She gritted her teeth and pulled her phone from her tunic, turning it to face him. ‘You—and your apparent potential bride—are all over social media since the early hours, after falling out of some club together. And yes. Esther’s seen it. Which is why I doubt very much she’ll answer any of your calls.’ Oona shook her head. ‘You really couldn’t have timed this any worse.’
Dread swept over him. The headline above the photo of him and Penelope was bad enough. Will Penelope Brackenridge Be the New Duchess of Montrose?
But the photo certainly didn’t help. It looked...kind of compromising, even from his gaze. It didn’t matter that he knew what had happened. It didn’t matter that he knew there was absolutely nothing in it. He knew exactly what the press were like. And his heart sunk at the thought of Esther being confronted with this last night in the midst of the bad news from back home.
He straightened his back and looked Oona straight in the eye. ‘That picture is not what you think. Penelope is my friend, has been since we were five. She phoned me last night when she felt threatened. I picked her up and took her home.’ Anger was rising in him. He didn’t need to give Oona an explanation of his behaviour, but he wanted to—for Esther’s sake. At least Oona had been up front with him; now he knew exactly what was going on and why Esther hadn’t answered his calls. He turned to walk away. He had things to sort; he needed to find cover for today, and probably tomorrow too. Then he’d need to try and find a flight.
His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back around. It was like every little light had taken fire in his brain at once. He could explain this to Esther, of course he could. But more than that, he wanted to be by her side. She’d be devastated over what had happened back in Scotland and he didn’t want her to go through that alone. She shouldn’t have to, and she didn’t need to.
He turned back to Oona. ‘Just so you know, I would do it again—in a heartbeat—for any friend, male or female, who told me they felt unsafe.’ Then his expression softened. ‘And why on earth would anyone think that I’d cheat on Esther—the woman that I love?’
He watched as Oona’s eyes widened as he stepped out of the office and picked up the phone. He had no surgeries scheduled in the next few days, but a couple of babies who would require surgery when delivered. He made sure his contact details were available for the responsible hospitals as he knew that even with the best-laid plans, babies sometimes had ideas of their own.
Francesca appeared at his side. ‘You okay?’
‘No,’ he said honestly. ‘But I will be.’
She didn’t ask questions, just gave his arm a squeeze. ‘You know you can leave any instructions with me.’
He pulled his notes from a pad. ‘And I was just doing that.’ He gave her a hug. ‘Thank you for this, and phone me if there’s anything at all.’
She nodded slowly and pressed her lips together. ‘I’ll try my best not to.’
He wasn’t worried about the hushed atmosphere around him now. Oona would spread the news in his absence, and gossip like this would fly through the hospital like a firework.
He’d just declared his love for Esther.
He hadn’t even known until that second that he was going to say those words.
But right now, he needed to tell them to the person who mattered most.
And that was exactly what he planned to do.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE COULD ALMOST swear that her heart hadn’t stopped racing in her chest until that moment that she finally saw her mother lying in the hospital bed and rushed over to wrap her arms around her.
Finally, she could breathe.
She was here. She was alive.
It didn’t matter that her mother was lying in a hospital bed with crisp white sheets, or that she was wearing a pale blue hospital gown. As Esther encompassed her in a hug, all she could smell was the smoke. It clung to her mother’s hair and skin, with even a smudge of something on her cheek.
Esther tried to hold back her tears. It wouldn’t do for her mum to see her so upset. She sat at the edge of the bed—ignoring all the rules that said she shouldn’t—and took both of her mum’s hands.
‘I am so glad you’re safe. What happened?’
Her mum didn’t speak for a few moments. ‘I’m not sure. I was in bed. I think it might have been the washing machine. That’s what the fire officer said. One minute I was sleeping, and the next the place was full of smoke.’ Her voice was trembling now. ‘I just grabbed my slippers and dressing gown and ran down the stairs.’ She shook her head. ‘My bag was sitting on the table near the front door so I grabbed it too on my way out.’ Her eyes were filled with tears. ‘I couldn’t even go near the sitting room.’ She shivered. ‘The heat coming out of there was too much.’
Esther couldn’t hide the fact that she was shaking too. She’d seen too much in A&E, saw the impact of house fires. Helped when trying to resuscitate adults and children who’d been overcome by smoke. Knowing that one of those people could have been her mother was just too much.
She hugged her again tightly. ‘Oh, I’m so glad you woke up. I’m so glad you ran.’
Her mother bowed her head, holding on tight to her. Esther knew her mum was just as glad to see her. She must have got such a fright last night. ‘You didn’t need to come all this way,’ her mum whispered. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re so busy. And you’ve got so much to do. You shouldn’t need to worry about me.’
Esther put her hand on her mother’s cheek. ‘I’ll always worry about you. You’re my number one priority.’
Her mother’s voice stayed low. ‘But you shouldn’t be doing that. You should be out living your own life, having fun.’
Something twisted inside Esther. She didn’t like the way this conversation was going. She knew her mother too well.
When she was stressed about something, she tried to find a way to say words without actually having to say them. Just like she was doing now.
She’d already told her mum that she was dating someone—she just hadn’t filled in all the blanks. But it didn’t feel like this was where this was going.
