The Real Fantasy

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘Can you be bothered? I could get a take-away.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Actually, I’d rather you were here. It’s funny, I haven’t felt at all worried about being alone in the house at night until now, but suddenly—I don’t know. Am I being ridiculous?’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Linsey, you’ve got nothing to fear.’

  This smile was even smaller. ‘Haven’t I? A rapist is on the loose, and you say I’ve got nothing to fear? Tell it to Clare, Matthew. I bet she won’t be sleeping peacefully tonight.’

  ‘I’m sorry the session at the police station took so long.’

  She shrugged. ‘It was hardly your fault. They had to have all the facts. I just hope I managed to get enough DNA material for them to get a positive ID if it happens again.’

  ‘I’m sure you did your best. It isn’t easy, especially so long afterwards.’

  ‘Mmm. Come on, let’s go and raid my fridge before the phone rings and you have to go out.’

  Matthew switched the phone through to hers and they went up to the flat, and Matthew sat on one of the kitchen chairs, tipped it back and propped his feet on the wall while he watched her.

  ‘She was a pretty girl,’ he said idly. ‘Looked a bit like you.’

  Linsey threw him a sideways grin. ‘All blondes look the same.’

  ‘No, they don’t. When I was at my obsessive best about you, every time I saw one I looked twice. They never looked quite like you. None of them ever had that certain something that made you stand out from the crowd.’

  ‘I thought,’ she said, viciously hacking up onions, ‘that you were going to avoid personal issues like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like compliments.’

  ‘That wasn’t a compliment,’ he said quietly. ‘That was the truth.’

  She heard the chair legs hit the floor, and then his hands touched her shoulders, turning her.

  ‘God, you’re crying!’ he exclaimed softly.

  She laughed, a little breathlessly. ‘It’s the onions.’

  He took the knife out of her hand, washed her fingers under the tap and wiped her eyes with a dampened corner of the teatowel.

  ‘That’s better. I don’t want to think I reduce you to tears.’

  And then he kissed her.

  It was just like before, only better, because she knew what was coming and anticipation added to the excitement.

  The stir-fry was forgotten. There was no room in her mind for anything except sensation, and it swamped her. The taste of his mouth, the texture of his skin, the soft, thick mass of his hair between her fingers as she cradled his head and drew it closer—they combined to drive all reason from her mind.

  She knew only that this was right, that she belonged to this man and always had, and he belonged to her. From the first moment when their eyes had met all those years ago, they had been a part of each other, and she could no more deny that than she could deny her own heartbeat.

  They moved to the sitting room, sprawling across the sofa, his weight half on her as his mouth plundered hers. His hand grazed her side, and she shifted to give him better access. She felt the warmth of his fingers caress her breast. They were hard and yet so gentle, cupping the fullness, his thumb tormenting the aching peak with soft, teasing strokes. His hips nudged against hers, his need so obvious and yet so restrained.

  ‘Linsey?’ he said softly.

  And then the phone rang, shrill and demanding. He lay motionless against her for a moment, then with a ragged sigh he rolled away from her and stood up, striding to the phone.

  ‘Dr Jarvis—yes, hello, Mrs Briggs. Oh, dear. Right, I’ll come straight away. Sit him up near an open window, and stay with him. I’ll be with you in five minutes.’

  He turned to Linsey. ‘Phone the ambulance—here’s the number and the address. Get them over there PDQ. It’s old Mr Briggs—I think the heat has finally got to him. Admission to Lymington—could you phone them as well and warn them? Bless you.’

  He handed her her jotter pad, muttered something about seeing her later and ran.

  So much for their second kiss. She rang the ambulance, and the hospital, and then went into the kitchen and shredded up some more vegetables. When he came back—if he came back—she’d quickly fry them with some prawns and noodles. She made a cup of tea and settled down to wait in front of the TV, and tried not to think about the rapist.

