Saved by the Single Dad (4 page)

‘Famished.' He looked at his watch. ‘What time's breakfast?'

‘Not for a couple of hours. We'll raid the kitchen.'

The kitchen was empty and she made toast while Jack made the tea. She rummaged in the cupboard, finding a couple of jars, and picked up two bananas from a crate in the corner. Then she led the way through to her private hidey-hole in the church porch.

‘What is that?' It appeared that instead of choosing what she wanted on her toast, Cass was going for everything.

‘Chocolate spread, then peanut butter and mashed banana. Try it; it's really nice.'

‘Maybe another time. When I'm planning on not eating for the next two days.'

‘A good breakfast sets you up for the day. You should know that; you're a medic.'

‘Yeah. Perhaps I'd better not mention the sugar in that.'

She shrugged. ‘I'll work it off.'

They ate in silence. His first slice of toast with peanut butter and his second with chocolate spread. Jack supposed that since he was going to eat the banana afterwards, he couldn't really poke too much fun at Cass's choice of breakfast.

It was still early and the glow of a new day, diffusing gently through the thick ancient glass, seemed to impose a relaxed camaraderie. Grabbing meals at odd hours after working most of the night. Talking, saying whatever came to mind without the usual filter of good manners and expediency. It felt as if anything could be asked, and answered.

‘Is there someone waiting for you when we get out of here?'

She shrugged. ‘Lots of people, I imagine.'

‘I meant a partner...' It was becoming important to Jack to find out about all the subjects that Cass seemed to skirt around.

‘Oh, that.' Jack wondered whether she really hadn't known what he was talking about. ‘Big red truck. Makes a noise...'

‘You're married to your job, then?'

She nodded, taking a bite from her toast. ‘You?'

‘I never married. And I don't get much time for socialising any more; when Ellie came along I had to make quite a few changes.'

She turned her querying eyes on to him and Jack wondered whether she wanted to know about him as much as he wanted to know about her. It was strangely gratifying.

‘Then you have a
past
? How exciting.' The curve of her lip promoted an answering throb in his chest which made it hard to deny how much he liked it when Cass teased him.

‘It's not that exciting.' Looking back, it seemed more desperate than anything. Desperate to find the warmth that was missing from his broken home, and yet afraid to commit to anyone in case they let him down, the way his father had let his mother down.

She gave him that cool once-over with her gaze which always left his nerve endings tingling. ‘Bet you were good at it, though.'

That was undeniably a compliment, and Jack chuckled. ‘I kept my head above water.'

Her eyes were full of questions, and suddenly Jack wanted to answer them all. ‘Ellie's mother was the daughter of one of my dad's climbing partners; we practically grew up together. I went off to university and when I got back Sal was away climbing. It wasn't until years later that we found ourselves in the same place at the same time, for the weekend...'

‘Okay. I've got your drift.' Cass held up her hand, clearly happy to forgo those particular details. ‘So what about Ellie?'

‘Fifteen months later, Sal turned up on my doorstep with her.'

‘And you didn't know...?'

‘Sal never said a word. She only got in touch then because she needed someone to take Ellie while she went climbing in Nepal.'

Cass choked on her toast. ‘That must... I can't imagine what that must have been like.'

‘It was love at first sight. And a wake-up call.'

‘I can imagine. Bachelor about town one minute, in charge of a baby the next. However did you cope?'

‘Badly at first. Sarah took me in hand, though; she got me organised and offered to take Ellie while I was at work.' Despite all of the sleepless nights, the worry, it had felt so right, as if he'd been looking for something in all the wrong places and finally found it on his own doorstep. He'd had no choice but to change his lifestyle, but Jack had done so gladly.

‘And Ellie's mother?'

‘She never came back. Sal died.'

Cass's shoulders shook as she was seized with another choking fit. Maybe he should wait with the story until she'd finished eating.

She put the toast down on to her plate and left it there. ‘Jack...I'm so sorry. She was killed climbing?'

‘No, she was trying to get in with an expedition to Everest. Of course no one would take her; there's a waiting list to get on to most of the peaks around there and you can't just turn up and climb. She wouldn't give up, though, and ended up sleeping rough. She was killed in a mugging that went wrong.'

‘Poor Ellie...'

Her immediate concern for his child touched Jack. ‘She's too young for it to really register yet. I just have to hope that I can be there for her when it does.'

Cass took a sip of her tea. ‘I have a feeling you'll do a great job of helping Ellie to understand about her mother, when the time comes.'

‘What makes you say that?'

She flushed pink. ‘Because you're very reassuring. You were great with Lynette last night. In between all the grimaces, that was her
I'm very reassured
face.'

‘Well, that's good to know. And what was yours?' He pulled a face, parodying wide-eyed panic.

