The Nurse's Christmas Wish Page 14

  Suddenly Mac found that he had a lump in his throat. What was happening to him? He struggled to concentrate. ‘I want all his clothes removed so that we can do a proper assessment...’ He went through the moves like clockwork, part of him detached from what was happening around him. ‘X-rays.’ He glanced at Sue, his face blank of expression. ‘Let’s start with lateral cervical spine, chest and pelvis.’

  It was Christmas Day.

  All around the country families were getting together, ripping open presents, sharing joy, arguing and eating too much. Some people were on their own and longing to find someone to share the day with.

  For him it was just another day in A and E.

  Another road traffic accident victim to be patched up.

  He stared down at the patient on the trolley and suddenly all he could see was Louisa’s wide smile and all he could think about was her unshakable optimism and her generosity towards everyone and everything.

  Then he glanced up and took in the cold sterility of the resuscitation room where he seemed to spend most of his days. Harsh lights shone down on the patient, illuminating the cruelty of fate, the fragility of life. Chrome glinted and the paint on the functional white walls was starting to chip in places where it had been bashed by trolleys with sharp edges. The place was stark, sterile and cold. The last place that anyone should be spending Christmas if there was an alternative.

  And he had an alternative.

  * * *

  What the hell was he doing here when he could be at home surrounded by Louisa’s warmth?

  He shook himself and tried to concentrate again. Still functioning on automatic, he checked the femoral pulses. ‘Let’s do a serum amylase...’

  What was it that brought him here day after day? Night after long night?

  He pushed the thought away impatiently as he examined the patient’s peritoneum. What the hell was the matter with him? He loved his work and apart from the beach there was no place he’d rather be. That was why he was standing here on Christmas Day instead of lounging at home eating too much of Louisa’s undoubtedly delicious turkey.

  ‘There’s bruising over the abdomen, Mac.’

  He suddenly realised that they were looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to make decisions, give orders.

  Trying to ignore the thoughts clouding his brain, he did what was expected of him, going through the motions, relying on years of training and experience to guide him in the right direction.

  He didn’t want to be here.

  He remembered Louisa with her arms round a muddy Hopeful, worried to death that a strange, abandoned dog might be hurt. He remembered her offering to cook lunch for Alice and inviting Rick, a stranger, to bring his little girl to sit by their tree on Christmas Day. He remembered her in high heels and an evening dress, covering a badly injured boy with her coat while she risked hypothermia. He remembered the way she’d given herself to him without reservation.

  Something shifted inside him and the clouds in his brain suddenly cleared. When he’d been married to Melissa, Christmas had just been another day of work. And he’d thought that had said everything about the man he was.

  Now he realised that it said everything about his relationship.

  Louisa was right.

  He stared at the X-rays.

  ‘Call the surgeons,’ Josh instructed, his blue eyes fixed on his brother’s face and then moving back to the X-rays. ‘He needs a laparotomy and he needs it now. Mac, go home. I can cope here now. For once you’re supposed to be off duty. My gift to you is waiting at home and I think it’s time you went and appreciated it. Merry Christmas.’

  Mac blinked and realised that his brother was covering for him. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Go and eat Louisa’s turkey.’ It was an order. Quietly spoken, but an order just the same.

  Mac looked at his younger brother, the brother he loved, and they shared a look of complete understanding.

  It was finally time to move on.

  Mac stepped back from the trolley and ripped off his gloves.

  With a final look at his brother, Josh turned his attention back to the patient. ‘Bleep the surgeons again and let’s give him cefuroxime IV. What are his sats?’

  Mac walked towards the door without a backward glance. Behind him the team closed round the patient, each carrying out his or her own tasks.

  It was Christmas Day.

  And he was going home.

  * * *

  ‘I can’t believe he went to work.’ Her face pink from the heat of the Aga, Louisa blew wisps of hair out of her eyes and struggled to lift the turkey onto a different surface. ‘It means I’m going to have to carve and I’m useless at carving.’

  Alice looked up from her third glass of sweet sherry. ‘Well, I’d love to help, dear, but I’ve only got the one wrist and frankly I wasn’t that great at carving when I had two.’

