Hugh hit the orange button to deliver a shock, and Grace convulsed slightly but, when Alex stared at the LCD screen, there was nothing but a straight flat line.
‘Come on, Grace, come on,’ Hugh muttered, his face drawn. ‘Who’s going to keep your boys in line if you’re not here to do it. I’m going to shock her again, Alex, so keep clear.’
She did as he said, and he hit the orange button again, but still the monitor line remained stubbornly flat.
‘Any pulse at all?’ he asked, and she shook her head.
Faintly she could hear Jamie talking excitedly to Chrissie about something he had seen on her computer screen, and desperately she prayed that he would stay in the receptionist’s office because they were running out of time. When a patient suffered a massive cardiac arrest, there was only a small window of opportunity to bring them back, and that window was closing, fast.
‘Come on, Grace!’ Hugh exclaimed as he hit the orange button, again, and again. ‘Breathe, damn you, breathe.’
Still nothing happened, and then Alex saw the flat line on the monitor jump slightly, begin to move erratically up and down, and then wonderfully—miraculously—it settled into a more even rhythm.
‘You’ve got her, Hugh,’ she cried, closing her eyes and sending up a silent prayer of thanks. ‘She’s back—she’s back!’
And the paramedics were there, and within seconds they were carrying Grace out to the ambulance, and it was only when they had gone, and Chrissie had whisked Jamie away with a promise of a magazine from the newsagent’s, that Alex realised she was trembling.
‘Oh, God, Hugh, that was scary,’ she said. ‘Seriously, seriously scary.’
‘Because it was real, Alex,’ he replied, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Because you being here made a difference to the outcome, just as you being here has made a difference for Donna, and Jamie, and Irene Nolan, and all the other patients you’ve seen. It’s where you’re meant to be, where you were born to be.’
‘Subtle you are not,’ she said a little shakily, and a small smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
‘Perhaps not, but I am honest. Think about it, Alex,’ he said as the phone in his room began to ring, ‘because you still have time to change your mind.’
And before she could reply, he had hurried off, leaving her staring after him.
On Saturday night, Alex shook her head ruefully as she gazed out over the crowded village hall. Malcolm had said the party would be ‘nothing fancy’, but if this was what he meant by ‘nothing fancy’ she couldn’t begin to imagine what a ‘push the boat out’ party would be like.
Every man, woman and child from Kilbreckan and the surrounding area seemed to be there, the tables were groaning with food, a ceilidh band was playing a rousing medley of toe-tapping tunes, and across the small stage somebody had strung a banner with the words Bon Voyage, Dr Alex.
‘Having a good time?’ Malcolm shouted above the chatter and laughter, and she nodded.
‘Great—absolutely great,’ she said, except that Hugh had stayed as far away from her as possible all evening, which was understandable—of course it was—but that hadn’t stopped her eyes from following him.
‘You look lovely tonight,’ Malcolm continued. ‘Hugh was just saying the same thing to me a moment ago.’
But not to me, she thought. He’s barely exchanged two words with me, and though she knew it was stupid to care, that it was better this way, she did care. She found she cared a lot.
‘Looks like it’s show time,’ Malcolm observed, seeing Lady Soutar jerking her head at him and pointing imperiously at the stage. ‘Ready for your big moment, Alex?’
As she’d ever be, Alex thought, as Malcolm began pushing his way through the throng, and reluctantly she followed him, knowing what was coming. Someone would say how sorry they all were she was leaving, one of the children from the village school would present her with a bouquet of flowers, and then she would be expected to make a speech, and she hated making speeches, hated being in the limelight, but there was no way she could get out of this.
Malcolm had already got up on the stage by the time she reached the front of the hall, and he waited only until she was there beside him before he called for silence.
‘OK, it goes without saying that we shall all miss you, Alex,’ he said, and there was a rumbled chorus of ‘Damn shame,’ and ‘I wish she was staying on.’
‘You’ve been a real asset to the practice, both personally and professionally, and we felt we could not let you go without giving you a party.’
