For the moment at least.
‘Have you eaten?’
Tess shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry for once in my life. Maybe I should get summonsed more often.’ Her feeble joke went without comment, and she only finally looked around when she heard Max slamming cupboard doors. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I brought breakfast.’ He held up a greasy paper bag. ‘Chocolate croissants. If you bung them in the microwave for thirty seconds all the chocolate melts—bliss.’
‘You have them,’ Tessa offered, taking the bag and assembling the pastries on a plate, grateful for the diversion as he fiddled with the timer. ‘I honestly couldn’t eat a thing.’
Even thirty seconds seemed to go on for ever. Watching the pastries revolve aimlessly, Tessa could feel Max’s eyes on her, smell his aftershave, and, though it was agony, she couldn’t let the moment go without just the tiniest fantasy. The tiniest glimpse of a distant dream where breakfast with Max was a daily occurrence. And if she was dreaming, why not go the whole hog? Why not imagine that her gorgeous black suit was a daily event as well, that she was a nurse lecturer perhaps, a drug rep even? Glimpsing over to her breakfast bar where Max sat flicking through the newspaper, her fantasy took on dangerous proportions... High chairs with happy babies didn’t go with corporate suits and, perhaps more to the point, fantasies involving engaged men didn’t go very well with Tessa’s morals.
The pastries only got a twenty-second spin.
Pinging open the door, Tessa handed the plate to Max then brought over the coffees and perched anxiously on the barstool, her teeth nibbling the skin around her thumbnail as she anxiously watched the clock.
‘Tessa?’
He watched her jerk her head towards him, saw the strain in her eyes, her attempt to force a smile, and his fingers tightened hard around his coffee-cup such was the urge to go over to her to wrap his arms around her and kiss away her fears. To tell her with his touch the pride he had in her, the faith she should have in herself. And as nonchalant as Max might have looked, sitting there with the paper, he had never felt more awkward in his life. His new suit felt strange, sitting here with Tessa felt strange, hell, all he wanted to do was unburden the load from his shoulders, to tell how he was feeling. And though he’d worked his way up to this moment, though his every waking moment had been focussed on this very scenario, with no pagers, no buzzers, no patients to distract them, just him and Tessa finally alone, to see her sitting there, her face taut with anxiety, her shoulders tensed in anticipation, Max knew that the time wasn’t right, that the only issue on Tessa’s mind today was the court case.
‘You did nothing wrong.’ Max’s words answered her unspoken fears and she rested her hand back down in her lap and met his confident gaze head on, wishing for all the world that she could match it. ‘And today isn’t about apportioning blame. The bypass issue mightn’t even come into it.’
‘So why are they calling me, then?’
Max gave a brief shrug. ‘He was eighteen years old, Tessa. The police were involved.’
‘I know all that,’ Tessa responded, pushing the pastry away with a grimace. ‘But this is the first time I’ve been called to court, and I’m sure it’s not to congratulate me on my resuscitation technique. There must be a reason they want me there, and I’m sure it isn’t going to be good.’
‘Lets find out, shall we?’ Max said, pushing his own plate away untouched, realising small talk wasn’t what Tessa needed right now. ‘Have you got a change of clothes?’
‘Why?’ Tessa asked, startled, pulling her very new and way too expensive handbag over her shoulder.
‘This could very well go on until tomorrow, and unless you fancy another four-hour round trip, it might be easier to bag a room.’
‘In a hotel?’
Max grinned. ‘Well, I’m a bit past youth hostels. Look, I’m just thinking ahead. More than likely we’ll be back here by five o’clock. I just want you to be prepared.’
Oh, Tessa was prepared all right. Prepared for the court case, prepared for two hours cooped up in a car feigning nonchalance. In fact, she was almost mentally prepared for Max’s leaving party. But drinks and dinner and, heaven forbid, twin beds in some luxury hotel certainly weren’t on her agenda. ‘I’d rather come back here. Anyway, you really can’t take two days off for me in your last week.’
‘But I will.’
