‘Let me sort out the blood test,’ Georgie said. ‘We’ll see how Max goes on the hypoallergenic formula, and then bring him in to reintroduce a milk feed and see if he reacts. We’ll do the test here, so if he reacts strongly we can help straight away. And if we’re right you’ll need to check the labels for absolutely everything you feed him, to make sure you avoid giving him anything with milk in it for at least the first year.’
‘About one in five babies outgrow a milk allergy by the time they’re a year old,’ Ryan said, ‘and most have outgrown it by the time they’re three, but some will have an immediate reaction to even small traces of dairy.’
Georgie cleaned Max’s heel and took a tiny sample of blood through a heel prick test. ‘It’s only temporarily uncomfortable,’ she reassured Max’s mum. ‘It’ll take a couple of days to get the results back, but in the meantime we’ll sort out the formula for you.
‘So he’s going to be all right?’ she asked.
Georgie rested her hand on the woman’s shoulder. ‘Yes. I know right now everything looks scary, but Dr McGregor and I have seen a lot of poorly babies in our time, and we’ve made them better. There are lots of things we can do to help Max.’
That was one of the things Ryan really liked about Georgie: she was calm, kind and practical. While she talked to Max’s mum about how to read labels and what kind of alternatives to try when weaning, Max’s mum was visibly relaxing and seeming more confident in her ability to manage.
Funny, Georgie made him feel that way, too. Not so much in his job—he knew what he was doing at the hospital—but outside. When he was with her, he saw the world in a different way. He was starting to feel connected. It scared him, because he’d never managed to do that before; yet at the same time he wanted more. Much more.
The following night, Georgie was woken by an insistent knocking on her bedroom door.
She grabbed her dressing gown, wrapped it round her and stomped over to the door. ‘What?’ she snapped as she opened the door to Ryan.
‘You need to come outside,’ he said. ‘Right now.’
‘I was asleep and I’m in my pyjamas,’ she pointed out, glaring at him.
‘Just get your coat and your boots on. Now. You’ll really regret it if you don’t.’
‘Are you insane?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s one in the morning and I’m on an early.’
‘I know. Stop arguing, Georgie. It’s important.’
Important? How? If it was a fire, she would’ve heard the smoke alarm. Why was he looking so pleased with himself? Why wasn’t he explaining whatever it was? Why was he such an irritating man?
He waited for her to walk before him, not leaving her with much choice.
Scowling, she pulled her boots and her coat on, and followed him out to the garden.
‘Look up,’ he said.
She did so, and felt her eyes widen as she realised why he’d wanted her to go outside—and why he hadn’t explained. He’d wanted this to be a surprise. A delight.
And it was.
Above them, curtains of pale green light rippled slowly across the sky, the stars still visible through the green haze. The thing she’d always wanted to see. The Northern Lights.
She’d never seen anything so gorgeous and breathtaking before.
‘Oh, my God, Ryan, it’s...’ Words failed her, and she stood staring up at the sky, utterly entranced.
She had no idea quite how it happened, but then his arm was wrapped round her shoulders and hers was round his waist.
It was just for bodily warmth, she told herself, because it was a cold night and they had pyjamas on under their coats.
And when he stooped slightly so his cheek was against hers, again she told herself it was just for warmth.
But then somehow they ended up facing each other. He rested his palm against her cheek, and she found herself doing the same. Right here, right now, under the glow of the Northern Lights, everything felt like a different world. A magical one, full of possibilities.
He dipped his head, and brushed his mouth very lightly against hers. Her lips tingled at the touch: an invitation, a promise, a temptation. Warmth and sweetness. A real connection. Things that had been missing from her life for so very long.
And she couldn’t help responding, sliding her hand round to the back of his head and urging his mouth down to hers again. His kiss was long and slow, and so very sweet that it made her ache. Asking, not demanding; it made her feel as if she was unfurling under the spring sunshine after a hard and lonely winter, as if the dancing lights in the sky were flickering inside her head, and she didn’t want it to stop.
Yet, at the same time, common sense seeped back into her along with the chill of the night air.
She was kissing her housemate.
Ryan was gorgeous, but he’d had a miserable time in the past. And how did she know things would even work between them? Hadn’t she learned the hard way through Charlie that her judgement in men wasn’t good enough?
She pulled away. ‘This isn’t a good idea.’
His eyes were dark and unreadable. She didn’t have a clue what was going on in his head.
But then he nodded. ‘You’re right. We’ll forget this ever happened. Blame it on the excitement of seeing the Northern Lights.’
Lights that even now were fading away, melting back into the stratosphere.
Just like that feeling of warmth and connection.
Leaving her back in the shadows of loneliness.
‘Agreed,’ she said, trying to stem the sudden flood of misery.
It was only a kiss.
A temporary aberration.
Not to be repeated.
‘Thank you for waking me to see the lights,’ she said, putting as much politeness as she could into her voice. Distance, that was what she needed most right now. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Yeah,’ he
