Lindsay was still smiling after they’d entered the building and passed Bronwen’s suspicious stare and Gwynneth’s bright-eyed, eager look before she and Aidan diverged to their separate consulting rooms.
If she was honest she was still reeling from what was happening between herself and Aidan. It had been surprising to the point of being shocking, and yet there was an inevitability about it that simply demanded acceptance, as if the whole thing was beyond their control and being orchestrated by some force greater than either of them. But whatever it was, it had the effect of rendering her almost helpless, to the point where she could hardly bear to be away from him.
She had barely time to remove her jacket and sit down behind her desk when her intercom buzzed. She flicked the switch, expecting it to be Gwynneth or Bronwen, but surprisingly it was Henry’s voice she heard.
‘Lindsay,’ he said. ‘I thought I saw you come in. Could you spare me a few moments, please, before you start surgery?’
‘Of course, Henry. Shall I come along to your room?’
‘Yes, please.’
It wasn’t until she was halfway along the passage that it dawned on her that Henry had sounded a little strange. Usually if he wanted to say something to her he popped into her room. This sounded serious or at least important. Was it Megan? Had something happened? She quickened her pace and had actually reached Reception before the possibility dawned on her that maybe Henry knew about Aidan and herself. Had he seen something? Or heard something? They had been so careful. But in a village like Tregadfan didn’t everyone know everything about everyone else? Was it impossible to have any secret?
Her heart was thumping uncomfortably by the time she’d knocked on Henry’s door and he’d bidden her enter. He was standing with his back to the door, gazing out of the window. It was a relief to find him alone. For one awful moment Lindsay had expected to find Aidan there as well. On second thoughts, maybe that wouldn’t have been a bad thing—that way they could have faced the music together. There was no more time to speculate, however, for Henry turned from the window.
‘Ah, Lindsay,’ he said, ‘come in, please, and sit down.’
Closing the door carefully behind her, Lindsay crossed the room and sat down facing him while Henry took the chair behind the desk.
‘Lindsay, a situation has arisen which I am forced to address.’ Henry made a steeple with his hands, pressing his two index fingers against his mouth as he carefully considered his words.
Here it comes, thought Lindsay wildly. He’s going to say it has come to his attention that his partner and his trainee are in the midst of a torrid affair. Well, if that’s the case, I shall say it simply isn’t true. You can hardly call it an affair when we haven’t even been to bed. I shall say…I shall…
Suddenly she realised that Henry was speaking again and had mentioned Megan’s name, but she’d been so embroiled in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard any more. Megan. Lindsay’s head jerked up. So was that what this was all about? Had she been right on her first guess after all? ‘Is Megan all right?’ she blurted out.
Henry paused and looked at her over his hands. ‘Megan?’ he said.
‘Yes, you said something about Megan.’
‘Only that she’d had a visit from her friend, Juliet, who helps her run her craft shop in the village.’
‘Oh, so Megan’s all right, then?’ Lindsay frowned, out of her depth now.
‘Well, she’s no worse…’
‘Thank goodness. I thought for one moment you were going to tell me that something had happened to Megan.’
‘No, nothing like that. I’m sorry, Lindsay, if I startled you.’ Henry stared at her in concern. ‘You’ve gone quite pale.’
‘It’s OK,’ Lindsay mumbled. ‘So, what were you saying about this Juliet?’
‘She went to see Megan yesterday afternoon and she told her something that I find rather disconcerting.’
‘Oh?’ Lindsay frowned, wondering again what on earth she was about to hear and whether her sense of relief over hearing that Megan was no worse was about to be shattered as her relationship with Aidan was exposed after all.
‘Yes,’ mused Henry. ‘She told Megan that she’d heard in the village that Hannah Sykes was pregnant.’
‘What?’ Lindsay stared at him. ‘But no one knows that yet.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ Henry replied. ‘You said she’d made an appointment to come here with her mother to see you?’
Lindsay nodded. ‘They’re coming in this afternoon.’
