‘Um, something like that. Don’t buzz him,’ said Kate, suddenly excited too. ‘Why don’t I give him a surprise?’

He called out ‘Come in’ when she knocked but didn’t immediately look up from the report on his desk. Kate, rather glad of the moment’s reprieve, took in the sight of him in his cranberry-red shirt, black trousers and polished black shoes. His dark hair flopped over his forehead, his bone structure was as stunning as she remembered, and—

‘Kate.’ Having glanced up and seen her in the doorway, Kerr put down the report he’d been studying. He rose to his feet. His gaze flickered for a split second as he took in the scars.

‘Hello, Kerr. Surprise.’ Her heart was pounding audibly, Kate was sure. She’d had such a crush on him when she was fifteen; did those feelings ever really go away? More to the point, was Kerr currently experiencing them too?

‘What’s this about?’

Honestly, typical man-question. You and me, Kate wanted to shout at him. Why else would I be here, you berk?

‘Brought the lunch delivery,’ she said aloud. ‘Maddy gave me a lift into Bath. Thought I’d drop by and say hello.’

‘Maddy’s here?’ Kerr’s expression changed at once; you’d think she’d just announced that Madonna was waiting to see him in reception. Naked.

‘She isn’t here. But she’s absolutely fine,’ lied Kate. There was no escaping the disappointment on his face. ‘Fine. Well, that’s good.’

‘We’re fine too,’ Kate went on. ‘I mean, we’re getting on really well again. It wasn’t me who told Marcella about you and Maddy – she did tell you that, didn’t she?’

Kerr nodded. ‘It was the TV cameras. I know.’

‘Anyway, it’s great to see you again.’ Keen to move the line of conversation away from Maddy, Kate said, ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’

Ha, what was he going to say to that? Neither have you? To his credit, Kerr didn’t even attempt it.

‘Maddy told me about your accident. Nasty business. You’re lucky you weren’t killed.’

‘I wished I had been. When I saw my face, I wanted to die.’

‘That’s mad.’ Kerr shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter what you look like.’

Kate, her smile rueful, said, ‘Only someone who looks like you could say something as stupid as that.’

Kerr couldn’t imagine what Kate Taylor-Trent was doing here in his office. She showed no sign of leaving. In her ruffled white shirt and sleek beige skirt, she looked tanned and fit. Interestingly, the scars on the left side of her face in no way detracted from her air of glamour.

‘Remember your last year at school?’ Kate was saying now, smiling fondly at the memory. ‘Those school discos we all used to go to?’

Kerr could just about recall them but he failed to see their relevance. He had a dim memory of himself as an eighteen-year-old chatting up a group of leggy beauties from Ridgelow Hall, then discovering later that they were only fifteen years old. Then, the age gap had been vast, three whole years. Now, of course, it was nothing at all, but he still failed to see why Kate Taylor-Trent should have come to his office in order to blather on about their schooldays. The only person he was interested in talking about was Maddy, and every time he mentioned her name Kate swiftly changed the subject to something else.

When Kate at last left Kerr’s office, she knew it hadn’t worked. Back out on the street in the baking sun, she heaved a sigh and headed back down Marlborough Hill. That was it, she’d done her best and failed absolutely. Pulling out all the stops, she had flirted with Kerr with all her might and got nowhere. It had been like trying to flirt with a park bench.

Yet somehow, Kate realised, she wasn’t downhearted. OK, it was disappointing in one way, because she’d lusted after Kerr McKinnon for so long, but this hadn’t been the kind of rejection you could take personally or blame on your facial scars. Because Jennifer Lopez or Halle Berry or, well, pretty much anyone in the world could have given it their best shot back there in that office and found themselves faced with similar lack of interest.

Basically, unless you were Maddy Harvey, Kerr couldn’t care less.

Chapter 38

‘My poor baby.’ Juliet’s heart went out to Tiff, normally so full of life and bouncing Tiggerish energy. Kneeling by his bed stroking his hot forehead, she reflected that these days he had to be feeling really ill before he’d allow her to call him her poor baby.

‘Don’t go to work.’ Tiff’s eyes were half closed, his fingers laced through hers. ‘Stay with me.’

‘Sweetie pie, of course I’ll stay with you. I’m not going anywhere.’ Checking her watch, Juliet saw that it was seven in the morning. ‘Let me just give Maddy a ring. Maybe Nuala can help out in the shop.

Would you like some Ribena?’

‘I don’t know.’ Tiff plucked miserably at his Spiderman pyjama top. ‘I’m hot.’

