The jarring sound of a saxophone played by someone with more optimism than talent caused them both to jump slightly. Chris felt the tension settle in his stomach again, then he followed Mike into the lounge and saw the woman who had haunted his thoughts and his dreams. His first thought was that she always looked better than he remembered. She was wearing her favourite shade of pale jeans, and a dark polo neck, her elegant glasses highlighted the bones of her face, and when she smiled at him he wanted to jump up and down and whoop with joy.
He realised that Julia was talking to him, “We’re going to unpack,” she said with a lascivious grin, and he nodded absently at her and loomed over Harry for a moment, before the careful last minute instructions sank in, and he sat down opposite her and opened his mouth to start the speech he had rehearsed.
“Thank you for coming Chris.”
He closed his mouth and smiled at her feeling the adrenaline surging through his veins, and then he took a breath and listened to his own words pouring out before he had a chance to think, “I missed you Harry, and I’m sorry, I was out of order. I just felt cross with myself for not thinking of coffee, I know how much you like coffee.”
“It’s okay, I know you were up all night. Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”
“Nobody ever remembers my birthday, sorry did that sound forlorn?”
“Not forlorn Chris.” She paused, then added with a smile, “I know this is a completely random question, but how often do you go down to that cave? I was wondering about the torch.”
“Quite a lot,” he admitted, “can I take you back?”
“I’d like that.”
“How is you hand?”
“Back to normal really, I can use my fountain pen again.”
“I’m glad,” he said tenderly, he wanted to ask about her hip, but Mike’s instructions had been detailed, and he knew he needed to go slow.
A man from the gardens interrupted their conversation, he showed them his latest crop of garlic, and he watched her smile and watched the man try to make her smile again.
“Shall we go for a walk?” she asked, when he disappeared into the kitchen, and they were briefly gloriously alone again. She showed him round the paths and pointed out the flowers and the trees and views that made her happy. Then she stopped at the foot of the steep path to the greenhouses and pointed out all the things she could see.
“Shall we sit up there?”
“Thank you,” she said simply, and he effortlessly navigated the stone steps. The view was better than she imagined, and she savoured the feel of the rough cold metal. She smiled up at him when he sat down beside her and she squeezed her hand, feeling free from her safe sanitized trappings with a man who thus far had been deliciously unpredictable and treated her like an equal, even if that had been bruising on occasion.
“How’s the hospital?”
“The usual, the charge nurse in accident and emergency put in a formal complaint about Belinda, she has accused him of bullying, one of the paediatricians punched a security guard who wouldn’t let him park in a disabled bay when he was running late to an emergency. It’s all the things I dreamt about at University.”
“What did you dream about when you were a medical student?”
He took her hand and told her about the first time he had visited the hospital with his father. He had been a porter in the same surgical wing for many years, and the consultant had taken the time to show his son the operating theatres and the long Victorian wards. He had learned about the decisions, the detective work and the intense charged camaraderie. As a boy who had been an outsider in almost setting, he saw a chance to belong and to pit his brains and his body against the ultimate enemy.
It took him a moment to notice the policeman climbing towards them. He had swapped his suit for a pair of pristine denims, and he sat down on the edge of the table and made sure he was at eye level with Harry. He asked her how she was, and exchanged pleasantries for just the right amount of time, then he gently explained that Lord Darley’s barracuda of a lawyer was likely to force through his application for bail.
Chris felt the tension in her delicate torso, and he moved closer to her. “Thank you for telling me in person.” She smiled her thanks at PC Andrews, and he smiled back at her.
“I was going to offer my services as a bodyguard for the weekend, but it looks as though you’re doing just fine.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Chris said pleasantly.
“I can understand that.” The policeman rose to his feet and retraced his steps back to his sleek sports car. Chris opened his mouth, then closed it again and thought hard. Julia and Mike appeared in view and scrambled breathlessly up the muddy track.
“Did he see you too?” Harry asked her.
“All of me,” Julia said unhappily.
“Tricky situation for everyone I imagine.” Harry told her, and couldn’t help sparing a moment of sympathy for the elegant policeman.
“Anyway, Harry what did he want?”
“Lord Darley might get released on bail.”
“That’s horrible,” she stepped closer to her friend and touched her face, “we’ll protect you.” Mike nodded emphatically, he would have liked to touch her too, but he had no intention of being thrown out of Julia’s inventive arms.
They made food in the communal kitchen, and drank wine out of mismatched glasses. Afterwards they went back to the suite of rooms and Julia launched into an awkward monologue about not minding at all where they all slept.
“Julia honey close the door and we’ll see you at breakfast.” Harry closed the door that the divided the suite of rooms in two, and smiled slightly nervously at the big handsome surgeon. He sat down on the bed and looked at her. Mike had told him to put himself in her shoes, and when he looked into her big dark eyes he found to his relief that it was easy.
“I’d like to be very close to you,” he said protectively, “do you mind if I make up a bed for myself on the floor in here?”
“That would be lovely, thank you so much.”
