There was something intimate about picking a flat together. She had supposed people spent weeks, months even, looking for the right place to live. And she wasn’t going to live in it. This was to be Toby’s home, with Charlie. It didn’t really concern her. Still, Toby was obviously interested in what she had to say. Her view mattered. It made her feel as if she was one of two partners. No! She was just helping a friend who was flat hunting.
He took her to a tree-lined area about ten minutes drive from the hospital. Quite a few doctors and nurses lived here; it was both handy and pleasant. ‘Good nursery and primary schools nearby,’ said Toby. He had obviously done his homework.
The minute she got inside the flat she fell in love with it. It was at the rear of a small red-brick block. The first thing she saw in the living room were French windows that opened out to a small walled garden.
‘The garden’s private to the flat,’ said Toby, following her glance. ‘But you have to keep the grass cut.’
‘Toby! You could cut that grass with a pair of scissors. But, look, the garden will get all the afternoon sun. And it’ll be a wonderful place for Charlie.’
‘I’ll have to start thinking about things like that. Let’s have a look at the rest of the place.’
Annie thought it would be ideal for a family with a small child. The kitchen opened straight on to a small dining area which led into the living room. Easy to keep an eye on a child while you were cooking. There were three bedrooms, one en suite and a large bathroom.
‘What d’you think of it, Annie?’
‘I think it’s marvellous,’ she told him. ‘I doubt you could do better. Aren’t people supposed to spend months looking for something like this?’
‘They are. I’m glad you like it because I like it too. Do you think you would be happy here?’
‘It’s a lovely flat, but I can’t really answer that,’ she said calmly. Because I won’t be here with you. It’ll be you and Charlie. Maybe a nanny. Not me. Not the right thing to say. Instead she said, ‘It’s not really my business but there’s the old question that we all have to ask ourselves. Can you afford it?’
‘No problem. I have a little bit saved up.’ Toby wandered around, opening cupboards, running taps, peering in the kitchen range. Annie thought he was like a little boy with a new toy. Then she realised she felt exactly the same way.
‘Lovely en suite bedroom,’ Annie said. ‘And all those built-in cupboards. You’ll be happy there.’
‘I doubt it. If I have a nanny living in, she’ll want her own bathroom. This would be the best place for her.’
‘Of course,’ said Annie. ‘Well, I hope you get it and you’re happy here.’
Toby drove her back to his own, now quite pokey-seeming flat. The flat they had seen was fine but he felt depressed. He had seen Annie’s initial delight, and for a second had envisaged all three of them living there together. A family: Charlie, Annie, and himself. But she’d made it very clear that she was not a part of his plans. And he had to remember that.
A week later and Annie was enjoying her rest.
Toby had told her that she was looking tired, that she needed a complete change. ‘But I’m happy here with you and Charlie.’
‘You may be happy with me and Charlie. But you’re also trying to study and hold down a full-time job as a doctor. And it’s a lot to do.’
‘But I can do it. You do.’
‘I have to, you don’t. Now, I’ve got the same two days off as you so there’s no trouble that way. Jack and Miranda have offered to help with Charlie so I suggest that you go and stay a couple of nights with your parents. You’ll come back so much brighter.’
And so she had accepted. She enjoyed being with her parents. They went for a couple of walks together, but mostly she just read and ate. It was what she needed, a change from the emotional conflict that she felt whenever she was with Toby.
One odd thing. Her mother never once questioned her about Toby. When Annie mentioned his name, or Charlie’s, her mother smiled gently and moved on to something else. Most odd. As if her mother was serenely confident that all was well in the relationship. Well, perhaps she had accepted that there was nothing serious between them.
Six weeks had passed since Annie had moved in with Toby. In another two weeks, unless something drastic happened, Annie was going to leave. And her faint hope that Toby might realise what he would be missing was slowly dying.
A couple of hours before she was ready to go home, there was a phone call from a distressed sounding Miranda. ‘Have you heard from Toby, Annie?’