Cass giggled. ‘That was my
I hope no one notices I'm completely terrified
face.'

‘Thought so.' He leaned towards her. ‘I don't think anyone did.'

‘That's okay, then.' The sudden glimpse behind the barriers that Cass put up between her and the world was electrifying. Her smiles, her laughter were bewitching. If things had been different...

But things weren't different. Ellie had already lost her mother. No one should feel that loss twice, and if it meant that Jack remained steadfastly single it was a small price to pay for knowing that no one would ever have the chance to leave Ellie again.

He took a gulp of tea. Maybe it was better to just stop thinking about any of this and focus on the here and now. ‘So what are your plans for the day?'

* * *

Crisis bonding. That was what it was. Jack wouldn't seem half as handsome or a quarter as desirable if it hadn't been for the floods and a long night, filled with every kind of emotion imaginable. A little sleep and a lot of coffee would fix everything.

Somehow Cass doubted that. But she had to tell herself something before she started to fall for Jack. Because, when it came down to it, his expectations were most probably the same as any other man's.

And she would never really know what his expectations were until she was in too deep. When Paul had first proposed to her he'd never mentioned children, but the pressure had started to grow as soon as it became apparent to both of them that there might be a problem. She couldn't risk the pain of trying again and being rejected when she failed. No man, not even Jack, could guarantee that he wouldn't leave her if she couldn't give him children.

It was better to accept being alone. And to concentrate on today.

‘Martin and I were going to go and visit Miss Palmer. She's eighty-two and won't leave her house. She's pretty feisty.'

He chuckled. ‘What is it about this village? It's like a nineteen-fifties horror film—some poor hapless paramedic washed up to find himself in a remote place where all the women are terrifying...'

He wasn't terrified at all; he was man enough to enjoy it. Cass grinned. ‘We
are
all terrifying. There's something in the water.'

Jack leaned back, his shoulders shaking with laughter. ‘I'll stick to bottled, then. And I don't much like the sound of an eighty-two-year-old on her own in these conditions. Want me to come along?'

‘Yes. Thanks. Maybe we can grab a couple of hours sleep first, though. And some coffee.'

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I
WONDER
IF
she's got any cake.' Sleep seemed to have made Cass hungry again.

‘Almost certainly.' Martin opened the front gate of one of a small, neat row of houses. ‘I gather that the Monday Club came round here yesterday, after your visit.'

‘That's all right then. What we can't eat, we can use to shore up the flood defences.' Cass stopped at the end of the path and Jack decided to wait with her, leaving Martin to approach the cottage alone.

The door was opened by a small, neatly dressed woman who might or might not be Miss Palmer. She didn't look eighty-two.

‘Vicar. Lovely to see you.' She craned around to look at Cass and Jack. ‘You've brought reinforcements, I see.'

Martin's shoulders drooped. Clearly, reinforcements were exactly what he needed.

‘That her?' Jack murmured the words to Cass and she nodded, turning her back on the front door.

‘Yep. She's...'

‘Cassandra!' Cass jumped and swivelled back to face Miss Palmer. ‘Do turn around, dear; you know I can't hear you.'

‘Sorry. I forgot...'

Miss Palmer pursed her lips in disbelief. ‘Well, come in and have a cup of tea. And you can tell me all about last night.'

‘News travels fast.' Cass strode up the front path. ‘They're calling him Noah. Eight pounds, give or take.'

‘Good.' Miss Palmer beamed her approval, leaning round to examine Jack. ‘Is this your captive paramedic, dear?'

Jack was beginning to feel as if he was. Captivated by Cass's smile, longing to hear her laugh. Wanting to touch her.

‘Yes. We found him washed up by the side of the river and we've decided to keep him. We've had him locked in the church hall.'

Miss Palmer nodded, enigmatic humour in her face. ‘Leave your boots in the porch.'

The sitting room was bright and frighteningly clean, with the kind of orderliness that Jack remembered from before he'd had a child. One wall was entirely given over to glass-fronted bookcases and another was filled with framed photographs.

‘My travels.' Miss Palmer caught Jack looking at them and came to stand by his side. ‘Papua New Guinea... South Africa...'

Jack studied the black and white photographs. Some were the kind a tourist might take, posed with landmarks and things of interest, and others told a different story. Groups of children, ramshackle schools, a young woman whose air of determination couldn't be disguised by time and who had to be Miss Palmer.

‘You worked abroad?'

‘Yes. I'm a teacher. I came home when my mother became ill and looked after her for some years. Then I taught in the school, here.'

‘And this one?' A colour photograph of Miss Palmer, done up in waterproofs and walking boots, standing on high ground. Next to her, Cass had her arms held aloft in an unmistakable salute to some victory or other.

‘Ah, yes.' Miss Palmer shot Cass a smile. ‘We climbed Snowdon.'

