‘Hi, there!’ He raised one hand in greeting and walked to the car. ‘You can drive right in,’ he said, bending his head in order to speak to Kate through the open window. ‘Park alongside the red car.’ He looked cool in spite of the heat in shorts and T-shirt, while his hair looked wet, as if he’d just come from the shower or maybe taken a dip in the pool.
Kate nodded and drove through the gates and onto the drive, which swept round to the left. She finally came to a halt beside the red four-wheel-drive, as Tom had instructed her. She switched off the engine and sat for a moment with her arms resting on the steering-wheel. On the other side of the red car was the Mercedes convertible Tom usually drove to work.
‘Come on, Mum.’ Siobhan had already scrambled from the car.
More slowly Connor followed her. ‘Wow,’ he said softly, gazing at the Mercedes, ‘look at that!’
Kate pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head and, climbing from the car, stood for a moment and looked at the house. It was a large, double-storey building, its walls whitewashed and its roof tiled in terracotta tiles. Red-leafed ivy climbed up one wall and trailed across the front entrance, while on either side of the black front door a pair of stone lions stood sentinel.
By this time Tom had walked back up the drive and joined them. ‘Welcome to Kingfishers,’ he said simply. ‘Come inside and, please, make yourselves at home.’ As he spoke he took the bag containing their swimwear, which Kate had taken from the boot of her car, and carried it to the house, pushing open the front door then standing back for Kate and the children to precede him.
They entered a wide, almost square hallway, its floor tiled in black and coral tiles, its walls half panelled with wood, half painted a soft colour that was not quite white, though neither was it cream. ‘Come through,’ he said, leading the way through the hall into a sitting room furnished with dark antique furniture and two huge crimson sofas. French doors led into a large sunroom with comfortable-looking cane furniture which in turn opened onto a terrace. ‘Joe and Francesca are in the pool,’ he added.
Kate was aware of bright sunlight, of a fan that whirred overhead, of blue and coral mosaic tiles on the floor and then, as she stepped onto the terrace, of the bright sparking blue of the pool, of white wrought-iron tables and chairs, of the high beech hedge which enclosed the pool on two sides and of Joe and Francesca as they waved to them from the water.
Francesca immediately swam to the steps and climbed out of the pool, her dark hair and her pink bikini streaming with water as she grabbed a towel and padded across to greet them. ‘Hi!’ she said. ‘We’re so pleased you could come. Come with me, Siobhan, and I’ll show you where you can change. You go with Joe, Connor,’ she said over her shoulder as Joe also climbed out of the pool.
As the children sorted themselves out, Tom turned to Kate. ‘Are you desperate for a swim?’ he asked. ‘Or would you prefer something to drink first?’
‘A drink would be nice,’ she said. ‘This weather makes me thirsty.’
‘What would you like? I was thinking of making some Pimms.’
‘That would be lovely.’ She smiled. Maybe, she thought, a drink would help to relax her. She was still feeling if not exactly uneasy then rather nervous, as if somehow she shouldn’t be here in Tom’s house. Which was ridiculous really because it wasn’t as if she’d invited herself. He had, after all, asked them here. She wasn’t, however, under any illusions that he was doing this for her—this was plainly and simply for the children. No doubt Francesca or possibly Joe had been as insistent over a follow-up meeting as Siobhan had been, and Kate herself knew only too well how wearing that could be.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’ He disappeared back into the house and Kate stepped back into the sunroom where she sat down gingerly in one of the cane armchairs, then felt herself sink into the soft cushions. Maybe, she thought as she looked around her, this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. It certainly beat trying to clear the flower borders of weeds. A few moments later the children reappeared, Francesca and Joe still wet from the pool in towelling robes, Siobhan in the turquoise swimsuit which was a perfect foil for her hair and Connor in his dark green trunks.
Within seconds they were all in the water, splashing and shouting with laughter, and as Connor began to streak up and down the pool and the others watched in admiration, Kate felt herself relax a little more.
