The Nurse's Wedding Rescue

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘I’m sixty-six,’ he wheezed. ‘Been married for forty-two years and we’ve always had a good—well, we’ve always enjoyed—’

  ‘Sex?’ Helen’s voice was calm. ‘Has it become a problem, Mr Marks?’

  He slumped in his chair and ran a hand over his face. ‘I can’t believe I’m discussing it with you. You’re younger than my daughter.’

  ‘But I’m also a professional who cares about your health,’ Helen reminded him, ‘and sexuality is part of health. If it’s any consolation, plenty of patients have discussed exactly the same issue with me. It’s very common, particularly in patients who are suffering from respiratory conditions like you.’

  He looked at her. ‘You’ve talked to other patients about this?’

  ‘Absolutely. In London there are specialist nurses who deal with this area.’

  He gave an embarrassed smile. ‘When you get to my age you assume that people think you don’t have sex any more.’

  ‘Sex is an important part of a relationship,’ Helen said quietly. ‘Do you want to tell me exactly what the problem is?’

  He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Well, I just run out of energy. And I suppose I’m frightened because I get breathless.’

  ‘Do you leave your oxygen on when you make love?’

  He frowned and shook his head. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘It would probably help if you did. Do you ever go for walks?’

  ‘Sometimes, but I always use my puffer before exercise and that seems to do the trick.’

  Helen nodded. ‘Treat making love as you would any other exercise,’ she advised. ‘Have a puff of your bronchodilator before and keep the oxygen on. Have a rest before you make love and it might be wise to avoid alcohol because that can actually inhibit sexual arousal.’

  ‘What about the fact that I get breathless? It scares the wife.’

  ‘Shortness of breath while you’re making love is entirely normal,’ Helen said simply. ‘As long as you are feeling OK you shouldn’t worry about it.’

  ‘The wife thinks I’m going to drop dead.’

  ‘Then you can assure her that sudden death during intercourse is extremely uncommon.’ Helen reached for her diary and a piece of paper. ‘There’s a really good leaflet that outlines some sexual positions which help you conserve energy. I used to have a few in the place where I worked last but if you call this number they can send you a copy. In the meantime, this is what I suggest.’

  She talked frankly for a few minutes more and then Howard rose to his feet and gave her a grateful smile.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough. I feel a lot better.’

  ‘Good.’ Helen stood up and walked him to the door. ‘Anytime you have any worries just pop back and see me.’

  And then she remembered that the chances were she wouldn’t be here.

  Her life was in London.

  She buzzed for her next patient, a frown on her face.

  If she was honest with herself she was enjoying this small community where everyone knew about everyone else.

  And she was enjoying working with Oliver.

  She sucked in a breath and stared out of the window, her eyes on the snow-covered fells that he loved so much.

  It was still troubling her that she was becoming so obsessed with Oliver when only a few weeks before she’d been making preparations to spend the rest of her life with David.

  It was just self-preservation, she assured herself, pulling herself together as her next patient tapped on her door. David had rejected her so brutally that it was perfectly natural for her to respond when an attractive man flirted with her.

  And Oliver wasn’t serious. She knew he couldn’t be serious.

  He’d only known her for just over a week.

  That afternoon she finished work on time and went and collected Hilda from her cottage.

  ‘I just want to show you something,’ she said, waiting while Hilda picked up her coat and bag. ‘And, anyway, it’ll be fun to get out and have some fresh air. I’ve been stuck in a surgery surrounded by germs all morning.’

  Hilda smiled. ‘I see Dr Hunter has leant you his four-by-four.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Helen grinned and opened the passenger door for her. ‘Although why he trusts us girls with it, I have no idea.’

  Hilda laughed and climbed into the vehicle with some discreet help from Helen. ‘I suppose this is the point where you tell me you used to be a racing driver.’

  ‘Would you mind if I was?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Hilda fastened her seat-belt. ‘To be honest, I’m in the market for some excitement.’

