A Life Less Lonely

by Jill Barry

  Memories often popped into her head without warning. This time she was propelled back to her wedding. St Valentine’s Day that year arrived as if by special delivery from central casting. It was a day stolen from spring, gentle sunshine filtering into the village church through stained glass panels in fruit gum-colours. The heady sweetness of white lilies had drowned the designer perfumes worn by the congregation, causing Greg to sneeze on the verge of saying, I do. Somehow they avoided collapsing into helpless giggles.

  The bridegroom’s kiss had sealed the moment. A moment when Andrea felt bound, heart, body and soul to Greg. No one could ever snatch away that memory. Apart from the small, vital reminder that was Josh, only by reaching into the treasure chest and clutching at fragments from the past, could she survive the present.

  ***

  When Keir’s PA showed Andrea into his office, no way was he prepared to see the woman from the elevator. Today she wore a navy blue trouser suit and jade green shirt, unlike the manic button presser. He recalled admiring her silky chestnut brown hair but today she’d scooped it up and coiled it away from her face, not leaving it loose as she had the other day. She held out her hand hesitating when he didn’t immediately grasp it.

  Clearly something had happened. He knew at once. That haunted expression he’d rewound countless times alone at night was replaced by something else, something different yet still disturbing. Try resignation mixed with self-preservation.

  This potent mix was familiar. Keir recognised a soul mate, understood how this woman must hurt inside. He suspected she, like him, yearned for the emotional and physical intimacy once enjoyed, its loss still mourned. His eyes probably mirrored hers as the final, most poignant reaction kicked in; that of knowing each recognised the other’s need. She, like him, couldn’t bear to contemplate the agony of loving and losing ever again. Each wore an invisible shield, ironically, only too apparent to the other.

  But where were his manners? This was an important first meeting with a professional colleague. He needed to get his act together, and fast.

  He shook her hand. “Dr Palmer, it’s good of you to come over so early. I’m Keir Harrison. Please sit down. Coffee’s on its way.” He gestured to a green leather couch facing a low table distanced from the polished oak partners’ desk.

  “Please call me Andrea,” she said. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Richard.”

  She walked over to the couch and sat down, trying to compose herself. Keir Harrison was unmistakeably the man encountered at the lift the other day. At that moment, she’d been startled to find a part of her, frozen when her darling Greg died, suddenly showing signs of awakening. Rather like a corm lying dormant in the cold dark earth, only to realise there was still a sun, bringing warmth, light and the promise of rebirth.

  The consultant radiated confidence. That voice of his must be a crowd pleaser when he addressed packed conference halls. The man was a powerhouse, just as Greg had been, yet in a totally different way. This realisation that she could experience affinity with, could react physically to a virtual stranger, unwound her. Because it was too soon, far too soon after the kind of loss she’d suffered. Every nerve in her body screamed the same message, instinct warning her against disloyalty. Despite this reaction, she wondered again whether he’d recognised her. And again, asked herself, why on earth should he?

  In his turn, Keir struggled to concentrate; trying with all his usually formidable will power not to see the lovely stranger he’d allowed to drift into his dreams. He strove only to see a competent professional possessing a CV her supervisor Richard pronounced perfect for Keir’s purpose. So it was, but did its owner have to be quite so gorgeous?

  He glanced at Andrea’s hands, slim, with tapering fingers. The almond-shaped nails gleamed with palest pink polish. Artistic hands, he thought as he watched her open her laptop with minimum fuss. No doubt there were numerous questions lurking in the computer’s innards. But whatever she threw at him, he’d find satisfactory answers. Suddenly he very much wanted her on his team.

  Coping with this onslaught of conflicting emotions, he felt shocked to see the narrow gold band on her wedding finger. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Next to it she wore an engagement ring, a sparkling emerald and diamond starburst. How stupid of him not to consider she might be married. It proved his continuing vulnerability in that the shell constructed so painstakingly had come dangerously close to fracturing. What a fool he’d been. But equally, what a fool Richard Bailey must be if he’d involved himself any way but professionally with a married woman. These mixed responses overwhelmed Keir, unsettling him more than he liked to admit.

