‘Could I offer to have Jem instead?’
She looked up into the man’s kind, straightforward face and wondered about him. He was a teacher at the senior school, a widower, apparently, and his son Matthew Werrick was one of Jem’s friends, but so far she’d never really had anything to do with him.
He held out his hand. ‘We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Rob.’
She smiled and took his hand, warm, firm and uncomplicated. She had a feeling it matched its owner. ‘I’m Kate. It’s nice to meet you—and I’m sorry about Jem. He’s been asking for ages about Matthew coming to stay, but tonight’s really not good. Maybe another time.’
‘I can have them tonight. I’m more than happy to.’
‘Oh, we wouldn’t dream of imposing, Rob.’
‘It’s not an imposition at all. Actually it would be fun. The weekends can get a bit long, can’t they?’
Oh, yes. And the children were begging. Yet still she hesitated, and his mouth curved into an understanding smile.
‘Don’t worry about it, Kate. You don’t know me. That’s reasonable, but perhaps instead of the night, why don’t you drop him off in the morning on your way to the barbeque, and I can bring them both down later and meet you there? We were planning on coming, anyway. Would that be better?’
‘Oh, Mummy, I want to go to Matthew’s for the night! Please, please!’
‘Jeremiah, don’t, that’s rude,’ she chided, but Matthew was pleading with his father, and Rob gave her a ‘suit yourself’ shrug and a smile, and she gave in.
‘If you really don’t mind, I’m quite happy for him to stay with you. And it’s nothing to do with not knowing you, it’s more that I have problems returning favours because of work.’
‘Well, I don’t think we need to worry about that, do we?’ he said with an understanding and good-humoured smile. ‘I’m more than happy to have Matthew’s friends over. So—do you want to collect his things and drop him round to me? Or come with him at six and I’ll feed you both. Rumour has it I can manage to hurl together a half decent Bolognese sauce—so if you’d like…?’
Actually, yes, she realised suddenly, she would like. She’d spent the last thirty years waiting for Nick to notice her, and the only time he had, it had been devastating. She hadn’t been on a date since she’d started going out with James, and it was nearly eleven years since he’d died. And apart from James, there had only been that one time with Nick, on the night of the storm, the night James had died…
So, yes, she would like. And although it was only a simple supper invitation, for Kate it was a quantum leap. So drawing in a breath, she smiled at Rob and threw herself into the void.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘I’M NOT coming.’
Sam propped himself up against the worktop and folded his arms. ‘Why are you scared, Jamie? Is it because you don’t know what to expect?’
‘I’m not scared.’
Sam sighed. ‘Of course you are. Your mother’s had a stroke, and people die of them. Every day. So, sure you’re scared. It’s only reasonable. Dammit, I’m scared.’ Scared he’d end up trapped here, scared he’d never get away again and he’d be stuck with Gemma in the same town, bumping into each other and driving him insane with wanting.
‘Is she going to die?’
‘Well, of course she is, we all are, but not now. At least, I don’t believe so, anyway. They think she’s got an underlying heart condition—nothing serious, just an irregular beat that could cause her blood to clot, and if that’s the case, she’ll have anticoagulant drugs to slow her clotting and antiarrhythmics to make her heart beat evenly.’
‘What, to go with the blood-pressure drugs and the anti-depressants?’ he said lightly, but Sam could tell there was real fear there lurking underneath his flip remark, and he wished he knew him well enough, wished he was close enough to his brother to pull him into his arms and hug him.
Wished there’d been anyone there to do it to him, when his father had walked out and left him—literally—holding the baby.
But there hadn’t, and Jamie wouldn’t let him anyway, so instead he opened the fridge, poured two glasses of juice and pushed one towards Jamie across the kitchen table. ‘She’ll be all right, Jamie. She’s already so much better.’
‘It’s my fault.’
‘No, of course it’s not your fault. It’s her fault. She’s never looked after herself properly.’
