‘So how long will she be in?’ he asked the registrar the next day.
‘Just a few days. We want to get her anticoagulation sorted and then she can be discharged.’
He felt a flicker of fear, the tightening of the noose of responsibility, and consciously slowed his breathing down.
‘Surely she can’t come home until she’s able to look after herself?’
‘But I gather you’re at home now, so that’s not a problem, is it?’
He arched a brow. ‘You want me to look after my mother? Attend to her personal care?’
‘Why not? You’re a doctor.’
But she’s my mother! he wanted to scream, but it was pointless. She would have done the same for him, and it was only because it made him feel trapped that he was so desperate to get away. And last night, with Gemma—well, it had been an emotional minefield every bit as dangerous to his health as the one he’d encountered on the bike, and he hadn’t been able to get away from the pub quick enough.
He’d used Digger as an excuse, and he’d gone back to the house, collected the dog and taken him for a long walk along the beach in the moonlight, right down to the far end and back while he thought about Gemma and how he still wanted her so badly it was tearing holes in him.
He couldn’t do it—couldn’t stay here. He just wanted to get away, to go back to Africa and lick his wounds in peace. Well, not peace, exactly, but anonymity, at least, without the benefit of the residents of Penhally telling him he’d deserted his mother and let his brother run wild and failed them both, with Gemma in the background reminding him that he’d failed her, too, or why the hell else would she have left him when everything between them had seemed so incredibly perfect?
But he couldn’t go back to Africa, because he couldn’t operate, because his collar bone hadn’t just broken, it had shredded his left brachial plexus and damaged the sensory nerves to his left hand, and his shoulder was still weak from the tear to his rotator cuff when he’d landed on it, and his leg—well, his ankle would heal slowly and improve with time, unlike his hand, but in the meantime he’d struggle to stand for hours operating, even if he could feel what he was doing with his hand, which he couldn’t, and he couldn’t ride a bike, not with his left arm so compromised and his ankle inflexible, so it was pointless thinking about it and tormenting himself.
And his mother aside, there was the problem of Jamie, who had come in last night at seventeen minutes past ten. Late, but not so late that he was going to say anything, and so they’d established an uneasy truce.
But the need to get away was overwhelming, and after he left the hospital he drove up onto Bodmin Moor and walked for hours with Digger over the rough grass and heather until his ankle was screaming and he wasn’t sure how he’d get back, his mind tortured with memories of Gemma, lying there with him in the heather and kissing him back for hour after hour until he thought he’d die of frustration.
Huh. No way. He’d discovered through painful and bitter experience that you didn’t die of frustration, you just wished you could, because that would bring an end to it at last.
He sat down on a granite outcrop with the panting Jack Russell at his feet and stared out over the barren, wild landscape while he waited for the pain in his ankle to subside. He could see a few sturdy little ponies grazing and, in the distance, a small herd of Devon Red bullocks turned out for fattening on the spring grass. But apart from that and the inevitable sheep dotted about like cotton-wool balls in the heather, there was nothing there but the wide-open skies and the magical, liquid sound of the curlews.
And gradually, as the warmth of the spring sun seeped into his bones and the bleak, familiar landscape welcomed him home, he accepted what he had to do—what he’d known, ever since he’d had the phone call about her stroke, that he would have to do.
He didn’t like it—he didn’t like it one bit—but he had no choice, and he would do it, because that was who he was. He would stay at home and look after his mother until she was better, he’d get his brother back on the rails, and then he’d look at his future.
Always assuming he could get off this damned moorland without calling out the Air Ambulance!
‘Lauren?’
The physiotherapist looked up and smiled at him a little warily. ‘Oh, hi, Sam. How are you?’
He pulled a wry face. ‘Sore—that was what I wanted to see you about. I don’t suppose I can book myself in for some physio with you, can I? I overdid it up on Bodmin this afternoon and I could do with a good workout. Maybe after you finish one evening?’
