Mediterranean Rescue

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Mediterranean Rescue Page 13

by Laura MacDonald


  ‘What?’ She stared at him, because of the chaotic nature of her thoughts unable to take in what he was saying.

  ‘Dominic Hansford,’ he said.

  ‘What about him?’ said Claire guiltily.

  ‘I just said he was settling in well,’ said Mike, taking a mouthful of coffee.

  ‘Oh, yes. Yes, he is,’ Claire replied. ‘The patients like him as well,’ she added, suddenly desperate to make some sort of intelligent contribution.

  ‘People always like an opportunity for a second opinion,’ said Mike with a grimace. ‘And it isn’t only the patients who are keen on him from what I hear—Christopher was saying something about some ridiculous wager the receptionists are having over who is going to be the first one he asks out—have you ever heard such a thing?’

  Claire nodded. ‘I know,’ she said faintly, ‘I heard about that. Poor man, has anyone told him, do you think?’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Mike gave a short laugh. ‘Not that I have any doubts as to his ability to handle it. I would say Dominic Hansford is more than capable of taking care of himself. He’d have to be,’ he went on when Claire remained silent, ‘what with all those disaster situations he finds himself in.’

  ‘Yes, quite,’ said Claire, then hurriedly, in an attempt to change the subject, not wanting to talk further about Dominic and disaster situations, afraid that somehow the conversation might come round to earthquakes in Italy—which was ridiculous really for there was no way that anyone could connect the two—she went on. ‘Tell me, has Emma finished her exams?’

  ‘Yes.’ Mike nodded. ‘It’s Stephen’s turn now. Do you know, he…?’

  Claire felt her mind begin to wander as Mike began holding forth about his son’s recent achievements.

  At the end of the day Claire left the Hargreaves Centre and walked home to her flat. It was a warm summer’s evening, the air humid and close, full of the distinctive aroma of back-garden barbeques, while the sky overhead was filled with the hum of large aircraft bound for distant parts or returning to London.

  Her flat felt hot and stuffy after being shut up all day so the first thing she did on entering was to fling open the windows before running herself a bath. Already she had decided that what was required that evening was a huge effort on her part to put some romance back into her flagging relationship with Mike.

  After soaking in the scented water, she carefully applied make-up, painted her nails and brushed her hair, allowing it to hang loose around her shoulders before slipping into the little black dress with the diamanté shoulder straps, knowing it was Mike’s favourite but at the same time trying to ignore the fact that it was the one she had worn in Rome. She sprayed herself with a light mist of the French perfume she always wore, stepped into a pair of black high-heeled shoes with jewelled ankle straps and was just searching for the beaded bag that matched her dress when her doorbell sounded.

  Mike was early, she thought as she hurried to the intercom. ‘Hello?’ she said, then went on as he answered with a similar greeting, ‘Come on up—I’m nearly ready.’

  She had already decided that they would have a glass of champagne before they went out and on her small, glass-topped coffee-table she’d set a bottle to chill in an ice bucket with two glass flutes alongside, while on her CD player romantic music softly played.

  She paused for a moment and glanced around the room, determined that tonight should be a success—she owed that much to Mike. What would happen after the meal she had no idea but she didn’t want to even think about that now—time enough later to deal with the situation. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted Mike to stay the night but, on the other hand, she didn’t know how she would dissuade him without hurting his feelings. There came a tap on her door and with a little sigh she crossed the room to answer it.

  ‘You’re early, Mike,’ she said as she tugged open the door, then she froze, for instead of Mike, Dominic stood on the threshold.

  She stared at him, speechless with amazement.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his gaze meeting hers for a long moment before he allowed it to roam over her, taking in every detail of her appearance. ‘You look fantastic,’ he said at last, and the naked admiration in his eyes was only too obvious. He was wearing a pair of cream chinos and a rust-coloured shirt while his dark hair, without gel, had begun to curl the way it had in Italy.

  ‘I’m going out,’ she said stupidly at last.

