‘Oh, Nat,’ said Kate, ‘it’s not that I don’t want to tell you anything…’
‘No?’
‘It’s just that I’m afraid to say too much. It’s very early days yet and I feel I may be tempting fate somehow. You see, I’m so happy at the moment. It’s been such a long time since…well, since Liam, and if I’m honest there’s a part of me that can’t quite believe it…that feels it won’t last.’
‘But why shouldn’t it last?’ Natalie frowned.
‘I don’t know.’ Kate shook her head. ‘It’s just so good and I suppose that I’m afraid that anything that good simply can’t last.’
‘Are you in love with him, Kate?’ Natalie’s voice was serious now with none of the teasing tone of earlier.
‘I think I must be,’ Kate replied at last, ‘if being in love means your heart turning over whenever you catch sight of someone, if it means counting the minutes to when you can be together again, never mind the hours or the days, and if it means thinking of that someone every moment you are apart.’
‘That’s love,’ said Natalie flatly.
They were silent for a while, Natalie apparently enjoying her ciabatta and Kate staring at hers and reflecting on what Natalie had just said. She had suspected she was falling headlong in love with Tom, but hearing Natalie confirm her symptoms was another thing altogether. Everything she had told Natalie was true—she did count the minutes until she could see him again, and since those few short hours when they had made love at his house Tom had been there in every waking thought. At night, he had dominated her dreams.
‘Is there a reason for your caution?’ asked Natalie at last, breaking the silence between them.
‘Oh, Nat, I don’t know.’ Kate had been toying with her food, chasing it round her plate with a fork. Now she abandoned it completely and looked up. ‘I just have this awful feeling sometimes that it can’t last.’
‘Well, now, let’s think about this and see if we can’t get rid of these fears,’ said Natalie philosophically. ‘He’s free, isn’t he?’
‘Yes…’ The pause was only minimal. ‘He’s divorced.’
‘So that’s not a problem, it’s legal. What about the kids?’
‘They seem more than happy with the situation.’ Kate reflected. ‘At least, Siobhan was rather protective of Liam’s memory which, I suppose, is quite understandable, but even she seems to have got over that now. I also think she may have a bit of a crush on Joe.’
‘Tom’s son?’
‘Yes.’ Kate nodded. ‘He’s a really nice lad and I can quite see why Siobhan is smitten, although on the other hand she’s far too young.’
‘Too young?’ Natalie stopped chewing and stared at her then gave a snort of derision. ‘Oh, come on, Kate, you’ve got a short memory. What about when we were at school and we both had a crush on that boy in the sixth form—what was his name?’
‘Gavin Coombes?’ said Kate.
‘Yes, that was him!’ Natalie gave a hoot, which attracted the attention of other diners. ‘Gavin Coombes! We were absolutely besotted by him. You had his initials carved all over your pencil case and I wrote his name all the way up my arm in indelible ink and it wouldn’t come off and I got a detention. We couldn’t have been any older than Siobhan is now.’
‘No, maybe not.’ Kate sighed then smiled as the memories of those far-off days flooded back. ‘It’s just,’ she went on after a moment, ‘that they seem so knowing these days about sex and contraception, but underneath they are still children.’ She paused and threw Natalie a glance. ‘You just wait until your Sophie is that age, you’ll know what I mean then.’
‘Don’t.’ Natalie gave a little shudder. ‘Barrie says his greatest fear is that one day he’ll see Sophie spread across the centre pages of some glossy men’s magazine.’ She paused then said, ‘So that’s Siobhan, who’s happy with the situation, and presumably Joe, unless, of course, like many males, he’s oblivious to all this adoration.’
‘No, I get the impression he knows,’ said Kate dryly.
‘Like you say,’ Natalie sniffed, ‘more knowing these days. I doubt Gavin Coombes ever knew about us, and if he did he wouldn’t have known what to do about it.’