Someone shouted, ‘Get on with it, Doc,’ and Malcolm wagged his finger at the offender, and Alex stared out over the assembled throng.
So many faces she knew, so many people she’d met and liked. Lady Soutar, Ellie Dickson and her husband with little Alexandra, all of the Allens, apart from Grace who was still in hospital, Donna Ferguson, even Frank and Irene Nolan had come, and Hugh. Hugh was standing at the very back of the hall, leaning against the wall, his dark face inscrutable, and she looked away from him quickly.
‘We also all know how much your bike meant to you,’ Malcolm continued, ‘and for it to be stolen while you were here with us…We all feel very badly about it, and feel, too, that we should try to make amends.’
‘For God’s sake, put the woman out of her misery, doc,’ Rory Murray protested, and Malcolm grinned.
‘OK, Neil. Bring it on stage.’
Bring what on stage? Alex wondered, but before she even had time to guess Neil Allen had appeared from the wings, and he was pushing a gleaming red Ducati. A Ducati that had a huge bow, and a big heart-shaped balloon with the words Good Luck, Doc! tied to its handlebars.
‘Is this…?’ Alex looked helplessly at Malcolm and then out at the villagers standing in front of her. ‘Is this for me?’
Malcolm nodded. ‘Every nut, bolt and cylinder head. Hugh told us about the Lisbon to Dakar rally, that there’s no way you can afford to buy a replacement bike for it in time, so this is our farewell gift to you.’
‘But I can’t accept this,’ Alex protested. ‘It’s too much—way too much.’
‘We all put a little something in,’ Malcolm said briskly, ‘and Lady Soutar was most generous.’
‘Would have come with you to Lisbon myself, Alex, if I’d only been five years younger,’ Bunty exclaimed from the floor of the hall, and, when Malcolm’s eyebrows rose slightly, she added, ‘Oh, very well, make that ten years younger, and it’s a measure of the great affection I feel for Alex that you’ll get me to admit that.’
A ripple of laughter ran around the hall, and Alex shook her head.
‘I…I don’t know what to say,’ she began. ‘For you all to have…I’m not often speechless…’
‘You can say that again.’ Malcolm grinned, and everybody laughed, and Alex tried to smile but it wasn’t easy when there was a hard lump in her throat.
‘All I can say is thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much, and I’ll never forget this, or…’ Her eyes sought for and found Hugh at the back of the hall. ‘Or anybody here.’
A big cheer went up, and people were talking, and laughing, but she scarcely heard them. Her eyes were fixed on Hugh, and when his lips curved into a slight smile, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod, her heart clenched and twisted inside her, and she suddenly realised what she should have seen a long time ago.
That he was right. That the challenges she had set herself had simply been a way of running away from what frightened her the most instead of standing and facing the fear. That she didn’t want to climb any more mountains, take up any more extreme sports, or set herself any more New Year challenges. She wanted to stay right here because she had a different challenge now. A challenge that was a hundred times more scary than any other challenge she had ever faced before.
Quickly she moved to the steps leading down from the stage, but Malcolm barred her way.
‘Are you pleased?’ he said, his face beaming. ‘About the bike?’
<
br /> ‘Absolutely.’ She nodded, trying to sidestep him.
‘It was Hugh’s idea,’ Malcolm continued. ‘He knew how much taking part in the rally meant to you, so he put it to the community council and they agreed unanimously.’
‘It was kind of him—of you all,’ she said, making a detour round him, but she didn’t get far.
Someone said, ‘Come back and tell us all about your trip, Doc,’ and someone else said, ‘Be careful when you’re out there, dear,’ and by the time she’d pushed her way through the throng Hugh was gone.
Well, why should he stay? she thought forlornly. She’d made her feelings plain so many times, so why would he stay?
‘Alex?’
She turned to see Malcolm standing behind her, and managed a smile.
‘I suppose I’d better circulate,’ she said. ‘Thank everyone in person.’
‘Go after him, Alex.’
‘It would be so rude,’ she said, looking at the happy faces of the villagers. ‘This evening is supposed to be for me.’