  ‘I rather gathered that,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t imagine you dressed up like that for an evening in front of the telly.’

  ‘I’m going out with Mike…’

  ‘Yes, I assumed that as well.’ He nodded.

  ‘He’ll be here in a moment,’ she babbled. ‘I thought…I thought you were him…’

  ‘Is that why you let me in?’ There was amusement in his dark eyes now. ‘You really should be more careful, Claire,’ he admonished, ‘about who you let into your flat—it could have been anyone.’

  ‘Well, yes, quite,’ she said coolly, then, taking a deep breath, added, ‘Why are you here, Dominic? What do you want?’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you, Claire,’ he said. ‘It’s pretty obvious that we can’t talk at work so I thought it might be better if I came round.’

  ‘Well, as you can see, it isn’t convenient,’ she replied, trying desperately to ignore the fact that her pulse had started to race almost as soon as she had set eyes upon him. ‘I really am going out, Dominic, and Mike will be here at any moment—in fact, I don’t know quite what I would say to him if he was to find you here…’

  ‘What you’re saying is you want me to go, is that right?’ He raised his eyebrows.

  While she struggled to find a suitable reply her phone suddenly began ringing in the flat behind her.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ he asked, leaning sideways to look over her shoulder into the flat.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Leaving him standing in the open doorway, she crossed to the bookcase and picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’ she said.

  ‘Claire? Claire, darling, it’s Mike.’

  ‘Oh? I was waiting for you.’ Her pulse began to race. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Claire, I’m so sorry,’ he said, ‘but I’m not going to be able to make this evening. Stephen has been chosen at the very last moment to play rugby for the school. It’s his first time and obviously he’s over the moon about it. He’s just rung me and he so wants me to be there.’

  ‘What about his mother?’ she asked coolly.

  ‘Well, obviously she’ll be there as well,’ said Mike. ‘I’m so sorry, my love, but this really is important for Stephen—I can’t let him down. I will make it up to you another time, I promise, and it wasn’t as if we were doing anything special, was it?’

  She hung up a few moments later and turned to find Dominic watching her carefully. ‘Problems?’ he said quietly.

  ‘No, not really,’ she replied with a shrug.

  ‘That was Mike, wasn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, yes, it was.’ Suddenly she found it impossible to meet his gaze, hating that he should see her humiliation, her being let down in this way.

  ‘He isn’t coming, is he?’ said Dominic softly.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, he isn’t.’ Sick at heart, she turned away then stopped, her heart suddenly thumping as she realised that Dominic had come right into the flat and had closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHAT are you doing?’ Claire stared at him.

  ‘I know you were anxious for me to go,’ he said calmly, ‘but that was before, when you thought Mike was going to turn up at any minute. Now we know he isn’t coming, I guess there’s no urgency.’

  ‘You still shouldn’t be here, Dominic.’ With a helpless little gesture she turned away again.

  ‘Maybe not.’ He shrugged. ‘But I’m here now and no one else knows so I can’t see it will do any harm.’ He glanced around. ‘Nice place you have here,’ he said admiringly.

  �
�Yes,’ she agreed faintly, ‘yes, it is. It’s a bit small but it suits me.’

  ‘Do you always do that?’ he asked suddenly.

  ‘What?’ she half turned, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘Have champagne before going on a date?’ With his head on one side Dominic was staring with interest at the coffee-table with its ice bucket, glasses and bottle of champagne.

  ‘No, of course not,’ she retorted, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

  ‘So, just tonight, then—is that it?’

  ‘Yes, just tonight,’ she agreed.

  Slowly he allowed his gaze to roam over her, taking in every detail from the little black dress, which in another lifetime he had unfastened and allowed to slip to the floor, to her high-heeled shoes and her hair that gently brushed her shoulders.

  ‘Foolish man, Mike,’ he observed drily. ‘You dress to look like a million dollars—set a scene like this—and then he ruins it all by not turning up. You wouldn’t catch me doing that…’

  ‘Ah, but you don’t have two children to consider,’ said Claire quickly.