‘And if he had we would probably have run a mile,’ Kate observed. ‘I can’t see Siobhan running a mile.’ She gave a sigh.
‘What about Connor?’
‘Well, you know Connor. He’s so laid back that he takes most things in his stride. Provided he has his computer and he gets to go swimming, he seems happy.’
‘What about with Tom?’
‘He responded well to him. In fact, the day we went to Tom’s house and played in the pool Connor was in his element.’
‘Family life.’ Natalie nodded. ‘It’s what he misses now—having a man around.’
‘I know…’
‘And what about Tom’s daughter—Francesca, isn’t it?’ Natalie rattled on, not giving Kate a chance to say more on the subject of Connor needing a father figure. ‘Where does she fit into the equation?’
‘Ah, Francesca—that’s another story,’ said Kate slowly.
‘Oh,’ said Natalie, raising her eyebrows, ‘and why is that? Doesn’t she like any of you?’
‘It isn’t that. I’m sure she likes us.’ She paused then frowned. ‘At least, I hope she does. She and Siobhan seem to get on very well—take Saturday, for instance. She invited Siobhan over for a day’s riding—they have their own horses. I took her over and…and Francesca’s mother was there…’
‘You met her?’ Natalie threw her a shrewd glance. ‘How was she towards you?’
‘OK, I guess. Not exactly friendly, but I wouldn’t expect that. She must know we’ve all been spending time together even if she doesn’t actually know about Tom and me—although I wonder about that.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘I’m not sure really.’ Kate shook her head. ‘I think it was just something that Tom said.’
‘Are you going to tell me what this something was?’ asked Natalie when she fell silent.
Kate took a deep breath. ‘It’s probably nothing really, but apparently Francesca lives in hope that Tom and her mother will get back together again.’
‘But don’t you think all children from broken homes hope for that?’ asked Natalie, echoing the sentiments that Kate herself had voiced to Tom.
‘Yes, I guess…’
‘So it isn’t that that’s bothering you…?’
‘No, not exactly…’
‘Then what?’ she probed, and when Kate remained silent she said, ‘You’re not afraid that Tom is still in love with her, are you?’
‘No,’ Kate said quickly, too quickly. ‘No, of course not…’ she added, but she knew she didn’t sound too convincing. Was it that she was worrying about?
‘Has he given you any reason to suspect that?’ Natalie gave her no time to explore those particular possibilities.
Doubtfully Kate shook her head. ‘No, not really, only that he said that she and the man she lives with have never married…and that she came back to him once—Tom, that is—and he felt he should try to make their marriage work for the sake of the children.’
‘And you’re thinking he might have just said that when his real reason was that he was still in love with her?’
‘Maybe.’ Kate shrugged.
‘She left him, didn’t she? In the first place, I mean?’
‘Yes, so she could be with this Max Oliver. Tom says she should never have married him, that she was always in love with this other guy. The reason she and Max haven’t married is because his wife won’t give him a divorce.’
‘Hmm,’ said Natalie. ‘So what happened when she came back to Tom?’
‘It didn’t work out and she went back to Max.’
‘Very unsettling for the children,’ Natalie observed.
‘And for Tom,’ said Kate.
‘Yes, and for Tom,’ Natalie agreed. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at Kate. ‘Know what
I think?’ she said.
‘No,’ said Kate, ‘but I have the feeling you are going to tell me. In fact, I’d be glad if you did.’
‘I think that you should just take things as they come. Don’t try to force any issues, just enjoy what’s happening. And who knows? In the end you may just find that everything will turn out for the best.’
‘You think so?’ asked Kate hopefully.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Natalie firmly. Draining her glass, she added, ‘And even if it doesn’t, you will have had a wonderful time with a really fantastic man, won’t you?’
‘Yes…’
‘That is, always supposing that he is that fantastic?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Kate…?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Kate with a sigh, ‘there really isn’t any doubt about that.’
