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A Rival to Steal Her Heart
by Annie Claydon
CHAPTER ONE
THE YOUNG MAN had a mop of red-brown hair, blue eyes and an easy, engaging smile. Anna Caulder thought she’d seen everything, but the tattoos on the backs of his hands plumbed the depths of bad taste.
‘This may hurt a little, Callum. Tell me if it gets too much, and we’ll stop.’
‘That’s all right, Miss Caulder.’ Callum gave her a cheery smile. Someone must have told him that, as a surgeon, Anna should be addressed as ‘Miss’ and he was clearly eager to please. ‘This place is pretty cool.’
Unfortunately that wasn’t going to make removing the tattoos any less painful. Anna’s expertise might, but only if Callum could be persuaded to stop looking around at the gleaming worktops and state-of-the-art medical equipment, and keep still.
‘I’m going to need you to take a couple of deep breaths, and relax, Callum.’
‘Okay. Are you going to do both hands?’
‘Just one will be enough for this session, Cal. You’ll need some time to heal afterwards,’ Dr Jamie Campbell-Clarke interrupted. He did that a lot.
‘Are you supposed to be here?’ By Anna’s calculations, today was a Monday, which was one of the three days a week that Jamie Campbell-Clarke spent working in the A&E department of a nearby hospital. Thursdays and Fridays were usually the days when she could expect to see him here, at the London Central Clinic, accompanying one of the teenagers he’d referred from the youth charity he ran in Hastings.
‘I’m only at the hospital for two days this week. So I thought I’d come along and watch you work.’ He sounded positively gleeful at the prospect.
‘And make sure I didn’t bottle out,’ Callum reminded him.
‘Yeah. There was that to it, as well.’
Jamie’s charity aimed to help teenagers like Callum overcome all kinds of disadvantages and make the most of their lives. He was fiercely protective of his young charges, and checked on everything. Which was fine, because he was an excellent doctor, but a trace of professional rivalry sometimes crept into his exchanges with Anna.
‘It would get it over with quicker. To do both hands.’ Callum’s face took on an imploring look.
‘Miss Caulder will do as much as she can...’ Anna turned and shot Jamie a glare and he fell silent, hopefully remembering that this was her consulting room and plastic surgery was her speciality.
‘I know you want to get rid of these tattoos, Callum...’ Anna glanced at the spidery words and the suggestive poses of the stick figures, and looked away quickly ‘...but it needs to be done properly, which is going to take a little more time than it did to get them.’
Callum nodded, staring at the backs of his hands. ‘Yeah, I know. Jamie explained it all... At least they’re black ink, so that’s easier to get rid of, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s right. But I’m sure that Dr Campbell-Clarke explained that new tattoos are a little more difficult, and I gather you’ve only had these for a few months—’
‘Twelve weeks,’ Jamie interjected, and Anna ignored him. Heaven forfend he allowed her to get away with anything as vague as a few months.
Callum gave her a sudden smile. ‘I understand. Thanks, Miss Caulder.’
He might not be thanking her at the end of the session, when his hand was hurting, but Callum didn’t make a sound as she carefully traced the outline of the tattoos on the back of his right hand with the laser. When she’d finished, he gave her another smile, which smacked a little of false bravado.
‘That’s going to give us the best results we can achieve for today.’ Anna decided that Callum needed a little reassurance that the short procedure was actually going to show some benefit. ‘I think when the inflammation goes down, you’ll see a big difference. Would you like the nurse to put a dressing on your other hand as well, just to cover the tattoos there?’
‘Yeah. Thanks. It beats having to keep wearing gloves.’
‘All right then. We’ll give you some replacement dressings and a leaflet on how to care for your hand. That’s really important, to avoid any infection.’
Callum nodded. ‘Thanks, Miss Caulder. Jamie’s already told me about that.’
‘I’m sure he has. I’ll leave it to him to check on your hand and re-dress it as necessary.’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jamie lay his hand on his chest, as if surprised that she’d finally found something that she could trust him to do.
Anna ignored the gesture. It was just a game that she and Dr Campbell-Clarke played. Each trying to outdo the other. Watching each other like hawks to make sure that the patients that he brought to her consulting room had the best possible treatment. It was harmless enough, and it took her mind off his eyes...
Moss green. On a woman, they’d be stunningly beautiful, and Jamie’s dark hair and the strong line of his jaw made them seem like dazzling jewels, surrounded by steel and muscle. Under the clear lights of the consulting room they seemed almost luminescent.
But she had a policy of not thinking about his eyes. They were enough to make any woman’s hand shake. Knowing that he was watching her every move and that he’d be quick to correct any mistakes gave her hand the professional, rock-steady quality that any surgeon needed.
