Just what she would have expected. One short for the night shift on Christmas Eve. The same thing happened every year without fail.
Her mind drifted back to the night at smelly-cat-woman’s house. She almost cringed as she remembered she’d offered to do the night shift if she was a Christmas bride.
She could almost laugh out loud. Although the thought didn’t seem anything like as ridiculous as it had before.
Things between her and Brad were good—better than good. Her brain had started to rationalise things for her. Australia was one day away. All twenty-four hours of one day, but still only one day away from Scotland.
The more stories he told her about his life there, the more curious she became. But something else was becoming clearer to her. Just like it had when Brad had naturally came home to her flat the other day after his shift had finished.
She wanted to see him all the time. She wanted to be with him all the time. If he was on call and she didn’t see him one day, she missed him. Something that had hit her like a bolt out of the blue.
Cassidy had spent the last two years living life on her own. Her gran’s memory had deteriorated to the point she didn’t recognise Cassidy, and it had left her feeling even more alone than before. She rarely heard from her parents. But all of sudden it felt as if she had family again.
And having Brad around just felt so right.
She didn’t expect to be a Christmas bride, but she did expect to have Brad in her future.
She pointed. ‘Swap these two around. Lorna prefers her night shifts together. And I’ll cover the night shift on Christmas Eve. Okay?’
‘Are you sure?’ The clerk was looking at her through red-rimmed eyes.
She gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Yes, I’m sure. Now, just send it in and go make yourself a cup of tea.’
She went through to her office and made an uncomfortable call to the bed manager then walked quickly through the ward, helping the auxiliaries sit some patients up in bed for breakfast and helping another few patients into chairs. Luca appeared at her side and started reviewing some of the patients who had been admitted overnight. He gave her a smile. ‘I hear you’re leading a revolt up here this morning.’
She nodded. ‘Happy to join in?’
‘Absolutely. I feel as if I hardly got to see some of these patients in A and E.’
‘It was the same for my staff. We weren’t getting the chance to assess the patients properly before we sent them on.’ She looked up and down the length of the ward, which seemed much calmer. ‘I’m not allowing that to happen. We have a duty of care to these patients and I won’t compromise.’
‘Tell that to the bed manager.’
‘I just did.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Although she hates me right now, first and foremost she is a nurse, so she does understand the issues.’
The phone started ringing again, and since she’d sent the ward clerk off for tea, Cassidy leaned forward and picked it up. ‘Medical receiving unit, Sister Rae speaking. Can I help you?’
The words she heard chilled her to the bone, and she gestured frantically to Luca for a piece of paper and then started scribbling furiously.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as she replaced the phone.
‘It’s my grandmother. She’s had a fall at the nursing home—they think she might have broken her hip.’ She started to look around about her, searching for her bag. ‘I need to go. They’ve taken her to another hospital at the other side of the city.’
Luca stood up. ‘What can I do?’
Cassidy started pulling on the cardigan that was draped over her chair. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think at all. The rational parts of her brain had stopped working. Gran was in her eighties and had chest problems. How often did an elderly person have problems with the anaesthetic? What if this was the last time she’d ever see her gran again?
She started to pace up the corridor. ‘Michael, are you there?’
His head ducked out from behind a set of curtains.
‘I’m really sorry but I need to go. It’s an emergency—my gran. They think she might have broken her hip.’
‘Of course, Cassidy. No problem.’
‘You’ve got the keys to the drug trolley, haven’t you? Here’s the controlled-drug key.’ She unpinned it from inside her uniform pocket. ‘Can you let Lucy, Sister Burns from next door, know that I’ve had to leave?’ She was babbling and she knew it.
‘Cassidy, we’ll be fine. I’ll get some help from next door if we need it. And I won’t start transferring any patients until after lunch.’ He gave her a quick hug, then placed a hand firmly at her back. ‘Now, go.’
* * *
His pager sounded again, and Brad growled and rolled over. ‘I’m sleeping. I’m not on call any more. Leave me alone,’ he groaned.
But the pager wasn’t listening. It sounded again. And again. And again.
Brad was mad. Last night had been ridiculous. He hadn’t stopped—not even for a minute. And on the way to work last night his Mini had made the strangest sound then phutted to a stop at the side of the road. And all he wanted to do this morning was lie in his bed and vegetate.
He flung back the covers, squinting at the light coming through the blinds, and lifted the pager to his scrunched-up eyes.
‘Call Joe immediately.’
All of a sudden he was wide awake, his heart thumping in his chest. Joe Scott was his very expensive, US private investigator. He emailed Brad every few weeks, telling him any leads he was following and how he was getting on.
They had an understanding. Joe knew that Brad was a doctor, frequently on call, and had agreed that Joe would only contact Brad via his pager if something significant turned up. It had seemed the easiest solution as messages to a busy hospital could be lost, and depending on his rota sometimes Brad could be away from his house and normal emails for a few days at a time.
He reached for his phone, pushing in the number that was ingrained there.
‘Joe, it’s Brad Donovan. What have you found?’
‘Haven’t you read the email I sent you? I sent you some photographs.’
It took a few seconds for Brad’s ears to adjust to the American accent. Email. He hadn’t looked at his emails for two days.
He moved automatically to his laptop, his bare feet padding across the floor. It took for ever to boot up.
‘I’m just opening the email now, Joe,’ he said. ‘Give me a few minutes.’ He wasn’t sure what was waking him up more quickly—the shock phone call or the cold air.
The email took for ever to open. He could sense Joe waiting impatiently at the other end of the phone. He didn’t even read the content, just clicked on one of the attached photographs.
There she was. Blonde ringlets framing her face, dressed in a green puffy coat, throwing back her head and laughing. It was a beautiful sight.
‘Is it her?’ The US voice cut into his thoughts.
For a moment he couldn’t speak. She’d grown so much. She looked like a proper little girl now—a little lady even, rather than a toddler. His eyes swept the surrounding area. Alison was standing in the background, holding a baby. She was laughing, too. Melody was positioned on the pebbled shoreline of a lake and was clutching stones in her hands.
He tried not to let the rage overwhelm him. He couldn’t let that get in the way right now. This was the first time he’d laid eyes on his little girl in nearly two years.
‘Brad? Are you there?’ The voice was strained now, obviously worried by his lack of response.
‘Yes,’ he croaked. ‘It’s Melody.’ There was an unfamiliar sensation overwhelming him right now. It was a mixture of relief, joy, bitterness and excitement.
‘Great. I was sure I’d found them, but needed you to confirm it.’
Brad’s mind started to race. His eyes couldn’t move from the photograph. They looked to be out in the middle of nowhere.
‘Where are they?’
‘North Woods, Wisconsin. Lots of hills and dense woods, terrible phone and internet reception. Took the photo two days ago. You were right about Alison, she got married. Her name is now Alison Johnson. Married to Blane Johnson—a paediatrician in Wisconsin—and they have a baby daughter, Temperance.’