‘I’ll be fine. Thanks, Connor. You’re a pretty good friend.’
Friend? Friend? As Connor strode between the houses, he realised he was perilously close to not settling for friend for much longer. It was something he was going to have to fight.
The days slipped by. Zoe was becoming used to her new routine. She looked down with dismay, though, as she stood on the bathroom scales after her morning shower. She had put on five pounds since coming to Buckley! She walked to her bedroom, slipped off the towel and stretched a tape round her waist. No gain there, good. She looked at her naked body, pinched her hips—perhaps they were a bit fuller. She looked at herself again, as critically as possible, and decided that what she had gained was quite in order. But she was not going to put on any more.
She flushed, catching herself thinking that, apart from anything else, she wouldn’t fit into Connor’s arms if she got any larger. No! She was not dwelling on those few moments when she’d felt wonderfully, gloriously safe. Connor didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want a relationship. So why were the days when she didn’t see him a lot longer than those when she did? And, every time she did see him, there was still that spark. Not a real one any more, but they both knew it was there. And there was always that pleased moment of excitement, that slight increase in her pulse rate that told her the initial attraction hadn’t gone away; it was merely being kept under control. She remembered very well the evening on the patio when they had made their agreement. In the sky above had been Venus. Zoe occasionally wondered if the Goddess of Love was now laughing at the pair of them.
‘Zoe, are you busy?’
‘Hi, Jo. No, just reading up on my patients for this afternoon. Why?’
‘We’ve had an accident case brought in, a woman with a bad cut across her abdomen. She works at the family butchers on the High Street. They’ve been established there since the year dot and I don’t think they’ve ever quite grasped that we aren’t a cottage hospital any more. Anyway, Connor says it’s a clean gash and only needs suturing and he’s happy to deal with it right now himself rather than send her off to Sheffield, but the practice nurses are working flat out this morning, so I wondered if you could do scrub nurse for him?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Zoe immediately. ‘As long as it isn’t going to tread on anyone’s toes. An abdomen cut? How did it happen?’
‘Silly woman was wielding one of those giant knives in a hurry and slipped. Pure accident. You know where to go, don’t you? I’ll tell Connor to expect you. Thanks, love.’
As soon as Zoe stepped into the scrub room she knew that Connor had metamorphosed into Dominant Surgeon. It was a persona she was entirely familiar with from her hospital days, but it was still weird to see the authority settling around him like a cloak, when only yesterday he’d been chasing her son in and out of the paddling pool with a hose.
‘There’s a set of greens in the cupboard,’ he said now. ‘Jo says you’ve done this before.’
‘Lots of times. I was a hospital midwife, Connor. I’ve assisted consultant gynaecologists in any number of emergencies as well as doing normal scrub nurse duties. I can easily help with a simple suturing.’
On the table a white-faced woman was being attended by a practice nurse. There were bloody bandages on her abdomen and a giving set was transferring plasma to her arm.
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Prentiss, you’re in good hands,’ said the nurse. She flashed a smile at Connor and Zoe and hurried back to her clinic.
Connor approached the table. ‘Are you quite sure you want me to treat you, Mrs Prentiss? I know you’ve signed a consent form, but we can still send you to hospital if you’d prefer.’
Mrs Prentiss’s voice was hoarse but she knew what she wanted. ‘And wait in A&E for hours? You do it, Doctor. You did a lovely job on my neighbour’s little girl when she fell and split her lip.’
Connor smiled. Zoe was amused to see that his manner was now a cross between authoritative surgeon and family GP. ‘I’ll do my best for you. Your husband has been told. I expect he’ll be here shortly, but we’ll be finished before then. You’ll need to stay here the rest of the day—maybe overnight. Will that cause any problems?’
‘No. My mother can come round to see to the kids after school.’
‘Then we have nothing to worry about. You have two professionals looking after you and you’re going to be fine.’