He was wearing green today, a dark green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. That was his style when carrying out the business of his charity, casual clothes and first names. It was a little different from the Dr Campbell-Clarke persona that Anna saw when she visited the large, central London hospital where he worked three days a week, but he had the same self-assurance. The same way of daring anyone to question him, which was perhaps why Anna never hesitated to do just that.
The nurse had dressed Callum’s hands, and he was ready to stand now, a little shaky still from the procedure. Jamie ushered him outside, to where a neat-looking, middle-aged woman was sitting in the waiting room. Callum sat down beside her, and she gave him a brisk nod, but her hand moved to his back in a gesture of comfort.
‘Mary, this is Miss Caulder.’ Jamie introduced the two women quickly. ‘Callum did really well, and Miss Caulder’s very pleased with the results of the procedure.’
Anna could have said that herself. She resisted the urge to push him to one side, and smiled at the other woman. ‘I’ve just done the one hand, and I think that when the inflammation goes down you’ll see an appreciable difference. Callum asked us to dress his left hand as well, to cover it up.’
Mary nodded. ‘Thank you, Miss Caulder.’
‘I’ll see him again in six weeks. I’m hoping we won’t need too many sessions, and we
should be able to remove the tattoos completely.’
‘It’s very good of you.’ Mary frowned. ‘I’m sorry—’
Jamie cut her short. ‘It’s okay. What’s done is done and we look forward, eh, Callum?’
Callum nodded, his fingers moving to back of his right hand. Mary grabbed his hand, snatching it away before he could worry at the dressings.
‘Maybe you’d like to sit for a while before you go.’ The armchairs in the comfortable waiting room were laid out so that patients could sit in groups with their families, and Anna gestured towards the side table. ‘Help yourself to coffee or tea.’
‘Thank you. I think we’d like a drink before we get back on the train...’ Mary glanced at Callum and he nodded.
‘Great. Well I’ll see you in six weeks then, Callum.’ Anna smiled at him, and Mary nudged him.
‘Yes. Thanks, Miss Caulder.’
Jamie went to fetch Mary and Callum’s drinks, and Anna turned away, walking back to the consulting room. All the teenagers that Jamie brought here had some kind of story, and Jamie’s obvious concern for Callum showed that his probably wasn’t a good one.
She heard a knock on the open door and turned.
‘Nice job,’ Jamie said from the doorway.
‘Did you expect anything else?’
He shrugged and Anna took a gulp of air into her lungs. The to and fro between them didn’t seem to be working as well as it usually did. Maybe because of the green shirt, which made the colour of his eyes so much more prominent.
‘Ask. I know you want to.’
If he was going to add mind-reading to his talents, then Anna needed to establish a few more boundaries. But she was curious. She gestured towards the door, and Jamie walked into the room, closing it behind him.
‘All right then. Callum seems a nice lad, and Mary doesn’t look like the type to take any nonsense. What on earth is he doing with those tattoos?’
Jamie quirked his lips downwards. ‘He is a very nice lad. Mary’s his aunt, and she took him in two years ago. Before that, he was neglected and abused by his mother.’
‘Poor kid. So he’s acting up?’
‘Yeah. His older brother turned up three months ago, and Callum disappeared with him. Mary was frantic, and tried everything she could think of to find him, that’s how she made contact with us. He came back a week later, his brother had moved on and dumped him.’
‘And that’s where he got the tattoos?’
Jamie nodded. ‘Callum craves acceptance, and like a lot of kids with his kind of background he has a few issues with impulse control. He just wants to please, and he doesn’t think about the consequences. Our youth counsellor is working with him pretty intensively, and it’s pretty clear that we don’t know the full scope of what’s happened to him yet.’
‘You’re getting to the bottom of it, though.’
‘Yeah. We will. In the meantime, I just wanted to let you know that we’re doing all we can to make sure that he won’t be back with another set of tattoos that he regrets. And to...um...apologise. For any embarrassment.’
‘I’ve seen worse. I didn’t run out of the room screaming then either.’
‘No. Of course. But your non-judgemental approach is just the kind of thing that Callum needs.’
Was that a thank you? Anna decided not to push it and ask. ‘I’m just glad that they’re a single colour and relatively superficial, so they shouldn’t be too difficult to remove completely. Something like that won’t help Callum when it comes to getting a job or a place in college. Or a girlfriend...’
‘Yeah. He didn’t grasp the full implications of some of them. Mary asked me to explain it to him...’ His brow furrowed. Clearly he’d not found the conversation particularly easy.
‘Well... Good luck with him...’ The words slipped out before she’d had a chance to think. Jamie quirked his lips down.
‘We don’t leave things to luck.’
‘No, I know. Hard work, determination and expertise.’ Along with a lot of caring. Jamie’s charity had a policy of tough love, and it worked. ‘I’m actually not too proud to take a bit of luck when it comes my way.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks for what you did today. I’ll let you get on now.’ He turned suddenly, closing the door behind him as he left.
