Читать книгу A Courageous Doctor - Алисон Робертс - Страница 8

BLACK ice.

The small car lost traction and went into a skid, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees before careening sideways into the solid rock wall of the gorge. Maggie Johnston braked her own vehicle gently, negotiating the curve around the crashed car until she had gone far enough to be easily seen by oncoming traffic. She hit the hazard light button on her dashboard and then pulled the release catch for the hatch at the back of her car. Thank goodness she had unearthed her first-aid kit before stuffing in any more of her worldly possessions now filling all the available space.

And thank goodness the car had skidded towards the solid side of this tortuous road. Had it gone the other way it would have tumbled about fifty metres into the impressive flow of the Cromwell River that sliced through the base of this picturesque gorge. Maggie wasn’t thinking about the setting’s scenic qualities right now, however. Having alerted the emergency services of the incident, she was now assessing the hazards the scene presented. Her own car would warn traffic of the obstruction on that side of the road around the bend. The narrow section in the direction she was now walking was relatively straight and…yes, there was another vehicle approaching with due caution. Maggie waved her arms and the driver stopped and rolled down his window.

‘Is anybody hurt?’

‘I’m about to find out.’ Maggie’s air of control was unconscious. ‘Could you park your car back at the next bend and put your hazard lights on? Wave down any approaching traffic and warn them to stop.’

‘Have you called an ambulance?’

‘It’s on its way. I just need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with.’ Maggie was already moving away swiftly. ‘Don’t worry, I do know what I’m doing. I’m a paramedic.’

It was only a minute or so after the accident that Maggie reached the passenger’s door of the crashed car, which was accessible. The occupant on that side was sitting there, clearly stunned by what had happened. Maggie tried the doorhandle but the front of the car was crumpled enough for it to have jammed. She noted that no airbags had been deployed as she tapped on the window.

‘Hello, can you hear me?’

The woman’s head turned and she blinked at Maggie in bewilderment.

‘Can you roll your window down?’ Maggie called. ‘I can’t open the door.’

The woman moved quickly now and the window lowered. Maggie leaned in so that she could see the driver as well.

‘Hello, there. Are either of you injured?’

‘I…I’m not sure,’ the driver stammered. ‘I don’t know what happened.’

‘You hit a patch of ice,’ Maggie told him. ‘Your car skidded and hit the wall.’

‘Oh, God!’ The middle-aged woman burst into tears. ‘We could have been killed.’

‘It’s OK,’ Maggie said. ‘You’re safe. My name’s Maggie and I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me if you have any pain anywhere?’

‘No.’ The woman was struggling to release her safety belt. ‘I want to get out.’

‘My neck hurts,’ the man said. ‘And I’m bleeding. I’ve cut my arm.’

‘Try and stay still,’ Maggie instructed. She couldn’t see any evidence of major ongoing blood loss and neither occupant was showing any signs of breathing difficulties. She looked at the car again. It was a three-door hatchback very similar to her own so it was going to be difficult for anyone to climb into the back and provide support for a potential cervical injury. The passenger door was jammed and the driver’s door was blocked by the rock wall it rested against. She looked past the car to the group of people approaching.

‘Does anybody have a crowbar or something similar?’ she called. ‘I need to try and get this door open.’

‘Let me try.’ A large man stepped forward. He reached for the door catch and pulled. Maggie saw him frown as he reassessed the situation. She picked up her mobile phone and made contact with the emergency services again.

‘We have two people trapped,’ she informed them. ‘One appears to be status 4, the other status 3 with a possible cervical injury. We need the fire service, a tow truck and an ambulance.’ She glanced at the growing number of onlookers. ‘We’re probably getting a bit of a traffic jam on the road as well.’

The man trying the door was now gripping the window-frame as the passenger held the catch open from the inside. He had his foot against the bottom of the car and with each pull the metal was giving a little. As Maggie finished her call the door was finally wrenched open enough to allow the woman to escape. She was still sobbing and Maggie gave her over to the care of the bystanders with instructions to keep her warm as she opened her first-aid kit and then climbed into the vehicle.

‘Is your car fitted with airbags?’

‘Just on my side. Why hasn’t it gone off?’

‘I don’t know.’ Maggie reminded herself to be careful until the fire service arrived with a cover for the steering-wheel. Getting between an injured occupant and a deploying airbag had killed more than one paramedic since their introduction.