Zoe winced when she saw the size of the injury. It would take some skilful suturing to pull it all together. Someone had already laid out the tray of instruments. There was the local anaesthetic, the cutting and curved needles. There were the absorbable sutures used to stitch the deeper layers to help reduce tension, the non-absorbable sutures for the closure of skin wounds.
Connor nodded at her to start, so she took the bowl of antiseptic and carefully washed the injury.
‘I’m going to inject local anaesthetic around the cut, Mrs Prentiss,’ said Connor. ‘It will sting a little but that will be all. You might feel pressure afterwards but no pain.’
Zoe watched as he injected one per cent lignocaine around the cut, then waited for the anaesthetic to take effect.
‘No pain at all? Good, we can start.’
Zoe had sutured herself, particularly after episiotomies, and she had watched consultants suturing, so she could appreciate Connor’s skill. He was good and he was fast. And very, very focused. All his attention was on what he was doing, She wasn’t his scrub nurse any more; she certainly wasn’t his neighbour or tenant. She was simply the pair of hands that gave him whatever he needed. His instructions were crisp but polite. She liked that. They were a working team. She noticed he was taking care to ensure that the scar would be as invisible as possible. A decent-size bikini and Mrs Prentiss would still be able to go to the beach.
It was done in next to no time. Their patient was transferred to a trolley and wheeled to a bed in the small ward next door. The nursing team would be responsible now, though Connor would look in from time to time.
‘Beautiful,’ said Zoe as they tidied up. ‘You are quite something, Dr Maitland.’
He was at the sink, facing away from her. ‘I was quite something,’ he said in a strained voice. ‘Zoe, I hate this bit. I hate coming back to the real world.’
‘I’d say that was natural. You’re the sort of man who won’t do anything unless he does it wholeheartedly. It’s enormously to your credit that you can change from one mindset to another.’
‘It’s not just the mindset; it’s the way of life. It’s the whole “big fish in a very important pond” reduced down to—’
‘—a perfectly fitting cog in a deeply satisfying team. “Reduced down” nothing! Connor, what you did just now won’t ever make the medical journals, but it has saved Mrs Prentiss hours of agony; it’s saved her family upheaval and worry—and don’t you tell me that any surgeon could have done it because any surgeon wasn’t here. You were. You’ve made a difference, Connor. And that’s what we’re about.’
His back was still turned to her. Had he been listening at all? She desperately wanted to give him a hug, but she knew he wouldn’t welcome it. She cast around, aching with sympathy, for something that she could do, some way of boosting his self-esteem. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t help to think of your job in terms of quantity, would it? A top surgeon makes a lifesaving difference to a few patients. A good GP makes hundreds of lives more bearable.’
Still no reply. She gave a silent sigh and finished putting things away.
It was another sunny day. Zoe stepped out of the shower, tucked a towel around herself and opened her bedroom window. She leant her elbows on the sill, breathing in the smell of honeysuckle and lilac. Then straightened up in alarm. Connor, dressed in a baggy grey T-shirt, loose black shorts and flip-flops was loping down the path from his house to hers, looking distinctly irritated.
‘What’s the matter?’ she called, her hand automatically groping for her medical bag.
‘Nothing.’ The annoyance on his
face melted into appreciation, hastily suppressed, as he looked up.
Zoe remembered she was only wearing a towel and pulled it rather tighter.
He turned his face away. ‘Is Jamie awake? I remember you said he was an early riser. I’ve got a video call from my brother in Australia. I told you my mother and father were visiting the family, didn’t I? My dear sister has told them all about my new tenants and they’re wondering rather pointedly if Jamie would like to see the wallabies in the back yard. You really don’t have to say yes.’
‘What’s a wannabe? I want to see!’ Jamie had been playing in the living room and had opened the patio door on seeing Connor outside.
‘Yes, all right, but wait a minute,’ said Zoe. She hurried down the narrow stairs, still clutching the towel around her.
‘Can I see them, Mummy?’ Jamie was hopping from one pyjama-clad leg to the other, excited at something out of the ordinary happening before he’d even had breakfast.