‘Miss Palmer raised a whole chunk of money...' Cass added and Miss Palmer straightened a little with quiet pride.

‘Surprising how much people will sponsor you for when you're in your seventies.' A slight inclination of the head, as if Miss Palmer was sharing a secret. ‘They think you're not going to make it to the top.'

‘We showed them, though.' Cass broke in again.

‘Yes, dear. We did.' Jack found himself on the end of one of Miss Palmer's quizzical looks. She was probably checking that he understood the point that she'd just made. If she could do all this, then a flood wasn't driving her from her home.

‘I'll go and make the tea. Make yourselves comfortable.' Martin sat down suddenly, as if responding to an order. Jack reckoned that any prolonged exposure to Miss Palmer would have that effect on someone.

‘I'll come and give you a hand.' Jack ignored Cass's raised eyebrows, motioning for her to stay put. He wanted to speak with Miss Palmer on her own.

She bustled, tight lipped, around the small modern kitchen. Jack gave her some space, leaning in the doorway his arms folded.

‘So. What are we going to do, then?'

Miss Palmer faced him with a look of controlled ferocity. Jack imagined that she was used to a whole class quailing into silence at that.

‘I had assumed you might be off duty.' She glared at his T-shirt and sweater.

‘I'm never off duty. I dare say you can understand that.' Miss Palmer didn't stop being a teacher as soon as she was out of the classroom. And Jack didn't stop being a paramedic just because his ambulance had been wrecked and his uniform soaked through.

‘Yes, I do.' She laid cups and saucers carefully on a tray.

‘Your friends are concerned about you. My job is to find out whether that concern is justified. To check whether you're okay, and if you are to leave you alone.'

Miss Palmer's set expression seemed to soften a little. ‘This house is well above the flood line, and I'm lucky enough to have electricity and my phone still. Is it so much to ask, that I stay in my own home?'

‘No. And I'll do my best to make sure that happens, but you've got to help me. If we can address any potential problems now, then that's a good first step.'

‘Is this the way you deal with all the old ladies?'

‘Yes, of course. Is this the way you deal with all your pupils?'

Miss Palmer smiled suddenly, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘A hundred lines, young man.
I will not answer back.
'

Jack chuckled. He could see why Cass liked her so much; they were birds of a feather. Both as feisty as hell, with a sense of humour. ‘Are you on any medication?'

Miss Palmer walked to the refrigerator and drew out a cardboard packet, which Jack recognised. ‘Warfarin. What's that for—you have a blood clot?'

‘A very small one. The doctors picked it up on a routine screening six months ago. I had an appointment for an X-ray a couple of days ago, to see whether the clot had dissolved yet, but I couldn't make it.'

‘Okay. When was your last INR test?'

‘Two weeks. I can't get to the hospital.'

‘I'll get a test sent over; I can do one here.'

Miss Palmer nodded. ‘Thank you. My INR is usually quite steady but...'

‘Best to check.' The Warfarin would be thinning her blood to dissolve the clot. The INR test made sure that the dose was correct. ‘Do you have some way of calling someone? In an emergency?'

Miss Palmer opened a cupboard and reached inside, producing a panic alarm.

‘Is that working?' First things first. Then he'd tell her that there wasn't much point in keeping it in the cupboard.

‘Yes, I try it out once a week.'

‘I want you to check it every evening. And I want you to wear it.'

He was expecting some kind of argument but Miss Palmer nodded, putting the red lanyard around her neck and tucking the alarm inside her cardigan.

‘I want it within reach at all times. Particularly when you're in bed or in the bathroom.'

‘You're very bossy, aren't you?' Miss Palmer seemed to respect that.

‘Yeah, very. But I'll make you a deal. You wear the alarm and let me give you a basic medical check, and I'll get everyone off your back.'

Miss Palmer held out her hand and Jack smiled, stepping forward. Her handshake was unsurprisingly firm. ‘All right. Deal.'

* * *

Jack had obviously been carrying out some negotiation in the kitchen. When he reappeared with Miss Palmer, carrying the full tray of tea things for her, it was apparent that they'd struck up some understanding. At least he'd got her to wear her alarm.

Tea was drunk and Martin excused himself, leaving to make a call on another family in the street. Cass concentrated on her second slice of cake while Jack busied himself, taking Miss Palmer's blood pressure, asking questions about her general health and checking on her heart and breathing.

Finally he seemed satisfied. ‘Congratulations. I can find absolutely nothing wrong with you.'

‘Not for want of looking.' Miss Palmer gave a small nod as Jack slipped the blood pressure cuff from her arm and she rolled down her sleeve. She liked people who were thorough in what they did, and clearly she approved of Jack.