  ‘Well, you can relax. I’m not that confident with his car yet,’ Helen confessed ruefully, pulling out and setting off towards the town. ‘So we’ll have to seek our excitement in other directions.’

  ‘So how are you settling down, dear?’

  ‘Very well. Everyone is very kind.’

  Hilda glanced across at her. ‘And you’re living with Dr Hunter…’

  Helen blushed. ‘We’re both staying in his sister’s house. I wouldn’t exactly say I’m living with him.’

  ‘Sounds as though you’re living with him to me,’ Hilda said placidly, reaching down and picking up her bag. ‘And a good thing, too. We’ve all waited a long time to see Oliver find the right woman.’

  Helen gave a soft gasp. ‘Hilda, I’m not the right woman.’

  ‘Judging from the way he was looking at you when he brought you to my house that first weekend, I think he might have a different opinion on that subject.’

  Helen shook her head. ‘I’ve known him for less than two weeks.’

  ‘I fell in love with my husband in two minutes,’ Hilda said wistfully, pulling a tissue out of her bag and blowing her nose. ‘And he was the same. When you know, you know.’

  ‘I probably ought to tell you that until very recently I was engaged to another man.’ Helen tightened her fingers on the steering-wheel, wondering why she was disclosing intimate details of her private life to a patient. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this…’

  ‘Why not? It does me good to hear about other peoples’ lives,’ Hilda said calmly. ‘Stops me brooding on my own problems. So what happened?’

  ‘He ended it the day before the wedding. He phoned from the airport as he was about to board a plane.’ For the first time since it had happened, Helen was able to assess David’s behaviour objectively. ‘What a rat.’

  ‘A coward of the worse kind,’ Hilda agreed fervently, ‘but he did you a favour, dear. Whatever pain you might be feeling now, it’s nothing compared to waking up every day next to a man you don’t love. And there’s no way a sweet girl like you could have been in love with a man who could behave like that.’

  ‘I thought I was.’

  ‘Everyone can make a mistake.’ Hilda peered curiously out of the window. ‘I’ve never been down this road before. Where are we?’

  ‘If you turn right at the end of the road you end up at the edge of the lake. It’s very pretty. And the flat has lovely views of the lake from the sitting room and the main bedroom.’

  Hilda looked at her. ‘What flat?’

  ‘The flat I’m taking you to see.’ Helen bit her lip nervously. ‘Please, don’t make a judgement until you’ve seen it. Oliver thinks you won’t want to leave the home you lived in with Barry all your life, but I think that home is full of memories for you. Some good, some too painful to live with on a daily basis. I wondered whether you might want to think about a fresh start. Make some new memories somewhere else. And this is a pretty good place to do it. Will you at least look at it?’

  There was a long silence while Hilda stared out of the window and then she stirred herself. ‘Of course I’ll look at it.’

  Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Helen switched off the engine.

  The warden was waiting for them and Hilda gave a huge smile. ‘Well, it’s Cathy Janson. How are you, my dear?’

  ‘Brilliant.’ Cathy gave the older woman a hug
and jangled some keys. ‘I didn’t realise that it was you who was interested in the flat. It would be fantastic having you living here.’

  Helen glanced from one to the other. ‘Obviously you know each other.’

  ‘I was the headmistress of the local primary school,’ Hilda told her with a wistful smile. ‘I taught Cathy. It was a long time ago. She always wore her hair in pigtails then.’

  Cathy smiled. ‘Come and see the flat.’

  She unlocked the door for them and Hilda went first, walking straight to the huge picture window that overlooked the lake. Several boats were moored at a tiny jetty and even though it was bitterly cold, people were strolling along the path that weaved its way along the side of the lake. Behind the lake the mountains rose, filling the background.

  ‘What an amazing view.’ Finally Hilda moved, glancing around her with obvious approval. ‘And what a lovely warm room. There are times when I think I’m going to freeze to death in my cottage at the moment. The wind seems to howl through every crack. Show me the rest.’

  By the time they’d looked around and sat in the living room while Hilda stared at the view, an hour had passed.

