‘She’s fine, I think. Doing really well, but you can tell me more once you’ve treated her. I take it you’re going to be doing her physio?’
‘I expect so. Are you going to hand her over to Rebecca for her continuing care, or are you going to pop in on your way home so you can give her more continuity?’
And see Sam. ‘I’ll see how she is, I think,’ Gemma said, trying hard to sound casual. ‘If she’s relatively stable, there won’t be much to do apart from regular INR checks for her anticoagulants, so Sam could take the bloods and bring them in. In fact, he could do all of it. He’s only here part time.’
‘So you don’t have to go there?’ Lauren said softly, and Gemma looked up swiftly and met her concerned eyes, teabag poised on the spoon, and then she turned back and threw the teabag in the bin, put milk in her tea and sat down.
‘Why wouldn’t I want to go there?’ she asked, and Lauren sighed gently.
‘OK, you don’t have to tell me, but if you need someone to talk to—I know Sam had a thing for you all those years ago.’
‘A thing?’ she said, trying to sound puzzled, but Lauren wasn’t stupid and she gave her friend a patient look.
‘The girls in his year were gutted, so it was hardly a secret, Gemma. And I saw your face on Friday. You were devastated when you saw his injuries, and if you ask me he was pretty devastated that you’d seen them. He wasn’t going to come after you, but then he asked my advice.’
‘And you told him to follow me?’
‘No. I told him to follow his heart. And then I was upstairs getting something from the treatment room and I saw him kiss you.’
‘That would have been right before he told me I’d made my bed and I should lie on it,’ she said with a trace of bitterness, and Lauren sucked in her breath and reached out a hand.
‘Gemma, I’m so sorry. It must be so difficult for you, working with him. Why on earth did he agree?’
She shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Because Nick’s very persuasive? Because he genuinely thought it would be all right?’
‘Or because he thought it would give you a chance to get to know each other again in a way that gives you both an opportunity to retreat without loss of face?’
She thought about that for a moment, but it didn’t seem to feel right. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t think it was that premeditated. And he didn’t look any more pleased than I felt, to be honest, so, no, I don’t think it was that, but I can’t for the life of me work out why—especially as Linda’s making such amazing progress. By Friday night, you’d hardly know she’d had a stroke on Tuesday. It’s incredible.’
‘I know. I’ve seen other people who’ve been treated there, and it’s fantastic what that rapid intervention with clot-busters does,’ Lauren agreed, and to Gemma’s relief the subject moved away from Linda—and, more specifically, from her elder son.
But only for now. She knew perfectly well that Lauren would be watching, and because she’d be treating Sam, too, and because patients having physical therapy often talked quite revealingly to their therapist, Lauren would probably hear more than Gemma wanted her to.
But it would be safe with her. Her friend wasn’t a gossip and, apart from her professionalism, she was the soul of kindness. She’d look after Sam, support and encourage him, and give him the help he needed to get his life back on track.
And if that meant that in the end he left Penhally again to return to Africa, Gemma would just have to accept it…
CHAPTER FIVE
‘JAMIE! Get up! You’ve got to be at school in twenty minutes, and I need to get Mum up and dressed before I go to work in half an hour, so I haven’t got time to drive you!’
‘For God’s sake, bro, chill! I’ll be fine.’
‘No, you’ll be late,’ Sam said, stripping off the quilt and hoisting Jamie out of bed one-handed. ‘Now get washed and dressed and get to school before you get suspended.’
‘I should be so lucky,’ he mumbled, but Sam wasn’t going to pick that one up in this lifetime, so he went downstairs and found his mother tangled in her bra.
‘Oh, Mum, let me help you with that,’ he said gently, and sorted her out, getting the straps in the right place and then hugging her as the tears of frustration filled her eyes. ‘Come on, you’re doing so well.’
‘It’s just all so unnecessary! If only it hadn’t happened…’
‘I know. But it did, and luckily Gemma was here.’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Sam, don’t hurt her.’