‘Are you having any difficulty breathing at all?’

‘It hurts a bit when I take a deep breath.’

‘OK. I’m going to check your neck and put a collar around it and then I’ll listen to your breathing. What’s your name?’

‘James. Colin James.’

‘Have you got any medical problems I should know about, Colin? Do you suffer from any heart conditions? Asthma? High blood pressure?’

By the time the first assistance arrived, Maggie had completed a thorough assessment on both victims and was happy there were no serious injuries. Colin’s neck pain was probably due to mild whiplash. The collar was just a precaution until an X-ray examination could confirm her impression. As Maggie introduced herself and handed over the various components of scene control, she found herself becoming the centre of attention rather than her patients.

The ambulance arrived after the fire service and police and the crews of those vehicles were ready for the approach of the young, male ambulance officer.

‘Watch out, Jason,’ they warned jovially. ‘Your boss has beaten you to it. This is Maggie Johnston, the new station manager for Lakeview.’

‘You’re kidding!’ The officer’s face split into a wide grin. ‘Welcome to Central Otago, Maggie.’

‘Hell of an introduction.’ Maggie returned the grin. ‘I’m not supposed to start work till Monday.’ She was surprised but not at all put off by her future colleague’s short, dread-locked hair. He looked intelligent and had a very friendly smile. She held out her hand. ‘But thanks for the welcome.’

Her hand was shaken warmly. ‘I’m Jason Locke. I got your update from Control on the way so I knew there was someone here who knew what they were doing. Has the status changed for either patient?’

‘No. Mrs James was uninjured. Neither were KO’d and both have a GCS of 15. Colin has two out of ten neck pain, no associated neurology. He’s got some bruising from the seat belt but his chest is clear. Abdomen’s also clear. Blood pressure is 130 over 90. He’s got a minor laceration on his right forearm which I’ve dressed. That will probably need a few stitches. I’ve put a C-collar on and made a note of baseline vitals on both patients.’

‘Cool.’ Jason was nodding. Then he grinned again. ‘You wouldn’t like to complete the paperwork while you’re at it, would you?’

Maggie raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you single-crewed?’

‘That’s nothing unusual at the moment. We’ve got plenty of staff for the patient transfer side of the service and they’re qualified to fill gaps in the emergency roster, along with the volunteers, but we’ve been pushing them a bit hard for the last couple of months so it’s not just me that’s been looking forward to your arrival.’

‘What would you like me to do?’

‘I’ll grab a backboard,’ Jason said. ‘If you could help with the extrication and another assessment before I head off I’d be very grateful.’

Maggie also completed the two patient report forms and offered to travel with the ambulance if someone else could drive her car.

‘If it was a serious injury I’d take you up on that offer,’ Jason said. ‘But we’re fine, now. One of the fire guys, Andy, is a mate. He’ll drive me back. I’m sure you’ll want to get into town and get settled before it gets any later. Or colder. Call in at the station tomorrow and I’ll give you the grand tour.’

‘Thanks. I suppose I’d better try and find where I’m staying before it gets dark. The address sounds a bit isolated.’

‘Where are you heading?’

‘I need to look for a turn-off about six kilometres past the hospital. I take Spencer Road and then head off on an unnamed road across the paddocks looking for a house by the lake. I’m told I can’t miss it.’

‘Sounds like Doc Patterson’s place.’

‘It is. He’s an old friend.’

‘No kidding?’ Jason shook his head as he pulled the back doors of the ambulance closed. ‘Small world, isn’t it? Is that why you’ve come to work in this area?’

‘No.’ Maggie’s smile was almost rueful. ‘It’s just a lucky coincidence.’

It was a coincidence. Maggie had had no idea that Hugo Patterson had settled near Queenstown when she’d applied for the ambulance station manager’s position. And it was lucky in that it was solving a temporary accommodation hassle, but Maggie had doubts about the arrangement. Surely, if Hugo had been happy about it, he would have contacted her himself and not sent a message and directions via their respective mothers. The message had also been unexpectedly welcoming. If Hugo was so keen to see her, why had he not made any contact for more than a decade? And why had Hugo’s mother deemed it necessary to give her the information that he was unmarried and in some kind of relationship with a most unsuitable woman? It was none of her business after all. Maybe she was heading into a situation she would regret.

