Taking the Leap

Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE



Anya Fraser picked up the magazine and shuddered at the parachute jump picture. It looked exhilarating, kind of, but a part of her suspected it was terror hell in freefall form.

The girl in the picture sported vast orange aviator overalls that billowed in the wind. Hardly a look her wardrobe had been waiting to emulate. And g-force cheeks weren’t something she needed to experience first hand anytime soon either.

“That could be you,” said Katie’s voice on the other end of the line. “Wind hurtling past your ears, adrenaline pumping through your veins like you’re powered by pistons. And a rugged instructor strapped to you for added security. Now that’s what I call exciting. We could christen you the parachuting practice nurse!”

Anya gulped.

That’s what she called a personal Room 101.

More like her breakfast whooshing through her system to make a prompt reappearance in mid-air. No thanks.

The wild-haired female extreme sports enthusiast grinned out of the picture, arms across her chest in mid air descent. Her parachute firmly fixed to her back, her goggles framed a grimace style smile. Were her jaws wired to make it look appealing as opposed to revealing her abject terror?

“How many miles up did you say it would be?”

“Ten thousand feet, in tandem with an instructor.”

Hello ‘Red Arrows’. Goodbye bladder control.

Could there be enough chocolate in the world to persuade her stomach it could withstand a charity parachute jump? Anya doubted it. She pushed the magazine aside.



“I’m not convinced, Katie. I’ll think it over. I wish you all the best with your efforts but I can’t commit myself.”

“I’ll work on you, you can’t decline yet. We’ll raise lots of cash. You can get the staff at the practice on board. A team of us, all raising much-needed money for Adoption Support. Maybe we’ll fund an extra social work post? And we’ll get press coverage into the bargain. The support of your practice would be immeasurably valuable.”

There it was. Katie’s clever persuasive ploy. Her up-beat persistence made her so good at her job as co-ordinator for East Scotland Adoption Support charity. The organisation badly needed funds and the parachute jump would make a big difference. Plus East Scotland Adoption Support held a special place in Anya’s heart, because it had helped her through the early days after placement of her own adopted son, Callum. The boy who’d made her infertility and lost relationship battles bearable, the golden haired child of her dreams, her own little slice of treasure.

“How can I say no?”

“Exactly! There are too many good reasons to participate,” Katie declared.

More to the point, how could a woman with her ‘heights aversion’ realistically say yes?

“It’s a bit more life threatening than selling charity Christmas cards,” Anya said wryly. “Couldn’t I cheer instead, like a mascot? With pom poms?”

“But think of the thrills. Callum will be so proud of his brave, adventurous Mummy. He’ll think you rock.”

“He’ll have to settle for a mum who’s good at making glitter pictures and who cooks a mean lasagne.”

Anya watched butter ooze down the holes in her crumpet. She couldn’t face it and pushed it away with a grimace. The very thought of a freefall jump had turned her right off. Even if it did convince her son of her superhero Mum credentials.

Why did Katie insist on making her do challenging things her nerves reared away from? Like confronting Grant about the separation. Going through with the split after eight years together. Like completing the adoption process as a single woman. Like going out again, having a social life after Grant. Like taking control of her life. Scary, scary stuff.

Anya balanced the cordless phone on her shoulder; it fitted snugly into the ample collar of her furry robe.

“I’ll give it serious thought.” Anya picked up her coffee and sipped. “Did you say if the instructor is amazingly attractive? Great pecs, firm shoulders. Tight buns for personal inspection?”

Katie laughed. “I’m a charity fund raiser. Not a miracle worker.”

Catching sight of her haphazard reflection in the glass door, Anya groaned. Sleepy blue-grey eyes looked back, complete with matching luggage. Her hair was still dented by shower-wet kicks.

“C’mon this is your chance. Do something daring. Rise to the challenge.” Katie hammered her point home like an enthusiastic woodpecker. “I know you’ll succeed. It’s there shining bright and you’re evading the challenge.”

“Nope, I’m avoiding physical injury from a massive height.”

