Matilda Next Door - Kelly Hunter Page 0,61

happy, despite not having a mother.

‘Kids. Who would believe it of us?’ Ben shook his head. ‘Appreciate you coming down. Makes it easy that we can settle in here together before Holly goes into labour.’

‘Nice for me to get away. I need a break from home and you needing me for six months is perfect. Thanks for setting us up with Sandy; knowing a good babysitter makes it smooth.’

‘We’re experts with babysitters. Been juggling for a while now. It’ll be nice to spend time with the family when I do go on leave.’

‘You have a baby in order to get holidays?’ Jace teased him.

‘This one wasn’t planned. Holly kept one day a week in the surgery to stay current. Sandy’s a treasure with the twins and comes across to pick them up. Jemima will love her.’

Sounded hectic to Jace. ‘When’s your baby due?’

‘Six weeks, but Holly’s tired and happy to give up her office to you now. Even happier I’ll be on leave before the baby comes. Come in and look around.’

Jace followed his friend up the two steps into the surgery entrance, then into a light, roomy waiting room with lots of empty chairs and stopped at the front desk with Ben.

‘Jace Bronson, this is Imelda Miles, receptionist extraordinaire and best scone maker in Wirralong.’

‘Hello, Jace. Good to meet you.’

‘And you, Imelda.’ They nodded and both looked at Jemima who jammed her face against Jace’s shoulder.

‘And who’s this?’ The smiling, older lady with the same pure white hair his mother had—a good omen, Jace hoped—lifted a hand in an enthusiastic wave at Jemima.

‘Jemima.’

‘And nice to meet you, too, Jemima.’

Ben gestured to one of the consulting rooms and Jace waved back at the receptionist and followed his friend in for a look.

One wall of the consulting room, the one that faced the street, had been built out of glass bricks, letting in light while maintaining solid patient privacy. The desk stretched large and mahogany in front of the light from the frosted glass, and on the back wall behind a pulled-back curtain the examination couch hid. The computer and printer looked state-of-the-art, as did the instruments and monitoring equipment, and from what he’d seen already, everything else in the surgery.

‘Nice set-up, Ben.’

‘Furnished from scratch,’ Ben said. ‘Everything was new a couple of years ago, when I moved to town.’

Lucky for him, Jace thought. It made it easy for someone who’d been working as a paediatrician, with all his equipment mostly child sized. ‘Suits me not to have to order anything. We’re only here six months.’

‘We’re not trumpeting that to the populace. You never know. You might decide to stay longer.’ Ben waggled his brows and changed the subject. ‘This will be your room, I’ll keep my office, in case you get snowed under, and there’s a mini-surgery treatment room, and an immunisation room. When I go on leave, the new midwife will use my office for antenatal appointments, unless I come in to help.’

‘When does she arrive?’

‘Tomorrow. Lacey, the previous midwife, has her second baby due a week before ours.’

Jace gestured at the window. ‘Do you need a midwife in a small practice like this?’ He had reservations about midwives.

Ben laughed. ‘Don’t let Lacey hear you say that. In truth, best thing I ever did was hire her. And this new midwife is a friend of hers from Perth. Holly interviewed her via video conference and we met her in person last week. We’re very impressed. Lacey and her friend are both women’s health nurses, and I know Lacey’s incredible with the mums and bubs in town. Between her and Holly we have nearly every family in town on our books.’

He pretended to grimace. ‘In my usual working day, I get the senior citizens who are lovely, haemorrhoids—not so lovely—and all the crusty men. They’ll be your clientele.’

Jace laughed. ‘Sounds a different demographic to my kids in the city.’

‘Oh, I think you’ll enjoy small-town medicine.’

Jace rubbed the back of his neck. He hoped so. ‘Not something I would have thought five years ago.’

Ben’s face creased into a teasing grin. ‘You always were going to be the hot-shot paed. Will you miss that?’

Jace shrugged. He couldn’t deal with dying kids. Not after he lost his wife and unborn baby. He knew what it was to have a gaping hole in the family. When tragedy struck for one of their small clients, they’d had the support of each other. Without Jenny … ‘Be a nice change to deal with kids who aren’t