The Latin Surgeon

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘The best ones generally are,’ said Katie with a sigh. Then, as if she had just remembered, she said, ‘Sue said you were asking for more hours.’

  ‘Yes, I was,’ Lara agreed. ‘I can do more now that Callum is at school full time, but there’s nothing here—Sue’s just taken on someone else. I wish I’d known about that. Still, never mind, I’ll just have to look further afield, that’s all. Anyway,’ she added, ‘I’d best get on otherwise I’ll have Sue breathing down my neck again.’

  By lunchtime Andres had made up his mind, but when he went to look for Lara he was told that she’d gone to the staff canteen for a sandwich. He found her sitting at a table by the window in a shaft of rare sunshine that streamed into the large room and highlighted her auburn hair making it shine like burnished copper.

  ‘Lara?’ he said, and she looked up, startled, her green eyes widening in surprise to find him there. Briefly he thought of the girl he’d seen in the film, the girl who had stirred his senses and reminded him of Lara. ‘Do you mind if I join you for a moment?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘no, of course not.’ She appeared flustered, moving her carton of fruit juice and packet of sandwiches. ‘Are you having anything?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not eating. I just wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘Oh?’ She looked mystified and as he sat down opposite her he again caught the scent of that light floral fragrance she wore. There was something about her that intrigued him but he knew he would do well to curb that instinct. In fact, he wasn’t at all sure that he was doing the right thing where she was concerned. She had children and, even though there was no evidence of a wedding ring on her slim white hand, that didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t married. Not that it would make any difference if she wasn’t, he sharply reminded himself, for she didn’t interest him in that way and quite simply there was no room for a woman in his life. ‘I’m afraid I overheard you talking earlier,’ he said, when it was obvious she was waiting for him to continue.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ She frowned as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘When you were talking to Sister Jackman. I was in her office, checking some records,’ he explained. ‘The door was open and I heard you asking her for more hours.’

  ‘Oh, that. Yes, I did,’ she agreed.

  ‘And she told you that she’d taken on someone else and that there wasn’t anything for you at the present time—is that right?’

  ‘Yes, it is, unfortunately.’ She nodded then took a sip of her fruit juice.

  ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘I’ll have to start looking in another department,’ she said. ‘I really do need more hours, you see. My…my circumstances have changed recently and whereas before I was happy to work part time because it suited me, I now find that I need to go back to full-time work.’

  ‘I think I may be able to help you,’ he said slowly, watching her face as he spoke, looking for her reaction, seeing the puzzled curiosity that passed across her features. ‘Remember I told you about the clinic in London where I am in a partnership?’

  ‘Yes…’ She nodded uncertainly.

  ‘Well, one of our nurses has handed in her notice—she worked part time and I wondered if you might be interested in the job.’

  For one moment her green eyes lit up then they clouded slightly. ‘Would it coincide with my hours here?’ she asked doubtfully.

  ‘Well, as far as I know, it’s mainly afternoons and some evenings.’

  ‘And I work mornings here…’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ He paused. ‘Would you be interested? I’m sure we could make sure that the hours fit in with your work here.’

  ‘Well…yes,’ she said, and for some reason he felt his spirits lift. ‘I think I would be interested.’

  ‘Even if it is dealing with rich women who are dissatisfied with their looks?’

  ‘Even that,’ she said with a wry smile.

  ‘In that case I will arrange for you to come in to the Roseberry Clinic for an interview with myself and my partners—is that all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said faintly. ‘Yes, of course. And thank you, Mr—’

  ‘Andres,’ he said.

  ‘Yes…Andres.’

  ‘You’ll never guess what happened today.’

  ‘No, what?’ said Cassie as she poured the tea.

  ‘I asked Sue Jackman for more hours,’ Lara replied, as she nibbled the edge of a biscuit.

  ‘Oh, Lara.’ Cassie paused and stared at her. ‘I’m so afraid you are going to take on too much…’

  ‘But she didn’t have anything for me,’ Lara went on.

