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He was looking at her. Looking her up and down. And, sickeningly, she noticed his gaze appeared to be centred on her chest. Men! Feeling her cheeks heat, she stared back at him, trying to make him lift his gaze a good few inches upwards, towards her face.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘You...er...might want to get out of those clothes.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ He had some front! He’d only just met her!

  What is it with men? They do you one tiny favour and suddenly expect you to drop your—

  ‘You’ve got milk on your blouse, something questionable on your skirt, and you appear to be...’ he smiled and looked away, as if he was preserving her modesty ‘...leaking.’

  Leaking? Brooke looked down at herself and instantly felt her cheeks flame with heat. She was indeed in a state. Her boobs had leaked milk—no doubt due to Morgan’s cries—she had a smear of what might possibly be poo at the top of her thigh from the earlier explosion, and there was indeed a smelly, sour milk stain, crusting away on her shoulder.

  ‘Oh, God...’

  She reached into her handbag for wipes, but she didn’t have any. They were all in the nappy bag that she’d left with Daisy down in the crèche. She couldn’t work looking like this! She’d have to put some scrubs on. Making her even more late!

  The lift doors pinged open and both she and the military man stepped out and turned left towards A&E. Frowning, Brooke looked at him once again, noting his proud bearing, his march rather than stride, and the fact that they were both most definitely heading towards the same department.

  ‘Do you work in A&E?’ she asked, curious.

  Had she embarrassed herself in front of a new work colleague? Staff did come and go frequently. It was a pressured environment—stressful. Some people couldn’t hack it. But Brooke could. She loved it there.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘I work there, too.’

  He stopped in his tracks immediately and looked at her, this time with a single raised eyebrow. ‘This is your first day back after maternity leave?’

  How did he know that? Unless her friends had mentioned it to him... ‘Yes.’

  His eyes widened. ‘You’re Dr Bailey?’

  She nodded, surprised that he knew her name. ‘Yes. Who are you?’

  He didn’t answer right away, and it took him a moment before he held out his hand. ‘Major Matt Galloway. Jen’s husband.’

  She was unaware that her mouth had dropped open. But she numbly reached forward and shook his hand anyway.

  She’d meant to call. She’d meant to. Only... Life had got in the way and she’d been struggling to cope herself. Life was harder and busier than she’d suspected it would be with a baby, and she was doing everything alone. Jen’s death three days after she’d given birth to Morgan had made her postnatal blues a lot worse and she’d been grieving herself.

  Trying to get herself together just to get dressed and out of the house had seemed an insurmountable task—and then there was the fact that she’d never met Jen’s husband. She’d thought it might be awkward if she just turned up at their house on the other side of London. So she’d put it off and put it off, and when finally she’d thought that she really ought to go and offer her condolences and help so much time had passed she’d just felt that it wouldn’t be right.

  It had made her feel incredibly guilty, and now the last person she’d expected to run into at work was Jen’s widower.

  Had he just dropped off Lily?

  She hadn’t even been able to make it to Jen’s funeral on time. She’d misjudged how long it would take her to get ready and out of the house, and when she’d got there the funeral had already started. She’d slipped into the back of the church and huddled in a pew at the back. Then—naturally—Morgan had begun crying and, not wishing to disturb the service, she’d crept back out. The only thing that would settle her daughter was being pushed in her pram, so she’d gone for a walk.

  Returning to the church long after the service had finished she had stood looking down at Jen’s grave, tears dripping down her cheeks. Feeling so alone.

  She’d thought maybe that Jen would have forgiven her for being late. It was the kind of person she’d been.

  But Matt...? She had no idea how he’d feel. All she knew from Jen was that he was a stickler for rules and regulations.

  ‘Erm...hello.’ She managed a smile, aware now that he had seen her at her worst. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’

  ‘I work here.’

  He did?

  ‘I’ve taken up Jen’s post. I needed to be working after—’ He stopped talking suddenly, his eyes darkening, and looked away.

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I did make it to the funeral. And I tried to stay, but...’

  ‘But your baby started to cry and you took her outside.’

  ‘You noticed?’

  He nodded, looking at her strangely. ‘I heard.’

  ‘I tried to make it back, but by the time she’d settled you’d all gone.’

  ‘That’s okay. I imagine you had your hands full.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you did, too. How are things with the baby? It’s Lily, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. They’re difficult. She’s teething. Not sleeping very well.’

  Morgan had just started teething too, so Brooke knew the misery of that. ‘It gets easier, they say. Let’s hang on to that.’

  He continued to look at her carefully. ‘We should show our faces, seeing as we’re both late.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes—yes, you’re right. Don’t want to anger the boss on the first day.’

  ‘You haven’t angered me.’

  Brooke blinked. ‘You’re my boss?’

  ‘I’m Clinical Lead, yes.’

  ‘Right...’

  She wasn’t sure what to say to that. The department had obviously gone through some changes she didn’t know about. Why hadn’t Kelly let her know? She’d mentioned they’d got some new eye candy in charge, but hadn’t mentioned who he was. Why not?

  ‘Well, I’m sorry I’m late.’