He stared at his mother in astonishment. ‘Me, hurt Gemma? Mum, she walked out on me!’
‘But she loves you, Sam. It’s so obvious.’
‘Not to me, it isn’t.’
‘Well, then, you’re blind, and you probably don’t deserve her. Come on, help me into that top and then you’d better go or you’ll be late for work.’
He waited until she was settled in her favourite chair opposite the window with a view over the harbour, and then he paused.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ he asked, still torn about leaving her, but she just smiled sadly.
‘I’ll have to be, Sam—and you’re not exactly far away. And I’ve got the phone and all I have to do is press 1 and I’ll get the surgery, so I’ll be fine, and I’ve got Digger for company. Go on—and take Jamie to school or he’ll be bunking off again.’
‘For heaven’s sake, he should just—’
‘Please, Sam. He’s in enough trouble.’
‘OK, I’ll take him. There are drinks in the fridge, and I’ll leave the back door unlocked so Lauren can get in. And don’t boil the kettle!’
‘No, darling,’ she said with a long-suffering smile, and he kissed her cheek, grabbed his keys, yelled for Jamie and started the car.
‘Linda?’
‘Gemma? Hello, sweetheart. How kind of you to drop in.’
‘Not at all, it’s always a pleasure to see you. I’m parched. Do you fancy a cup of tea?’
‘Oh, I’d love one! Sam won’t let me near the kettle at the moment, and I know fruit juice and water are good for you, but, oh, I do miss my tea!’
‘You’ll be telling me in a minute that he’s hidden all your chocolate,’ Gemma teased, and Linda rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t. Don’t even go there. He rations it. I don’t know where he keeps it, but I’m allowed one square a day, apparently. Too much saturated fat. And it has to be the dark stuff, like you said, or he won’t let me have it at all. He’s a tyrant.’
‘But you love him.’
‘And I’m not alone, am I?’ she said softly, and Gemma nearly dropped the teapot.
‘Linda, really—I don’t think—’
‘Don’t panic. He doesn’t see it, but if he’d only give you both a chance…’
‘Linda, he doesn’t like me.’
‘Sam? Of course he likes you. He’s just wary. Now, I don’t know what went on between you two, and it’s not my business, but he hasn’t been the same since you left. He’s like he was after his father went—defiant and defensive, but I thought he’d get over it—get over you, but he doesn’t seem to have done. So—don’t give up, Gemma. Please, don’t give up. Not without trying.’
‘Don’t give up what?’
‘Sam!’
This time she did drop the pot. It slipped through her fingers and hit the worktop, and only Sam’s hand flying out to steady it prevented an accident.
‘Guilty conscience?’ he murmured, and she turned and glared at him.
‘Not at all! You frightened the life out of me, sneaking up behind me like that!’
‘Sneaking? It’s my house! I’m allowed to walk in—and I didn’t sneak. I’m just not noisy.’
‘I didn’t hear your car.’
‘That’s because I could see yours here, so I left it at work and walked home in case there wasn’t room on the drive. I’ll go and pick it up later—take the dog out for a run. So is there tea in that pot, or are you just posing for effect?’
/> She nearly threw it at him.
‘Ron Reynolds is home.’
Sam was lounging in the doorway to her room the following afternoon, and Gemma looked up from her notes.
‘Is he? Good. How’s he doing?’
‘OK. It was an MI, so he’s another one on anticoagulants for your INR checks. They’ve done a balloon angioplasty apparently and he’s much improved. He’ll need checking on, but he should be all right to come here to your clinic.’
‘Well, if not I’ll ask Rebecca to do it. So how come he knew you? Because it sounds as though he did, quite well.’
Sam’s face was wry. ‘Oh, he did. He lived quite near us, and I guess he had quite a lot to put up with. I took their washing off the line one night and hung it in the top of the fir tree in the front garden. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for his daughter’s underwear. She was a bit of a goer, Amy Reynolds, and her underwear was a legend.’
