‘Eight as of Tuesday,’ Grace reminded her, and Emily winced.

‘Thanks very much.’

‘He was a creep, Em, and you know it,’ Grace retorted. ‘I refuse to concede that you can possibly mourn the guy.’

‘I’ll mourn anyone I like.’

‘Why don’t you have an affair with Cal?’

‘Cal’s got an affair,’ Emily retorted. ‘As of now.’ She managed a smile. ‘Actually, an affair and a bit. A bit about three feet high. So concentrate on Cal’s love life. Leave mine alone.’

‘OK,’ Grace said obligingly. ‘If you insist. And Cal’s affair is fascinating. A woman and a son arriving out of nowhere, when we all thought he was a fusty old bachelor…’

‘Thanks a lot,’ Cal managed, and even Jill chuckled.

‘But here he is, with a son…’

‘Is he really your son?’ Jill asked, wondering, and Cal groaned.

‘Jill, at least you can keep out of what’s not your business.’

‘We love you, Cal,’ Emily said solidly. ‘Get used to it.’

‘I don’t think I ever will.’

‘It’s called living,’ Em told him, and she turned from the monitor to look down at her little patient. ‘Something this little man is about to do. Oh, well done, us. Now all we need to do is find you a mummy and a daddy.’

‘And find out whether Cal’s a daddy, too,’ Grace said mischievously.

‘Enough.’ Jill had been jolted out of clinical efficiency but her flashes of humour never lasted long. There was levity in her operating Theatre and levity was to be squashed. ‘Back to work.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ they said in unison.

Where was Gina? All Cal wanted to do was to find her, and he couldn’t.

There were myriad things to do before he was finished. Blood tests to order. Harry Blake to be contacted-the police sergeant who’d be in charge of trying to find the mother. A mass of paperwork that had to be done-now. ‘Because this case will hit the national press unless I’m mistaken, and I want everything done right,’ Charles had growled.