‘Well, there you are, then.’ Natalie stood up and looked down at Kate. ‘So, for heaven’s sake, stop worrying about something that might never happen and just enjoy.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘DO YOU have children, Sister Ryan?’
Kate looked down at the young woman in the postnatal bed who was attempting to feed her baby. ‘Yes, Paula,’ she said, ‘I do. I have a girl and a boy.’
‘So you know all about breastfeeding.’ The woman pulled a face.
‘It was a long time ago but, yes, I do remember thinking I would never get the hang of it, or rather my daughter wouldn’t get the hang of it. But she did in the end, and it was well worth the experience. But just look at baby Jessica now—she’s well away. I don’t know what you are worrying about.’ Reaching out her hand, Kate gently stroked the soft down on the baby’s head, then with a smile she moved on to the next bed where another new mother, Vicki Perceval, was resting quietly, her baby son asleep beside her in a cot. Kate liked to visit the postnatal ward at least twice a day to check on the new mums and their babies. With its restful décor and pretty print curtains the atmosphere was different from that in Antenatal, not fraught with apprehension. Neither did it have the clinical efficiency of the labour suites. Here amongst the flowers and cards of congratulation was a sense of relief, even though at times the happiness was laced with emotion and anxiety as for the new mothers the realisation of responsibility sank in.
‘How are you this morning, Vicki?’ Kate asked.
‘Much better, thank you, Sister.’
‘And the bleeding?’
‘It’s eased up since last night.’
‘And your temperature is down. Keep on like that and we could look at you and baby Bradley going home, perhaps tomorrow morning or, if Mr Fielding says so, even later today.’ Bending over the cot, Kate gently lifted back the cellular blanket and looked down at the baby, who slept peacefully beside his mother.
‘That’s great.’ Vickie smiled and picked up the paperback she had been reading. Then as Kate was about to move on she called her back. ‘Oh, Sister,’ she said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is Mr Fielding your husband?’
‘My husband?’ Kate stared at her. ‘No, of course not—my name is Ryan.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Vicki said, ‘but some professional people keep their maiden names when they marry, don’t they?’
‘Yes,’ Kate replied, ‘they do. But I didn’t. My husband’s name was Ryan.’
‘You’re divorced?’
‘No, I’m a widow,’ Kate replied, and somehow, for the first time, as she said it, she didn’t suffer that dreadful sinking feeling that she had always done in the past whenever she had told anyone.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Vicki was clearly embarrassed. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Whatever gave you the idea that Mr Fielding was my husband?’ Suddenly Kate was curious.
‘I don’t know…really, it was nothing.’
‘No, go on, please, I’d like to know,’ she said.
Vicky flushed and glanced round the ward as she spoke. ‘It’s just that you seem so in tune with each other somehow—we’ve all thought so, haven’t we, girls?’ She appealed to the three other occupants to back her up.
The women all nodded and one said, ‘Yes, it’s the way he looks at you—as if you are the only woman in the world. It makes me feel all funny inside whenever I see it—I wish my husband looked at me like that. He did once but that was a long time ago.’
‘I don’t think mine ever did,’ said another, and there was a ripple of laughter that dissolved any awkwardness.
‘So we were wrong, then?’ said Paula. When Kate didn’t answer, continuing her perusal of some notes, she prompted, ‘Sister?’
‘Well, you were and you weren’t,’ said Kate, coming to a decision which she hoped she wouldn’t live to regret. ‘We aren’t married, but we are seeing each other.’
‘I knew it!’ The woman who had complained about her husband never looking at her in that certain way punched the air in triumph in a gesture that reminded Kate of Siobhan.
Paula suddenly said, ‘Talk of the devil…or in this case, maybe not…’
All eyes, including Kate’s, flew to the entrance where Tom had suddenly appeared. He looked as handsome as ever with his white coat undone over his dark suit and a stethoscope draped around his neck. He stopped and looked around at the bright, expectant faces, then at Kate, his eyes narrowing slightly.
