LITMIR.BIZ

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of the right calibre to handle confidential information is never easy, and the last crop of applicants was dismal.’ He snatched up the phone. ‘Barber.’

      A job. My God, she thought, it’s a job, right here in my lap!

      ‘I could do it for you,’ she offered quietly as he hung up the phone. ‘I’ve done a similar job before.’

      He met her eyes, hope written ten feet tall all over his face. ‘Do you have the necessary skills?’

      ‘I think so. I can type, answer the phone, organise filing systems, use a computer or fax machine, do accounts, keep records—’

      ‘Stop! You’re hired. When can you start?’

      The phone, which had been briefly silent, rang again.

      She smiled and reached for the receiver. ‘How about now?’

      Hugh was so relieved that he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Since just after two, when Christine and her baby had been handed over to the care of the hospital, Woody had been ensconced in the snug in front of the television, he had been seeing patients and Judith—well, Judith had the place running like clockwork.

      It had taken her about fifteen seconds to ask the questions she realised she needed to have answered, and after following his patients out and explaining things to her a time or two it dawned on him that his contribution was entirely unnecessary.

      She was a natural. She dealt easily with the patients, she was warm and friendly but brisk enough to keep things moving; she offered a choice of two appointment times at the most, where the majority of people would have asked when they would like to come and given the patients enough rope to hang themselves. Not Judith. ‘Monday?’ she would say. ‘Ten-thirty or twelve?’

      And that was that.

      She was wonderful. She was also very distracting. He found himself thinking about her in entirely un-employer-like terms and often, after seeing a patient out and exchanging a few words with Judith, he would have to drag himself away to the next patient, conscious of sporting a silly grin but unable to do anything about it!

      Damn, she made him feel good. He found himself humming at one point as he went into the kitchen in a lull to tidy up after the pandemonium, only to find her in there, too, having already done it. ‘I was just going to bring you a cup of tea,’ she said with a smile, and left him in there with it while she went to check Woody.

      And Hugh, sitting down on the now-cushionless sofa with his cup of tea, hummed cheerfully and thought that life was pretty damn good. He’d solved his maternity leave problem, Judith was employed and therefore able to support herself and Woody, Christine had had a lovely healthy baby and they had all survived the experience. And he had managed to end up working alongside the most attractive woman he had met in years.

      Yup. Things were definitely looking up.

      Judith couldn’t believe her luck. She’d got a job! And not just any old job, either. She was working with people in a caring profession, which suited her much better than being trapped alone in an office all day or stuck at a VDU screen, tapping in numbers in a noisy, open-plan office complex, and she was in such lovely surroundings, too. From her position at the gorgeous antique desk she had so much admired she could see out into the front garden, which was a blaze of colour after the dry summer. The recent rains had started everything off again and the flowers were picking up, ready for the autumn flush. The roses were lovely, the Michaelmas daisies were just opening with brilliant spots of rich purply-blue against the green and the plants in pots and tubs around the door were full and lush and tumbling down towards the ground. Just sitting there looking at it all made her feel so much better.

      To be paid for the privilege seemed almost superfluous.

      As for the job itself, she was really enjoying it so far, and once Hugh had time to show her the ropes and introduce her to the computer system he used for patient records she could be of some real use in the little office behind his consulting room.

      It was a pity she hadn’t had time to grill Christine for some information, but she had no doubt that Hugh could fill her in. In the meantime she asked him if she had a query, dealt with the obvious and in the rare lulls she popped her head round the door of the snug and checked on Woody, lying stretched out on a big settee in front of the television fast asleep.

      Thank God she would now be in a position to pay for his treatment!

      It was a little after four when the peace and tranquillity of the big house came to a grinding halt. Utopia was shattered with the slamming of a door and the thunder of footsteps up the stairs behind her.

      ‘Hi, Christine,’ a voice yelled, and then the footsteps slowed, stopped and started down again in the other direction. Judith turned her head and found herself face to face with a boy of about Edward’s age. And there, she thought wryly, the similarities ended.

      He was a little taller, slim but muscular, and sported a superficial arrogance which she was sure was just a front. God forbid she should dare to mention such a thing, however! His mid-brown hair was just like his father’s but a little darker, his features were a younger version as well but the eyes were startlingly and exactly the same vivid blue.

      ‘Where’s Christine?’ he asked abruptly.

      Judith blinked. ‘In hospital. She’s had her baby.’

      ‘Blimey. That was quick. She was here this morning. Are you from the agency?’

      ‘No. I’m the mother of a patient, but your father—I take it Mr Barber is your father?’ she checked, just to be on the safe side. The boy gave a quick nod, and she continued, ‘Your father offered me the job as I was here and available. Incidentally, if you go into the snug you’ll meet my son, Edward. He’s taking up rather a lot of your settee, I’m afraid, but he’s messed his back up. That’s why we were here.’

      ‘Oh. Right.’ The boy shoved a hand through his hair in a perfect reflection of his father’s own gesture and turned on his heel. ‘I’m going upstairs—Toots is in the kitchen. Keep an eye on her, could you?’

      Toots? Who—or what—was Toots? And how was she supposed to keep an eye on her and watch the desk at the same time? Oh, well. She left the desk and went through to the kitchen. A little girl was in there, balanced on the edge of the worktop, rummaging in a cupboard. Judith didn’t want to speak for fear of making her jump and lose her balance so she stood by the door and waited as the child prodded about amongst the tins and packets.

      Finally she came out triumphantly with a packet of chocolate digestives clutched in her hand and jumped down onto the floor, the long fair hair which was escaping from a rather tired ponytail bouncing and swaying as she landed. Then she turned and caught sight of Judith, and instinctively and instantly hid the biscuits behind her back.

      Then with a total absence of guile she looked straight at Judith with those astonishing blue eyes and said, ‘Who are you?’

      ‘My name’s Judith. I’m the new receptionist.’

      ‘Oh. Where’s Christine?’

      ‘She’s had her baby.’

      The child’s head tilted slightly, and she suddenly looked a little fearful. ‘Is she all right?’

      Judith smiled and propped herself against the end of the sofa. ‘Yes, she’s fine. She’s gone to hospital to rest for a day or so. She had a boy.’

      The little nose curled. ‘Yuck. Poor Christine.’ She chewed her lip. ‘She is alive, isn’t she?’

      What an odd question. ‘Yes, darling, of course she’s alive.’

      ‘My mummy’s dead,’ she confided.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Judith said gently, one of her questions answered. ‘That must be hard. Do you miss her?’

      ‘No. She died when I was born.’ Which, Judith realised, explained the strange question. ‘I’m seven,’

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