‘From a hospital in Nepal,’ Niall said brusquely. ‘The hospital contacted me to say Paige had been admitted with polio and her mother…Her mother had to leave…’
Jessie stared. The implications of what he’d just said were horrible.
‘Polio,’ she whispered, her hands tightening round the child’s waist as though by holding her closer she could protect her from something so awful. ‘But…but no child gets polio now…’
‘Not if they’ve been immunised,’ Niall said harshly. ‘Paige’s mother didn’t think it was necessary.’
‘And…and you?’ Surely the man should have taken some responsibility for his little daughter.
‘I didn’t even know Paige had been born.’ Niall lifted a loaf of bread from the dresser and sliced it with force. ‘Until I had the phone call from Kathmandu I didn’t know of Paige’s existence. I’ve had a daughter for over five years-and I didn’t know. Until the phone call…’
‘To say Paige was ill?’
‘To say Paige was ill.’ He slashed down at the loaf. ‘Toast, Dr Harvey?’
When in doubt, eat
It was a principle that had served Jess well over the years. Preferably, when in doubt, eat chocolate but in a real crisis even toast would do.
This was crisis country if ever she’d experienced it.
Toast, then…
‘What do you think, Paige?’ Jess asked the little girl, forcing herself to look away from Niall’s savage face. She managed a smile down into the child’s frightened eyes. ‘Shall we have toast? Does your daddy make good toast?’
‘Yes,’ the child whispered and clung tighter.
Jess smiled. ‘Thank you, Dr Mountmarche,’ she told Niall. ‘Your daughter and I would both like toast’
Somehow, over the weirdly intimate breakfast, the little girl managed to relax. Jess moved to a chair at the table with Paige still clinging to her. Niall spread hot toast thickly with butter and strawberry jam and by the time Paige and Jess had eaten their third slice the child was sitting in the chair beside Jess and her face was less tense. She seemed almost normal.
Almost…There was still a hand clutching Jessie’s blouse.
‘You know who else likes toast?’ Jess asked between mouthfuls and watched the child find courage to answer.
‘Wh-who?’
‘The dog your daddy and I helped yesterday. Harry. I made toast last night and Harry ate the lot.’
‘Did he?’ Paige’s mouth trembled on a smile. ‘Is his leg better?’
‘Much better,’ Jess said roundly. ‘Thanks to your daddy. Your daddy’s a fine doctor, Paige.’
Paige looked across at her father as if suspending judgement. ‘I would like to see the doggie,’ she announced.
See for herself.
There was no trust of an adult world here.
‘Harry would like to see you, too,’ Jess smiled. ‘Maybe you could get dressed and your daddy could bring you down to the hospital. There’s someone down there who needs your daddy almost as much as Harry did.’
Where on earth had she found the courage to say that?
She was on dangerous ground here.
Should she talk the man into something via the child?
‘Dr Harvey…’ Niall said and his voice was menacing.
‘Yes?’ Jess met his look.
‘You know what I’ve said…’
‘Frank needs you, Dr Mountmarche,’ Jess said simply. ‘And if Paige is happy to spend some time with me…’
‘Don’t you want to stay here, Paige?’ Niall was looking at his small daughter as if trying to work out a puzzle that was beyond him. The anger faded. ‘Paige…?’
‘I’d like to see Harry,’ Paige repeated. ‘Please, Daddy…’
There was a long silence.
‘This is emotional blackmail,’ Niall said at last and his voice was stifled.
‘Frank needs a doctor. And I’ll use any means I can to find him one.’
‘Including hurting my daughter?’
Paige was concentrating on wiping the last of the strawberry jam from her plate with one sticky finger. The words didn’t register with the child-but they did register with Jess.
‘No,’ Jess said at last ‘Not including hurting your daughter. I’d never consciously hurt any person, Dr Mountmarche. I promise you…’
‘I’ve heard promises before,’ Niall said heavily. He rose and started clearing plates. His face set as if he was coming to a decision that he didn’t like. ‘Well, Paige, if you want to go visiting your doggie friend maybe you’d better get dressed.’
‘You mean you’ll both come?’ Jess asked, scarcely daring to breathe.
‘We’ll come,’ Niall said heavily, ‘but under protest.’
It took Paige almost fifteen minutes to dress. Jess offered to help but was met with a curt rebuff by both father and daughter.
‘No,’ Paige said, panic in her voice, and Niall shook his head.
‘She dresses herself. She won’t have it any other way.’
The child limped from the room on her crutches and Niall and Jess were left on their own.
Looking at the child and then turning to each other.
There was that same tension-as if there was almost a physical link. A chain of invisible silken threads, as strong as steel…
‘I…I appreciate this,’ Jess said at last ‘You’d better.’ Niall turned from her with a perceptible effort and started hurling dishes into the sink with a force at odds with the softness of his tone. Anger, only just reined in. ‘If Paige suffers…’
‘How on earth would she suffer?’
Crash. A ceramic plate hit the sink and smashed neatly into two.
Jess stared down into the sink at the smashed plate and, despite herself, her lips twitched.
‘I hope your plate deserved its fate,’ she said primly and Niall wheeled to face her.
And caught her laughter.
He couldn’t maintain his fury. He stared down at her, working hard at keeping his expression rigid, but despite his anger his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. Somewhere in the depths of those black eyes lurked humour.
‘You deserve to have your neck wrung, Dr Harvey.’
‘So you’re taking it out on the china instead of my neck. Very wise.’ Jess grinned and picked up a tea towel as the tension finally eased. ‘You wash and I’ll wipe?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’
‘You fed me toast,’ Jess smiled. ‘And I always do my share of domestic duty for those who feed me. Except ironing. Any man who expects me to iron his shirts will have to think again.’
‘I’ll remember,’ Niall smiled and suddenly the electric current was zinging back and forth again with a force that almost shook Jess off her feet.
No…
She didn’t want this.
‘So…’ She took a deep breath, concentrating on wiping her newly washed plate with much more care than it deserved. ‘Tell me about Paige.’
‘There’s not a lot to tell.’
‘Is she so uncomplicated?’ It was a rebuke and Niall heard it. His hands tightened on the plate he held and he swore.
‘No.’ Then he sighed. Niall’s hands grew still; he looked out of the window across the slopes of vineyards and Jess sensed that Niall Mountmarche was no longer seeing vines.