‘No. It’s my fault. We had a row. I got really angry with her, and we were yelling, and I went out. And I didn’t come back until after midnight. And if Gemma hadn’t found her…’
‘She would have died?’ he said softly. ‘Maybe. But that’s not your fault. Lots of people have rows. It doesn’t kill them.’
‘It nearly killed Mum.’
‘No. The stroke nearly killed her. You didn’t. And she misses you. I think she wants to make up.’
‘Did she say so?’
He shook his head. ‘No. But she’s very keen to see you.’
Jamie sat there for a moment, then drained the glass and stood up. ‘So what are we waiting for?’ he asked, and headed for the door.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Jamie! You came!’ his mother said, and, holding out her arms, she wrapped her youngest son against her heart, and Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away.
And there, catching him with his emotional trousers down, was Gemma, carrying a vase of flowers. ‘Hi. You got him here, then,’ she said softly, and he nodded.
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
‘Thanks?’
‘It was what you said, about him being scared. They’d had a row and he thought it was all his fault. Look, are you done here? I was thinking—maybe we could go and get a coffee?’
‘So you can salve your conscience about being nasty to me at lunchtime?’ she said, her eyes reproachful. ‘I don’t think so, Sam. And, yes, I am done,’ she added pointedly. ‘I’m going home—to lie in my bed.’
She put the flowers down on the locker and dropped a kiss on Linda’s cheek. ‘You take care, and I’ll see you when you get home. Bye, Jamie. Nice to see you again.’
And she walked out of the ward, her back straight and her head held high.
His words echoed back at him, and he felt a wash of guilt. Damn. He gave his mother what had to be an awkward smile. ‘I’m just going to go and get a coffee. I’ll leave you two alone for a minute, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do and I missed lunch. I won’t be long.’
She smiled knowingly, and Jamie just grinned, and he ground his teeth and followed Gemma out.
‘Gemma? Please, wait.’
She stopped and waited, but her face was expressionless. ‘What?’
‘Just—I’m sorry. I didn’t—Look, this isn’t easy.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she muttered.
‘Please. Come and have a coffee with me. Give me a chance to apologise.’
She looked up into his eyes, saw the signs of strain around them, and because she loved him—had always loved him, ever since the first time she’d seen him walking on the beach twelve years ago, a boy on the brink of manhood—she nodded. ‘OK. But you’re buying.’
They found a canteen that was open, and he ordered two lattes, picked a couple of sandwiches out of the fridge at random and paid for them, then followed Gemma to a table.
‘Tuna and cucumber or roast beef and horseradish?’
‘Chicken salad,’ she said, taking the tuna, and smiled, and saw the tension drain out of him.
‘They’re going to give me hell for this. Mum gave me such a knowing look, and Jamie was grinning. I should have let you get further ahead before I came out after you,’ he grumbled, struggling to open the other packet of sandwiches.
She watched discreetly, noting that he was obviously finding his finger and thumb uncooperative and the lack of feedback was hampering him. She concentrated on unwrapping her own sandwich and munching into it, and after a moment he succeeded, and she was able to r
elax.
‘Your mother seems quite keen to get us back together again,’ she said conversationally, and he stopped, his sandwich halfway to his open mouth.
‘What’s she said now?’
She shrugged. ‘Just asked how things were going at work. I didn’t tell her.’
He felt his neck heat. ‘That was—I was just—’
‘Defensive? I’m a nurse, Sam. I’ve seen worse.’
But not on him, and it had shocked her much more than she would have believed possible. She took another bite of her sandwich to give her mouth something to do, but even so the silence stretched out until Sam broke it, his voice taut and strangely impassive.
‘She kept telling me that you asked after me. In her letters. Why did you do that?’
Because I love you? Because I needed to know—anything, any scrap of information, anything to keep my love alive…
‘Well, I have to talk about something during a consultation,’ she said lightly, ‘and you’re as good a topic as any.’
