Raw Deal. Caroline Anderson

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       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘SHE’S up to something, you know—have I told you the latest?’

      Jo’s lips twitched at her friend’s outraged tone. ‘Which particular latest?’

      Maggie Wells straightened from the incubator and grinned wryly.

      ‘Lucinda’s not going on the cruise. Says she thinks her health isn’t up to it—something about lassitude and being very run down.’

      ‘Maybe she is?’

      Maggie snorted. ‘Lucinda? That old rascal’s as strong as an ox. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word lassitude! She’s on more committees than I’ve had hot dinners, and if she isn’t arranging the flowers in the cathedral she’s at some RMBF lunch party or else hatching my nuptials with her cronies. No, if I know my grandmother, there’s something sinister behind it, and I’ll give you three guesses what!’

      ‘You could always give in and marry one of these eligible young men——’

      ‘Are you kidding? I neither want nor need Lucinda’s help to find a husband. I’m quite capable of doing it on my own.’

      ‘Are you? When did you last go out for a serious date with a man you wanted to be with?’

      Maggie met Jo’s eyes with habitual honesty. ‘I’m not sure I ever have, but one thing I am sure of— my grandmother isn’t any better at finding my Mr Right than I am!’

      She jotted a reading down on the baby’s chart, and smiled at Jo. ‘Amy’s improving.’

      They both looked at the baby, still unbelievably tiny but stronger with every day that passed. Her young, tragically drug-addicted mother had committed suicide the day after her birth, leaving a note putting the baby in Jo’s care. All that remained was to convince the Social Services that Jo and her new husband Alex were suitable adoptive parents—and that was by no means a foregone conclusion.

      ‘How are the adoption proceedings going?’ Maggie asked now, and Jo shrugged and gave a strained smile.

      ‘Slow, intrusive, very thorough. They have to be, don’t they? After all, Amy’s the important one.’

      Maggie nodded. ‘I hope—you know …’

      ‘Yes—thanks, Maggie.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Have you got time for a quick coffee? I promised Annie I’d meet her at eleven.’

      ‘It’ll have to be a quick one.’

      They left the quiet bustle of the special care baby unit and made their way down in the lift.

      As the doors opened they met Alex Carter, Jo’s husband, and he dropped a kiss on Jo’s lips and smiled. ‘Ships in the night—how’s Amy?’

      ‘Better.’

      ‘Great—I’ll try and pop up later. Must go—I’ve got an emergency section. I don’t suppose you’ve got time to assist, Jo?’

      ‘Well—as it’s you …!’ She grinned at Maggie. ‘Duty calls, I’m afraid.’

      Maggie watched as the lift doors slid shut on them, Jo tall and slender with enviable curves and a wild mane of dark red hair, Alex taller still, and good-looking in a soberly distinguished sort of way. Sober, that was, until you caught the way he looked at his wife.

      Maggie felt an unexpected pang of envy. For all she complained about her grandmother’s conniving and matchmaking, she would love nothing more than to settle down with the right man.

      She sighed. Perhaps she was just too darned fussy?

      She found Anne Gabriel in the canteen, and explained that Jo had had to assist Alex with an emergency.

      Anne nodded. ‘I just admitted her. Antepartum haemorrhage. If all goes well, you’ll have another baby upstairs to deal with.’

      Maggie dropped into the low chair and sipped her coffee. They’ll be a few minutes yet. I’d better make the most of it.’

      They look happy, don’t they?’ Anne said after a moment, and Maggie noticed that she looked wistful.

      She gave a tiny, humourless laugh. ‘Yes, they do. I was just envying them a minute ago.’

      Anne smiled. ‘Me too. Never mind, perhaps you’ll meet someone on this cruise—where are you going?’

      ‘Singapore and the Indonesian Islands—except I don’t think I am. My grandmother’s pulled out—says she’s ill.’

      ‘Oh, dear! Anything serious?’

      Maggie snorted. ‘You jest. No, she’s up to something. I expect the captain is the emotionally crippled son of one of her bridge partners!’

      Anne laughed. ‘Anyway, why does that stop you going?’