‘Have we got to pick up Luke and Sophie today?’ asked Callum as they reached the car.
‘Yes,’ Lara replied. ‘We have about half an hour to wait—shall we go and buy some sweets while we’re waiting?’
‘Yes,’ Callum said in satisfaction. ‘But bags I sit in the front.’
‘OK.’ Lara opened the passenger door for him.
‘Even when we get Luke?’ Callum looked up at her.
‘Even when we get Luke,’ she agreed.
Half an hour later they picked up Luke and Sophie from their school, which was a mile away from Callum’s.
‘Why’s he sitting in the front?’ asked Luke, eyeing his younger brother disdainfully.
‘Because I said he could,’ Lara replied, ‘to make up for not being able to go to the park.’ She paused. ‘Have you got your swimming bag, Sophie?’ she asked, her eyes meeting those of the girl in the driving mirror. Sophie was renowned for forgetting things, especially her swimming gear on the days her class went to the local swimming baths.
‘Course I have,’ said Sophie indignantly. ‘Has he got sweets?’ She peered over the back of the front seat at her younger brother.
‘He has,’ said Lara, ‘and here are yours.’ Bending down, she retrieved two packets of sweets from her bag and passed them back.
‘Oh, brill, thanks!’ said Sophie.
‘Cool,’ said Luke.
‘What did you say?’ said Lara, raising her eyebrows.
‘Thanks,’ muttered Luke.
A quarter of an hour later they entered the long street of identical terraced houses where they lived and the battle began to find a parking space among the cars parked on either side of the road.
‘There’s one!’ shouted Luke. ‘Over there by the tree.’
‘Hope I can get into that,’ said Lara. ‘It doesn’t look that big.’
‘Yes, you can,’ said Luke with all the confidence of his eleven years. ‘There’s loads of room.’
‘OK, Luke.’ Lara pulled a face. ‘If you say so.’
A few minutes later she had parked successfully between two cars. ‘Told you,’ said Luke loftily as the children scrambled out of the car, down the pavement and into a house with a tiny front garden and a bright blue front door with a brass doorknocker. Lara followed more slowly and by the time she entered the hallway of the house Luke and Sophie had clattered up the stairs while Callum had made his way into the kitchen at the rear of the house.
It was warm in the kitchen after the damp chill outside, and as Lara pulled off her coat and scarf she called a greeting to the woman sitting at the table onto whose lap Callum had climbed. ‘Hi, Cassie, how are things?’
The woman turned her head towards Lara, and as always Lara felt a pang somewhere deep inside as she caught sight of the disfiguring scars across her sister’s face and down her neck. ‘Not so bad,’ she said, but her voice was dull and flat, not full of fun and laughter as it had once been.
‘We’re making a dinosaur at school,’ said Callum suddenly, as if he had just remembered. ‘And, Mum,’ he went on tugging at the woman’s sleeve to make sure he had her attention, ‘Lara bought us sweets.’
‘Did she?’ Cassie hugged him then watched as he slipped from her lap and ran out of the kitchen. ‘You spoil them,’ she said to Lara, but her words held no accusation, rather gratitude—and not just for buying sweets.
‘Well.’ Lara gave a little shrug. ‘He couldn’t go to the park because of the rain and he was so disappointed, and I couldn’t buy sweets for him and not for the other two, could I?’
‘What sort of a day have you had?’ asked Cassie.
Lara considered for a moment. ‘Interesting,’ she said.
‘Oh, in what way?’ Cassie stood up and, moving to the sink, filled the kettle for the inevitable cup of tea she and Lara always shared at this time of day.
‘We have a new locum surgeon,’
‘Is this to take Mr Sylvester’s place?’ asked Cassie. She loved to hear about Lara’s life at the hospital and about the people she worked with.
‘Yes, it is.’ Lara took mugs from a cupboard and lifted a china teapot down from a shelf. ‘It looks as if Mr Sylvester could be away for some time yet.’