It absolutely wasn’t a problem, Maddy assured Juliet on the phone, Nuala and her one functioning arm would be only too delighted to step into the breach, she’d go and wake her up now. And give Tiff a big kiss from her and Jake.

Making her way back into Tiff’s heavily curtained bedroom, Juliet said, ‘All sorted out. Here you are, sweetheart, I’ve brought you a drink.’

Tiff’s spiky head emerged from the duvet, his little face paler than ever. In a high voice he said,

‘Mummy, I feel—’ Oh dear. Maybe she wouldn’t give him that kiss on Maddy’s behalf just yet.

Predictably, the fountain of sick managed to end up all over Tiff’s pyjamas, pillow, duvet and undersheet.

Tiff whispered, ‘Sorry, Mummy,’ and the words squeezed at Juliet’s heart.

‘You don’t have to say sorry. It’s not your fault you’re poorly.’ Kissing the top of his head –

currently the only part of him safe to kiss – Juliet said, ‘Come on, let’s get you into the shower. I’ll give the doctor a ring when surgery opens, see if he’ll come and take a look at you.’

‘There’s sick on the carpet, Mummy.’

‘I know, sweetheart. I’ll clear it up in a minute.’ Stripping off his pyjamas, Juliet gave him a hug. ‘It doesn’t matter a bit.’

Jake popped his head round the bedroom door an hour later.

‘Maddy just told me about Tiff. Haw is he?’

Juliet, on her knees in the darkened bedroom stroking Tiff ‘s forehead, said, ‘Feeling lousy. He’s been sick a few times, you know the routine.’

Jake nodded; Sophie had succumbed to a similar bug at Easter. ‘Anything I can do?’

‘Thanks, but I’m OK. I’ll have Maddy and Nuala downstairs, they can bring me cups of tea.’

Drowsily Tiff said, ‘Is that Jake?’

‘Hey, look at you.’ Crossing the bedroom, Jake gazed down at him. ‘Not feeling so good, eh?’

‘I won’t be able to play with Sophie today,’ Tiff whispered feebly. ‘Mum, will I be better tomorrow?’

‘Of course you will. Full of beans.’ Juliet’s tone was consoling.

Tiff summoned a ghost of a smile. ‘Might have been the beans I ate yesterday that made me ill.’

At nine o’clock Juliet rang the surgery. As soon as the doctor had finished his morning clinic, the receptionist assured her, he’d be over to take a look at Tiff.

At ten o’clock Nuala delivered a handmade Get Well card from Sophie, featuring a large and ferocious bug with pointed fangs and many legs. Inside it she’d written: ‘This is what you cort. Love, Sophie XXX.’

At ten thirty Tiff woke up and was sick again, this time retching into the bowl Juliet held under his chin. Trembling violently with the effort, he clung to her and moaned, ‘My head hurts, my head hurts.’

Then, when Juliet moved to switch on the bedside light he flinched and wailed, ‘Turn it off, it hurts my eyes, I want it dark ...’

It was at ten past eleven that what up until then had been an unlovely but ordinary enough day abruptly turned into a nightmare. All morning, at regular intervals, Juliet had been checking Tiff’s body for a rash. Each time, encountering nothing, she had felt vaguely foolish for even allowing the thought that Tiff might have meningitis to cross her mind.

Now her heart turned over and her hands began to shake as she took in the dark red spots on his stomach. Where had they come from? What did they mean? Did they have to mean what she thought they meant, or could there be other causes? The glass test .. .

Slowly, Juliet reached for the tumbler of water she’d been sipping from, tipped the contents clumsily into Tiff’s sick bowl and pressed the side of the glass against Tiff’s skin, his precious baby-boy skin ... Oh God, oh no, please don’t let this be happening.

"S cold,’ mumbled Tiff, flinching away from the coolness of the glass.

Still kneeling next to his bed, Juliet ran feverishly through the options. Maddy was out on her delivery round in Bath.

Nuala was downstairs running the shop. The doctor was still seeing patients in his surgery.

Stumbling to her feet, she headed across the darkened bedroom and flung open the window.

‘Jake, Jake.’

Within seconds she saw Jake heading up the road, shielding his eyes from the late-morning sun as he gazed up at her. One look at Juliet’s face told him all he needed to know.

‘OK,’ he called out. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get the car.’

Too terrified to cry, Juliet watched Jake carry her son downstairs in his arms. When she was settled on the back seat of the car he carefully laid Tiff, by now floppy and pale, across her lap. Juliet cradled him, reassured him and sang to him while Jake drove like a demon into Bath. Finally reaching the Royal United Hospital, they screeched to a halt outside casualty.