Second Lover

by Gill Sanderson

  ‘Of course.’ He took her at once.

  ‘I really needed that,’ she told Ross as she sipped the iced lemon drink he had brought her.

  ‘Glad you like it, I’m having the same myself.’ He lifted his glass to show her.

  ‘Good. You’d better keep fit, because I haven’t danced for years and I love it. So you’re in for a long hard night.’

  ‘Then let’s start right now.’ He led her onto the floor.

  The band had changed tempo and were playing something slow and dreamy. She slid into his arms and they moved gently to the music. ‘Missed me?’ he asked.

  ‘Certainly have. Life on the ward isn’t the same without you. You’re a better teacher than Melissa.’

  ‘I asked if you’d missed me. Not your medical tutor.’

  She pretended to think… then squeezed him. ‘Yes, I suppose I have.’ More seriously, she went on, ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I talked to someone who used to know Gavin. I’m beginning to rethink things, get my life back.’

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ he said sincerely, and they danced in silence for a moment. ‘And while I have the chance,’ he went on, ‘let me say what an enchanting dress that is.’ He looked down. ‘It’s good to see so much of you.’ She blushed. ‘I felt quite peeved when I saw you dancing with the Greek god, bare skin to bare skin.’

  ‘Ross McKinnon! In anyone less relaxed than you I’d say that was jealousy.’

  He looked mock affronted. ‘Me! Be jealous? Why, have I any cause to be?’

  In a judicious voice, she said, ‘He’s certainly a gorgeous hunk.’

  They danced slowly behind a pillar, where she took his head in her hands, pulled it down, and quickly kissed him. ‘But after mature reflection I think I prefer you.’

  They went back to their table. Melissa demanded to dance with Ross, and Simon led Lyn onto the floor again.

  She had to admit to herself that he was more than just extraordinarily good-looking; he was a charming man as well. Once again he held her slightly too close, once again she eased him away. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘By that I mean I’m sorry you’re pushing me away. I was rather enjoying our various bare bits making contact.’ She had to laugh.

  He didn’t just dance, he talked to her as well. He wanted to know about her private life, but she wouldn’t tell him. Then he asked about her course, about where she’d trained, about her plans for the future, and she found herself telling him this. He was an easy, relaxed companion.

  ‘I’ll bet you’re good at taking histories,’ she told him. ‘No patient will hold anything back from you. You know all about me now.’

  ‘Ah. In that case it’s time for diagnosis and treatment. Will you promise to follow my prescription faithfully, Lyn?’

  The music came to an end. ‘Probably not,’ she said. ‘I don’t have all that much faith in doctors. Remember, I am one.’ They walked back to their table.

  The evening progressed, and she had a marvellous time. Other people came over to their table and asked her to dance. Edward Burrows, the saturnine consultant from Outpatients, came and waltzed with her and thanked her once more for rescuing baby Charlotte Jackson. A big pink medical student who had looked round the ward a couple of weeks ago invited her to jive. Although she wanted to spend time with Ross, she thought it an excellent idea that people weren’t sticking to their own little groups but were wandering round and chatting to others.

  Ross had excused himself and gone table-hopping and, to her surprise, Sir Sidney asked her to dance. Even more to her surprise, he was good at it, moving with far more skill than his son.

  ‘I like Ross McKinnon,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘Usually an SR who goes table-hopping will talk to other consultants, or even edge towards the hospital manager’s table. This could be a night for networking. But not Ross, he’s talking to friends. Who’s that he’s with now?’

  There was Ross, sitting laughing with a small group. ‘They’re the ward cleaners,’ Lyn said.

  ‘Might have guessed.’ They twirled round a couple more times and then he went on, ‘I’m a heart surgeon, and I know that having a big heart means illness and probably an early death. But speaking for a moment poetically—Ross has a big heart.’

  ‘I know,’ said Lyn sincerely.

  She was wondering how someone as open as Sir Sidney could have a reserved daughter like Melissa. It seemed strange. Simon was much more obviously Sir Sidney’s son.

