3 The Surgeon's Blade

by Faith Mortimer

  Graham paused. “Well, if you don’t mind. I was going to do it all by myself because the caterer is up to her neck in the kitchen. Yes, if you’re sure, that would be a big help.”

  Grateful to have her mind taken off Robert and what he might be doing, Libby followed him back into the kitchen.

  A delicious aroma greeted them, and Libby could see that the caterer had her hands full. “They’re plated up and ready to go out to your guests,” she said as Graham eyed the food laid out on the pine table.

  “Libby, meet Pauline, cook extraordinaire!”

  The two women smiled at each other and Pauline indicated which plates Libby was supposed to hand round.

  It was a great way for Libby to get to meet everyone, and the next couple of hours flew by. She made sure everyone had enough to eat and managed to snatch a dance or two. She forgot how many glasses of Pimm’s she had drunk. By twelve o’clock, her feet ached in her high heels. She felt decidedly tipsy, and she was beginning to flag. With a sigh of pleasure, she eased her feet out of her shoes and sank down into an easy chair. Graham brought her a plateful of delicacies and a glass of champagne.

  “Here you are, love. You’ve earned it. I don’t think I could have managed without your help. Cheers!”

  Libby took an appreciative sip and smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “I’m sure you’d have found someone else.”

  He grinned. “Maybe, but not from anyone as pretty as you. You did a grand job. Stephanie’s grateful too. By the way, I’ve just had a call from Robert saying he’ll be here in a short while.”

  He gave her a grin. Libby didn’t know what to say. From the look on his face, it appeared Graham knew nothing about her row with Robert. As Stephanie hadn’t mentioned it, Libby decided Robert must have kept it to himself. Graham wandered off back outside leaving Libby to finish her meal. Suddenly she felt trapped. He would be bringing that gorgeous creature with the perfect hair and body with him. Libby made a decision. She had experienced one episode of Robert ignoring her and didn’t want another.

  Putting her unfinished plate of food down on a table next to her, she hastily swallowed the glass of bubbly and stood up, brushing crumbs from her dress. If she was quick she could say ‘goodbye’ to Stephanie and Graham and get out of there before Robert arrived.

  As she looked round for her handbag, she felt a draught from the front door, and turning, she found the subject of her misery looking thoughtfully at her from the doorway. Peering round him, Libby noticed he was alone. Tongue-tied, she didn’t know what to say. Should she ignore him and leave or try and brazen it out?

  The decision was taken from her as Robert made the first move. He made as if to turn around and go into the garden, then he stopped and walked over to her. Libby felt her heart thumping in her chest as he approached.

  “Robert,” she murmured, noting he looked like he had cut himself shaving.

  “Libby. I just want to say, because this is my sister’s homecoming party, I don’t want to make either a scene or let her know the truth about our falling out. I—” He paused as he dragged a hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry about that day on Caterina. I said some awful things, and I wished I hadn’t. I never meant them.”

  Robert stared at Libby, trying to make up his mind whether he believed her or not. Libby hesitated. She felt sick inside and, for some reason, on the verge of tears. She had just apologised, and he hadn't made any comment. She attempted to walk past him when he grasped hold of her arm.

  “Do you mean that? Are you sorry?”

  Libby’s lip trembled, but she spoke in a firmer voice. “I said so, didn’t I?” She took a deep breath. She mustn’t let him think she cared one way or the other. “I had no right to say any of those things. Please let go of my arm, Robert, you’re hurting me.”

  Robert’s eyes darkened and Libby thought he clearly didn’t believe her.

  Her heart pounded and her mouth was dry. Libby rushed towards the kitchen, thinking there would be plenty of people there to talk to. She moved towards the group hanging and laughing round the bar. She needed a drink badly.

  “Libby, what can I get you?” Graham asked. “Would you like some more champagne, or would you like another Pimm’s?”

  “Champagne! After all, we’re celebrating Stephanie’s recovery. Thank you and cheers to everyone!” Libby forced a note of gaiety into her voice after raising her glass to the others. There was a chorus of well-wishers. Libby could see Robert in the corner of her eye as he followed her into the room. Glass in hand, she continued through to the garden.

  Her earlier seat next to Stephanie was occupied, and Libby looked round in panic. She really wanted to leave. She was determined to say her goodbyes there and then. She had had more alcohol than usual and was in danger of becoming drunk if she stayed.

  “Are you going? Oh, what a shame. Still if you have to work, then I do understand. Libby’s a sister at Southampton General,” Stephanie declared to the couple sitting near her. “She gave me wonderful care when I was on her ward.” The others looked over to Libby with interest and soon found she was fending off questions concerning the so-called watcher or stalker, as he was now called. Being a member of the hospital staff, all the guests seemed to think she had some inside information. However, once they realised she knew little more than they did, they soon joined Stephanie in saying 'goodbye'.

  Libby and Stephanie agreed to get together during the week, and Libby was able to escape by the front door after locating her shoes and handbag.

