To the Doctor: A Daughter

CHAPTER FOUR

‘US’ DIDN’T include Donna. Us was Nate, a white-haired gentleman who looked like he was nearing eighty and one pink crib complete with baby.

Gemma walked in the kitchen door and stopped short. She wasn’t sure what shocked her most-the sight of Nate with his baby by his side or the sight of the kitchen.

It was an amazing kitchen.

It matched her bedroom, she thought, stunned by its size alone. It was the kitchen of a great house.

The fireplace took up almost a whole wall and looked as if once it had been an open fire complete with spits. The irons were still set in the wall, but now a vast old Aga took up a quarter of the fireplace, and a modern range stood beside it.

The elderly man was making toast. Tall, thin and weathered with age, his white hair held just a trace of the same burnt red as Nate’s. He was casually dressed in a soft cashmere pullover and worn carpet slippers. The fire door of the stove was open and he was holding a toasting fork to the flames.

He looked a lot like Nate…

She was trying hard not to look at Nate until she had her bearings.

What else? The table was in proportion to the kitchen-huge. It was scrubbed oak and big enough to seat a dozen with room to spare. There were four squashy armchairs and a settee to match. A faded rug was thrown over a worn, cobbled floor. On the edge of the rug an ancient collie was dozing in front of the fire. Past them all were big doors with inset windows, leading to a wide veranda. From there a path meandered through the garden to the river beyond.

It looked…wonderful.

And Nate? Finally she let herself focus on Nate. He was slicing bread, supervising everything. The crib was beside him, and Mia was fast asleep.

The sight was so unexpected that it rendered her speechless. The whole scene was unbelievably good.

As she paused in the doorway all eyes swung to her-well, the old man’s, Nate’s and the dog’s anyhow. As far as Gemma could see, Mia wasn’t the least bit interested, but she was the only one who wasn’t inspecting her from the toes up, making her blush with their blatant assessment.

Nate was the first to speak.

‘Good morning, sleepyhead. Toast?’ Inspection over, he greeted her with his devastating smile-and she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Compared to the spartan hospital apartment she was used to, this was heaven.

Then the old man spoke, in a voice that was a husky echo of Nate’s. ‘I’d accept if I were you,’ he advised her. His smile matched Nate’s, intensifying her impression that these two were related. ‘It’s good.’ He flipped two pieces of golden toast onto the plate beside him. ‘Toasting is the skill I’m most proud of. After fishing and medicine.’ He smiled again and the likeness to Nate was even greater. They had to be kin. ‘You must be Gemma. Dr Campbell. Pardon me if I don’t get up but this toasting is a very serious business.’

It hurt him to rise. Gemma could see that. There were two walking sticks propped against the old man’s chair which told their own story.

‘Don’t let me disturb you,’ she said quickly. ‘And, yes, I’d love some toast.’ She cast an uncertain glance at Nate and then she let herself look at the baby. Nate’s baby. ‘You’ve brought Mia in here.’

‘Very observant.’ Nate smiled again, a smile that had the capacity to knock her sideways. His smile was teasing-enticing-heart-warming. ‘There were rumours of Golden Staph finding its way quick smart from Sydney so we whisked her out of harm’s way.’

He was laughing at her. The rat. ‘You didn’t need to.’

‘No.’ His smile faded. ‘I didn’t need to.’ He looked at her for a long minute, taking in the stained clothes and the weariness still on her face. ‘I shouldn’t have woken you. You should have slept longer.’

‘I couldn’t.’

‘No.’ He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but finally decided against it. ‘Gemma, this is Graham Ethan-my Uncle Graham. Graham, meet Gemma. Dr Campbell. Oh, and this is Rufus, the dog, but he won’t rise for an introduction. Not unless there’s toast involved.’

Graham would have risen then but Gemma was next to him, taking the old man’s hand before he could move. ‘I’m really pleased to meet you.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you, too.’ Graham’s old eyes examined her face and found what he was searching for. ‘You’re not like your sister.’ It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.

