St Piran's: The Wedding!. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ deserted. Nobody with children would have a vicious dog, would they? Besides, his teeth were occupied with the large piece of driftwood. And his tail was wagging in a very friendly manner.

      ‘Crash!’ The woman called firmly. ‘Come back here.’

      Crash? The name was unusual enough to ring a bell. He’d only been a gangly, half-grown puppy then, of course, but Megan could remember him wearing a big, white ribbon around his neck at a summer beach wedding. Luke and Anna Davenport’s wedding.

      It wasn’t Anna coming towards her now, though.

      ‘I’m so sorry.’ The woman, bundled up warmly in a coat, hat and huge scarf, was very apologetic. ‘He’s a bit too friendly, so he is. But he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

      She had a strong Irish accent and the lilt took Megan immediately into a space she really didn’t want to be. Was everything and everybody here going to make her think instantly of Josh? She took a deep breath and focused on the dog.

      ‘It’s fine,’ Megan said. ‘I don’t mind.’ To prove it, she scratched the dog behind one of his ears, which was easy to do because Crash was leaning on her leg. ‘Isn’t this the Davenports’ dog?’

      ‘Indeed it is. We mind him during the day when they’re both working. The children love him to bits, so they do.’

      The children were half hidden behind folds of the woman’s coat as she held their mittened hands. Megan could see cute hats with ears on them and bright plastic boots. A pink pair with red flowers and a green pair with eyes that made them look like frogs. The owner of the frog boots peered out from the folds of coat.

      ‘Cash naughty,’ a small voice pronounced.

      Crash wagged his tail harder.

      The woman looked down to smile at her charges. ‘Say hello, children.’

      But the children said nothing. Neither did Megan. Her gaze had also dropped and she could see that the children were no bigger than toddlers. That they seemed to be close enough the same size as each other to be twins.

      And … oh, God … the cheeky smile on the little boy’s face had a charm out of all proportion to his age. His eyes were too dark to determine their colour but they were so … alive. His face danced with mischief and Megan could feel the pull of a personality that went past being cute or attractive.

      It was the kind of pull that made it impossible not to get sucked in.

      To fall in love.

      The kind of connection that could be overwhelming. That had the capability of derailing, if not destroying, a life.

      Megan sucked in a deep breath. How ridiculous to be … what, afraid of a child?

      But it was more than that, wasn’t it? Much, much more.

      Her gaze jerked up again and now she could see past the folds of the scarf and a woollen hat pulled low over her forehead. She could see a woman who looked to be well into her sixties but could be younger because those lines suggested a life that had not been easy. Behind the spectacles she wore, Megan could now see the colour of her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She knew who had inherited that shade of indigo blue.

      ‘Oh, my goodness. You’re Josh’s mother … Claire O’Hara?’

      ‘Indeed I am.’ Claire blinked in surprise. ‘Have we met?’

      ‘Just once. At the hospital. When the twins were still in the intensive care unit. The day before.’

      The gaze Claire O’Hara directed at Megan was intense. And then it turned distinctly wary. ‘Oh … You’re Megan Phillips. The doctor. I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognise you. It was such a terrible time … the day before poor Rebecca’s funeral and …’

      ‘There’s no need to apologise.’ Megan was still caught by the undertone she couldn’t fail to have missed in the older woman’s gaze. Recognition of more than her identity.

      Had Josh filled her in on his star-crossed lover history?

      Unlikely. But this was a small village and St Piran’s hospital grapevine was robust thanks to people who loved to gossip, like that dreadful woman—the ward clerk in the NICU … what was her name? Ruth? No … Rita.

      Oh … Lord. Had Josh’s mother heard about the way they’d met, way back when Megan had been a final-year medical student? That she’d become pregnant after a one-night stand with Josh, who hadn’t been remotely interested in seeing her again? That he’d saved her life but that their son had been too premature to survive?

      That baby—Stephen—had been Claire’s grandson.

      Even if she hadn’t caught up on ancient history, she couldn’t have missed the scandal of the way she and Josh had been drawn back to each other when he’d moved to St Piran’s.

      “Poor Rebecca”, she’d said. Because her daughter-in-law had been badly treated by her husband, who had given up on their marriage and had been more interested in another woman? That Megan was the “other woman”? And that, in the end, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other?

      Or maybe she felt sorry for Rebecca because she’d died knowing that Josh was only staying in the marriage for the sake of the children.

      Megan was acutely embarrassed. Ashamed, even. The way she might have felt if Claire was her own grandmother and she’d disappointed her beyond measure. It had been a mistake to come back here. A dreadful mistake.

      Except that Claire wasn’t eyeing her as if she was the cause of all her son’s troubles. ‘And you look … different,’ she continued. That wary expression had completely gone now. Claire’s face actually creased with a kindly concern. ‘You’re so pale, dear. Are you all right?’

      ‘I’m … um … fine.’ Megan nodded for emphasis and then tried to cover her embarrassment at the undeserved sympathy by looking down and smiling at the children. They stared back, wide-eyed and still shy.

      ‘This is Max.’ Claire smiled. She turned her head. ‘And this is Brenna.’

      They were so impossibly cute. Small faces with perfect features and she could see now that their eyes were as blue as their grandmother’s and their father’s. She wondered if the hair beneath the animal hats would be glossy and black and so soft to run your fingers through it, just like Josh’s. Or had they inherited their mother’s blondeness?

      Josh’s children. Josh and Rebecca’s children. Living proof that he’d gone back to his wife’s bed after his marriage was supposedly over, leaving him morally available to Megan.

      Maybe something of how hard this was showed in her face.

      ‘Up,’ Brenna demanded, dropping her grandmother’s hand to hold both arms in the air. ‘Up, Nan. Pick me up.’

      Claire had to let go of Max’s hand to pick Brenna up. Max immediately toddled off, at some speed, towards the waves. Crash loped after him.

      ‘Max. Come back. We have to go home now. It’s starting to rain.’

      It СКАЧАТЬ