  Cathy stood up. ‘I’m going to have to leave you because I’m picking my Nicky up from school. Just post the keys back through my letter-box when you’ve finished.’ She put a hand on Hilda’s shoulder. ‘I was so sorry to hear about Barry.’

  Hilda let out a breath. ‘Life sends us trials and we have to face them. For a while I didn’t think I could. But now I think this might be the answer. Change. Something new.’

  Cathy and Helen exchanged looks and Cathy made for the door. ‘I’ll be hearing from you, then.’

  The door closed behind her and Hilda stirred. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For daring to suggest what no one else would. The home that I’ve lived in all my life just doesn’t feel like home now that Barry isn’t in it with me. If I move here, I can walk the short distance to town, I can chat to Cathy and help pick her daughter up from school. And when it’s too cold to go out I can still watch life from this amazing window.’

  Helen smiled, a huge feeling of relief washing over her. ‘So you want it?’

  ‘Definitely. How hard will it be to arrange everything?’

  ‘Well, you’ll need to sell your house.’

  ‘That will be easy enough. The couple next door have been dying to buy it for years. They want to knock the two cottages into one big house. I’ll talk to them when I get home. And I’ll call Cathy. My son can help me with the details.’

  A week later, Hilda had made an offer on the flat and instructed her solicitor to sell her cottage to the couple next door.

  On Friday evening Oliver cooked Helen dinner and they cracked open a bottle of wine.

  ‘In three weeks you seem to have sorted out the whole community.’ Oliver raised his glass, an odd smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘I couldn’t believe that Anna actually came back to see you.’

  ‘Twice, actually. In each case complete with diary and peak-flow readings,’ Helen said happily, recalling her discussion with the teenager. ‘And, more importantly, she’s got a date tomorrow.’

  ‘A date?’ Oliver blinked. ‘How do you know about her love life?’

  ‘Because her love life is actually an important key to her asthma management,’ Helen said simply. ‘She didn’t want the boy to know she was asthmatic. Anyway, she told him yesterday and it turns out that his sister is asthmatic so suddenly everything is rosy. She’s going clubbing with him and she even brought her outfit to show me and we found a great place to tuck her inhaler.’

  Oliver shook his head. ‘You amaze me.’ His eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘Although I have to confess that someone did warn me that you are the local expert on sexual positions.’

  Helen blushed but she held his gaze. ‘My conversations with my patients are confidential.’

  ‘They should be,’ Oliver agreed dryly, topping up her wine, ‘but I have to warn you that it often doesn’t stay that way in a small community. According to Howard Marks, you’re a cross between Florence Nightingale and—’

  ‘I don’t think I want to hear the rest,’ Helen interrupted him hastily, her cheeks still pink. ‘I just gave him some advice. He didn’t want to talk to you because he’s known you since you were in nappies. But clearly he didn’t mind talking about it afterwards.’

  Oliver grinned. ‘Man talk. You know how it is.’

  Helen rolled her eyes. ‘Spare me.’

  Oliver’s smile faded. ‘And thank you for what you’ve done for Hilda. You wouldn’t believe how many sleepless nights I’ve had over her. I’ve known her all my life and it just didn’t occur to me that she’d want to move. What made you think of it?’

  Helen pushed a piece of salmon around her plate. ‘The way I feel about moving here, I suppose. When a place is full of memories, it’s good to leave it.’

  Oliver’s blue eyes searched hers. ‘So does that mean that you’re throwing away your stilettos and staying here?’

  In another week Bryony would be back from her honeymoon and Oliver’s practice nurse would be back from Australia.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Helen pulled a face. ‘I don’t even want to think about it, to be honest. I love it here so much.’ She poked her salmon with her fork. ‘This is starting to feel like home. I like the people. I like the way their priorities are different.’

  ‘So stay.’

  She sighed. ‘It isn’t that simple, is it?’

  ‘Why not?’

  She poked her salmon again. ‘Because it feels like running away.’ She pulled a face. ‘I mean, I know that’s exactly what I’ve done, but sooner or later I have to go home and face the music.’

