sound of babies crying.
Dominic fought daily to save these precious little lives and so, naturally, he should be relieved to hear that mother and baby were well and doing fine.
And somewhere he was.
Yet it was buried deep in a mire of anger and grief, because for a while there he had thought that the baby born today was going to be his.
Dominic tried his best not to recall that first moment of truth—when he had realised the baby that his long-term girlfriend was carrying could not possibly be his.
But then his father spoke of the brother who had caused the second painful moment of truth.
‘Jamie’s thrilled.’
Dominic held in a derisive snort.
What had taken place wasn’t his father’s fault. Dominic knew that his parents simply did not know how to handle this.
Who would?
‘Will you speak to your brother?’
‘I’ve nothing to say to him.’
A year ago it would have been unfathomable that on the day Jamie became a father Dominic would have nothing to say.
They had always been close.
Dominic had been five when a much wanted second child had been born. Jamie was spoiled and cheeky and always getting himself into trouble, but the rather more serious Dominic had always looked out for him.
Or he had tried to.
Jamie had been run over when he was ten and Dominic was fifteen.
It hadn’t been the driver’s fault. Jamie simply hadn’t looked and had stepped out onto the street and on that occasion Dominic had been too late to haul him back.
It had felt like for ever until the ambulance arrived, and then Dominic had watched the paramedics fight to save his brother’s life. Later, at the hospital, as his parents cried and paced, Dominic had gone to try and find out some more. The doors to Resuscitation had opened to let some equipment in and he had seen the medical team in action, doing all that they could to save Jamie.
He had been steered away and sent back to the waiting area but on that terrible day Dominic had decided on his future career.
Jamie had survived and Dominic had really pushed himself to make the grades and get in to study medicine.
Family had been everything to Dominic—right up until the day he had found out that his girlfriend had been cheating on him with his brother, and that the baby Dominic had thought was his had been fathered by Jamie.
Jamie and Lorna had married a couple of months ago.
Dominic had declined his invitation.
Did they really think he was going to stand there dressed in a kilt, smiling for photographers and pretending to family and friends that things were just fine?
No way could he do that.
Not yet anyway.
‘We have to move on from this, Dominic,’ William said.
‘That’s why I’m in London,’ Dominic responded. ‘Because I have moved on.’ He went to hang up, yet there was more he had to know. ‘What did they have?’
‘A wee boy. They’ve called him—’
‘You don’t need to tell me,’ Dominic interrupted.
‘You don’t want to know?’
‘I already do.’
Dominic was named after his paternal grandfather, as was the Scottish tradition for a firstborn son.
The new baby, if a boy, had always been destined to be called William—whatever brother Lorna happened to be sleeping with that month.
Hell, yes, he was bitter.
‘Dominic...’ William pushed. He wanted resolution for his family but it would not be happening today.
‘I have to get on,’ Dominic said.
He didn’t.
Dominic’s working day was over, but he headed up to the wards, then to ICU to check on a patient.
All was in order.
Only he was in no mood to go home.
That would mean collecting his phone and seeing all the missed messages, as well as spending the night avoiding going online. Oh, he’d blocked Jamie and Lorna ages ago, and his parents weren’t on there. But there were cousins and mutual friends, and all would be celebrating.
A baby had been born after all.
* * *
‘You’re very quiet,’ Glen commented as he drove them back to the station. ‘Did MacBride upset you?’
‘Please!’ Victoria made a scoffing face and Glen grinned.
He knew firsthand just how tough Victoria was.
And she was.
Men.
She worked alongside them.
And, in her line of work, she saw a lot of them at their worst as the pubs and clubs emptied out at night.
Victoria had seen an awful lot.
She relied on no one and hid her feelings well.
But that tough persona had been formed long before she had chosen her profession.
There had been no choice but to be independent growing up, for there had been no one who had cared to hear her fears and thoughts.
She was outwardly calm and did not get upset about things others might. Even when she realised she had lost an expensive earring, she just checked the ambulance thoroughly and then called Paddington’s and asked Karen if she could look out for it.
‘You’re taking it very well,’ Glen commented. ‘Hayley would be hysterical.’
‘Well, I’m not Hayley.’ Victoria shrugged.
Sometimes, she could make life easier playing sweeter, careful of a man’s ego.
And sometimes she did.
Like now, as she went into the female changing room to get ready for her date.
She showered and then let down her hair and brushed it so that it shone. Wrapped in a towel she put on some mascara and lip gloss and then pulled on a gorgeous black dress and high shoes.
Sometimes it was nice to dress up, given that she wore overalls for most of her day. But even as she dressed, Victoria