‘So who else knows about Hannah, apart from you and I?”
‘Only Aidan. I told him at the time to make sure I was handling it properly.’
‘And Hannah hadn’t told anyone else?’
‘She said no. Not even the boy responsible knows.’
‘I suppose there’s always a chance she told a friend. What does concern me is that the leak came from here.’
‘But how could it when only the three of us knew?’
Henry was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the desk. Then, looking up, slowly he said, ‘Presumably the staff could have known?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so. I put it on the computer and in Hannah’s notes and, of course, I did a urine test. But…’ Lindsay bit her lip ‘…even if they did, surely no one would say anything. It would be a direct breach of confidence and I can’t imagine that either Bronwen or Gwynneth would do that. I doubt whether even Judith could have known, and then there’s only Mrs Jones, and she would only have known if she’d heard any of the others talking about it.’
‘You have to admit, it amounts to a pretty irresistible bit of gossip—the Baptist minister’s fifteen-year-old daughter pregnant.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Nothing for the moment.’ Henry stood up. ‘I want to speak to Megan again first. At least by this afternoon the girl’s mother will know.’ He sighed. ‘That is, if she hasn’t already heard it elsewhere.’
Lindsay returned to her consulting room with a heavy heart. She hoped desperately that Henry didn’t think that she’d been guilty of betraying a patient’s confidentiality. The poor man had enough to worry about as it was without this. A swift stab of guilt hit her when she remembered that he knew nothing yet about herself and Aidan. Would that also simply add to his burden?
During the course of the morning she decided that she would talk to Aidan and put it to him that they tell Henry what was happening between them.
When, however, they all met up in the staffroom at the end of the morning, all such resolutions fled from her mind when she caught sight of the expression on Henry’s face. He’d apparently already told Aidan about the leak concerning Hannah Sykes. Now, as he joined them and Lindsay poured him a coffee, it was Aidan who broached the dreaded question.
‘Any further development, Henry?’ he asked.
Henry nodded grimly. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘and of the worse possible kind.’ When the other two remained silent, he said, ‘I rang Megan and asked her if she would ask her friend Juliet where she’d heard about Hannah Sykes. Juliet told her that she’d overheard a conversation in the local library between two women. Because there appeared to be nothing secret about the conversation, Juliet had imagined that the content was common knowledge.
‘Did she know who the women were?’ asked Aidan.
‘Oh, yes,’ Henry replied. ‘One was the butcher’s wife and the other, the one who imparted the information, was…Bronwen Matthews.’
Lindsay drew in her breath sharply.
‘I shall deal with the matter straight away,’ Henry went on. ‘I just wanted the pair of you to know before I do so.’
‘You’ll dismiss her, of course,’ said Aidan.
‘Absolutely,’ Henry replied. ‘It’s clearly stated in the staff contract that any breach of confidentiality will result in instant dismissal.’
‘How will Gwynneth manage on her own?’ asked Lindsay.
‘We’ll just have to help h
er as much as we can until we can appoint someone else.’ With that Henry left the staffroom to carry out the onerous task that, as senior partner, now fell to him.
‘Poor old Henry,’ said Aidan as the door shut behind the older man. ‘He hates this sort of thing, but it just shows you never can tell. I would have staked my life on Bronwen’s loyalty to the practice.’
‘I was thinking that we should come clean and confess to Henry about us,’ said Lindsay after a moment. ‘I’d hate him to find that out from someone else as well.’
‘I agree,’ Aidan replied. ‘But maybe right now isn’t exactly a good time. There will be anger and stamping around from Bronwen and, I imagine, floods of tears from Gwynneth.’
‘But Bronwen terrorised Gwynneth,’ protested Lindsay. ‘I would have thought she’d be glad to see the back of her.’
‘I shouldn’t count on it,’ said Aidan darkly. ‘There’s no telling with Gwynneth—she’ll probably feel sorry for Bronwen now.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘SO GELERT was a dog?’ Lindsay rolled over in the long grass so that she could look down the hill to the village of Beddgelert below them.
