THE LITTLE FACE stared back out of the window as Freya gave her a nervous wave from the new school. Bonnie sucked in a breath and kept the smile plastered to her face, waving back as merrily as she could. Please be okay.

Her thick winter coat was stifling her already. Even at this time of year, Cambridge was unexpectedly warmer than Scotland. She could feel an uncomfortable trickle of sweat run down her spine. The teacher came to the window and, glancing at Bonnie, ushered Freya away. Freya’s red curls had already started to escape from the carefully styled pleat. By the time she came home later her hair would be back to its usual fluffy head style. She could almost hear the teacher’s thoughts in her head: over-anxious parent.

She wasn’t. Not really. But travelling down from Scotland yesterday with their worldly goods stuffed into four suitcases was hardly ideal. The motel they’d ended up staying in was even less pleasant. The smell of damp and mildew in the room had set off alarm bells that it might cause a flare-up of Freya’s asthma. With Christmas not too far away, she desperately needed to sort out somewhere more suitable to stay. And the combination of everything, plus dropping Freya at a brand-new school this morning, had left her feeling rattled.

The director of midwifery at Cambridge Royal Maternity Unit had been quite insistent on her start date. No compromise. The ward sister had just taken early maternity leave due to some unexpected problems. They needed an experienced member of staff as soon as possible. And she hadn’t felt in a position to argue—despite the fact they’d had nowhere to stay. The job in Cambridge was her way out of Scotland. And, boy, did she need out.

Working at such a prestigious hospital was appealing. Everyone knew about the two-hundred-year-old hospital and one night, midway between tears and frustration, she’d applied. When they’d emailed back the next day to arrange a telephone interview she’d been surprised. And when they’d told her the next day she had the job she’d been stunned. Things had moved at a rapid pace ever since. References, occupational health forms and a formal offer telling her they wanted her to start straight away.

Thankfully, she’d had a sympathetic community manager in Scotland who knew about her circumstances and had done a little jigging to allow her to take annual leave and special leave to let her only work two weeks’ notice. The last two weeks had passed in a complete blur.

This morning had been hard. There had been tears and sniffles from Freya, a normally placid child. Bonnie held her breath. The school window remained empty; it was clear the teacher had successfully distracted her.

With a sigh of relief she glanced at her watch. Yikes. First day and she was going to be late. She hurried back to the bus stop. Getting a car was next on the ‘to do’ list. She phoned and left a message on the director of midwifery’s answerphone—hardly a good start for her first day on the job. But it couldn’t be helped. The woman knew she wasn’t arriving until last night and that her daughter was starting a new school today. She still had to hand some paperwork into HR and pick up her uniforms before she could start on the labour ward.

For once, she was in luck. The bus appeared almost immediately. Now it was daylight and she could actually see a bit of the beautiful city she’d decided to live in on almost a whim.

Well, a whim that was a result of catching her husband in bed with her best friend. She should still feel angry and hurt. But all she really felt was relief. As soon as the ink was dry on the divorce papers she’d started job hunting. She needed a fresh start and there was something so exciting about coming to a historic city like Cambridge. She watched as the Victorian-style shops and Grade II listed buildings whizzed past and allowed herself to smile a little. Cambridge was truly an atmospheric city; seeing it in daylight made her all the more excited to get a chance to see round about.

The hospital came into a view. A large, imposing building based in the heart of the bustling city. A little tremor of anticipation

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