The Latin Surgeon

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘Can I take it that you don’t wish this partner to be found for you?’ she asked. He stared at her and although now her expression was perfectly serious, he thought, just for a moment, that he detected a hint of mischief in her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that’s absolutely right. Should I ever feel the need to find a partner, I would do so on my own, but until that time I don’t need anyone else to do it for me.’

  ‘So how can I help?’

  ‘It’s a party,’ he said, ‘a party for Valentine’s Day. And unless I can say I am taking someone with me, I know Annabel will have someone lined up for me.’

  ‘Annabel?’ asked Lara.

  ‘Yes. Theo’s wife,’ he replied.

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘She does it all the time,’ he went on miserably. ‘It wasn’t too bad at first but I’m really fed up with it now. I don’t know where she finds some of these women—she seems to think they are my type and they most definitely are not. Anyway, it leaves me in the situation of having to let them down gently after the event. They all seem to think because we share one date we are on the way to a full-scale affair.’

  ‘Why does she do it—Annabel?’ asked Lara curiously.

  ‘I think she feels sorry for me,’ he said.

  ‘Why should she feel sorry for you?’ Lara frowned.

  He was silent for a long moment during which the shrieks of laughter from a group of young women at an adjoining table jarred his nerves, unsettling him. ‘My wife died five years ago,’ he explained at last, ‘and since then I really haven’t felt the need to look for another relationship.’ He paused again, aware that Lara had grown very still and was watching him carefully, as if she was oblivious to those around them. ‘Annabel and some of my other friends seem to think differently,’ he went on after a moment. ‘They seem convinced that I can never be truly happy again until I find someone else.’

  ‘And what do you think?’ asked Lara quietly.

  He shrugged. ‘I know I could never find anyone to take Consuela’s place,’ he replied, ‘so really I can’t see much point in trying.’ He paused, then added firmly, ‘In fact, if I’m really honest, I don’t want anyone to take her place.’

  ‘And where do I come into all this?’ she asked leaning back slightly in her chair.

  Andres took a deep breath. ‘I was wondering,’ he said, ‘if you would consider accompanying me to this Valentine dinner party—no strings attached, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Lara. She spoke seriously, but for the fraction of a second Andres once again had the feeling that she might be mocking him—ever so gently, but mocking nevertheless. He found himself wishing he’d never started this particular conversation.

  ‘Yes, all right,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘Yes…?’ He stared at her, not convinced that she was actually agreeing to anything.

  ‘Yes, I’ll come with you.’

  ‘You’ll…?’ He stared at her, unable to believe what she had said. When she smiled and nodded, it was his turn to lean back in his chair. ‘Thank you, Lara,’ he said, and he knew there was a note of relief in his voice and that she must have heard it. ‘That’s great and it’s really very good of you.’

  ‘Not at all.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘It’s the least I can do. Like I say, it’ll be a way I can show my gratitude for the job.’

  He could hardly believe it. He’d asked her on the spur of the moment, not thinking she’d agree, especially under the circumstances which were a bit bizarre to say the least. Yet here she was, not only apparently understanding his reasons for asking her but also agreeing to his request. And suddenly he found himself actually looking forward to the evening, which until that moment he had been dreading. He was looking forward to telling Annabel that he would be bringing someone with him, he was looking forward to seeing Theo’s face when he realised that his partner for the evening was Lara, someone whom Theo himself had described as a stunner. But more than any of those reasons, he found that he was looking forward to actually taking Lara there and having her at his side.

  ‘Tell me about your wife,’ said Lara suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.

  He was surprised, shocked even. No one, but no one ever mentioned Consuela these days. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken about her. ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked warily.

  ‘What was her name?’ Lara leaned forward slightly and he caught the summer meadow scent. ‘And how did you meet?’

  He hesitated, took another mouthful of wine, then said, ‘Her name was Consuela.’