Her face clouded. ‘Oh. Um—evenings aren’t good for me. I’ve got RP—retinitis pigmentosa…’
She was going blind? ‘Hell, I’m sorry, I had no idea.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s fine, Sam. It’s progressing slowly, but I’ll take it as it comes and in the meantime—well, I can still do practically everything I did before, but I only work daylight hours now. I can’t see very well when the light fades, but I’m more than happy to fit you in at lunchtime—or if Gabriel’s not working late so he can get home for the dog, I can do it then if you don’t mind giving me a lift home?’
‘Of course not—but lunchtime’s fine if it suits you best. It’s just my ankle.’
‘Not your hand and arm?’
He hesitated, glancing down at it and wondering if it was so damned obvious to everyone.
‘I noticed you don’t use it,’ she said gently, ‘and you don’t use your shoulder much, either, but it’s not obvious, Sam. It’s my job—I ought to be able to tell. But it doesn’t matter now. Just come and we’ll go through it all then, see what I need to do for you. Say—one tomorrow?’
He gave her a fleeting smile. ‘That would be great.’
‘Can’t you keep away, Sam?’
He straightened up and stepped back out of Lauren’s doorway, and met the older man’s eyes. ‘Hi, Nick.’
‘So, have you changed your mind? I sincerely hope so. We’re so damned busy it’s ridiculous. Dragan’s out today because the baby was ill and Melinda’s had a foul cold and he thinks he’s going down with it, too, just to add insult to injury, and everyone in Penhally seems to have realised it’s coming up to the spring bank holiday weekend so they’re trying to get in quick, and I’m desperately trying to find time to organise the lifeboat barbeque for Saturday. So if you want a job…?’
‘Organising the barbeque?’ he asked, surprised, but Nick gave a short laugh.
‘No, you don’t get off that lightly—the locum job.’
He sighed and rammed a hand through his hair. ‘Nick, I—’
‘Please?’
‘I’m out of touch.’
‘Rubbish. What the hell do you think you’ve been doing in Africa?’
He laughed. ‘Taking out an appendix under local? Trying to rehydrate a tiny child with boiled river water with some salt flung in it? Lancing an abscess the size of a football? Not juggling someone’s drugs to get the best result from their blood-pressure medication, or advising some spoilt middle-aged woman to drink more water, get off her backside and take some exercise if she wants to get rid of her constipation, that’s for sure! Hell, Nick, I can’t do this any more.’
‘Of course you can. Compared to Africa it’ll be a walk in the park.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t want this, Nick. Don’t ask me, please.’
‘Why not? It’s a great practice, and if you wanted to come back permanently, with Lucy gone I’m sure we can find a slot for you here.’ His voice changed, becoming deeper, huskier, and he looked exhausted. ‘We’re desperate, Sam. We’ve been struggling without Lucy for weeks, keeping the job open for her because we couldn’t get a locum, but now—well, we need to advertise the post and that takes time, and frankly we’re all at the end of our rope. We need you.’
Them and everyone else, it seemed. He sighed again and turned away, but there was nowhere to go, because Jamie was running wild and his mother was in hospital and needed him for weeks, if no
t months, and he couldn’t just sit on his backside and watch the world go to hell while he twiddled his thumbs, it just wasn’t in his nature. But…
‘The people here don’t want me, Nick. I was a nightmare.’
‘You were a boy. You’re a man now. And people forget.’
‘Not in Penhally, they don’t. They’re all bloody elephants.’
Nick chuckled, but his face was still hopeful and he could feel the staff behind the reception desk all holding their breath for his reply.
He shook his head slowly, feeling the ground crumbling beneath his feet. ‘OK. I’ll help you out—but just the odd day here and there. Nothing drastic. And don’t go getting ideas about me coming back in a full-time, permanent post or anything like that, because it just won’t happen.’
Nick smiled, slapped him on the shoulder and led him over to Reception. ‘Of course not. Hazel, sign him up for locum duty, please. And start booking him in for as much as you can talk him into. I haven’t had a day off in four weeks and I’m tired. He can cover Dragan’s surgeries tomorrow. Oh, and schedule a practice meeting for the morning—I’ll introduce you to everyone, Sam. I’m sure they’ll all be delighted you’ve agreed to join us.’