  Someone tapped at the door. He hastened to open it only to look blankly at his PA. He took the tray and thanked her.

  “Right,” he said, walking towards his visitor. “Coffee is served. And with chocolate digestives, even. Now, fire away, Dr Palmer. I mean, Andrea.”

  Chapter Two

  “Your take on this intrigues me,” she said. “But checking the volunteers’ diets is vital, especially noting any allergies.”

  “Absolutely and I’ll personally monitor the short list. You have my assurance on that.” He sat back in his chair. If only she’d take a biscuit so he could eat one too. He’d grabbed a banana as he left home but Keir relied on breakfast to kick-start him and that morning he’d slept late. Showering and scrambling into one of his ‘look at me I’m a consultant suits’ - as Connie used to call them - had taken priority. His former wife had never quite got it. Never really appreciated what lay behind those years of studying and slogging to achieve his all-consuming ambition. It wasn’t about munching smoked salmon in the consultants’ dining room. He’d wanted to help dispel the demons around dementia.

  So how ironic was this? Andrea Palmer sat opposite, her proximity playing havoc with his libido, when her expertise to help drive his project to a successful end should take top priority. He also needed to ask her something important, though he sensed the time wasn’t quite right yet. But the implications of her answer totally dissolved his reasoning powers. Hopefully, when he could pose the question, they’d be a little more relaxed in one another’s company.

  Before his stomach could growl its displeasure, Keir picked up the daisy-patterned china plate of biscuits. He’d inherited the crockery from his predecessor and never had it seemed as twee as it did now. He offered the chocolate digestives to Andrea.

  She accepted one, balancing it in her saucer. “I must say your suggestions did rather stop me in my tracks,” she said. “What’s the feeling among your colleagues? She looked him in the eye. “Scepticism perhaps? Or don’t they dare challenge the great man?” For a moment, as if she’d been caught giggling in church, her face displayed shock at what she’d said.

  He couldn’t contain his laughter, certain she imagined he might take offence over such a provocative remark. His gut feeling told him she hadn’t meant to sound quite so cynical and he struggled to stop himself reaching out and taking her hand to reassure her.

  Andrea picked up the cookie without noticing the chocolate melting against her hot cup. She took a bite, causing the gloopy mess to stick to the side of her mouth. Obviously unable to prevent her tongue from seeking out the stickiness, she licked her lips, not noticing the crimson paper napkin Keir’s PA had placed within easy reach.

  Keir, trying to help, had been about to pass her a serviette when her pointy pink tongue peeped between her full lips and scrambled his brain, making him ball his fists either side of his chair. What hope did he have of maintaining a professional relationship with a woman capable of causing his stomach to lurch as if he stood poised at the top of a ski run? What did she just say? Something about scepticism … insinuating his colleagues wouldn’t dare challenge his theories…

  Keir too bit into a biscuit. “Not the easiest of things to eat when you’re wearing a business suit,” he mumbled through a crunchy mouthful. Deftly he fielded a falling morsel. “For your information, Andr
ea, my most senior colleagues view me as the bad boy in the consultants’ dining room.” Damn. Now he’d dropped crumbs between his impeccably trousered thighs. “Yes,” he said. “Of course there’s a huge appetite for something to take the sting out of the ageing process. Equally, there’s a huge determination not to raise false hopes. I should say there’s an equally strong wish for this trial, when it commences, to adhere to very high standards.”

  She remained silent. They stared at one another until the sexual tension between them stretched taut as a bud about to burst. His phone broke the silence.

  “Please excuse me for taking this,” he said. “I’ve asked Lyn to put through only one particular call while you’re with me. Hopefully this is it.” He let loose that full-beam smile. “Help yourself to more coffee.”