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to manage,’ said Cassie, ‘tighten our belts for a bit.’

  ‘No, wait, you haven’t heard it all yet.’ Lara leaned back in her chair. ‘Remember I told you about our locum consultant surgeon the other day?’

  ‘The man from Argentina?’ Cassie looked up. ‘The one you nearly ran over?’

  ‘That’s the one.’ Lara nodded as an image of Andres in his black coat and fedora flashed into her mind. ‘Well, he overheard Sue telling me she didn’t have more hours for me and he…well, he offered me a job.’

  ‘A job? What sort of a job?’

  ‘I told you about his clinic in London, didn’t I?’

  ‘The cosmetic surgery place? Yes, you did.’

  ‘Well, that’s where the job is,’ Lara said slowly. ‘He came and found me in the canteen at lunchtime, and asked me if I’d be interested. It’s a nursing post apparently and he seemed to think it was mainly afternoon hours, which would fit in with my job at St Joseph’s.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Cassie was still staring at her as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Well, I suppose I must have sounded interested because he said he would arrange an interview with himself and his partners, then before I left the hospital at the end of my shift he came back to me and said he’d phoned them and that they’d like me to go in tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Doesn’t waste any time, does he?’ said Cassie faintly.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Lara agreed. ‘On the other hand, I dare say they need to replace the nurse who is leaving pretty quickly.’

  ‘Will that be your sort of thing?’ Cassie wrinkled her nose as she passed a mug of tea across the table to Lara. ‘Face lifts for film stars and liposuction for rich, bored housewives?’

  Lara hesitated before answering. ‘I wondered that,’ she said at last. ‘In fact, I even made a remark to that effect to Andres…Mr Ricardo,’ she corrected herself.

  ‘Is that his name—Andres?’ asked Cassie quickly.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Do you call him by his first name?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start.’ Lara rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve had enough of that from Sue and Katie. He simply told me his name. Anyway, what were we saying?’

  ‘About face lifts and liposuction,’ said Cassie. As she spoke she lifted one hand and her fingers played across the scarring on her own face.

  ‘Oh, yes. Well, when I made that remark he made it his business to defend his work, and explained that some of the operations he performed were for deeply psychological reasons…’

  ‘And some of them aren’t,’ added Cassie with a sigh.

  ‘Presumably not,’ Lara agreed. ‘I don’t doubt that the vast amount of funding comes from those that aren’t. But I can’t argue with that, Cassie. If Sue had offered me a full-time job on the unit, I would have taken it. As it is, there doesn’t look as if there will be anything there for some time, so I thought I may as well give this a try. If I’m offered the post tomorrow and I really don’t like what I see, I will turn it down.’

  At that moment Callum came into the kitchen and sat down at the table between his mother and aunt. ‘What are you talking about?’ he said, looking from one to the other.

  ‘Auntie Lara might be taking a new job,’ explained his mother as she moved the plat
e of biscuits closer to Callum.

  ‘Won’t she work at the hospital any more?’ asked Callum, helping himself to a chocolate digestive biscuit.

  ‘Yes,’ Lara answered, ‘I’ll still work at the hospital in the mornings, and if I get the new job I’ll work there some afternoons.’

  ‘Won’t you be able to meet me from school any more?’ Callum looked worried and Lara hastened to reassure him.

  ‘Mummy’s going to meet you,’ she said, glancing at her sister.

  ‘Is that right?’ Callum still looked anxious.

  ‘Yes, darling.’ It was Cassie’s turn to reassure him. ‘I shall walk to the school in the afternoons to meet you when you come out. And Luke and Sophie will come home on the bus.’ She turned to Lara. ‘I think there’s a bus I can get if it’s raining.’

  ‘You might see Daddy,’ said Callum, breaking into the conversation. Both women turned to look at him but he went on calmly eating his biscuit, wiping the crumbs from around his mouth with the back of his hand.