  As the door shut behind her, she drew a deep breath and steadied herself. She felt dreadful. Meeting Robert and behaving like a coward, she didn’t deserve to feel otherwise. She walked down the drive towards the direction of her parked Mini, wobbling dangerously in her high heels. Drat! She realised she had definitely had far too much to drink and was well over the legal limit. She would have to be ultra-careful once she got behind the wheel. She knew she should call a cab, but her first priority was to make a quick getaway from Robert.

  She took a deep breath, attempting to sober up, and took a moment to look around her while she remembered where she had parked her car. Having arrived Arriving late, the spaces near Stephanie and Graham’s house had all been taken, so she had parked further down the road. It was a couple of hundred metres, and Libby set off along the path. At first, she imagined the figure moving stealthily between the trees on the other side of the road. When she finally realised she wasn't alone, she panicked. She fumbled in her handbag looking for her keys and ended up dropping them. After scrambling around on the pavement in terror, she managed to retrieve them and insert the correct one into the lock. Terrified, she felt nausea beginning to wash over her as she saw the figure getting closer…

  If only she hadn’t had those last two glasses of champagne, she thought. She turned the key in the ignition. Please start, please start, she prayed. The engine was sluggish and backfired as she pumped the accelerator. Why on earth hadn’t she had the damn thing serviced? she remonstrated with herself, almost sobbing with fear. She turned the key again and waited – nothing happened. She was petrified as she sat there, not knowing what to do. Lock the doors, she thought. She turned in her seat towards the door knob and went to press the button down, God, she felt so woozy and sick again. Perhaps she…

  A tap on the glass made her scream. She looked up and saw Robert next to her car, bending down at her window.

  “Whoa, why are you so jumpy? Are you having trouble? What seems to be the problem?” he asked, speaking through the window.

  “Robert! God, you gave me a fright. It won’t start. It’s been playing up lately.” Her heart was thudding in her breast.

  “And when did you have it serviced last, eh? Don’t tell me. Women seem to have this uncanny knack of waiting until something goes wrong before they decide to do something about it, even if it means their vehicle might be da
ngerous. Come on get out while I have a go.”

  Feeling foolish and unsteady on her feet, Libby half climbed, half fell out of the car. He supported her once she stood up.

  “Bloody hell, how much have you had to drink?” he grumbled. “There’s no way you should be even attempting to drive home. Come on, I’ll take you back.”

  Libby tried to stand up straight and didn’t succeed. Instead she slumped against the car and slowly began to slide down.

  Robert wasted no time. He hoisted her upright and put a supporting arm around her. “My car’s just down here.”

  “No, no,” she said weakly. “I don’t want—”

  “What you want and what you’re going to get are two different things entirely. You are in no fit state to either drive or argue.”

  Putting an arm around her waist, he marched her down to his car, pushed her into the passenger side, and fitted the seat belt around her before climbing in himself. Once he was seated, Libby began to moan.

  “Don’t argue, Libby. Just shut up will you? I’m driving you home, and that’s final.”

  “I said, I think I’m going to be sick!”

  Muttering an oath, he reached over and opened her door – not a moment too late.

  Chapter 18

  Libby opened her eyes and groaned. Who on earth had a road drill going today? Being a weekend, surely it wasn’t allowed. She gave a start. Where the devil was she? Struggling to sit up she stared at the room she was in. She was lying in a double bed in a room with walls painted a soft green. There were long curtains covering the windows, and a wide wardrobe and tall chest of drawers stood against another wall. For one terrifying moment, Libby thought she had lost her memory again, but when she felt how raw her throat was after being sick earlier, it all came flooding back. She remembered leaving Stephanie and Graham’s house and getting into her car – which wouldn’t start! Robert! Robert had been there. She gave another groan. It didn’t take a huge amount of imagination to realise she was in Robert’s house. She had another thought – she sincerely hoped it wasn’t his bed!

  She threw the bedcovers off and discovered she was only dressed in her underwear. She couldn’t recollect taking her dress off, but where was it? Libby stood up, crossed over to the curtains and drew one aside. She found she was looking down onto a surprisingly pretty and cared-for garden. Neat hedges and well-cut grass competed with a couple of colourful and well-stocked flower beds. Her head swam, and she realised she was suffering from one hell of a hangover. Her throat was parched, and she would have given anything for a glass of water.

  A slight tap on the door had her whirling round in the direction of the sound. Embarrassed over her state of undress, she hurried back to the bed and pulled the covers over her. Seconds later the door opened a crack, and Robert poked his head in.

  “Good morning. How’s the hangover then?” he said cheerily.

  “Terrible.”

  “Fancy some tea?”

  “Lovely.”

  “Milk, sugar?”

  “Just a spot of milk please.”

  “Hokey doke. I’ll be right back then.”

  Libby could hear him whistling somewhere in the house. Nursing her sore head, she lay back upon the pillows wondering just how on earth she had managed to land herself in so much trouble. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.

