Resisting Her English Doc

by Annie Claydon

  “Is that all right, Fleur?” Rick questioned her gently.

  “Yes... Play them...”

  Rick took the tapes from the folder, examining the written labels. “This looks like the first one.” He inserted it into the player, pressing the “play” button.

  She heard Sheriff Taylor’s avuncular tones, along with her own, frightened and crying. But after only a couple of minutes the sheriff announced that they would take a break and the tape shut off.

  “What happened there?” Rick looked as puzzled as Fleur felt. “Do you remember that?”

  “I... I don’t know.” Fleur thought hard. “Yes...yes, I do. He went to get me some soda and he was gone for ages. I thought he must have had to go out and get it from the store, and that it was kind of him to do it.”

  “Okay.” Rick reached for another tape. “This one’s marked as the second one...”

  This one was a taped telephone call. Sheriff Taylor was talking to Evan’s father, telling him the time of the attack and where it had been. Evan’s father responded, saying that his son had been home all evening.

  “Can you make this go away, Frank?”

  “If I do, I want your boy off the island. Tonight. And I don’t want to see his face here again.”

  The call ended, and Rick turned the player off with a sharp jab of his finger. He was obviously angry, but all Fleur could feel was numb confusion.

  “That’s outrageous!” Rick exclaimed. “He was practically feeding him with a story, and then he explicitly says he can make it go away. It sounds as if Sheriff Taylor knew this man...”

  Jim nodded. “They used to go out fishing together. You remember him saying that he was going to make a call, Fleur?”

  Fleur shook her head. “I’m sure he never told me that he talked to anyone else. I just thought he was going for soda...”

  Jim suddenly sprang to his feet and fetched one of the boxes of tissues along with a glass of water, putting them down on the table in front of her. It was only then that Fleur realized there were tears rolling down her cheeks, and she’d been too shocked to even notice.

  Rick was looking at her, concern on his face. “Are you all right?”

  “No. I don’t think I am. But I have to hear the last tape.” Nothing that she’d thought she’d known about that night was true anymore. She had to know if the truth was what she hoped it might be.

  Rick put the third tape into the player. It started with the popping sound of a soda can being opened, and Sheriff Taylor’s voice, telling Fleur that he needed to hear her story again, right from the beginning. He was questioning her closely, pulling out every little inconsistency in what she said, and when she refused to give the names of her friends, he asked her how he was supposed to believe her. By the time the tape had finished, she was clinging to Rick, held tight in his arms.

  There was a long silence. Then Rick spoke.

  “I don’t think there’s much doubt about what happened here.”

  “What...what do you think happened?” Fleur thought she knew, but she didn’t dare say it. “Could you tell me how it sounds to you? Please...”

  “Okay. Well, I noticed that Sheriff Taylor stopped the first interview right after you said Evan’s name. He told you he was going to get you a drink, and went off to phone Evan’s father, who agreed to get his son off the island if the sheriff made the problem go away. Then Sheriff Taylor performed his end of the bargain, and came back and trashed your story so it wouldn’t be taken any further.”

  Fleur reached for the glass of water in front of her, taking a gulp. That was what she’d heard as well. “And do you think that my story would have held up?”

  “Fleur, what is this? We both just heard the tape...”

  “I want to know how it seems to you, Rick. It’s important.”

  He shot her a questioning look, and then he smiled. “You want to know if Sheriff Taylor had any reason to say that you wouldn’t be believed.”

  “Yes...yes.” Fleur grabbed another tissue from the box. She was beginning to understand the impact that Sheriff Taylor’s assertion had made on her life. No one would have believed her, so she hadn’t answered the gossips back. No one would have believed her so she hadn’t told her parents how she had really been feeling, had just plowed all her energies into dance and getting off the island. All these years she’d been driven by that one lie.

  “Well, I’d say that your facial injuries are very telling, and if I saw a patient with that kind of bruising my first thought would be that they’d been assaulted, not that they’d fallen. Despite all the pressure you were under, you told your story coherently, and it’s perfectly obvious why you wouldn’t give up the names of your friends.”

  “And...the parts where I got things wrong?”

  “Recall is a reconstructive process. You got a few little details wrong and then you corrected yourself, but overall your account was clear and consistent. Lara was a teacher and she used to say—”

  He broke off suddenly, as if he was having second thoughts about mentioning his wife. Then Rick smiled suddenly, as if it was okay after all.

  “Lara used to say that when she wanted to know if one of the teenagers she taught was lying, she just kept quiet and listened. Generally speaking, the ones who were telling the truth said what they had to say, then stopped. The ones that were lying used to keep going, keep on embellishing until they tied themselves up in knots. By her test, you were telling the truth. And everything I know about dealing with people tells me that you were telling the truth, too.”

  “So maybe the jury would have believed me.” Fleur puffed out a sigh of relief.

  “That’s not what we’re here to find out, Fleur. You’re not on trial, Sheriff Taylor is. And from what I’ve heard here, he’s both a liar and a bully...” Rick paused. “Bully’s not a strong enough word actually.”