And the only one of any interest to her, but he didn’t have to know that.
‘So it wasn’t that you wanted to know?’
Oh, lord, she couldn’t do this. She put her sandwich down and met his eyes. ‘Sam, of course I wanted to know how you were doing,’ she said, giving up the pretence. ‘It’s not as if I hate you.’
‘But you don’t love me. You didn’t—not enough to stay.’
Or too much…
‘Sam, we were so young.’
‘I loved you,’ he said roughly, throwing down his sandwich and leaning forwards, his eyes glittering. ‘I really, really loved you, Gemma—and you just walked away. And you didn’t even tell me to my face. That was the thing that hurt most—that you couldn’t even talk to me. After all we’d shared—’
He broke off, sat back and shook his head.
‘This was a lousy idea. I can’t do it, Gemma. I’m sorry. It would be too easy to let myself get sucked back in, but I’ve been hurt too damned much by you, and I’m not letting it happen again.’
And without another glance at her, he got to his feet and walked away from her, leaving her in a litter of unwanted sandwiches and half-finished coffee and broken promises.
The barbeque was in full swing when he walked down there the following afternoon, and the first person to greet him was Lucy.
‘Sam? Oh, Sam, it’s so good to see you!’ she cried. Handing a tiny baby over to the man at her side, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him. Then she let him go, stood back and stared at him, laughing and shaking her head in disbelief.
‘Goodness, you have got so damned good-looking! I can just hear the clatter of the locks with everyone shutting their daughters up! Come, I want you to meet Ben and the children.’
And she dragged him over to the man he assumed was Ben, and took the baby back out of his arms. ‘This is Ben Carter, my husband, and the little tyke round his neck is Annabel, and this is Josh. Guys, this is Sam Cavendish. He taught me how to light fires and climb trees and—’
‘I’m not sure I want to know what he taught you,’ Ben said with a dry chuckle, but his handshake was friendly enough and Sam could see the bone-deep confidence in their relationship that shone from both of them.
And he envied it. God, how he envied it. To have a love that profound and know it was returned…
‘Gemma’s here,’ Lucy said softly, her eyes concerned.
‘I know.’ Of course he knew. His radar had clocked her the moment he walked into the surgery car park which turned annually into the site for the Penhally Bay Independent Lifeboat Association fundraiser. She would be here, he’d known that. Maybe in a perverse way it was even why he’d come, unable to stay away. Even after yesterday, after all that had been said, after two failed attempts at building bridges, he couldn’t stay away.
But Lucy was one of the few people in Penhally who knew the whole story, and he knew he could rely on her to keep her thoughts to herself.
‘Dad tells me you’re working at the practice. That must make things a bit interesting,’ she murmured.
‘It’s fine,’ he said, trying not to think about just how fine it wasn’t.
‘That’s what Dad said, but I didn’t believe him, any more than I believe you. So—how’s your mother? That was a bit of a shocker.’
‘She’s OK. She’s coming home on Tuesday.’
‘Oh. Right. Will you be OK to work?’
‘Yes. I have to be, I can’t sit and look at her all day, and anyway she’s made fantastic progress. The new specialist stroke unit’s brilliant. And if she needs it, she’ll have physio and occupational therapy and maybe even someone from the community psychiatric team to make sure she’s coping with the changes in her life. And she’ll need to rest and get her confidence back slowly, and I’m only going to be working part time.’
Ben laughed at that. ‘That’s what Lucy said—but somehow, if you aren’t careful, the part time grows. There’s the odd clinic here and the occasional surgery there, and before you know where you are the only thing missing is the on-call.’
‘Well, it’s all a change from working all day and being on call all night seven days a week in a shanty town or some isolated clinic in the bush. And having drugs on tap is a revelation, as is being able to drive down the road without wondering if you’re about to be ambushed or blown up.’
A frown crossed Lucy’s face. ‘Yes, Dad mentioned that. How are you now?’
