'Hey, babe,' he said softly. 'Fancy a ride home?'
Emma paused, standing close enough to Tom for them to be almost touching.
'Sure do,' she murmured, 'but I can't leave just yet.' She was holding Tom's gaze and her expression was apologetic. 'I've got a really sick young girl in Resus 2. Paige, her name is. She came in with sudden onset hemiplegia and the CT has shown up a rather nasty-looking high spinal tumour. They're taking her to Theatre any time now but I promised I'd go upstairs with her.'
'I'll wait for you.'
Appreciation flashed in Emma's dark eyes. 'I was hoping to be ready to leave on time. I thought we might be able to go out for a quick drink or something before we collect Mickey.'
It sounded perfect to Tom. A quiet bar and a glass of champagne could create a very appropriate ambience.
He just wished Emma looked a bit happier, but he could understand why she didn't. A serious diagnosis in a young patient she had probably formed a bond with was more than enough to create the anxiety he could now read in her eyes. Tom searched her face, trying to gauge whether Emma might, in fact, be so upset about this case that it would make it a bad time to propose.
'It's not the time so much that I mind,' Emma added quickly. 'The surgeon's coming to talk to Paige and her parents before they move her.' It was more than anxiety Tom could see now. It was almost fear. 'It's Simon's firm that's on call.'
'He can't hurt you, Em,' Tom said with quiet authority. 'I wouldn't let him.'
By way of further reassurance, Tom leaned even closer to Emma so that they were touching as he bent his head to make sure she could hear him.
Emma nodded and then moved away with obvious reluctance. Tom watched her slip between the curtains screening Resus 2. He stared at the space she had left empty on his side of the curtains for several seconds and then he sighed and turned away.
To find himself under the intense scrutiny of Simon Flinders.
The stare was not a pleasant one.
No wonder Emma was tense at the prospect of another encounter with this man. Tom found himself straightening, his face settling into lines of a surprisingly grim determination to hold his position—both physical and moral—until Mickey's father walked past in order to get to his waiting patient. It was quite possible that Tom would have to have dealings with the surgeon in the future, because of his relationship to Mickey, and something told him he'd better make it clear that he wasn't easily intimidated.
He expected Simon to simply ignore him as he walked past to enter Resus 2.
But he didn't walk past. He stopped. His gaze flicked over Tom's paramedic insignia on his uniform and clearly dismissed his ranking in the medical profession. His voice was low enough to be perfectly discreet.
'Bit of all right, isn't she?'
'Sorry?'
Simon's well-groomed head nodded at where Emma had last been seen. Not that Tom had any doubt who the surgeon was referring to. He had just found such a startlingly unprofessional comment unbelievable.
'Know Emma well, do you?'
Tom's response dripped ice. 'Yes.'
Simon smiled. 'So do I. We go way back.'
'Yes.' Tom managed to sound as though the information was irrelevant, even while he could feel his blood pressure rising. 'So I believe.'
'I'm so pleased to find she's started working here.' Simon stared thoughtfully at the curtain around Resus 2. 'It'll give us a chance to renew our acquaintanceship.'
Tom couldn't let him get away with it. He needed to stand his ground for all sorts of reasons but mainly to protect Emma. Not that he believed she would want anything more to do with Simon, but the thought of her being upset again was enough.
Especially today.
How could Tom propose to the woman he loved if her mind was poisoned by thoughts of an ex-lover?
'Emma has no interest in renewing any acquaintance,' he found himself telling Simon. 'I'd suggest you leave her alone.'
How inappropriate was this? Two men, one of whom had urgent professional duties elsewhere, facing each other in an emergency department walkway, declaring their interests in the same woman.
Tom had the horrible thought that this was happening because of sheer bad luck in timing. If he hadn't been standing right here and hadn't broken the rules about personal contact with Emma at work, would Simon be staking any kind of a claim?