  The evening went on. She danced with Ross, she danced with Simon, and she danced with people who ambled over and asked her. At one stage Simon brought two bottles of champagne over, but after she had had a couple of glasses she returned to the iced lemon which was much more refreshing. Then, when the evening was nearly over, a young nurse, still in her uniform of black trousers and white shirt, and with the pink epaulette that indicated that she was a student, came hurrying over to their table. She looked concerned.

  It was Ross she wanted and he smiled at her kindly, as he did to all the junior staff. She whispered something to him; he glanced at his watch and nodded. Then she darted away.

  ‘Trouble?’ Sir Sidney asked.

  ‘Not really. The night nurse in charge on the ward is new and a bit nervous, and now she has a minor problem A temperature has spiked so she wondered about increasing the dosage. Henry’s on call but she doesn’t want to fetch him out unnecessarily. They know I’m in the building so asked if I could spare ten minutes. ‘He looked grim. ‘She should be able to cope but… please excuse me; I’ll be back as quickly as I can.’ He walked towards the exit.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ asked Simon.

  Lyn shook her head. ‘I’m really enjoying myself, but now the heat is getting to me.’

  ‘It’s affecting me too. Would you like to walk to the foyer, have a breath of fresh air?’ When he said it, she realised that this was just what she wanted. She hesitated, then said, ‘Well, just for a moment then. Are you coming, Melissa?’

  Melissa was now alone at the table. ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said. Lyn wondered at the odd expression on her face.

  Simon led her through the foyer to the open air, and they sat on a bench just outside the great sheets of glass. He took her hand in his, and briskly she removed it. ‘I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Lyn,’ he said. ‘I was wondering if we might—’ Then things fell into place.

  ‘I’m going to tell you something about my private life,’ she interrupted. ‘Did you know I was engaged? My fiancé was killed in a climbing accident nine months ago.’

  She could tell by his horrified expression that he didn’t know. ‘Lyn… I’m so sorry… no one told—’

  She went on, ‘This is the first time I’ve really been out, really enjoyed myself since it happened. It’s been great, two gorgeous men vying for me. Every girl in the place has envied me, and I’ve had a wonderful time.’ She paused. ‘It’s a pity that one of the two men was put up to it by his sister. You were supposed to divert me while Melissa concentrated on Ross, weren’t you?’

  He didn’t speak. She looked at his bowed shoulders, his woebegone face, and realised that she quite liked him.

  ‘Sorry, Lyn,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t know about you. If I had, I wouldn’t have done what Melissa wanted. She’s helped me in the past with a couple of scrapes I’ve got into, so when she asked me to do this, I…’

  ‘It was still a bit low,’ Lyn said.

  ‘I know it was.’ He was silent a while longer, and then went on, ‘You’re not going to believe this. I don’t believe it myself. You’re right; I was supposed to make you fall for me. Anyway, I haven’t succeeded, I’ve been found out in a mean little scheme and just the opposite has happened. Lyn, I think I’ve rather fallen for you.’

  ‘Simon! You can’t still be trying to con me.’

  ‘I’m not. It’s going to cause me to suffer, and, let’s face it, I deserve it.’

  He thought a moment and said, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d
have lunch with me some time?’

  ‘No. I’m busy and there already is a man in my life—sort of.’

  She thought a minute. ‘Simon, did your father know about this little plan of Melissa’s?’

  ‘No. It’s not his style.’ Simon frowned. ‘But I wouldn’t be surprised if he guessed. He’s a wily old devil.’

  ‘I like him,’ Lyn said.

  ‘So will you forgive me?’

  ‘I guess so. After all, as I said, I’ve had two gorgeous men chasing me instead of one.’

  ‘Truer than you think,’ he muttered. ‘Lyn, there’s another thing. I’ve got no right to ask you this, but I will. Will you go easy on Melissa? She’d kill me if she knew I was telling you, but I’m going to. Melissa was adopted. My parents thought they couldn’t have children. Then, as often happens, I came along. Melissa couldn’t have been loved more but there’s always been a bit of insecurity, and when our mother died five years ago it got worse.’

  Lyn leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I think she’s very lucky having you as a brother. And don’t worry, I’ll not get upset. Now, let’s get back to the dance.’