  Louisa gave a weak smile as she transferred the turkey to a carving tray. Hopeful bashed against her legs, wagging his tail. She glanced down. ‘I suppose if I drop this, that will solve the problem of carving it. Get away, darling, I’ll feed you in a minute.’

  For her the sparkle of Christmas had dimmed the moment Mac had strode out of the house that morning.

  There was a ring on the doorbell and seconds later Hannah danced into the kitchen, a pair of antlers fixed to her blonde hair, her cheeks pink from the cold.

  ‘They let me off early!!’ She flung her jacket over the nearest chair, revealing a tight pair of jeans and a sparkly top. She cast a look over her shoulder and then looked back at Louisa. ‘Where is he? Rick?’

  Her eyes shone and Louisa smiled. ‘In the sitting room with Poppy. Go and find them.’

  She looked at the soft look on Hannah’s face and decided that maybe her Christmas hadn’t been such a disaster after all. She was pleased for them both. And it would be lovely for Poppy.

  Louisa was dying to ask how Mac had been but she didn’t dare.

  He wasn’t here, she reminded herself.

  That was all she needed to know.

  ‘It will be ready soon.’

  ‘Louisa, can I play with Hopeful?’ Poppy bounded into the kitchen, clutching a large bunch of mistletoe, Rick close on her heels, his expression brightening as he spotted Hannah.

  ‘Great to see you.’

  Hannah blushed and scooped an excited Poppy into her arms. ‘Shall we take that dog into the sitting room and play with him?’

  ‘I wish you would,’ Louisa said fervently, vowing that next year she was going to study the anatomy of a turkey so that she could carve the thing herself. ‘I can’t think about him at the moment. I need to do the sprouts.’

  Poppy screwed up her face. ‘I hate sprouts.’

  ‘You’re supposed to hate sprouts,’ Alice said happily from her seat at the kitchen table. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. ‘You’re a child. All children hate sprouts.’

  ‘You won’t hate my sprouts.’ Louisa checked the bread sauce, put the cranberry on the heat to warm and stirred the gravy. ‘We can eat in ten minutes.’

  ‘Great,’ Hannah said cheerfully. ‘I’m starving.’

  Alice looked shocked. ‘But Mac isn’t home yet.’

  Louisa paused, the hand that was stirring the gravy suddenly still. ‘He isn’t coming home, Alice,’ she mumbled, cursing under her breath as she felt tears clog her throat. Oh, she was so stupid! She’d frightened him away. She’d let him see how much she loved him and that had frightened him away.

  He was at the hospital again because of her.

  And hadn’t the whole purpose of her visit been to persuade Mac to share Christmas with the world? Maybe he would have done that if she hadn’t been so stupid as to fall in love with him.

  Josh would be so disappointed in her.

  She was disappointed in herself. Not for falling in love with Mac—she couldn’t have stopped that—but for showing him how she felt, for putting pressure on him when he so clearly didn’t feel the sa
me way.

  She was old enough to know that men could have sex, even tremendous sex, without feeling anything emotionally. To the best of her knowledge, Josh had been doing it for most of his adult life. She’d been naïve to think that it had meant something more to Mac.

  And because of her, because of the things she’d said, he’d gone to work when he should have been in his own home.

  She’d made things worse, instead of helping.

  Pushed him too far in her clumsy attempt to help.

  Swamped by guilt and worry for Mac, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

  ‘Poppy...’ Alice’s voice was remarkably firm, given the volume of sherry she’d consumed. ‘That’s Hopeful’s lead on that peg—just over there. Take him down to the beach for five minutes, dear. Daddy and Hannah will go with you. Wrap up warm. It’s freezing out there.’

  Rick glanced at Louisa and then at the old lady, saw something in her eyes and gave a nod. ‘Great idea. We’ll get some fresh air before lunch. Get out from under your feet. Come on, Poppy.’

  They vanished from the kitchen and Louisa and Alice were left alone.

  ‘Hannah and Rick seem quite taken with each other,’ Louisa said brightly, stirring the gravy vigorously and making a supreme effort to pull herself together.

  Life wasn’t about fairy-tale endings.

  She should know that better than anyone.