‘Temporarily.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Nick agreed, but there was something in his voice that wasn’t in the least reassuring.
Sam shut his eyes and sighed. Damn.
Damn, damn and double damn.
Why the hell had he said yes?
And then he opened his eyes and saw Gemma staring at him with a stricken look, and if there’d been any way out, he would have taken it.
But there wasn’t, and he wasn’t any more delighted than she was.
CHAPTER THREE
HOW on earth was she going to work with him?
She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d left the Smugglers’ on Wednesday night, and her heart hadn’t settled back into a normal rhythm since he’d been back in Penhally. But work with him, having to talk to him about patients, going into the staffroom and finding him sitting there and having to exchange polite conversation when all she wanted to do was turn back the clock and—
What? Not have married him? Not have spent that wonderful, idyllic time with him that fate had so savagely cut short? It would have been kinder, but not to have had that time—even the thought was unbearable. And anyway, she had married him, and for the last nearly eleven years he’d hated her, and then suddenly, because he’d taken the locum job, they were going to be thrust together and she couldn’t understand why he’d agreed.
She hadn’t slept all night for thinking about it, and now she was in the crowded staffroom perched on the edge of Lauren’s chair with Chloe balanced on the other arm, and all the doctors and reception staff were crowded onto the other seats or clustered round the tea and coffee pots as they waited.
And then Nick strode in, followed by Sam, and she felt his eyes on her instantly.
‘Morning, everyone!’ Nick said, smiling broadly and rubbing his hands together. ‘I’m sorry about the early start, but I wanted to introduce our new locum Sam Cavendish to you. I know some of you will recognise him—Lauren, Chloe, you were probably at school with him—but I’d just like to run through everyone and their jobs, to help you find your feet, Sam. Now, from left to right, Gemma Johnson and Lara Mercer are our practice nurses—Gemma, I know you met many years ago.’
Met? Met? Gemma nearly laughed out loud, but the tears were too close to the surface to let go that much. And Nick was still talking.
‘Hazel’s now our practice manager but I don’t know if you’ve met Sue Gunnell, our head receptionist, then Kate Althorp you remember—she and Chloe are midwives, Rebecca Grey is one of our district nurses, and Lauren, as you know, is our resident physio.
‘As for the medical team, we’ve got Adam Donnelly, who’s another local you may remember, Dragan Lovak who’s off sick today, Oliver Fawkner, and Gabriel Devereux who’s on loan from France and who we’ve just persuaded to stay. And that’s pretty much us. Sam, do you want to introduce yourself?’
The handshaking over, Sam grunted softly and looked around. ‘Yeah, hi, everyone,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘I do know quite a few of you, certainly by sight, and I wish I could say it was good to be back, but you’ll all know my mother’s had a stroke and that’s why I’m here, so I’ve agreed to fill in for Lucy just until my mother’s recovered, and then I’ll be going back to my real job, so for those of you who’re having heart failure at the thought of a Cavendish having anything to do with your nearest and dearest, relax. I’ll be out of here just the moment I can. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help, so please, just ask.’
It was said with a smile, and it was greeted with a warm ripple of laughter, but it made Gemma’s heart ache. Why was he so sure he wasn’t welcome, when it was clear to her, looking around at them, that they were all more than happy to have him back in the fold?
Well, almost all. She couldn’t count herself in their number, but her reservations were entirely different, and had things not been the way they were, her life, and Sam’s, would have been very different too. But at least she had a life, and if he decided to stay, if in the long term his mother’s problems were resolved and he was here by choice, then maybe then she might be able talk to him, tell him why—
‘Could I just mention something?’ Kate Althorp said. ‘I know Sam’s stepped in, and we’re all very grateful because it means the doctors will have less to do and so Nick might not be so crabby all the time…’
They all laughed—even Nick, she noticed—and then she went on, ‘It’s become apparent, talking to the mums, that losing Lucy—or more specifically losing our only woman doctor—wasn’t universally welcomed, because many of them would rather see a woman for some of the problems that they encounter. Now, Sam is only going to be here for a short while if everything with Linda progresses well, and for her sake I hope it does, but I’ve heard on the grapevine that Polly Carrick is looking for a change of direction and may be looking for a job—some of you may remember her, very quiet, soft-spoken, nice girl. She used to be Polly Searle. Lauren, she’s a little younger than you.’