  They arrived to find Sir Sidney, Melissa, and Ross talking. Lyn caught the quick glance between Melissa and Simon, registered his sheepish expression.

  She wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t taken some pleasure in the situation. She walked over to Ross. ‘The evening’s going to finish soon,’ she said, ‘but I’m still in the mood for dancing if you are.’

  ‘Seize the day,’ he said, and led her onto the floor.

  Her words were prophetic, because before they started to dance there was an announcement: this must be the last waltz. She didn’t have time to think about what she wanted to say next, or to consider the most appropriate way of putting it. She took a deep breath. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening,’ she said. ‘There’s bound to be a fight for taxis and I’m tired. May I stay at your place tonight?’

  There. She’d said it.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘The accommodation is a bit cramped, but you’re welcome to what there is. Is this an immoral proposition, or do you merely want somewhere to sleep?’

  She looked up. She knew he’d be smiling and he was.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she said. ‘Who knows what tomorrow may bring? But for tonight I need a couch or an easy chair or a bit of the floor.’

  ‘In that case, the last squeeze of my toothpaste shall be yours.’

  They rejoined the group. Sir Sidney said that he had arranged for his Rolls to call, could he offer her a lift home?

  ‘I’ve already arranged a lift,’ she said, bending the truth slightly, ‘but thank you anyway.’

  ‘I know you’re kept pretty busy, but if you ever want a look round my place I’d like to show you.’

  It was an offer that pleased her. ‘I’ll certainly take you up on that,’ she said. She shook his hand, kissed him on the cheek, and then did the same to Simon.

  She didn’t want to crow over Melissa. So she shook her hand, and kissed her too. ‘Being with a group, with you, your father and Simon, made the evening for me,’ she said, with some degree of honesty. ‘But it’s back to work on Monday, and nothing will have changed.’

  Melissa got the message. ‘It never does,’ she said. ‘Thanks for everything, Lyn.’

  The end of any fancy dress party was always half comic, half sad, Lyn thought as she watched the last of the costumed merry-makers trail out of the hall. Everyone knew that the party had ended, that real life had started again and it was strange to be dressed up as a fairy or a Roman soldier. There were a few jokes, a few comments, and then she and Ross were standing alone in the foyer.

  Now she was nervous. She had started something, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to go on. With his uncanny ability to recognise what she was feeling, he knew this. He put his arm round her shoulders. ‘This is London,’ he said. ‘There’s always a taxi. You could be home in fifteen minutes.’

  She was determined. ‘No. I want to stay.’

  ‘Then I live this way. We’ll pick up your coat as we walk.’

  She knew that the hospital had a block of modern flatlets that were let out to staff. But it was unusual for a specialist registrar to live in one. ‘Why don’t you buy a place of your own?’ she asked curiously. ‘You could easily afford to, you’re not a poor student any more.’

  He shrugged. ‘Why do I need a house or a flat? I’m away whenever I can and this place is handy and no trouble. I don’t want roots, I guess.’

  ‘So this is all the home you have?’

  ‘Not exactly. My brother is a GP in the wilds of Norfolk, and I keep a room in his house.’

  ‘That was his boat we borrowed,’ she said, interested. ‘I can’t think of there being another Ross McKinnon. Is he like you?’

  He laughed. ‘Peter? I suppose he is, in some way. But he’s older, very happy in his job, has a lovely wife and four outrageous kids. He did better than your projected two-point-four children.’

  ‘Quite,’ she said.

  ‘His wife is Angela, and she’s always telling me it’s time I settled down, that I should find a good woman and get married. I think she worries that I might be a bad influence on her husband. I might unsettle him.’

  ‘It sounds like he has an ideal life. He won’t be unsettled.’ She decided not to comment about his search for a ‘good woman’.

  Walking through the cool night air had wakened her slightly, but as they reached the door to the flats she staggered a little. Instantly he reached to support her. ‘I didn’t think you were that drunk.’ He grinned.

  ‘Hardly. I’ve had a big, big wonderful evening, I worked till gone midnight last night, I’ve been all day preparing for this party—and, yes, I have had a drink. But, basically, I’m just dead beat.’

