style="font-size:15px;"> That he resisted her intention to pull her hand away was hardly surprising. This was a man who was very used to being in charge. It was only for a fraction of time. A single heartbeat. Just long enough for Jenna to be startled by a flash of what could have been annoyance. Or maybe resignation.
Something that she instinctively knew was not directed at her but was a result of him being just as aware as she was of the undercurrents swirling around them.
‘Come this way, Ms Freeman. I won’t keep you long.’
He led her back into the room in which she had been interviewed by the grandmothers. He ignored the pages of her CV still lying on the coffee-table, but Jenna had the impression he was already familiar with its contents.
‘So…Jennifer, is it?’
‘I prefer Jenna.’
The smile was definitely charming. ‘So do I,’ Paul said. ‘It sounds almost Italian.’
Then the smile faded and the gaze fixed on Jenna focussed sharply.
‘You’re a highly qualified nurse. Why are you applying for a job that will use virtually none of your skills?’
‘I…wanted a change.’
‘Why?’
Jenna took a deep breath. Talk about getting straight to the point. Fair enough, too. She’d want to know the motivation of someone she was going to employ to care for her child. There was no point in being less than honest.
‘Six months ago I applied for a year’s leave in order to care for my mother. She was terminally ill with cancer and I wanted to nurse her myself, rather than use a hospice.’ Jenna did her best to keep her tone calm and professional but she couldn’t help a small wobble. ‘Sadly, the end came a little sooner than expected.’
The face of the man facing her softened as she spoke and when he spoke, his voice was also softer. Deeper.
‘I’m so sorry, Jenna. I had no idea.’
Sympathy enveloped Jenna like a soft blanket. Unexpected and apparently so genuine she found, to her horror, that tears were not far away. She blinked hard. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Ella’s father could be this caring. After all, this was a man who had clearly loved his wife so passionately he was finding it impossible to bond with their child.
‘It was the right thing to do,’ he said approvingly. ‘Nothing is more important than family, is it?’
‘No.’ Especially when it was the last of any family Jenna had.
‘And you didn’t want to return to your hospital position immediately?’
‘I couldn’t. And it also seemed like a good opportunity to make sure it is what I want to do. Where I want to be.’
‘You have doubts?’
Doubts?
Of course Jenna had doubts about returning. Having to work in the same hospital as Simon, who would now be parading his new fiancée on his arm at every opportunity.
Paul would have understood, Jenna thought suddenly. Irrelevantly. He knew how important family was. He wouldn’t have ended a relationship because a beloved, sick mother was demanding all her attention. He wouldn’t have issued an ultimatum of using a hospice or losing him.
Her mother had given her a last, unintentional gift in a way. Saved her from staying in a relationship that could never have been good enough.
‘I need a fresh start,’ she found herself confessing. ‘And I’ve been thinking of relocating to Christchurch. I thought I’d get more of a feel for what it would be like to live here if I took a job outside a hospital.’
Paul nodded but then frowned. ‘I am a little concerned that there are time constraints on your availability,’ he said, ‘but, then, poor Danielle has had several changes already.’ He hesitated for a moment, as though undecided whether to expand on his comment, but then his gaze dropped to the papers on the coffee-table. ‘It would certainly be to our advantage to have someone with skills such as yours, even temporarily.’ His nod was decisive as he looked up again. ‘I want the best for Danielle. The job is yours if you want it.’
Jenna opened her mouth to say that she would have to think about it. That she had a few major reservations about a working environment that included the influence of someone like his mother-in-law. But it would hardly be politic to criticise his child’s grandmother and, in any case, Jenna’s momentary hesitation cost her the opportunity to say anything at all.
Paul was on his feet and the interview was over. A pager on his belt sounded as he opened the door for Jenna and he moved swiftly past Maria and Louise, who were still in the foyer, towards a phone on a small table.
Within seconds he was clearly in communication with a paediatric intensive care unit,
‘What was the CBC differential?’ Jenna heard him query. ‘Electrolytes? Ultrasound results?’
He listened for a longer time, seemingly oblivious to everyone else standing in the foyer.
‘OK. Sounds like it’s only a partial obstruction but I don’t want a three-day-old baby deteriorating any further. Get a consent form for Theatre signed. I’m on my way.’
With concise, well-practised movements, Paul was on the move again. He collected his briefcase, gave his mother an apologetic smile and made perfunctory farewells.
And then he was gone, as suddenly as he had arrived.
‘I’m sorry,’ Maria said. ‘It was obviously an emergency.’
‘I should probably go now as well,’ Jenna said.
A grandfather clock chimed.
‘Goodness, is that the time?’ Louise moved towards Maria, preparing to hand over the baby. ‘I have a dinner date tonight.’
Danielle and the toy giraffe were passed into Maria’s arms as Jenna turned to make her farewell, and at the sight of the small girl’s face, her heart lurched. Danielle was staring at the door through which her father had just disappeared. Her eyes were swimming with tears that had just started to overflow but she was making no sound.
What kind of baby cried silently?
Lifting her gaze, Jenna had the feeling that Maria was reading her mind and a snatch of their private conversation replayed itself.
Ella needs her papa. He needs her. He just hasn’t realised it yet.
And maybe he didn’t realise that a cuddle was a far more precious gift than a soft toy could ever be. Ella apparently had a whole zoo of stuffed animals but how much physical contact did she get with her only remaining parent? Not much, if any, Jenna suspected. How sad was that?
Louise was putting on her coat. ‘Same time tomorrow?’ An answer wasn’t expected. ‘Goodbye, Jennifer. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you find the kind of job you’re looking for in Christchurch.’
Jenna waited