  ‘Why? Life can be enough of an endurance test without making it worse.’ Oliver frowned. ‘And what has that salmon ever done to you? You’ve chopped it into pieces.’

  Helen put down her fork and stared at the food on her plate. ‘I’m not that hungry.’ She looked at him. ‘It’s funny really. I always had a very clear vision of the way my life would be…’

  ‘And how was that?’ Oliver lounged back in his chair and she gave a slight shrug.

  ‘Big house, lots of entertaining, children…’

  Oliver gave a twisted smile. ‘The corporate wife.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘And was that your vision or your parents’?’

  Helen looked at him, startled. It was a question she’d never asked herself before. ‘I suppose I was brought up to think that my life would be like my mother’s.’

  ‘So who made the decision to marry David?’ Oliver asked evenly. ‘You or your parents?’

  Helen frowned. ‘Me, of course.’

  Oliver’s expression didn’t flicker. ‘How did you meet him?’

  ‘He worked for my dad.’

  Oliver gave a wry smile. ‘And he was deemed a suitable partner for the boss’s daughter?’

  Helen flushed. ‘Something like that. But I liked David.’

  ‘But you don’t marry someone because you like them,’ Oliver said softly, leaning forward and trapping her eyes with his. ‘You marry them because you love them. Did you love him, Helen?’

  There was a long silence and she was suddenly aware of the steady beat of her heart and the heat in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She swallowed hard. ‘A week ago I would have answered definitely yes, of course I would. If I hadn’t loved him, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ Oliver’s gaze was steady on hers. ‘You’re a sweet girl, Helen. It strikes me that you spend a lot of time doing things for other people. Who were you marrying David for? You or your parents?’

  She shook her head. Suddenly the only things she could think about were his unbelievably thick, dark lashes and the lazy, sexy look in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was barely a whisper and he gave a soft curse and pushed his chair away from the t
able.

  ‘Oliver?’

  He strode around to her side and dragged her to her feet, his mouth descending on hers with a fierce passion that took her by surprise.

  She melted instantly, loving the feel of his hard body against hers, this time without the frustrating barrier of outdoor clothing.

  As kisses went, this one was crazy, a desperate, driven explosion of sexual chemistry that was stronger than both of them.

  ‘You’re driving me nuts,’ Oliver groaned against her mouth, one strong hand sliding into the softness of her hair, anchoring her head for his kiss. The other arm dragged her closer still, trapping her against the hardness of his arousal. ‘Living and working with you is driving me nuts.’

  She gasped and pressed closer still and he slid her uniform up her thighs and lifted her in an easy movement, his mouth still on hers as he sat her on the table. Then he slid both hands over her bottom and tugged her close so that her legs were wrapped around him.

  He gave a moan of pure masculine appreciation and reluctantly dragged his mouth away from hers, but only so that he could kiss his way down her neck.

  ‘Have I ever told you that you have fabulous legs?’ His voice was husky with passion and his strong hands slid purposefully up her thighs, caressing the smooth skin with deliberate strokes, ‘because you have totally, amazing legs—I love your legs.’

  ‘Oliver…’

  His mouth smothered her broken plea for satisfaction and she felt the burning heat of his body against hers, felt the warm seduction of his lips and tongue, the skilled touch of his hands. With a moan of frustration she tugged his shirt out of his trousers and her hands slid underneath, exploring warm, male flesh and hard muscle. He had an incredible physique. Suddenly she wanted to feel all of him and she didn’t resist when she felt his fingers impatiently freeing the buttons on her dress.

  When his fingers slid beneath her flimsy bra and claimed a nipple she gave a tortured gasp and arched against him, feeling the insistent throb of his arousal pressed hard against her, and when he bent his head and replaced his fingers with his mouth she sobbed with a mixture of pleasure and arousal.

  Bells rang in her head, loud and insistent, and it was only when Oliver lifted his head with a reluctant groan that she realised that it was the phone.