Gemma laughed. ‘And were you familiar with the underwear before this occasion?’
He chuckled. ‘Sadly not—well, only from the washing line. We could see it from the top of the tree in the Tremaynes’ back garden next door. Jack, Ed and I used to go up there and try and spy on her through her bedroom window.’
‘Sam!’
‘What? We were about fourteen! We were just kids, Gemma. We didn’t know anything about sex then, really. It was just a bit of harmless fun.’
‘You weren’t so harmless when you were nineteen,’ she said rashly, and then could have bitten her tongue as he went still.
‘No. But that was different, Gemz. You were my wife.’
Gemz. He’d only ever called her that when they were alone. She looked away, her mind flooded with memories. Intimate memories, of the time they’d spent together. His touch, his soft, coaxing voice, his gentleness—his passion, finally unleashed and exquisitely shocking in its awesome power to thrill her. She swallowed hard. ‘Sam, I—’
‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘It’s in the past, Gemma. Let’s just leave it there. I have to get on. I’ll see you.’
And shrugging away from the doorpost, he crossed the landing and went down the stairs, and she listened to his limp and wanted to cry for everything they’d lost and the fact that there just didn’t seem to be any way back.
Damn.
He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t think about anything other than Gemma, about how she’d felt in his arms, how much fun they’d had, the laughter they’d shared, and how it had felt to hold her long into the night, just talking about anything and everything.
He couldn’t remember anything they’d not been able to talk about, and yet now—now every conversation seemed to lead back to them, and the fact that they’d split up, and it was like a minefield. And he knew, from bitter personal experience, just how dangerous they could be.
But he couldn’t stay away from her, couldn’t ignore her. Couldn’t, despite his best efforts, manage to keep away. And at the bottom of his heart, hidden low down behind all the disillusion and pain, was a gut feeling that there was something going on, something he hadn’t known about—something she was keeping from him. So maybe she was right. Maybe what they needed to do was try again, see if they could make a go of it this time—and maybe now she’d trust him enough to share whatever it was that had taken her away from him.
No. He felt himself recoiling from the idea, curiously unwilling to disturb the status quo, the unstable truce they seemed to have established. Perhaps to try and pick up their relationship where they’d left off was too much, too soon—but what if they wound the clock back further, maybe, to when they’d met? Pretended they’d just met now, that they were strangers and they were attracted to each other and they were just starting out?
Would it work? Give them a chance to get to know the people they were now, and see if there was any way forward from there?
He didn’t know, but he was going to give it a damn good try, because his time back in Penhally had proved to him, above all else, that he couldn’t live without her. Not live. He could exist, as he’d been existing for the last eleven years. But live? No. Not without his beloved Gemz.
So he’d suggest they start from scratch, as if they’d just met. Strangers. It could be interesting. Fun. And maybe…
All he had to do was talk her into it. Whistling softly, he left his consulting room and ran upstairs and tapped on her door, but it was opened by Lara Mercer, the other practice nurse.
‘Ah. Is Gemma here, Lara?’
‘No, sorry Sam, she’s gone home. She said something about dropping in on your mother on the way, but that was half an hour ago.’
‘Right. OK, thanks.’
‘Is there a message?’
‘No. No message.’ At least, not one he’d leave with anyone.
He drove home, wondering if she’d still be there, and she was, so he pulled in behind her—to stop her getting away? Maybe. Then he went inside, calling as he did to avoid the possibility of her accusing him of sneaking up on her.
She was just leaving, picking up her bag and keys, and he wondered if she’d seen his car pull up and decided to get out of his way. He couldn’t blame her if she did, because every encounter seemed to peel another layer off their defences.
‘Could you move your car for me, Sam?’ she asked, not quite looking at him, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
‘Can we have a chat first?’
She looked at him, searching his face for clues. ‘What about?’
He gave a crooked, slightly uncertain smile that tipped her heart off kilter. ‘Oh, this and that. Can we take the dog and go up to the headland? He could do with a little run.’