  Life was hard and challenging and full of things you wanted and couldn’t have.

  Like love and a family.

  Like Mac.

  ‘Now, dear.’ Alice’s voice was soft. ‘Leave that gravy to simmer, sit down at this table and tell me what exactly has been happening between you and our lovely Dr Sullivan?’

  Louisa dropped the spoon and turned to look at her, her expression stricken. ‘I did all the wrong things—said all the wrong things. I’ve driven him out of his own home. I wanted to make everything better, Alice, and instead I’ve just made everything ten times worse.’

  And she felt horribly guilty.

  Alice shook her head. ‘That’s not true, dear. You’re loving and kind. How can someone like you ever make anything worse?’ She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘We felt the same, you know. After his wife died. The whole community tried their best. It’s hard, you know, finding the right thing to say, and I don’t think any of us managed it. He thought we were interfering.’

  ‘I don’t think he wanted to hear it,’ Louisa mumbled, giving up on the gravy and rummaging in her sleeve for a tissue. ‘He didn’t think he deserved sympathy.’

  ‘Because he blamed himself.’ Alice sighed. ‘But he had no reason to. That was never a marriage made in heaven. Anyone could see that.’

  ‘Except him.’ Louisa collapsed onto the nearest chair and dropped her head onto her arms. ‘I’m so tired I could fall asleep on the spot. All I know is I’ve created this busy, noisy, merry Christmas and he doesn’t want it. I’m sitting here, surrounded by turkey and a tree, just dying for him to come home, and he doesn’t want any of it. He’s at the hospital, patching up patients. And it’s my fault. If I wasn’t here he could come home and enjoy Christmas in his own way. He wanted to be on his own and I should have just let him. But I had to interfere.’

  ‘And a good thing, too. You’re the right girl for him,’ Alice said gruffly, ‘and I know that he’s going to see that, Louisa. You have to hang on, dear.’

  Louisa shook her head despondently. Where Mac was concerned she’d run out of energy and given up hope, and suddenly she just wanted to cry like a child. She lifted her head and bit her lip.

  ‘It’s like making a cake with no recipe,’ she choked, struggling to hold back the tears. ‘I’ve got all the right ingredients but I’ve done something wrong in the mixing. He doesn’t want me, Alice. And nothing I do can change that. He doesn’t want anyone. Perhaps he never will.’

  With a cluck of sympathy, Alice moved round the table and scooped Louisa into her arms. ‘There, sweetie, have a good cry...’

  It felt good to be held and for a moment Louisa was tempted to just snuggle against Alice and have a good howl.

  But then she smelt the turkey.

  ‘I can’t.’ She gave a massive sniff and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘I’ve got a turkey to carve and I can’t do that with blurred vision. I can’t even do it with perfect vision. I’m hopeless with knives.’

  ‘We’ll do it together,’ Alice promised, and Louisa gave a wobbly smile.

  ‘You’ve had three sherries, Alice.’ She blew her nose hard. ‘Your carving will be worse than mine and, knowing our luck, you’ll end up in A and E, having chopped your finger off.’

  ‘Well, at least then we’d see Mac,’ Alice pointed out with a girlish giggle, and Louisa smiled.

  ‘I don’t think I want to go to those lengths for a date. You do cheer me up, Alice.’

  ‘And you cheer me up, too, dear. In fact, you cheer everyone up, and if our Mac can’t see that then he isn’t the man I know him to be.’ Alice gave her another hug and then sniffed the air. ‘You might want to do something about that gravy. I think it’s burning.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness.’ Louisa jumped to feet and hurried to the Aga to rescue the gravy, lifting it off the heat and pouring it into the jug she’d warmed in readiness. ‘OK. I can’t put this off any longer. I’m going to carve.’ She lifted the tray and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table. ‘Here goes.’

  ‘I think I might need another sherry,’ Alice said vaguely, as she stared at the bird.

  ‘Not yet, Alice,’ Louisa wailed, brandishing a knife. ‘I need you sober to help me with this. Do you like red meat or white meat? Not that it makes much difference, the way I carve. It all sort of merges together.’

  ‘Go for it,’ Alice urged, reaching for the sherry bottle. ‘I’m right behind you.’

