Jonathan gave his head a little shake as if to banish whatever thoughts were troubling him. He picked up tickets Mark had left on the desk when he’d first arrived.
‘You fancy going to a football match?’ he asked. ‘Mark left some tickets for the Arsenal game next Saturday. I would go, but I already have tickets for the one-day International at Lords. I like football, but next to cricket…’ He grinned. ‘No competition, I’m afraid.’
‘No, thanks,’ she said regretfully, thinking of her father. ‘Although you have no idea how much I’d like to accept. My Dad and I used to go all the time before I left home. He hates missing all the matches. He’s been an Arsenal fan all his life.’
‘Then give the tickets to him,’ Jonathan said, thrusting them in her direction. ‘They’re for a box. He’ll get a grand view.’
Rose wished she could accept on behalf of her father. It would be just the tonic he needed to lift his spirits. But getting him up and down flights of steps was more than she and her mother could manage.
‘I wish he could go,’ she said softly.
‘So take him,’ Jonathan persisted.
Rose turned away so Jonathan wouldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes. ‘He had a stroke about two weeks ago. He lost the use of his left side. He doesn’t go out much any more. He hates the indignity of being seen out in public, and even if he didn’t, until I get a new car that can take his wheelchair, he’s pretty much trapped at home.’
Jonathan took a long look at her. Then he grinned and his eyes glittered. Rose’s stomach flipped. ‘You probably don’t know this, but my family motto is Where there’s a will there’s a way. Actually, it’s not, it’s something far grander, but it means the same thing.’
Before Rose could ask him what he meant, his next patient arrived and Jonathan led him into his room.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Miss Fairweather told Rose. ‘I really wish I was giving you better news.’
The room swayed as a wave of nausea hit Rose. She had known that there was a good chance the news would be bad, but she hadn’t allowed herself to believe it. Now her worst fears were being realised. She did have an aneurysm.
Gathering her courage, she sat up straight in the hard backed chair and looked the young consultant in the eye.
‘Okay, so what are my options?’
‘You have two choices. You do nothing, and decide to live with the aneurysm.’
‘Which would mean what exactly? Please, Doctor, don’t mince your words. I need to know exactly what I’m facing.’
Miss Fairweather leaned forward. ‘It is possible that you could live the rest of your life without the aneurysm bursting, but if it does, and there is no way of predicting how likely that would be, you could have a stroke and depending on the severity, you could be left with a number of physical problems—loss of speech, the use of your legs, or…’
‘Or I could drop down dead,’ Rose finished for her. ‘Suddenly and without warning. Mmm, doesn’t sound like much of a choice to me. What are my other options?’
‘You can have an operation to remove it. Unfortunately there are a number of risks associated with the procedure too.’
‘Such as?’ Rose gripped her hands together to stop them shaking. Her mind flicked to her parents. They’d be devastated. She was their only child and knowing her father he would blame himself for passing on the genetic condition to his much-loved daughter. The same thing that had caused his stroke. How long had he been living with the time bomb inside his head? How long had she? She pushed the thoughts of her parents away. There would be time enough later to think about them. Once she had all the facts. Once she knew what she was going to do.
‘Death, stroke. The complications of surgery aren’t too different from the results should your aneurysm burst, I’m afraid. The problem is where your aneurysm is. The location makes the surgery riskier than usual.’
‘Not a great choice, then.’ Rose smiled wryly at the consultant. She had asked for her to be straight with her.
‘On the other hand, if we manage to remove it through surgery, there is a good chance you could live to a ripe old age, have children, do everything you hoped for before this.’
‘And if I don’t? What then?’ Rose knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from Miss Fairweather. Maybe she had misunderstood what she had read about the condition on the internet.
‘I’m sorry. You wouldn’t be able to risk having children. It would put too great a strain on the blood vessels inside your brain. Otherwise, the risks are as I outlined earlier. But you don’t have to decide straight away. You should go away and discuss it with your parents and boyfriend. Have a think. Make sure you understand the risks of both options. However, I wouldn’t leave it too long. If you do decide to have the operation, the sooner you have it the better.’
Ten minutes later, Rose was outside the hospital. Although summer was supposed to be on its way, the wind still had a wintry feel to it. Wrapping her coat tightly around her, Rose stumbled to a bench and finally let the tears that had been clogging her throat for the last half an hour fall. She could die. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in ten years, maybe twenty. Miss Fairweather admitted that there was no way of telling. How could she live the rest of her life not knowing if every minute was going to be her last? On the other hand, if she had the operation Miss Fairweather had suggested, she could still die. Or be left paralysed, in a wheelchair—or worse. That prospect didn’t have much going for it either. In fact, the thought was even worse than death. At least that would come quickly. The thought of a slow death, having to be looked after by her elderly parents, was infinitely worse. Being dependent on anyone didn’t bear thinking about.