She hesitated, but then Linda came out into the kitchen and kissed Sam on the cheek. ‘Hello, darling. I’m just going to have a lie-down for a few minutes. It’s been a long day. Call me when you get back from your walk.’
So there was no excuse she could give him, no way she could suggest that his mother needed him, not while she was sleeping.
She nodded. ‘All right,’ she agreed, but her heart was pounding and she didn’t know what he was going to say. Probably nothing. She was being silly, it was probably about Linda or work or telling her he was going back to Africa.
He picked up the lead and Digger was there, coiled ready for action, and he clipped it on, opened the door and ushered her out.
‘Well?’ she asked, unable to bear the suspense any longer. They were up on the headland; they’d walked up Harbour Road to the church at the top of the rise with its pretty lychgate, and now they were heading down to the lighthouse on the end of the promontory, above the cliff. And she couldn’t bear it any more.
‘Can we sit down?’ he suggested, and she looked at the grass. It had been sunny all day, it might be dry enough. And they’d often sat on the headland and talked.
‘Sure,’ she said, and watched as he lowered himself carefully to the ground and stretched his left leg out in front of him, bending the other one up and wrapping his arms around his knee.
‘Sam?’ she prompted when he still showed no signs of speaking, but even then he didn’t say anything or look at her, just stared out over the sea while Digger sniffed around his feet and finally lay down. And, like the dog, she resigned herself to waiting patiently until he was ready.
‘I was wondering,’ he began at last. ‘We can’t turn the clock back, it just doesn’t work. We can’t pick up where we left off, not really, and as you said, we were just kids then. We’re adults now, different people. Different things have happened to us, to shape us, strengthen us—change us. And you’re right, we don’t know each other. So why don’t we start again? Right from the very beginning, back before we ever met, as if we don’t know each other, have no history, nothing to beat each other to death with. Just two people, with common career interests, getting to know each other.’
She stared at him, because of all the things she’d expected him to come out with, that wasn’t one of them.
And odd though it sounded, maybe it could work.
She felt a glimmer of excitement, a flicker of hope. She moistened her lips, took a deep breath and started.
‘OK. So—I’m Gemma. I’m a nurse, as you know, and I work in the surgery here, as you know, and I’m twenty-nine, and I’m sort of single—well—am I?’ she asked, and he turned his head and smiled a little wryly.
‘Yes,’ he murmured, his voice low and slightly gruff. ‘Yes, you are.’
‘OK,’ she said, suddenly feeling a little less confident because she hadn’t ever thought of herself as single in all this time, more as—a wife on ice? ‘So, I’m single, and I like children and animals, and daytime TV when I get a chance, and I read crime fiction and biographies, and I like swimming in the sea but I can’t surf to save my life, and I love walking on the moors. How about you?’
He gave her a funny little smile that made her heart turn over again, and said, ‘I’m Sam, I’m thirty, I’m a doctor, and I’m covering for an old childhood friend until her replacement can be found, and I’ve been working in Africa for an aid agency but I did something stupid and got myself blown up, which is why I walk with a limp and can’t feel much in my left hand and why—why I’ve got some pretty horrible scars.
‘And my mother’s not very well, but because you did your job and checked on her even though you were off duty she’s going to be fine, and I’m really grateful, and I’d like to get to know you better. And I’m single, I suppose, but there was a girl a long time ago who broke my heart, so I’m a little wary.’
That made her eyes fill and her heart twist with anguish, and she bit her lip as he went on, ‘I love swimming in the sea, and I used to be able to surf but I’d probably fall over now because of my leg, and I read thrillers and crime fiction and car magazines, and I used to ride a motorbike but I can’t any longer, but I still love walking on the moors, even though my ankle’s not too keen on it. And I have two younger sisters, both married with children, both living fairly near but not apparently near enough to be of much help to my mother, and I have a younger brother who’s off the rails a bit but basically a good kid.’
Caroline Anderson, Anne Fraser, Kate Hardy, Margaret McDonagh Page 7