Tom doubted it. He had the impression that speaking like this was well out of character for the surgeon. That he had broken some rigidly held personal rules of his own because the provocation had been too great to resist. It was that undercurrent of such powerful emotion that disturbed Tom more than anything about this astonishing encounter.
Did Simon really care about Emma? Had he genuinely loved her years ago or was he simply the kind of man who liked to win? How deeply did having Emma walk out on him still rankle? Maybe seeing her with another man had been enough to spark renewed interest that could well be dangerous.
'I think we could leave that decision up to Emma, don't you?' Simon's smile had vanished but the fresh quirk of his lips suggested confidence. 'We have, if you like, an interest in common?'
Mickey. The bastard was planning to use Emma's son as a pawn.
It was probably just as well Tom didn't have a chance to respond. Simon moved on as smoothly as he had arrived. He twitched the curtain to Resus 2 and went in without a backward glance.
He came out only minutes later, completely ignoring Tom as he left the department with a purposeful stride. Then the bed carrying Paige emerged, surrounded by attendant medical staff and a bank of monitoring equipment. Emma was walking beside the young girl, holding her hand. The parents walked behind the head of the bed, clutching each other's hands.
Emma glanced at Tom but her half-smile was distracted and no wonder, judging by the terrified faces of the family she was accompanying. The double doors into the hospital's interior slid open and the entourage vanished. Heading towards Theatre where Simon was waiting for them all.
And that was all Tom could do as well.
Wait.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The plight of her patient had touched Emma deeply.
That was probably why she was responsive to the apparently genuine appeal from Paige's surgeon, who seemed determined to use the few spare minutes he had before scrubbing in to talk to Emma.
'I want to apologise,' he told her quietly. 'And we do need to talk, don't we?'
There was no disputing that. The question of whether Mickey would ever meet his birth father still hung over Emma and clouded any dreams she might have for a future with Tom. You couldn't move on until you had at least sorted the past in your own head, could you? Unless you had some idea what might influence the future?
Paige was now under the care of the anaesthetist. Orderlies removed the emergency department's bed and one of Emma's colleagues ushered Paige's parents in the direction of the relatives' waiting area. The theatre staff were all busy, preparing for the emergent and probably complex surgery that would start soon but the normal scheduled activity for the day had ceased and the holding bay for expected patients was an oasis of calm. It was to this relatively private place that Simon led Emma.
'I really am sorry,' he said without preamble. 'You took me completely by surprise, Emma, but that's no excuse for behaving like such an idiot. You'd think I was old enough to know better, wouldn't you?' The charm evident in the self-recrimination was very familiar but it didn't work the kind of magic it once had.
'It doesn't matter, Simon. I'm over it.' Over you, Emma added silently. There had been a brief moment, back in Resus 2, when Simon had entered wearing his theatre scrubs when Emma had experienced another one of those flashbacks and could remember very clearly how attractive she had found him that first time she'd seen him in action. The clothing advertised his status and was shapeless enough to accentuate the symmetry of a very handsome face.
And then Emma had emerged to see Tom in his uniform. With a rugged kind of face that co
uld not compete with the bone structure of male models. And Simon suddenly seemed plastic. As superficial as Emma's instincts warned her he had probably always been.
She wasn't about to tell Simon how she felt about him now, however. She hadn't forgotten the fear he had instilled by his implied threat. A man of his position could well find some way to disrupt her life by laying claim to his son.
'It matters to me,' Simon said. 'A lot.' He smoothed an imaginary crinkle in the cover of one of the holding-bay beds and then sat down. Sideways, with one leg hooked up. He looked far less intimidating as Emma looked down at him and she declined the hand waved invitation to sit on the end of the bed.
'Things are changing for me, Emma,' Simon continued. 'I think fate might have dropped you back into my life with admirable timing.'
'That's not the impression I got the other day, Simon.'
'No. And I've apologised for that. Sincerely, I hope.'