‘It won’t take long,’ said Connor, scooping up the small, wriggling body, ‘and it’ll get them off my back. Sometimes I think they must be starved of news out there. Bless you, Zoe. I’ll carry him across while you get some shoes on.’
‘And some clothes,’ she pointed out. ‘Or they’ll really be on at you!’
Jamie was already settled in front of the computer screen chattering away when she slipped into the study. Connor’s face lightened as he glanced at her T-shirt and shorts. ‘Pity,’ he murmured, and nodded towards a mug of tea on the coffee table.
‘Thank you,’ said Zoe, reaching for it.
‘Look, Mummy, wanna—no—wallabies!’
‘So there are.’ To tell the truth, she was far less enthralled by the wallabies hopping all over Connor’s brother’s garden than she was by Connor himself. Gorgeous muscular legs with a sprinkling of dark hairs; loose, lean body coiled watch-fully in the armchair; tousled hair, unshaven face…It was as much as Zoe could do to keep breathing.
‘You must be Zoe,’ said a motherly woman on the screen. ‘I hope Connor’s made you comfortable in that house.’
‘Of course I have,’ said Connor, an edge to his voice. ‘Zoe’s my tenant and a midwife at the Medical Centre. I’d be daft not to.’
‘Just checking, pet,’ said his mother. ‘We’ve been talking to young Jamie. He’s a credit to you, love.’
‘Thank you.’ Zoe looked at the other people sitting in the garden with mugs or cans of drink. It looked as if it was well into the afternoon there. But there were so many of them! She identified Connor’s brother easily, and his father was just an older version.
‘You work with Connor?’ said his father. ‘How do you manage? I’ve always found him trouble.’
‘Because you always think you know what’s wrong with the NHS and you expect me to put it right.’
‘See, Zoe? He’s always arguing.’
She could feel the tension in Connor, but still Zoe would never have thought that a family could squabble so amiably when they were thousands of miles apart. ‘It’s nice to meet you,’ she said to the screen, ‘but I’ve got to give Jamie breakfast and get ready for work.’
‘Thanks,’ said Connor as he gave Jamie a piggyback to the coach house. ‘You’ve stopped them nagging and provided them with something to talk about. I’m usually a disappointment because nothing happens to me.’
Nothing apart from life-threatening diseases. Aloud, she said, ‘And whose fault is that? Jo’s always saying you don’t go to anything she arranges.’
He slanted her a sardonic look. ‘She arranges things for everyone. I’m into solitary pursuits. Sorry if my family have made you late. They’re a bit overwhelming en masse.’
‘Connor, they were great! Do you know how lucky you are, how envious I am of you? I’d give anything for a family like that!’
He looked at her as if she needed her head examining. ‘I remember you told me your mother lived in Jersey and you hardly saw her. Don’t you ever go down for holidays?’
‘No. Neil wasn’t keen.’ She paused, realising that her life had changed. She was the one in control now. She could afford to spend some of her pay on a trip to Jersey. She didn’t have to do what Neil wanted all the time, clinging on to the illusion of family solidarity. ‘We could go there now, couldn’t we?’ she said slowly. ‘It would give Jamie a chance to get to know them. I’d like that.’ She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Connor.’
He smiled back. And, just for a moment, there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the world.
The vision of Zoe dressed only in a towel stayed with Connor well into morning surgery. He was beginning to think she was a lifesaver. He’d been so irritated when his mother and father had fetched the whole of the family outside to talk to ‘Uncle Connor’. He looked as though he was over his illness, so why should he not be gathered back into the fold? They would never understand how unbearable it was for him to see his nephews and nieces and be so forcibly reminded of a way of life that he would never now have. So he’d been edgy and cross and his mother mentioning Zoe and Jamie and how she’d love to meet them had touched him on the raw.
But then he’d seen her leaning out of her window and had had a purely masculine reaction. He remembered what it was like when he was young, fancy free, and the summer turned hot and all the girls he knew started raising their hemlines. The rest of the video call wasn’t nearly as aggravating.
He was a little taken aback at work, though, when a couple of people mentioned that he seemed to be in a good mood. Was he usually so unapproachable?