‘No.’ Gemma’s chin tilted a little at that. She wasn’t. ‘My sister was beautiful.’

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he said ambiguously. ‘But you are a doctor?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’ve landed a daughter on our Nathan.’

‘I didn’t land a baby on your Nathan,’ she said dryly. ‘Dr Ethan landed a baby on himself. I had absolutely nothing to do with it.’

‘And you don’t want anything to do with her now?’

‘No.’ But she cast an uncertain glance at the crib and the old doctor’s eyes caught her glance and understood. He nodded but had the sense to move on.

‘Nate says you want to work here.’

Her glance was to Nate this time. ‘I don’t see that Nate’s giving me a choice but I need to think about it first.’

‘You’re an anaesthetist?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why are you an anaesthetist?’ Nate asked her. He pulled a chair out for her and waited until she sat. The feeling of being railroaded intensified. She was being seated and breakfasted whether she wanted it or not.

That was ridiculous. Of course she wanted breakfast.

‘Um…’

‘Get yourself around this toast first,’ the old doctor said. ‘Nate, leave the girl alone. Make her some eggs and bacon. She looks like she hasn’t had a decent meal for months.’

‘After Tony’s effort last night…’

‘One meal does not a banquet make.’ Graham snorted. ‘Bacon, Nate. Now.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Nate grinned and started cooking.

But the question returned. Why are you an anaesthetist?

She let herself think about it while she ate, aware that they were courteously letting her be to enjoy her breakfast. Yet the question still hung.

Why was she an anaesthetist?

Because of Alan?

The pressure from Alan was something she couldn’t explain in a million years, she thought, and it wasn’t something they’d want to know. They were simply checking her out-making sure of her. They really wanted another doctor, but not if she’d turn out to be a disaster like Fiona.

At least she could reassure them about that.

‘If you’re asking whether I’m dependable, I am,’ she told them, and they nodded in unison. They really were very alike.

‘Nate told me that,’ Graham said, and Gemma cast Nate a startled glance. What else had he told Graham?

‘Whatever he’s said, I don’t want to stay here.’ But her tone was unsure.

‘Why are you an anaesthetist?’ Nate asked again, and she paused, bit into her toast and forced herself to stop panicking-stop feeling like she was being unduly pressured-and think.

‘I’m good at it.’

‘Is that the only reason?’

‘No.’

‘Well?’

Leaving Alan out of it-why else? Why?

‘I…I run a pain clinic,’ she said hesitantly. ‘At Sydney Central. It seemed an important thing to do.’ And it was true. The pain clinic gave her an enormous amount of satisfaction. Maybe not as much as family medicine could, but it kept Alan happy. Or…maybe happy was too strong a word. It kept him off her back.

And it was a response that pleased the two men questioning her. ‘I knew it.’ Nate’s voice rose on a note of triumph. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he demanded of Graham. He turned back to Gemma. ‘So you didn’t go into anaesthetics to make money?’

Anger surged-because his question had just enough truth in it to sting. But she wasn’t admitting that. ‘Why should you think I’m in it for the money? I’m good at what I do-and I enjoy it.’

‘I’ll bet you are.’

‘And I’ve always been interested in pain relief.’ She hesitated but then continued. ‘My grandpa… He died of bone metastases and his pain control was less than perfect. I thought…well, after he died I had to make a choice about specialising and I thought maybe I could make a difference.’ And as soon as she’d decided on anaesthetics there had been Alan-and no possibility of backing out.

But Nate had moved on. ‘We could set up a pain clinic here.’ His tone was triumphant. ‘Gemma, this district…we feed to Blairglen but the district itself is huge. If you were to set up a pain clinic here you’d have half a practice without even advertising. If you’re prepared to do home visits the local hospice nurses would fall on your neck.’

‘But I don’t want-’

‘Don’t want what? Do you really like living in the city?’ he demanded, and his question almost took her breath away.

Did she like the city? She’d never thought about it.

She’d been raised in Sydney’s inner suburbs. By the time she’d had a choice about leaving, her grandfather had been ill and depending on her. And then there had been Fiona… And Alan. And Cady.

