The Baby Gift. Alison Roberts

      ‘Not at all.’ The idea of applying any of those criticisms to Mac was ludicrous. ‘I was kind of an only child myself, you know, what with Anne turning into my mother.’

      Mac turned off onto another road and Julia saw the sign indicating the route to the Eastern Infirmary—the hospital they were heading for. This conversation would have to end very soon and she hadn’t stepped off first base, really. Mac was going all silent again so it was up to her to say something.

      ‘It’s just that you’re such a people person,’ she said carefully. ‘You get on so well with everybody and you love kids. I had this picture in my head of you being the oldest in a big family. The big brother, you know?’

      Mac turned into the car park. ‘I wish,’ he said quietly, choosing an empty slot to swing the vehicle into. ‘A big family was something I always dreamed of.’ He pulled on the hand brake and cut the engine.

      Something inside Julia died right along with the engine.

      The tiny hope that this could have been something. That they didn’t have to bury that kiss and make it go away.

      It was something in Mac’s tone. A wistfulness that told her a big family was a dream that mattered a lot. Something he hadn’t had as a child but he could—and should—be able to realise it as a father.

      The road that led further than that kiss could never go in that direction and she owed it to Mac not to let either of them take it further.

      Not that he was showing the slightest sign of wanting to but she could have kept hoping and now she wasn’t going to. And that was good. Any potential for an emotional ride that could only end in a painful crash was being removed.

      ‘Come on, then.’ Julia reached for the door latch. ‘Let’s go and find Ken.’

      Their spinal injury patient from the train carriage was still in the intensive care unit but he was awake and seemed delighted to see his visitors.

      ‘Hey, Jules! You’ve come to see me.’

      ‘I said I would.’ Julia’s smile was lighting up her whole face and it wasn’t just Ken who was captured by its warmth. Mac had to make an effort to look away and find something else compelling enough to compete with that smile.

      ‘I probably won’t need surgery.’ Ken sounded tired but quite happy to discuss his treatment with the person who’d played such a big part in his rescue.

      ‘That’s fantastic,’ Julia said. ‘So the doctors are happy with you?’

      ‘So far. They’ve warned me it’s going to be a long road to any recovery and they said we won’t know how bad things will end up being until after the spinal shock wears off, and that can take weeks.’

      Julia was nodding, her face sympathetic. Then she glanced up at the wall behind his bed which was plastered with get-well cards.

      ‘So many cards,’ she said. ‘You’re a popular man, Ken. I reckon I’d be lucky to get two if I was lying in that bed.’

      ‘I doubt that.’ Ken’s tone was admiring. So was the gaze he had fixed on Julia. Mac felt a kind of growl rumbling in his chest. He cleared his throat.

      ‘What was the verdict?’ he asked. ‘As far as damage?’

      ‘A fracture/dislocation in C6/7 and a fracture in…um…I think it was T8. Does that mean anything?’

      Mac smiled. ‘Sure does. Any changes in your symptoms in the last couple of days?’

      ‘The pins and needles have gone from my hands. I’ve got them in my feet instead but they say that’s a good thing.’

      ‘It is,’ Julia agreed. ‘And the earlier you see an improvement, the more likely things are to end up better than you might expect.’

      ‘Pretty much what my doctor said.’ Ken had that slightly awed tone back again. ‘You really know your stuff, don’t you?’

      ‘I’m still learning.’ Julia’s gaze flicked to Mac and she smiled.

      The smile said that she was learning from him and that she was grateful. It made Mac feel important. Necessary. He had things he could give her, like knowledge and new skills. Not that he hadn’t already been doing that but it seemed more significant now. The way everything happening between them did.

      The pleasurable pride faded abruptly, however, as Mac realised what that significance was. Julia had just reminded him of his position as her mentor. Of her passion for her career and why she was here.

      The sound of their pagers curtailed the visit. Julia promised to visit again on her next day off and Mac was aware of another unpleasant splash of emotion.

      Jealousy?

      If it was, it was easily dealt with because Mac also realised that Julia had just handed him exactly what he needed.

      The key to be able to lock that box.

      It wasn’t that the reminder of Christine hadn’t been enough to warn him off. This was a bonus. Julia wasn’t just a woman whose career was the most important thing to her, he was her senior colleague. Her teacher. In a position of authority. To step over professional boundaries into anything more personal simply wasn’t acceptable and his reputation and status in his chosen field of work were everything to him.

      This was the key.

      He would talk to Julia about spinal injuries on their way to this callout. He would quiz her about spinal oedema and paralytic ileus and the scientific evidence that an early infusion of methyl prednisolone could minimise any ongoing damage to the spinal cord.

      And when they were at the job they could talk about that patient. Analyse the job on the way home. Anything that would foster professionalism.

      Yes. The key was in its slot and Mac was confident that it would turn smoothly.

      The danger was over.