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Callum ran his hands through his dark blond hair, dishevelling it as he so often did when he was worried. ‘No, munchkin, I’m not upset. I just worry.’ He pulled her into a rough hug.

‘So if you’re not upset, then can I have an ice cream?’ Sarah wheedled.

‘I told you, I have to go into the surgery today.’ He hesitated as her bottom lip stuck out, trembling with the threat of more tears. ‘But if you hurry, we can stop by the bakery on the way to your sitter’s and you can pick out a cake for lunch. Deal?’

‘Can it be a Brockle cake?’

‘Yes, I’m sure it can.’

‘Deal.’ Her face lit up, and Callum wished every problem in life could be solved so easily.

* * *

Liv darted into the pharmacy and ran her finger along the few options she had to replace her ruined stockings. She’d arrived in the village early to try and minimise her anxiety, but was quickly running out of time. She gave the girl behind the counter a brief smile, fully aware she’d likely be working with her in the future, but wanting to avoid striking up a conversation.

Clutching the new stockings, she raced back to her car and grabbed her black leather bag from the boot before nipping into the small café.

‘Welcome to Brockle’s Paws. What can I get you?’ The woman behind the counter wore a black apron with a badger picked out in white embroidery.

‘Just a medium tea to go, please.’ Liv handed over a note and dropped the change into the tip jar.

‘Thanks. Be ready in a minute.’

‘Perfect. Where’s the bathroom, please?’

‘Round the corner’ — she pointed — ‘the one labelled “Sows”.’

‘Sows? Like pigs?’ Liv was appalled.

‘Dunno about pigs . . .’ She laughed as she poured milk into a frothing jug. ‘But it certainly applies to badgers.’

‘Right. Bit of a theme in here, badgers.’ Liv looked around, taking in the black and white décor, and pen and ink sketches of the furry woodland creatures.

The café was a cosy looking place, with a mismatch of tables, chairs, squishy couches and huge booths that could probably seat a dozen people each, and looked to be made out of huge old church pews. With yet more pictures of badgers decorating their wooden sides.

‘If it is, it’s one for the whole village. Broclington means Badger’s Town.’

‘Yeah, I think I remember reading something about that. But I hadn’t realised they would be everywhere like this.’ Liv was still smiling to herself as she headed to the bathroom to clean up her throbbing knee. She had less than quarter of an hour. It wasn’t much, but it should be enough time to patch herself up, calm herself down and take the short walk back to the surgery.

She looked into the mirror and smoothed her hair back into place. She wasn’t too dishevelled from the incident in the park. At least not outwardly. Internally, she felt much more shaken up. As much as she hadn’t wanted to admit it, she’d been attracted to the tall, strong blond with the kind blue eyes and warm smile. The knowledge made her stomach twist.

She didn’t want to be attracted to anyone — not when she was still healing from the abysmal way Mike had treated her. She’d thought they’d been in love and planning on spending the rest of their lives together — she certainly had. And when they moved into their rundown flat together — all they could afford at the time — she had loved every minute they’d spent making it into a beautiful and chic place to live — a proper city apartment.

When he’d abandoned her, right when she’d needed him the most, it hurt more than anything. Even more than being stabbed.

She shook her head to clear the ugly memories, and splashed cold water on her face. She’d already promised herself she wasn’t going to waste any more time on Mike, or any other man, including good-looking strangers she probably wouldn’t see again — except maybe in the professional doctor/patient setting.

Gingerly, she pulled her silky blue blouse up and examined her side carefully. The skin running parallel with the inside of her left hip, just above her underwear, was puckered and raised in an angry line, but there was no blood or signs of further trauma. Sighing with relief, she peeled off her ruined stockings and got to work cleaning her knee.

She was just straightening her skirt when the commotion started. Hesitantly, she peered around the door.

The cute little café had exploded in chaos centred around a small boy who gasped for breath on the floor, and an older woman by his side, begging someone to help.

For a moment, Liv was frozen by a flood of memories as the warm, welcoming café faded away and was replaced by the bright, chaotic, fast-paced noise of the A&E she was used to. She could almost hear the beeps and alarms, and smell the acrid disinfectant and antiseptics that permeated the place. Shock and worry held her feet to the floor as panic threatened to take hold. She was used to emergency situations, but she’d managed to avoid them recently. And before that, she would never have been in one by herself. There would always have been dozens of other people around to help — nurses, consultants, radiologists, anaesthetists, surgeons and other doctors — a veritable army to offer any backup she could possibly need.

Adrenaline shot through her veins, and her training kicked in. It didn’t matter where she was, or who was around her, she had the skills needed. Before she’d even consciously thought about helping, she was on her knees by her new patient. The boy’s swollen lips were already turning blue as Liv reached for the carotid pulse in his neck.

‘It’s all right. I’m a doctor,’ she reassured the crowd. ‘Let me have some room to work, please. Has someone called an ambulance?’