  Andrea ate the rest of the biscuit and topped up both their cups while Keir concentrated upon whatever his caller had to say.

  For the sake of her self-esteem, Keir hoped he’d help gloss over Dr Palmer’s awkward moment. If the phone call hadn’t happened when it did, things might have proved trickier. They were both very much on their best behaviour with one another but the spark ignited couldn’t be ignored. He’d been startled by the electricity jumping between them.

  He listened to the verdict he’d awaited. By the time he put down the phone and returned to his seat facing her, Andrea was checking something on her computer screen. He saw her smile as she caught him snaffling the last biscuit, like a guilty schoolboy hoping chocolate counted as one of his five a day.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, touching a finger to his lower lip.

  Her eyes focused upon him brushing away one golden oaten fragment.

  He watched the muscles flicker in her throat and forced himself to imagine stepping into a cold shower. “Talk about conversation stoppers,” he said. “Andrea, you shall be the first to know. I’ve just received excellent news.”

  So, was he going to tell her? Or was he going to sit there, crunching and keeping her in suspense? He’d somehow stepped out of the time line. But then he smiled devastatingly. He was devastating full stop. She seemed to be turning into an adolescent groupie who’d done the next best thing to drooling in his presence. It was a miracle she hadn’t felt her cheeks glow hot with embarrassment because frankly she deserved to.

  Briefly she closed her eyes. The big man had succeeded in stopping her in her tracks though this was much more to do with his physical impact than his cunning vitamin cocktails. No way must she give the tiniest hint of this being the case. Andrea desperately yearned to re-establish the cool professional aura she so often relied upon to freewheel her through her days.

  “We have lift-off!” He punched the air. “Funding’s been approved so I can approach the rest of the people I want on the team. You’re the first one I’ve spoken to. Richard suspected you might be seconded in some other direction and the only way to prevent that was to snap you up while the going was good.”

  “I’m flattered!” she said, unable not to respond to his excitement. “Let’s hope everyone else on your list says yes.”

  “Thank you, but there’s another matter I need to mention.”

  She half-expected to hear doubts about her mother’s inclusion on the trial, polite rejection cutting short further discussion. But as he spoke rapidly, his words tumbling out, his hand ruffling his velvety crew cut, for a moment she knew exactly what he’d looked like as a much younger man. And what he had to say caused his eyes to shine with excitement.

  “We’ll hardly be up and running before I’m due to fly to Canada and speak at a very prestigious conference.” Keir leaned forward, clasping his hands round one long leg looped carelessly over the other. “I want you … I want you to accompany me and present a paper on the possible impact of all this upon the community.”

  Just like that. As if he was asking her to scrub up and walk into theatre with him to observe an operation. Yet to her, it was one of those moments when there was no other cliché to use than ‘time stood still’. This was so unexpected and what a fantastic career opportunity it offered. A small, insidious voice then wheedled its way inside her confetti storm of thoughts. How can you possibly contemplate flying thousands of miles away from home when you have Josh to consider?

  “You don’t have to make an instant decision, Andrea. I appreciate you’ll need to talk it over with your … your immediate family. Lyn will provide details of dates, flights, hotel etc. But she’s not Miss Moneypenny. I work her into the ground and expect miracles by the bucketful but she hasn’t tied up every single detail yet. Give her a break and wait until tomorrow before you contact her.”

  “How many people are attending this conference?” Andrea wished her heart wouldn’t keep behaving as if it played drums in a rock god’s band.

  “How many? Just me, and hopefully you,” said Keir. “I thought we could do a joint presentation. Do you have a problem with that?” He paused. “We’ll need to practise together, of course.”

  That same cheeky stomach lurch interrupted the thoughts quickstepping through her mind. She wanted to accompany Keir to Canada, and for more than one reason. But she was desperately torn. No way could she leave Josh with his grandma, even if her mother’s neighbour agreed to drive him to and from crèche and supervise his care. No. Kirsty was the only possible person with whom she’d trust her precious boy, especially as Josh would adore staying with the family for a few days. But Andrea’s oldest and dearest friend was pregnant and had her own son and husband to look after. Could she really expect Kirsty to cope, while she flew off to Montreal? Rosemary’s vulnerability presented another problem, one still waiting for Andrea to resolve.