She blew her nose loudly. Behind her she could hear the sound of a baby crying. She had never imagined that she might not be able to have children one day. Never hold a child in her arms. Maybe never again go for a walk in the rain, watch an evening sky change colour as night approached. Never learn how to ski, or speak Spanish. All the things she had told herself she had plenty of time for. Perhaps it was just as well that she had never met anyone she cared enough about to marry. What should she tell her parents? Nothing. Not yet. They had enough on their plates right now with Dad’s stroke without having to worry about her.
So there would be no more tears. No self-pity. She would do as Miss Fairweather had suggested. She would think long and hard about what to do. In the meantime she’d treat every minute of her life as if it were her last. No more hiding away. No more not doing something because it was too expensive, or scary, or any of the hundred reasons she had given herself in the past. From now on, she would say yes to every experience life had to offer. From now on, she would make the most of every second she had left.
During the long nights that followed her appointment with Miss Fairweather, Rose tossed and turned, trying to decide what to do. In the end, she decided she couldn’t have the operation. What if it went wrong? And she ended up like her father, or worse? How would her mother cope with two invalids? Besides, if her father hadn’t had a stroke, she would never have known about the ticking time bomb inside her head. She would have carried on living her life the way she was doing now.
In the small dark lonely hours of the night, she had tried to draw up a list of things she wanted to do before…well, before it was too late, but had given up on the list when she’d come to number fifty and scored it through. Instead, she promised herself she would try and live each day as best she could, taking any opportunities that came her way. She still couldn’t get her head around the fact she could die any time. She felt so healthy and life had never seemed so painfully precious and filled with promise.
Chapter Four
JONATHAN habitually asked her if she wanted to go to lunch with him, but she always refused. The first sunny lunchtime, she asked him if it would be okay if she took a little longer than her usual half-hour.
‘I’d like to take my lunch to the park,’ she said. ‘It’s such a beautiful day and I could
really do with some exercise. Jenny will be fine on her own for an hour.’
‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll come with you. There’s a deli on the way, I could pick up something to eat from there. It will make a change from the stodge they serve up in my club. God, it reminds me of school dinners.’
Rose was taken aback, but she could hardly refuse. ‘You can share mine, if you like. My mother always insists on making my lunch and she puts enough in to feed an army. I think she worries I don’t eat enough.’ Rose laughed. ‘I eat like a horse, I just don’t seem to put on any weight.’
Jonathan’s eyes slid over her and she felt her cheeks flush under his gaze. She pulled her cardigan around her. What on earth had possessed her to say that? And as far as offering to share her lunch, she had the distinct impression Jonathan wasn’t used to having egg and cress sandwiches or whatever her mother had packed for her. Didn’t people like him have caviar or some other such stuff for snacks?
‘Come on, then, if you’re sure you’ve enough. We’ll pick up a couple of coffees on the way.’
As they walked Rose felt inexplicably tongue-tied. It was different when they were working. Somehow, without patients to discuss, it was different.
After picking up their coffees they found a bench looking over a small lake. The good weather had brought out mothers and children, or was it their nannies? There were also a number of people strolling or jogging. Rose handed Jonathan a sandwich and lifted her face to the sun.
‘Have you lived in London long?’ he asked between mouthfuls.
‘I was brought up here. My parents have lived in the same house all my life. I went away to university. Edinburgh, actually. I have an aunt who lives there so I was able to stay with her. It helped keep the cost down. What about you?’
‘I boarded at Gordonstoun. I was almost six when my father sent me there. I studied medicine at Cambridge.’
Rose had heard of Gordonstoun. She knew it was a famous and very expensive school in the north of Scotland where many of the rich sent their children. She had also heard that the regime was very tough.
‘Isn’t that where Prince Charles went?’
‘Yes. But long before my time.’
‘How awful to be sent away to school when you were so young. Weren’t you terribly homesick?’
Jonathan turned to her, looking surprised. He really did have the most amazing eyes, Rose thought. Dark green, and ringed with an even darker shade. He had the kind of eyes that made her feel he could see right into her soul.
‘You know, I never really thought about it. It was just something that happened. I suppose the first few years were hard. I missed my home. But all the other boys were in the same situation. And there were the holidays—at least, some of the holidays. My father was away a lot, so I stayed with schoolfriends most of the time.’ His eyes darkened and he looked away into the distance as if he found the memory unpleasant.
‘I don’t think I could ever send my child away. Especially at that age,’ Rose said thoughtfully. ‘But I guess your parents must have had their reasons. Would you send your child?’
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. If it were possible, he looked even bleaker. Rose could have kicked herself. She had no right to question the way he had been brought up.
‘My child? You know, I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it. Children have never really figured in my plans for the future. Somehow I don’t ever see myself having them. They require commitment. And I’m not that kind of guy.’ He grinned. ‘Life is too full of possibilities to settle on one.’
Rose eyed him speculatively. Maybe when he met the right woman he would feel differently. Then again, maybe not. Somehow she couldn’t see Jonathan giving up the lifestyle he enjoyed for the restrictions a domestic life would inevitably bring.
‘I don’t think my mother would have sent me if it had been up to her. She died when I was five, and my father sent me away soon after the funeral,’ he continued after a moment.