She couldn’t regret her impulsive decision to try a new start in a totally new part of the country, however. Maggie completed the last few kilometres of her journey towards Queenstown completely awed by the magnificent surroundings. Some of the Southern Alps’ most impressive peaks towered over the deep, glacier-gouged lakes in the area and Wakatipu, the huge and icy-cold serpent-shaped lake she was approaching now was the most famous. Reading up on her destination recently, Maggie had been intrigued to learn that the lake ‘breathed’ with a rhythmical rise and fall of its water level every five minutes. Maori legend had the lake being formed when an evil, sleeping giant had been set on fire, melting the snow and ice of the nearby mountains to fill the eighty-kilometre-long lake. That the movements were caused by variations in atmospheric pressure was an explanation of far less appeal.

Hugo lived right on the shore of the breathing lake and Maggie suspected that he would present the scientific version of the peculiar phenomenon. Not that Hugo was unimaginative or stuffy, but he had always been a fount of knowledge, and old and wise enough to be completely trustworthy. He had been more than a big brother figure. Hugo Patterson had been the only man of any significance in Maggie’s early life and she had loved him as much as his sister Felicity had.

Far enough removed in years to have seemed always adult, Hugo had been there whenever it had mattered. He’d helped with child care, homework and transport. He’d put up with the girls’ teasing, ignored the minor pranks and applied appropriate justice when needed for the major ones. In retrospect, Maggie knew he’d been fair in reprimanding her more than Felicity on most occasions and she’d accepted those judgements eventually. She knew that an undercurrent of strong affection had tempered any disapproval and the fact that she had returned his affection had made the agonies of puppy fat, pimples, braces on her teeth and that appalling hair all the harder to bear.

Yes, his affection had been returned. And more. But Maggie had never admitted to that teenage crush, even to Felicity, and it had been easy to hide once Hugo had been away at medical school. Felicity’s death had finally severed their connection and the estrangement had hurt. The ultimate judgement had been that she had been in some way to blame for the tragedy and Maggie had been devastated enough to accept it without ever having the courage to challenge more than her own interpretation.

Maybe Hugo’s invitation to stay was an indication that the past was finally behind them. That they could both find the closure that had been somehow elusive despite the passage of so much time. The notion was welcome but it was also rather nerve-racking and Maggie freely admitted to herself that she was nervous. What she wasn’t prepared to admit was that part of the nervousness had nothing to do with having to relive past traumas. Maggie was drawn to this reunion for reasons she would never try to analyse too deeply.

It could be disguised as mere curiosity. The only photo she had of Hugo was nearly fifteen years old. Had age dimmed the strong lines of his face? Faded the rich dark brown of his hair? Had he gone bald perhaps and started wearing spectacles? And what kind of man was Hugo now? Maggie’s memories had built him into a yardstick by which all other men had eventually failed to measure up. What if she’d wasted the last ten years looking for a replica of someone who didn’t actually exist?

Nervousness was not an emotion that Maggie tolerated for long. Action overcame fear and Maggie had never lacked the confidence to take action. These days she had learned to think a little more carefully about consequences, however, and she was optimistic that she had made a good choice in coming to Central Otago. That she was going to see Hugo and possibly renew an old friendship was a bonus. She was looking forward to the responsibilities and challenges in taking up the job she loved passionately in a new and exciting place.

So new that Maggie had no idea where she was going and missed the turn-off at Frankton. Taking advantage of the error, she carried on into the township of Queenstown, promising herself a cup of good coffee after making the prudent purchase of a more detailed map of the area. The lack of any discernible twilight was disconcerting, as was the darkness when she finally doubled back along the main road, but Maggie simply gave herself a mental shake. She was going to have to be able to locate obscure addresses in the area at night soon enough. At least this would be a practice run without a potentially life-threatening emergency waiting at the other end.

The hospital complex was easy enough to spot and Maggie noted the ambulance station on site. She didn’t slow down for a better look, however. Hugo had probably been expecting her to arrive well before this and she didn’t want to add to any nuisance value her visit might already have caused. Spencer Road was also easy enough to find but driving over the rough shingle road that led off to the right felt like a venture into the totally unknown.

The darkness was a blanket, the empty spaces of paddocks on either side vaguely threatening, and the silence when Maggie stepped out of the car to open a wire gate was oppressive. This was the back of beyond, and somewhere at the end of this road lay a lake that housed a sleeping giant and a dwelling that housed a man that Maggie was suddenly almost frightened of seeing again.