Aidan nodded and eased himself alongside her. ‘Yes.’ He pointed. ‘His grave is down there.’
‘So what is the legend?’ asked Lindsay.
‘Many years ago,’ said Aidan, ‘according to Welsh folklore, Gelert’s master, a prince, had left him guarding his baby son. When the prince returned the hound came to meet him with blood around his mouth. There was no sign of the baby and the prince thought Gelert had attacked and killed him so he, in turn, drew his sword and put the dog to death.’
‘And had he killed the baby?’
‘No. The baby had been dragged away and was found safe and sound beside the body of a wolf. The prince then realised that Gelert had saved the baby by killing the wolf and it was the wolf’s blood he had seen and not the baby’s. He felt so remorseful that he had the faithful dog buried with great ceremony and his grave is marked to this day.’
‘What a sad story,’ said Lindsay. Turning to look at Jess and Skipper, who were stretched out in the sun beside them, she said, ‘It just goes to prove the loyalty and devotion of a dog, doesn’t it?’
‘Absolutely. It’s a pity some humans didn’t show the same loyalty.’
‘You’re thinking of Bronwen,’ she said.
Aidan sighed and rolled onto his back. ‘I would never have thought it of her,’ he said. ‘I suppose it just goes to show you never can tell.’
‘What do you think she’ll do?’
‘Goodness knows. It won’t be easy to get another job. Not in Tregadfan. It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t move away.’
‘But where would she go?’
‘She has family near Llangollen—it’s my guess she’ll go to them.’
They were silent for a moment, reflecting on what had happened the previous week at the surgery. It was quiet and peaceful up here in their vantage point above Beddgelert, the only sound being the hum of a light aircraft overhead, the bleating of sheep and the distant peal of church bells.
It was Lindsay who broke the silence because suddenly she had to know. Taking a piece of grass, she began tracing it gently over Aidan’s face. ‘Talking of Bronwen,’ she said, ‘was there ever anything between the two of you?’ She’d half expected him to give a shout of incredulous laughter, but he didn’t.
‘Why do you ask?’ he said, opening one eye and staring up at her.
‘I had the feeling once or twice that Bronwen regarded you as her exclusive property. She also seemed to resent me and the fact that you were my trainer—I just wondered, that’s all.’
‘There wasn’t anything between Bronwen and myself,’ said Aidan at last. ‘But that’s not to say she wouldn’t have liked there to have been. She made that plain on more than one occasion.’
‘And you?’ she said softly, stopping her tracing.
‘No,’ he replied firmly. ‘Never in a million years. And I’d made that quite plain almost from the moment I joined the practice.’
‘So it wasn’t Bronwen who betrayed you?’
‘Betrayed me?’ He frowned, squinting at her against the glare of the sun.
‘Yes, when I told you about Andrew and the way he’d betrayed me, I got the impression that you, too, had been betrayed because you seemed to know exactly how I felt.’
‘Yes,’ Aidan agreed. ‘I did know because it had happened to me. But it had nothing to do with Bronwen.’ He paused and for one moment Lindsay thought that even now he wasn’t going to enlighten her further, then he sighed. ‘It was a long time ago. After my father died my mother and I carried on living in our home in Ireland until I came to England to study medicine. There was a girl in Ireland. Her name was Sineard. I loved her and I thought she loved me and would wait for me.’
‘But she didn’t?’ asked Lindsay softly.
‘No. She ended up marrying the boy who had been my best friend at school.’
‘So yours was a double betrayal?’
‘Yes, I suppose you could say that.’
‘So you really did know how I felt?’ she whispered, leaning across him as she did so.
‘Oh, yes, I knew. Only too well,’ he replied. Reaching out his hand, he caught her arm, the one supporting her weight, so that she fell across him. The next moment he’d rolled over so that he was on top of her then he lowered his head, blotting out the sun as his mouth covered hers.