‘So in what way was this interesting?’ asked Cassie. As she leaned against the sink, the sleeve of her jumper rode up slightly, revealing yet more scars, a reminder that her injuries hadn’t only affected her face and neck.
‘Well, this new guy isn’t the usual run-of-the-mill type. For a start he comes from Argentina, although I believe his mother was English, but I have to say he doesn’t look very English.’
‘Hopefully he speaks it,’ said Cassie.
‘Oh, yes, he speaks it very well,’ Lara replied, ‘and apparently he’s very highly qualified. He’s also a partner in some private London clinic.’
‘Did you get on all right with him?’ The switch on the kettle clicked and Cassie turned to fill the teapot. Lara instinctively wanted to step forward to help her, knowing that her sister’s vision was impaired, but she knew she mustn’t—Cassie’s confidence would never be restored if she weren’t ever allowed to do things for herself.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Lara replied instead. ‘Once he’d got over the fact that I nearly ran him over before he’d even set foot in the hospital. Mind you, I think I more than made up for that by giving him a lift to the station.’
‘Sounds as if you got quite friendly with him,’ remarked Cassie as she opened the biscuit tin and set out several chocolate biscuits on a plate.
‘Not really,’ said Lara with a shrug. ‘He probably won’t even remember who I am the next time I see him—that’s the way some of these surgeons are.’
All thoughts of the new surgeon were driven from her mind a moment later as first Luke then Sophie and Callum erupted into the kitchen for the snack and the chat that had recently become something of a daily afternoon ritual.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Luke dropped a kiss on Cassie’s forehead in passing while Sophie lingered for a cuddle from her mother before sitting at the table and reaching out for a biscuit.
For the following half-hour news of the day was exchanged as the children told their mother and Lara what each of them had done at school. With their news over, Lara turned to her sister. ‘And what about you?’ she said. ‘Did the doctor come?’
‘Yes, he did.’ Cassie held her mug between her hands as if warming them as she sipped her tea. ‘He’s changed my tablets again,’ she added. Then, her eyes meeting Lara’s, she added, ‘The antidepressants, that is.’
‘Well,’ said Lara, ‘let’s hope these will soon make you feel better.’
‘I don’t like you being sad, Mummy,’ said Sophie. ‘I want you to be happy and smiley again just like you used to be.’
‘I know, darling,’ whispered Cassie, the ever-ready tears springing to her eyes. ‘So do I.’
‘Right,’ said Lara, rising to her feet, ‘homework time. And, Callum, the guinea pigs’ cage needs cleaning out.’
Amid predictable grumbles, the children dispersed and Cassie went upstairs, leaving Lara sitting alone at the kitchen table.
It had been three years now since that terrible day when a pan of hot fat had exploded in Cassie’s face, leaving her with severe burns to her face, neck and arms. Three long years of hospital appointments, skin grafts and, for Cassie, debilitating depression, as well as coping with the scarring left from the burns and impaired vision. It had been two years since Cassie’s husband Dave had left her, unable to cope with what had happened, and it had been almost two years since Lara had put her own life on hold and moved in with her sister to help care for her and her three children.
It had been a nightmarish time, not only having to deal with Cassie and all her problems but also with three bewildered children who couldn’t understand why their father had left them. Dave had quite simply disappeared out of their lives. For a time he’d sent regular amounts of money but around a year ago even that had stopped and
Cassie had had a letter from him saying that he had lost his job.
They had had a serious struggle to make ends meet. Cassie was in no fit state to work and Lara had only been working part time at St Joseph’s in order to be able to help more at home. This, she knew, would have to change, especially now that Callum was at school full time, and if she’d been in any doubt, her resolve had been further reinforced by the steady arrival of yet more bills. They were sitting there now on the mantelpiece, staring her in the face—the familiar brown envelopes—and Lara knew there was no way they were simply going to go away.