‘Sorry I’m late. Something smells fantastic.’

‘It smelt a lot better half an hour ago.’ Joan accepted Hugo’s brief kiss and the bottle of wine he was holding. ‘Mmm. A white Burgundy. That’ll go perfectly with the fish. Or what’s left of it.’

‘Sorry,’ Hugo repeated. ‘I got held up. There was an MVA up the Cromwell gorge.’

‘Oh.’ Joan’s murmur was understanding, now. ‘How bad was it?’

‘Nothing serious. We just had to exclude a cervical fracture by X-ray. Bit of minor suturing. We discharged them both.’

‘I heard the sirens.’ Joan lived in the tiny settlement of Frankton, between the hospital and Queenstown. ‘But that was hours ago.’

‘It took a while to tidy everything up,’ Hugo responded. ‘You know what those cases can be like. Then I had to duck home for a bit.’ Hugo sat down on a cream leather sofa with a relaxed sigh. Joan’s apartment, a small unit in a complex overlooking the holiday camp, was a space that Hugo was now quite familiar with. Not as relaxing as being at home but pleasant, nonetheless. Not that he was given much time to unwind. He had to stand up again almost immediately as Joan placed a steaming platter on the dining table.

‘We may as well eat this before it dries out any more.’

The continued reminder of being later than he had forecast was irritating. So was the ‘please explain’ expression on Joan’s face.

‘Why did you have to go home?’

‘I was expecting a visitor. I thought she might have arrived and found the house locked up.’

‘She?’

‘Maggie.’ Hugo watched as Joan served a portion of what looked like an exotic mix of steamed trout and herbs. ‘She wasn’t there so I just left the house unlocked and a note telling her to make herself at home. I said I had an important date I didn’t want to miss.’ Hopefully, sharing the inspired if somewhat inaccurate content of the note would improve Joan’s uncharacteristically reserved mood.

Joan added little bundles of carrot slivers and green beans tied up in some kind of plant material to their plates and then sat down.

‘Who’s Maggie?’

‘An old family friend. My mother asked me to put her up for a few days.’

‘Oh.’ Joan’s smile reappeared. ‘She’s a friend of your mother’s, then?’

‘Not exactly.’ Hugo tasted the fish. ‘This is great,’ he enthused. ‘What are those little green things?’

‘Capers.’

‘Taste bombs, aren’t they?’ Hugo took another mouthful. ‘Wish I could cook like you do.’

Joan was extracting bones from her fish with surgical precision. ‘What do you mean by “not exactly”?’

Hugo repressed a sigh. ‘Maggie is like a kid sister, I guess. She was my sister Felicity’s best mate. They were like twins growing up.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sister.’

‘I don’t.’ This time the sigh escaped. ‘Not any more. She was killed in a car accident when she was nineteen.’

‘Oh…I’m so sorry, Hugh. I didn’t know.’

‘No,’ Hugo agreed sombrely. ‘Of course you didn’t. I never talk about her.’

The silence grew and had the effect of highlighting the distance suddenly apparent between them. Why had Hugo never spoken of such a personal catastrophe? Joan glanced at him several times before speaking again.

‘It’ll be nice to see her again, then. Maggie, I mean,’ she finished awkwardly.

‘I’m not sure about that,’ Hugo said slowly. Maybe it was time to be more open with Joan. The friendship had ticked along at a snail’s pace for so long now. Maybe it was time to test the waters and see if it was ever going to come to anything really meaningful. Time to give more of himself than he’d ever been prepared to with any woman.

‘Actually,’ he said quietly, ‘I haven’t seen Maggie since she and Felicity headed off to Europe when they were eighteen. That’s twelve years ago.’

‘And the accident happened overseas?’

‘In Greece.’ Hugo nodded. ‘They were in a van and it got hit by a bus and rolled over a cliff.’

‘And Maggie was driving?’

‘No.’ Hugo raised an eyebrow. ‘What makes you think that?’

Joan frowned. ‘I just got the impression that maybe you blame Maggie for the accident and that’s why you’re not so keen to see her again.’

‘Maybe I do,’ Hugo admitted. ‘Felicity should have been off to university when she finished school. She was very bright and she had a passion for history which was what she intended to major in. Taking a year off to go traipsing around Europe seemed like a waste of time. It was Maggie’s idea, of course.’

