Dangerous Love

by Ashby, Teresa

  It wasn’t right that an old person should have to live like that, Regan thought, but she had no idea why he lived the life he did. Perhaps it was through choice. It seemed sad that at his age there was no one to take proper care of him, no warm-hearted daughter to take him shopping, no strapping grandson to do a bit of decorating for him.

  She held his arm as they walked through. He was amazingly thin beneath the layers of wet clothing. They’d offered to try and get him “in” somewhere, but he wasn’t having any of that. He’d rather end his days on the ground under a flattened cardboard box than imprisoned in a home. That’s how he saw it. Prison.

  The doors opened and the paramedics came in with the cliff fall casualty. Funny, but the figure on the bed didn’t look much like a teenager. In fact she looked rather small. Not that Regan could see much. The paramedics were rapping out what had happened as they sped towards Resus with Josie and the duty doctor, Karen, running alongside.

  Regan’s eyes strayed to the doors, waiting for them to open, for an anxious parent or two to come through. No one came. And now the phone was ringing and everyone else was busy.

  “Excuse me,” Regan said, sitting Stanley on a chair inside an empty cubicle. “I’ll just get that. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time, dear,” Stanley smiled. “I’m in no hurry. In fact my heart feels a lot better since I got here.”

  The call was brief. Regan hung up and hurried over to Resus. The door opened and Josie came out, her face as white as a sheet.

  “There’s another ambulance on the way,” Regan said, watching Josie carefully. “Apparently the lifeboat guy who retrieved the casualty then went over the cliff himself. Suspected spinal injuries. Would… What’s the matter, Josie? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. You haven’t lost her?”

  “Sorry, there’s no easy way to say this. It’s Georgie,” Josie said, reaching out and touching Regan’s arm.

  Regan blinked, confused. What did she mean? Georgie was at home in bed.

  “Georgie was the child that went over the cliff,” Josie went on, her voice leaden because she knew the impact the news would have on Regan. “She’s okay, she’s not badly hurt, but…”

  “Georgie?” Josie whispered. Her heart felt as if it had dropped like a stone right down through her chest into the pit of her stomach. She felt her insides tighten, her heart freeze with fear. “My Georgie? No way, you must be mistaken, Josie.”

  “No mistake I’m afraid, Regan. Go in with her,” Josie said, smiling but looking as if she might be about to burst into tears herself. “But be prepared. She’s got a scalp injury so there’s quite a lot of blood. I know you’re used to it, but when it’s your own…”

  The lead in Regan’s feet turned to air and she flew through the door and into Resus where she saw her own little girl on the bed, her head immobilised in a brace while Karen gently checked out her arm.

  “Mummy!” Georgie wailed.

  “Oh, sweetheart, what have you done?” Regan said, rushing to her daughter’s side and taking her uninjured hand in hers. Her eyes looked very bright against the mask of red covering her face. Even her little hands were scarlet with blood.

  “I fell off the cliff, Mummy,” Georgie said and at that point it all became too much for her and she burst into tears, relief at seeing her mother tipping her off the fine brave line she’d been treading.

  This was not the time to ask why she was on the cliff. That could wait. Right now Regan needed to know the extent of her injuries. She looked at Karen.

  “She’s going to be okay, Regan,” Karen said. “Has she any allergies we should know about? Regan?”

  “Yes? Er, no,” Regan said, pulling herself together. “She’s fine with anything.”

  She squeezed Georgie's hand and felt another hand squeeze round her heart. She’d always been good at what ifs, too good, and now the what ifs were coming thick and fast. What if no one had seen her go over the side? What if she’d missed that ledge?

  She felt as if she was a still picture in one of those films where everyone else moves at super speed. Everything happened so fast around them, yet in the middle of it all, Regan stood beside the bed holding Georgie’s hand, her mind crowded with thoughts. She left briefly to call Lally and let her know, but it sounded as if Lally had just found an empty bed anyway and was already upset and sobbing.