‘I remember her,’ Sam said. ‘She had her nose in a book all the time—we met at a few careers things for wannabe doctors, and I was surprised at that. She was so quiet—tiny little thing. Bit of a mouse, really.’
‘That’s her. Well, she’s a GP now, in London, but as I say, she might be on the move. And, yes, she is my goddaughter, but she’s also a wonderful doctor—and a woman, of course. She’s a fantastic listener, and I think she’d be brilliant. Just a thought to drop into the mix, if we find ourselves in a position to employ another doctor at any time. And I don’t even know at this stage if she’d be interested, but I think we should consider the issue of having a female doctor on staff very seriously.’
Nick straightened, obviously keen to get on. ‘Right. Thank you for that, Kate. We’ll bear her in mind. OK, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to welcome Sam again and I’m sure you’ll find that everyone does what they can to make you feel at home. If it helps, I’m sure someone’ll take you under their wing for the day to show you the ropes. Gabriel, perhaps, if you wouldn’t mind? And now I’m going to sort out the barbeque or we’ll all be eating raw sausages tomorrow. You can get me on my mobile if you need me. Kate?’
The meeting broke up, Kate raising her eyebrows and following Nick with a resigned look on her face, and then as Gemma stood, she found herself hard up against a solid and still achingly familiar body.
‘Sorry. I was just coming over to talk to you,’ Sam murmured, stepping back hastily, but she could hardly hear him for the roaring in her ears and the thundering of her heart.
‘That’s fine. Sorry. Um—so what did you want?’
‘A quiet word?’
Damn. She didn’t want a quiet word with Sam. She didn’t want any words with him—unless they were words that would take her back into his arms, and she d
idn’t think those words had ever been invented…
‘Not now. I’ve got a clinic.’
He followed her to the door of her room and stood just inside it, his voice low. ‘I’m not going to hold you up. I just wanted to say that I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I don’t want to make things difficult for you and I’ll keep out of your way as much as possible. It’s not for long, and nobody knows about us, not really, so I’d like to keep it that way. Less complicated all round.’
And God knows, there are enough complications, she thought sadly. ‘Sure,’ she said, swallowing and wishing he’d leave her alone, and then there was a tap on the door and Gabriel came and rescued her, taking Sam off to his consulting room on the ground floor to shadow him for the day and leaving her in peace to start her clinic.
‘Right, I’ve spoken to Mike Trevellyan and he’s going to deliver the meat tomorrow morning, and they’re also donating some ice cream and the vending cart for the day. Have you sorted out the rolls and sauces and so on?’
Kate gave a quiet sigh at Nick’s typical need to micromanage everything. ‘Yes. The supermarket’s delivering everything in the morning, and lots of people have volunteered to bring salads and side dishes, so all we have to do is fire up the barbeque and we’re done.’
‘Excellent. I’ve got to pick the oil drums up from Ben and Lucy’s barn, and we need charcoal. Shall I do that?’
‘If you’ve got time. Your car’s bigger than mine. And we need the tables picked up from the church hall, while you’re at it. There’ll be someone there from three.’
Kate watched Nick as he jotted down a note to himself, and then when he looked up, she said carefully, ‘Do you think it’s wise, asking Sam to do the locum job?’
Nick looked startled. ‘Well, of course it’s wise! For God’s sake, Kate, if I can’t have a bit of faith in the lad, who can? I’ve known him all his life—’
Caroline Anderson, Anne Fraser, Kate Hardy, Margaret McDonagh Page 4