  ‘What did you say?’ said Cassie sharply.

  ‘You might see Daddy,’ Callum repeated.

  ‘Yes, I thought that was what you said, but what did you mean?’ Cassie persisted.

  ‘I saw him,’ said Callum. ‘I saw him today at playtime and I saw him last week as well.’

  Cassie seemed speechless for a moment so Lara intervened. ‘Where was he, darling?’ she said calmly.

  ‘By the railings, looking in,’ Callum replied.

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’ asked Lara gently.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d believe me.’ Callum wriggled himself down from his chair. ‘You didn’t believe me before when I said I saw him outside the supermarket.’

  ‘Did he speak to you?’ said Lara with a quick glance in Cassie’s direction.

  ‘No.’ Callum shook his head. ‘He was too far away. Can I go and play now?’

  ‘Yes, all right.’ Cassie nodded in an absent-minded fashion and Callum ran out of the kitchen. A moment later they heard him clumping up the stairs.

  Lara looked at Cassie. ‘Do you think it was Dave?’ she said.

  ‘Who knows?’ Cassie shrugged. ‘I didn’t believe Callum before because I thought it was just wishful thinking on his part because he missed his father so much, but…I don’t know. He seemed pretty sure, didn’t he?’

  ‘How would you feel about it if Dave was back in the area again?’ asked Lara slowly.

  ‘Well, he was the one to break contact when he lost his job, but if he is back around here again then I guess we would have to work something out so that he could see the children.’

  ‘Will they want to see him?’ asked Lara, remembering the terrible traumas there had been when Dave had first left.

  ‘Callum will, certainly,’ Cassie replied, ‘and maybe Sophie. But I don’t know about Luke—there’s still a lot of anger in Luke.’

  ‘And what about you?’ asked Lara gently.

  ‘What about me?’ demanded Cassie. Suddenly the scars on her face seemed to stand out more lividly than ever. ‘If you mean would I want to see him then the answer is no. I never want to see him again. I can’t help it—he left us when we were all at our most vulnerable and quite honestly, Lara, I don’t think I can ever forgive him for that.’

  Consuela! Andres awoke with a start. She was right there with him, beside him in the bed. She had come back to him. With a surge of passion and emotion he turned to her, ready to gather her up into his arms, only to find the space beside him was empty. With a low moan of anguish he collapsed back onto his pillows. It had been a dream like all the others, but this one had seemed even more real than most. He had seen her—her melting, tantalising smile, her mane of glossy black hair, her long, tanned limbs as she had danced away from him on a sunlit beach, always just out of his reach. He could even smell her perfume, that heady, exotic scent she always wore, and if he concentrated really hard he could feel the soft texture of her skin beneath his hands and hear her voice as she called his name when he made love to her. But she was no longer there. Consuela had gone and would never be coming back.

  He lay for a while staring up at the ceiling, watching the patterns made by a streetlight outside and remembering how it had once been when Consuela had been alive and they had lived what must have seemed to many a charmed life among the rich young professionals in Buenos Aires. But that was over now and he was here in London at the start of what was supposed to be the building of a new life. Maybe his friends were right. Perhaps it was time to move on—if only someone could show him how.

  Turning his head, he looked at the digital clock beside his bed and saw that it was three-thirty. Knowing he wouldn’t go back to sleep straight away, he pressed the switch on the bedside lamp, threw back the covers, swung his legs to the floor and stood up. He always slept naked and, reaching for a towelling bath robe on a hook on the back of the door, he struggled into it then padded out of his bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of milk. Taking the glass to the window, he raised the blind and stood looking out at the dark shapes in the garden below. It was raining yet again and somehow the sight of rivulets of water on the window-panes depressed him even more, and he found himself wondering if the London weather would ever get much better.

