A Kiss To Change Her Life

He’d been overwhelmed with so much support from friends and family he’d never been able to tell anyone the truth. That he was to blame and he didn’t deserve an ounce of their sympathy. The claustrophobia of his guilt had escalated when the papers had run the story, making him out to be the victim, when he’d known differently. That primal scream had built inside him, ripping him apart in its effort to find release. But he hadn’t been able to confess his role when everyone around him was already suffering so much. Instead, he’d taken the easy route and left everyone, everything, back in Scotland.

Of course it wasn’t Jessica’s fault that he was wary of the press but she’d already proved adept at her research. It wouldn’t take much for her to uncover the tragic tale he’d kept secret since taking up his post here. He couldn’t bear to have the details raked over again, or stand by and watch anyone else be put in a similar situation for the sake of one woman’s career.

Still, she was right about giving the fund some much-needed publicity. As much as it might make him a hypocrite, they were a fair bit away from reaching their two-million-pound target and he would accept any offer of help. No doubt that had played a huge part in getting the families to take part when they were as desperate as he to get a scanner for the department. It would mean quicker diagnosis and treatment, as well as minimising the disruption to the children.

‘By requisitioning the storeroom we’ll have space for parents and staff to speak freely about certain aspects of the treatment without upsetting anyone around them. Can I pencil you in for a spot?’

Give these investigative types an inch and they took a mile every damn time.

‘I have a very busy schedule. Speaking of which, I really need to start my rounds.’ He put the first foot forward to escape Jessica’s interference and check in with his patients so he could discuss their ongoing care later with the rest of the staff. Unfortunately, his new shadow refused to take the hint and teetered behind him in her high heels.

‘I’ll put you down as a yes anyway and you can give us a shout when you have a few minutes to spare. Now, the tech crew are set up on the ward, ready to roll. We thought it would be a good idea to film you talking to our little stars. I’ve already introduced myself but it might make things easier if they see a face they know and trust alongside the cameras.’

Tenacious. That was the word Rob would use to describe her. The most polite one he could think of, at least. It was also how he’d have described his late wife, along with ambitious, stubborn, selfish, irresponsible and terribly missed.

The argument that fateful day had been over what he’d perceived as neglect of their daughter while she chased her dream. Two adults should’ve been able to communicate better, discuss arrangements for childcare. Instead of one parent sneaking off to modelling assignments with a bored four-year-old in tow. If he’d handled the situation differently, been aware of his wife’s struggle with motherhood earlier …

He dodged away from the dark cloud threatening to settle over him, as it always did when he thought of the accident. The years had done nothing to ease the pain of his loss but there was no room for it here. If these kids were able to wear a brave face through everything they were going through, he could too. After all, they’d done nothing to deserve the hand they’d been dealt and he was guilty of orchestrating his own heartache. He should’ve been there for his family when they’d needed him most.

‘So … we’ll make a start, then?’ Jessica verbally prodded him.

‘Yeah. Sure.’ He could at least make preliminary introductions between the patients and the crew. That way he’d be around to make sure Jessica and co. didn’t overstep the mark and upset people. He knew better than anyone who was strong enough to bare their soul to the world and who was too fragile to handle the spotlight. Even with the best will in the world, the sort of attention a personal tragedy brought from the general public could break a person’s spirit. There were only so many pitying looks and sympathy one could take before it became too much to bear. But he had the very family in mind who could keep them all on their toes.

‘Hey, Max.’ As soon as the cameras were ready to roll, Rob perched on the end of his favourite patient’s bed, safe in the knowledge that nothing would faze this particular seven-year-old.

‘You gonna play cars with me?’ Max handed him a red pickup truck from the impressive collection of toy vehicles he had covering the surface of his bed.

‘I’m not staying long this morning. I have to show this lady around the ward, but I’ll come back later on to see you.’ In private.

The demolition derby going on in the centre of the bed came to an abrupt end. ‘She’s gonna put me on TV.’

‘Yes. If that’s what you want.’ Rob waited for the first indication that this was too much even for his resident funny man.