She disappeared into the bathroom and tried to gather her thoughts, despite her intense attraction for him, she still felt far too raw to rekindle anything physical. All the same she felt slightly disconcerted that he hadn’t fought harder to climb into her bed. Perhaps this was some honourable surgeon outreach thing, she wondered what he would do if she tried to kiss him goodnight, then she remembered the humiliation of her last attempt, and she pulled on her pyjamas and brushed her teeth.
Chris was pouring out a particularly nice liqueur when she emerged, and he stopped and smiled at her. “You look amazing in pyjamas, especially stripy ones.”
“I’m glad to hear that, I do have rather a fondness for pyjamas.”
She transferred into bed and he sat down beside her and handed her a glass. “This is my favourite drink; I found it in Spain when Jeff and I were still students.” He edged closer to her, intoxicated by the suggestion of her curves beneath her top and the memory of her delicious nipples. It was an effort of will not to kiss her and gently peel off her clothes, reluctantly he climbed to his feet and stretched out on his makeshift bed.
“Goodnight Chris,” Harry said softly, wondering why on earth a tired surgeon would drive all the way up the lakes on a Friday night, battle off the opposition with a sexy ease, then lie down so comfortably on the floor. She would have given the matter more thought, but she was still so tired and she closed her eyes and savoured the sound of his breathing.
He woke her up with coffee in the morning, he was wearing battered jeans and yet another rugby top. She pulled herself into a sitting position and found herself at eye level with his zipper. It was very distracting indeed and she tried to look grateful when he smiled down at her with his blue eyes full of concern and protectiveness.
She introduced him to the delights of the vegetarian buffet, and he ordered scrambled eggs and ate an astonishing amount of cereal. He had been hoping to spend a quiet morning with her, thinkin
g that they could engineer a slice of privacy beside the nearby lake, but Julia introduced the choice of outings with a firmness that squashed any protests. After a lengthy dialogue and a lot of coffee they chose the standing stones and Chris took his place in the back of the car and felt like a schoolboy when he touched his leg against hers.
He started to realise the practicalities of her existence, the careful way Julia found a parking space on dry ground, and the subtle and sometimes obvious curiosity of the people around them. They stopped for lunch in a small village by the side of Lake Windermere, it took several streets to find a restaurant that Harry could access. Chris realised that the choice of food was secondary, and watched her becoming quieter until a pretty French restaurant presented itself and Harry followed her friends into the cosy interior with her dark eyes unreadable. Mike moved a chair away and she smiled her thanks, Chris pulled his chair as close to her as he could, and fought the urge to hit the waiter when he spoke loudly and clearly to her.
A woman at the next table asked if she was okay, Harry thanked her with a graciousness that Chris didn’t think she deserved, and watched in mild disbelief as the woman kept talking and kept asking questions until Harry described the bicycle accident and smiled into the woman’s sympathy. Julia rescued her in response to a cue that he almost didn’t recognise and Mike spoke rather determinedly about the history of the village.
He started to understand her love of the quiet community in the old hotel, and he watched the pleasure in her eyes as they settled back in front of one of the many fireplaces in the gently shabby building. A blonde woman with a labrador at her heels described the latest haul from the greenhouse, and he forced down a cup of nettle tea.
Harry excused herself quickly after dinner, and Chris followed her. He waited until the door was closed, then he sat down on the bed and watched her tired transfer. “Is it always like that Harry? People being so obvious about their curiosity?”
She stretched out on the bed and smiled up at him. “Chris that was nothing, unless I’m rude, a trip to buy a pint of milk can take a good half an hour. I don’t mind really, I am different, and when I’m not tired or in a hurry, I remind myself that actually this is a really good way to educate people about disability.”
He touched her hand with a complex mix of protectiveness and desire. “But does it bother you?”
She grinned ruefully at him, “I should have known better than to give a doctor free reign to ask me questions.”
“Sorry, am I as bad as them?”
“No of course not,” she settled back against the pillows, and was surprised to find that she felt very relaxed in his company. “Does it bother me? Well it depends how people go about things, and how careful they are about their choice of words. Sometimes people’s choice of words can sting a bit.”
“Are you always so polite?”
“I must admit I can be a bit terse sometimes.” She rubbed the back of her neck and moved her shoulders uncomfortably.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m just rather out of practice, I’ve spent the past two weeks sitting in one place, and we covered quite a lot of ground today. It’ll take a couple of weeks for the transfers and the exertion of pushing my chair to be a bit less tiring.”
“Would you like a massage?” He asked casually, and they looked at each other for a very long time.
“Thank you Chris, I would like that.”
He grinned at her and moved slightly closer. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?” His eyes sank hungrily onto her breasts, and he fought the urge to gently unfasten her buttons and delight in her sumptuous curves.
“Okay then I will, could you get us some of that delicious liqueur?”
“Of course,” he walked slowly to the kitchen and realised that he would have to tread very carefully indeed in this sensitive process of courtship and lovemaking. He filled the glasses and waited until she called him back into the bedroom. He felt so grateful to have this second chance with the lovely woman he cared so much about and he wanted to tell her that they could move as slowly as she wanted, as long as she let him stay.