She’d been prepared to ask him more about this woman, about his life in Ireland, about his mother even, but as he parted her lips with his tongue that fierce desire was ignited once more and within moments she was clinging helplessly to him. As his hands moved, moulding her breasts and hips through the thin fabric of her dress, her body throbbed and ached and clamoured for more.
It was the insistent ringing of the mobile phone that interrupted them only seconds from the point of no return.
At first Lindsay thought he was going to ignore it, but in the end years of discipline and medical training took over.
‘Damn!’ Aidan groaned as he reached over to where his jacket lay on the grass and retrieved his phone from the pocket.
‘Henry,’ she heard him say after he’d answered the persistent ringing. A silence followed as he listened, then he said, ‘We’re at Beddgelert. Yes, we could come back that way.’ Another silence. ‘Yes, Lindsay is here with me.’
Pulling a face, he switched off the phone. ‘Come on, Dr Henderson,’ he said scrambling to his feet and offering his hand to help her up. ‘We are on a mercy mission.’
‘What is it?’ she asked. The dogs, startled by the sudden activity, rose to their feet and began stretching themselves and yawning.
‘Clarrie Williams has gone into labour,’ Aidan replied. ‘The district midwife’s car has broken down out on the Glasfryn road—she’s waiting for the rescue service—and Henry has a call to go to Gwytherin. Both of those places are in the opposite direction from the Williamses’ place near Capel Curig.’
‘So what are we waiting for?’ Taking Aidan’s hand, Lindsay led the way down the steep, rocky path to where the Land Rover was parked in a clearing. A mountain stream tumbled beside them, crashing so noisily onto rocks at the bottom that further conversation was impossible until they were inside the vehicle, with the dogs installed in the back.
‘Let’s hope Clarrie can hold on until we get there,’ said Aidan as they pulled out of the clearing onto the narrow mountain road. ‘Fourth babies are usually pretty impatient to be born.’
They were silent for a while as Aidan put his foot down and drove as fast as the tortuous roads would permit.
‘Was Henry surprised that I was with you?’ Lindsay said at last, throwing him a curious glance. ‘With it being our day off, I mean.’
‘Actually, I don’t think he was,’ Aidan replied with a grin.
‘So what did he say?’ Lindsay persisted, ‘when you said I was with you?’
‘It wa
sn’t so much what he said but the way that he said it.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘When I said that, yes, you were with me, he simply said, “Ah.”’
‘Do you think he knows about us?’
‘I’m beginning to think he might have a pretty good idea.’
‘We have to say something soon.’
‘Yes, I know. I thought we’d just let all the uproar over Bronwen die down first.’
‘It’s going to be difficult at the surgery with just Gwynneth there,’ said Lindsay after a while. ‘Do you think it will be too hard to find someone else?’ she added.
‘Actually, I think I might know just the person.’
‘Really?’ Lindsay threw him a surprised look. ‘I thought it was practically impossible to get suitable staff.’
‘It is, under normal conditions, but sometimes one of life’s little coincidences happen. I haven’t said anything yet, but I think that Janet Pearce may well be interested in coming to work for us.’
‘Janet? But her mother’s only just died.’
‘I know,’ Aidan replied, ‘and she will, of course, need time. But once the funeral is over and her mother’s affairs are in order, it may well be just what she needs.’
‘But didn’t you say she was a staff nurse? Won’t she want to return to that?’
‘Janet once told me that she’d been out of nursing for far too long and was too out of touch to be able to pick up the threads again. But with her medical background I think she would be great in the surgery. What do you think?’
‘Well, yes,’ Lindsay agreed. ‘If it’s what she wants, of course.’
‘She once told me that if her mother died she would have to find employment until she reaches retirement age. She’s only in her mid-fifties.’
‘How do you think she and Gwynneth would get on?’
‘I think it could be an excellent combination. Janet is a gentle soul and Gwynneth would respond to that, but at the same time Janet has an excellent brain on her with a flair for order and efficiency. I think they would make a good team.’
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