He buzzed for his next patient, reading the receptionist’s brief notes. Alice Reynolds, forty-five years old, possibly suffering from gastric flu. She came into the room, pale and tired-looking, apologising for taking up his time.
He reassured her. ‘Having our time taken up is what we’re for.’ He listened to her symptoms as he went though all the standard checks, noticing how she blanched when one of the receptionists went past his part-open door carrying a tray of fresh coffee. ‘How is your health generally?’ he asked, studying her medical history on his computer screen.
‘It’s normally fine. I thought maybe I’d eaten something dodgy—but food poisoning wouldn’t go on this long, would it? That’s why Tim told me to make the appointment. The poor man’s had to cook his own breakfast for nearly a fortnight now. I just can’t face anything fried.’
Connor’s suspicions grew. ‘I see you brought a sample with you. That was a good idea.’
‘Do you know what it might be, then?’
‘Maybe. Can you remember the date of your last period?’
‘No, I’ve been really irregular the last few months. Slowing down, I thought, ready for The Change.’ Then Alice’s mouth dropped open as she realised what he was getting at. ‘Oh, my goodness.’
‘I take it pregnancy is a possibility, then. Are your breasts sore at all?’
‘Um…yes, as a matter of fact, but…Golly, after all these years.’
Connor smiled. ‘It happens surprisingly often. A whole bunch of your remaining eggs get released in one fell swoop. Nature’s way of saying, Get on with it. We can test your urine here and have the result by this evening. Or, if you want to know faster, you can buy a kit from the chemist.’
‘I want you to do it,’ she said straight away. ‘Superstition. I did so many of them when we were younger and they were all negative. I swore I’d never…’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘Oh, dear, my legs have gone all shaky. I can’t move. You’ll know by this evening, you said?’
Connor made an instant decision. ‘Normally, yes. But I do have some sample test kits here, so…’
He gave Alice a gentle examination while the indicator stick matured. ‘It’s positive,’ he said, and watched the tremulous joy spread over her face.
‘Oh, good heavens. Oh, good heavens! We never thought we would be. All these years…It’s a gift. Tell me what to do. I won’t remember anything, but tell me anyway.’
‘I’ll do better than
that. I’ll introduce you to Zoe Hilton, our practice midwife. She can give you the pregnancy handouts that we’ve put together. Did you drive here?’
‘Yes, but I can’t drive back. I’m all of a dither. A child. Oh, golly. I’ll ring Tim to fetch me. He works just up the High Street—he’s a solicitor. Oh, I can’t wait to see his face.’
Connor pushed the phone across. ‘Call him from here. I’ll ask one of the receptionists to bring you a cup of tea while you wait. You can be in shock for nice reasons as well as nasty ones.’
Baby Clinic was finishing as he steered Alice back to the waiting room. He heard Zoe laughing with a couple of the mums and called her over. As she crossed the floor with an enquiring expression on her face, his heart skipped a beat. She might be in regulation uniform with a neatly pinned plait now, but she was just as gorgeous, just as full of life as when he’d seen her this morning with a towel wrapped around her and her hair twisted haphazardly up on her head.
Just as he’d explained about Alice being excited and a bit shocked at finding herself an elderly primigravida, the doors burst open and Tim Reynolds rushed in—closely followed by a broadly smiling Jo.
Tim raced across, having eyes for no one but his wife. ‘Really, Alice? Are we really going to have a baby? After all this time?’
Alice nodded, her eyes bright with happy tears. ‘We really are. Dr Maitland did the test himself. And this is Midwife Hilton, and she’ll give us stuff to read and she’s going to look after us every step of the way. Oh, Tim!’
‘Oh, darling!’
They hugged each other, oblivious to the patients watching with fond smiles, oblivious to the receptionist trying to hand Alice a steaming mug. When they broke off, they were both crying.
‘I’ll be all right now,’ said Alice. She flung her arms round Connor. ‘Thank you so much.’
Village Midwife, Blushing Bride Page 10