She was lying on her stomach in a pair of stripy red pyjama trousers, she had a gentle sprinkling of freckles over her shoulder blades, and he stood for a moment pulled his pheromones under control. “There’s a body lotion by the bed,” she said, and he heard the slight tremor in her voice.
He ran his hands over her back, finding the knots and savouring the warmth of her skin. He had always trusted his hands more than his words, and he tried to convey his care for her with every gentle stress of his powerful hands. He felt the tension draining out of her delicate form and heard her breathing starting to change. “Thank you,” she said sleepily, “that was amazing.”
“Shall I help you into your top?”
“That would be lovely,” she said, too tired to maintain her boundaries. Her arms were shaking as he helped her button up her shirt and the man who carelessly seduced more women than he cared to remember, sat down beside her with a tenderness in his heart that he did not recognise and watched her fall asleep.
Chapter twelve
The sound of his pager woke them up in the morning, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Mr Patel. “They want me back,” he said unhappily, there’s been further unrest in the city centre.” He paused and touched her lovely face. “I don’t feel happy leaving you. They’ve probably released that violent idiot by now, perhaps I should phone him back and ask if he can find someone else.”
“Please don’t do that Chris, not on my account, if people have been hurt then they deserve the best.”
“What will you do?”
“Julia will keep me safe,” she said with a grin, “she’s pretty scary when she wants to be.” They ate a final breakfast together and he tried to think of a way of asking her if he could come round after he finished at the hospital. He did ask her finally, and she smiled at him in a way that made his heart lift. “I’d like that very much,” she said simply, and he held the memory of her smile close to his chest while he started his lonely journey back to the hospital where they needed him.
Julia arrived in the dining room with a spring in her step. “Belinda has asked the three of us to come back, apparently my insights into the problems with the results were incredibly helpful.”
“Congratulations,” Harry said drily.
“Where’s tall dark and tactful?”
“Don’t be mean. I’m feeling rather fond of him.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Anyway, he’s already left for the hospital.”
“Do you think they called him before they called us?”
Harry didn’t answer her, she poured out another cup of coffee and realised with a secret smile that her shoulders felt much better. They packed quickly and said drawn out goodbyes. A weak autumn sun lit their journey back to Manchester, and they filled their time with a debate about the best programming techniques to patch the latest problems.
Belinda was waiting for them when they got back, she greeted them with a ghost of a smile then stepped back into her office. Mike powered up his computer and carried on his debate with Harry. He pulled his keyboard into a comfortable position and tried out the strategy that Harry had suggested. The screens started moving slightly faster and she grinned at him. He smiled back and reflected on his feelings for a moment. He had wondered if the warmth that he felt for her would fade, but if anything his affection seemed to have intensified. He realised that his deepening relationship with Julia allowed him to understand that she would always be important to him, and that made him rather glad.
At lunch time Julia and Mike rushed out to buy sandwiches, Belinda watched them go and stepped tentatively out of the office. “Welcome back, we all missed you.”
“Thank you, I missed you lot too.”
“Are you okay? Has everything healed?”
“Well it doesn’t look pretty,” Harry held up her arm and showed Belinda the re
d healing scar that ran from the back of her hand, almost to her elbow.
“You’re still beautiful,” Belinda told her with a shy smile.
“Thank you, it’s kind of you to say so.”
“Did you get things sorted? With Chris I mean.”
“I’m not sure, he’s more complicated than he appears at first glance.”
“I think he might be worth the risk.” Belinda told her wistfully.
“I think you might be right.”
They worked until the light started to fade, then Belinda let them go and listened to their comfortable debate about a choice of takeaway. They based themselves in Julia’s house, the spectre of Harry’s unwanted pursuer hung awkwardly in the air, and Mike realised that he didn’t even want to let her out of his sight.
Chris was on the post-operative ward when Mr Patel found him. “Sorry to drag you back.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled at the older man and finished his careful post-operative drawing.
“There’s at least two people that wouldn’t be walking out on their own legs if it wasn’t for your work today.”
Chris grinned at him, “You’ve got your pep talk voice on.”
“Have you looked at the time?”
Chris stopped smiling, “How did that happen?”
He walked down the IT suite in the desperate hope that she was still there, she wasn’t, but PC Andrews reached the portacabin at the same time as they did. Things unfolded in quick succession after that, the horrible discovery that Lord Darley had drunkenly hit another car, the fact that it was the same model that Julia drove, the fact that it wasn’t Julia’s car and the fact that Lord Darley was no longer at the scene of the crime.
Chris dashed to his car and battled as quickly as he could through the congested roads to South Manchester. He had planned to leave at five, he should have left at five, the usual snarl of traffic obscured the end of the road and he abandoned his car and broke into a run. Mike answered the door, and a big man with a red face tried to step into the room. “Her mother promised her to me,” he said with a slur, and started to push past him. Julia sat down very close to Harry, and tightly held her hand and Olivia emerged from the kitchen with a pan, she was lifting it above her head when Chris burst through the door. He waited for the man to turn around, then he knocked him to the floor.
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