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of the play specialists, who were on duty every day, and who might help him amuse his daughter.

      Mette looked up towards the door, an instinctive reaction, even though she couldn’t see anything that wasn’t within a few feet of her.

      ‘Hi, Mette. My name’s Flora. May I come and visit you for a little while?’ Flora glanced at Aksel and he wondered whether his relief at seeing her had shown on his face.

      ‘Flora’s our neighbour in the village, Mette.’ He volunteered the information in English, and Mette displayed no interest. Flora sat down on the floor next to them, close enough for Mette to be able to see her face.

      ‘I work here, at the clinic. I’m a physiotherapist.’ Mette’s head tilted enquiringly towards Flora at the sound of a word she didn’t know. ‘That means that I help people who are hurt to feel well again.’

      ‘Where do they hurt…?’ Mette frowned.

      ‘All sorts of places. Their arms might hurt, or their legs. Sometimes it’s their backs or their hips.’

      Mette nodded sagely. She’d grown used to being surrounded by doctors and various other medical specialists, and while Aksel valued their kindness, it wasn’t what he wanted for his daughter.

      ‘Have you come to make me better?’

      The question almost tore his heart out. No one could make Mette better, and he wondered how Flora could answer a question that left him lost for words.

      ‘No, sweetie. I’m sorry, but I can’t make your eyes better.’ Flora pulled a sad face, the look in her eyes seeming to match his own feelings exactly. ‘You have a doctor of your own to look after you. Dr Sinclair is very important around here, and he only looks after very important people…’

      Flora leaned forward, imparting the information almost in a whisper, as if it were some kind of secret. She was making it sound as if Mette was someone special, not just a patient or a child who couldn’t be helped.

      ‘I’ve come because I heard that you were here, all the way from Norway. I’d like to be friends with you, if that’s all right?’

      Maybe it was the smile that did it. Aksel wouldn’t be all that surprised, he’d already fallen victim to Flora’s smile. Mette moved a little closer to her, reaching out as if to feel the warmth of the sun.

      ‘I have a little something that I thought you might like…’ Flora produced a carrier bag from behind her back, giving a little shiver of excitement. Mette was hooked now, and she took the bag.

      ‘What is it?’ There was something inside, and Mette pulled out a parcel, wrapped in shiny paper that caught the light.

      ‘Open it up and see.’

      Mette didn’t want to tear the wrappings and Flora waited patiently, guiding her fingers towards the clear tape that held it down. It peeled off easily, and Mette got the paper off in one piece, laying it carefully to one side, and started to inspect her gift.

      A rag doll, with a brightly coloured dress and a wide smile stitched onto her face. Mette smiled, clutching the doll tightly to her chest.

      ‘Why don’t you show her to your dad?’

      ‘Papa, look.’ Mette held out the doll, and Aksel’s heart began to thump in his chest. It wasn’t the gift that had made Mette smile, but the way it had been given. The way it was wrapped so carefully, and the warmth of Flora’s manner.

      ‘It’s beautiful… Thank you, Flora.’

      ‘She’s beautiful, Papa,’ Mette corrected him.

      ‘Yes, of course. Sorry. What’s her name?’

      Mette thought for a moment. ‘Annette.’ His daughter pronounced the name with a Norwegian inflection and Aksel repeated the English version for Flora.

      ‘That’s a lovely name. It sounds even better the way you say it…’ Flora waited, and Mette responded, saying the name again so that Flora could mimic her.

      This was all so easy, suddenly. Mette laughed over the way that Flora struggled to get her tongue around the Norwegian pronunciation, and when Flora stretched out her arms Mette gave her a hug. So simple, so natural, without any of the thought that Aksel put into his hugs. None of the wondering whether he was going too fast, or too slowly.

      But, then, Flora didn’t have agonised hope to contend with. Or the feeling that he didn’t deserve Mette’s hugs. Aksel watched as Mette showed Flora her toys, noticing that Flora didn’t help Mette as much as he did, and that his daughter responded to that by becoming more animated.

      ‘What’s that?’ Flora pointed to a box of jumbo-sized dominoes and Mette opened it, tipping the contents onto the floor. ‘Oh, dominoes! I love dominoes…’

      ‘Would you like to play?’ The words slipped out before Aksel could stop them. He wanted to watch her with Mette for just a little longer.

      Flora treated the request as if it was an invitation to a tour of the seven wonders of the world. Mette couldn’t resist her excited smile and gave an emphatic ‘Yes!’

      ‘Shall we do that thing first…?’ Mette took a few uncertain steps towards Flora, clearly wanting to know what that thing was. Aksel wanted to know too. ‘Where you stand them all up in a row and then knock them down again?’

      Flora started to gather the dominoes together, putting them in a pile on the floor. ‘It’s such fun. Your papa will show you, I can never get them to balance properly.’

      That was a ruse to get him involved. But Flora could manipulate him as much as she liked if this was the result. Aksel sat down on the floor, and started to line the dominoes up in a spiral pattern, seeing his own hand shake with emotion as he did so. Flora and Mette were both watching him intently, Mette bending forward to see.

      ‘Spirals, eh? Show-off…’ Flora murmured the words and Aksel felt his shoulders relax suddenly. Maybe this wasn’t so difficult after all.

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      When Flora walked out to her car, it was already getting dark. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended with Aksel and Mette, and the work that she’d expected to take an hour had taken two. That might be something to do with the daydreaming. Aksel’s bulk and strength and the gentle vulnerability that little blonde-haired, blue-eyed Mette brought out in him were downright mouth-watering.

      He was so anxious to please and yet so awkward with his daughter. Aksel watched over Mette’s every move, ready to catch her if there was even the smallest likelihood that she might fall. He meant well, but he was smothering her.

       Not your business, Flora. Dr Sinclair will deal with it.

      Lyle Sinclair had a way of taking patients or their families aside and gently suggesting new ways of looking at things. And Lyle would have the advantage of not feeling quite so hot under the collar at the mere thought of a conversation with Aksel.

      ‘Flora!’

      Flora closed her eyes in resignation at the sound of his voice. However hard she tried to escape him… When she turned and saw him striding across the car park towards her, she didn’t want to escape him at all.

      ‘I wanted to thank you.’

      He’d done that already. More than once, and in as many words as Aksel seemed capable of.

      ‘It was my pleasure. I always bring a little gift for the children, to make them feel welcome.’ She’d told him that already, too. They could go on for ever like this, repeating the same things over and over again.

      ‘I…’ He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘You have a way with children.’

      He made it sound as if it was some kind of supernatural power. Flora

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