Busy.
‘All you do is work, but my present is going to change all that. I’ve got to go.’ Josh suddenly sounded harassed and Mac heard the sound of an ambulance siren and voices in the background. ‘What’s the matter with our department? The tourists have gone home and we’re still inundated in A and E. We need to do some accident prevention work around here. Stop people driving too fast on narrow Cornish roads when it’s icy.’
‘It keeps us busy.’ And he liked to be busy. Work was his life. Work was his saviour. ‘What’s happening about the nursing situation?’
‘All sorted. She starts on Monday.’
Mac frowned. ‘Who starts?’
‘The new A and E nurse. She’s a whiz. You’ll love her. And now I’ve got to go. Lives to save. Nurses to impress. Talk to you later. Merry Christmas.’ The phone went dead and Mac gave a sigh and replaced the handset.
He could just imagine what his brother was facing. They were so understaffed at the moment that the situation was becoming almost dangerous. As the consultant in charge of the department, he’d put his case to the hospital authorities on several occasions, but nothing had been done and the arguments were always the same. No more budget. And no staff willing to bury themselves in the depths of Cornwall, particularly in the winter.
Which meant that Christmas was going to be busy.
Exactly the way he liked it.
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS her perfect house.
And there was no one home.
Louisa tried the doorbell again and cuddled her long wool coat around her to keep out the freezing wind. It had started snowing again and soft flakes settled on the ground and clung to her tumbling dark hair. She’d only stepped out of her car a few minutes before and already her fingers were freezing and she couldn’t feel her toes.
If she was going to spend Christmas here, she needed more clothes.
She gave a shiver and pressed the bell again, this time keeping her finger on it for much longer. Someone had to be there. Josh had assured her that his brother would be at home. That he was expecting her.
Giving up on the bell, she took a step backwards and looked at the huge white house. It was gorgeous. The sort of house she’d dreamed about as a child. The sort of house that should have been full of kids and dogs and laughter. She stared, wistfully. On the ground floor, huge glass windows faced out to sea across a wide deck, piled with drifted snow. A large, rambling garden stretched all the way down to the sand dunes, wild and neglected.
It was a house with a story to tell. And today there were no signs of life.
Remembering everything that Josh had told her about his brother and why he hated Christmas, Louisa stared anxiously at the house.
Just how much did Mac Sullivan hate Christmas?
Did he hate it enough to—to...?
She gazed up at the huge windows and bit her lip. Christmas was a bad time of year for lots of people, even without tragedy in their lives. What if he was lying in there, an empty bottle of tablets by the side of his bed? Maybe he’d left a note—
No.
She shook herself and wished her imagination wasn’t quite so lively. He was probably just watching TV or something. He probably couldn’t hear the doorbell.
Wishing she’d worn a thermal vest under her jumper, Louisa walked up to the window and peered inside, hoping to see signs of life.
She’d been told to arrive at lunchtime and this was lunchtime.
The living room was elegantly furnished with large white sofas set on a rich wooden floor, but the room had a formal feel that suggested that no one actually sat on the sofas. The cushions were plumped and smooth, like something prepared for a photographic shoot for an upmarket magazine.
It didn’t look lived in.
She frowned thoughtfully. A house like this was meant to be a home and this didn’t look like any home she’d ever imagined. Especially not at Christmas. A room like that should be filled with holly and presents and a massive tree.
Did Mac Sullivan have no one to buy presents for?
Had he shut everyone out since his wife had died?