  Matthew came back after an hour and told her that Mr Briggs had gone into acute left ventricular failure and was touch-and-go. ‘That’s the trouble with LVF—it can strike so fast, especially in a patient who’s already so dodgy. Anyway, he’s in. Thanks for ringing round.’

  ‘Have you got time to eat?’ she asked.

  ‘How long will it take?’

  ‘Four or five minutes.’

  He grinned. ‘I’ve got time.’

  He had—just. As he scooped up the last forkful the phone rang, and he was off yet again.

  Not quite so fast this time, though. He paused long enough to thank her for the meal, to tell her to set the alarm after him and, if she was worried, just to push the panic button in the flat.

  ‘That’ll set off the alarm here and at the police station; or, if you should feel the need to set it off silently, key in the number in reverse and it rings at the police station and my house, without making any noise here. They respond very fast to either method.’

  ‘And do you?’

  He grinned. ‘Like lightning. Don’t worry, Linsey, you’ll be all right.’ His face sobered and he drew her gently into his arms. ‘One day we’ll get to finish that kiss undisturbed,’ he promised, and, with a gentle brush of his mouth on hers, he left.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALL hell seemed to break loose in the practice over the next couple of days. Linsey, remembering her boredom and frustration during the first part of the first day, vowed never again to complain about having too little to do.

  Rhys came back on Friday morning, but he was unable to stay the whole day because of a solicitor’s appointment.

  He looked haggard, Linsey thought sympathetically, and found time to cook him lunch in her flat.

  ‘You’re a star,’ he said wearily as he cleaned the plate. ‘I hadn’t realised I was that hungry.’

  ‘When did you last eat?’ she asked him.

  He looked at her as if she had lost her marbles. ‘Eat?’ he muttered. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Oh, Rhys—what about the children?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve been feeding them—beans and fish fingers and stuff like that. I don’t know. I suppose. I ought to go and shop but I’ve got an antenatal clinic this afternoon before I go to the solicitor—’

  ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘But you’re taking on enough as it is, Linsey.’

  She folded her arms and fixed him with a look. ‘Are you saying you don’t trust me?’ she asked archly.

  He laughed. ‘Of course I trust you. I’d be delighted if you’d do my clinic. I’ll make it up to you one day, I promise.’

  She bit the inside of her cheek and hesitated.

  ‘Yes?’

  She lifted her shoulders. ‘I just thought you ought to know that one or two of your patients seem to have got wind of what’s going on.’

  He laughed humourlessly. ‘I’m sure. What have they said?’

  She looked down at her hands. ‘One old lady said she was glad Judy had gone and good riddance. You were far too good for her. Another... Well, more of the same, really.’

  He eyed her sideways. ‘Elaborate.’

  She did, reluctantly because she didn’t like repeating gossip. ‘He said it was disgusting the way she’d been carrying on right under your nose, and you deserved better.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘Oh, well, at least they’re on my side. How many said it was no wonder she’d gone off the way I neglected her?’

  ‘No one,’ she said honestly and without hesitation. ‘No one at all. The only people who have said anything ha
ve been one hundred per cent behind you.’

  ‘Of course, if it had been me screwing around I’d be called a randy old dog and I’d get away with it. Not that I mind being the injured party, you understand, but it seems somewhat unfair.’

  Linsey was surprised by what seemed like a defence of his wife, and yet his choice of words showed how hurt he had been by her behaviour. ‘For what it’s worth,’ she told him quietly, ‘I wouldn’t say that at all. I think infidelity in any shape or form by either party is equally unforgivable.’

  His smile was wry. ‘Oh, innocent, sweet girl. People are the pits. The sooner you learn that, the better. By the way, any news on that rapist?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, nothing. I hope the girl’s all right. The HIV and hepatitis results were negative, fortunately, so that’s one less thing to worry about. I gave her a prescription for the morning-after pill to avoid any unwanted side effects,’ she added drily.

  ‘Bastard,’ he whispered. ‘I’d like five minutes alone with him, or any other spineless pervert who picks on the weak and innocent like that.’