  ‘Maybe not.’ Dominic shrugged again. ‘But if I had, I think I would have taught them about honouring engagements.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she said, leaping to Mike’s defence when, really, deep down she was angry and had no wish to defend him. ‘The situation is difficult for Mike. His ex-wife is difficult…’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Dominic, but he sounded far from convinced. ‘One good thing, though, is that this gives us that chance to talk that we needed so much.’

  ‘I’m still not convinced that we have anything to talk about,’ said Claire stiffly.

  ‘Oh, but we do—’ Dominic seemed on the point of explaining but she interrupted him.

  ‘And I’m still not sure that you should even be here,’ she added in growing desperation. It was dangerous, having Dominic here in her flat, she knew that. She wasn’t at all sure that she could trust either him or herself.

  ‘In that case,’ he said calmly, ‘I suggest we go out.’

  ‘Go out?’ she stared at him stupidly. ‘What do you mean, go out?’

  ‘Well, you are all dressed up with nowhere to go,’ he replied. ‘You obviously haven’t eaten and neither have I, so I suggest the next logical step is for us to go out and find somewhere to eat.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she began, only to have him lift his hand to silence her.

  ‘Come on, Claire,’ he protested. ‘What possible harm could there be in that? We are colleagues, for heaven’s sake, and we do both have to eat.’

  ‘Well…’ She bit her lip, wondering if she could dare take him up on his offer.

  ‘Alternatively,’ he said, ‘we could open that bottle of champagne and maybe send out for a take-away.’

  ‘I think we’d better go out,’ she said hastily.

  ‘As you wish.’ He inclined his head. ‘Right, now we’ve got that settled,’ he went on smoothly, ‘where do you suggest we go?’

  Rapidly Claire tried to get her brain into gear. Mike, she knew, would have taken her to either the little French bistro on the other side of town or the Indian restaurant in the high street—she decided it was probably better to avoid both of those.

  ‘There’s a rather nice-looking Italian restaurant down near the river,’ said Dominic, before she had a chance to speak.

  ‘No,’ she replied quickly. Italian restaurants were definitely a no-go area as they would be sure to evoke memories for them both that would be far better left alone. ‘There’s a new wine bar that has just opened opposite the theatre,’ she said quickly. ‘It also serves food,’ she added.

  ‘OK, I’m easy,’ he replied. ‘Just as long as I get to eat.’

  It felt strange, leaving the flat with Dominic and walking through the town to the rather trendy new wine bar. In Italy she would have taken his hand, or at the very least his arm. Now she didn’t dare, but it didn’t alter the fact that she felt vulnerable and acutely conscious of him by her side, terrified almost that they would be seen together. The wine bar was busy and Claire found herself feeling thankful for that. Maybe it would be easy for Dominic and herself to merge into the crowd. They were given a table tucked away in a corner window, and any initial awkwardness was hidden by Dominic ordering drinks for them both and each of them perusing the menu and ordering their food—a Caesar salad and hot chicken and bacon strips for Claire and steak and salad for Dominic.

  ‘Well, this certainly beats a solitary take-away,’ said Dominic as the waiter hurried away with their order and he leaned back in his seat.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ asked Claire curiously, suddenly realising that she had no idea where Dominic had been living since coming to Surrey.

  ‘I’m renting an apartment in that old converted brewery near the river,’ he replied. ‘It’s a bit small but it’ll serve its purpose.’

  ‘I still don’t know why you came,’ said Claire in sudden desperation, taking a much larger mouthful than she had intended of her drink and almost choking in the process.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ he said quietly, watching her levelly. ‘You know exactly why I came.’

  ‘But there was no point, Dominic,’ she said in desperation. ‘You knew that. I told you, right at the start, I told you about Mike.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed calmly, ‘I know you did, but I happen to believe that something changed—it must have done for you to have slept with me that last night in Rome. Aren’t I right?’ he said as Claire felt the warm colour flood her cheeks.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘of course it did. It changed gradually over those few days we were together. Maybe the circumstances helped to bring it about—I don’t know—but, yes, it did change.’