‘Wait!’ Max held his hand up to halt everything and Rob heard the collective gasp of the crew as they held their breath.

‘Is everything all right?’ All he had to do was give the word and this would end now.

‘We can stop for a while if that’s what you need, Max.’ Jessica cut across Rob’s concern with the practical solution of a timeout. Clearly she was used to being the one in charge. So was he.

The monitors were still holding steady as they charted the child’s vitals, indicating that this wasn’t a physiological problem. Max shuffled up the bed and sat straighter.

‘I just want to make sure my hair is okay for the cameras. Us TV stars have to look good for the laydees.’ He slid a hand over his little bald head, then slicked a finger over his non-existent eyebrows.

‘Maximus—’ Rob tried to hide his own smile whilst warning his tiny gladiator about making outsiders feel uncomfortable. Max was too busy rolling on the bed laughing at his own joke to take any notice. A sense of humour was an important part of recovery but sometimes the dark nature of it could take others by surprise.

He half expected to see the efficient producer wide-eyed with horror at one of the chemotherapy-based jokes which flew about here on a daily basis between the kids. Instead, those green-blue eyes were sparkling and her pretty pink lips were curved up into a grin.

‘Don’t worry—you’ll have all the girls falling over themselves to get to you, Max. Perhaps you’d like to say a few words to your future fans?’ She wasn’t the hard-ass he’d taken her for as she played along, regardless of the tight schedule she was probably on too.

With the air of a true pro, Rob’s charge stopped laughing and looked directly into the camera lens. ‘Hi, I’m Max. I’m seven and I like cars and strawberry milkshakes.’

‘Excellent. Although I’m more partial to chocolate ones myself.’ Jessica wasn’t appearing on camera herself but she certainly knew how to get the best from her subjects. She even had good taste in milkshakes.

‘Do you wanna see my central line?’ Max pulled down the front of his hospital gown to show off the long thin tube inserted into his chest used to administer his chemotherapy. He was so matter-of-fact about it there was no room for sympathy or shock. As far as a lot of the children here were concerned, they were sick and this was how they got better. It was as simple as that. The adults, on the other hand, had a much harder time of dealing with it. Max’s parents were at his bedside now, happy to let him play up to the cameras, but it had been a long and tearful journey to get this far.

‘Wow. That’s cool. And can you tell me what it’s for?’ Jessica gently coaxed some more information from her subject. Since Max and his family seemed relaxed with the line of questioning, Rob would stay out of the conversation unless his counsel was needed.

‘The nurses put the medicine in there and sometimes they take blood too.’ The plastic tube apparently held no more fear for him than the toys scattered around him, even though he’d suffered some of the awful side effects from the chemo itself. Rob supposed this was simply part of life for the boy now, as it had become for so many of his patients. It was a scenario no parent wanted for their child but it was better than the alternative. He should know. If he’d had the chance, he would’ve done whatever it took to prolong his own daughter’s life. That was part of the process he doubted these new visitors could ever really understand.

‘You’re a very brave boy, Max. Perhaps Dr Campbell could tell us some more about your condition?’ Jessica directed the camera back to him.

Take a deep breath and think of the scanner.

He glanced over at Mr and Mrs Gardner in case they wanted to have their say first.

‘I’m going to interview other family members later. For now, I’d appreciate your professional input.’ There was no chance of dodging airtime with this eagle-eyed producer on the case. She had all the bases covered and all exits firmly blocked. Rob was back in the spotlight whether he liked it or not.

He cleared his throat. ‘Max has Ewing’s sarcoma of the right tibia. This is a rare form of bone cancer usually found in older adolescent males. You’re just one in a million, buddy, aren’t you?’

Max high-fived him. ‘You better believe it.’