He smiled. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, his stock reply, and really, he supposed, he was, if you didn’t count the scars and the horrified look on Gemma’s face. And he was enjoying being back at work, just as he was enjoying seeing Lucy again, and meeting her husband and her babies, and being there at the barbeque. Tame and bucolic and very, very English, he thought drily, but somehow safe.
And if it wasn’t for Gemma threatening his peace of mind, he might almost be tempted…
Nick turned the sausages on the barbeque while he smiled mechanically at the busy throng and wondered if Kate was right about Sam and Gemma. They’d been avoiding each other—not hard, in the crowd, but it seemed odd that Gemma hadn’t gone up to Lucy and said hello, and he wondered if that was because Sam was there talking to Ben and cuddling the baby. And ignoring Gemma, in turn?
Possibly. Frankly, he had no idea, and he wondered if that should worry him. Was he really so blind to people’s emotions as Kate implied?
Or was it just that his own life was so filled with pain that he’d shut himself down?
Take the business of Jeremiah—
‘Mummy, we’re here! Hi, Uncle Nick. We’re starving. Can Matt and me have a burger please, Mum?’
‘I should think so, love,’ Kate said, smiling indulgently at him across the barbeque while Nick stood poised with the tongs and stared at the boy who was his son, and then she lifted her eyes and smiled at the man with the children. Robert Werrick, Nick realised, and felt a prickle of something that felt uncomfortably like—jealousy?
Ridiculous! Of course it wasn’t! But her greeting to Werrick then made it obvious that the boys had spent the night at his house and been with him for the day, and he suddenly wondered if—
No. Of course she wasn’t seeing him! And, anyway, it was none of his business if she was. But it didn’t stop it feeling just a little bit odd, and not altogether pleasant…
Gemma spent the rest of the bank holiday weekend blitzing her house.
Her parents had bought Seagull Cottage with the express intention of having somewhere convenient, easy to maintain and with a lovely setting, and all of those things made it ideal for Gemma, so when she’d moved back, she’d persuaded her parents to let her rent it from them.
And it had been perfect.
The garden was just a paved area with pots standing around on it and enough room for a little table and chairs, and because of the mild climate many of the things in the pots over-wintered, so it was just a case of tidying up from time to time. No grass, no hedges, no w
eeding—but that weekend, frankly, she could have done with all of them, just to keep her a little bit busier and take her mind off Sam.
She would have gone to St Piran’s and visited Linda, but she knew Sam’s sisters would be there over the weekend and, besides, so would he. There would be plenty of time to visit her once she was home, and she could choose a time when Sam was out. So with nothing better to do and the garden tidied within an inch of its life, she spring-cleaned the house.
Completely.
She turned out her bedroom, changed the sheets, wiped down the woodwork, polished the furniture—she even wiped the bulbs in the light fittings—and then she did the same to the other two rooms and the bathroom before moving downstairs and blitzing the living area.
She even cleaned out the fridge, her least favourite job in the world, and by the end of Monday the washing was done, there was a pile of ironing she could scarcely see over and she was exhausted.
So exhausted that when she went into work on Tuesday morning, having girded her loins for bumping into Sam, she’d completely forgotten that Linda was being discharged and he wouldn’t be in.
And the disappointment was extraordinary.
Oh, well. She threw herself into her work—mostly baby inoculations with some travel vaccinations for people planning their summer breaks, and then she went upstairs to the staffroom to make herself a drink and found Lauren there.
Damn.
‘Hi, there. Can I make you another drink?’ she asked cheerfully, but Lauren wasn’t fooled. Not that she said anything, just shook her head and asked how Linda was, but the jump from Gemma’s ‘Do you want a drink’ to Lauren’s ‘How’s Linda’ was pretty darned remote—unless your mind was already there, Gemma thought with resignation.
‘She’s fine, I think. Doing really well, but you can tell me more once you’ve treated her. I take it you’re going to be doing her physio?’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 4 Page 6