Rose was shocked. How could a father send away a child who had just lost his mother? And not just down the road, but several hundred miles. An image of Jonathan as a little boy wearing long shorts and a peaked cap, standing alone outside the school while his father drove away, flashed through her mind and her heart twisted with sympathy for the little boy he’d been. What kind of man was his father if he could do that to his son? Rose thought if she ever met him, she would dislike him intensely. No wonder Jonathan seemed to have little faith in the joy children could bring. It was ironic: Jonathan didn’t want children, although he almost certainly could have them; and she wanted them, desperately, yet couldn’t have them. If she had been able to have children, she would never send them away. She would have kept them close to her, making the most of every precious moment with them. A wave of sadness washed over her. She forced her thoughts away. Thinking like that was pointless.
‘I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I can’t imagine what it was like for you. To lose your mother when you were so young and then be sent to boarding school.’
‘Don’t we all do things because we have to? I know duty is considered an old-fashioned concept, but you must believe in it too. You came back here to look after your father. You must have had a life in Edinburgh.’
Rose forced a smile. ‘Of course. But as you say, sometimes we have to do what is right rather than what we want. My parents needed me.’ She shrugged. ‘So I came. My life in Edinburgh can wait.’ If she had a life to live.
‘No boyfriend?’
‘No one serious.’ She wanted to change the subject. It was far better for her to keep her mind off her future—and the possibility she might not have one.
‘Why did you decide on medicine?’ she asked him, genuinely interested. From what she had gathered, Jonathan’s family was rich enough for there to be no need for him to work at all.
Jonathan smiled ruefully. ‘As I told you, my uncle was a doctor. He was apothecary to the Queen. He used to talk to me all the time about cases he had came across when he was still working in a hospital. I loved listening to him and I can hardly remember a time when I didn’t want to be a doctor. I needed to do something with my life. My father hoped I’d take over the family business, but it wasn’t for me.’
‘But Harley Street.’ Try as she would, Rose couldn’t quite keep the disapproval from her voice.
‘My uncle built up the practice. People liked coming to see the man who looks after the Queen’s health. You can’t get a better recommendation than that. I was going to set up a practice somewhere else, but then he became ill and wasn’t able to carry on. Back to duty, I guess.’ He took a gulp of his coffee. ‘I couldn’t let him down.’
‘You don’t miss real medicine, then?’
He looked at her, amusement making his eyes glint.
‘You know, even the rich and famous get ill. In the end, birth and wealth don’t prevent you from experiencing health problems. Like Mark, for example.’
Yes, she should know how arbitrary illness could be. Despite the warmth of the sun, she shivered.
He looked at his watch. ‘Speaking of which, I have to visit Lord Hilton this afternoon. You remember his wife coming in to see me on your first day? She has arthritis and he has terminal cancer. He really should be in hospital, but he refuses point blank. Says he has no intention of dying anywhere except the home he’s lived in all his life.’ Jonathan studied Rose thoughtfully. ‘How would you feel about coming too? If I remember correctly, she took a shine to you.’
‘Poor Lady Hilton. I had no idea. Yes, of course I’ll come. If you need me.’
What Rose didn’t know and what Jonathan neglected to tell her was that Lord and Lady Hilton lived a hundred miles from London and that they were sending their private helicopter to bring Jonathan to their country home. The helipad was a ten-minute drive from the surgery.
Rose had never been in a helicopter before, let alone one that had leather seats as wide as armchairs in the back.
‘You didn’t tell me we were
flying to our visit,’ she accused Jonathan when he pulled up at the helipad on the Thames.
His eyebrows quirked in the way she was beginning to know well. ‘You didn’t ask. About fifty per cent of my patients live outside London. In fact, they sometimes fly me out to see them when they’re on holiday. Wherever that might be.’
‘They don’t see someone locally? Surely that would be better?’
Jonathan gave her a half-smile. ‘I see you have a lot to learn, Rose Taylor. Most of my patients are so rich that is doesn’t occur to them not to fly their doctor out. In the same way that they’d fly out their hairdresser or stylist. They like to see the same physician.’ He shrugged. ‘And I don’t mind going. I’ve known some of my patients most of my life.’
It was a different world. One where Rose didn’t know the rules. But it was a job. As long as she got paid and as long as Jonathan’s patients didn’t suffer, who was she to judge? And, she had to admit, it was exciting to be part of it, even for a short time. She sucked in a breath as she remembered the promise she had made to herself. Live every day to the full. At least working with Jonathan was bringing new experiences and every minute was exciting. How much of the excitement was down to new experiences and how much was due to being in the company of the man sitting next to her, she didn’t want to think about.
Jonathan gave her a radio set to wear, partly to drown out the noise of the engine and partly so they could hear each other speak. Below her the river Thames cut its way through London. She could see Buckingham Palace and the Tower of London as well as the pods of the London Eye revolving slowly.
‘Have you been in it yet?’ Jonathan asked, pointing to London’s newest tourist attraction. ‘Sorry, silly question. Of course you have.’
Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby Page 6