  When she got back, Mike Anson, their department head had arrived.

  “What are you doing here, Mike?” Regan asked, instantly worried. Why had Karen called in reinforcements?

  “I’ve been visiting my father,” Mike explained. “He’s in Baker Ward. I heard about the incident on the cliffs and that there’s the possibility of more casualties, so I thought I’d swing by and see if I could help.”

  He reached out and squeezed Regan’s shoulder.

  Regan thought briefly of Stanley waiting in the cubicle. If Mike knew he was here cluttering up his department – even if it was empty – he’d do his nut! Then she thought of Georgie, the focus of all this attention – she could have been killed this evening. Mike could have been down here comforting her for completely different reasons.

  She blamed Bram for this. Bram and his reckless genes. Only a child of his would venture too close to the edge of a cliff when she shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Not content with inheriting his vivid blue eyes and the dark lashes that went with them, she’d taken on his outgoing personality. Regan couldn’t look at her daughter without being reminded of Bram and she’d learned to live with that, but how was she going to live with another daredevil?

  “Don’t cry, Mummy,” Georgie said.

  “I’m not crying,” Regan forced a laugh and rubbed at her eyes. “Silly old thing! I’m just tired.”

  Golden rule for parents with kids in hospital – you do not cry in front of them and make them even more frightened than they already are. You smile, you don’t look worried and you speak with utter conviction that everything is going to be all right. Which it is!

  “I’m going to take Georgie into theatre now, Regan,” Mike told her. “I’ll get that arm sorted out, make her comfortable and she should be able to come home in a day or two. Did you want to be with her while we put her under?”

  “Stay with me, Mummy,” Georgie pleaded, her voice so small and helpless it nearly tore Regan’s heart out. “Don’t go. Stay.”

  “Of course I’ll stay with you, darling,” Regan said. It would be just until she was put under, then Regan would slip away, ready to return when Georgie was in recovery so she’d be there beside her when she woke up.

  And it was only after Georgie’s eyes had closed and Regan was no longer needed that she allowed the tears to come.

  “She’ll be all right, Regan,” Mike said, his eyes serious over the top of his mask. “She’s safe in my hands.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But she’s my little girl.”

  As she hurried back to A&E, she wondered what on earth Georgie thought she was doing tonight. And she had to try to figure out some way of curbing her daughter’s wild streak.

  “I tell you I’m fine!” The voice stopped Regan dead in her tracks. That voice! No mistaking it. She shook her head and carried on. Tiredness and worry was making her delusional. She’d been thinking rather too much about Bram tonight, that was all. There was no way he was here in her hospital, no way on earth. When she’d sent him away, he’d gone for good and he’d been most adamant he wouldn’t be coming back.

  Way back then he’d looked up at her from his wheelchair, his bruised, battered and stitched face changed almost beyond recognition. He’d looked far from beautiful, but it wasn’t his beauty she’d fallen in love with. If he’d had a face like the back of a bus she would still have been in love with him and the scars and bruises made no difference to how she felt about him. If anything they made her love him more which made it hurt even more and it was a pain she just couldn’t bear.

  They were just back from their friend Tom’s
funeral, still in their black clothing. Regan had brought Bram back to the hospital to continue his treatment and the funeral had exhausted him. Regan could not get the image of Tom’s widow at the graveside out of her mind. She stood erect and pale, flanked by her two white-faced weeping children as they watched their hero being lowered into the ground. Their dead hero. Regan didn’t want a dead hero – she wanted a living, breathing man in her life. Bram had almost died and as well as his physical injuries from the sea rescue that had gone so dreadfully wrong, he had psychological scars that would never heal.

  He’d kept Tom afloat, struggled to keep him above water, but Tom had already been dead and Bram almost lost his own life hanging on to a corpse.

  “If I walk out that door, Regan, it’s the last you’ll see of me, I promise you that.”