Emma ducked her head in acknowledgement.
'I lost my court case this week. If I move to the States—to the job I would be crazy to turn down—I may not see very much of my children until they're old enough to leave home and choose for themselves. It's not a happy position to be in.'
'No, I don't suppose it is.' What if Simon had had custody of their son and had lived on the other side of the world? The ongoing ache of loss would be unbearable. There was no reason to think that Simon didn't love his children any less than she loved Mickey.
Simon seemed to be reading her thoughts. 'I love my children,' he said softly. 'I know I haven't been the best father in terms of the time I've had available, but I've provided for them in the best way I could. I can't believe how distressing the thought of losing contact with them is proving.'
Emma said nothing. He didn't have to move to the States, did he? He could stay in Christchurch and be a weekend dad. But if he did that, and if things worked out between herself and Tom, they could all be living in the same city—and how would that work? Would she have to give up Mickey every second weekend as well? The notion was very unappealing.
'At least one good thing has come out of a horrendous period for me,' Simon said. 'I can see now that the surprise of finding I have another son is a gift rather than an unwelcome complication.'
Emma still said nothing. A feeling of dread was beginning to form.
'I could legally claim parental rights.' Simon was still looking up at Emma and his confident tone was tempered by a tentative smile. 'But I don't suppose you travelled twelve thousand miles if you had the intention of contesting those rights, did you?'
'It depends on what rights you're talking about,' Emma said. She wasn't going to let Simon have regular or prolonged access to her son. Not now, when she knew there was no chance she would want to be with Simon again herself.
'I wouldn't ask for anything that you're not happy about,' Simon reassured her. 'All I'm asking for right now is the opportunity to meet my son. For him to meet his father.'
Which was precisely what Emma had planned when she had decided to make this journey. She searched Simon's face, still upturned, his blue eyes shining in appeal, and failed to detect a lack of sincerity.
She believed him.
Maybe it would be possible for them to end up being friends. To share, in some way, the joy of the child they had created together. Maybe her old fantasies had gone up in a puff of smoke but this one had a grounding in reality, didn't it? And wouldn't it be the best thing possible for everyone involved? Especially Mickey?
'Mr Hinders?' A nurse appeared through the swing doors of the operating theatre suite. 'We're ready for you.'
Simon stood up. 'I have to go.'
Emma nodded. 'Will Paige be all right, do you think?'
'I hope so.' Simon's face creased into an empathetic frown. 'It's a pretty nasty thing to have discovered but I'll be doing my best to make sure the damage is minimised. We'll just have to keep our fingers crossed that the tumour's not malignant.'
The surgeon's focus was now very appropriately fastened on the case ahead of him and his expression suggested that a good outcome was just as important to him as it was to Emma. Some of the respect she had once felt for Simon returned.
He hadn't totally forgotten about her, though. He turned back just before he pushed the swing doors open.
'Think about it, Emma. Please.'
Tom checked his watch for the umpteenth time.
What could be taking so long? He'd been waiting for nearly half an hour now. He and Emma wouldn't be able to stop for that drink on the way home and proposing while negotiating rush-hour traffic was hardly romantic. Having summoned the courage to do something so life-altering, it was hugely disappointing to have to concede that a postponement was inevitable.
The disappointment evaporated on seeing Emma rush through the doors.
'I'm so sorry, Tom. I got held up.'
'Not a problem. Shall we get going?'
'I'll just grab my bag.' Emma still looked apologetic. 'I don't suppose we've got time for that drink now, have we?'
'Mickey's probably getting pretty hungry.' Tom followed Emma towards the locker room. 'Did you have to wait until Paige was asleep?'
'No. The anaesthetist team were great. I got held up by Simon, surprisingly. He wanted to talk. I'll be back in a sec and I'll tell you all about it.' Emma was leaving Tom to wait again as she disappeared into the locker room.
