CHAPTER ONE
MATT SUTHERLAND was lost. The feeling had become increasingly familiar to him over the last few years and he did what he always did. Set his emotions aside, decided on a course of action and pressed forward. In this particular instance, the strategy didn’t seem to be working and he was in danger of being late for his breakfast meeting.
The wide, cream-painted corridors of the hospital still looked as uniform as they had two weeks ago. He increased his pace to catch up with two women up ahead, walking companionably together, both loaded down with bags, coats and NHS standard issue manila folders. They had to be on the staff. Matt caught up with them, brushing the sleeve of the closest with his fingers, and she turned.
‘Excuse me.’ He spoke before he had taken a moment to look at her. ‘I’m looking for Cardiology.’ He stopped, suddenly aware of a pair of wide grey eyes looking up at him. Candid eyes, which looked directly and unashamedly at his face, making his lips tingle slightly as if he had only just remembered that they existed.
‘You’re on the wrong wing—this is yellow.’ The other woman spoke up, pulling Matt’s attention away. ‘You need blue—the two wings have the same layout and Cardiology’s in this location, only on blue wing. Go right to the end of this corridor, through the swing doors, turn left, then keep going until you get to Reception and follow the signs.’
‘Thanks.’ He turned back to the grey eyes of her companion. A distant, almost unrecognisable former self would have stopped and chatted, undaunted by any imagined consequence of charming her name out of her. Even now, a perverse, insistent voice at the back of his head made him try to goad her into speaking. ‘So it’s two parallel universes, then. Blue and yellow.’
She nodded. Her face was framed with dark curls and her half-smile struck him as intriguing rather than disinterested. A long-forgotten thrill ignited in his gut, and Matt reminded himself sternly that there was somewhere else he needed to be.
‘Okay, thanks.’ He’d got a reaction of sorts and found himself grinning in response. He cut his losses and hurried away, the cold gloom of a chilly December morning forgotten for the moment.
Turning, as if he wanted to check the direction, he saw the women behind him. They had stopped outside one of the entranceways in the corridor, their bags at their feet, and were facing each other, their hands forming words and phrases as they silently laughed together.
Nice one, Matt. Her gaze, so intent on his lips, had simply been so that she could see what he was saying. Regret tugged at a part of his consciousness that he thought he had left behind for ever and he turned on his heel, making for the reception area that he had walked through five minutes ago.
As soon as the stranger’s back was turned, Marcie Taylor turned to her companion, a broad grin on her face. The sign she made with her hand was not for Beth’s benefit, but so the man walking away from them could not hear her comment. Nice!
Beth turned to watch him hurry away, his dark coat open and swirling around his legs, a gash of red at his neck from a bright woollen scarf. She twisted back to face Marcie before he had a chance to turn and catch her staring.
‘Do you know who he is?’ Marcie was still signing.
Beth shook her head. ‘ID tags and a suit. He must be pretty senior. The new head of cardiology maybe?’
‘Must be. They say we were lucky to get him. Some hotshot surgeon from one of the London Centres of Excellence.’ Marcie slipped back into speech now that the man was through the swing doors and safely out of earshot. ‘Quite a catch all round in my opinion.’
Beth felt her colour rise and gestured a ‘so-so’ with her hand, her fingers trembling slightly at the audacity of the understatement. ‘Nice eyes.’
‘And the rest,’ Marcie retorted. ‘If it’d been me on the end of that smile he gave you, I’d be on the phone right now, telling James that it was all over.’
‘You’d do no such thing!’
‘Okay, so I’m all talk. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, though.’ Marcie’s grin turned calculating. ‘If he’s new in town he probably won’t know anyone. Do you think I should ask him to our Christmas party? If you’re passing Cardiology, you could pop in and deliver the invitation. Just a nice, friendly welcome, eh?’
‘Why would I do that? It’s your party.’ Beth assumed a look of injured innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a child. Anyone with a pulse would have noticed that smile.
Marcie signed her frustration. ‘Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with parties. You get to know people. Remember dating?’
Beth made a face, turning the corners of her mouth down. ‘I remember your party last year. If that’s what dating entails, I think I’ll pass.’
‘Ah, Pete. The man who put the x into excruciating. Anyone who thinks that my Christmas party is the right place for business networking and not slow-dancing with his fiancée…’ Marcie stopped and bit her lip. ‘I should have taken him out and shot him.’
A mental picture of Marcie, in a fabulous dress and killer heels, marching Pete out into the night with a shotgun came to Beth’s rescue and she grinned. ‘Would have saved him the trouble of working up that list of reasons for dumping me, anyway.’
‘There was only one reason, and that one stank. Along with his timing.’
‘At least he gave me ten days to work out what my New Year’s resolutions were going to be. And in case you’re wondering, they’re going to be the same for next year. Stand on my own two feet and forget about dating for good.’ A stranger’s smile was no reason to abandon the two mantras that had stood her in such good stead for the last year.
‘Just because Pete turned out to be a complete toad, doesn’t mean that there aren’t any nice guys out there.’ Marcie’s eyes softened. ‘James, for instance.’
‘James is married. In case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Well, he wasn’t when I met him.’
Beth chuckled. ‘And you rectified that omission as soon as humanly possible.’ She jerked her thumb in the direction that the tall, blond-haired stranger had taken. ‘I’ll bet you anything you like he’s married, too.’
Marcie’s gaze followed the direction of Beth’s gesture. ‘What makes you think that? Apart from the fact that you’re hoping he might be because then you don’t have to think about the possibility that he might be available.’
‘He’s got kids. No one without kids wears a scarf with a school name tag on it.’
Marcie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Okay, Sherlock, you win.’ She rummaged in her bag for a bunch of keys and unlocked the door to the audiology and hearing therapy unit. ‘I’ll ask him anyway. If he doesn’t bring a wife along, you owe me coffee for a month.’
If Beth had decided not to go anywhere near Cardiology, fate, in the shape of a six-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes, seemed to have other ideas. She had found him wandering alone in the corridor outside the hearing therapy unit, dirt on his hands and the knees of his jeans and close to tears. After a halting start, a little gentle persuasion got the whole story out of him.
‘So your dad works here?’ Beth had bathed his hands and was dabbing them dry. ‘What’s his name, Jack?’
Jack’s tears were forgotten now and he looked up at her proudly. ‘He’s a doctor and he works in the cardiology department—that means hearts.’ Beth nodded, looking impressed. ‘His name is Matt Sutherland.’
Beth’s eyes skittered to the dark blue cashmere scarf that Jack had been wearing, which had struck her as slightly unsuitable for a child. ‘All right, then, Jack, I’m just going to make a phone call and find out where your dad is right now and then we can go and find him together.’
The thought that he was married with a child gave Beth the perfect reason to ignore the thrill that accompanied any thought of the disturbingly attractive Dr Sutherland. A call to his secretary elicited his whereabouts and Beth got Jack back into his coat, gripping the boy’s hand tightly all the way down to Outpatients. The receptionist nodded her through, indicating that Dr Sutherland was currently alone and pointing to the small consulting room that was his for the afternoon.
Beth stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. This was stupid. Just knock.
‘Should I do our special secret-code knock?’ Jack was looking up at her seriously.
‘Do what, Jack?’
‘Our secret code. So Dad knows it’s me. He knocks back with his secret code and I know it’s him.’