  “Abuse of a minor. Corruption...” Jim supplied a few more, and Rick nodded in agreement.

  “What I don’t understand is why he left this file here, though, Jim. It’s pretty damning.”

  “The file wasn’t in the cabinet with the others. We had to drill the old safe out when I started, and there were a few files in there. I didn’t look through them properly at first, as there was a lot to do, so Emma just filed everything away in the cabinet.”

  “But for him to keep it here at all...” Rick still looked perplexed.

  Fleur could answer that. “Sheriff Taylor left very unexpectedly. He went on holiday for a couple of weeks to see his sister and had a massive stroke while he was there. He’s never recovered, and he’s been in a high-level care facility ever since in Florida, close to his sister.”

  The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. Fleur reached forward, taking a tissue and sipping from the glass of water. “This is such a great room, Jim...”

  “Thanks. We spent a bit of time on it.” Jim smiled proudly. “Do you want me to reopen the case, Fleur?”

  Fleur shook her head. She had what she needed now. Her grown-up self had been able to look back at what had happened, and she knew that she’d been in the right.

  “Sheriff Taylor’s a sick man, and I don’t want to take this any further. Things have changed here, and that’s what really matters. What do you think, Jim?”

  “I reckon you’re right. The only thing to be gained is your peace of mind.”

  “That’s something I can work on now.”

  * * *

  Rick’s heart had gone out to Fleur when he’d heard her voice on that tape. Only the knowledge that he had to stay strong for her had kept him from driving his fist into the wall. That, and the fact that he reckoned that Jim Brady would probably arrest him for fooling with the décor.

  But she was strong. And in that strength she’d found compassion. In that moment, he couldn’t have loved her more if he’d tried. Rick ignored the fo
ur-letter word in favor of holding her close.

  Jim sat there quietly, giving her time to regain her composure, before gathering up the tapes and putting them back into the file. “I want to stick closely to the book on this. I’ll transcribe the tapes myself and write up an account of this meeting. I’d be obliged if you’d countersign it, Fleur.”

  “Of course, Jim. I’d also like to write something that formally thanks you for your handling of this matter, and says that I don’t want to take it any further now.”

  Jim’s smile said it all. He was a good man, and this had obviously pricked at his conscience. “That’ll keep the paperwork straight.”

  When they left, Rick shook Jim’s hand. No words were needed, the sheer force of the handshake said it all. Then he and Fleur stepped outside onto the sidewalk, the sky seeming suddenly very blue and unclouded.

  “All these years...” Fleur was standing with her hands in her pockets, looking up at the sky. “Sheriff Taylor told me that no one would believe me, and I thought he must be the one to know. I didn’t listen to the people that I should have listened to. I just ran away.”

  “Is dance really running away?” Rick almost hoped it was. If Fleur could stop running now, maybe she’d stay on Maple Island.

  She thought for a moment. “I used it to run away. That doesn’t mean I don’t love dance theater. I can just love it with a clearer conscience now.”

  Rick nodded. “I understand that. When I told the story about Lara... I’ve never been able to get past the picture I had in my mind of when she was ill. It tainted everything. But then I remembered her the way she would have wanted, doing her job well and standing up for the kids she taught. It’s what she deserved, and she would have liked that.”

  Fleur shot him a brilliant smile. “Seems as if we’ve both made a journey, then.”

  “Yeah. Too bad those journeys look as if they’ll end up in different places. Me here, and you on the mainland.”

  They stood for a moment, watching the bustle of Main Street. Fleur seemed to be drawing the clean air into her lungs, breathing the pain back out again.

  “So...what would you like to do now?”

  “I think I have to go and see Mom and Dad. I never told them how I was really feeling after what happened, I just pretended that everything was okay. And I stayed away. There’s so much I’ve missed out on with them, and I want to know if I can make up for it. Do you think they’ll understand?”

  “I’m sure they will. I’ll drop you round there now, if you like. I have to pick up Ellie.”

  The smile dropped from her face. “I thought...you might...”

  “Or if you want, we could both pick Ellie up and go round there? I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind if I kept her entertained while you talked.” The thought that she might still need him, or just want him around, warmed him.

  “I’d really like that. See it through together, eh?”

  * * *

  They’d spent the whole of the evening with Fleur’s parents. Josh had stationed Ellie in front of the television with one of her favorite films, and invited Rick to sit at the kitchen table with them. They’d worked their way through two pots of tea, and Fleur had told her parents the whole story.

  Josh had been angry, but Fleur had persuaded him that her decision to take the matter no further was the right one for her. And if Fleur seemed to have shed her burden, then so did Josh and Maura. The years of carefully avoiding the subject had been forgotten, and the warmth of a family meal together seemed to seal the closure.

  However much Rick wanted her to come back to the lighthouse with him, Fleur needed this time with her parents. He carried Ellie to the car, sleeping in his arms, and when he turned to wave goodbye, he saw Fleur walking out from the porch toward him.

  “Will you dream of me tonight?” She stood on her toes, reaching up to kiss him.