She wasn’t used to being short of money—in the past she had worked full time on A and E and had been well on the way to a sister’s position and a salary to match, but after Cassie’s accident she had become very interested in the treatment of burns and had applied for a job on the burns unit at St Joseph’s. That had been fine, financially, until Dave had left and Lara had taken the decision to move in with her sister. She’d given up her flat and had very quickly reached the conclusion that she would be unable to go on working full time. But that had been then. Things had changed now and she recognised that she needed to get back to full-time employment again. She would talk to Sue in the morning. Having made the decision, she felt better, and decided she would go and tell Cassie there and then.
After climbing the stairs and reaching the landing, through a half-open door she saw her sister in the bedroom she shared with Sophie. She was sitting on the bed and her shoulders were slumped.
‘Cassie,’ Lara said, tapping the door, ‘can I come in?’ When Cassie looked up Lara went straight in. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked anxiously as she saw the sign of tears on her sister’s cheeks.
‘It’s all a mess, isn’t it?’ said Cassie, wiping her eyes.
‘What is?’ said Lara, sitting on the bed beside her and slipping one arm around her shoulders.
‘Everything—money, the children, you, me…’
‘Whoa, there, take it easy,’ said Lara. ‘Let’s take this slowly, one thing at a time. The children are fine.’
‘They’re missing Dave,’ said Cassie with a sniff.
‘Yes, I know, but there’s not a lot that we can do about that at the moment. Maybe when he gets another job he’ll get in touch again. As for you, well, honestly, Cass, you are so much better, everyone can see it, you’re doing so much more now. Which brings me on to money and what I’d come up to tell you.’
‘The bills are mounting up again, Lara.’
‘True,’ Lara agreed, ‘that’s why I’ve decided to go back to full-time work again.’
‘Really?’ Cassie’s eyes widened.
‘Yes.’ Lara nodded. ‘Now that Callum’s at school all day, I don’t need to be here so much. I’m sure you can cope with meeting Callum from school, and the other two can come home on the school bus.’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘We need the extra money, Cass.’
‘Yes, I know, but, oh, Lara, it’s all down to you again. It really isn’t fair. We’ve taken over your life. You have no life of your own, you’ve lost your home—you haven’t even got a decent sized bedroom—and you’ve lost your boyfriend…’
‘That wasn’t going anywhere,’ said Lara quickly.
‘But it might have done if we hadn’t messed it all up for you.’
‘Listen, Cassie.’ Lara took her sister’s hands. ‘No one forced me to do what I did. I did it of my own free will because you and the kids were in trouble. You are my sister and they are my nephews and niece, and I love you all.’
‘Oh, Lara.’ Cassie’s voice broke and the tears coursed freely down her cheeks and over the scars. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without you…’
‘Things will get better, I promise you,’ said Lara firmly. ‘I’ll get more hours and we’ll settle those bills first, then we’ll see what other improvements we can make to our lifestyle. As for men, who needs them?’
‘You’ll find someone else one day,’ said Cassie, wiping her eyes with a tissue. ‘I’m not sure that I want anyone else—after all, I have three children and I doubt anyone would look at me looking like this. But you…well, you’re young and lovely, Lara, and you have your whole future before you. Someone will come along, you’ll see.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Lara lightly. ‘I never get to meet anyone.’
‘You did today,’ said Cassie.
‘Today?’ Lara frowned.
‘Yes, your new Argentinean surgeon.’
‘Oh, him,’ she replied flippantly. ‘He’s hardly boyfriend material.’
‘Pity,’ said Cassie. ‘I thought he sounded rather dishy.’ She paused. ‘Was he?’ she added. ‘Dishy, I mean?’
‘Don’t know, really.’ Lara wrinkled her nose. ‘He wasn’t my type. Very dark, his hair so closely cropped I thought he was bald, tall, and I would imagine fantastically wealthy, as when he isn’t working at St Joseph’s he’s operating on rich, spoilt women who want face lifts and tummy tucks.’
‘Sounds rather interesting,’ mused Cassie.
‘Like I said, definitely not my type.’
‘Just because the last man in your life was a Scandinavian, blond, outdoor type, it doesn’t mean that anyone different has to be ruled out,’ said Cassie mildly.