‘I know,’ Tessa answered too quickly, confused by the potential change to her plans and desperate to regain control. ‘But there’s really no need, no need at all. If the court case does end up going on till tomorrow, I’ll at least know the ropes a bit and I’ll be just fine by myself.’
‘And there’s always Fred to hold your hand.’
Where had that come from? That jealous tinge to his voice she had heard in the canteen was back, and this time Tessa knew she definitely wasn’t hearing things. Why was he doing this? He had everything he wanted. Couldn’t he just leave her heart alone?
‘Yes, there’s Fred,’ Tessa said through slightly gritted teeth. ‘But there’s also a perfectly good car in my own garage. I might be blowing my own trumpet a bit here but, believe it or not, I did pass my driving test a few years back. This little lady can get to the city without a male escort. I’m not a complete hick!’
‘Sorry,’ Max was grinning at her outburst. ‘Look, you’re nervous—’
‘Don’t patronise me, Max.’ They were standing in her hallway now, the front door wide open, and turning she saw his slightly startled expression at the testiness in her voice.
‘I wasn’t. Hey, Tess.’ His hand catching her sleeve as she made to go was almost more contact than Tessa could bear, and biting back the sharp sting of tears she turned to face him. ‘Where did this row blow in from? I just want to be here for you, I don’t want you doing this alone.’
She loved him, yes. But never, not once in their five years of friendship, had she let her façade slip for even a second. Never had she given him even a glimmer of her true feelings. As far as Max was concerned, they were friends and nothing else.
Nothing else.
But suddenly Max was breaking all the rules. That fine line drawn in the sand, the line that had kept her feelings safe, kept her emotions firmly in check, was being slowly eroded. No waves gushing in, just the gentle laps of suggestion. The small proprietarial touches, the almost jealous remarks. And if all Tessa had was her dignity, she damn well wasn’t going to lose it now. In five days Max Slater would be out of her life, in five days’ time she wouldn’t have to pretend any more. It was time to set the boundaries, make things blatantly clear, before they did something they could only both regret.
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ Taking a deep breath, Tessa managed to look into his eyes. ‘Glad that the consultant of the department is here today to back me up and guide me through.’
‘I’m not here just because I’m a consultant, Tess.’
‘Tessa,’ she snapped. ‘My name is Tessa, and if the case does drag on, I’ll come with Fred, or by myself, but either way I’ll be just fine.’
‘Fine,’ she repeated again, reclaiming her arm and deliberately ignoring the confusion in Max’s eyes at her outburst.
* * *
The sun was only just coming up as they stepped out onto the street. The city was at least a two-hour drive away and factoring peak hour traffic and the need for a last-minute coffee and pep talk Max had left plenty of time to get there. The last thing Tessa needed now was the anxiety of arriving late.
‘Look at that.’ As she waited for him to unlock the car their haste was put on hold as they surveyed the stunning view. The jagged golden cliffs, painted a vivid burn orange by the emerging sun, the shimmering ocean sparkling so brightly Max screwed up his eyes and shielded them with the palm of his hand. ‘I’ll miss all this. I doubt there’s too many views like this in London.’
Tessa managed a wry grin, her anger of only moments before receding at the rate of knots as she drank in the eternally soothing v
iew. ‘Oh, I’m sure you might find a couple of things to admire there. It’s London, for heaven’s sake!’
‘And this time next week I’ll be there.’
‘Freezing to death, probably,’ Tessa muttered, pulling impatiently on the locked car door.
Maybe it was for the best, Tessa mused as the car ate up the miles. There were definite undercurrents. Oh, she didn’t for a second believe that he loved her, but maybe, despite her best efforts, the attraction she felt was starting to show, however subliminally. And maybe Max wasn’t quite the hero she’d believed. Perhaps his morals didn’t quite stand up to the test of time and the emotion of leaving.
He was male after all.