‘You’ve never given it a shot.’ Nate’s tone was still exultant. ‘Hell, Gemma, you can do as much good here as in the city. More. A competent anaesthetist who’s interested in pain relief… You can’t leave. You can’t.’

‘She can,’ Graham said dryly without raising his voice. ‘Leave the girl be, Nate. You’re pushing too hard.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are. Make Gemma some coffee.’

‘But-’

‘Slow down, Nate.’ The doctor’s old eyes were warm and understanding. ‘Gemma, don’t look like that. Like we’re holding you prisoner and throwing away the key. We’re not.’

‘But-’

‘But we’re asking you to give us a chance.’ His smile was exactly the same as his nephew’s. Magnetic in its warmth. ‘Give this place a try. Nate says you’re without a job and your little nephew needs a chance to recover.’

‘He needs the city,’ she said, distressed. ‘A paediatrician…’

‘If you’ll trust us then we can help there,’ the old doctor said gently, and she frowned.

‘You?’

‘I may be seventy-six but I’m not useless and neither is Nate.’ He saw her uncertainty and went on without giving her a chance to voice her doubts. ‘I’m a diabetic myself and I have been for fifty years. There’s nothing like suffering a complaint yourself for focusing the mind on current research-and as my health has deteriorated Nate’s knowledge has grown. There’s not a lot about current diabetic practice that Nate doesn’t know, and we have friends who specialise in paediatric diabetes who are on the end of the phone. We know enough to call them when we need them.’

Gemma didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings but…

‘We’ll have Jacob Burt call you,’ Nate told her.

‘Jacob…’ She knew Jacob. He was one of Sydney Central’s leading paediatricians and she knew he was an internationally acknowledged leader in paediatric diabetic management. It was Jacob she’d been thinking of when she’d said she had to get Cady back to Sydney.

‘Graham’s travelled up to Sydney once a fortnight for thirty years and now I’ve taken over,’ Nate told her, seeing her doubts. ‘We’ve been part of Jacob’s research team. It’s been damnably difficult with Graham ill-finding the time-but it’s the one link with the outside medical world we’ve fought to retain. But you don’t need to take our word for it. I rang Jacob last night to check that I was doing the right thing, and if you like I’ll have Jacob call you to confirm it.’

This was the truth. She met Nate’s look and she knew without a doubt that Jacob would confirm every word that she’d just heard.

There were diabetic experts right here. That meant that for a short while-just while she got her bearings, or at least until Alan interfered-she could stay here.

She could be a part of this.

She looked around her-at the two men watching her with grave courtesy. At the baby sleeping steadily in her crib. At the flickering firelight and the snoozing dog.

They were asking her to be part of it.

As Fiona had been.

Fiona had been a fool.

‘Stay for a couple of weeks,’ Nate said softly. ‘Give us a trial.’

Damn, he was smiling that smile again. The smile that had had Fiona deciding she wanted his baby. The smile that could break a woman’s heart just by-

No! She wasn’t going down that road. She had more sense.

She could try it out. Just for two weeks. Alan would surely grant her that. And then she could walk away.

They were both watching her. Waiting.

And suddenly it was easy.

‘For a couple of weeks? Yes, please,’ she said, and as she smiled back at the pair of them she thought, What on earth have I done?

Graham left them soon after.

‘There’s a spot of fishing calling,’ he told them, and smiled. ‘As long as you don’t need me?’

‘We don’t need you,’ Nate said and as the old man left, the ancient dog at his heels, Nate smiled at Gemma like a conspirator.

‘You don’t know how good it is to tell him that,’ he told her. ‘Just knowing he doesn’t have to carry his mobile phone, he’ll be able to spend the morning on the river with the knowledge that if there’s an emergency I have you. I won’t have to call him back.’

So they were depending on her already. It felt…strange. Like fine gossamer threads of netting were gently settling on her shoulders. Holding her whether she willed it or not.

