had found someone to talk to in Jon, then Chloe couldn’t see how. He seemed somehow distant, as if Amy was the only person in the room he could trust with an unreserved smile.
‘Then you’ll know that Hannah’s...vulnerable.’ Chloe twisted her lips. Vulnerable wasn’t quite the right word. Hannah could be surprisingly strong and very determined. But she was young. Troubled sometimes.
‘I know that she’s almost ten years younger than you, and that she was only nine when you lost both your parents. That you and James have done your best to look after her, but it hasn’t always been easy.’
‘No, it hasn’t.’ Chloe hadn’t made it any easier. Hannah had always wanted to live with her, and Chloe had worked hard, saving every penny she could and adding to her third of the money from the sale of their parents’ house so that she could afford a home for the two of them. She’d bought the house, and then two months after they’d moved in Chloe had fallen ill. Hannah had gone to live with James instead, but had never really settled.
‘Look, Hannah’s okay for the moment.’
Okay for the moment. Most people had learned to settle for that where Hannah was concerned, but Chloe wanted more for her sister.
‘You do know that Hannah’s still only eighteen? And that Amy’s father isn’t on the scene?’ Hannah had run away two weeks before her sixteenth birthday. Chloe had been too ill to do anything but worry, while James had moved heaven and earth to find their sister. When he had, she’d been living with a boy of nineteen, who had been more than eager to give her up when James had wondered aloud whether Hannah’s queasy spells might be morning sickness.
‘Yes, I know. She’s all right.’ It seemed that Chloe was going to have to take his word for it, because Jon’s face showed no evidence that he really understood the gravity of the situation. His whole attention was focussed on Amy.
‘I’d just feel a bit better if she were here and I could see for myself.’ Her words sounded rather more accusing than Chloe had meant them to.
‘I felt that Amy needed to be looked at sooner rather than later, and that was my first priority. Hannah calmed down when she saw I was taking her concerns seriously and promised to stay put while I was gone.’
‘Yes...I’m sorry. Thanks.’ None of this was Jon’s fault. Hannah had put him in a difficult position and he’d taken the only decision he could. Chloe stretched her arms out towards Amy. ‘I’ll take her now.’
He didn’t move. ‘Why don’t you let me examine her? I can do it now—my shift won’t be starting for another three hours.’
‘And you’re better qualified than me?’ There was something he wasn’t saying, and Chloe guessed it might be that. It was true, after all. Jon’s speciality was paediatric emergencies, and even though he’d only been here a couple of weeks he was already gaining something of a reputation as an excellent doctor.
‘Yes, I am. And I’m not Amy’s aunt.’ He said the words dispassionately. ‘I dare say you’re a lot better at dealing with Hannah than I am. Why don’t you give her a call, while I fetch my stethoscope from my locker?’
Maybe he was just giving her something to do to keep her quiet, because it seemed that he had already come to some kind of agreement with Hannah. But he was right. Chloe nodded and Jon delivered Amy into her arms.
‘She’s two years old. All of her immunisations are up to date and she’s on no medication.’ If she was going to take up the role of concerned aunt then she may as well give Jon all the relevant information. And ask the relevant questions. ‘What do you think?’
‘I don’t know anything for sure yet.’ He got to his feet and walked out of the room, without looking back.
* * *
Jon had woken to the sound of the front door banging closed, and had got out of bed, groggily thinking that he must have overslept if Chloe was home already. And then he’d heard Amy crying and had gone downstairs to find that it was Hannah.
He shouldn’t really have been there at all. But the hospital had asked him to fill in for someone who was sick, six weeks before he was due to start his new job there, and he’d had to find a place to stay in the area. Chloe’s place wasn’t ideal as it reminded him too much of the family that he’d never again be a part of. But the renovations on the new house he’d bought had been the perfect excuse to stay out of her way and only return to her place to get some sleep while she was at work.
Although he’d seen little of Chloe herself, the slightly shabby, eclectic warmth of her home surrounded him. He slept between her sheets, saw her bottles in the bathroom when he went to take a shower and her food in the fridge when he went downstairs to make coffee. And if love had been something he ever wanted to do again, he would already have been a little in love with Chloe’s scent.
But that wasn’t an option. He walked back into the consulting room, armed to the teeth with all the reasons why he shouldn’t get involved with Chloe. She was cuddling Amy in her lap, her phone tucked against her shoulder, her brow creased in concentration.
‘Yes, don’t worry, we’ll make absolutely sure she’s all right. What about you?’
A pause, and then her lips twitched into a smile. It seemed that whatever was being said at the other end of the line was a reassurance.
‘Okay. You’ll stay there until I get back. Promise? Yeah, love you too.’ Chloe caught her phone as it slid from her ear and ended the call.
‘Hannah?’
‘Yes. She sounds all right, but she won’t come to the hospital. She says...’ Chloe shook her head. ‘She’s so terrified that she’s not doing well enough, and that people will think she’s a bad mother.’
Jon nodded. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that particular sentiment, and it was ironic that it was often the most loving and capable mothers who voiced it. But, then, family relationships weren’t exactly his forte.
‘First things first. I’ll take a look at Amy.’ That he could do, and he knew he could do it well.
He was aware that Chloe’s gaze was on him, an intrusion that felt so warm and welcome that all he could do was try to shut it out. Amy was fretting a little, obviously out of sorts, and he concentrated on soothing her, trying to make the examination into a game.
‘I think she may have a urinary tract infection.’ Finally he turned and faced Chloe.
‘Why?’
A fair enough question. She was a doctor too, and he couldn’t completely relegate her to the role of faceless care-giver. ‘She has a fever, but there’s no sign of a cold. Her blood pressure is slightly high, which is a concern, and...’ He shrugged. ‘I changed her nappy pants before I brought her here.’
‘And?’
This was the part where instinct corroborated medical fact. ‘There’s a particular smell that can point to a UTI in young children. Not always, but it’s an indicator.’
She nodded and Jon thought he saw her lips purse slightly. Maybe it was just his imagination. ‘Is that an old wives’ tale?’
‘It was something that a very experienced health visitor told me when I was starting out. It’s been statistically confirmed since.’
‘Which means you need a mid-stream urine sample?’
‘Yes. I think I can get that the natural way, without having to catheterise her.’
He passed this test every day. Concerned parents, who needed to know whether they could really trust him or not. It was only right that care-givers should question him and weigh everything he did up for themselves, but it was different with Chloe. He wanted very badly to make her smile.
Suddenly she did, and the effect left him momentarily transfixed, taking in all the tiny details that he’d forced himself not to