remember the triplets. Your dad saved their lives.’
‘I know. He’s cool. But Mum didn’t think so. She hated his job. And she hated Christmas.’ Alfie looked puzzled. ‘I don’t get that, do you? How can anyone hate Christmas? Dad says it stressed her out.’
Finding it hard to feel sympathy for a woman who could leave her children on Christmas Eve, Stella leaned forward and hugged him tightly. ‘Alfie …’ she discovered that she had a huge lump in her throat ‘… this Christmas is going to be the best ever. I promise. And no one is going to be stressed out.’
‘If Dad has to cook a turkey, he’ll be stressed out,’ Alfie predicted, with insight beyond his years. ‘And I’ll probably be stressed out if I have to eat it. Dad is better at delivering triplets than cooking. He needs lessons. He’s going to advertise for someone who wants a kitten. Do you think I could advertise for someone to come and cook Christmas lunch?’
‘You don’t need to advertise. I’ll give him a lesson,’ Stella promised, kissing him on the forehead and then pulling a face. ‘Sorry—are you too old to be kissed?’
‘I don’t mind it,’ Alfie said generously, ‘as long as you don’t do it in front of my friends.’
‘I’ll remember that.’ Stella shut down her computer. ‘Have you made your Christmas list?’
‘Yes. And I’ve posted it up the chimney.’
Stella looked at him, unsure whether he still believed in Father Christmas. ‘And did he pick it up?’
‘It wasn’t there when I looked so, yes, I guess so.’ He picked up the tiny kitten and kissed it. ‘I hope no one wants the kittens. Then we’ll have to keep all of them.’
‘It would be a lot of work for your dad.’
‘I take care of them.’ Alfie tucked the kitten back on his lap. ‘I wish you’d married Uncle Dan.’
Stella thought, Me, too, but managed a smile. ‘Your Uncle Dan isn’t the marrying kind.’
‘I know. He thinks marriage sucks.’
Stella blinked. ‘Are you supposed to use that word?’
‘Probably not, but I know you won’t tell.’ Alfred slid off the chair. ‘If you don’t want to marry Uncle Dan, you could always marry my dad. Then you could cook the turkey. And be my mum. That would be cool.’
‘Being your mum would be cool,’ Stella agreed, closing her laptop. ‘But unfortunately your dad and I don’t love each other. Not in that way. And people who get married should love each other.’
‘You’d have to have sex, and I guess that would be gross.’
Stella gulped. ‘Alfie!’ she floundered, not sure how to respond, but Alfie had already moved on.
‘What’s his name? This guy you’re meeting?’
‘Edward.’
Alfie wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t like that name.’
‘It’s just a name, Alfie.’
‘Does he drive a cool sports car like Uncle Dan?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Is he in the mountain rescue team like Dad and Uncle Dan?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I’m going to be in the mountain rescue team when I’m old enough. I think it’s so great, going out into the mountains to save people. You get to slide down ropes and sometimes go in a helicopter. I’m going to get muscles like Dad and Uncle Dan.’
Dismissing a disturbing mental image of Daniel’s muscular physique, Stella gave a weak smile. ‘I’m sure you will.’
‘Last winter he went all the way to South America and climbed a mountain no one else has ever climbed. How cool is that?’
‘Pretty cool.’
‘Does your guy climb?’
Stella took a deep breath. ‘He isn’t my guy and, no, he doesn’t climb.’
‘He sounds a lot different from Uncle Dan.’ ‘Yes,’ Stella said breezily. ‘He is.’
She was counting on it.
CHAPTER THREE
THE weather grew colder still and the emergency department was busier than ever.
Which was good, Stella reminded herself as she worked her third double shift with no break, because work took her mind off Daniel.
‘I’ve never had a headache like it,’ the woman moaned, holding her head as Stella checked her blood pressure. ‘It feels as though someone is splitting my skull with an axe. We saw the GP yesterday and he said that we’ve all picked up this virus that’s going around, but today when I woke up I felt so bad I was scared I was having a stroke or something.’
‘The whole family has had the same bug?’
‘My husband John has been really sick, but he had the headache, too. And the kids feel rough. They’re supposed to be doing nativity plays and Christmas parties but they’re too ill to be excited about anything. I left them sleeping this morning. Billy wouldn’t even wake up when I went to tell him I was coming here and he’s usually the first one up in the morning.’
‘He wouldn’t wake up?’ Stella recorded the woman’s blood pressure, but something in the patient’s story made her uneasy. ‘Are you sure? Did you try waking him?’
‘Yes. This bug has totally wiped him out, poor thing.’
Stella looked at her for a moment, a suspicion forming in her mind. ‘And your husband?’
‘He was asleep, too. I wanted him to drive me here,’ Diana muttered, ‘but I couldn’t even rouse him so I had to catch the bus. Still, I suppose he needed the rest after being sick yesterday.’
‘Perhaps.’ Stella glanced at the clock. ‘What time did you leave the house?’
‘An hour ago. Eight o’clock.’
‘Right. Just wait there—I’m going to ask a doctor to take a look at you.’ She hurried out of the cubicle and bumped straight into Daniel.
His fingers closed over her arms, steadying her. ‘What’s the rush? Or have you suddenly realised that there’s only another twelve shopping days until Christmas?’
Stella didn’t laugh, partly because she was too conscious of his hands on her body and partly because she was still distracted by her patient. ‘I have a woman in cubicle 2 complaining of a severe headache.’ She pulled away from him, alarmed that even when she was talking to him as a doctor, she was still aware of him as a man. ‘The whole family is down with a