  As the thought crossed his mind he remembered that when he had voiced a similar concern to Lara, saying he missed the hot sun and blue skies of his homeland, her reply had been, ‘We have blue skies too—just give it time.’ As his thoughts turned to Lara he found himself hoping he had done the right thing in mentioning the job at the Roseberry and arranging for her to have an interview the following day. He had felt sorry for her when he had heard her ask for more hours and be told that there were none and once again had found himself wondering about her circumstances—the fact that she had spoken of children yet wore no wedding ring. Was she a single parent, struggling to raise a family? She had seemed pleased if not eager when he had mentioned the job to her. He only hoped she wouldn’t find it too much—her job at St Joseph’s, her family commitments and the travelling to and from this new position. If, of course, she got through the interview and satisfied not only himself but his two partners that she was the right person for the job.

  At last he turned from the window and made his way back to his bedroom, his dreams of earlier banished now to the shadows. Even though before he switched out the bedside light he glanced, as he always did, at the framed photograph of Consuela by his bed, his last thoughts before sleep claimed him again were of Lara and the way her green eyes had shone when he’d told her of the job at the Roseberry.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LARA didn’t really like the London Underground. It wasn’t that she didn’t recognise the necessity of its invaluable system of travelling around London, but the simple fact of being beneath ground, of that sinking feeling she experienced every time she stood on the escalator that carried her down into the very bowels of the earth, disturbed her.

  She’d been the same as a child when her parents had taken her and Cassie to the caves at Cheddar Gorge. Cassie had loved it but all Lara had experienced had been panic while they’d been underground, and then tremendous relief when they had finally stepped out into the fresh air and the warmth of sunshine had touched her face again.

  Perhaps, she thought now, sandwiched between an enormous woman with dozens of carrier bags and a youth in a hooded jacket who chewed gum incessantly and seemed to have a small radio glued to his ear, if she got this job there might be a bus she could catch to the Roseberry from the main line station at Waterloo and she would be able to avoid the Underground altogether. For one wild moment she had even considered the possibility of driving into town that day but had just as quickly dismissed the idea when she considered the problem of parking. She’d had to change at Embankment and take the Circle Line to Sloane Square, and as she waited for her station she found herself wondering for the umpteenth time if she was making a huge mistake in going f
or this interview.

  It had been kind of Andres to consider her, knowing how desperate she was for more hours, but she still wasn’t entirely certain that cosmetic surgery was the type of work she wanted to do, even though she had defended the situation to Cassie. On the other hand, they really did need the extra money, so maybe it was simply a case of waiting to see what the place was like and whether or not she actually got through the interview and was offered the job.

  Moments later she had reached her stop and after a few minutes on the escalator—somehow so much more exhilarating going up than going down—she stepped out onto the street and the noise and bustle of the London traffic. It was a cold, blustery day but at least it wasn’t raining, and there were even short bursts of sunshine as the winter clouds raced across a pale blue sky. Lara paused outside the station to get her bearings then instinctively tightened the belt of her white trench coat and lifted the collar against the wind before setting off to her left in the direction of the clinic.

  She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, she only knew she was surprised when a little later she found the Roseberry Clinic. It was a modern building, and as she stared at it Lara realised that subconsciously she had been expecting something older. Cleverly designed to fit in with the neighbouring buildings, it nevertheless appeared to have been purpose-built with its mellow brickwork, huge rounded windows, glass-fronted entrance and immaculate surrounding gardens.

  At last, taking a deep breath, Lara made her way up to the front entrance where she entered through a revolving glass door. The welcome warmth of the reception area hit her immediately and somehow the whole area, with its comfortable armchairs and low tables with smoked glass tops, its thick pile carpet, the paintings on the walls and the elegant staff behind the reception desk, was more reminiscent of a luxurious hotel foyer than a medical clinic.

  ‘May I help you?’ One of the two receptionists looked up as Lara approached the desk.

  ‘I’ve come for an interview,’ Lara replied. ‘My name is Lara Gregory.’

  ‘If you would like to take a seat for a moment,’ the young woman replied, ‘I will inform the board that you are here.’