  * * *

  Mac opened the door of his house and paused, a slight smile touching his hard mouth.

  From the kitchen came delicious smells and he could hear shrieks of laughter. And it felt good. His house was filled with life.

  And then he realised that his house wasn’t just filled with life, it was filled with Louisa.

  Suddenly he couldn’t wait to get her on her own but he knew how much she wanted to share it with her new friends. And her generosity towards almost total strangers was what made her the woman he loved.

  And he did love her.

  He knew that now.

  A smile on his lips, he walked quietly through to the conservatory, which was laid for Christmas lunch. There was something he needed to do before he told them he was here.

  Five minutes later he pushed open the kitchen door, his eyes taking in the scene. Alice was dancing with Rick, Hannah was watching them from her seat at the kitchen table and Poppy was chasing the dog, waving a piece of mistletoe.

  ‘Kiss me, Hopeful—please, kiss me—’

  A grin on his face, Mac reached down and grabbed the dog by his collar. ‘When a lady asks you for a kiss, it’s a good idea to comply. Sit!’

  ‘Mac!’ Delight exploding across her face, Louisa dropped the bowl she was holding and it smashed on the floor. ‘Oh, no! Those were my sprouts!’

  She was pleased to see him.

  More than pleased.

  The look on her pretty face gave him the biggest high he could ever remember having.

  ‘Oh, great.’ Poppy jumped up and down with glee as she surveyed the remains of the vegetables. ‘I hate sprouts. I really hate them.’

  ‘But my sprouts are delicious,’ Louisa protested, dropping to her knees and trying to clear up the mess. Hopeful stuck his nose in the mess and Louisa gave him a push. ‘You can’t eat these—you’ll have a stomachache.’

  ‘And my credit card can’t stand another trip to the vet’s,’ Mac drawled, walking across to the kitchen and hauling Louisa to her feet. ‘Leave the sprouts,’ he ordered huskily. ‘I’ll clear it up in a minute.’

  He wanted to kiss her, but he
knew that everyone was watching and she already looked flustered enough. He’d never seen Louisa flustered in the kitchen before.

  ‘What are you doing home?’ She wiped her hands on the front of her jeans, adorably self-conscious. ‘I thought you weren’t coming home.’

  ‘I heard that someone around here was cooking a turkey.’ He stared down into her sweet face and suddenly nothing in his life had ever seemed so clear. ‘Without sprouts.’

  ‘Actually, there’s another bowl of sprouts in the Aga.’

  Poppy groaned. ‘Oh, no.’ She flung her arms round Hopeful. ‘I wish I was you. No one makes a dog eat sprouts.’

  Mac stared at the kitchen table and did a double-take. ‘Louisa?’ His voice was faint. ‘What happened to the turkey?’

  ‘Me. That’s what happened to it.’ She pulled a face and gave an awkward shrug. ‘I told you that I’m not that great at carving.’

  ‘Carving?’ He struggled not to laugh. ‘You carved that? It looks as though it was caught in helicopter blades.’

  Her face drooped. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever really grasped the anatomy of a turkey,’ she confessed sadly. ‘I’m sure it will taste fine. It’s the same bird.’

  ‘It was a bird?’ Mac couldn’t hold back the smile. ‘I think next year I’d better carve.’

  He saw Louisa’s startled look. The question in her eyes. The hope.

  Suddenly he longed to drag her down to the beach and tell her that he was going to be carving her turkey for the rest of his life, but then he noticed Alice sway.

  ‘Are you all right?’ He frowned sharply and Alice gave a girlish giggle.

  ‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she said gaily. ‘Just enjoying a dance with this handsome young man.’

  Rick grinned and helped her to the nearest chair. ‘You’re pretty nimble on your feet, Alice,’ he said, and Louisa threw a pleading glance at Mac.

  ‘She’s had too much sherry on an empty stomach,’ she muttered, surreptitiously sliding the bottle away from Alice. ‘We need to eat before she passes out. Let’s get to the table and I can serve.’

  ‘I haven’t passed out from drink since I was a girl,’ Alice said cheerfully, flopping onto the chair, ‘so don’t worry about me.’