‘Why of course?’

‘Because it was always Maggie who had the ideas. Felicity was only too happy to trail in her wake. Anything Maggie thought of doing was wildly exciting but she would never have gone to Europe by herself. She never had that kind of confidence.’

‘And has Maggie never even made contact with you since the accident?’ Joan sounded horrified. ‘Surely she realised how devastating it must have been for you?’

‘She was pretty devastated herself.’ Hugo had known at the time that keeping his distance had been harsh but it had been the only way he could possibly have coped. ‘She was quite badly hurt in the accident herself so she couldn’t travel back for the funeral. She wrote a couple of times but I never got round to answering and months turned into years and I suppose neither of us would have wanted to revisit that part of our lives.’

‘So why did you offer to let her stay with you?’

‘I didn’t. My mother offered on my behalf.’ Hugo shook his head as he smiled. ‘She’s another woman who can be rather persuasive.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But never mind. I’m sure I can cope with seeing Maggie. I moved on from all that a long time ago.’ Hugo’s smile was for Joan this time. ‘That’s probably why I never bothered mentioning it to you.’

‘I’m glad you have,’ Joan told him. ‘So I guess it’s a good thing that you’re getting this visitor. Let’s just hope she’s not intending to stay for too long.’ She reached for the silver serving spoon. ‘Would you like some more of this trout? It’s not so bad after all, is it?’

The house was softly lit. Warm, inviting and…empty. Well, almost empty. Maggie grinned at the three dogs who were circling her feet, sniffing suspiciously.

‘It’s OK, guys. I’m not a burglar and I’ve got permission, see?’ She waved the note she had taken down from the front door. ‘This says I can make myself at home, the blue bedroom’s mine, there’s soup on the stove and you lot don’t bite.’ She held out her hand to one of the rangy black and white dogs, who backed away warily.

Maggie smiled ruefully. ‘I hope your owner’s a bit friendlier than you are. Or is he the one who bites?’

Pretending she was not miffed by the wall of canine suspicion, Maggie quickly explored the house. The main room was not huge but it felt spacious due to its open-plan design, leading at one end to the kitchen and dining area and opening to a television den at the other end. French doors to the verandah were draped against the chill of the night but Maggie could imagine the view on an early summer’s morning, watching the sun rise over the lake. The bedrooms also had French doors opening to the long verandah and Maggie had already spotted the casual wicker furniture on the wide outdoor extension to the house. Service areas, including two bathrooms and a laundry, were on the side of the house away from the lake but basically the dwelling was single-room width, built on the lake’s edge like a holiday cottage.

It seemed ancient. The wide, wooden floorboards had the rich patina of age and matched hardwood beams latticed the plaster ceilings of most of the rooms. The bathrooms and kitchen were up to date, however, and the old coal range that was keeping some delicious-smelling soup hot looked as though it had been kept purely for its aesthetic value. Furnishings appeared to have been chosen for comfort rather than style and the huge leather chair beside the woodburner looked as inviting as the soup smelt.

Maggie was tired. She had started the long drive down from the ferry terminal at Picton yesterday and had stopped overnight in Christchurch. She thought she’d paced the journey well but the interruption of dealing with that accident had drained any remaining energy. She pulled only the bare essentials of her possessions from her car to put in the spare bedroom with the pale, blue walls and darker blue bed covering, and then went to explore more thoroughly what the kitchen had to offer. A loaf of bread topped a wooden board beside the stove and Maggie helped herself to a thick slice, breaking off a piece of crust to nibble as she hunted for a suitable mug to ladle soup into. She noticed the eyes then. Four of them, with another two lurking a little further back. She grinned.

‘Oh…I’m not so bad now that I’m holding food, is that the story?’

A tail thumped. Then another. Maggie could have sworn the dogs exchanged vaguely embarrassed glances before sidling closer. Maggie held out what was left of the crust. ‘So, who’s going to be brave enough to go first, then?’

She hoped Hugo wasn’t a big eater. If he’d intended that loaf of bread for his breakfast he might be annoyed to find that Maggie had shared so much of it with his pets as she’d bribed them into friendship.