‘No. Miranda, is anything wrong? With Toby, with Charlie?’ She couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice.
‘They’re both fine. Well, they’re not ill. Annie, I’m at his mother’s house now. Jack and Carly are here. Jack’s just sent Toby home with Charlie. He said that Toby had done enough and if he stayed much long here he wouldn’t be able to function as a doctor or a father.’
‘Function? Why not?’
‘Toby’s mother is dying Annie. You know she had another relapse three weeks ago. She’s only got days—hours perhaps—to live. Toby’s been at the house with her the past two days. He’s stayed up with her two nights. He’s done more for her than any of us.’
‘He didn’t even tell me that she was ill! He sent me away. And I would have liked to help.’
‘Toby can keep secrets. You know that.’
‘Too right I do. Thanks for telling me, Miranda. I’ll set off at once.’
‘Toby needs you. Trouble is he doesn’t know it.’
Her parents seemed to think it was quite proper for her to set off a bit earlier. Annie explained about Toby’s mother and her own mother nodded understanding. Then, as Annie packed, she made sandwiches and handed the pack to her as she left. ‘Enough there for you and Toby,’ she said. ‘Please, tell him we’re both very sorry.’
‘I will,’ said Annie. ‘Thanks, Ma.’ Then she drove down to meet him.
It felt as if this was her home, she thought as she walked into his little flat. But it wasn’t. Or it wouldn’t be for much longer.
She found him sitting in the living room, looking down at the sleeping Charlie. ‘Hi Toby, I’m home. How are you?’
‘I’m surviving,’ he said. He was barefooted, dressed only in a creased pair of jeans and an ancient T-shirt. He looked tired; there were drawn lines round his eyes. He needed a shave; his hair was more unruly than ever—probably needed cutting. And then he smiled and she felt a great rush of emotion that she could just not describe. Whatever else he was, Toby was always gorgeous.
‘Toby, I’ve just heard about your mother. Miranda phoned me. Why didn’t you tell me she was so ill? I would have liked to stay here, perhaps help you.’
‘You do enough for me, Annie. I didn’t want to impose on you. In fact, that’s one reason I wanted you to go away.’
She thought of telling him that she’d quite like to be imposed on, but then decided not to bother. First of all a quick look at Charlie. He was sleeping, looked peaceful. ‘Has Charlie had his—’ she started.
‘Charlie has been looked after like a king. He’s fine. Miranda will be a wonderful mother.’
‘I’m sure she will. Toby, when did you last eat? Do you want a drink of any sort?’
‘I’m not hungry or thirsty.’ But he looked both.
‘You’ve had a hard couple of days,’ she said. ‘You need to relax somehow, even if it doesn’t seem possible.’
He was sitting again, leaning forward to look at Charlie. She decided this wasn’t a normal situation and she could touch him if she wanted. Just as a doctor, of course. She walked behind him, stretched out her hands. She hadn’t touched him, not really, not since that time they’d gone to bed and—stop thinking and concentrate!
She felt the muscles at the back of his neck. ‘Toby, you’re as tense as a drum skin! Now, just sit there, try to relax and don’t think of anything in particular.’
She stood behind him,
put her hands on the great trapezius muscle that ran from shoulders to neck. And pressed in her thumbs. He grimaced in pain.
‘These muscles should be relaxed,’ she told him. ‘I’ll just work on them for five minutes.’
She wasn’t a qualified masseuse. But she had seen how quickly, how easily a massage could relax someone, how it could bring relief from pain. So she had asked a friendly masseuse to give her a demonstration, a few tips.
The muscles of his neck, shoulders, upper back were tight. She worked on them carefully, trying to promote the blood flow, trying to ease them back into relaxation. It was hard work. It felt as if she were wrestling with him. But slowly she began to feel a result. And she could hear or feel his breathing. It slowed as she calmed him.
‘That feels so good. Annie, is there no end to your talents?’
‘You’ll never know.’
It had just slipped out. She hadn’t meant to say that. Still, it was said now. And it was the sad truth.