‘That’s a fine crawl stroke your son has there.’
Kate looked up quickly and found that, unbeknown to her, Tom had come back into the sun lounge. He was standing beside her, a tray and glasses in his hands, as he, too, watched Connor.
‘Yes,’ she agreed with quiet pride. ‘Connor loves his swimming. Liam taught them both to swim when they were little more than toddlers,’ she added.
He took the glasses of Pimms from the tray and set them down on the table then sat down himself in another of the cane chairs. Lifting his glass, he said, ‘A toast, I think?’
‘Yes?’ She lifted her own glass and waited, wondering what he would say.
‘To new friendships,’ he said.
Surprised, she allowed her gaze to meet his. Then she echoed his sentiment. ‘Yes,’ she said, and surprisingly found she meant it. ‘To new friendships.’
She took a sip—it was delicious—and then set her glass down again. What had he meant by new friendships? Had he meant just the children? Or had he meant themselves? Because, if he had, wasn’t that a little strange? After all, they already knew each other, they’d known each other for years, worked together for a long time. But that was as colleagues. This, what he was talking about now, was friendship and maybe the two were very different. On the other hand, perhaps he meant family friendship—all of them, both families as friends. Yes, that was what he must mean, she told herself as she picked up her glass again and took a second sip.
‘Tell me about this gardening that I’ve dragged you away from,’ he said.
Kate stared at him. She’d become so lost in her thoughts that she’d hardly heard what he’d said. ‘Gardening?’ she said stupidly.
‘Yes.’ He smiled and settled back in his chair. ‘When I phoned you said you were gardening.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said quickly, ‘I was. I was trying to clear a couple of borders that have become hopelessly overgrown with weeds.’
‘They soon get the upper hand,’ he agreed. ‘Do you have a large garden?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘Well, it’s not all mine actually—most of it belongs to my aunt. We live in part of her house,’ she added when she saw his questioning look.
‘Hence you being out of breath after climbing the stairs to answer the phone?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes, quite.’ Kate smiled. ‘We have the top two floors of the house—it’s a large house,’ she added. ‘My aunt has the ground floor, or the garden flat as she likes to call it.’ She was silent for a moment, the only sound in the sun lounge that of the overhead fan and, from outside, the cries of the children in the pool. When Tom also remained silent, she said at last, ‘My aunt invited us to move there after Liam died.’
‘And has it worked out?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ Kate said, ‘for all of us really. For my aunt because she was finding the house too much for her, and for us because I was finding life a bit of a financial struggle. And what with trying to arrange child care…’ She trailed off, afraid she was boring him with such mundane details.
‘It must have been a nightmare for you,’ he said quietly.
‘I suppose it was at the time,’ she agreed. ‘Being a single parent is no joke, whatever the circumstances. But, then, you would also know all about that.’
‘My situation is a little different,’ he said, and Kate found herself thinking it was very different. Not for Tim the juggling of finances or the anxiety of arranging child care.
‘My main problem was that I missed them so much,’ he said simply.
Kate stared at him. Th
is wasn’t at all what she had expected to hear and quite suddenly her heart went out to him. Maybe Aunt Bessie had been right when she’d said wealth and position really didn’t count for very much at all. ‘Could you not have won custody?’ she asked uncertainly. She didn’t know the details of his divorce, only what hospital gossip had said, and that was that his wife had left him.
‘Maybe.’ He shrugged and Kate wondered if she’d gone too far in raising the subject. ‘But if I’d done that their mother would have missed them,’ he said after a moment.
‘Well, yes…but…’
‘And they would have missed her,’ he added, not giving her a chance to finish. ‘I didn’t want them to be pawns or weapons in any divorce proceedings and I knew if I fought for custody it could have all become very distressing for everyone concerned, not least the children.’
‘That sounds very generous of you,’ said Kate slowly.
