The Woman He's Been Waiting For

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The Woman He's Been Waiting For Page 12

by Jennifer Taylor


  ‘I’ll make some coffee while you’re doing that,’ she offered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She went to stand up and groaned. ‘Oh, I am so stiff this morning.’

  ‘It’s the knock-on effect from that accident.’ He frowned when he saw her wince as she bent to pick up her robe. ‘You really aren’t in a fit state to go into work, Grace. Why don’t you stay here and rest? I can cover this morning’s appointments and do the home visits. With a bit of luck you might feel better by this evening.’

  ‘No, I can’t take time off. It isn’t fair to you or the patients.’ She slid her arms into the robe and belted it around her waist. ‘I’ll get the coffee started.’

  Harry knew it was pointless trying to persuade her. However, as he headed to the bathroom he decided that he would have a quiet word with Janet when he got into work and ask her to direct the bulk of the patients to him. That way Grace wouldn’t end up tiring herself out, although he would have felt happier if she’d stayed home and rested.

  He sighed because if it was up to him, he would make sure she permanently reduced her workload. It was about time someone looked after her and he would be more than happy to do it if she would let him. Taking care of Grace wouldn’t be a chore but a pleasure, and it was a strange thought for a man like him who had never wanted the responsibility of looking after someone else. However, it was different with Grace. Very different. Making sure she was safe and happy was more important than anything else.

  Grace phoned the local garage after Harry left and arranged for the breakdown truck to collect her car. She also arranged to hire another car while her own was being repaired and asked for it to be delivered to the surgery. Harry had offered to collect her on his way back so all she had to do was get herself ready.

  She took a hot shower, hoping the warm water would loosen up her aching muscles. She towelled herself dry then went into her bedroom, pausing in the doorway as she caught sight of the rumpled bed. All of a sudden the memory of what had happened the night before came rushing back and she shuddered as a wave of longing rushed through her once more.

  She’d known that Harry would be a skilled lover but it had been more than just technique that had made the experience so amazing. He had made love to her with real emotion and it was a shock to realise he was capable of that amount of feeling. It was an even bigger shock to remember how she had responded. Had it been the fact that she had needed comfort so desperately? Or had it been more than that? Was it possible that she was falling in love with him?

  Grace gasped. She had no idea where that thought had sprung from, but the sooner she put it out of her head the better. She hurriedly got dressed and was ready by the time Harry arrived ten minutes later. He got out of the car and came to help her, holding the door as she slid rather inelegantly into the passenger seat.

  ‘Still feeling stiff?’ he asked, bending to help her with the seat belt.

  ‘Just a little.’ She winced as she twisted round to slot the buckle into its holder. Every muscle seemed to be aching now so that even the slightest movement caused her a lot of pain. Her discomfort obviously showed because he frowned.

  ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this, I can manage for a couple of days without you—honestly, I can.’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine.’ She dredged up a smile. ‘I’ll work the kinks out better if I’m doing something.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  He closed the door then got into the driver’s seat. It was obvious he thought she was making a mistake, even though he didn’t say so. Grace was glad. She didn’t want to risk spoiling their new-found harmony by squabbling over something so trivial. Janet was walking up the drive when they arrived at the surgery and she stopped when she saw Harry helping her out of the car.

  ‘What on earth has happened? You look awful, Grace.’

  ‘I hit a patch of ice last night on my way back from visiting Miles and crashed into a wall,’ Grace explained, gritting her teeth as she straightened up.

  ‘But that’s terrible!’ Janet exclaimed. ‘Did you go back to the hospital and get yourself checked over?’

  ‘There was no need.’ Grace dredged up a smile. ‘Harry checked me over and he seemed to think I was all right.’

  ‘Oh, so you two were together when it happened?’ Janet said quickly.

  ‘Not exactly. Harry came along shortly after the accident had happened and drove me home.’