She finished her massage, came round the couch to sit next to him again. He rubbed his neck, shook his head. ‘I feel so much better. What now?’
‘I suspect food. My mother sent you some sandwiches and I’ll make you some tea. Just sit there.’
He did as she’d suggested. She ate sandwiches and drank tea with him and he appeared to relax even more. And then he started to talk. She wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or talking to himself.
‘I’ve spent a lot of time just holding my mother’s hand,’ he said. ‘She hasn’t said anything much for quite a while now, but she lies there and I think she can hear. I hope she can understand. I really wanted to tell her about my child. But I couldn’t, could I? Not at this late stage. So I rambled on about the past and about our holidays and I hope she heard me. And perhaps in time I—’
His phone rang. He didn’t move, just looked at it. The phone rang again. He continued to stare at it then turned to look at Annie. ‘Only one call I’m expecting tonight,’ he said. And he lifted the receiver.
‘Hi, Jack.’ He listened. ‘OK. Well, I’m glad about that… I’ll come straight round and… if you’re sure…’ There was a longer break then, and Annie saw him listening intently. ‘It was what we knew would happen but it’s still hard. Love to Carly, Jack, oh, and love to you too.’ He replaced the receiver.
‘My mother has just died,’ he said calmly to Annie.
Annie lay awake long after they had gone to bed. She had moved Charlie into her room to let Toby sleep, and the flat was quiet. Unable to sleep, she got up and went into the kitchen to make herself a drink. It was then that she heard sobbing. Toby.
Quietly she tiptoed into his room. Having never seen him like this before, it broke her heart. Wanting to comfort him, to absorb some of his pain, she sat on his bed and wrapped her arms around him.
As she held him, she could feel the muscles underneath his thin T-shirt, could feel his body start to relax. And there was his smell—part Toby, part the shampoo in his hair, part the masculine scented soap he had used. And the tiniest smell of baby. She lifted her hand, ran it through his hair. It was good to feel it running through her fingers.
What was happening? Suddenly there seemed to be too much of him, as if he had grown. No matter how hard she hugged him, she couldn’t somehow get all of him. His hands were resting gently on her shoulders; it was she who was pulling him to her. And then he kissed her.
His arms tightened round her as their bodies pressed together, and she could feel his need for her, hard and urgent. She knew he wanted her now. And she knew she wanted him.
She took her arms from round him, moved back slightly. He released her at once, but she thought she heard him sigh as he did so. ‘Toby, is this what you want?’
He shook his head as if puzzled. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I think I’ve done you enough damage. But I do want you. I want you in my bed, I want you desperately. But, Annie, that isn’t the commitment that you want, that you deserve. I’m thinking of myself, of the comfort I’d find in your arms. I’m not thinking of you. And I should. ‘
They were so close together and yet not touching.
She knew that according to his own values he was an honourable man and so she knew that no way would he touch her again unless she made it clear that that was what she wanted.
She thought. She knew that what she was considering was absolute madness and that she would probably regret it for months to come. And she couldn’t decide if she was doing this to bring comfort to a friend or to serve her own desperate needs.
She did it so seldom. But there were times when it was good to be reckless.
Very calmly, she told him, ‘We had something together once and that isn’t coming back. I accept that. But if we can’ just have one time together, totally without commitment on either side, then that’s what I want. Just once, Toby. And you know I mean that. Don’t you?’
‘Yes, I know you mean it,’ he whispered.
They stayed in silence for a second longer. Then he reached for her, and Annie knew she had made the right decision.
He kissed her, his strong arms holding her to him, making her feel the length of his body, his now more than obvious urgency thrusting against her thigh. And she revelled in his need for her, knew that he had a thirst that only she could slake. A thirst that she shared.
The kiss lasted for seconds, hours, who could tell? Then slowly, deliberately he eased off her dressing gown and slid her nightie over her head. The garments were cast aside. Then she moaned as he bent his head to kiss each breast, flick his tongue against each firm upright nipple. This was too much!