‘Mind you, we don’t have to tell him, do we?’ Maggie put the empty soup mug down on top of the pile of medical journals covering the table beside the chair. She curled her legs up so that she could lean more comfortably into the lovely old leather cushions. She scratched the set of ears that stood out from the rest by having one black and one white. The dog closed its eyes wearily.

‘Come on, then.’ Maggie drew her legs into a tighter ball and patted the space she had created on the chair beside her. ‘You look like you need a rest as much as I do.’

It was later than Hugo had intended by the time he headed home but he hadn’t expected to have to spend his evening making amends. He still wasn’t quite sure what he had been trying to atone for. His lateness, initially, but then what? Not Joan’s suspicions about him having a female house guest. He had no reason to feel guilty about that. It was more likely to have been the revelation of how little they really knew each other that had made him feel so guilty.

Hugo suspected he had spent the last three hours or so trying to do something about his lack of involvement in the relationship. Trying to let Joan know that he hadn’t been simply stringing her along for reasons of personal convenience. He had even kissed her with more enthusiasm than usual, too, but the lack of any overwhelming ambition to take her to bed still hadn’t changed. It had been Joan who had decreed that they take things slowly but a year was a bit ridiculous in anyone’s book, wasn’t it? And why hadn’t he felt inspired to do something about it?

He was too tired to worry about it now and it was irritating to feel like he had something else he would need to make amends for when he went into his own home. Maggie had probably felt unwelcome, arriving to an empty house with an impersonal note taped to the door. But she wasn’t welcome, was she? Maggie Johnston carried with her too many reminders of things Hugo had done his best to move on from. The thought of stirring parts of his soul best left to lie in peace was disturbing. It had been tough enough telling Joan the bare facts. Hugo realised then that that was the reason he had spent so long in Joan’s company tonight. He would have denied it strongly but he had been nervous about going home.

What was he going to find? A Mack truck filling the woolshed? An older but still stroppy female who might make demands on the strength of their past association? Trouble had always followed Maggie like a boisterous puppy, ready to leap unexpectedly and over-enthusiastically into prominence but never causing major damage. At least, not until that ill-fated trip overseas. Hugo shook his head. There was no point revisiting any of that again until he had to.

And maybe Maggie had changed. There was no vast truck parked in his woolshed. Just a very ordinary, small Toyota hatchback. And his house looked perfectly peaceful. Quiet. Too quiet, maybe. Where were the dogs? Had Maggie given up waiting for him to come home and taken herself off to bed? Hugo let himself into the house carefully so as not to disturb his guest if she was asleep. He clicked the front door shut quietly and trod softly across the short hallway to enter the living room. Then, two steps into the room, he stopped.

Maggie was asleep. Curled up in his big, leather chair. Two dogs lay guarding her feet, including Tuck—the dog who accepted no stranger but now had his nose resting on the chair’s cushion. And Lass, who was so shy it had taken Hugo weeks to win her trust, was actually on the chair with Maggie, coiled into a ball that fitted neatly behind Maggie’s knees. The gaze she bestowed on Hugo was frankly guilty and the white-tipped tail waved apologetically.

It was the movement of the dog that woke Maggie. She blinked in confusion for a long moment as Hugo stared back at her but then her face came alive, the smile extending to a delighted grin as she scrambled to her feet, scattering reluctant dogs.

‘Hugo!’

And with the sound of her voice myriad memories rushed at him. He could hear two voices. Young girls of about eight or nine. Teasing him as he arrived home from school.

‘Hugo!’

‘No, you go!’

‘No! Hugo!’

He could hear the echo of giggles but he could also remember the welcome that had lain beneath the teasing. Who else had ever been that pleased to see him? Had lain in wait to tease him unmercifully but had also sought him out to share something new and exciting or seek assistance when, once again, they had landed themselves in some kind of trouble?

Only Maggie and Felicity, that was who. And now it was just Maggie, but the pleasure of seeing him was there in her eyes and it was just the same. Hugo had to breathe in past the painful constriction his throat was experiencing.

‘Oh, Maggie,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’ And to his astonishment, he found the words were true.

He held out his arms and then, to his consternation, Maggie’s grin faded and gold-flecked hazel eyes sparkled with gathering tears. But then Maggie was in his arms and Hugo was being hugged with breathtaking enthusiasm and he was aware of nothing but the feeling that a huge chunk of his life that he had believed had gone for ever had just—miraculously—been given back to him.