And then Mrs McCurdle, the woman who ‘did’ for them, bustled into the kitchen. She enveloped Mia in her overpowering maternal bosom. Nate gave Gemma a sideways grin and ushered her out, giving her the sensation that they were making their escape. Maybe it wasn’t just Gemma who felt like she was being trapped. Mrs McCurdle, burbling on about the doctor’s new wee baby, obviously made Nate feel exactly the same.

‘She’s a good soul,’ Nate told her as they made their way through to the hospital. ‘But a little bit of her goes a long way.’

‘I can see that.’

But his thoughts had moved onto medicine. ‘Let’s see to your nephew. To Cady.’

She didn’t have to ring Jacob. Nate was every bit as good as his word. Not only did he have the skills but he also had the technology to back him up.

Cady was just waking when they reached him but he wasn’t the least bit scared. The experience of the crèche had left him unafraid of new people, and Nate had a team of skilful and kindly nurses who were just great with Cady.

Nate was great himself. He wheeled the equipment he needed into the ward and set about testing Cady’s blood-sugar level, explaining what he was doing to Cady every step of the way. So much so that Cady hardly noticed the pinprick on his finger as Nate took blood. Nate had him press the buttons on the machine and he was so interested in the technology he didn’t even think of being frightened.

And they had what they needed within minutes. ‘His sugar levels have been high for at least three months,’ Nate told Gemma, showing her the readout. ‘Look. The buildup on his blood cells is running over nine.’

And she hadn’t noticed…

‘It’s hard to notice changes when you see them every day.’ Nate looked at her face and guessed at once what she was feeling. ‘You’re not to blame yourself.’

‘How can I help it? If I’d seen-’

‘There’s no long-term damage done. We have his sugar down to twelve already.’ He looked at Cady who was studying the slip of test paper that held his blood and looking at the screen showing his results. His bright little face said he was already trying to figure out how things worked. ‘It’s my guess that he’ll be giving himself injections and testing himself in no time.’

‘He’s only four.’

But Nate was still watching Cady and he shook his head. ‘Maybe he is only four but this is Cady’s medical condition, Gemma,’ he said gently. ‘His. And the sooner he owns it the better. If you take responsibility for it then Cady doesn’t need to and there’ll be rebellion in the future. Sure, he’s small, but just as soon as he can conquer a skill-like giving himself an injection or deciding that a food’s bad for him-then you let him do the deciding. It’s the only way for him to cope with his future. To feel like he’s in control.’

Gemma thought back to her sister. To the dreadful fights between mother and daughter from the moment of Fiona’s diagnosis, over and over again. The shouting matches. ‘You can’t eat that,’ her mother had decreed, terrified at what had been happening to her favourite daughter. ‘What’s your blood sugar?’

Fiona had loathed it, nearly always eating exactly what she shouldn’t have.

Maybe if she’d been treated differently…

Who could tell? All that Gemma knew was that Nate’s gentle words made sense. For now she’d go with him.

‘Fine.’

‘Now, let’s work on an insulin regime,’ Nate told her, moving right on. ‘Cady’s growing stronger by the minute.’ The night on the saline drip had worked wonders.

‘You think he’ll be fine?’

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t he be?’

Cady might be improving but he was still a very tired little boy. He was awake for barely half an hour before his eyes were closing again and Gemma tucked him back into bed. Which left her free.

But Nate wasn’t free. Out the hospital window she could see people arriving at the clinic to see him. He had a full day’s consulting before him.

‘Let me help,’ she urged.

He shook his head. ‘Not today.’

‘I can.’

‘I’m very sure you can.’ His tone was gentle-full of caring-and it had the capacity to unsettle her in a way she didn’t fully understand. ‘But you’re still suffering from the shock of last night and I don’t want you. Tomorrow I’ll set you to work but today is declared a Gemma-holiday.’

A Gemma-holiday. She’d never heard of such a thing. There had been so much on her shoulders lately she hadn’t known which way to turn. And sleep… She’d slept more last night than she’d slept for a month and here was this man urging her to have more.