  “One cup of tea.” Robert tapped on her door again before stepping inside.

  Libby sat up making sure the sheet was up to her shoulders and then felt foolish as she was sure it was Robert who had removed her dress and shoes before leaving her to sleep off the alcohol. Drat the man!

  “I expect you’re wondering where your dress is?” He indicated the wardrobe door, and Libby nodded as she took a sip of tea.

  “Sorry, but I couldn’t let you drive home in the state you were in last night. And if I’d taken you home in your car – if I’d managed to get it started – then I’d have had no way of getting back here. I doubt if you’d have liked finding me asleep on your sofa in the morning either.” He grinned ruefully at her.

  “But it’s okay for me to wake up here, is it?” Libby asked softly.

  “Don’t be scratchy! Look, it was the best and probably the only thing to do. Oh, I suppose I could have taken you back into Stephanie’s, but you were so out of it, it was unbelievable. At least this way nobody need know you spent the night here. If I’d spent the night at your place, I expect your fiancé would have found out somehow and beaten my head in. We both know how paranoid he is.”

  Libby caught her breath and exhaled with a deep sigh. “I suppose so. How did you—?” She indicated her state of undress.

  Robert nodded. “Yes, but I averted my eyes – honest.” He gave Libby a cheeky grin. “I thought it best because you might have been sick on it again or ruined it in bed. It’s okay, anyway.”

  “Thank you for going to so much trouble. I seem to be repeatedly in your debt somehow.”

  “Libby I—” He stopped. “Oh nothing. Look, get up when you want to. I’m not doing anything important today, and you can lie in for as long as you want. When you feel like it, I’ve got some nice fresh rolls and coffee for breakfast. Take your time. The bathroom is just along the corridor on the right, help yourself to a shower. There’s everything you’ll need in the top drawer of the chest here, including towels.”

  With that, he turned on his heel and left Libby nursing her cup of tea. He hadn’t misused his power over her, and she felt completely at ease in his house, in this bed, even if it wasn’t directly his. Robert never ceased to surprise her.

  ~~~~

  After showering, Libby tidied the covers on the bed and, carrying her ludicrously high heels in one hand, made her way downstairs. A gorgeous aroma of warming bread and freshly-brewed coffee met her once she reached the ground floor. Following her nose, she found Robert sitting and reading in the kitchen.

  “There you are. Sit down…please. Coffee or more tea?” Robert got up and laid his newspaper down on his seat.

  “Coffee, please.” Libby moved over to the table and sat down opposite where he had been sitting. As he busied himself with the coffeemaker, Libby leant over and picked up the paper. Within seconds her attention was caught by the headline in the local rag. ‘Nurse violently attacked at Southampton General!’ Libby gasped as she read the text, a feeling of horror creeping over her.

  So what Lisa had warned her about was all true. There definitely was a serial stalker at the hospital, only this time he hadn't just given someone a fright, he had viciously attacked one of the nurses. Libby read on, ‘During the early hours of Saturday morning, Staff Nurse Eloise Black was savagely attacked as she stepped outside the hospital building during her break. Ms Black was admitted to the hospital and is said to be suffering from multiple stab wounds and severe shock. A police spokesman said, ‘we are treating this case with the utmost severity and welcome any person or persons who may have witnessed or have some information about this shocking attack. All information will be treated with the maximum confidentiality.’ There was a contact name and police telephone number at the end of the article.

  Libby didn’t know the staff nurse, but that hardly made any difference. This poor woman had been subjected to a brutal attack while on duty at the hospital. Libby looked at the report again, but there was nothing else written on the subject. Multiple stab wounds! She looked over at Robert with a stunned look upon her face.

  “Yes, I’ve seen it. Terrible isn’t it?” he said. “Do you know her?”

  Libby shook her head. “No, I don’t. But then I’ve only been there a year, and it’s a big place.”

  Robert nodded and placed a mug of coffee in front of Libby. He indicated a jug of frothy milk and the sugar bowl already on the table. “I wonder why hospitals seem to attract so many weirdoes.”

  Libby shrugged. “Maybe they don’t. Maybe it’s just that there are so many people in one place all at once. I knew we had a stalker, but this is one step further. This is dreadful. And
it happened last night according to this,” she said, waving the newspaper in his direction. “I do hope she’ll be okay.”

  “Do you ever work nights?”

  “Not if I can help it. Sometimes, when we’re really short. I haven’t done any for months now.”

  “Well, for God’s sake, please don’t if you can avoid it.”

  Libby was surprised at the urgent tone of his voice and met his eye. “I’ll do my best, I hate working nights anyway. They always mess up my body rhythm.”

  Robert turned away and walked over to the oven. Wearing oven mitts, he removed half a dozen golden crusty rolls and placed them in a basket. “Do you think you could manage to eat something?” he asked, putting the hot rolls in front of her. “I always find lining your stomach with something makes a hangover pass more quickly.”