Her Real Family Christmas. Kate Hardy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ asked when Stephanie scribbled down their answers, naming Henry VIII’s fourth wife and what happened to her.

      ‘We learned a rhyme at school,’ Stephanie said with a smile. ‘I liked history. But I’m glad there are others in our team who know about sport. I’m hopeless when it comes to sport, and I would’ve lost the quiz for us.’

      ‘You were good on literature, too,’ Katrina said. ‘And general knowledge.’

      ‘Well, I read a lot.’ Stephanie shrugged off the praise, but inwardly she was pleased. Here, at the London Victoria, she fitted in. And life was going to be just fine.

      The question papers were finally marked by the emergency department’s team. ‘And the winner—by a clear ten points—is the paediatric team,’ Max Fenton announced. ‘Well done. You get the tin of biscuits this month. But don’t think you’re going to make it two in a row, Morgan,’ he informed the paediatrics consultant. ‘We’re still in the lead overall.’

      ‘By all of two quizzes. Don’t count your chickens.’ Rhys laughed. ‘We have a secret weapon now.’

      ‘Who could just as well be on our team,’ Max said, ‘given that the PAU has such a crossover with the emergency department.’

      ‘Hands off. She’s ours,’ Rhys said.

      Stephanie was pretty sure that it was just friendly bickering, but even so she judged it politic to disappear to the toilet until any ruffled feathers had been smoothed over.

      On the way back, she discovered that all the teams had merged and groups of people were sitting at different tables. Not quite sure which one to join, she paused and scanned the room.

      ‘Hey, Stephanie.’

      Relieved at not being totally deserted, she turned towards the voice.

      Daniel Connor.

      He smiled at her. ‘Seeing as you wiped the floor with us, will you let me buy you a celebratory drink?’

      Did he mean as a colleague?

      If she could pigeonhole him just as a friend and colleague, and ignore the way her heart seemed to do a backflip every time he smiled, it would be fine. OK, so she knew he was single, which meant there was no reason why he shouldn’t ask her to have a drink with him as more than just a friendly gesture from a colleague; but she was pretty sure that he had as much emotional baggage as she did. She had no idea how long ago he’d lost his wife, and she wouldn’t dream of asking, but for all she knew he could still be healing. Just as she was. Neither of them needed any complications.

      ‘Stephanie?’ he prompted.

      She had to answer now. ‘A drink from a colleague would be lovely.’ Just to make the terms clear. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘What would you like?’

      ‘Sparkling water, please.’

      ‘I’ll just go and get our drinks. Have a seat.’

      She noticed that he, too, was drinking mineral water when he returned with their glasses. Because he was on call, so he needed to keep a clear head in case of an emergency? Or because he was a single parent, and couldn’t afford the luxury of a couple of glasses of wine, in case his daughter woke and needed him in the night?

      Not that it was any of her business.

      ‘So how come your general knowledge is so amazing?’ Daniel asked.

      She smiled. ‘Misspent youth.’ Which he could interpret how he liked. She wasn’t going to tell him that it was from growing up with her nose in a book to keep the outside world at a safe distance. She’d read and read and read, and absorbed everything.

      ‘I’m impressed. And I’m trying to work out how I can annex you for our team, next time round.’

      This time, she laughed. ‘Sorry. Max Fenton’s already suggested that to Rhys and got short shrift.’

      ‘I’m not Max.’ He tapped his nose and grinned.

      ‘I still don’t rate your chances.’ She turned her glass round in her hands. ‘I meant to say, I’m sorry about your wife. It must be hard for you.’

      ‘Yeah, it was very hard when she was killed.’ He grimaced. ‘I might as well tell You now and get the pity party out of the way.’

      Oh, no. She hadn’t been fishing. ‘You really don’t have to say anything,’ she backtracked hastily. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.’

      ‘It’s natural to wonder. And I’d rather you heard it from me than from anyone else.’ He looked sad. ‘It was a freak accident, four years ago. Mia was only two at the time. An elderly driver panicked when she was parking her car and she hit the accelerator instead of the brake. She ended up driving over the pavement and mowing Meg down. We were lucky that Mia wasn’t killed, too—Meg had the presence of mind to shove the pushchair out of the way when she realised the car wasn’t going to stop.’

      Stephanie stared at him, shocked. ‘I’m so sorry. What an awful thing to happen.’

      ‘Not just for me. Meg’s family lost their daughter, Mia lost her mum, my family lost Meg… and the old lady who killed her probably still has nightmares about it. She was in bits at the inquest—but it was an accident. It’s not as if she meant to run Meg over like that.’ He shrugged.

      ‘Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if she’d given up driving when her family asked her to, instead of being stubborn and insisting that she could still do it and they were trying to take away her independence. Meg would probably still be alive. Mia might have a brother or sister. We’d probably have a dog.’ He blew out a breath. ‘But it’s pointless torturing myself over it because nothing I can do will ever make a difference. And I have a lot of good things in life. I have Mia and my family and Meg’s family.’

      Yeah. He was definitely lucky there. Not that Stephanie intended to say that. It would be too crass.

      ‘And they all chip in to help with Mia.’ He smiled. ‘Mum does the school run for me in the mornings if I’m on an early shift. My sister, Lucy, happens to be a teacher at Mia’s school, so she’ll take Mia home if I’m on a late, provided she doesn’t have a meeting. If she’s got a meeting, then Meg’s mum picks Mia up and gives her dinner. I’m really lucky.’

      ‘And so is Mia, having So many people who really care about her.’

      ‘Absolutely.’ he smiled at her. ‘So what’s your story?’

      The question threw her. ‘I… er… ’

      ‘Married, children?’ he asked.

      Once, and almost, she thought. ‘No story.’ At least, not one she wanted to tell: a failed marriage; a failed surrogate pregnancy; and a failure at being part of a family.

      ‘In other words, back off and stop being nosey,’ he said.

      She winced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be that sharp. You weren’t being nosey. I’ve noticed that everyone’s very close here, at СКАЧАТЬ