‘I’ll tell them you’re on call,’ Malcolm replied, then gave her a gentle push. ‘Just go, Alex.’
She did. She slipped out of the hall, and walked up Kilbreckan High Street, but the closer she got to Hugh’s house the slower her feet became.
It was all very well for her to decide that she wanted to stay here, but what if Hugh didn’t want to hear that—what if he no longer cared?
‘Oh, come on, Alex,’ she muttered out loud when she came to a halt outside his house and saw the light on in his sitting room. ‘You’ve been skydiving and white water rafting. How much more scary can this be?’
Downright terrifying, was the short answer, she thought, as she went into the house, took a deep breath, then knocked tentatively on his sitting-room door.
The door opened quickly, and Hugh looked surprised to see her.
‘Surely the party hasn’t finished already?’ he said.
‘No, it’s still going on,’ she replied, ‘but I wanted—I felt—I should thank you for suggesting my farewell gift to the villagers—for organising it.’
He shrugged. ‘No problem.’
The conversation was clearly over as far as he was concerned, but she couldn’t let it be over, and she took a step forward.
‘Can I come in?’ she said, and when his eyebrows rose she added quickly, ‘There’s something I want to say. I won’t stay long,’ she continued as her gaze fell on the piles of papers strewn about his sitting room. ‘You’re clearly busy, but I want—I have—to say something.’
‘OK,’ he said, stepping back. ‘So, what’s so all-fired important that it made you leave a good party?’
She clasped her hands together tightly, and took a deep breath.
‘I…I’ve been thinking about what you said about the challenges I set myself, how they’re not real, and…’ She took another deep breath. ‘You were right, and if the offer of a permanent post with your practice is still open, I’d like to accept it.’
‘Good,’ he said, his face unreadable. ‘That’s good news.’
‘Obviously, I’ll—’
‘Need time off in January to take part in the rally?’ He nodded. ‘Not a problem. Malcolm and I have managed on our own for quite a while so getting by without you for a couple of weeks in January won’t harm us.’
‘Actually, I was going to say I’ll obviously need to find somewhere else to live,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I can’t keep on living in your flat.’
‘Especially not when I’m intending to reconvert it back into a single home,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll make enquiries in the village, see if anybody has a cottage they’d be prepared to let you rent on a long lease.’
‘Right,’ she said. ‘So…that’s settled then?’
‘Looks like it,’ he observed.
‘Good.’ She nodded. ‘Well, as I said, you’re obviously very busy, and I…I have things to do.’
Like trying to figure out how, when I’ve screwed this up so badly, I can possibly make it right again, she thought.
‘Actually, before you go,’ he said. ‘There’s something I’d like to show you—get your opinion of.’
‘Get my opinion of?’ she repeated, and he nodded.
‘It’s in the garage.’
‘Hugh, if you’ve bought yourself a new car, I’m really not the best person to ask for advice,’ she said, as she followed him out of the house and round to his garage. ‘I’m a biker, remember?’
‘It’s not a new car,’ he replied, as he unlocked the garage doors. ‘It’s something a whole lot more spectacular.’
It was, because when he opened the garage doors, and switched on the light, her jaw dropped. There was a motorcycle sitting next to his Range Rover. A brand new Ducati 1000, but this one was blue, not red.
‘You’ve bought a bike?’ she gasped.
‘Went down to Inverness after work last night and collected it,’ he said.
‘But I don’t understand,’ she said slowly. ‘I mean, I know you said you were a biker when you were a med student, and I think it’s great you’ve bought yourself one, but when are you ever going to ride it?’
‘In the Lisbon to Dakar rally. I wired my entrance fee to the organisers this morning. I still have my hotel accommodation to sort out for the first night before the rally starts,’ he continued, ‘but I expect I’ll get in somewhere.’
She stared at him in blank disbelief for a second, then rounded on him.
‘Hugh, are you insane? People die in that race, and you haven’t been on a motorbike for years.’
‘Alex, it’s the ultimate challenge, the opportunity of a lifetime.’