‘He’s responded well to the chemotherapy and is scheduled for surgery to remove the remainder of the tumour.’ Rob was savvy enough to understand that Max’s surgery was probably another reason he would be top of the producer’s wish list, along with his vivacious personality. The drama would be catnip to producers and viewers alike. Rob hoped it would have the happy ending they were all hoping for—complete removal of the tumour and preserving the limb without loss of function. Even then there were no guarantees the cancer wouldn’t return or they’d face an eventual amputation down the line. Fortunately, this job was all about taking one step at a time and so far Max’s treatment was on target.

‘And that’s under the guidance of a multidisciplinary team?’ Jessica’s stealthy research skills again made Rob wonder if they’d yet extended to his personal life.

That familiar churning started in the pit of his stomach, the way it always did when there was a chance he’d have to talk about what had happened with Leah and Mollie. There was no way he was going to be subjected to her questioning or, worse, her pity. ‘Yes, Max’s care plan has been tailor-made for him under the supervision of the surgeons, nurses, pharmacists and all the other health professionals involved in his treatment thus far.’

He shifted off the bed, not giving a damn if it upset camera angles or continuity; they could always edit. As far as this nonsense was concerned, he’d done what was required of him. More importantly, he’d checked Max wasn’t anxious before heading for surgery. ‘If you have any other questions, Maria, the senior nurse, can advise you. I really must get on with my rounds.’

Rob was counting on chatterbox Max to keep the crew busy until he’d seen the rest of his patients in peace.

‘But … but …’ Jessica was tempted to knock him back down on his butt and let her finish this segment. For some reason Dr Campbell seemed intent on sabotaging her at every turn. Just when she thought he was finally coming to terms with their presence here he’d closed up shop again. She was beginning to take it personally when he’d been such a sweetheart to Max.

Rob had switched the minute she’d opened her mouth about the MDT. Perhaps he was territorial and didn’t appreciate anyone questioning his methods here. The truth was, she’d spent so long in and out of the oncology ward herself she was practically an expert in the procedures.

It had taken her a while to get used to seeing all the little kids attached to monitors and drips again and she’d actually welcomed having him to lead her through the ward. Sure, she had her hand-picked tech guys here but she was supposed to be the leader as far as they were concerned. There was such a strong association for her with pain and sickness she’d forgotten that there had been good times too. Max had reminded her that she’d had laughs with some real friends along the way. A few of whom hadn’t made it out the other side of cancer. Rob had absolutely no cause to treat her as some sort of ghoul.

‘Max, I’ll come down later and walk with you to Theatre.’

Why couldn’t he talk to her with the soft-talking Scottish lilt instead of that defensive bark?

‘And maybe we could get that interview on tape while you’re here too?’ For now she could fire ahead with Max and his parents, but if she couldn’t even nail him down for five minutes it was going to be a long couple of months.

‘We’ll see.’ His eyes flashed with blue fire but this wasn’t about him, or even her.

‘Dr Campbell is one of my best friends. He brings me new cars every time I have to stay here.’ Max said his piece on the subject, then resumed making explosion sounds as he caused a four-car pile-up on his bed.

It was a heart-warming statement that managed to smooth out the frown on the handsome doctor’s forehead. ‘You don’t need to suck up, Max. We both know I have a silver Lamborghini with your name on it.’

These two together were cuteness personified. Jessica understood that the staff developed close bonds with the children—she’d become attached to the nurses she’d seen nearly every day—but it was rare for someone of Rob’s status to take such a personal interest. He would probably relate more if he had boys of his own but Jessica knew nothing of his personal circumstances.

He turned his back on her to walk away but that terrier spirit in her wanted his name in her diary before he left. She reached out to stop him. ‘So, we can go ahead and schedule that interview?’

The muscles in his arm bunched beneath her fingers and she had to fight to concentrate. This was a guy who worked out and someone she clearly had explosive chemistry with. Unfortunately, a quick check on his ring finger confirmed he was already taken.

‘Why do I get the impression that not many people say no to you?’ Rob cocked his head to one side as though he was studying some new incurable disease.

Goosebumps rippled over her skin. In her job she was used to being challenged; the thrill of it reminded her she was alive. Although, judging by her quickening pulse, it could be said she was enjoying it too much at present.

