you still annoyed with me for going back up top to watch out for the ambulance?’
He was peeling off his wet clothes and easing his feet out of the heavy boots and paused to tell her unsmilingly, ‘I was more concerned than annoyed. It was a nightmare out there, trying to treat the lad under those conditions, and then you disappear.’
It was putting it mildly. The thought of anything happening to her had made him feel sick inside. He supposed that he might have overreacted and was about to discover that, as far as Sallie was concerned, he had.
‘Do you honestly think I would have done anything to make matters worse? The directions I’d given in my phone call had been hazy to say the least, and without some guidance the ambulance might not have found us. It was kind of you to be concerned, but who do you think has been watching over me for the past three years, Steve? Nobody!’
His face had whitened. ‘I do know that. It was my mistake. I was presuming too much. I thought that we were at least friends, and I wouldn’t want to see a friend in danger. But it seems a shame to be bickering over something like this when the vicar and his family are coping with so much at this moment, don’t you think?’
Yes, she did, Sallie thought wretchedly as he went into his room and closed the door. Why couldn’t she have accepted Steve’s concern for her in the spirit it had been meant? Was there an urge inside her to punish him for what he’d done? She hoped not. It wasn’t in her nature, but she was still keeping him at a distance and couldn’t see that changing until her hurt went away.
They heard the next day that it had been severe shock affecting Jeremy the night before. Apart from cuts and bruises there had been no injuries other than the fracture, and he was now stable.
It was his mother who brought news of him. Alison called on her way home from the hospital to bring them up to date on what was happening, and at the same time thanked them for turning out for him.
‘We were only too happy to be of assistance,’ Sallie told her. ‘I felt so sorry for the three of them. For Jeremy having the nasty accident, for his father for finding him in that state and for the poor Scoutmaster, who was most upset that something like that should have happened when he was in his care.’
‘Yes. I know,’ Alison said with a shudder. ‘But I suppose it could have been worse. I’ve never seen the effects of severe shock before and it was frightening. However, he’s recovering so we have much to be thankful for.’
Steve appeared at that moment with Liam in his arms, and when he too had been brought up to date with the news on Jeremy, he said, ‘It was difficult to treat him under those conditions, and I was very much afraid he had a head wound.’
When she was ready to go Alison said, ‘What a pity that this little one will soon be leaving the village. It’s a great place for bringing up children.’
‘We’re delighted to say that Liam won’t be leaving,’ Steve said. ‘My niece and her partner are intending to settle down here.’
‘Really? That’s great news,’ she said, and touched Liam’s cheek. ‘Lucky little boy.’
When she’d gone Sallie went into the kitchen to start the preparations for Sunday lunch, and Steve followed her. ‘I’ll take Liam out for a while if you like,’ he offered. ‘It will give you some time to yourself.’
She swivelled round to face him. Her hasty words of the night before hadn’t been commented on by either of them since they’d met up at breakfast and she couldn’t leave it like that.
‘I’m sorry about last night, Steve,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It was churlish of me to be so ungrateful over your concern. Can you forgive me?’
‘There is nothing to forgive,’ he said flatly. ‘What you said is true. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, so why should you have to be grateful now?’
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she said, ‘If you’ll hang on while I put the joint in the oven, I’ll come with you.’
It was a typical November morning, grey and overcast, but as Steve pushed Liam’s buggy with Sallie beside him they weren’t too aware of the weather. Both had more important things on their minds.
Another difficult moment had passed and they still wanted to be with each other, Sallie was thinking. In Steve’s thoughts was the fast-approaching return of Melanie and her boyfriend, and he was wondering what would be left for Sallie and himself once Liam had gone back to his mother. Would the frail bond between them fracture?
She had only once shown any real feeling towards him and that had been on the morning of Janine’s wedding, but it had been short-lived because of the past rearing its head. Her reaction when she saw the house would be a good guide to what the future held, and it wasn’t going to be long before that happened.
His conversation with Alison about Liam staying in the village must have brought Melanie to Sallie’s mind too as she said, ‘What about somewhere for Melanie to live? We still haven’t sorted it.’
Melanie was due to return during Christmas week and every time Sallie mentioned it Steve assured her that it would all be sorted by the time they arrived.
Christmas was just three and a half weeks away and the house was almost finished. It had been built exactly how Sallie had described her dream house and every time he saw it Steve felt pleasure wash over him. If she would come to live with him in it, there would be no need for her to hold his shirt in her arms, he thought. He would be where he belonged, beside her.