‘I don’t need-’

‘You do need.’ Nate took her shoulders and propelled her to the glass doors opening onto the veranda. ‘There’s a hammock down by the river which is my very favourite spot in the whole world. Go find it, Dr Campbell. And use it.’

‘But-’

‘No buts. You get yourself rested and recovered. Now.’ He gave her a gentle push toward the edge of the veranda-and then walked inside and closed the door firmly behind her.

She was free to wander as she willed.

The sensation was so novel Gemma could hardly take it in. How long had it been since she’d had some time to herself? Years.

Dazed, she wandered down to the river, and there was Nate’s hammock. It was slung between two trees right at the water’s edge. The sun was dappling through the leaves of the huge eucalypts and the water was rippling between boulders, making a lullaby all by itself. The setting was just perfect. She could see why it was Nate’s favourite place.

She could see Nate here.

But he wasn’t here. He was working. As she should be working. She always worked.

But what had Nate said? It’s a Gemma-holiday.

‘I shouldn’t,’ she told herself. But she did. The sun was warm on her face, the river was rippling and gurgling, there were kookaburras chortling in the gums overhead…

Cady was sleeping. Cady was recovering. Mia was being well cared for by the redoubtable Mrs McCurdle.

God was in his heaven. All was right with her world. For now.

She climbed into the hammock and looked up through the eucalypts at the sky above. And slept.

‘Will it be my lot in life, ad infinitum, to wake you up?’

She opened her eyes. Nate’s face was six inches away from hers and he was laughing at her. ‘Hey, sleepyhead, it’s almost dinnertime.’

Dinnertime.

Dinnertime! She sat up with such a jolt that the hammock veered crazily sideways. She would have fallen but Nate reached out and caught her shoulders, steadying her. And when she was steady he didn’t pull his hands away.

‘Are you OK?’

Was she OK? She thought about it. She was warm and sleepy and incredibly comfortable-and Nate was holding her as if he cared. Was she OK? Yes. A whole lot more than OK.

‘I’m fine.’ She pulled back a little but he didn’t release her.

‘We were starting to get worried.’

‘Worried?’ She sounded dazed. It was the feel of his hands, she thought. It made her feel…well, dazed.

‘I checked at lunchtime and found you sleeping, but I couldn’t believe you’d keep sleeping this long. If your car wasn’t still parked outside I would have thought you’d bolted back to Sydney.’

She looked at him, astonished. ‘Are you kidding? How could I have left Cady?’

‘No.’ His eyes were still inches from hers. Questioning her with no need for words. ‘No, I guess you wouldn’t do that.’

‘I wouldn’t.’

Nate’s gaze was still probing. ‘And yet you’d leave Mia?’

‘Mia is your baby. Not mine.’ She pulled away from him then and sat up. The hammock swung wildly again and she had to shove her feet down fast to hold herself steady. She missed his hands. They were good hands, she thought inconsequentially. Big. Warm and strong and capable. Doctor’s hands.

She was being ridiculous.

And he was watching her as if he could read her mind.

‘I shouldn’t have gone to sleep,’ she said quickly-too quickly-and he smiled, with the indulgence of an adult giving a child a treat.

‘Of course you should. Your nephew has slept the day away and I’ve a feeling his aunt needed the sleep even more. If Cady hadn’t collapsed I think you would have collapsed in his stead. How long have you been burning the candle at both ends?’

She thought about it. ‘I guess… There has been so much to do. Since Fiona died. And Mia isn’t a restful baby-as you’ll no doubt find out.’

‘She looks pretty restful to me.’

‘Yeah. And how long have you stayed with her?’

‘Hours and hours.’ He gave her a look of pure unsullied virtue which made her smile.

‘Yeah, right.’

But he was moving on. ‘Do you want a hospital tour before dinner? We have time.’

‘Um…’ She looked down at her rumpled self. ‘I guess. Though I’m not exactly looking my professional best.’

‘You look pretty good to me.’

There it was again. That jolt. It was a stab of warmth that had her understanding exactly why Fiona had chosen him to be the father of her child.