Anna flopped down into her chair. Maybe Jamie was right, and luck didn’t come into it. But there were some things that determination and hard work alone couldn’t put right.
Maybe it was those eyes that were making her think this way. They tempted her to revisit a past that was done with, and couldn’t be changed. If things had been different, then she might have allowed herself to get a little closer to Jamie. But they weren’t different, and he probably wasn’t interested in her anyway.
Think that. Keep thinking it.
She had no business lingering over Jamie Campbell-Clarke’s eyes, or his dedication, or the spark that fuelled their professional rivalry. Anna wasn’t in the market for a relationship with him, or anyone else.
She’d fallen into that trap once before. As soon as things had started to get serious with Daniel, she’d told him that she couldn’t have children, fully expecting him to leave. When he hadn’t, she’d thought she had found that special someone who could accept her as she was. But after a year of marriage he’d changed his mind and left. Once was more than enough when it came to having her heart broken.
Anna puffed out a breath. Jamie was right in one thing. She had patients waiting and she had to get on.
* * *
Jamie’s characteristically brusque two-line email had imparted the information that he’d visited Callum at home the previous evening, that he was in good spirits and that his Aunt Mary had reinforced the message that his gratitude for the help he was being given should take the form of not worrying at the dressings on his hand. He’d be back in six weeks and was looking forward to losing the unfortunate tattoos. Anna emailed a similarly brusque acknowledgement of the update, telling him to contact her if there was anything else she could do. She imagined there wouldn’t be.
And this morning there were new challenges, the first of which didn’t take a medical form. The private London Central Clinic was used to receiving patients whose fame required a degree of discretion and anonymity, but this patient had stretched policy almost to breaking point. She’d even caught her boss humming snatches of ‘Everywhere’.
And the singer responsible for that rock classic was here. Even Anna felt a small flutter over meeting the man who had reached a million hearts, including her own, with the song.
‘How’s he doing?’ She murmured the words to the ward receptionist, who leaned across her desk to whisper a reply.
‘Just great. A little taller than I thought he’d be.’
Right. That wasn’t the information Anna was after. ‘He’s settling in?’
‘Oh, yes. They took him a cup of green tea and a biscuit.’
Asking what kind of biscuit would only stoke the fires. ‘He has someone with him?’
‘No, he came on his own. Just a driver and he didn’t stay long. Parked on a meter, I expect.’
So fame didn’t always guarantee companionship. It seemed a shame, though. ‘Everywhere’ had been the song that had spoken to Anna when her life had hit a rough patch, and she imagined she wasn’t alone in that. It was all about hope, about kindling a flame in the darkness, to lead the way into the light.
‘Okay, I’ll go and see him now. Which room...?’
Jonny Campbell was sitting alone in his room. Dark glasses covered his eyes, and his head was nodding slightly to whatever was playing through his high-end headphones. His bag lay on the bed, unopened. One of the ward orderlies would unpack it for him if necessary, but Anna reckoned that Dr Lewis had told them to wait a short while, to see if he’d do it himself. Their patient was nominally here for
assessment of burn scars on his arm and the side of his face, but Jon’s listless indifference during his assessment interview had raised the possibility of mental health problems as well. Dr Lewis had taken overall charge of his case, and Anna had been told to start treating the burns, but to be aware that there may be other issues.
‘Hello. I’m Anna Caulder.’
Her words made him jump. Maybe his eyes had been closed under the glasses. Anna saw his hand shake as he removed his headphones.
‘Hi. Jon Campbell.’
‘I’m sorry if I startled you. You prefer Jon, or Jonny Campbell?’
His lips curved in a slow smile. ‘Jonny Campbell’s my professional name. Just Jon will do. You prefer Anna or Miss Caulder?’
‘Anna will do.’ He seemed so different from his stage persona. And yet somehow so familiar. Anna shook off the feeling. Her job was to find out what the real Jon Campbell needed, not the rock star Jonny Campbell.
‘I think Dr Lewis prefers Dr Lewis. Or maybe sir...’
Anna laughed. The dry humour that Jonny Campbell put to such good use on stage was there still.
‘Yes. I think he does. He’s a great doctor, though.’
‘I’ve no doubt of that. But he doesn’t have your beautiful blue eyes.’ Jon tilted his head towards her, and Anna blushed, fighting back the urge to tell him that she’d been to one of his concerts and loved his songs.
‘Well I’m here to take care of your burns.’ And to ignore compliments.
Jon flexed his arm. ‘Yeah, that would be great. I didn’t have much time to get them looked at when they happened, I was touring. I took a handful of painkillers and was back on stage the following evening. Being on stage in front of tens of thousands of people tends to make you forget about everything else.’
‘And you never had a doctor look at them?’
‘I was in hospital for a week in America. They said that my arm had become infected and gave me a course of antibiotics.’
‘You went to hospital for the burns? I didn’t see anything about that in your notes.’
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