Old Henry had gone to stay with his daughter for Christmas and the weeks leading up to it, as there wasn’t adequate heating in his cottage, which meant that Steve was free to visit the site without being observed after the workmen had finished for the day. The electricity had been connected and each evening he went to check on progress, wandering from room to room behind makeshift curtains.
He wasn’t intending to do anything about furnishings. He knew that, provided all went well, Sallie would want to choose them herself once she’d absorbed the fact that he and she were the mystery owners of the house in Bluebell Lane.
But in the midst of his euphoria he did have moments when panic set in. It made him feel weak at the knees when he thought of what he would do if she said she’d got used to the solitary life and wanted to stay where she was.
He was hoping she would see it as a new beginning. A reunion of minds as well as bodies. It had seemed claustrophobic in the apartment since he’d come back, helping to care for Liam while trying to live normally in a situation that was anything but.
Sallie’s curiosity finally got the better of her one evening when Steve said, as he had on previous occasions, ‘I’m just popping out. I won’t be long.’
‘Where do you go when you dash off the moment we’ve eaten?’ she asked. ‘If it’s to see Philip, why don’t you say so?’
‘I visit Philip during the day, so I have no need to go in the evening unless I’m sent for,’ he told her. ‘I’m involved in a project with some of the men in the village. You’ll find out what it is soon enough.’ And without giving her the chance to question him further, he departed.
Minutes later, as he put his key in the new front door that he hoped Sallie would soon be going in and out of, he hoped he hadn’t given the game away.
The next morning, before he was about to start his calls, one of the teachers from the school appeared. ‘I haven’t come as a patient, Dr Beaumont,’ she said, ‘but as someone who needs to ask a favour of you.’
As he listened to what she had to say, he started smiling. The smile was still there when Sallie saw him, and he said, ‘I’ve just seen one of the teachers from the school and they want me to be Santa on the day of the nativity play. Apparently Henry Crabtree usually does it, but as he’s gone off to his daughter’s and none of the other old folk are fit enough, they’ve asked me.’
‘What did you say?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘I said yes, and I know what you’re thinking. It will make me miserable, being with a lot of other people’s children.’
‘Yes, something like that,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘You know, sometimes I think you’re disappointed that I’m not pining any more,’ he said flatly. ‘I’m all right with Liam, aren’t I, and the children I treat at the surgery? I can’t avoid them because I’ve got none of my own.’ Then his good humour returned. ‘Remind me to practise my Ho, ho, hos.’
As he drove along on his rounds, he saw a sprightly Lizzie Drury moving along the pavement, and she waved. He pulled up beside her and, pointing to her leg, she said, ‘I’ve got the dressing off at last, Dr Beaumont. I don’t have to go to the clinic any more.’
‘That’s great news, Lizzie,’ he said, and continued on his way to visit a newcomer to the village. The story going around was that seventy-year-old Jennifer Maxwell had been an actress until a fall on stage had caused a serious leg injury that had ended her career.
The house she had moved into had belonged to her brother, Lionel, a reclusive bachelor. He had let what had once been a desirable residence fall into disrepair, and now, according to the village grapevine, the drab place was coming to life. Cobwebs were being swept away and refurbishment had begun.
Steve had never met the woman, but knew she’d signed on with the practice when she’d arrived in the village, and he was looking forward to meeting her.
Breathing difficulty had been mentioned when the request for a visit had been made, and when a receptionist had asked if she could manage to get to the surgery she’d said frostily, ‘Definitely not.’ And so there Steve was.
Jennifer did not look a happy woman, he thought when she answered the door. There were pain lines around her mouth and a sour expression on her face, but in spite of her age, or maybe because of it, there was a sort of toned-down elegance about her.
‘I’m Steve Beaumont, your GP,’ he told her, taking note that she was using a stick for support as she stepped back to let him in.
‘Yes. I know. I’ve seen you around the village.’ The voice was more pleasant than the expression, he thought.
‘And what is the problem?’ he asked, above the noise of drilling and hammering in the background.
‘I’ve been coughing up blood and I’m short of breath,’ she explained with bleak brevity.
‘Let’s see what your chest has to tell me,’ he said, producing his stethoscope, ‘if you wouldn’t mind unbuttoning the top two buttons of your blouse.’ The woman nodded stiffly and he proceeded to examine her.
‘You have a chest infection, Jennifer,’ he told her. ‘I’m going to put you on a course of antibiotics. As for the blood that you’re coughing up, I’ll need a sample of sputum brought to the surgery the next time it happens. Then we can send it to be tested.’
Jennifer sighed. ‘There’s been a horrendous amount of dust and grime flying about since I brought the workmen in, and after a few days I developed a hacking cough.’