  She felt the colour rush to her cheeks and turned away. There was no way that she wanted Janet to know that Harry had spent the night with her. She didn’t regret it but neither did she want people speculating about what had gone on. Last night had been too precious, too special, to allow it to become a topic for idle gossip.

  Her heart ricocheted around her chest as once again she found herself wondering why it had meant so much. She’d needed comfort, Harry had supplied it, that should have been the end of the matter. But the harder she tried to convince herself it had been no more than that, the more difficult it was to believe it.

  The morning flew past. Harry barely had time to draw breath between patients. He’d had a word with Janet and she’d agreed to steer the bulk of the appointments in his direction. One patient rapidly succeeded another until it reached a point where he couldn’t remember most of the cases he’d dealt with. He looked up as his next patient arrived, wondering how many more people were waiting to be seen. At this rate it would be time for evening surgery before he reached the end of his morning list.

  ‘I’m Dr Shaw,’ he explained, as a young man came into the room. He waved him towards a chair. ‘It’s Alistair Blake, isn’t it?’ he asked, checking the patient’s details against the form Janet had prepared for him. Alistair Blake wasn’t registered with the practice so he’d had to fill in a temporary resident’s form before he could be seen.

  Harry checked that the information was correct then smiled at him.

  ‘What seems to be the problem?’

  ‘I don’t really know, Doc. I just know that I don’t feel right,’ the young man explained in a strong Australian accent.

  ‘How so?’ Harry prompted. ‘Do you feel sick or dizzy? Or do you have a temperature perhaps?’

  ‘I think I might have a temperature. I’ve definitely been feeling all hot and sweaty recently and it can’t be the weather.’ The young man cast a disparaging glance out of the window. Harry laughed.

  ‘It seems highly unlikely. So when did it all start?’

  ‘A couple of weeks ago, not long after I started work at the farm, in fact.’ Alistair sighed. ‘I haven’t said anything to the boss in case he lays me off. I’m travelling around Europe, you see, earning my keep by doing whatever jobs I can find. I’ve done farm work before so I thought I’d give it a go when I saw the ad in the local paper. There’s not much in the way of work round here at this time of the year and I was glad to get it. The trouble is I’ve felt real crook ever since I started there.’

  ‘I see. Have you noticed any other symptoms, apart from the fever?’ Harry asked, opening up a new patient’s file. Although Alistair wasn’t on their list, it was important to maintain a full history in case it was needed in the future.

  ‘I’ve had a headache on and off for a couple of days now,’ Alistair admitted. He frowned as he thought back over what had happened recently. ‘I’ve had a few other aches and pains, too, although it could be this cold weather that’s caused them, I guess.’

  ‘And that’s it? The more details you can give me, the easier it will be for me to find out what’s wrong with you.’

  ‘Yeah, I think so…Oh, yeah, I’ve felt a bit breathless at odd times. I almost forgot about that.’

  ‘Well, that sounds like enough to be going on with. I’d like to examine you so if you could strip off your sweater I’ll listen to your chest first.’

  Harry took his stethoscope off the desk and listened to the young man’s chest. There were definite wheezing sounds when Alistair breathed in and out. ‘Do you suffer from
asthma?’

  ‘Nah, fit as a flea I am. Never had a day’s sickness in my life.’

  Harry grinned. ‘It’s not often I hear a patient claiming they’re fit and healthy.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you do.’ Alistair grimaced. ‘I’m really lucky and I know it, too, but I’m not making this up, Doc. I really do feel crook.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ Harry agreed, coiling up the stethoscope. ‘Which is why I want to get to the bottom of this. What I’d like you to do for me now is a pulmonary function test. Your lungs sounded a bit crackly when I was listening to your chest so we’ll use a peak flow meter to assess the speed at which the air can flow out of your lungs.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’

  Harry fetched the meter and explained what he wanted the patient to do. ‘I want you to take a good deep breath then blow into this tube for as long and as hard as you can.’