  If only the conference was in the UK. But it wasn’t. It was on another continent for goodness’ sake. And much as she longed to take her place at the podium along with a man poised to make waves among his peers, Josh must take precedence over his mother’s career.

  “You’ll be meeting the rest of the team as soon as I can cast my net.” Keir’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll need you and Richard here at the hospital for the sessions, if that’s in order. And you know I’m coming to the university soon? Delivering a lecture to some of your first years?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ve been asked to sit in - unless you prefer me not to, of course.”

  His eyes crinkled. “I shall look forward to it, as well as to hearing your final decision.”

  ***

  At home that evening, Andrea banished thoughts of her excitingly scary opportunity until after Josh’s bedtime. Maybe then she could speak to her friend and judge her reaction.

  “Let’s look at some photos of Daddy,” Andrea suggested, patting the space beside her on the couch. She’d taken the family album from the sideboard drawer. Somehow it comforted her more to turn its pages than click on images on her laptop. She’d scanned in every single one of Greg she could find.

  Josh joined her. “Is my daddy dead in the photos?” He began sucking his thumb.

  How could her heart keep on beating when it was broken?

  “A photograph captures living people at whatever age they are.” Andrea cuddled her son close. “Look, that’s Daddy and Mummy on our wedding day.”

  “When I wasn’t here.” His tone was matter of fact.

  “That’s right.” She turned over more pages. “Look, there’s your daddy holding you when you were only two days old.” She riffled backwards. “And here he is when he was a little boy - probably about the same age as you are now.”

  Josh’s concentration span wasn’t great at the best of times. He peered suspiciously at the first photograph. “I’m a big boy, though,” he said. “That’s my daddy with someone else’s tiny baby.”

  Andrea knew he found it difficult to comprehend he was once no taller than his beloved teddy bear. Maybe small nuggets of information were best at this stage. But she so wanted to keep Greg alive in their son’s memory.

  “Shall we have a cup of tea and a custa
rd cream?” She pushed away dangerous thoughts of brushing biscuit crumbs from Keir’s well-honed thighs and mock-punched Josh on the arm.

  “Yay! Can I have Daddy’s mug?” Josh was a real teapot, exactly like his father. How poignant she found it, having this marvellous reminder of her husband. How lucky she was.

  “Yes, my love, of course you can.”

  Andrea switched on the TV so Josh could enjoy the CBeebies bedtime story while she prepared their snack. She’d spoken to their GP after her meeting with Keir and events would follow their course. Her mother had startled her when she mentioned baking Greg’s favourite lemon cake. If Josh became confused by something his gran said, Andrea must get round it as best she could. Talk about a juggling act. The more she thought about it all, the less inclined she felt to approach Kirsty and announce she had the chance to fly to Montreal. It sounded so high-powered. Too much so, if she was entirely honest with herself.

  ***

  Keir sat across the desk from Susie McIntosh. Apart from being a first-rate nurse, she would have made a fantastic hospital almoner in years gone by. Susie’s name topped the list of nurses he wanted to have working with him.

  “I’m chuffed you should think of me, Keir, especially as these people from the university sound very high-powered. So, which other nurses will be involved? What about Jane Lloyd?”

  He laughed. “I’m seeing Sister Lloyd later this afternoon. You two, plus one other, are my short listed victims. And no more of this high-powered stuff, please. You’re a total professional, at the top of your game.”

  “Thank you. Dare I ask who the third nurse is?”

  “Moira Haynes.”

  “Ah.”

  He frowned. “And your point is?” Keir needed a strong, mutually supportive team. His initial concern over Richard’s possible closeness to Andrea Palmer still niggled at him.