For a moment again they gazed at each other and she could see the passion burning in his eyes, even hear the depth of his breathing. Then he turned to pull off his T-shirt and boxers, tossing them carelessly aside. Now they were both naked. She felt entirely happy, entirely unashamed. This all was for Toby. And she gloried in the fire that she could see in his eyes.
She reached for his shoulders, pulled him on top of her. ‘Now Toby,’ she panted. ‘I can’t wait. Please, Toby, now, I want you now.’
He reacted to her desperation, obviously feeling the same himself. ‘Yes, now,’ he muttered. ‘Yes, I want you too, sweetheart.’
Then he stiffened, moved away from her. ‘Toby, what’s wrong?’
He swung off the bed. ‘Something I need,’ he said, ‘something we both need.’
He felt for his wallet, took something from it and there was the soft crackle of paper.
Good Lord, she’d completely forgotten! Thank goodness Toby hadn’t.
It only took seconds and he was back with her. No, he was back on her. One last long tormenting kiss and his body slowly, easily slid into hers. She shut her eyes in ecstasy, feeling a sense of completion, feeling that now truly they were together. ‘Oh, Toby,’ she whispered. ‘Now, please, now.’
Both were too far gone to hold back now. He plunged deeper into her, gathered her to him; she felt his body in hers, next to hers, around hers, they were as one. And they moved together in a harmony, to a crescendo that would not be halted. She felt her world melting, felt that there was nowhere but here and nothing but the two of them. Fused together as one.
They lay there, panting, happy. Then she pulled the bedclothes over them, switched out the bedside light. He gathered her into his arms and for a while they both slept. An hour or two later Annie woke up and saw that Toby was awake too. So they sat up in bed together and talked about his mother.
‘It’s no shock, you know we were expecting it,’ Toby said quietly. ‘I offered to go round and help with arrangements and so on, but Jack said if I insisted on going in to work he’d rather have me fit at the clinic tomorrow.’
Annie was horrified. ‘You’re going in to work?’
‘I’m needed there.’
‘Toby, you’ve just lost your mother. Is going to work really what you should be doing?’
‘I deal with things my own way.’
Annie s
ighed. ‘You don’t deal with things, you repress them.’
‘It’s the way I learned to cope.’
She shook her head. ‘You didn’t learn how to cope, Toby. You learned how to push all emotion away, to feel nothing. You’re not a person, you’re a robot. You’re a robot with a big smile painted on your face. Tonight was the first time I’ve ever seen human emotion from you.’
For a moment she thought she had got through to him. There was just a flicker of reaction in his face, but then it was blank again, with just that irritating half-smile. ‘I really do find emotions a bit too much trouble,’ he said.
Annie stood. ‘I’m not needed here. I’m going to my room,’ she said. ‘But before I do, Toby, let’s get one thing straight. I’ve thought, hoped, recently that something might grow again between us. Foolish of me. I’ve learned more about you and it’s all been a waste. Toby, I could never love a man like you.’
‘Probably very wise of you,’ he said.
CHAPTER NINE
There had to be a reconciliation of some sort. For a start there was Charlie to be thought of. She had made love to Toby of her own free will, knowing full well there was little chance of anything more happening between them. He needed her help, especially now. And she knew his mother’s death was hitting him hard. So Annie decided that it was she who should make the first overtures. When she had calmed down.
Unable to stay in the flat, she decided to go out for an early morning walk. She couldn’t sort out her thoughts: work out what she felt about Toby and what she should do next. With something of a shock she remembered her last words to him. ‘I had thought that something might grow between us.’ And ‘I could never love a man like you.’ Well, what she had wanted had been an open secret. He must have known. Still, perhaps for a while they could revert to their previous uneasy alliance.
She set off back towards his flat. And as she neared it, she had to admit to herself that it was no use. She and Toby would not get together. She should cut her losses. In two weeks she’d get as far from Toby Sinclair as possible. And America would be ideal.
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