Abby had asked her whether she wanted to invite her schoolfriends over for a party. To Abby’s horror, Emma had burst into tears. When she’d eventually managed to calm her down, Emma had admitted that the children at the school had been ostracising her for the last couple of weeks. Only her best friend had still talked to her.
‘But why, darling? Has something happened? You used to have loads of friends.’
Between tears and sobs of anguish Emma had explained that one of the girls had started taunting her about not having a dad.
‘I told them that of course I had a dad,’ Emma had said, indignant. ‘So they asked where he was. When I told them I didn’t know, they made fun of me. They said that I was lying or else I must be a rubbish daughter that my dad didn’t want to know me. I tried to ignore them but they kept coming after me, saying these horrible things.’ She’d looked up at Abby, her blue eyes swimming with tears. ‘I know you’re not my real mum, Mum.’ She’d smiled, realising what she’d said. ‘I mean, you’re my real mum, but not my birth mum. But you’ve never told me who my father is. Why doesn’t he care about me? Why hasn’t he ever come to see me?’
Abby’s heart had ached for her child. Although, as Emma had put it, she wasn’t her biological mother, Emma was hers in every way that counted. She couldn’t love her more had she given birth to her, and Emma being her twin sister Sara’s child simply made the bond closer.
‘I want to know who my dad is,’ Emma had continued quietly. ‘All the other girls at school know who their dad is, so why can’t I?’
Abby had looked into the stormy blue eyes that were so like Sara’s and a lump had formed in her throat. She’d known only too well how Emma had felt.
‘My darling, he probably doesn’t even know you exist.’
‘How can he not know? How could my real mum not have told him?’
Abby winced before she’d begun speaking. ‘Sara was very happy you were going to be born. I guess she didn’t want to share you.’
The truth was that Sara hadn’t wanted Emma’s father to know about the pregnancy. At least not until she discovered that she was going to die. It was only then that she told Abby that Emma’s father was Mac, the windsurfing instructor they had met while on holiday in Mykonos. When Emma was just three months old Abby went back to the Greek island to try to track him down, but it was hopeless. The summer season was over, and the visitors as well as the instructors had long since packed up and left. No one could tell her anything about Mac. Who he was or where he’d gone.
Before Sara died, Abby promised she would raise her daughter as her own. She had kept that promise and even though it hadn’t always been easy, Abby had no regrets. Emma brought such joy to her life.
‘I don’t want to stay at that school, Mum. Please. Can’t I go to a different school when I go to secondary?’
‘It’s not that easy, sweetie. Here in London it’s difficult to find a good school within walking distance. Let me try and sort things out with the school first.’
But despite several visits to the school, the bullying continued. It both angered and saddened Abby to see Emma withdraw more and more into herself, so when Abby saw an ad for an experienced paramedic for the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service, after talking it over with Emma, she decided to apply. Cornwall would be perfect for them. It was near the sea and would suit Emma’s love of the outdoors much better. They were both thrilled to leave London and its sad memories behind. Abby had promised Emma that as soon as they were settled in their new home and she in her job she would continue the search for her father. Little did Abby know then that fate was going to throw them directly in his path, sooner than either of them could possibly have imagined.
Abby retrieved the tattered holiday snap from the sideboard drawer. It had been taken on the last night of her and Sara’s holiday on Mykonos and Abby studied it for what must have been the hundredth time. It was a group photograph, taken on the beach. Mac had his arm draped around Sara, who was laughing up at him. She herself was at the end, a solemn figure with mid-length hair, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She doubted if Mac had even been aware that she was there. They had been introduced, of course, but his glance had slid almost immediately straight past Abby to her much more glamorous and fun-loving sister.
She turned to stare at the TV again, almost expecting him to reappear. She still had a week of training to complete before she started her job, so she had some time to think before she came face to face with Dr William MacNeil.
What was she going to tell Emma?
What was she going to say to Mac when they met?
What the hell was she going to do?
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY’S stomach fluttered nervously as she stepped into the base of the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service. Although she had been a trained paramedic for almost twelve years, this would be an altogether different experience. She would be flying to rescues and despite the intensive training she had just undergone, she worried how she would cope with being lowered from a helicopter, particularly in gusty weather. But she was here now and those concerns paled into insignificance in comparison to her anxiety about meeting Mac again.
Ever since she’d seen him on television she’d been agonising over what to do. What if he was married and had a family of his own? What if Mac didn’t want to know about his daughter? That hurt would be too great for the little girl. In which case should she even tell Emma that Mac was here? Did she have the right to keep the truth from Emma?
In the end she decided she wouldn’t say anything to Emma until she’d had a chance to suss Mac out for herself. After all, a bad father was worse than no father at all.
The air ambulance leader, who had interviewed Abby when she’d applied for the job, met her at the door. Paul was in his early fifties with an easy smile and a relaxed and welcoming manner.
‘Abby, we’ve been looking forward to you joining us,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy your training? The course leader spoke highly of you.’
The course leader might have spoken highly of her, but that meant zilch. How she would cope in a real-life rescue would be what counted.
‘What do think of Penhally Bay? ‘ Paul continued.
‘It’s lovely. I haven’t had too much time to explore yet—what with the course, getting my daughter settled into school and all the unpacking. But I promised Emma that on my first day off we’ll have a proper look around.’
‘It’s a great place for a child to grow up,’ Paul said ‘My kids have long since flown the coop, but they come back whenever they can. Is Emma liking Penhally High? Mine went there and they loved it. I can’t imagine it’s changed too much.’
Abby nodded, managing a small smile. If nothing else, their move here had been the right thing for Emma, at least as far as her new school went. Although her daughter had only been at Penhally High for a short while, she had quickly made new friends and already seemed much happier and settled.
So she was here to stay, and if life had thrown her a curve ball by flinging her directly in Mac’s path, so be it. There was no going back. But until she decided what, if anything, to tell him, she would play her cards close to her chest.
Nevertheless her