During her brief absence from the lounge the squirrel had reappeared. He habitually frequented her window ledge to perform death-defying tricks. He regarded her; perhaps he’d come to make her feel guilty about declining the sponsored jump? She normally encouraged him because Callum loved him but today her sense of charity wasn’t at home to visitors. And watching said squirrel leaping around mid air felt a little too close to their current topic for comfort.

“Have you heard the news about Dr. Max?” Katie asked.

“No. What about him?”

Max Calder, a.k.a the handsome General Practitioner. The guy at the village’s other practice who had single women swooning, married ones wishing and gay men having wild, fantasy dreams about his bedside manner. Not that there were many gay men in the modest Scottish coastal village of Alderwick Loch.

He was dashing, mid-thirties, single and notably sexy. Her friends often quoted Anya’s one-time late-night confession on Max’s merits. She had foolishly admitted to a glimmer of private attraction for the dark haired, swarthy bodied Scots doctor with the wonderful magic smile.

A fact Anya blamed on a pure fantasy x-rated dream about him in full-kilted Braveheart guise. Heart-stopping stuff.

The grapevine suggested Max played the part of hero admirably, too. He’d worked in disaster zones and done a stint as a voluntary doctor in Africa during his twenties.

“He’s joining Cala Muir Medical Centre as Senior Partner. He’ll be your new colleague soon enough. Apparently the announcement’s due tomorrow. But Max told his friend who told Marie and she told me. The dreamboat doctor’s going to be working with you. How’s that for excitement?”

Suddenly Anya sorely wished she hadn’t uttered that confession about the effect his good looks had on her. Drat, the perils of strong wine and friends with long memories.

Being a practice nurse in close proximity to Max. Wow, this would take some getting used to. Some surviving. Some hiding the impact.

Anya parried with a non-committal reply, “I’m pleased he’s got it. But I wonder why he wanted to change practices?”

“Prospects, fresh challenge. The sexiest nurse in Alderwick Loch? How will you resist him, handcuffs?”

“Don’t tempt me.” Anya burst into laughter. “If you could see me now in my dressing gown, fresh from the shower, you so wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Come on, Anya? Please say yes to the charity jump. I’ll hold your hand going down if it helps.”

A wicked voice in Anya’s head wished Max Calder were the instructor and that he’d hold her hand throughout the ordeal. Naughty wicked voice, back into a dark corner you go.

A burning ember of anticipation caught light, shining enticingly, and Anya smiled into the phone.

Could she launch herself from a plane and raise funds at being foolhardy enough to try? If a man like Max Calder could decide to swap jobs for a new challenge surely she could face silly fears and prove she had chutzpah enough to do this for her son. Could she counter the head demons telling her not to even dare?

“Send me the sponsor forms Katie and I’ll give you an answer by Friday. You so owe me for this one.”

“Fabulous news! And how about a meal at San Remo tomorrow night? Pasta, fine wine, and a choc gelato dessert to tip the balance towards hedonism.”

“Done.”

“And you can tell me more revelations about your feelings for the gorgeous Max Calder?”

“Some things,” Anya said simply, “are going too far.”

She curled up her toes in her slippers and thought hard.

Max Calder joining Cala Muir Practice. Wow! How long ‘til his handsome head appeared, brightening her days, haunting her nights?

Suddenly the front door flew open with a crash thud against the wall.

“Callum, careful!”

“Mummy, Mummy, I missed you!” Callum shouted from the doorway, peeling off his jacket.

“I’ll have to go, Katie. Cal’s back from the childminder.”

“Keep reading that jump article in the magazine,” Katie instructed. “It’s our year for challenging new dares; we’re running the risk.”

Anya’s son Callum ran like a rugby tackler and made a headbutt dive right at her abdomen. She struggled for balance and to replace the phone after saying farewells to Katie. He grinned up at her, his golden blonde hair fuzzy like an angel halo. Anya reflected that the winded feeling from Callum’s buffeting would be similar to the breathless sensation of jumping out of a plane several thousand feet from the ground.

“Wait ‘til you see the picture I’ve made you, Mummy. It’s of Martians. Invading from space.”

Right now Martians were way preferable to freefalling from aircraft for fun. Some things took time to work up sufficient courage to face.

* * * *