  ‘What a lovely name.’ Lara nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  ‘We more or less grew up together in our home town of Cordoba—our families were friends. We trained at medical school together after I’d finished my education in this country. Everyone expected us to marry.’

  ‘And you didn’t disappoint them?’

  ‘No.’ A far-away look came into his eyes as momentarily, in his thoughts, he returned to the country of his birth. ‘We were married by the bishop in the cathedral in Cordoba. Afterwards we lived in Buenos Aires, where we both had jobs in the city’s main hospital.’

  ‘Did you have any children?’ Lara asked gently.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘We both wanted children but it never happened—we were on the verge of seeking reasons for this when…when Consuela fell sick.’

  ‘What was it?’ asked Lara.

  Again he was surprised by her bluntness—no one had ever questioned him about his wife in this way. Usually when they heard she was dead they simply mumbled that they were sorry and never returned to the subject again. ‘Leukaemia,’ he said. ‘She had the best available treatment—I even took her to Scandinavia to a clinic that was pioneering a new treatment, but it was no good…’ He felt his throat tighten as those terrible, dark days came back in sudden, gut-wrenching detail. ‘She died at the family home in Cordoba.’

  ‘Is she buried there?’ asked Lara.

  He threw her a sharp glance, once more startled by her question, but all he saw in her face was compassion, not curiosity. He swallowed. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘We held the funeral at the cathedral…’

  ‘Where you were married.’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed, ‘where we were married.’ He swallowed, trying to control his emotions, then after a moment he was able to continue. ‘All I could see that day was a sea of white lilies…then…Consuela was laid to rest in the family plot in Cordoba.’

  ‘Tell me what she was like,’ Lara went on. ‘What did she look like?’

  Andres drew in his breath sharply, not sure he was able to continue with this particular turn the conversation had taken.

  ‘Was she dark and Spanish-looking—like you?’ Lara went on relentlessly.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘yes, she was. She was tall and very slim with long black hair and very dark eyes.’ He paused, considering, as memories flooded his mind. ‘She had the most incredible laugh—infectious, you know what I mean? But she could also be fiery—she was hot-blooded and very passionate about issues that concerned her. She loved animals,’ he went on, warming to the theme now. ‘Her family kept horses just as mine did and we would ride out together across the pampas…’ He paused again, remembering. ‘She also liked to dance,’ he went on after a moment. ‘She loved the tango which, of course, is our national dance, and the salsa.’

  ‘She sounds a lovely lady,’ said Lara.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘she was…’ He trailed off, finding it impossible to continue any further.

  ‘So these friends of yours—did they know Consuela?’ Lara sounded curious now.

  ‘Well,’ he considered, ‘Theo and Annabel had met her certainly, but they didn’t know her very well. I met Theo at school and later we were at Oxford together. They came to our wedding…’

  ‘So they must surely know that these women they try to pair you up with are nothing like Consuela and consequently not your type?’

  �
�You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ He pulled a face. ‘But nothing seems to deter them, especially Annabel. Still, maybe this time if you come with me it will be different. At least it will prove to them that I am perfectly capable of finding my own partner and don’t need any help from them.’ He paused as a thought suddenly struck him. ‘I hope I won’t be intruding on anyone?’

  Lara frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, there isn’t some irate boyfriend of yours who will get the wrong end of the stick?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly, ‘there’s no one like that in my life at the moment.’

  He was aware of a surge of something at her words—whether relief or pleasure, he wasn’t sure. ‘I can hardly believe that,’ he said. ‘I felt sure there would be someone.’

  ‘There was,’ she admitted slowly, staring down into her glass.

  ‘What happened?’ he said gently.

  ‘It ended.’ She shrugged. ‘These things happen.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, noting a little flash of pain in her eyes.

  ‘I guess he simply couldn’t cope with my domestic arrangements,’ she said. ‘Let’s face it, it isn’t every man who could accept an invalid sister and three young children, is it?’

