‘Yes, I agree. Thanks, Jon.’
‘Are you finished for the day?’
Chloe nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve seen all the patients on my list. I had some paperwork to catch up on but that can wait.’
‘Then what do you say to my staying here with Amy and sorting out a bed for her? I think it’s time you went home and had a conversation with Hannah.’
He was absolutely right and wishing that Jon would come with her, in the hope that he might be able to conquer Hannah’s fears as effortlessly as he’d conquered Amy’s, was just selfish. Amy needed someone with her here, and Hannah needed some support too. This was the obvious solution.
‘Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
‘I’m fine here until my shift starts. You’ll be back by then?’
‘Yes, I’ll make sure if it. With or without Hannah.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Have you eaten?’ He shook his head, as if that didn’t really matter. ‘I’ll get you something. I’ve got some rosehip teabags if you’d like tea?’
From the look on his face, rosehip teabags didn’t quite hit the spot. ‘Thanks, but...actually anything with caffeine and a few calories would be great. And a drink for Amy. My wallet’s in my jacket pocket.’
He picked Amy up, soothing her gently. Chloe ignored his jacket and made for the door. The least she could do for him was to stand him breakfast, even if it was just a sandwich from the canteen.
* * *
Chloe had left a large cup of coffee and a sandwich from the canteen perched on the window sill, well out of Amy’s reach. Then she’d hugged Amy, gifted Jon with a smile that had been as delicious as it had been hurried, and had left.
‘Just you and me, then, eh?’ He rocked Amy in his arms. She was becoming increasingly fretful, and the sooner he started the antibiotic drip the better. He’d sent one of the nurses to get what he needed, and he was alone for a moment.
‘Don’t you worry, now, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay, and we’ll make you better.’ Making Amy better was reasonably straightforward. Making everything okay was a lot more fraught with uncertainty. Hannah hadn’t just been distressed when she’d arrived at Chloe’s house, there had been a wild look in her eyes that had told Jon she was very close to breaking point. He’d been loath to leave her alone, but Hannah hadn’t given him much choice in the matter.
‘Mum-eee...’ Amy’s little face started to scrunch up and tears escaped her eyes. Jon held her close, soothing her.
‘All right. Mummy’s coming.’ Not straight away but soon, he hoped. ‘You want to know a secret, Amy?’
‘I love secrets...’ Jon jumped as someone spoke. He hadn’t heard the calm-faced nurse re-enter the room, and when he turned she was standing behind him.
‘This one is that I’m gasping for that cup of coffee over there.’ Jon gave her a smile and a shrug when her lip curled slightly in disbelief.
‘I’ll take her. Go and drink your coffee.’
‘Thanks.’
He’d leave the real secret until later. It was one thing to tell Amy that her Aunt Chloe was one of the most beautiful women he’d seen in a long while but, then, Amy could be relied on not to syphon that information into the hospital gossip network. Neither would she betray the part about Chloe’s special magic. Jon couldn’t quite put his finger on what kind of magic it was, but he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t recognise it was there.
He sipped his coffee, watching as the nurse busied herself, trying to tell himself that he shouldn’t be shaken by any of this. It was strai
ghtforward. A housemate for six weeks while he made his own place habitable. A child who needed his help. It was neat and clean and nothing that he couldn’t deal with.
Not like his marriage. Jon had often wondered whether the time bomb that had finally blown everything apart had been primed on his and Helen’s wedding day. Ticking away the moments of pure happiness, measuring all the times that attention to two blossoming careers had demanded they spend apart, and tallying up each moment of tired indifference. Then exploding suddenly, sending shards of vitriol that scattered themselves across every aspect of Jon’s life, embedding themselves deep into his heart.
A heart that had been hardened by time, but now felt under attack. Chloe’s house was a long way away from the perfect, magazine-cover home that he and Helen had shared, but he’d found himself suddenly at ease there, as if he’d just pulled on a favourite shirt. Maybe it was a little frayed in places but it was warm and comfortable, fitting him perfectly. And if her house made him yearn for something he didn’t have, then Chloe herself turned an obscure ache into an urgent stab of longing.
‘Chloe’s gone now?’ The nurse interrupted his reverie.
‘Yeah.’
‘So you’re left holding the baby...’ The nurse bent down, smoothing Amy’s brow in a motion of comfort. ‘Pretty little thing, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is.’ Jon had always assumed that Amy’s light auburn curls and the freckles across her nose must be inherited from her father. But some quirk of genetics had rendered the little girl the image of her aunt, right down to her honey-brown eyes.
The feeling that he was being sucked in by Chloe’s eyes wasn’t an entirely unpleasant one. But he was in control of his life now. He could decide to ignore whatever part of Chloe he wanted to.