‘I know that,’ protested Lara, ‘but the chemistry has to be there in the first place, doesn’t it? Otherwise there’s no attraction, and without that, well, there’s no point, is there?’
‘And there wasn’t any spark with this guy—not even when you stopped and gave him a lift home?’ asked Cassie innocently.
‘No, of course not,’ Lara retorted. ‘I only gave him a lift because it was raining…and because…because I’d nearly killed him earlier, and I guess I may have been feeling a bit guilty about that.’
‘I see,’ said Cassie.
It was ridiculous, Lara thought as she made her way to the small, single room which had been hers since she’d moved in with Cassie and the children—one double being occupied by Cassie and her daughter and the other by the boys. Of course she hadn’t been attracted to the new locum surgeon. As she had painstakingly explained to Katie and her sister, he quite definitely wasn’t her type.
On the other hand, she had to admit, she had actually been very aware of him when he had sat beside her in her car—not, she supposed, that she could have been anything else given the size of the man and the close proximity necessitated by her little car. But, no, this had been something else, something fleeting, elusive even that she was unable to put her finger on. But attraction? No, surely not that, which, when she thought about it was just as well, given that Andres Ricardo quite obviously was as far removed from her world and lifestyle as it was possible to get.
Her previous boyfriend, the one Cassie had referred to, had indeed been very different. For a start he had been Swedish—a doctor on an exchange visit to the hospital where Lara had been working at the time. His name was Sven, and he’d been very blond with blue eyes and a toned, athletic body, no doubt as a result of all the sport he played. Lara had thought she had been in love with him at the time and he had certainly told her he loved her—frequently—but after she’d moved in with Cassie and she hadn’t been able to see him so often, he’d changed and she’d found herself doubting his protestations of love. In the end they’d simply drifted apart. She’d heard that he’d been seen with someone else—that had hurt—but in time she’d got over him and by the time she’d been told that he’d returned to Sweden she really couldn’t have cared less.
There had been no one since, there had quite literally not been the time. But when Lara thought about it she had to admit that it hadn’t really bothered her, and in spite of Cassie’s assertion that she had put her whole life on hold, she really didn’t see it that way. Her sister had needed her and she had been there for her—it was as simple as that. They had always been close, even though Cassie was six years older, and when they had been children it had always been Cassie wh
o had looked after Lara. Now the tables had turned and it was Lara’s turn to care for Cassie. The last two years had been tough, she couldn’t deny that, but she didn’t regret her actions one little bit. And now it looked as if things might be about to change again.
While Lara had been talking to Cassie about their future, Andres had stepped off the train at Waterloo and taken a cab to Knightsbridge, to the quiet, tree-lined square and the elegant town house, which belonged to his mother and which, while he was in London, was his home. It was a tall, imposing building set on three floors and built in red brick in balanced, symmetrical Georgian style, with high sash windows and a central front door at the top of a short flight of stone steps. After paying the cab driver, he let himself into the house, the silence rushing out to meet him as he opened the door. He deactivated the alarm system and crossed the spacious tiled hallway to enter his study, where he found that his housekeeper had left the day’s mail on the large mahogany desk. He was just flicking through the envelopes when the telephone on the desk rang.
‘Andres?’
‘Hello,’ he replied, recognising the voice of his partner Theo. Cradling the receiver between his shoulder and chin, he began opening his mail.
‘How did it go today?’ asked Theo.
‘Not so bad. In fact, pretty good really. It’s a modern unit and the staff seem OK.’
‘That’s good—you weren’t too sure about it, were you?’
‘Still not, if the truth be known,’ Andres replied. ‘But, no doubt, time will tell. How were things with you today?’
‘They were going all right,’ Theo replied, ‘until Belinda handed in her notice.’
‘Belinda!’ Andres shifted the phone to his other hand. ‘Why did she do that?’
‘Said she wants to spend more time with her family…but who knows? Anyway, it’s left us in the lurch a bit.’
The Latin Surgeon Page 3