Family for the Children's Doc

Hannah slouched over to her white bookcase and took a few moments to pick two. Moments later she was back in bed with both books in her lap.

Clara settled onto the bed beside her and looked at the books. She didn’t recognise either of them.

‘Okay, let’s start with this one.’

She wrapped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders, letting her snuggle in and holding the picture book in front of them both. She was delighted to find it was a story about a little girl who wanted to be an astronaut and decided to make herself a suit out of things she found around the house. The story was comical and the illustrations perfect and they chatted throughout.

‘Is this one of your favourites?’

Hannah nodded. ‘I want to be an astronaut,’ she said with the determination of a five-year-old.

‘You want to go into space?’

Hannah nodded enthusiastically.

‘Why space? Why don’t you want to be a deep sea diver? Or an Arctic explorer? Or a pirate?’ She pulled random ideas from nowhere as they snuggled together. There was something so nice about just having a little time together.

Hannah turned her big eyes towards her. ‘I want to go to space to see if I can catch Mummy. She’s one of the stars up there.’

Clara’s stomach clenched instantly, but her heart expanded in her chest.

Out of the mouths of babes...

She’d heard the expression many times but never felt a punch in the gut like now. The range of emotions was overwhelming, and she knew she had to handle this carefully.

‘Who told you about Mummy being a star?’

‘Daddy and Auntie Georgie. There’s a star up in the sky that has Mummy’s name. I sometimes look for it at night. But I’m not always sure what one it is.’

She stopped for a second then wrinkled her little brow. ‘They told me they gave the star Mummy’s name when I was little. Just a baby.’

Clara nodded, trying to choose her words carefully. But she didn’t get a chance. Hannah seemed to want to keep talking. ‘I don’t really remember her,’ she said in a small voice, tinged with guilt.

Clara let her hand push some of Hannah’s bed-ruffled hair back from her face. ‘Oh, honey. That’s okay. You were tiny. No one expects you to remember. I don’t know anyone who can remember things from when they were a baby.’

She noticed the photo frame across the room; Hannah was staring at it. Even from here, Clara could see the pale-faced woman with brown hair and the baby bundle in her arms. Clara’s heart gave a twist as she thought about what Abby had sacrificed to make sure her daughter got into this world safely. But the overwhelming feeling she got when she looked at that photo was love. It was clearly written across Abby’s face. She knew she wasn’t going to see her daughter grow up. She knew she didn’t have much time left. And the photo captured the joy and love in her face for her daughter.

‘People tell me stories,’ said Hannah slowly.

Clara drew her eyes away from the picture. ‘What kind of stories?’

‘Dad...’ Hannah looked down at her hands ‘...and sometimes Auntie Georgie. They tell me things about Mummy. Things they all did together. And Daddy says he’s got things to show me when I’m older.’ Her fingers twisted the blanket on her lap as she shook her little head. ‘But I don’t remember things—’ her voice broke a little ‘—and I think they want me to.’

A lump formed in Clara’s throat immediately and she pulled Hannah up into her lap. The little girl’s confusion was palpable. And Clara couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d held this inside.

She smoothed down Hannah’s hair with one hand as she spoke. ‘Hannah, your daddy and your auntie know that you don’t remember your mummy. They wish that you did, and that’s why they tell you stories. They want you to know things about her. Like how much she loved you, how much fun she was, and how important you were to her.’

Hannah blinked and bit her bottom lip.

Clara felt as if her heart might break for her. She cupped Hannah’s face in her hands. ‘It’s okay, honey. It’s okay not to remember. As you get bigger you might want to find out some things about your mummy, and that’s when you can ask any questions you like, and your dad, and your auntie, will be able to answer them for you. But this isn’t something to worry about. Not at all. The important thing to remember is that you are a very special girl and that you’re loved, by lots of people.’

She pulled Hannah into a hug as her own eyes brimmed with tears. Hannah wrapped her arms tight around Clara’s neck. After a little while she whispered, ‘Clara?’