‘I'll be back with the INR test, and I expect to see you wearing your alarm.' Jack grinned at her. ‘I might try and catch you by surprise.'

Miss Palmer beamed at him. ‘Off with you, then.' She hardly gave him time to pack his bag before she was shooing him towards the door. Cass followed, hugging Miss Palmer and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

‘Go carefully, Cassandra.'

‘I will. You too, Izzy.' She whispered the name. It was something of an honour to call Isobel Palmer by her first name, reserved for just a few dear friends, and Cass didn't take it lightly.

She followed Jack down the front path and walked silently beside him until she was sure that Miss Palmer could no longer see them from her front window. ‘All right, then. Give.'

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. ‘I've done a deal with her. She gets to stay as long as I'm allowed to satisfy myself that she's well and taking sensible precautions.'

‘I don't like it.' Cass would much rather have her friend looked after for the time being. Martin had offered a place at the vicarage and, now that Lynette was gone, there was more than enough room.

‘I know you don't. Look at it this way. What's important to her?'

‘Her independence. I know that. But this wouldn't be for long.'

‘That doesn't make any difference. Her community has still told her, loud and clear, that she can't cope. How do you suppose that's going to affect her in the long term?'

He had a point. ‘But... Look, I really care about her.'

‘Yes, that's obvious. And if there were any medical reason for her to leave her home, I'd be the first to tell you. But I'm not going to provide you with an excuse to make her leave, because taking away an elderly person's independence isn't something that anyone should do lightly.'

Cass pressed her lips together. Izzy had helped her be independent when no one else could. Maybe it was fate that Jack was asking her to do the same for Izzy.

‘Okay. You're right.' She pulled her phone out of her pocket and stuffed the earbuds into her ears. Before she got a chance to turn the music on, one of them flipped back out again as Jack nudged the cable with one finger.

‘So what's the story with you and her? She was your teacher?'

‘Yeah.'

‘And you stayed in touch with her when she retired?'

He seemed to see almost everything. Which was obviously a good thing when it came to his patients, but Cass reckoned it could get annoying for everyone else.

‘She was my teacher for twenty years. Still is, in some ways. I have dyslexia, and she took me on. I used to go to hers to do my homework after school every day and she used to help me.'

‘And she let you struggle a bit with things?'

A grudging laugh of assent escaped her lips. ‘She let me struggle all the time. She was always there to catch me, though.'

He nodded. ‘Then perhaps that's your answer.' He picked up the earbud, which dangled on its lead against the front of her jacket, and gently put it back into her ear. Cass pretended not to notice the intimacy of it, but shivered just the same.

It appeared that even though the crisis was over, the bonding part wasn't. And wanting him, wanting Jack's strength and his warmth, would only end badly. She and Paul had tried for two years to have children, and by the end of it she'd been a wreck. Sex had become a chore instead of a pleasure and Cass had felt herself dying inside, unable to respond to a touch.

Worst of all, she'd become fearful. Afraid of a future that seemed to depend on her being able to have a child, and hardly daring to get out of bed on the mornings when her period was due. Fearful of the heartbreak that had come anyway, when Paul had left her.

That fear had paralysed her whenever she'd even thought about starting a new relationship, because any man would be sure to react in the same way as Paul had. So Cass had turned to the parts of her life where she'd already proved she could succeed. Her job. Taking care of her family and friends. Overcoming her dyslexia. If wanting Jack brought her loneliness into sharp focus then he would be gone soon, and the feeling would pass.

* * *

Cass had withdrawn into silence as they'd trudged back to the church hall. The weather was getting worse, rain drumming against the windows, and when Cass didn't show up for lunch Jack wondered if there was something wrong. It seemed almost as if the violence of the storm might be some response to the unspoken emotions of a goddess.

Nonsense. She might look like an ethereal being but she was all woman. Tough and proud on the outside but with a kernel of soft warmth that showed itself just briefly, from time to time. Each time he saw it, the urge to see it again became greater.

And that was nonsense too. His own childhood had been marred by loss and he wanted no more of it, not for himself or for Ellie. The uncertain reward didn't justify the risk, even if he did crave the sunshine of Cass's smile.

Cups and saucers were filled and the lines of diners started to break up into small groups, talking over their coffee. At the other end of the hall, Martin was on his feet, talking intently to a man who had hurried in, a small group forming around them. Someone walked out of the hall and Jack heard Cass's name being called.

Ripples of concern were spreading through the community, people looking up from their conversations and falling quiet. Jack stood up, walking across to Martin.

‘What's going on?'

‘Ah, Jack.' Martin's face was creased with anxiety. ‘We've got a lost child...'

Activity from outside the hall caught Jack's attention. The shine of red hair through the obscure glass of the doors and then Cass was there, the man who had gone to fetch her still talking quickly to her, obviously apprising her of the situation.