‘You look a happy little band this morning,’ he said uncertainly.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Vicki, ‘we are, Mr Fielding, we are.’
Suddenly Kate couldn’t cope with the situation any more and with a muttered apology she left Tom to the tender mercies of his patients. Once at the nurses’ station she sent Natalie back to the postnatal ward to conduct the round with Tom, then she fled to the comparative sanctuary of her office, away from the knowing glances and speculative stares.
So even the patients were noticing now, she thought as she poured herself a badly needed cup of coffee and settled down behind a mountain of paperwork. The staff had sussed it ages ago, she knew that, and in spite of her fears to the contrary had seemed to accept the situation, so really it had only been a matter of time before the patients followed suit. But were they that transparent, she and Tom? Were their feelings reflected right there on their faces for all to see? And if so, did it matter, provided it didn’t interfere with their work?
With a little sigh she took a sip of her coffee, reflecting as she did so on the past few weeks.
She had taken Natalie’s advice, allowing her relationship with Tom to unfold naturally, and she had enjoyed every precious moment of it, keeping her fears for the future firmly under control and just allowing herself to be happy for the first time in two years. There had been many family occasions—meals together either at Copse End or Kingfishers and they had all gone to watch Joe play rugby for his school and had cheered themselves hoarse when his team had won. They had gone to the coast again, all of them this time, and Tom had made a barbeque on the beach. Later they had sat in the moonlight in the shadow of the rocks while Tom had strummed a guitar. They had all gone to see Siobhan in her school play, even Aunt Bessie, and Kate knew how pleased Siobhan had been when afterwards she’d hugged her daughter and Siobhan had said, ‘That was great, you all coming—just like we were a real family.’ All of those moments were precious, the kind of moments that made memories that could be taken out and enjoyed again and again right down the years. But for Kate even more precious than those shared family moments were the times that she and Tom spent alone.
He took her out again, several times, to restaurants and once to a hotel in the Cotswolds where they stayed overnight, but the only place that they could truly relax and be completely alone was at Kingfishers when Joe and Francesca were with their mother and Siobhan and Connor with Aunt Bessie. On these occasions Kate didn’t stay the night, feeling this would be unfair on Aunt Bessie, and in some strange way this seemed to make the few hours they spent together even more precious.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said more than once when, after making love, he would reach out for her again
.
They had talked of their relationship and where it was going, of course they had, just as they had talked about commitment and the future. ‘We’ll take it slowly,’ Tom had said at the beginning, mindful, no doubt, of her bereavement and whether or not she was fully over Liam’s death and also, Kate was certain, mindful of his own fears about being able to trust anyone again. But as time had gone on they had inevitably found themselves talking of the future and of being together.
He had told her he loved her, once, deep in the night when he had called her name as they had shared wonderful sex together.
‘But there are so many problems,’ she had said on another occasion as they had lain in bed together after a particularly mind-shattering hour of making love. ‘There are your children, and there are mine, there is your house and there is Aunt Bessie and Copse End. I couldn’t just leave her, Tom, especially after her being so good to us.’
‘No, of course not,’ he’d agreed. ‘We need to think things through thoroughly before we do anything, but in the meantime…’
Kate smiled now as she recalled how he had reached out for her again, pulling her on top of him and laughing up into her eyes. Surely there was nothing now that could destroy such happiness?
‘Kate?’ She looked up sharply to find Tom in the open doorway of her office, and because of the erotic nature of the thoughts she’d been having she felt the colour flush her cheeks. Tom saw it, too, and he came right into the office, shutting the door firmly behind him. ‘What is it?’ he said softly.
‘Nothing,’ she protested.
‘Yes, there was,’ he persisted. ‘I know that look. Come on, tell me, I want to know.’
‘I was thinking about us, if you must know, Tom Fielding,’ she said with a defiant tilt of her chin, looking up into his face.
A Very Special Surgeon Page 14