  “Fine,” she’d said hotly. “Then hurry up and go. I can’t wait.”

  He hadn’t walked and he wasn’t going anywhere but back to the ward. What he had actually done was to spin his wheelchair around and wheel himself towards the door, battering at the sensor switch until it opened, then it had shut softly behind him and the steady squeak of his wheels had been silenced.

  She’d wanted to run after him, grab the handles of the chair and turn it round, but what would be the point? He’d said as soon as he was recovered he’d be back on duty on the lifeboats and she’d told him to choose. She’d given him her ultimatum, fired up by grief and fear. Just be a vet, she’d said, be content to save the lives of dogs and cats – give up the RNLI, the rescues, the danger. Give it up or go.

  “If you knew anything about me, Regan,” he’d said. “You’d never demand I make a choice like that.”

  “And if you really loved me there would be no choice to make.”

  “I could say the same thing,” he’d said sadly.

  And he had made his choice. When she swallowed her pride and went to see him at the hospital a few days later, he’d gone and no one seemed to know where. But he was wrong about her not seeing him again. She saw him every day in the face of their little girl.

  The voice crashed into her thoughts again.

  “This is just a waste of time – it’s just a bit of bruising! I’ve had a bruised spine and believe me, this is not it! This is minor. Just let me go home, love, eh?”

  Regan turned round and took a step towards Resus where Josie was standing at the open door looking out at her, her face a mask of anguish as if she couldn’t stand any more shocks.

  It couldn’t be, Regan thought even though her ears and Josie’s expression was telling her otherwise. No way. He’d gone. He’d promised not to come back.

  “First of all, I’m the doctor here and I will decide whether or not your injuries are minor,” Karen said patiently. “And I am not your love!”

  Regan would have laughed if the patient had been anyone else being put in his place. But Bram! Here? Impossible!

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Hey, how’s Georgie?” Josie said, trying to head her off. Josie would remember Bram of course, remember that once upon a time he and Regan had actually meant something to each other.

  Regan took another step towards Resus.

  “Regan, don’t go in there…”

  “Look, I’ll leave you to yourself for a minute,” Karen said, exasperation making her voice tight. “Just think about being cooperative and making things easier for everyone concerned. I’ll be back.”

  “When you do, bring those discharge papers for me to sign – I don’t intend to spend the rest of the night here.”

  Karen emerged from Resus, cheeks bright pink.

  “Would you believe that guy?” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Talk about stubborn!”

  “But very good looking,” Josie grinned and Regan shot her a warning look. Karen was a relative newcomer as were most of the Accident and Emergency staff at the new hospital. Regan’s former relationship with Bram wasn’t exactly common knowledge and she wanted it to stay that way.

  Bram’s time in Walsea had been almost as brief as their relationship. He’d come to the town a newly qualified young vet on a year’s contract to work with Dennis who owned the only veterinary practice in town. He’d left three months before the end of his contract taking Regan’s heart with him. He had no roots here, no reason to come back – so what the hell was he doing back?

  “That too,” Karen admitted and Regan realised the flush in her cheeks had nothing to do with her being cross, but everything to do with her being attracted. Well nothing had changed in that department then. Bram was still attracting women like wasps round a jam pot. He made a big impact on the town last time he was here and there was no reason to suppose this time would be any different.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Regan said, setting her shoulders straight and taking in a deep breath.

  “You will?” Karen said, surprised. “What about Georgie?”

  “Mike’s operating,” Regan explained. “I won’t be needed for a while.”

  “Well good luck,” Karen said. “Let me know when you’ve tamed him.”

  Tamed him? Oh, no one would ever do that. Regan walked in and let the door close behind her. She looked around. The boards on the wall were smothered in notices and memos, the desk was the same. It was never like that on television. Things were always so much neater and more orderly on television, at least where paperwork was concerned.