  ‘Why don’t you get changed and meet me in my office in ten minutes? There are a few new protocols you need to be aware of, and then I’ll assign you your duties.’

  ‘Sure.’ She nodded and smiled as he marched off towards his office.

  Her new boss.

  Jen’s husband.

  She looked upwards, as if to heaven, and muttered, ‘You had to throw me one last curveball, huh?’

  She shook her head in disbelief and pictured Jen grinning down at her.

  * * *

  Her first patient was a guy in his forties. When she called his name in the waiting room he stood up, one hand supporting the other. His triage card said ‘Query fracture left wrist’.

  Matt had assigned her to Minors. She’d gone to the changing room, got into a pair of dark blue scrubs. When she’d gone to put her own clothes into her locker she’d done a double-take, noticing that Jen’s locker was just as she’d left it. No one had cleared it out yet. Seeing it there, with her friend’s name still on it, plastered with pictures of Hollywood heartthrobs, had made her heart miss a beat. In a way she was glad that no one had rushed to empty it. It meant that Jen had been valued. Loved.

  Brooke had scooped her long brown hair up into a messy bun and set off to see Matt.

  He’d looked every inch an army officer, seated behind his desk with his straight back in his neat office, everything perfectly positioned and aligned. He’d clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and run her through the new burns protocols and triage assessments.

  Sitting there, looking at him, she’d wondered if the reason he held himself so formally in check was because he might fall apart if he relaxed. He seemed very stiff and distant now he was working—nothing lik
e his relaxed, friendly, affable wife, who’d thought nothing of draping her arms around the shoulders of friends, who’d positively warmed everyone with her wide smile and closeness.

  And then he’d said, ‘When you’ve dealt with each of your patients I’d like you to run your results past me before you discharge anyone.’

  Run her results past him?

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’ve asked you to.’

  ‘You don’t trust my judgement? I’ve been a doctor for many years. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘But I’ve never worked with you before, and though I’m sure you have a stellar reputation, Dr Bailey, I’d like to make sure that my department is operating at its optimum level.’

  So...the sympathetic father persona had disappeared the second he’d clocked on. He was all business, and Brooke had felt slighted that she wasn’t being trusted to treat a patient by herself, but would have to check in with Matt.

  ‘Fine—Major.’

  She escorted her first patient through to a vacant cubicle and got him to sit down whilst she pulled out a new file. ‘So, do you want to tell me what happened?’

  ‘Nothing happened. That’s why I can’t understand why my wrist hurts so much!’

  Brooke frowned. ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning? When did the pain start?’

  ‘I went to bed last night and my wrist was fine, but in the night I got woken suddenly by this intense pain in it—like lightning, it was. I sat up immediately and rubbed at it, and took some painkillers, but it was ages before I could get back to sleep. When I woke up it still hurt, and I noticed this bruising to the side of it.’

  Brooke peered at his wrist. There was some bruising to it—like a dark cloud. Not much, though. ‘Have you had a fall recently?’

  ‘Not really. I was crouched down loading the washing machine the other day and I lost my balance slightly, put out my hands to stop myself from falling, but that’s all. It wasn’t a fall, as such.’

  She examined his wrist and checked his range of motion. He could bend it and move it around without causing any extra pain. But he said he felt a constant burning sensation in the centre. She touched his fingers, asked if he could feel the sensation, if he had any numbness or tingling. He reported some tingling in his ring and little fingers. Capillary refill was good, and there didn’t seem to be any occlusion of the blood vessels.

  ‘I think, Mr Goodman, that you may have carpal tunnel syndrome. The pain waking you in the night is a classic symptom. But I’m going to send you for an X-ray just in case you’ve got a small fracture in one of the wrist bones, because carpal tunnel wouldn’t cause this bruising.’

  ‘Oh, right. Okay...’

  ‘Do you need any more painkillers whilst you wait?’

  ‘No, I can cope.’

  She scribbled her findings onto his notes and then filled out a small slip of paper. ‘Right, would you like to come with me?’

  Brooke walked him to the main corridor and pointed out a red line on the floor.

  ‘Follow that. It’ll take you to a new waiting area in Radiology. Hand in the form, they’ll take an X-ray or two, and then come back to the main waiting room. I’ll call you in when we’ve got the result.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor.’ Mr Goodman headed off.

  Brooke headed over to the doctors’ station to transfer her notes to the computer. Her friend Kelly was there too.

  ‘Welcome back! Finally got here, then?’

  ‘Yeah... Hey, why didn’t you tell me that our new boss was Jen’s husband?’

  Kelly smiled. ‘Because I knew how guilty you felt about not calling in on him, and I thought that if you knew he was going to be your boss then you would just fret for weeks about starting work and today was going to be hard enough for you! How is Morgan? Did she settle into the crèche okay?’

  ‘She screamed her head off, which caused me to get upset, and that allowed our kind new Major to take great pleasure in letting me know I’d sprung a leak.’ She patted her chest and raised an eyebrow at her friend.

  Kelly laughed. ‘Pads are in now, though, right?’

  Brooke smiled. ‘Pads are most definitely in. They might be the most unsexy thing a woman ever has to wear, but they don’t half make your boobs look good.’