* * *
Tessa pretty much knew what to expect when she got to court, and not just from Max. Endless colleagues had gone over their own experiences, offered her their unlimited support, but the woodwork that adorned the room had, in Tessa’s mind, been grander, more ornate perhaps, certainly not the modern cherry-wood that greeted them, and the pale carpets and modern furnishings were a revelation in themselves. Still, the absence of robes or wigs and the contemporary surroundings did nothing to detract from the reverence of the occasion, and the hushed tones that swept the rapidly filling room were pretty much in keeping with Tessa’s image.
But all the preparation, all the forewarnings didn’t prepare Tessa for the stab of pain she felt when she saw Matthew’s parents, sitting in the front row, holding each other’s hands, the lines on their faces new, the etchings of grief so clearly visible they looked as if they had been painted on, wearing the stiff upper lip of bereaved parents that belied the pained torturous nights, the horror of living in a world that carried on without their baby.
But today the world did pause for a moment, here in the surroundings of the court the last hours of Matthew Benton’s life were examined gently yet astutely by the coroner. The packed room listened intently to the endless reports, the reams of witnesses and officers’ findings, and Tessa listened intently, breathing an audible sigh of relief along with Max and the rest of the court when Matthew’s blood and drug screen readings were relayed. Documented proof that for once the fatal combination of teenage egos and alcohol hadn’t played a part in this accident.
Small comfort, Tessa thought, looking over at Matthew’s parents, watching Mr Benton’s grip tighten on his wife’s hand, a small proud smile flickering on his lips. But, Tessa mused as she watched the struggling couple, when you’ve lost a son, you’ll take any comfort on offer.
Stepping outside at lunchtime, Tessa took a deep cleansing breath. It was like coming out of a bizarre movie or a play, she thought, blinking at the bright midday sun, and so hard to fathom that the people bustling past on the street were untouched by the events unfolding in the courtroom behind her.
‘Where do you want to go for lunch?’ Max’s voice broke into her thoughts and Tessa turned her troubled face to him.
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Come on, Tess, you haven’t eaten anything all day.’
‘I’m going to be called soon, Max. I’m so nervous that I honestly think I’ll throw up if I eat. Sorry,’ Tessa added. ‘That wasn’t very ladylike.’
‘I’m shocked,’ Max feigned a stunned expression, then smiled. ‘You need a break, Tessa. There’s a nice little bistro over the street, I’ve booked us a table.’
‘You’ve already booked?’ The doubts that had plagued Tessa earlier that morning seemed to be rapidly returning for an encore. ‘Well, you shouldn’t have,’ Tessa responded hotly. ‘Anyway, I need to disappear for an hour.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t say. I really need to get as far away from this courtroom as possible and not think about it for a while. Look, I’ll meet you back here in half an hour.’
‘You know I’ll only follow you,’ Max insisted, deliberately ignoring her angry tones. ‘Come on, tell me, where are you going?’
Tessa shuffled on the spot, her feet in agony in her shoes. ‘Use your imagination.’
He stared at her, bemused.
‘Who’s the only one in the department who ever thinks to set up a collection when’s someone’s leaving? Who’s the mug who spends her lunch-break trying to work out how to make fifty dollars look like a hundred?’
Max laughed. ‘Did you only manage to collect fifty dollars for me?’
‘On the contrary, for once people were only too happy to chip in.’
‘Probably glad to see the back of me.’
‘Something like that.’
It was so much easier to joke.
‘So what are you going to get me?’ Max asked with a cheeky wink. ‘Have you been picking up the hints I’ve been dropping?’
‘You’ve been dropping hints?’ Tessa looked up, alarmed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t be counting on me getting them. I’m useless at reading between the lines.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Max murmured, then smiled again. ‘I haven’t been dropping hints. The truth is, I haven’t even thought about a leaving present, but now that you mention it... Come on, Tess, you know I hate surprises.’
‘Well, I was going to get you a fountain pen, a nice pen with your name engraved on it.’
‘I’d only lose it,’ he pointed out.
‘You’d better not, Max.’ Fishing the envelope out of her bag, she showed it to him, watching his eyes widen as he read the figure Tessa had faithfully written on the front. ‘You’re going to get a pen set. Ballpoint, fountain and, if there’s enough money left after that, we might even throw in a pencil.’
‘Those ones that snap the lead if you push too hard.’