‘Not entirely.’ A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘On a practical level it was easier for them to live with their mother. The nature of my work means I would have had to employ some sort of live-in carer for the children—at the time we parted Joe was only nine and Francesca seven, so the most logical solution seemed to be for them to live with their mother. I also happen to believe that young children should be with their mothers anyway.’
‘Their mother didn’t have to work?’ asked Kate.
‘No.’ He took another mouthful of his drink, and as he leaned forward to set the glass down again Kate noticed a small pulse that throbbed at the corner of his jaw, almost as if it stressed him to talk about the break-up of his marriage. ‘She didn’t have to work. She was able to be at home with the children whenever they needed her.’
‘She’s fortunate,’ said Kate. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without Aunt Bessie. I had real battles with Siobhan about having someone to look after her. She was adamant she didn’t want anyone, but both she and Connor were too young to be left on their own. For a time after Liam died I used to drop them off at Aunt Bessie’s on my way to work, or they would go there after school when I was on a late shift. I must say, life has been much easier since we moved there. It means there is always someone in the house when they get home from school, or even if they’ve just been out somewhere.’
‘You weren’t worried about letting your own home go?’
‘Not really—you see, under the terms of Aunt Bessie’s will I’m her main beneficiary so I was able to give up the struggle to find the mortgage repayments without too many qualms.’
‘I’m glad that side of things, at least, has worked out for you,’ he said.
They were silent for a moment, Kate wondering whether in her nervousness she had divulged too much about herself or simply chattered about things which could have had no interest whatsoever to her host. ‘Did you move after your divorce?’ she asked in sudden desperation that she hadn’t appeared interested in him, then immediately wondered if in talking of his divorce she had overstepped the mark. ‘Or was this…’ helplessly she glanced around her as she spoke ‘…your family home?’
‘No,’ he replied, ‘we didn’t live here.’
Suddenly she was glad—she didn’t know why, but she was—glad that this lovely house hadn’t been the scene of the break-up of his marriage.
‘I bought this house a couple of years ago,’ he volunteered. ‘A friend told me it had come onto the market, I came to look at it and that was that—I knew instantly I wanted to live here.’
‘It’s a beautiful house,’ she said, looking back as she spoke into the spacious sitting room.
‘Really, it’s too big for me,’ he admitted, ‘but I wanted somewhere that the children could come to and think of as their second home.’ Draining his glass, he looked across at Kate. ‘Are you ready for a swim yet?’ he said.
‘Yes, that sounds a lovely idea.’ Kate stood up.
‘Come with me and I’ll show you where you can change.’
She followed him as he led the way from the sun lounge into a room with a shower cubicle and a dressing area with a pink marbled washbasin and a vanity unit.
‘There are plenty of towels,’ he said indicating a pile of brightly coloured beach towels. ‘I’ll see you outside when you’ve changed.’
After he’d gone Kate changed from the long cotton dress she was wearing into a red one-piece swimsuit and a matching cotton sarong, which she tied around her waist. Suddenly she felt self-conscious about walking out to the pool area with Tom and his children watching her. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her in a swimsuit. But that was silly, she told herself. Tom wouldn’t be looking at her, at least not in that way. His only interest in asking them to his home lay in providing company for his children. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the shower room and back into the sun lounge. Through the glass she could see that Tom had joined the children in the pool. They were all playing with a large coloured ball amidst much splashing, shouting and shrieks of laughter.
Connor spotted her first as she stood in the open doorway of the sun lounge. ‘Come on, Mum,’ he called. ‘It’s brilliant in here.’
With that Tom also turned. He didn’t speak, just looked at her, and for a moment as Kate walked towards the pool, untying her sarong as she went and letting it drop to the ground, she saw an expression in his eyes that she had never seen there before. It was an expression she’d seen many times in Liam’s eyes—one of admiration, appreciation maybe. But with Liam it had always been tempered with love and that certainly couldn’t be the case with Tom. But there was definitely admiration there, she hadn’t imagined that. It gave her the confidence she needed, the confidence she had found lacking. Holding her head high, she turned gracefully and climbed down the steps into the pool, shuddering slightly as the water crept up her body. Turning, with a few long, slow strokes she swam to the centre of the pool to join the others.