  She looked at him, probably six feet four, weighing half as much again as she did, and pitied any spineless pervert unfortunate enough to run into this gentle giant on a dark night. ‘Go on,’ she said, shooing him out kindly. ‘Go and do your shopping—and remember to buy lots of fruit and vegetables.’

  ‘Bully,’ he muttered with a grin, and, dropping a kiss on her cheek, he went down the stairs to the surgery.

  She watched him go from the window, backing out of his space in the car park as Matthew came in. She waved to Matthew, and he ran up to the flat.

  ‘Hi, gorgeous. How are you?’

  She smiled. ‘Hi, gorgeous yourself. I’m OK. Want a cup of coffee?’

  ‘Love one—Hey, who have you been entertaining?’

  ‘Rhys.’

  Did she imagine it, or did a flicker of jealousy cross his face? She decided to play on it. ‘He was hungry and I felt sorry for him. He’s rather nice, really. I wonder why she left him? All that sexy muscle and sinew—’

  She was yanked hard up against his chest and kissed soundly. ‘You,’ he said warningly against her lips, ‘are asking for trouble.’

  ‘Oh, promises, promises,’ she laughed, and with a snort of disgust he dropped her.

  She straightened her shirt and smirked at him. ‘I’ve got another antenatal clinic today.’

  ‘Rhys’s? I thought he was in.’

  ‘I sent him to the supermarket—he was about to starve the kids to death, I think. He didn’t seem to have eaten for days.’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ he told her hopefully.

  ‘Beans on toast?’

  He nodded. ‘Could I? I’ll have to go to the supermarket myself and stock up your larder again.’ He eased himself down onto a chair and tipped it back. ‘I’ve just come from the hospital, by the way. Mr Briggs died a little while ago.’

  Linsey sighed. ‘Oh, dear. Still, I suppose the time was right. He didn’t seem to have much to live for.’

  ‘He didn’t. I think the family will be relieved, and then of course they’ll feel guilty because they’re glad it’s all over. I’ll go and visit them later tonight, see if I can help them at all. It’s a difficult time, even when it’s the right time. Oh, and I saw Mrs Arkwright. She had her op yesterday and she says she already feels much better.’

  ‘Oh, good. It makes you realise how bad it must have been if a major operation brings relief!’

  ‘Oh, absolutely. Some of these hips—when the socket is revealed—look so bad you wonder how the patient’s been able to walk at all.’ The chair hit the floor as she put the plate in front of him, and he dived into the simple meal as if he was ravenous.

  She made some coffee, and sat cradling her cup and watching him eat. There was something satisfying about feeding hungry men, she decided. She’d done more of it this week than she had in a lifetime. In fact, it was rapidly becoming a habit! Matthew was right—they’d almost eaten her out of house and home. She ought to go to the supermarket and stock up.

  The antenatal clinic was straightforward fortunately, and so was the evening surgery. She pulled into the supermarket car park and found a space, did her shopping and drove out again. As she did so, she thought she saw someone staring at her, but when she looked round there was no one there.

  Odd. She must have imagined it. It was that rapist setting her nerves on edge. Even so, instead of taking her things up to the flat as she unloaded them, she took everything into the rear entrance, closed and locked the door and then ferried the bags upstairs after the alarm was on again and she felt secure.

  Matthew was on duty that night, and she felt safe knowing that he was coming and going from the surgery, picking up patient records. She left a note for him where he couldn’t miss it.

  ‘Come up and see me some time. L.’

  At twelve-fifteen, when she was lying in bed unable to sleep and watching the car headlights track across the ceiling, a set of lights swung through a different arc and she heard Matthew pull up outside, open the back door and turn off the alarm.

  He found her note and came straight up, and she greeted him on the landing, dressed only in a mid-thigh-length nightshirt with pussycats all over it. He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Love the nightie,’ he drawled, and smiled gently at her. ‘What’s the matter, Linsey? Couldn’t sleep?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know—I’m probably being neurotic, but I thought somebody was watching me at the supermarket. It just unsettled me.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

  ‘You could sleep in my bed,’ she said softly.