‘Yeah, right.’ She didn’t meet his eyes-just scuffed her trainers on the grass and looked up toward the hospital. ‘OK. Lead the way.’ He looked every inch the doctor and she looked every inch the poor relation.

So what else was new?

Fiona had made her feel like an also-ran from the moment of her birth. She should be used to it by now.

‘It’s a casual sort of hospital,’ he told her, and there it was again-the reading of minds that she was starting to dread. ‘No specialists with bow-ties need apply. The people here are farmers and they don’t look for sophistication. They look for caring-and it seems to me that caring’s what you have in spades.’

Of course. Caring was what she was principally good at.

Caring…

It went on and on for ever.

Once on her tour of inspection, however, Gemma forgot her concerns about her appearance. She forgot everything except the hospital, and the hospital was great.

The doctor who’d built it all those years ago had suffered delusions of grandeur and had built a hospital that could have accommodated three times the number of beds they had.

‘We’re accredited for twenty patients,’ Nate told her as she exclaimed at the size of the place. ‘And no one can say we’re crowded.’

They certainly weren’t. The wards were double or single and they were roomy, comfortably furnished and ever so slightly over the top.

‘There were chandeliers here when my uncle arrived,’ Nate told her. ‘He got rid of them because of the dust-and because the local farmers thought they’d died and gone to heaven. They’d have a minor operation and wake up to this-and damn near arrest on the spot.’

‘I can imagine.’ Gemma looked up at the high pressed ceilings with their ornate cornices and beautifully moulded plasterwork and shook her head in disbelief. ‘All you need is a few Michelangelo friezes and you could be in the Sistine Chapel.’

‘Maybe we could have a working bee and paint a few.’ Nate was grinning down at her. Life was a constant joke to him, Gemma thought with just a trace of anger. Then his smile caught her and she had to smile back. Sort of.

‘A working bee to paint the ceilings…’ She smiled. ‘What a great idea. Can I help? I paint a really mean elephant. From the rear.’

‘I’ll bet you do.’

And they were grinning at each other like fools and it took Mrs Draper-an elderly lady with gout-harrumphing from her bed to haul them back to order.

Over the top or not, the hospital was run as a well-oiled machine. The staff greeted Gemma with interest, chatting to Nate with real friendliness. There was nothing of the distance between nurses and doctors she saw in the big city hospitals.

And the patients were the same. Nate greeted them with ease and introduced them to Gemma in turn. They chatted, they checked Gemma out with a curiosity she saw would instantly turn to gossip the moment they left, and in the end she was left feeling as if the place consisted of one big family.

‘That’s what country practice is all about,’ Nate told her as she exclaimed over the sensation. ‘Do you want to give us a go?’

And at the end of the tour she felt her doubts dissipating. This could work. It could.

‘Yes, please.’

‘That’s great.’ His smile was so intimate it warmed parts of her she hadn’t begun to realise were cold.

‘Fantastic,’ he told her. ‘Let’s go to dinner.’

Dinner was lovely. Sitting in the huge kitchen, listening to Graham and Nate gossip over the events of the day, Gemma felt more and more at home. Mrs McCurdle had left them the king of all casseroles. Mia was gurgling sleepily in her cot, the dog was asleep again before the fire and it felt like family. And family was something Gemma hadn’t felt for a very long time.

‘Gemma?’

Nate was talking to her, she realised, and she had to blink to haul herself back to reality. She’d been floating in a fuzzy little dream where country practice, Cady and Mia-and Nate-were all mixed up in a rosy future.

She looked at him blankly. ‘Sorry?’

‘Penny for your thoughts.’

She blinked at that. ‘You don’t want to hear them.’

‘I bet I do.’

She smiled but she shook her head. ‘No way.’ If he couldn’t guess, she wasn’t telling him. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

He hesitated and she could see what he was thinking that maybe now wasn’t the time to ask. He wanted a favour, she decided, and he was wondering whether she was up to it.

But she’d slept all day and she felt terrific.

‘Go on. Ask. I can always refuse.’

His brows rose at that and she thought, Great-he’s not the only one who can read minds. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Nate Ethan.