‘What is it, Mum? Just tell me.’
Her mum’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I don’t think you’ll be able to stay in the house. There’ll be too much damage. Gladys says you can stay with her tonight.’
‘Don’t worry about me. Let me sort things out. I’ll arrange to get the house cleaned up, and the place assessed. I’ll contact the insurers. Just you rest. Worry about getting better. Let me worry about everything else.’
* * *
Harry had only been standing outside the small fire-damaged house for a few minutes when one of the neighbours approached. ‘Are you looking for Mrs McDonald?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘And Esther—I’m looking for her daughter too.’
The woman glanced back at the house and shuddered. ‘Come with me. Esther will be staying at mine tonight. I’m sure she’ll be back once she’s done with visiting at the hospital. Let me make you some tea.’
He’d barely blinked before a large teapot appeared, along with an eclectic array of mugs and a plate of biscuits and thick wedges of fruit loaf.
‘I’m Gladys,’ the woman said, sitting at the other side of the table. She gave Harry the eye, in the way that a woman of a certain age only could. ‘Are you Esther’s young man?’
He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that one. He wanted to be. He wanted to be more than her young man, but until he’d spoken to Esther it didn’t seem fair to introduce himself that way.
He stretched his hand across the table. ‘I’m Harry, Esther’s friend. We work together.’
Gladys’s eyebrows lifted. ‘From what I hear, that’s the only way to see Esther these days.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘She works very hard.’
Gladys opened her mouth as if she were about to say something
else, then stopped, giving a simple nod. ‘She does.’
The doorbell rang and Esther walked through the door. ‘Harry.’ She stood frozen in shock. She looked tired out, her skin pale and her eyes dark.
Her gaze flitted between Harry and Gladys. ‘How...?’
‘Here.’ Gladys jumped up. ‘Have some tea. You look like you need it. I need to pop to the corner shop. So now that you’re back, I’ll leave you and Harry for five minutes.’
Within a few seconds Gladys was gone but Esther still stood frozen on the spot. Harry stood up and stepped over. He tentatively lifted an arm to put around her shoulders but stopped as she flinched.
‘Don’t touch me.’ She thudded her bag down on the table. ‘And what on earth are you doing here?’ Angry tears were flooding her eyes and he hated that this was his fault.
‘Nothing happened. You must know that, Esther.’
‘Really? All I know is that you told me you were spending the night in bed when you were actually falling out of a club in London with Penelope!’ Her words cut in before he had a chance to add anything.
Her hands were on the table, her body leaning over towards him, and he could see her whole body was shaking.
‘How’s your mum?’
‘What?’ She seemed taken aback by his question. Then she stopped and took a breath. ‘My mum is okay. Smoke inhalation. Because of her frailty, they’ve kept her in. She’ll get reassessed tomorrow.’
She sagged down onto the chair behind her and he poured her some tea. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to rush in with, but this wasn’t about him. It was about her.
Her hands were still trembling as she picked up the mug. ‘Tea.’ She grimaced.
‘I didn’t like to ask Gladys if she had any coffee,’ he added, but his light-hearted tone seemed off.
She didn’t even look at him. Just closed her eyes and leaned her head on one hand. ‘I can’t even see the house until later when the fire chief comes back. I don’t even know if anything is salvageable—if the house is even salvageable.’
Every part of him ached for her. He took a breath, knowing how these words might sound. ‘It’s only a house, Esther. You’ve still got your mum and she’s doing okay.’
She sobbed into her hand. ‘I know that. I know that. When I got to the hospital I just remembered every patient I’ve ever treated who’d been involved in a house fire. I couldn’t even breathe just thinking about it.’
He winced. He knew exactly what she meant. The way that smoke lingered in the air of the department after they’d been treated. The horrible charcoal-like smell of burning skin. It was one of the hardest things to deal with, and for Esther to think that might have been her mum...
He stood back up and walked around the table, this time not giving her opportunity to flinch. This time just pulling her up to him and hugging her to his chest.
She didn’t fight it. She just slowly wrapped her arms around his waist and stayed there. He wasn’t sure how long they stood. Much longer than the five minutes that Gladys said she’d be.
When she finally pulled her face back from his chest she just shook her head. ‘What are you doing here, Harry? Why did you come?’
The furrows in her brow were deep and her eyes littered with confusion.
‘Why do you think I came? I came because I love you, Esther, and I didn’t want you to be alone.’
Her muscles tensed and she stepped back, holding out her hands.
‘But that picture. The lies you told me...’
‘No. I told you the truth. I was in my bed. But Penelope phoned and she was in trouble. She’d gone out with someone who’d made her feel threatened. She was drunk and asked if I’d come and get her.’
Esther blinked, no words coming out. ‘What?’ It was barely a whisper.
He bent down towards her. ‘You know there’s nothing between Penelope and me. It’s just not like that. I love her like a sister, and in a way, I wish she was, at least then I’d have a family that was worth caring about.’
She stepped back and sat back down. When she looked at him again with those big blue eyes he sensed something from her. It was time for truths.
She put her hands on the table. ‘Are you going to tell me about your father? Your parents?’