  His eyes darkened. ‘My God, girl, you pick your moments. I’ve got three calls to make. They’re coming in clusters tonight.’

  ‘Can I come with you?’

  ‘Of course. Don’t you mind?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d rather do that than stay here alone. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. Do you mind the company?’

  He hugged her gently. ‘Of course not. Go and get dressed and come down. I’ll see you in the kitchen.’

  She threw on the skirt and T-shirt that she had been wearing earlier, with a cardigan in case the night was cooler, and then ran downstairs. Matthew was ready, and they went out together, setting the alarm.

  The calls were fairly straightforward. There was a baby with tummy ache who burped and filled his nappy as they arrived, and immediately settled, another child of four who had been coughing constantly and needed steaming and a course of antibiotics, and a young woman threatening a miscarriage whom Matthew admitted to Southampton for observation.

  It was all over and done with by two, and they drove back along the sea front. The phone was mercifully quiet, and Matthew pulled up on the prom and wound down the window. ‘Listen to the sea on the shingle,’ he murmured. ‘I always think it sounds wonderful—so soothing.’

  His arm came round her shoulder and he eased her up against him, then one finger tilted her chin gently up to meet his kiss.

  ‘I want you, Linsey,’ he said softly against her lips, and then his mouth claimed hers and she was lost. The tender magic of his kiss mingled with the music of the night, and she threaded her fingers through his hair and held him with one hand, the other seeking out the buttons on his shirt.

  Her fingers found a gap and slid through, their backs brushing against the satin of his skin. There was a little hair, but not so much that she couldn’t feel the warm, supple texture of his skin or the firm underlying muscles that clenched as she smoothed her hand against his chest and inched her fingers lower.

  ‘Let’s go back to the flat,’ he muttered, pulling reluctantly away, and she unwillingly released him and moved back to her side of the car and fastened her seat belt. Her heart was pounding, her pulse racing.

  Finally, it seemed, they were to finish what they’d started on Tuesday night—or so she thought.
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br />   However, as they turned off the high street Matthew swore softly. Blue lights flashed in the road, illuminating the front of the surgery. An alarm was sounding, and as they pulled up and got out a policeman with a walkie-talkie approached them. ‘Sorry, sir, you can’t go in there.’

  ‘Of course I can—I’m the senior partner,’ Matthew said shortly. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘The alarm went off a few minutes ago, sir. Signs of forced entry at the rear, and the intruder has been through the place. Perhaps you’d be good enough to turn the alarm off and inspect the damage.’

  They went round the back, Linsey’s heart in her mouth, and went in through the smashed back door, the policeman on their heels. Seconds later the alarm was stifled, and Matthew went through the surgery, looking for damage or anything missing.

  ‘Drugs,’ he said shortly. ‘The spare stock of drugs is kept in a locked cabinet. It’s been forced and the drugs are missing.’

  ‘Which drugs, sir?’ the policeman asked.

  ‘I don’t know—valium, temazepam, insulin, antibiotics, painkillers—you name it. I’ll get you a complete list off the computer.’

  ‘Right, sir, we’ll get onto it right away. And of course we’ll need to take your fingerprints so that we can identify the intruder’s. Now, if you’d be kind enough to check the other floors?’

  They went through the middle floor of the house, where Rhys and Rosie had their surgeries and where the nurses’ treatment rooms were situated, and found no further damage. Nothing had been moved or touched in her flat, and so it was decided to board up the door and leave the alarm on again for the rest of the night.

  ‘You’ll come home with me,’ Matthew told Linsey, to her relief. Romance was far from both their minds. All Linsey could think about was how close she had come to being there when the burglar had broken in, and how glad she was that Matthew had been on call. She imagined that his thoughts were on the same lines, and when they arrived at his cottage she went upstairs and into his spare bed without a murmur.

  ‘Rise and shine.’

  She opened bleary eyes to find Matthew standing over her, a steaming mug in his hand. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the break-in seemed light years away.