  ‘No,’ Andres agreed. ‘I guess that would put intolerable strain on any relationship, especially if you weren’t heavily committed in the first place.’ He hoped he sounded sympathetic but privately he thought it must have been a pretty shallow sort of man who had been unable to cope with a few of life’s problems. ‘Who was he?’ he asked after a moment, wondering if it might be someone from St Joseph’s.

  ‘A doctor,’ she replied. ‘He was Swedish; his name was Sven. I thought I was in love with him at the time. Now I doubt it was love.’

  ‘Does he work at St Joseph’s?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ Lara shook her head and again he saw that little flash of pain and knew she had been hurt. ‘He’s gone back to Sweden.’

  ‘I see.’ He paused. ‘Can I get you another drink?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I really should be getting home.’

  ‘In that case…’ He stood up. ‘I’ll walk you back to your car.’

  As they returned to the car park of the Roseberry and he saw Lara into her car and watched her drive away, Andres was aware of a lifting of his spirits. When he tried to analyse the reason he came to the conclusion that it was as if by merely talking about Consuela to someone who hadn’t actually known her, a corner of that curtain of darkness that had fallen over him on the day she had died and had remained there ever since had lifted, ever so slightly, and had allowed in the light.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘BUT what in the world am I going to wear?’ It was the following day and Lara had just told Cassie about the Valentine’s Day party. Cassie predictably showed great interest.

  ‘I told you, didn’t I?’ she said, clasping her hands together. ‘I knew he was interested in you.’

  ‘Don’t get too excited,’ Lara replied dryly. ‘It isn’t quite what you think.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cassie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s only asked me to keep his friends from dragging along some other woman for him.’

  ‘But would they do that?’ Cassie seemed bemused at the idea.

  ‘Apparently it appears they’ve done it before.’ Lara chuckled. ‘On several occasions. And as far as Andres is concerned, these women simply aren’t his type.’

  ‘Which suggests that he considers that you are,’ Cassie mused slowly.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Lara replied lightly, although her heart missed a beat at such a possibility. ‘It merely means that this way he can take someone he already knows…’

  ‘What sort of party is it?’ asked Cassie.

  ‘Do you know? I’m not really sure.’ Lara shook her head. ‘I was so amazed when he asked me that I forgot to ask.’

  ‘I think you need to find out.’

  ‘To be honest, it won’t make a lot of difference.’ Lara sighed. ‘It’ll have to be something I’ve already got. I can’t afford anything new and that’s that.’

  ‘I have that little black dress I bought for that last work do of Dave’s and never wore because we didn’t go…’ Cassie trailed off.

  ‘I couldn’t wear that,’ Lara protested quickly, remembering that Cassie hadn’t gone because of her accident.

  ‘I don’t see why not.’ Cassie sniffed. ‘It cost me an arm and a leg at the time and it’s been sitting there in the wardrobe ever since, and I’m not likely to wear it in the foreseeable future.’

  ‘You never know,’ Lara replied stoutly, but Cassie cut her short.

  ‘Come on, Lara, be realistic. When am I likely to go anywhere to wear anything like that again? The dress hasn’t dated, it’s a classic design, and you and I are more or less the same size. Check up and make sure it’s appropriate…’

  ‘I’m sure it would be,’ Lara murmured.

  ‘You never know—it could be a fancy-dress party or something, being Valentine’s Day. But if it isn’t, I would be only too happy for you to wear it.’

  ‘Thanks, Cass.’ Lara gave her sister a quick hug. ‘That’s really kind of you.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Cassie, ‘it’ll be nice to do something for you for a change.’ She paused. ‘What I don’t understand is why should Andres’s friends feel the need to keep trying to find a partner for him?’

  ‘They feel sorry for him apparently.’

  ‘Why?’ Cassie frowned.