‘What kind of idiot would say that?’ she protested. ‘It’s a stupid thing to say.’
A smile creased his lips.
‘It’s what you said, when you told me you’d entered,’ he pointed out, and she shook her head at him.
‘But I ride every day,’ she exclaimed, ‘Have done for years. Even if you take your bike out every day between now and January, you’ll still be a rookie. You can’t do this, Hugh, you honestly can’t—’
‘Alex, if you’re going to Lisbon to take part in the race, I’m coming with you,’ he exclaimed. ‘I won’t ride beside you, get in your way, encroach on your personal space, but I need to be there, to make sure you’re all right.’
‘No,’ she said, vehemently shaking her head. ‘I won’t allow you to do that. What if you get hurt, what if you…if you should die?’
‘Why should you care what happens to me?’ he said, his eyes dark and penetrating in the dim garage light.
‘Because…because I love you, you big idiot,’ she said. ‘Because I wouldn’t get a minute’s rest, or a moment’s sleep, for worrying about you.’
‘And now you know how I feel,’ he said softly. ‘I love you, Alex Lorimer, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t know how long we’ll have together. I’m hoping it’s going to be years and years, until you’re a little old lady, and I’m a little old man, but whatever the future brings, I want us to face it together.’
‘Hugh—’
‘No, please, let me finish,’ he insisted. ‘I know what you’re going to say. That you’re scared you’ll hurt me by dying, but, leannan, don’t you understand that living without you, knowing you were living somewhere else, miles away from me, would be a hundred times worse for me?’
‘I don’t want to be without you either,’ she said softly. ‘Which is why—’
‘I know you think you’ll somehow fail me because you can’t give me children,’ he interrupted, ‘but, hell, Alex, I don’t know whether I can father children. Jenny was on the Pill the whole time we were married because we didn’t want to start a family right away, so for all I know I might be infertile, too, and even if I’m not, can’t you see, even now, that it’s you I want? Only you. Nobody but you.’
She reached up and touched his cheek, her throat so tight she could hardly speak.
‘Can I say something now?’ she said.
‘Will I want to hear it?’ he replied, his expression uncertain, unsure, and she managed a tremulous smile.
‘Hugh, I don’t want to climb any more mountains, or take part in any more extreme sports. I don’t even want to take part in the rally. You asked me something—it seems a lifetime ago now—and you said you would make it your lifetime aim to persuade me to say it without qualification.’
‘I remember.’ He nodded.
‘Ask me again, Hugh.’
He searched her face, then reached out and clasped her hands in his, and she heard him take a deep breath.
‘Alex, do you trust me?’ he said, and her smile widened.
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘Yes, I trust you.’
‘You do?’ he said, and his face lit up with so much love, that if Alex hadn’t already been in love with him that would have done it. ‘And you’ll marry me?’
‘Yes, I’ll marry you,’ she whispered. ‘Hugh, I’d marry you right this minute if I could.’
And he drew her into his arms, and kissed her, and when she surfaced, breathlessly, clutching onto his shirt, she knew she had no doubts, no misgivings, that he had taken them all away.
All except one, she realised, as her gaze fell on his blue Ducati motorbike.
‘Hugh, what are we going to do about the bike the villagers bought me?’ she said uncertainly. ‘They only bought it because they thought I was going to enter the rally. I’ll have to give it back.’
‘No, you won’t. Not if you actually go to Portugal,’ he replied.
‘But, I don’t want to take part in—’
‘Not to take part in the rally,’ he said, ‘but for our honeymoon.’
‘Our honeymoon?’ she repeated. ‘In January?’
‘I don’t want to wait a second longer than I have to,’ he said, gathering her back into his arms.
She didn’t either.
‘There’s just three things I want you to promise me, Hugh,’ she said into his chest, ‘and then I’ll definitely marry you in January.’
‘Anything you want,’ he murmured huskily.
‘I may be a sporty girl, but I’m not sleeping in a tent on our honeymoon. I want to stay in a proper hotel, with a big double bed, and a bath and a toilet.’
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