‘They do. I simply choose to ignore it.’ Something she was going to have to do about those hottie vibes radiating from her new married opponent.

CHAPTER TWO

ROB SWITCHED ON the air conditioning in his car in an attempt to cool the after-effects of his early-morning workout and hot shower. He reckoned the gym was missing a trick with their opening times. A twenty-four-hour haven for members whose shift patterns and insomnia left them with too much time on their hands would make a fortune.

He’d stayed at the hospital until after Max’s surgery, making sure there was a friendly face by his side when he came round from the anaesthetic. Even though he’d been exhausted by the time he’d returned home and fallen into bed, the tiredness hadn’t overridden the all too familiar nightmares. Rob might not have been at the scene of the accident but it didn’t stop him imagining their terror, hearing them call for him before the sickening crunch of the impact.

Sometimes he would even wake from his fitful sleep thinking he could hear Mollie crying from the room next door, a sound which always pulled on his heart-strings like a harp. He’d be out of bed and on his way to tuck her in before he realised his mind had played a cruel trick on him. Thanks to his own stubbornness and a dumb kid in a stolen car, he’d never have a chance to comfort his daughter again.

The first rays of the dawn light often came as a blessing, heralding the start of a new working day where he had plenty to keep his thoughts busy. It was the downtime, such as sitting in this logjam of cars, which let his mind wander towards those things beyond his control.

As he edged forward in the morning traffic, he spotted a familiar figure by the side of the road. Jessica, with her slinky grey silk dress hitched up to her thighs, was running after a bus, barefoot. Rob slowed the car to watch the spectacle. Sure enough, there she was with those ludicrous heels in her hand for a second time. Silver ones today. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had matching shoes for every outfit in her, no doubt, vast wardrobe.

He wound down the window as he tailed her. ‘You should really invest in a pair of flats.’

She slowed to a casual walk although her face was flushed from her exertions and he’d already heard her swear as the bus pulled away. Jessica leaned through the open window and the auburn waves of her hair tumbled over her shoulders. ‘Are you going to sit there sneering all day, or be a gentleman and offer me a lift?’

He opened the door and turned off his MP3 player so he didn’t lose the upper hand here by revealing his love of cheesy pop music. Even though she was the last person he wanted to spend time with, he could hardly leave her stranded when they were going to the same place. Next time he might be inclined to pretend he didn’t see her and save himself from suffocating in her spicy perfume.

‘I didn’t have you down as the type to use public transport,’ he remarked.

The expensive clothes and the matching pearly-pink mani-pedi she was sporting weren’t in keeping with the thick exhaust fumes belching out from the bus in front. No, she’d be more at home in a sports car with the top down, cruising the streets of Monaco or somewhere equally fabulous.

‘I never did get around to taking driving lessons. Besides, the buses run regularly into the city centre from here and I don’t have to worry about finding a parking space. It’s my fault I’m late. I slept in this morning.’ Jessica leaned one hand on his leg to balance herself as she bent down to slip on her shoes. It was such an innocent, yet intimate, act but it burned his skin where she touched him. The rush of blood in his ears drowned out the majority of her chatter—something about missing breakfast—as she squeezed his thigh.

He hadn’t expected to react so … primitively … to being in close quarters with a woman he’d barely spoken to until twenty-four hours ago. It wasn’t as if he’d been a monk all of this time, where one touch from a woman could send him into raptures. He’d had a few flings but he lived by three rules—no one from work, no more than one night and keep things strictly physical. His partners knew the score from the start, so he could walk away without any emotional complications. No one would ever get close enough where he’d have to battle his conscience over replacing Leah in his life.

Jessica was attractive, successful and apparently incredibly tactile. What wasn’t to like? Unless you only engaged in overnight shenanigans and the lady in question was at your place of work for the next four weeks. In other circumstances he might have acted differently, encouraged further exploration of his person, but this would only be asking for trouble. He shuffled in his seat as his body seemed to outgrow his trousers and he was glad when she removed her hand before things became uncomfortable for both of them.

