tall frame into a chair by the stove and eyed Ellen thoughtfully. ‘I hear you’re working as a midwife in London,’ he said.
‘I was. I mean I am. I’m taking a bit of a break for a few months.’
Sean frowned at her. ‘A break? For a few months? Why?’
It was a perfectly reasonable question. Just one she didn’t want to answer.
‘Personal reasons,’ she said tightly. She didn’t owe this man any explanations.
Getting to her feet, she forced a smile. ‘If you don’t mind, Gran, I think I’ll go upstairs and unpack. I’ll bring in the rest of my bags later. I didn’t want to risk not being able to get the car back out of the drive.’
Sean was on his feet almost before she’d finished speaking. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do that for you. Can’t have you lying around in the snow again.’
He cocked an eyebrow at her and the glint in his eye sent more shock waves through her body. Damn. Was her body going to behave like this every time she was near him?
‘Would you? I’d appreciate that. It’s been a long day.’ A wave of tiredness washed over her and she swayed slightly. Almost without seeing him move, she felt a steadying hand at her elbow. She looked up to find quizzical blue eyes staring intently into hers.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Cool fingers were surreptitiously feeling the pulse at her wrist. He frowned and glanced at Maggie, but she had turned away to stack the dishes in the sink. ‘Pulse is fine.’ His hand moved to her forehead. ‘No temperature, but you are pale.’
‘Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t sort out,’ Ellen said brusquely.
Sean looked unconvinced but let his hands drop to his sides. ‘You’re probably right. I’ll look in on you later.’
It was the last thing she wanted. She had the uneasy feeling nothing much escaped him, and she was far away from letting anyone know her secret. Not when she could barely acknowledge the truth to herself.
She forced another smile, hoping that this one would be more successful. ‘Honestly. There is no need. Thank you anyway. Am I in my old room, Gran?’
‘Yes, darling. I aired the bed for you and put on a fire so you should be cosy enough.’
‘I’ll make us supper when I’ve had a rest,’ Ellen promised, and on legs that felt as if they were filled with liquid rather than bones, she left the room.
‘I’d better be going too, Maggie. I’ll reverse Ellen’s car down and bring in her bags first, though.’
‘What would I do without you, Sean?’
‘You’d manage fine. They don’t make them as tough as you any more. And now you have Ellen for company.’
Sean saw a flicker of worry in Maggie’s eyes. It wasn’t there for long, but it was enough. There was something going on here that wasn’t quite right.
‘Is Ellen okay? She looks … different … somehow,’ he asked.
‘It’s a long time since you saw her, Sean. What? Seven years?’
‘Eight.’
Not that he’d been counting. Ellen had been the pesky kid from next door who had hung around with him and his pals despite their best attempts to shake her. But, boy, she had changed. Eight years ago she had been all bones, an impish smile and red mop of wayward hair. She’d also had a disconcerting habit of getting into difficulty. If he remembered right, that last summer he’d had to fish her out of a pub when she’d got involved with some less than salubrious locals. And—the memories came thick and fast—ten years before that he’d had to jump into a stream to pull her out when she’d decided to try and mimic him and his friends as they’d used a rope to swing from one side to another. He’d had no idea she’d been following them. An hour earlier she’d been furious when he’d ordered her home and unbeknownst to him had followed at a distance. The memory made him smile. She’d been impossible, but he’d always secretly admired her courage and gumption.
But she had changed. Somewhere along the way she had become almost unrecognisable. Her prettiness had turned into an almost ethereal beauty. She was so pale her skin was almost translucent, and she was so slight, it seemed as if a strong blizzard would blow her away. It wasn’t just that, though. There was no light in her eyes, no spark of mischief, no smile, no look as if she were about to dissolve in a fit of giggles. And apart from that, she’d seemed almost cool towards him. He was only too aware of the crush she’d had on him; their last meeting eight years ago had left him in no doubt of that. Of course he wouldn’t expect her still to have feelings, but this nothingness? It wasn’t what he’d expected either.
‘Sean?’ He suddenly became aware that Maggie was watching him curiously. He gave himself a mental shake. The mystery of Ellen, if there was one, would have to wait. He was due back at the hospital for a ward round, he still had Ellen’s car to shift, and, after his earlier exertions, was in need of a shower. Ellen wasn’t going anywhere for the next couple of weeks at least, so he would have plenty of time to satisfy his curiosity.
Ellen stood a little back from the window, watching as Sean expertly reversed her small car down the driveway. She wondered if he remembered the last time they had seen each other. She hoped to hell not. Her cheeks still burned every time she recalled what an idiot she’d made of herself. She had practically thrown herself at him, virtually begging him to kiss her. And he had, but then, as she’d leaned into him, wanting more, he’d gently disentangled her arms from around his neck. She remembered every second of that kiss. Before it, she’d been waiting so many years for him to notice that she’d grown up. She had dreamt so many girlish dreams of what it would be like to have Sean Jamieson kiss her. It had been her last chance. He had been going to Glasgow to complete his training and she had been going to London to start hers. What an idiot he must have thought her. How cringe-makingly embarrassing, her gauche and increasingly desperate attempts to get him to notice her. Then she’d made up that stupid story and he had kissed her, and that had made her fall in love with him even more, if that was possible. When he’d removed himself from her arms, she had wanted to die from mortification. Not that he had laughed, although she was certain she’d seen laughter lurking in his eyes, or even suggested by word or gesture that he’d known how she’d felt about him, but he had been too much of a man of the world not to have noticed.
But that was a long time ago. What did it matter that once, eight years ago, she had made a fool of herself? These days it was hard to care about anything. Over these past weeks, all she’d felt was numb. Numb and frightened. So frightened some nights she could hardly sleep. Maybe instead of coming here to Gran, she should have gone to her mother? Maybe under these desperate circumstances Mum would have been able to comfort her, be the mother to her she’d never been when she was a child. Mother loved her. She just wasn’t able to invest any of her considerable energy into parenting her. She had always known that and until now it hadn’t mattered. She’d always had Gran. Gran had more than filled any gaps left by her mother. But Gran couldn’t fix this. No one could.
Ellen’s head was spinning. She had to stop thinking that anyone could help her. She had to pull herself together. Work out how she was going to live the rest of her life.
She looked out of the window. Sean had driven her car down the drive and was removing her suitcases from the boot. He disappeared from view and she could hear his deep voice coming from downstairs. She sighed. There was something so vital and solid about him that still drew her. As a child she’d always felt Sean was invincible and anyone in his sphere was automatically included in that invincibility. But she was no longer a child. And her problems were certainly of no interest to him.
As he stepped out of the door, something made him look up at her window. For a moment their eyes locked and everything spun into the distance. Breathless, she stepped back. Her heart was beating like a bass drum. Why? Any feelings for Sean Jamieson had disappeared with the girl she used to be. And even if there was something still hidden there, she was in