  “Absolutely. In great detail...”

  “Sounds interesting.” Her eyes flashed with mischief. “I’ll be dreaming of you too, so we’ll have to compare notes.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” He hugged her, feeling her body warm against his. Then Rick got into his car, watching as Fleur ran back to the house.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IF ANYONE HAD thought that a sense of personal peace might make Fleur relax a little too deeply into island life, they’d have been mistaken. She was splitting her time between the lighthouse and her parents’ house, and had renewed her efforts to find a job, scouring the trade papers and calling her contacts.

  She visited the clinic every day to exercise, and if that wasn’t enough she’d got herself involved with one of Alex’s fundraising schemes for the clinic. Or, rather, she’d got Alex involved with a scheme that was all her own. Alex had told her to go ahead with his blessing, and Fleur had taken that as an invitation to think big.

  “I’ve got a venue. It’s an old warehouse on the waterfront, due for demolition.” They were sitting together in the clinic’s restaurant, and Fleur was toying with a salad while he tucked into clam chowder.

  “Right.” Rick shot her a questioning frown. An old warehouse, due for demolition, didn’t exactly sound the right venue for a fundraiser designed to attract the Boston glitterati.

  “I reckoned that I couldn’t get a place smart enough to impress at such short notice. And anyway it would cut into our profits for the evening. So I’ve gone the other way. It’s going to be something like a street party, where the guests stop their limousines and join in.”

  “Okay.” Rick couldn’t quite see how that would work. But he had faith in Fleur.

  “The director of my old dance company got in touch. Some of the troupe’s in Boston already, and they were the ones who agreed to help. But he’s flying in a load more people, so it’s going to be really big. The admin team here at the clinic are getting in touch with people who’ve donated before, and they’re passing the word on.”

  “No invitations?” Rick wondered how anyone was going to know to turn up.

  “No, that’s the whole point. It’s a street party so it’s all done by word of mouth. You have to put the date aside, of course, as the people we want are likely to be busy otherwise. But they get directions on where to go via social networking.”

  “It’s...different.”

  “That’s the whole idea. These people spend their lives going to smart functions in expensive settings. If this fails, at least I’ll be able to say I tried something different.”

  “It won’t fail.” Rick took her hand. “It can’t fail, because it’s already succeeded. You’ve taken on a new role for yourself in planning all this out and organizing it. You’re making your future work for you, instead of thinking about the things you’ve lost.”

  She beamed at him. “Thank you, Rick. That’s a lovely thought.”

  He nodded. Lovely thoughts were one thing, but he still hoped that enough people turned up on the night to turn Fleur’s planning into hard cash.

  * * *

  Rick should be getting back to work now. His lunchtime was over, and Fleur had things she had to do without him.

  She was booked in for surgery this afternoon. The ganglion on the back of her wrist needed to be dealt with, and Cody would be carrying out the procedure. Since they’d been together, it had become a hard and fast rule that Rick was to have no part in any of her treatment anymore.

  But he’d made an excuse about patients not liking to see him too soon after lunch, and hung around for a second cup of coffee. Finally Fleur grasped the nettle.

  “It’s gone one o’clock, Rick. You really do need to get back to work.”

  “I’ve got a couple of hours off. I thought I might come along with you and keep you company.”

  Nothing would have made her happier. After all the surgeries she’d had, this one was trivial, but she still wanted him to be there with her. But Fleur unde
rstood why he’d initially said he couldn’t. He’d spent enough time at the hospital with Lara, and even if this was completely different, it seemed to awaken memories for him that he’d rather leave alone.

  “I’ll be perfectly all right by myself. I don’t want you there, getting in the way.”

  He folded his arms in a gesture that said very firmly he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve been thinking about this more and more. When I talked about Lara the other day in Jim’s office, I realized that I owe it to her to let go of the images I have of her in the hospital. The more I do, the more comfortable I feel about being here now for you.”

  Fleur reached across the table, taking his hand. “Rick, I’m glad you can remember her that way now. But... I think she might have preferred you to remember her that way with Ellie, not me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I told you that I made a promise to Lara before she died, that I’d make sure that Ellie knew all about her. But there was a second part to the promise, which I never kept. She made me promise to live well. I tried, but it was all about making Ellie happy, not me. Since I met you I’ve been learning how to be happy for myself.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Positive.”

  “Okay, then. No worrying, though. This is a minor procedure.”

  Rick nodded. “Yeah. Got it.”

  * * *

  He waited with Fleur, keeping an appropriate distance when Cody came down to the day surgery waiting room to greet her. As he watched, Rick saw another side of the man he knew to be an excellent surgeon but had thought was a little distant at times. He was quiet, reassuring and measured, but there was a warmth there too. Just the kind of person that Rick wanted as a surgeon for Fleur.

  Cody took his leave, a brief nod in Rick’s direction his only acknowledgement of his presence. Fleur walked over to him, taking his hand.

  “Cody says that if you want to, you can go to the lobby of the operating room and watch. As long as you don’t pass out or anything.” She gave him a mischievous look.