‘I … er … thought you might like to know Max’s surgery was a success. The surgeon managed to remove all traces of the tumour.’ He switched back to the topic guaranteed to draw out her ruthless side and remind him she was a no-go area.

‘I already know, but thanks.’

‘Oh, I wasn’t aware you were still filming him?’ He hadn’t seen any cameras down near the operating theatre and it wasn’t the sort of information the staff would’ve given her over the phone.

‘We weren’t. I got a text from his mum, Maggie, last night. I keep in touch with most of the parents to see how the kids are doing. Not everyone thinks I’m the devil incarnate.’ She was trying to get a rise out of him but she’d managed that with one snippet of information.

He couldn’t believe she was close enough to the families that they included her in their circle of trust. If what she was saying was true, that information on the children’s health wasn’t even gleaned for the benefit of the show. He would have to rethink what he thought he knew about her. His jaded perception of anyone in the media world had meant that he’d thought it impossible for her to be genuinely invested in these kids. To find out otherwise meant he might have to actually start being nice to her. At work.

‘Well, I’m pleased you have such a personal interest in the families but I hope you understand we still can’t have you breezing in and out as you please. We’re not going to hold back treatment to fit in around your schedule.’ The deliberately harsh words were an attempt to establish boundaries in a situation where he was scrabbling for an ounce of control. She was a member of staff by proxy and privileged to have been given access to the ward, after all.

‘I assure you I’m deadly serious about this job. My timekeeping is usually impeccable. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep very well last night and didn’t hear the alarm go off this morning. I’m sure even you’ve overslept on occasion but you have my word it won’t happen again.’ Jessica stiffened in the passenger seat, her hands resting very properly in her lap as she rose above his accusation of complacency.

‘Good.’ Rob jammed the car into fifth gear as they got a free run onto the motorway.

‘Fine.’

An uneasy silence filled the interior of the car as they retreated back to their corners. Rob might have successfully asserted his authority over the crew’s presence in the department, but he’d also ploughed up any groundwork they’d laid for a semi-harmonious working relationship. All because he couldn’t handle being this close to another woman without freaking out about it.

‘Isn’t there someone else who could give you a nudge in the mornings, or give you a lift into work?’ He didn’t know why he was pushing for more information about her home life. Whether she had a partner or still lived at home with her parents was of no consequence to him. Perhaps he was simply hoping there was someone else in her life to take responsibility for getting her to work on time so he didn’t have to.

‘I’m single and rediscovering the joys of independence. How about you?’ There spoke the voice of a bitter break-upee. Someone who probably wasn’t in a hurry to jump back into a relationship of any sort. Not that her love life was of any consequence to him.

He had no desire to get involved in the details of her split, nor did he want to get caught up in an exchange of personal information with a virtual stranger. After a moment he decided to go with ‘Unhappily single’ to describe his current status. He wasn’t alone by choice, and he wasn’t too fond of the other label usually bestowed on him, since it portrayed him as some sort of tragic case.

‘What, no Mrs Campbell to see you off to work in the morning with a kiss and some freshly cut sandwiches?’ The sneer in Jessica’s voice declared her judgement on the sort of woman she imagined married to him. How little she knew. Leah’s free-spirited nature hadn’t been dampened simply because she’d become a wife and mother. If anything, Rob had been the one in the relationship more suited to domesticity. Not that he would admit that to a woman who’d already challenged his authority and coerced him into making concessions for her benefit. A woman not unlike the one he’d lost.

‘Not any more.’ He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to strangle the emotions bubbling up inside him, and put his foot down on the accelerator to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Post shift was the time for wallowing in his grief, certainly not before. It wouldn’t do to cross his personal life with his professional one or he’d end up a complete blubbering mess every time a family reminded him of his. And what purpose would he have in life if he couldn’t even do his job properly?

‘Did she forget to cut your crusts off once too often?’ The throwaway remark came with a snort but the subject was too raw for Rob to find any amusement.