‘The blood could be from a burst blood vessel in your throat, caused by the severity of the cough,’ he commented. ‘If that proves to be the case, it’s nothing to worry about, but we do need to check it out.’
‘All right,’ she agreed reluctantly. ‘I’ll do what you ask.’
‘Good. By the way, Jennifer, how are you enjoying country life?’ he asked, on the point of leaving.
‘I’m not. I was brought up in this mausoleum. I escaped by going to drama school and after that had some good parts. I was on top of the world, having the time of my life, until I had a fall and shattered my leg. The doctors put it all back together again, but it’s now shorter than the other and there isn’t much call for an actress with a limp.’
‘That was tough luck,’ he said sympathetically. ‘But it doesn’t explain why you’ve come back to your roots, if you don’t like country life.’
Jennifer sighed. ‘With the loss of my career, my earnings disappeared. The insurance people paid out, but it didn’t last for ever. Then my brother left me this place. He’d arranged that there would be enough money to have it repaired, but in his will stipulated that it was only to be used for that purpose. If I didn’t come back to live here, the money was to go to charity, which meant that the house would have become even more derelict than it was already. So, you see, I didn’t have much choice.’
Steve nodded. ‘I get the picture,’ he told her. ‘But surely you can use your talents in another way? Maybe by teaching drama. Or how about forming a drama group here in the village and putting on a show or a play?’
She managed a wintry smile. ‘Is it a regular thing?’
‘Is what a regular thing?’
‘You dishing out therapy at the same time as pills.’
He smiled back at her. ‘It is sometimes. Then again, sometimes I find that I’m the one who needs to be pointed in the right direction.’
‘Yes. My wife is the other partner in the practice.’
‘Children?’
‘No.’
‘Well, they can be a nuisance.’
He didn’t take her up on that. He knew that lots of theatre folk put their career before all else. Even Melanie, who loved her baby, hadn’t been able to resist the pull of the stage.
When he got back to the surgery and told the receptionist who’d tried to save him a visit what the problem had been, she exclaimed, ‘The woman could have come to the surgery with that!’
‘Yes. I know,’ he agreed, ‘but I sense that she’s depressed and the state of that house is enough to depress anyone. But I’ve impressed on her that she has to get here with a sample of sputum as soon as possible, and as the car at the front of the house would indicate that she can still drive, there is no reason for her not to do so.’
He didn’t tell Sallie about his suggestions regarding Jennifer Maxwell’s dramatic talents as he wasn’t sure if the old lady would want to do such things, but the more he thought about it, the more he could see a village pantomime or musical taking shape.
‘Perhaps we should invite her for a meal some time,’ Sallie suggested that evening, when he mentioned his visit to Lionel Maxwell’s old house briefly. ‘She might feel more as if she belongs when she gets to know some of us.’
Steve smiled across at her. After being with the miserable mistress of the grim house on a remote lane leading to the moors, it was good to be back with the one person he wanted to be with.
The next morning one of the practice nurses reported that the sputum sample had been delivered and had gone off to be checked, and that the woman who’d brought it had looked as if she didn’t know how to smile.
There was no denying that Jennifer Maxwell was not a happy woman and with that in mind he mentioned her to the vicar that same day.
Robert Martin was in his forties and whether it be a member of his flock or not, it made no difference to the diligence with which he did his job. If someone was in any kind of need he was there, and when Steve mentioned the lonely, not very mobile woman to him, he immediately said he would call on her and ask if there was any way that he could be of help.
They were an easy, friendly family, Robert, his wife Alison and their two teenage children, and no matter how often the phone rang on parish business, or who appeared on their doorstep, the vicar and his wife were always ready with a listening ear or a helping hand.
When Steve told him that he’d tried to get Jennifer interested in a drama group or something similar, Robert said, ‘I’ll back you up on that. We have teenagers who hang around with nothing to do in the evenings, and as most folk are always eager to get involved in some sort of drama, this lady could fill a gap in their lives if she is agreeable.’
‘That’s just it,’ Steve explained. ‘I don’t think that she wants to be agreeable. She’s already told me she doesn’t like country life so don’t be too disappointed if she shows you the door.’
The vicar laughed, unperturbed. ‘That’s happened to me a few times, I can tell you, but we clergy are thick-skinned. I’ll report back when I’ve bearded the lady in her den.’
When the results on the sputum came back there was no cause for alarm and Steve decided that it must have been as he’d said, a blood vessel that had ruptured due to coughing.
