LITMIR.BIZ

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been knocked over. Not really blonde, exactly—more like a pale redhead. Different...

      There were a lot of people who wanted to talk to Theo and Ryan found himself left with Marco.

      ‘That’s Alice Baxter.’ Marco pointed out a slender woman with strikingly pale blonde hair. ‘My boss.’

      Ryan’s eyebrows rose at something in his tone. ‘Oh?’ Good grief, this hospital had only been up and running for a short time. Were there politics going on already?

      ‘She’s bossy.’ But Marco’s smile was charming enough to suggest that this might not be a criticism. ‘I’m waiting to find out if she’ll loosen up a bit after a glass of champagne, perhaps.’

      ‘So who else is here from the surgical team?’

      ‘Hmm...’ Marco looked around. ‘Finn Morgan should be here, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he isn’t. I’ve never seen him at a social event.’

      ‘Are there a lot of them?’

      ‘Not really. But I’m sure there’ll be more as we get closer to Christmas. So, what would you like to know about Hope Hospital?’

      ‘Tell me about ICU,’ Ryan said. ‘I can do my best in Theatre but the standard of aftercare is obviously critical to the best outcome.’

      ‘Oh, you’ll be impressed. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the head of the department. She’ll want to meet you, as well. I think I spotted her a while back, on the other side of the dance floor.’

      Ryan followed Marco, smiling at people as they nudged their way through the crowd and pausing to provide his name to a woman with a photographer who’d just snapped his picture. His work with children’s charities made this a familiar environment and no doubt he’d be meeting some of these people again soon enough. He already had tickets to a charity ball in London in a few weeks’ time. He was happy enough to be starting his new position with a party but what Ryan was really looking forward to was the peace and quiet of an operating theatre and being able to focus on what he did best.

      Mending broken little hearts.

      * * *

      It felt peaceful already.

      The main ICU reception area was not staffed at this time of night. Administration tasks could wait until normal working hours and visitors were restricted so Evie’s work station was deserted and the lights dim.

      That wasn’t where she was heading, however. Behind Reception was a corridor that led to the staffroom, departmental library, overnight bedrooms, changing rooms and showers. She used her coded lanyard to gain access to the female changing rooms and paused by the shelves just inside the door, choosing her size in the teddy bear printed scrub trousers and tunic top. Getting changed, she realised just how bad the rip in her skirt was. Maybe she would ask Janine, the nurse manager who was on tonight, if it would be okay if she wore the scrubs home tonight.

      Moving towards the mirrors, Evie found a hairbrush in her bag and dealt with the mess of her hair, brushing it smooth and then braiding it into a simple plait to hang halfway down her back. It was only as she looped the tie around the end of the braid that she realised what was odd about her reflection and she froze in horror.

      Where was her necklace?

      Her touchstone?

      Desperately, Evie tried to think of where she might have lost it. Not long ago, that was certain, because she remembered the feel of it below her fingers when she’d been talking to Theo.

      Her fingers were resting on bare skin now, the image of Theo in his tuxedo in her mind. Then she remembered another figure in a tux. Helping her up from the ground. That fall had done more than rip her skirt, obviously. Somehow the necklace must have caught and the chain had been broken.

      Evie breathed out slowly, resisting the impulse to change back out of the scrubs and go looking for the necklace right now. It was a staff car park and the only value of the jewellery was sentimental so if someone found it, surely they would hand it in to the main reception desk? And if nobody had noticed it in the dark, which was more likely, it would still be there when she went back to her car.

      This time was precious, too, because it was Evie’s favourite thing in the world to do and she knew that others appreciated her efforts.

      She was good at it, as well.

      Janine gave her a smile of welcome that made her feel special as she buzzed herself through the main doors of the ICU.

      ‘It’s our baby whisperer. No way... I was just saying that it was a shame you were busy at the gala tonight.’

      ‘I decided I’d rather do some cuddling. Is that okay?’

      ‘Are you kidding? You must have known you were needed. Baby Alfie’s mum had to go home to the rest of the kids and he just won’t settle. Come right this way...’

      Beside each oval crib or incubator here was a comfortable chair with a padded seat and back but designed to look like an old-fashioned rocking chair, complete with rockers. It was a distinctive touch that added to the unique atmosphere of this high-tech unit, rather like the sun rays set into the flooring, and it was much loved by the stressed parents who spent time with their babies here. Staff rarely had the time to sit for long to comfort the tiny patients whose parents couldn’t be here and Alfie was a prime example. Born early enough to need his breathing carefully monitored but not in need of any major interventions, his distressed whimpering had not been silenced by ventilation tubes or sedation and all he really needed at the moment was a cuddle.

      Evie settled herself in the chair and Janine took the tiny bundle, swaddled in a blanket with a woolly hat on his head, and put him into Evie’s arms.

      ‘He’s been fed and changed recently so he just needs to sleep,’ Janine whispered. ‘Work your magic, Evie.’

      The magic needed to work both ways tonight, Evie thought, stroking the tiny screwed-up face with a gentle finger.

      ‘Shh...shh...shh...it’s okay, Alfie... Everything’s okay...’

      She cradled the baby, rocking slowly in the chair and making soft, soothing and often nonsensical conversation with this tiny person.

      Around her, staff members worked quietly with the more serious cases under their care. A doctor came for one of them and Evie noticed an incubator being wheeled away, probably to the procedures room. She sent silent good wishes along with the entourage.

      The beeping of the equipment was muted, voices were kept low and the lighting was as dim as it could be to still allow staff to work. Alfie’s whimpering was already becoming just the occasional snuffle and squeak and Evie closed her eyes, aware of nothing more than the weight and warmth of this precious bundle.

      It was a kind of meditation and she could actually feel her own heart rate and breathing slowing. The stress of an overly busy day, the never-ending pressure from her family, even the fright of that fall in the car park and that disconcertingly intense scrutiny that stranger had given her were receding as noticeably as an outgoing tide.

      This was Evie’s time.

      But, like all good things, it had to end. Whatever crisis had occurred in the unit had been dealt with and Janine finally returned. Alfie had been sound asleep for a long time but Evie would have stayed there much longer if she could have.

      ‘You need to go home.’ Janine smiled. ‘You’ve got work in the morning, remember? And Alfie needs to sleep on his apnoea mattress. Just in case.’

      ‘Of course.’ Evie’s arms felt empty as Janine lifted the baby. ‘Anyone else need a cuddle?’

      Janine shook her head. ‘Next time.’

      Evie watched as Alfie was settled into the incubator and the monitors checked and then she followed Janine back to the central station.

      ‘Would it be okay if I brought the scrubs back in the morning? I had a bit of an accident

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