  ‘We’re nearly there.’ With an arm round her, he escorted her up a flight of steps, and opened a door. ‘Here. The McKinnon luxury penthouse flat.’

  Now she was wearier than ever. She blinked. ‘It looks like the inside of a toy box,’ she said. There were assorted bits of furniture, and two walls of bookshelves. She sat heavily on the bed.

  ‘Time for me to play the thoughtful host,’ he said. From a cupboard he took a towelling dressing gown, a thick flannel shirt. He pulled her to her feet, and pointed her to a door. ‘Go and have a shower,’ he said. ‘There are clean towels in the airing cupboard and toothbrushes in a box. You can use this shirt as a nightgown; it’s the biggest I’ve got.’

  She wondered what he was talking about, then with unsteady legs made her way to the bathroom. She was exhausted! Whatever else she had expected of the evening, it wasn’t that she’d promptly want to fall to sleep.

  It was a small but practical bathroom. She hung up her dress, showered, removed her make-up and cleaned her teeth. She felt a tiny touch more awake—but not much. His shirt made a comfortable but revealing nightie, so she pulled on the dressing gown and went back.

  Apprehension was fighting with fatigue as she looked at him. ‘This wasn’t quite what I had intended.’ She yawned, and he laughed.

  ‘Bed,’ he said. She looked at the single divan in the corner of the room. It looked so attractive, with the top turned down to show pale blue sheets under a tartan throw. Then she saw a sleeping bag stretched out on the rug.

  ‘I’m not taking your bed,’ she protested. ‘I…’

  ‘No arguments. I’ve spent nearly as much time in a sleeping bag as I have in a bed.’

  Well so had she and she knew which she preferred.

  ‘When I said I wanted to stay with you…’ she mumbled, but he led her to the bed, sat her in it and handed her a mug. She’d wondered what the nice smell was.

  ‘Cocoa,’ he said. ‘Comfort for body and soul.’

  She sipped, and looked at him in shock. ‘Cocoa?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I added some brandy. Gives it a kick, don’t you think?’

  It certainly had some kind of effect. She
drank most of it then she was vaguely aware of someone taking the mug from her hands, easing off the dressing gown, and sliding her legs into the bed. She was so tired. Perhaps someone kissed her on the forehead. She didn’t know. Perhaps it was a dream.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lyn knew where she was instantly when she awoke. She was in Ross’s bed. Life felt good, she was happy in herself, waking more contented than she could remember in a very long time. Yesterday, last night, had been wonderful, except the last few minutes. She hadn’t intended to get so tired. But Ross hadn’t seemed to mind. She was sure he hadn’t minded. And perhaps she could make it up to him.

  She turned, trying not to let the bed creak. The bedside clock told her it was nine o’clock; it was months since she’d slept as late as this. By the light through a crack in the curtains, she looked at Ross. He was lying on his side in the sleeping bag, with his back to her. An arm and a shoulder were out of the bag, and they were naked. She wondered if he was wearing anything at all.

  Rooms told you about people, Lyn believed. This one had the normal, quite pleasant hospital furniture: the desk, bed, chairs, and assorted cupboards. Ross had contributed the computer and lined two of the walls with bookshelves. They were untidy. There were piles of papers, magazines, and pictures among the books.

  She looked at the pictures. One was of a smiling group in climbing kit, with a snow-capped mountain in the background. There were other mountain pictures, and a couple of a jungle-banked river. Only one picture didn’t show mountains or rivers or great expanses of ice. It was a family picture of a tall man who could only be Ross’s brother, with a pretty blonde wife and four children. They all looked contented.

  Many of the books were familiar medical tomes, some less familiar. Ross evidently believed in keeping up with the latest developments. There was a surprising number of books on natural history, and, of course, no end of books on travel and exploration. She sighed and felt a little dismayed. But it was what she would have expected.

  As she leaned forward, the bed creaked. Ross rolled onto his back, his eyes flicked open, and he was looking at her. His long hair was tousled, he needed a shave, and when he smiled at her he looked ridiculously attractive.