When the receptionist rang Jennifer to give her the good news, the elderly lady asked to speak to him. She told him that the vicar had been to see her, and was there a conspiracy afoot. She just wanted to be left alone, and before he could reply she’d gone off the line.
‘Don’t give up on her,’ Sallie said, when he told her what had happened. ‘Leave it for a while and then try again.’
‘Whatever,’ he agreed absently. They’d just finished eating and he was anxious to pay his nightly visit to the new house.
The nativity play was a huge success. The hall of the village school was packed with parents and grandparents, keen to see their offspring in whatever role they had been given to play.
When the performance was over there was an interval, and Steve went to get dressed for his part in the proceedings, which was to be coffee and mince pies for the adults and presents from Santa for the children.
While he was away Sallie looked around her and her glance rested on a woman sitting in the back row of the school hall in the seat nearest to the door.
She guessed immediately that it was Jennifer Maxwell, from Steve’s description of her. It would seem that the school’s amateur attempt at drama had brought the elderly actress out of her shell, she thought as she moved towards her through the crowd.
‘I’m the other Dr Beaumont,’ she said with a friendly smile. ‘I believe you’ve already met my husband.’
‘Yes, I have,’ she said, without returning the smile. ‘He and the vicar want to integrate me into village life.’
‘I can recommend it,’ Sallie said. ‘I’m so glad that you decided to join us tonight. The folk here are a friendly lot and on these sort of occasions most of those in the audience are connected with one of the children in some way or another.’
‘Yes. So I believe,’ the actress said, without any noticeable softening. ‘He said that you and he hadn’t got any family, but I’ve seen you both out with a baby.’
‘That’s Liam, my husband’s niece’s son. We are looking after him while his mother is working abroad. Our housekeeper, Hannah, is minding him for us tonight.’ And having no wish to discuss that angle of their private affairs any further, she changed the subject by asking, ‘Are you going to join us for mince pies and coffee? Steve is Santa and is looking forward to giving out presents to the children.’
But it seemed as if attending the play was to be the extent of Jennifer’s venture into village life, as she shook her head and said, ‘No, thanks. I have to get back. I’m expecting a phone call.’ And on that note she limped out into the winter night.
Steve never did anything by halves. Santa he had been asked to be, and Santa he was as he took the youngest children onto his knee and listened to their bemused requests for Christmas morning deliveries, and when the older children of the primary school, who were less in awe of him, had their moment, he bent an attentive ear, not forgetting his ‘ho, ho, hos’ at regular intervals.
Sallie found herself smiling as she watched him. The children had no idea that Santa was Dr Beaumont who sounded their chests and took their temperatures when they were poorly. For just this short time he was for them that other focal point of Christmas.
They’d done the baby-in-the-manger bit with the shepherds and wise men, and now their thoughts were on what Santa was going to bring them on Christmas morning. Somehow Sallie didn’t think they would be asking for gold, frankincense or myrrh.
‘I met Jennifer Maxwell tonight,’ Sallie told him when they were back home beside the fire.
‘You mean to say she was at the play?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t believe it! The last time I spoke to her she said she wanted to be left alone. So maybe the vicar and I have got through to her and she’s ready to drop the Greta Garbo thing.’
‘She isn’t the easiest of people to get to know, is she? It was hard work, trying to make her thaw out, and I don’t really feel that she did in the end.’
‘You’ve described her exactly, but I’m sure she’ll come round eventually. The fact that she’s turned up at the only dramatic-type evening we’ve had in ages is a good sign.’
‘I think that she relates to you more than me,’ Sallie said. ‘She wasn’t exactly beaming her approval when she met me. Maybe she thought your wife would have been more spectacular.’ She was laughing when she said it but he didn’t join in.
‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks. It’s whether you still think you’re right for me that matters. Do you? Or have I really blown it?’
She didn’t meet his glance. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You sleep with one of my old shirts in your arms.’
Her face flamed. ‘How do you know that?’
‘You kept crying out in your sleep one night and I went to see if you were all right. I saw it then, and have wondered ever since what could have been the reason for your distress.’
‘I’ve no idea,’ she said shortly. ‘I must have been agonising over something in my dreams.’
She was saved further embarrassment as cries from the bedroom informed them that Liam was awake, and Steve was on his feet immediately. When he brought Liam into the sitting room there were two spots of bright red colour on his cheeks and the tears were flowing fast. He was teething and not liking it.
‘I suggest that one of us gives him something for the pain in his gums, followed by a dry nappy and some gentle cuddling,’ he said, ‘and that the other makes some tea.’ He was smiling again. ‘One sugar for me, Sal.’