‘The very same.’ Tessa smiled. ‘You can choose, but tell anyone and I’ll kill you.’
They wandered off to Myers department store, the scent of the perfumery knocking them sideways as they entered the store.
‘Ooh, look.’ Tessa picked up a massive bottle and breathed in deeply, accepting the assistant’s offer of a sprayed card, which she put in her bag. ‘Remind me to get another one on my way out.’
‘Why?’ Max asked, following behind. ‘What do you want with two pieces of cardboard?’
‘One to make my bag smell nice, one for my jumper drawer. Simple.’
‘Women.’ Max shrugged.
Tessa had naı¨vely thought you walked in, chose a pen you liked and then paid for it.
Wrong!
There were hundreds, literally hundreds to choose from and, as the rather alarmingly knowledgeable sales assistant pointed out, colour was just a tiny consideration.
Tiny.
Gold nibs, stainless-steel nibs, different widths, different weights, did sir use his left hand, right hand, or was he perhaps ambidextrous?
‘It’s worse than trying to get life insurance,’ Tessa muttered as the assistant unlocked yet another display cabinet.
‘I’m having a ball,’ Max enthused. ‘I think I’ve got a buried pen fetish. Look at this one. Black, sleek, nice size.’
‘It’s a pen, Max, not a sports car!’
‘I love it.’ Max held it in his hands, turned it over and weighed it between his fingers as the sales assistant cooed like a dove. ‘I’m serious—I adore it. Is there enough for this one?’
‘If I buy a really crappy card and you forgo a bow.’
‘Done.’
‘And you’d better not lose it!’
‘Scout’s honour.’
‘You’re very spoiled,’ the assistant gushed, lovingly placing the set in a velvet box. ‘I hope you’re going to get your girlfriend something nice in return.’
‘She doesn’t deserve it.’ Max winked, tossing a playful arm around Tessa, not bothering to put the assistant right.
And for a tiny slice of time it was nice to pretend.
Pretend they were just another couple, buying a gift. A brief happy interlude in an otherwise awful day.
But all too soon it was over, all too soon they were back in court, and Tessa’s moment of truth edged ever closer. The inqui
ry moved to the hospital and though it must have been agony for Matthew’s parents, they declined the coroner’s offer to leave for a while as the more gruesome details were read out. Instead, they sat in a strained, dignified silence as the postmortem findings were detailed and the paramedics and then Fred relayed their part in the end of Matthew’s short life.
‘Just speak the truth.’ Max gripped her hand as Tessa’s name was called, and for once she didn’t pull away. At this moment she needed his strength, needed the comfort of his touch.
Taking the bible, Tessa thought she was in a strange dream. She had seen scenes like this on the television but there was no comfort in false reality, her voice wavering as she recited her name, then later answered the coroner’s questions as truthfully as she could, every memory of that fateful night etched on her brain, allowing for total recall.
‘Why did you put the department on bypass?’
‘We were busy,’ Tessa ventured. ‘I had a child in Resus with suspected meningococcal, and we’d taken two victims already from this accident. There were also a lot of other sick patients in the cubicles. When I heard there were two more trapped at the scene I informed the doctor in charge and we decided to go on bypass.’
‘But Matthew arrived anyway.’
Tessa nodded but, realising an answer was called for, leant towards the microphone. ‘Yes. It normally takes twenty minutes to half an hour for the bypass system to be put into place.’
She braced herself for some sharp questions, for some loaded legal jargon, for them to berate her lack of foresight, yet it never came.
‘So you were aware, when you made that call, that more patients could still arrive?’
‘Yes,’ Tessa said simply.
She was speaking the truth.
For an age the coroner peered at his notes before returning his shrewd gaze to her. ‘Dr Frederick Atkins states that all care was delivered to Matthew, that there were sufficient staff to deliver an effective resuscitation. Would you agree, Sister?’
‘Yes. When Matthew arrived I arranged for the immediate transfer of the child with meningococcal to Intensive Care. The other victims from the accident had stabilised.’
The Elusive Consultant Page 7