greasy smears around his mouth were a dead give-away.
Murray looked at Sarah once more as she placed the first batch of gingerbread men in the hot oven. ‘How’s the job going? Is it working out for you?’
She sat in a chair opposite him, leaving it to the children to finish rolling out the remains of the gingerbread mix on a pastry board.
‘I think so. It’s early days yet. My boss is watching my every move.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I think he’s worried I might slip up and inadvertently kill off one of our patients.’
James had not made it obvious that he was concerned about her ability to make the grade, but for the last week he’d checked everything she did, going over her charts and medication logs with a keen eye. Every now and again she would be aware of him assessing her actions, scrutinising the way she handled various procedures. She’d no idea why he was concerned about her abilities as a doctor, but in the past she’d always been headstrong and haphazard in her actions, and maybe he thought she’d breezed her way through medical school on a wing and a prayer.
Murray laughed. ‘As if!’ Then he sobered, glancing at the children, and added in an undertone, ‘Seriously, though, are you finding it all a bit much? You have a whole lot on your plate these days.’
‘It’s okay. I’m beginning to get used to the new routine. It’s just that …’ She broke off, her expression rueful. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, after a moment or two. ‘I don’t seem to have time to sit and think at the moment. Everything seems to be going at a breakneck pace—moving in here, the new job, finding a school for the children, taking on the internet work. It’s all come about in a short space of time.’ She straightened up and sipped at her tea. ‘I’m sure things will sort themselves out, though. Like I said, these are early days.’
‘Maybe it would help if I took the kids out for a while. That would give you some time to yourself—unless you’d like to come with us?’ He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘I need to head into town to pick up some hardware for my computer and I thought about dropping into the pizza place while I’m in the area.’
Sam’s ears pricked up at the mention of pizza. ‘When are you going? Can I go with you?’
‘Sure.’ Murray laughed. ‘If Sarah thinks it’s okay, that is.’ He glanced at her and she nodded. She’d known Murray for years, ever since they’d both taken part in a rock-climbing course at an outdoor pursuits centre. He ran his own internet company, working from home most of the time, selling sports equipment and accessories, advising people on how to keep fit, and setting up weekend sporting activities. She’d always found him to be reliable and trustworthy. The children would be safe with him, that was for sure.
‘That’s fine with me. I think I’ll give it a miss, though, if you don’t mind. I think I need some time to get myself together.’ It had been a stressful week, one way and another, and being with James every day had been harder to handle than she’d expected. She’d always known she should keep her distance from him, but now that she’d taken the job that was never going to happen. Every instinct warned her that whatever way she became involved with him, she might end up being hurt. He alone had the power to affect her that way. Emotionally he could leave her bereft.
She dragged her mind back to Murray’s offer. ‘I have to go and buy some groceries from the village store, and I could do with a walk along the clifftop and maybe even along the beach.’ She smiled. ‘Rosie and Sam never seem quite as keen on doing that as I am.’
Murray nodded and turned to look at Rosie. ‘How does pizza sound to you, Rosie? Are you in?’
‘Yes, please.’ She looked at Sarah and said hesitantly, ‘I don’t mind going for walks … not really … It’s just that …’ She broke off, her shoulders wriggling. ‘Mum used to take us along the seafront in Devon. Now … I get. I get all sad now when we go to the beach.’ Her eyes were downcast, and her lower lip was beginning to tremble.
‘Oh, Rosie …’ Sarah’s heart swelled with compassion, and she quickly stood up and went over to her. ‘I know how you must be feeling, pumpkin.’ She put her arms around the little girl and held her close. ‘I do understand. It’s hard … but you’ll see, it’ll get easier with time.’
‘We used to play football on the beach with Dad sometimes,’ Sam said, a wistful, far-away look in his blue-grey eyes. ‘He used to dive for the ball and then he’d fall over and we’d wrestle him for it.’
Sarah reached out and gently stroked his hair. She didn’t remember her father ever playing rough-and-tumble games like that with her when she’d been younger, but obviously he had changed, grasping a second chance of happiness after he had found her stepmother and started his new family. She felt for Rosie and Sam. They were going through something that no child should ever have to bear, but she was doing whatever she could to make life easier for them. It was difficult, though, because memories would come flooding in at unexpected moments, like this, putting her on the spot.
‘Sounds as though you could all do with a bit of cheering up,’ Murray said, coming to her rescue. ‘I think pizza with all the toppings will probably do the trick—and we could take some of your game DVDs into the store and swap them for those you were telling me about, Sam, if you like?’
‘Oh, yeah … that’d be great.’ Sam’s mood changed in mercurial fashion.
‘Rosie, you might like to check out some of the dance games,’ Sarah suggested, following Murray’s lead. ‘You have some pocket money saved up, don’t you?’
Rosie brightened and nodded, causing her soft brown curls to flutter and gleam in the sunlight that poured in through the kitchen window.
‘That’s settled, then,’ Murray said. ‘As soon as you’re ready, we’ll be off.’
After they had gone, Sarah cleared away and set out the cooked gingerbread men on racks to cool. A few were missing already, since Murray and the children had decided they smelled too good to leave until later. Sam’s pockets had been bulging as he’d left the house.
She looked around, suddenly feeling the need to go out and get away from all the jobs that were crying out for attention. Sam and Rosie would be gone for much of the afternoon, according to Murray, so maybe she would make the most of things and go and get some fresh air. The walk into the centre of the village would do her good and she could pick up some fresh supplies from the grocery store while she was there.
It was a beautiful spring day, with a blue sky overhead and patchy white clouds moving in from the coast. As she walked down the hill towards the seafront, past colour-washed cottages and narrow, cobbled side streets, she could feel the light breeze lifting her hair and billowing gently round the hem of her skirt. In the distance, boats were moored in the harbour, and closer to home fishermen tended their nets, laying them out on the smooth sand as they looked them over and prepared for the next trip out to sea.
Instead of going directly down to the beach, she took a path that led to a raised terrace overlooking the cove, and from there she gazed out across the bay towards the craggy promontory she had once explored as a teenager. It was some distance away, but she could see the waves dashing against the rocks, sending up fountains of spray to splash into the crevices. She’d gone there once with friends, and James had joined them. He had been on one of his brief visits home from medical school. He’d walked with her along the shore as she’d looked for shells buried in the warm sand. It had been a magical day, with the sun high in the sky and James by her side, a day that had almost made her dreams come true.
There was a movement beside her and it was almost as though by thinking of him she’d conjured him up. ‘It must seem a long time ago since you spent your days searching for crabs in those rock pools,’ James said, coming out of the blue to stand alongside her. He followed her gaze to the boulder-strewn beach some half a mile away.
She gave a startled jump, taking a step backwards as he went to place a hand on the metal railing in front of them. He quickly put his arm out to steady her, and then when she’d