  ‘A bit like the breathalyser the cops use,’ Alistair observed cheerfully. He took a deep breath, blew into the tube then handed it back to Harry. ‘That’s the best I can do, mate.’

  ‘Fine.’ Harry checked the reading. It was lower than he would have expected for someone of Alistair’s age and general level of fitness. He finished his examination but he couldn’t find anything wrong with the young man, apart from some minor breathing problems. He sat down again, determined to get to the root of the problem.

  ‘You said that your symptoms started when you went to work at the farm. Which farm is it, by the way?’

  ‘World’s End Farm. It’s a bloody good name for it, too. It feels as though you’ve reached the end of the world when you see the place.’

  ‘Oh, and why’s that?’ Harry asked curiously.

  ‘It’s just the way the place is run. Don’t get me wrong, Doc. Bill, the boss, is a good sort. And he loves those cows of his—knows them all by name, he does—but the place is the pits.’

  ‘I see. So what exactly is your job?’

  ‘I do whatever needs doing, basically. I start the day by mucking out the cowshed then I feed the animals and help with the milking.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s hard work but not exactly rocket science.’

  ‘Do you use any kind of chemicals?’ Harry asked, wondering if they could be the cause of the problem.

  ‘Nah. Bill doesn’t agree with using all that stuff. He’s into organic farming in a big way.’

  ‘Then we can rule out some sort of chemical reaction.’ Harry frowned. ‘What about the feed you give the animals?’

  ‘It’s mainly hay, with the addition of some grain.’

  ‘And is it in good condition?’ he said quickly, wondering if this might be the lead he was looking for. ‘It’s stored somewhere dry?

  ‘I wish.’ Alistair rolled his eyes. ‘It’s kept in one of the barns, although I don’t know why Bill bothers, really. Part of the roof has caved in and we’re always having to shift stuff around to keep it out of the rain. Only last week we had to throw out a heap of stuff because it had gone mouldy.’

  Harry nodded because it seemed he was on the right track after all. ‘I don’t suppose you wear a mask when you’re handling the feed, do you?’

  ‘Nah.’

  The young man looked so horrified that Harry laughed. ‘Well, I’m afraid you might have to wear one if you intend to carry on working there. It sounds to me as though you have farmer’s lung, which is an allergic reaction to the dust and spores that are found in mouldy hay and some types of grain.’

  ‘You mean that I’ve made myself ill by breathing in all that muck?’

  ‘I think it’s highly likely, given everything you’ve told me.’

  ‘So what happens now? I mean, can you cure me?’

  ‘Yes, and the treatment is very simple, too.’ Harry smiled at him. ‘You’ll either have to wear a mask or stop handling mouldy feed. Maybe you can persuade your boss to repair the barn.’

  ‘I’ll give it a go, although I’m not holding out too much hope. It might be easier to find another job.’

  ‘Well, good luck, whatever you decide to do.’

  Harry saw him out, making a note to check with Janet if there was anything he needed to do to reclaim the cost of Alistair’s appointment. As a non-UK resident, Alistair had to pay for any health care he received. He sighed as he buzzed in his next patient because he could have done without the extra paperwork today of all days. Still, it was worth it if it took the pressure off Grace. She needed someone to watch out for her, someone she could turn to in a time of crisis, and he could do both of those things and more. Putting Grace at the very heart of his life would be the most satisfying thing he had ever done.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  GRACE was relieved that her morning list was so light. Despite her insistence to Harry that she was capable of working, it was a real effort to keep going. By the time her last patient left she was more than ready for a break.

  She made her way to the office and handed Janet the files she’d used. ‘Good job it wasn’t too busy this morning. I don’t know how I’d have coped if I’d had to deal with the usual mad rush.’

  ‘That’s what Harry thought,’ Janet replied, popping the files into the tray. ‘He’s so considerate, isn’t he?’

  Grace frowned. ‘Sorry, I’m not with you.’