He spoke honestly. It was the only way he could do this. ‘I was part of a family that my sole purpose was to be the heir. There was really no other requirement. Neither of my parents was interested in having a child. They just saw it as their duty.’
Esther just looked confused. ‘Who looked after you at home? What about school holidays? Surely you spent some time with them? They spent all your time ignoring you?’ She was shaking her head as if she really couldn’t get her head around it.
He stayed patient for a moment. Then took a deep breath. ‘Esther, you seem like a girl who spent her childhood surrounded by love. It was normal for you. It wasn’t normal for me.’ He put his hand to his chest. ‘I thought what I had was normal. I thought it was normal to have parents who didn’t look at you when you entered the room. Who didn’t care how you were, or how you felt. I spent my life being brought up by an ever-changing rota of nannies. Most of them left before I ever really got to know them. There was one maid who worked in my parents’ house for seven years—she was the only person who ever laughed and joked with me. I went to boarding school. I rarely saw other kids interact with their parents, so I thought that what I had was entirely normal.’ He felt his own voice start to break, so he stopped talking.
Esther sat with her eyes wide. As if she were taking everything in and processing it.
Harry breathed again. He was here to tell her that he loved her. He wanted her to move in with him. To take a chance on him. He had to let her know exactly what she was getting.
He tightened his grip on her hand. ‘But I’m not crazy. I know that is ridiculous. But everything about my relationship with them—my parents—coloured every part of my life. It’s hard to learn to love, to share with someone, when you’ve never had an example of that to learn from. I didn’t see it every day. That’s why you’re so important to me, Esther.’ He looked over and met her blue gaze. ‘You’re the first person I’ve met that I’ve found it easy to love.’
Her mug clattered against the table. He’d said it three times now. Once to Oona, and twice to Esther. She seemed to be listening, but was she hearing?
Her fingers tightened around the mug. ‘Why?’
He gave a slow nod. She wanted to know it all. ‘Because you never asked me for anything. You didn’t want me for anything.’ He gave a gentle smile. ‘You didn’t even like me to begin with. Then I started being around you. I could see the relationship you had with your patients and their families. I could see how you worked hard in amongst your colleagues. And you could adapt, you could work anywhere—’ his gaze met hers ‘—because you felt you had to.’
‘And that makes me easy to love?’
‘Sure it does. Because it’s all about how big your heart is, and how much you love. Your only agenda is looking after your mum. Making sure she’s okay.’ He paused for a second, wondering if he should actually say these words out loud.
‘And the worst part is that even though I know they ignored me, I spent years witnessing it. Deep down, I still wanted them to love me. When my father dropped dead, I realised that was it. It was all over. There would never be any kind of shot at redemption. I’d never get to sit at the side of my dying father’s bed and listen to him apologise for how he’d treated me, and tell me that he did actually love me. I shut all those thoughts and possibilities out.’
‘Oh, Harry, why?’ She sounded incredulous.
‘Because I wanted to be loved. I wanted to feel worthy of being loved. I wanted parents who would be proud of me. Just like your parents did. People look at me and think, He’s rich, he’s got everything. But I nev
er had an iota of what you had. I’ve spent my life keeping my distance from people. Not letting my guard down. Because letting your guard down means you can get hurt.’ His voice broke a little. ‘And you’re the only person I’ve felt able to do that with. I love watching what you have with your mum. The two of you are as close as can be. You talk all the time. You have pictures of your mum, and dad, all around your flat. And in those pictures? You’re all in each other’s arms, wrapped around each other.’ He paused again, his voice hoarse. ‘You’ve no idea how much I wish I’d had the same normal as you. And up until now, I’ve never admitted that. Not to anyone. Not even to myself.’
She blinked, her eyes wet, and as soon as he saw that he immediately wanted to take back all the parts of himself he’d exposed.
He straightened in his chair. ‘I was never abused. I was never cold, never hungry. I didn’t want for anything, really, apart from love and somebody to show some interest in me.’
‘That doesn’t make it right,’ she said bluntly. ‘We see the worst of some families in the health service. Being fed, clothed and having a roof over your head doesn’t mean you didn’t suffer from neglect. That sounds exactly like what happened.’ She moved from her chair at the other side of the table over next to him. Her gentle floral scent following her across the room. It was all he could do not to breathe in and inhale it strongly.
‘You swept me up in a fairy tale,’ she said, the edges of her voice a little sad. ‘I wasn’t looking for a prince, or a duke, but I found one anyway.’
His hands moved to her waist. ‘And is that good, or bad?’
‘Both,’ she said without qualm as she sat down in his lap. ‘You know, you’re making assumptions. I have an almost great relationship with my mother, but it’s not perfect. Not the way you think. Do you know she didn’t tell me straight away about the cancer?’
‘What?’ Harry was surprised.
She shook her head sadly. ‘She didn’t tell me straight away because she didn’t want me to worry, about her, and the fact she couldn’t manage to work any more. She didn’t want to put the responsibility on to me. I was really hurt when I found out.’ She stopped for a second and swallowed. ‘But I understood she did it out of love.’
Cinderella and the Surgeon Page 15