‘Yes?’

‘Will you keep cuddling me until I fall asleep?’

‘Of course I will.’ Clara moved on the bed, letting Hannah lie down next to her and wrapping her arm around her when she moved to cuddle in close.

Her heart was full of love for this little girl, and her heart was also full of love for Joshua. She’d thought the most difficult conversation she’d have with Joshua was about their potential future together. Now, she wondered if the most difficult conversation she’d have would be about Hannah. Was there any way to talk about this delicately?

He was Hannah’s father. He deserved to know that his daughter was struggling a little—and that he, however unwittingly, and with the best will in the world, might be contributing to it.

She squeezed her eyes closed for a second as dread swept over her. She’d have to time it carefully. She didn’t want to say anything to upset him. But the truth was, if she cared about him she had to let him know. No matter how hard it was.

Her free hand moved back and forth, doing soft strokes across Hannah’s hair as she willed her to sleep.

Was this what being a parent was like? Knowing you had to do what was right first?

Through in the other room she could hear her mobile ring. It would be Joshua, telling her how things had worked out at the hospital. She wanted to answer, she really did. But if she moved she might disturb Hannah.

So she let the phone ring, and kept holding onto Hannah tightly.

There would be time to talk later.

She just had to work out when.

CHAPTER TEN

JOSHUA PICKED UP the mail and stared down at the envelope in his hand. It was cream, good quality but looked a bit battered. The name on the front was definitely his—Dr Joshua Woodhouse—but the calligraphy on the front had obviously been written with a fountain pen and had been smeared at some point on the journey, meaning the end of the street address was almost illegible. Someone had scored through the smearing and written an alternative address—24F Park Road?—with a red pen, and that had been followed by Not at this Address. Another hand had written 24F Park Tower?, which was where the envelope had finally ended up.

As he tore open the envelope he was amused by the travels of whatever was inside. A cream card with a tell-tale picture on the front fell into his hand. His stomach clenched. From the sketch of a bride and groom on the front it had to be a wedding invitation.

He flipped it open, scanning the words.

Alyssa Hart and David Jenner

would like to invite

Dr Joshua Woodhouse and partner

to celebrate their marriage on...

/> He let out a groan. Of course. Both Alyssa and David had been on his university medicine course. He knew they were getting married—they might even have sent one of those ‘save the date’ cards but he’d completely forgotten. In all honesty, he hadn’t been invited to many weddings over the last few years. He was sure most of his friends thought of him as the awkward single guest—plus they knew he was a lone parent to Hannah. But Alyssa and David had insisted he come to the wedding. The date made his stomach flip. This weekend. Just how long had this invitation been bouncing around?

He examined the envelope. Sure enough, the postage date was six weeks before. And, since they’d already sent him a save the date, he was sure he wouldn’t get out of it with the usual Sorry, I’m scheduled to work that he had pulled before when he’d been invited to social events.

His thoughts started spinning. His parents had already offered to come and take Hannah away for that weekend to their caravan just outside Brighton. He had planned to surprise Clara in some way. He’d even toyed with the idea of taking the train to Paris and staying overnight somewhere. But he hadn’t booked anything—and now it looked like he had a wedding to attend.

He leaned against the wall for a few moments. Of course, the only person he would invite would be Clara. But would she actually want to go? The wedding would be full of people who’d known him years ago. Some of them might actually have attended his own wedding, and he knew that Clara would get a few curious glances. He paused—was it fair to ask her? It wasn’t that his friends would say anything awkward or inappropriate... Then again, it was a wedding, alcohol would be involved, and his friends might say something entirely awkward or inappropriate.

But he wanted to get back out there. He wanted to introduce Clara to his friends. He didn’t want to continue to be the sad, lonely, widowed single friend. Clara was gorgeous. She was funny and smart and he wanted his friends to know that he’d met someone who...