  ‘Harry asked me to send as many people as possible in to see him this morning. He was worried about you doing too much after your accident and I think it was really lovely of him, too. It just shows how much he cares about you. Maybe you two should think about getting back together.’

  ‘Back together,’ Grace repeated, still reeling from the shock of learning that Harry had been issuing instructions to her staff.

  ‘Mmm. He told me that you two had had a bit of a fling. I thought then that he was hoping you would get back together, and this just proves it.’ Janet gave her a mistyeyed smile. ‘He must think an awful lot of you, Grace, if he’s prepared to give up his time to work here.’

  ‘But he’s doing it for Miles,’ she protested. She felt a rush of heat invade her and hurried on, needing to convince Janet that she had misunderstood. ‘Harry’s decision to work here has absolutely nothing to do with me, I assure you.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  Janet treated her to another of those knowing smiles, making it clear that she didn’t believe her. Grace went back to her room, wondering what she should do. It was difficult to claim the moral high ground and assert that nothing was going on between her and Harry after last night.

  She groaned as she realised how complicated the situation had become. It might be easier to let Janet think what she liked rather than cause a fuss. However, one issue which did need clearing up was the way Harry had assumed control. She might have slept with him but she didn’t intend to let him use that as a means to usurp her authority.

  Grace crossed the corridor. Harry’s door was open and he looked up as she went in. She felt a frisson run through her when he smiled at her.

  ‘Hi, how are you feeling? Still a bit stiff and aching?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said shortly, although it was hard to hold onto her anger when he looked at her that way. She cleared her throat, refusing to get sidetracked before she’d even started. ‘Janet just told me what you did…’

  ‘I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, Grace, but I was worried about you.’ His blue eyes filled with warmth. ‘I know what you’re like. Once you get an idea into your head, it’s impossible to shift it, but you really and truly aren’t up to doing too much today.’

  ‘I’ll admit that I found it hard going this morning,’ she said stiffly. ‘But that still doesn’t excuse what you did. How would you like it if I started issuing instructions to your staff?’

  ‘I’d hate it because, like you, I’m a control freak.’ He got up and came around the desk. ‘We have a lot in common, don’t we? We’re both stubborn and pig-headed. And we both think we know better than everyone else does.’ He brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek and his eyes wer
e tender. ‘I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark this morning but I couldn’t bear to watch you making yourself ill. Will you forgive me?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said quickly, because she didn’t want him to know how much his words had touched her. Was that all it had needed? she wondered in amazement. A simple apology and everything had been sorted out. If they had tried this approach years ago, they would never have wasted so much time arguing. But, there again, she hadn’t wanted them to stop fighting, hadn’t wanted to run the risk of growing to like him. She’d wanted to keep Harry at a distance, but it was different now. Now she wanted him as close as possible, wanted him with her every day and every night. In fact, she couldn’t imagine what her life was going to be like when he went back to London.

  The thought was too difficult to deal with right then. It was a relief when Janet tapped on the door to tell them she was going for her lunch. Grace sighed when she saw the coy look the receptionist gave them before she left.

  ‘Janet seems to have got it into her head that we were an item at some point.’

  Harry groaned. ‘It was just a silly misunderstanding. I made a comment the other day about us having a bit of a history. I meant all the arguing we’ve done, but Janet took it the wrong way and thought I meant we’d been romantically involved.’

  ‘She does tend to jump to conclusions,’ Grace agreed, then frowned when he laughed. ‘What’s so funny about that?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s just that if you’d found out about it a couple of days ago you would have had my guts for garters.’

  ‘I wasn’t that unreasonable.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you were. You never gave me an inch, Grace. You were on my case from the first moment we met.’

  ‘It wasn’t all one-sided. You gave as good as you got.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ He sat down on the edge of the desk and looked at her. ‘But it was mainly because I refused to let you win. I never really understood why we found it so hard to get along until you told me that I reminded you of your father.’

 

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