  She pushed out her chest to emphasise their impressive size to her friend, unaware that at that moment Matt had come up right behind her.

  He cleared his throat and Brooke instantly hunched over and spun in her chair to smile at him, cheeks flaming. ‘Hi.’

  There was a ghost of a smile on his face. ‘How’s everything going, Dr Bailey?’

  ‘Erm...yeah...good, I think.’

  She could hear Kelly sniggering behind her and made a mental note to kick her under the table later. How many more times would she get to embarrass herself in front of him? So far she’d cried, leaked milk everywhere, worn poo-stained clothes and thrust her breasts out on show like an amateur glamour model. What must he think of her?

  ‘How are things with you?’ she asked awkwardly, trying to fill the silence.

  He smiled, and she briefly wondered why he didn’t do that more often. It transformed his face completely. He was a good-looking guy, but holding that stern, stoic I-am-not-amused pose did nothing for him. But smiling? Genuinely smiling? He could compete with the best of those heartthrobs stuck on Jen’s locker.

  ‘I’m good, thank you.’

  ‘That’s great.’ She smiled back, wondering what to say, what to do.

  Why was this so awkward? She didn’t normally have difficulty getting on with colleagues or superiors. Why was talking to him so different?

  In her scrubs pocket, her phone trilled. Not wanting to check her phone with him standing there, she continued to grin at him, waiting for him to say or do something.

  ‘Kelly, I’d like a quick word, if I may, when you’re free?’

  Kelly nodded. ‘I’ll be five minutes.’

  ‘I’ll be in my office.’ And Matt turned on a dime and headed off.

  Brooke let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. Then she turned to Kelly. ‘Wow. Way to go, Brooke. How come he calls you by your first name but calls me Dr Bailey?’

  Kelly grinned. ‘Probably because of my stellar good looks and beauty and because he wants to get in my pants.’

  Brooke gaped. ‘What?’

  Her friend laughed. ‘I’m kidding! We’ve been working together for weeks now—he knows me more than you. This is your first day. He’s just being polite. He hasn’t met you properly over a packet of chocolate biscuits and a good mug of tea in the staff room yet.’

  ‘And he has you?’

  In her mind she could still see him striding away. Tall. Straight-backed. Determined. A man on a mission. He didn’t seem the type to bond over a chocolate biscuit. Not with normal civilians, anyway. She wondered what he was like with his patients. Warm and fuzzy?

  I don’t think so.

  ‘Absolutely. You don’t know the man until you’ve shared your deep and darkest secrets over a good brew.’

  She sighed. ‘He doesn’t seem the type to do that. He seems quite standoffish to me. At least on duty, anyway.’

  ‘It’s hard for him.’

  Brooke looked at her friend sharply. ‘It’s hard for us all.’

  ‘He’s stepped into his wife’s shoes. Taken her post. And he knows that we all knew her, that we all lost her, and most of all I think he’s frightened of you.’

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘You were her best friend. Everyone here knows how close you two got. And when Jen did get a call from him, from the deepest darkest jungle that Costa Rica could offer, and got to tell him about her day...she talked about you.’

  ‘She did?’

  ‘Of cour
se she did. Jen loved you very much. She loved us all, but you the most. And he knows that of all the people in the world, you had a special place in his wife’s heart. Apart from him, you were the one who comforted her, who gave her a soft place to fall when he could not. Who looked after her as she carried his child.’ Kelly smiled. ‘You’re different to the rest of us mere mortals. He doesn’t know how to be with you yet.’

  ‘He doesn’t have to be afraid of me. We both loved her.’ All the sweet things Kelly had said had caused a lump to appear in her throat.

  ‘He’ll call you, Brooke. When he’s ready.’

  ‘He’s keeping me at a distance on purpose?’

  Kelly nodded, then grinned. ‘Perhaps he needs to.’

  Brooke gave her friend a questioning look. She was being ridiculous! She was no threat to anyone. Never had been, never would be. Men didn’t need to worry about her. They never had. Not her father, not Eric, not anyone.

  Major Matt Galloway was the least likely man she would want to get too close to. He was abrupt and controlling and...and...

  And she’d sworn never to have another man control her ever again. Not after the way Eric had become. That had been bad.

  ‘Do you need to wear make-up?’

  ‘Why have you put on perfume?’

  ‘I really don’t think you should wear that dress.’

  ‘Cover up more.’

  ‘Were you flirting with that guy?’

  She shuddered just thinking about him.

  No. Brooke was never going to get involved with another man again. They were too much trouble. Look at Eric! Look at her father! Every man there had ever been in her life had let her down. Walked away when she needed them the most.

  It had made her self-sufficient. Taught her that she could stand on her own two feet. Getting pregnant with Morgan and becoming a single mother had taught her that she could do anything, but most of all it had shown her that she didn’t need anyone else.

  And most definitely—most importantly—she knew that she did not need, or want, the approval or attention of her new boss Major Matt Galloway.

  ‘Well, he has nothing to fear from me. My heart most definitely has a “Do Not Enter” sign.’