In no time at all she was drawn into the game and for the next half-hour the ‘girls’ fought the ‘boys’ for possession of the ball and the scoring of goals at either end of the pool. The fun became fast and furious and it did Kate good to hear her children enjoying themselves so much. And when at one point she caught Tom’s eye she had the distinct impression he was feeling the same about his own children.
When at last the allotted time was up it was Joe who proclaimed triumph for the ‘boys’ team. ‘We won!’ he cried. ‘We won!’
‘Only just,’ Siobhan declared.
‘We’ll beat you next time,’ cried Francesca.
‘We’ll have to watch out next time, then,’ said Tom with a laugh. He looked happy and relaxed in the water with his dark hair wet and spiky, so much so that Kate had to remind herself that this was the same serious-faced man who strode the corridors of Maternity in his white coat or presided so efficiently in Theatre in greens and mask. And here he was, in effect, agreeing to a repeat performance. How she would ever explain any of this to Natalie without her jumping to conclusions, Kate had no idea.
While the children scrambled out of the pool and grabbed towels, Kate took advantage of the almost empty expanse of water and completed a few lengths before flipping over onto her back and floating lazily, lifting her face to the sun.
‘It isn’t only your son who is a strong swimmer.’ Kate opened her eyes and found Tom looking down at her.
‘I’ve always loved swimming and it was something we always did—as a family,’ she added.
‘You mean your own childhood family or with Liam and your children?’
‘Both, really.’ It seemed strange, hearing Liam’s name on Tom’s lips, but not awkward, quite natural, in fact. Treading water, she ran her hands over her hair, slicking it back behind her ears.
‘I’m going to get dressed,’ he said, ‘and start barbequing some food, but you stay—enjoy the water, make the most of the pool while it’s empty.’
It was her turn to watch him as he climbed out of the pool. He was tall and well built with powerful thigh an
d shoulder muscles. His skin was lightly tanned and the light covering of hair on his chest, arms and legs was dark. Liam had been very different. His body hair had been reddish gold and he had been stockier than Tom. But why was she comparing them? She frowned. She’d never done that before, so why now? Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen anyone without their clothes recently—and certainly not another man.
Yes, that was it, she thought, the reason for this comparison—what else could it be? She struck out and completed another two lengths of the pool before climbing out and enfolding herself in one of the thick coloured towels.
By the time she’d dressed and made her way back to the terrace, Tom, now in jeans and T-shirt, had begun barbequing while the two girls were carrying salads, bread and cans of fizzy drinks to two of the wrought-iron tables, which had been pushed together to form one large eating area.
‘Hi, there!’ Tom waved a pair of cooking tongs at her. ‘Did you find everything you needed?’
‘Oh, yes, thanks. Can I help?’ She looked at the girls. ‘Where’s Connor?’ she asked.
‘He’s playing a computer game with Joe,’ Siobhan replied, raising her eyes.
‘It’s OK,’ said Francesca lightly. ‘They will be clearing up afterwards—they don’t know it yet, but that’s the way it works in this house.’
‘That’s exactly how it should be,’ Kate agreed, ‘so, like I said, what can I do?’
‘I haven’t cut up all the salad yet,’ said Francesca. ‘There are tomatoes and peppers on the side in the kitchen.’
‘I’ll find them.’ Kate made her way back into the house and through to a spacious, lavishly equipped kitchen where she found and prepared the remainder of the salads.
Lunch was as relaxed an affair as the rest of the day, with them all sitting around the large table on the terrace and enjoying the steaks, chicken, sausages and burgers that Tom had cooked. When it was over, the boys dutifully cleared away and stacked the dishwasher before disappearing once more to their computer games. The girls had long since taken themselves off to Francesca’s bedroom, no doubt to discuss clothes, pop music and boys, and anything else that young girls discussed.
A Very Special Surgeon Page 5