  ‘So you must have felt something for me?’ He leaned forward, his gaze intense as he sought hers. ‘Claire?’ he prompted when she didn’t immediately answer. ‘Can you deny that you felt something for me?’

  ‘No, Dominic, I can’t deny it,’ she replied at last, ‘because if I did it would be a lie. Of course I felt something for you—you know I did. I had to, to have done what I did. I’m not in the habit of going in for one-night stands.’

  ‘I didn’t for one moment imagine you were,’ he said softly. ‘And that’s really the reason why I’m here. I don’t believe that was a one-night stand any more than you do.’

  ‘But in this case that is exactly what it has to be,’ she said desperately. ‘In another time and another place it might have been different, Dominic, but because of the way things are between Mike and myself, what happened between us can go no further.’

  ‘Do you love Mike?’ he asked suddenly, unexpectedly.

  The hesitation was so brief as to be almost imperceptible. ‘Of course I do,’ she replied, ‘otherwise what do you think this is all about?’

  ‘All right.’ He nodded. ‘But are you in love with him?’ he added relentlessly.

  ‘What…?’ She stared at him.

  ‘Does your heart leap every time you see him?’ he asked. ‘Does your pulse race and your skin tingle when he touches you?’ he went on mercilessly. ‘Do you cry out his name when he makes love to you…?’

  ‘Dominic, please!’ she protested, throwing a frantic glance over her shoulder.

  ‘You did with me,’ he went on in the same soft, unrelenting tone. ‘You responded to every move I made. Does he do that for you? Does he love you like that, Claire?’

  ‘Dominic…’ She took a deep breath in an effort to steady her nerves. ‘Please, don’t talk like that…’

  ‘Because if he doesn’t make you feel that way,’ he went on, ignoring her protests, ‘there’s no point in going on, Claire, because if you do, take it from me it won’t last.’

  To her utmost relief she was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of their food, and while they were eating she made a huge effort and at last managed to persuade Dominic to talk about his work overseas. Inevitably, however, that particular conversation led on to when he wou
ld be returning abroad. ‘It all rather depends,’ he said smoothly, ‘on what happens here.’

  Very gradually, throughout the course of the meal, Claire felt herself slowly begin to relax. They didn’t mention Mike again or her relationship with him; neither did they talk about what had happened between them in Italy. Instead they talked of their families, their respective childhoods and Claire’s recent visit to Portsmouth. And then, somehow, the subject came up of Claire’s involvement in the stress-counselling clinics run by the Hargreaves Centre.

  ‘Do you enjoy that sort of work?’ asked Dominic. They had finished their dessert by now—a raspberry syllabub—and were lingering over coffee.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Claire replied slowly. ‘So much so that I have wondered recently whether I should specialise even more in counselling. I have been amazed to find just how much stress is to blame or partly to blame for so many medical conditions.’

  He nodded in agreement. ‘How often do you take your clinics?’ he asked.

  ‘Only once a week at the moment and Penny does the same, but already Richard is wanting us to increase those to two a week each.’

  ‘At that rate he’ll be needing to employ another practice nurse,’ Dominic observed. ‘The centre is incredibly busy.’

  ‘It is,’ Claire agreed. ‘Mind you, I like it that way. I get bored if I don’t have enough to do.’

  ‘Me, too,’ he said with a grin.

  At last as almost reluctantly they stood up to leave the wine bar Claire was surprised to find that three hours had passed since they had come in. Dominic insisted on paying the bill and Claire instinctively knew it would be pointless arguing with him. It was almost dark as together they strolled back along the riverside path and through the town to Claire’s flat. They had fallen silent as they walked as if each had been reminded of the unusual situation they had both found themselves in, and in the end it was Claire who broke the silence as they reached her gate. ‘It’s been a lovely evening, Dominic,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’ he said softly.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, as they stopped at the gate and turned to look up at the little porch at the top of a short flight of steps. ‘I really don’t think I should.’

 

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