  There were two beds with curtains between them. Bram was in the one at the far end. Regan’s heart gave a thud and she almost gasped. All she could see of him around the half pulled curtain was a pair of tanned, muscular shins and two large feet.

  She took another step closer, and another. More of him came into view, but he was half covered with a sheet, lying flat on his back, arms at his sides… she edged closer… his face was turned away from her staring at a raft of equipment to his side. The sight of that fair tousled hair on the pillow made her knees buckle. She must have made some sound because he turned his head slowly and his eyes widened in surprise.

  He sat up. “Regan… Regan? Is that you? My God, it is you!”

  And his face broke into the most wondrous smile of recognition as if he were really, truly pleased to see her. His eyes had practically ignited and his smile didn’t waver. Had whatever happened to him out there on the cliff wiped out his memory? Taken him back to a time when they were happy together?

  “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Is it?” she asked coolly.

  She picked up her pace and hurried to his bedside, picking up his notes simply to give herself something to do, not looking at him. Oh God, no, she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let herself fall into those summer ocean blue eyes and let herself drown all over again. It had hurt too much last time. Still did.

  “You rescued the little girl?” she said as everything suddenly fell into place and she realised why he was here. “It was you that saved Georgie. You’re back with the RNLI?”

  She looked at him, then looked away again. It was Bram who rescued Georgie. She could scarcely breathe and for one awful dizzying moment, Regan thought that she was going to faint.

  “I’ve always been a volunteer, Regan,” he said and she knew he was staring at her, could feel his eyes burning into her. “I was before I met you and I’ve never stopped. You know that. Nothing’s changed.”

  “I should th… thank you for what you did,” she said, still staring at the notes, her heart pumping like a piston engine. Thank him yes, but for God’s sake don’t tell him why! Tread carefully here, Regan, don’t let what’s happened make you blurt something out you will later regret.

  “Maybe her mother should be doing that,” he said, anger giving his voice a raw edge. “Poor little scrap, left to wander the cliffs on her own. Don’t these people realise kids are a gift to be treasured?”

  Oh, get him started on kids! It was his pet subject. Children and animals, helpless and vulnerable and unable a lot of the time to take care of themselves. If he hadn’t bee
n a vet, he’d have been a paediatrician and a damn good one too.

  “Hey, Regan,” he called softly and she was reminded of just how persuasive he could be. “You can swing it for me to go home, can’t you? You know how I hate hospitals and there’s no one at home with the dogs and I’ve got surgery starting at eight tomorrow.”

  “Surgery?” her eyes snapped up, met his head on and crashed spectacularly. Still so blue, still so beautiful. “You mean you’re in practice round here again?”

  She hoped he’d say he was just doing locum work for Dennis, just here for a couple of weeks. He stared at her for a moment, a faint flush rising in his cheeks.

  He’d changed – and it wasn’t just the faint scar running down the side of his face, so dangerously close to his eye. Considering the mess he’d been in last time she saw him, he looked pretty good now. Better than good.

  “I bought Dennis out when he retired,” he said, having the grace to look at least a little uncomfortable that he’d made such a big move without informing her. “I know I’m the last person you want in town, Regan, but it’s a big enough place and there’s no reason our paths should ever cross. I liked my time here and I’ve always kept in touch with Dennis, so when he told me he was retiring, well I jumped at the chance to come back to be honest.”

  She had no idea Dennis had retired or that his practice was in new hands. She didn’t even know he’d kept in touch with Bram, presumably at Bram’s request. Her face burned. How many times had she been to the surgery with Bonnie her dog and taken Georgie along? How many times must Dennis have looked at the child and seen Bram? Had he said anything?

  “Hell, Regan,” Bram’s voice cracked. “It’s not so terrible me being back here is it? You don’t still hate me that much do you?”

  “Hate you? I never… How long have you been back?”

  “A month,” he muttered, then he lifted one side of his mouth in a crooked grin. “You really don’t hate me?”