  ‘Remember I told you his wife died?’ said Lara. ‘Well, it appears his friends seem to think he should have got over her death by now and should be moving on—they think that by finding the right partner for him they would be helping him to do that.’

  ‘And has he got over her death yet?’

  Lara shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. I guess I don’t know him well enough to say for sure, but by talking to him I got the impression her death is still pretty raw for him.’

  ‘How long is it since she died?’

  ‘Five years, but they grew up together, were childhood sweethearts, in fact, so she had always been an important part of his life. I rather got the impression that he hasn’t been able to talk about her since her death.’

  ‘You mean because he finds it too painful or because people avoid the issue?’ Cassie’s frown deepened.

  ‘A bit of both really, I think,’ Lara replied. ‘I don’t think he wants anyone else in his life. If someone has been such an important part of your life as his wife was, I guess you can’t just blot them out.’

  ‘I know,’ said Cassie quietly. ‘I’m finding that.’

  ‘Oh, Cass, I’m sorry.’ Lara stared at her sister and saw her face crumple around the edges of her scars. ‘You mean Dave?’

  Cassie nodded. ‘Most of the time I’m still so angry with him that I don’t want to talk about him, but at other times memories creep back in—happy memories, good times we had with the children, that sort of thing—and, well, it’s very hard.’

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ Lara replied gently. She hesitated. ‘Has Callum said any more about him being at the school?’ she asked after a moment.

  Cassie shook her head. ‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘although I did think I saw him myself a couple of days ago. It was only a back view and I couldn’t be sure…’

  ‘Do you think he wants to make contact?’ asked Lara.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Cassie shook her head and Lara saw a single tear run down the side of her face. ‘I’m sure he must be missing the children—he thought the world of them, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I know he did,’ Lara agreed.

  ‘Anyway.’ Cassie stood up briskly. ‘That’s another story. We were talking about you and this wonderful new man that’s come into your life.’

  ‘Cassie, it’s hardly that,’ Lara protested. ‘I’m simply doing him a favour, that’s all—a favour in return for him getting me the j
ob at the Roseberry.’

  ‘Yes, all right,’ said Cassie, moving to the door. ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘Annabel? It’s Andres.’

  ‘Andres! How are you? Theo and I were only talking about you last night, darling.’

  ‘Nice things, I hope?’

  ‘But of course—always nice things about you.’

  ‘That’s comforting. Annabel, about this party of yours for Valentine’s Day…’

  ‘Yes? Oh, darling, don’t say you aren’t coming.’

  ‘No, on the contrary.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that. Why, I was only saying to Theo that we don’t see nearly enough of you. Now, listen, for this party—’

  ‘Actually, Annabel,’ he interrupted before she could go any further, ‘I phoned to make a request about the party.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes, not to say that I wasn’t able to come but rather to ask you if I could bring someone with me.’ In the silence that followed his request Andres could picture Annabel’s face perfectly, her expression a mixture of amazement and possibly irritation at having to rearrange her seating plan and maybe even the guest list itself.

  ‘But of course, darling,’ she said at last, as her years of training at being the perfect hostess came rapidly to the fore. ‘We will be absolutely delighted. But tell me, who is she? Is she anyone we know? I must say, you’ve kept very quiet about this.’

  ‘Her name is Lara.’

  ‘What a lovely name,’ Annabel replied. ‘Shades of Doctor Zhivago and all that.’

  ‘Yes, quite,’ he agreed, ‘but I don’t think you would know her, although Theo has met her.’

  ‘Really! He never said. I can see I will have to have words with that husband of mine. What is Lara’s surname?’

  ‘Gregory,’ Andres replied, wondering as he said it if he was doing the right thing in catapulting Lara into something she might not enjoy.

  ‘Gregory?’ mused Annabel. ‘Any relation to Sir Michael Gregory?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Andres replied, ‘but it’s all right for me to bring her to the party?’

  ‘Of course, it is,’ Annabel replied. ‘We shall be enchanted to meet her.’