She’d disconcerted him and it showed. When he spoke again his voice had lost some of its certainty. ‘I was wondering…’

‘You were wondering what?’

And out it came. ‘OK. I was wondering whether you’d cover me tonight.’

She thought about it. ‘Medically?’

‘Certainly medically.’ He smiled that endearing smile that would obtain anything he wanted. ‘Graham’s involved with the local repertory society-he’s playing the Major-General in their production of The Pirates of Penzance and it’s their dress rehearsal tonight.’

‘The Major-General?’ Gemma twinkled across the table at Graham. How wonderful. She could really see him in the role, waving his walking sticks at the pirates and the world in general and thumbing his nose at his disabilities. ‘That’s fantastic.’ She turned back to Nate. ‘So don’t tell me. You need to go, too, because you’re the Pirate King.’

‘No.’

Her nose wrinkled in disappointment. ‘That’s a pity.’ She had a great vision of him bare-chested and piratical, complete with cutlass and sword. The thought was enough to make her blink. ‘You’d make a wonderful pirate.’

He didn’t know how to take that one. ‘Thanks very much.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ she said expansively. The food, the warmth and the overall sense of security were getting to her, making her feel fantastic. ‘But if you’re not the pirate…’

‘I’m not in the play.’

‘Oh?’

‘Both of us can’t be,’ he said-as if she was a bit simple not to have thought it through. ‘Until now Graham and I haven’t been able to go out together. There’s always been the need to cover.’

‘But now?’

‘Now there’s you.’

Right. She was here. And she might as well work. Why not? ‘And you want to go out?’

‘If I can.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘Whoops. There’s Donna now.’

Donna. Right. Donna-the-girlfriend.

‘Donna and I were supposed to spend yesterday evening at the Jazzfest,’ Nate told her. ‘She was a bit upset when I was called away.’

‘I imagine she was.’ She tried not to mind. Why should she mind? Donna and Nate were nothing to her.

Were they?

‘Anyway, there’s a party on tonight for a couple of our friends who are getting married this weekend.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Starting about now.’

He hadn’t gone to answer the door and there was no need. Donna had let herself in. She stood in the doorway looking fabulous in a beige silk pantsuit that must have set her back half a year’s salary. She looked gorgeous!

And Gemma felt just like she always did when someone like this was around. Someone like Donna. Someone like Fiona. She felt frumpy and frazzled and like she was middle-aged already. At the ripe old age of twenty-eight.

‘Are you ready, love? Have you asked her?’ Donna didn’t bother to greet either Graham or Gemma, and Graham shoved his plate away with unnecessary force. As if he was suddenly faced with something distasteful.

‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to be going. I’ll be home at about eleven, Gemma.’

Which left Nate and Donna and Gemma. And one sleeping baby.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Nate asked politely. ‘There shouldn’t be any problems. We’ve gone through every patient’s history so there shouldn’t be any surprises, but if you’re worried give me a call.’ He motioned to his cellphone. ‘I wear my phone on my belt.’

‘I don’t mind.’ She was trying hard not to.

‘That’s great.’ Donna held out her hand to Nate and he rose and took it. ‘Lovely. Let’s go, sweetheart, before she changes her mind.’

She… She, the cat’s mother?

Gemma told herself she shouldn’t mind the way Donna was referring to her. Being a doormat was her role in life. But there was something stirring-the same thing that had stirred when the doctors had placed the newborn Mia in her arms. There was love and commitment-but there was also anger and resolution, and that resolution had to be brought to the fore right now.

‘You’ve forgotten something,’ she said flatly as they headed out the door.

‘Sorry?’ Nate turned, expecting her to point to the car keys or something trivial. ‘What?’

‘Your daughter.’

‘My…’ He stared at the crib. ‘Mia.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But you can look after her.’ It was a statement-not a question-and her anger built.

‘I told you, Nate. I won’t.’

‘But-’

‘But last night the hospital staff looked after her and today Mrs McCurdle looked after her. And tonight I’m not. I told you, Nate-she’s your daughter. Not mine.’