Assignment: Single Father. Caroline Anderson

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so I headed up here and camped with Jackie and just hoped your job was still on offer. Jackie’s an old friend from school and nurse training days, and I spent the night with her last night and went to work with her this morning.’

      ‘And rang me again.’

      ‘Yes. Then Josh Nicholson tried to talk me into working for him instead.’

      Xavier frowned. ‘Josh Nicholson? But he’s still in hospital, surely? He nearly killed himself, just a few days ago.’

      ‘Quite. Having seen him, I’m only too ready to believe that. Is he a patient of yours?’

      ‘Yes—and, of course, a well-known public figure. The news was full of it. But, yes, as it happens, I believe he is a patient, though I’ve never had to see him except for inoculations for foreign holidays and so on. He’s never been unwell that I’m aware of.’

      ‘Oh. Well, he doesn’t look so hot now, so you might want to stand by for an emergency call!’

      He laughed under his breath, then his eyes locked on hers again. ‘So this was only—yesterday, is that right, that you found the boyfriend and your flatmate together?’

      She nodded slowly. ‘Yes. It seems about three lifetimes ago.’

      ‘Well, that might be a good thing. Hell, I’m sorry. Was it serious? With the boyfriend?’

      She thought of Dan, frivolous and uncommitted, and shook her head. ‘No. It might have been eventually, I suppose, but, then, probably not. I’m not sure he had what it takes to be serious, and I’m not into casual sex.’ She smiled brightly and tried to inject some light humour into her voice. ‘So, anyway, here I am, utterly free, and scared to death.’

      She didn’t fool him for an instant. Instead of laughing, as he was supposed to, he smiled understandingly. ‘There’s no need to be scared, Fran. You have a home now, and a job. How long you stay is up to you.’

      She nodded again, and to her disgust her eyes filled. She looked away, blinking hard to banish the too-ready tears. ‘Thank you,’ she said, a trifle unsteadily. ‘Thank you for everything.’

      ‘My pleasure. More wine?’

      She dredged up a smile. ‘Do you know, I think I will. I don’t suppose two glasses will kill me.’

      ‘Probably not, although it’s pretty awful,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I just grabbed it in the supermarket on Sunday. I had a feeling this week would call for it.’

      He eased himself off the sofa and the dogs were at his heels instantly. Fran wondered a trifle hysterically if she should fall into place behind them, and nearly laughed aloud.

      She was losing it, she thought, and then inexplicably her eyes filled again. Don’t be an idiot, she told herself, but the events of the past two weeks caught up with her in a rush, and she curled over on her side on the sofa, buried her face in a cushion and sobbed as if her heart would break.

      She didn’t hear Xavier come back, but then the sofa shifted under his weight and he was there for her.

      ‘Ah, Fran,’ his voice murmured, and then strong hands were on her shoulders, lifting her against his chest, and his arms were round her, rocking her slowly against him, holding her safe until the storm of weeping was over.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed, and pulled away, scrubbing her nose on the back of her hand. ‘What an idiot you must think I am.’

      ‘You’re not an idiot at all. Here,’ he said, passing her a tissue, and she blew her nose and scrubbed her eyes and sniffed hard, burrowing back into the corner of the sofa in an attempt to retrieve her dignity.

      ‘Your shirt’s all soggy,’ she said unevenly, and he just smiled, a slow, crooked smile that nearly reduced her to tears again.

      She was shredding the tissue, so he took it from her and replaced it with the glass of wine, and she took a gulp and dragged in a huge deep breath and smiled.

      ‘Thanks,’ she said, her throat still clogged with tears, but he just shrugged.

      ‘Sometimes it’s better to let go,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve had a lot to deal with. Now, drink up and tell me what you like to eat, so I can go shopping tomorrow. We can’t have you starving to death.’

      How odd. The day before she wouldn’t have cared. Now, suddenly, she did, and it was all down to him.

      ‘I eat anything,’ she told him truthfully. ‘Usually everything, in fact!’

      ‘I’ll see what I can do. I normally call in at the supermarket on my way home for lunch, or do a big shop with the kids at the weekend, which is always a nightmare.’

      ‘Can’t I do that for you?’ she offered, and he shrugged.

      ‘Well—if you want to. I can get you some cash. Are you sure?’

      She nodded. ‘I’ve got hours between the end of my work in the morning and picking the children up from school, so it’s not a problem. Do you come home for lunch every day?’

      He nodded. ‘If I can, if there’s time. It gives me a little time alone to relax and think—unwind a bit. Don’t think you have to cook for me, though. I usually have beans on toast or something like that—something quick.’

      He couldn’t have given her a bigger hint, she thought. She made a mental note to keep out of his way at lunchtimes. ‘I’ll make sure there are plenty of things in the cupboard for you to choose from,’ she said, and wondered why she felt disappointed.

      How silly. ‘Right, can you tell me exactly what I have to do each day with the children—in fact, could you write it down so I have it in black and white what’s expected of me, so the kids won’t pull the wool over my eyes?’

      He snorted softly. ‘You obviously know kids.’

      ‘I remember being one,’ she corrected. ‘A new babysitter was a great opportunity not to be missed. I don’t suppose yours are any different.’

      His smile was wry. ‘No—and don’t imagine Chrissie’s innocent either. She might look as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but really she can be just as naughty as Nick, and she’s more devious. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not a bad girl, but she is a normal one in many ways. Don’t let her fool you.’

      The warning rang in Fran’s ears the following morning while she was rushing to get them ready for school and get herself to the surgery in time.

      So far, so good, she thought as she arrived only a minute late. Considering the wrangling and chaos and lost shoes and missing books, it was a miracle she was here at all, she thought, and having to put the people carrier into the tiniest space in the car park was a bit scary.

      She wasn’t used to driving such a big car, and if it hadn’t been for the lack of choice, she would have protested. She didn’t know how Xavier had got to work either. She hadn’t even thought about it, but he hadn’t said anything. She wondered if he’d want to borrow her car rather than walk—because how would he do his house calls after surgery if he was on foot? Still, surely he would have thought of that?

      Puzzled,

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