her as she left the hospital. It was the end of March and the weather still hadn’t settled down. There had been a mixture of sunny days interspersed with heavy rain for several weeks. This part of northern Lancashire was very beautiful but the weather certainly wasn’t predictable. However, even Laura, well accustomed to the vagaries of the climate, was surprised when it began to snow as she reached the end of the drive. She definitely hadn’t expected that!
Drawing the collar of her coat up under her chin, she hurried towards the bus stop then looked round as she heard a car horn. It took her a second before she recognised the driver as Mark. He drew up alongside her and rolled down the window.
‘Hop in and I’ll give you a lift. Looks as though we’re about to have a bit of a storm.’
He glanced at the sky and Laura realised that he was right as she followed his gaze. The sky had turned a funny yellowish-grey colour, indicating that there was a lot of snow on the way. She hesitated a moment but the thought of the long walk she had once she got off the bus helped her make up her mind.
‘Thanks. I appreciate it,’ she said, sliding quickly into the seat as Mark thrust open the passenger door.
‘No problem.’ He gave her a lazy grin before he pulled out into the traffic. Flicking on the windscreen wipers, he focused his attention on the road as he headed towards the centre of the town. The snow was coming down harder now, sticking to the pavements and turning them white. He didn’t say anything until he’d cleared the worst of the traffic which always built up at rush hour around the cenotaph. Then he shot Laura a smiling glance.
‘Right, where to? I’m afraid I can’t remember where you live from your job application.’
‘I’m sure you can’t,’ she replied tartly. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to.’
‘No?’ He shrugged lightly, guiding the car expertly around a vehicle that suddenly pulled into the kerb without bothering to signal. He seemed unfazed by the manoeuvre and showed no sign of impatience as he drove past, but Laura suspected that tolerance was an intrinsic part of his nature.
She brushed aside that thought, realising that she was making judgements about him which she wasn’t qualified to make.
‘No,’ she stated firmly. ‘I’m sure that you must have read dozens of applications for the job, so why should you recall my details?’
‘Hmm, modest, as well as everything else, Laura. Is there no end to your virtues, I ask myself?’ He laughed to let her know that he was teasing, although there was the strangest gleam in his grey eyes as he shot her a glance.
‘I shall take that with a large pinch of salt, Dr Dawson,’ she retorted, struggling to find just the right note of levity and inwardly sighing with relief when he grinned.
‘Oh, dear, I can see that I won’t be able to soft-soap you, Nurse Grady.’ He changed down a gear as they came to a junction, waiting while a lorry trundled past before he pulled out.
He continued in a more sober tone, ‘Anyway, as it happens, I do remember a lot of what you wrote on your application. Want me to prove it?’
‘That’s up to you.’ She shrugged, determined to let him think that it made no difference to her. However, she would have been lying if she’d tried to deny her surprise when he began to recite from memory.
‘Your full name is Laura Anne Grady and you’re thirty years of age—not that you look it, I might add.’ He gave her another quick grin. ‘You look a lot younger than that. It must be your hair.’
Reaching out, he ruffled the red curls at her temple then returned his hand to the wheel. ‘All those baby-soft curls make you look more like a teenager than a grown woman.’
He carried on before she could say anything, not that there was much she could think of, Laura realised giddily. The action had been so…so natural that it would have been impossible to object. However, that didn’t mean it hadn’t disturbed her…
‘You worked as a midwife on the maternity unit for two years before you left to have your baby.’ He shot her a quizzical look and she struggled to concentrate. ‘Didn’t you think about going back there to work? Good midwives are always in demand.’
‘I did. In fact, when I left to have Robbie I intended just to take maternity leave and go back as soon as I could.’ She shrugged, unaware of the slightly wistful note in her voice. ‘However, circumstances changed and I decided that returning to work wasn’t an option.’
‘Your son has Down’s syndrome, I believe,’ Mark said quietly. He must have seen her surprise because he smiled gently. ‘Rachel told me all about him. Robbie seems to have won her over all right!’
Laura laughed at that. ‘Robbie’s a real little heartbreaker! And I’m not saying that because I’m his mother either. He simply loves people of all ages, shapes and sizes, and they seem to respond to him.’
‘A very special child indeed, but, then, you so often find that children with handicaps are blessed in other ways.’
Laura felt her eyes fill. It hadn’t been all plain sailing since she’d had Robbie—all too often she’d encountered hostility from strangers who had seen the child’s handicap and been unwilling to look beyond it. But there had been no hesitation in Mark’s assessment and it had touched her deeply.
‘Thank you for saying that,’ she said quietly. ‘Not everyone can understand that.’
‘I can imagine. Even in today’s more enlightened times there’s still a reluctance to accept people with disabilities. However, I imagine that Robbie himself is the best antidote to that kind of thinking.’
Laura laughed at that. ‘You’re right. Once people get to know him, any prejudices they have soon disappear. Robbie has the gift of making people love him!’
‘As I said, a very special little boy indeed, and I can’t wait to meet him.’
He looked expectantly at her and Laura took a shaky breath. It had been less a hint than a blatant piece of angling for an invitation, but why? Why would Mark be so…so interested in meeting her son?
She had no idea but it was obvious that he was waiting for an answer so she had no choice but to give him one. ‘You…you’ll see Robbie when you drop me off. He’s at my friend’s house. Claire offered to fetch him from school each day while I’m working when she collects her son, Ben.’
‘Handy. I imagine good child-care arrangements are crucial for any mother who wants to return to work,’ Mark observed.
‘Exactly. That’s one of the reasons this job was so attractive and why I’d decided that returning to the maternity unit wasn’t an option. Babies have a nasty habit of wanting to be born at all odd hours of the night!’
Mark laughed. ‘The theory being that they arrive exactly nine months after they were conceived.’
Laura laughed at that. ‘I imagine that’s something no one will ever prove! Anyway, knowing that I could work nine to five each day was the incentive for going after this job. I desperately need to work, of course, but Robbie’s welfare has to come first.’
‘Well, I for one am really glad that you applied for it.’ Mark gave her a smile which sent a ripple of heat through