He hadn't found the information at all surprising. Not after the interchange he'd had with the surgeon in Emergency. He did find it deeply disturbing, however. What he needed as he and Emma walked towards the car park minutes later was some kind of reassurance that she hadn't been sucked in by Simon's new agenda.
And he wasn't getting it.
'You don't mind me talking about this, do you, Tom?'
'Of course not.'
'You seem kind of quiet.'
'I'm just listening. Simon seems to have persuaded you that meeting Mickey is a good thing.'
'Well, I'm not absolutely sure but I'm certainly going to have to think about it. I mean, he is Mickey's father. He does have rights.'
'Does he?' Tom jabbed tile remote he was holding and the interior lights of his four-wheel-drive came on. He yanked open the driver's door.
Emma climbed into the passenger seat beside him and eyed him with a worried frown.
'You're not happy about this, are you?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Isn't it obvious? He's already upset you once. More than once. Maybe you were right. The dishonest way he treated you took away any rights he might have had.'
'That's not what you used to think. It was partly your disapproval over me never telling him that made me decide to stay and sort it out.'
'What disapproval? I've never said anything.'
'You didn't need to. I felt it the first time I met you. When I told you about Simon.' Emma shook her head impatiently at Tom's blank expression. 'In the van— when you were trying to pull that piece of metal out of my leg.'
Tom shook his head. All he remembered was the feeling of vague disappointment that Emma was in the country with an agenda that included a man. A pale emotion compared to the churning in his gut that he was currently experiencing.
'And you were happy to let me stay with you when you knew I was waiting for Simon to get back. You approved of my plan to hang around long enough for him to have a chance to get to know Mickey.'
Tom turned the ignition key. 'Maybe I had other reasons to approve of you hanging around.'
'Like what?'
'You know what.' The engine was running but Tom made no move to reverse out of the parking slot. 'I was attracted to you.' He turned to face her. 'More than attracted, Emma. I'd already fallen in love with you.'
'You knew I had baggage,' Emma said slowly. 'Any past relationship leaves baggage and one that involves a child has infinitely more. It's something we're going to have to deal with if there's any hope for us lasting long term.' She was staring at Tom in
the half-light of dusk. 'I don't understand. If you were already in love with me when you knew I was planning to let Simon meet Mickey, why should it make any difference now that it's going to happen?'
'Is it?'
'Why shouldn't it?'
'Simon's just using Mickey, Emma. He's trying to get at you.'
'I didn't get that impression when I was talking to him. He seems to genuinely care that he has a child he's never met.'
I'll bet he does, Tom thought furiously. And he was probably very convincing or Emma wouldn't be sounding so defensive. Should he tell Emma about his own conversation with Simon? Would she believe that she was being manipulated and that Simon's relationship to Mickey was merely a useful ploy?
Instinct warned Tom that it was something Emma would have to discover for herself if she was going to believe it. However hard it might be for him to stay silent, it was important that he did so. Emma would see his attitude as interference and might assume it was an expression of jealousy, which was an unattractive feature in anybody.
It was quite possible that Tom could unconsciously aid Simon by sabotaging the trust he and Emma had been building. What they had already built looked alarmingly precarious at this moment in time. Had he really been planning to propose this evening? It looked very much as though they were sinking into their first-ever fight instead. Disappointment and frustration combined to create a deep sense of hurt that found a very limited outlet in action. Having cleared the car park, Tom put his foot on the accelerator. Emma looked startled at the speed they rapidly gained.
'Why do you dislike Simon so much?' she queried suddenly. 'You don't even know him.' Tom could feel Emma staring at his profile. 'I wouldn't have picked you for the jealous type, Tom. I'm beginning to feel like I don't know you as well as I thought.'
'I'm not the one who's done a U-turn here, Emma. It was only a couple of weeks ago that you were devastated by the way Simon had treated you. You were scared he was going to get you fired or something if you made the truth about his unwanted child public.'
A Father Beyond Compare Page 11
