200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon

by Annie Claydon

  Too late, Edward realised that he should have chosen his words more carefully. The impression that she was about to do him a favour was accurate enough, in the context of the amount of thinking time he’d already given to her plight, but Charlotte probably wouldn’t see it that way.

  ‘My father has his own practice at law, and I want you to consider making an appointment to go and see him. He can advise you and get his investigative team to find out exactly what’s going on. With my dad on your side, you can get things sorted out quicker and more efficiently.’

  ‘But I can’t afford to pay a lawyer, Edward.’

  ‘You won’t need to. If I ask him, he’ll do it for free.’

  She hesitated. For a moment Edward thought that her pride was going to let her see sense and give in to expediency. Then she shook her head.

  ‘No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Please don’t mention it to him.’

  He sighed. ‘What isn’t fair is that you’re spending time on researching and fighting your own battles when there are people who will happily help you out. It’s not just you that it makes an impact on—it’s your work at the clinic.’

  That particular argument didn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Charlotte must have been worried sick over the last couple of weeks, but she’d never shown any evidence of it on the job.

  She frowned at him. ‘I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of my work.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t mean to, but none of us can be expected to give a hundred per cent when we’re under the kind of pressure that you’re facing at the moment.’ He was pressing hard, exploiting every chink in her armour.

  She hesitated. ‘Edward, I... You’re confusing me.’

  Well, now she knew how he felt. ‘It’s very simple, Charlotte. Trust me.’

  Two little words, spoken almost as a throwaway to emphasise his point. He should have known better. If he’d thought about it for two seconds he would have realised that trust was something she had a lot of difficulty with.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Without another word, she got to her feet and disappeared into the house.

  Edward leaned back in his chair and stared out into the evening shadows. Archie slid past his legs, waiting to be stroked, and he ran his fingers thoughtfully along the cat’s back. Adjusting to the complex myriad of emotions that Charlotte and Isaac had brought to the quiet peace of his home was proving more difficult than he’d imagined.

  The green reflective eyes seemed for a moment to understand his frustration, and then Archie was off again, his instinctive urge to chase shadows getting the better of him. Edward silently wished him better luck than he’d had tonight.

  * * *

  Edward had left the house before she was up the following morning. Charlotte went through the routine of getting herself up and ready for work, and Isaac ready for school, almost on autopilot. She was well aware that she’d walked out on Edward in the middle of a conversation last night, and common courtesy demanded that if he decided to broach the subject again she should have some kind of reasoned answer for him.

  ‘Mum...?’

  ‘Yes, Isaac.’

  ‘Is everything going to be all right?’

  She sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. ‘Of course it is. What makes you ask that, sweetie?’

  Some kind of understanding of the situation they were in, perhaps?

  Isaac shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  His brow was still furrowed, perhaps as a result of the unerring radar that seemed to alert him whenever something was wrong, even though he didn’t grasp quite what it was.

  ‘Look, sweetie. Those men came to our house by mistake on Saturday—they weren’t looking for us. We’re staying here with Edward for a few days, while I get everything sorted out, but that’s going to happen very soon. Everything’s going to be okay.’

  ‘Do you promise?’

  He still lived in a world where she could make everything right. Those trusting eyes would give Charlotte the courage to face anything that the world could throw at her. They’d even give her the courage to ask just one more favour from Edward.

  ‘Yes. I promise. Cross my heart.’

  * * *

  She’d gone straight to Edward’s office when she’d arrived at work and left a note for him on his desk. As luck would have it, he returned from his morning’s surgery just as Allie and Paula were both within range of the nurses’ station, beckoning Charlotte into his office in full view of both of them.

  She was aware that two pairs of eyes were following her every move, so knew she’d better make this quick. ‘I wanted to apologise. For last night...’

  ‘You have nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you sit down?’ He threw himself into his leather chair.

  ‘Because...’ Charlotte shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. ‘We said we’d be discreet about our current living arrangements. And we’re being watched.’

  ‘Really? By whom?’ He glanced around his office, perfectly oblivious of the stares that were homing in on them through the glass.

  ‘Don’t look...’

  His attention swung back to her, and Charlotte began to wonder whether it wouldn’t have been better to leave well alone. Edward’s gaze made her feel as if he were undressing her. Taking his time and getting it absolutely right.

  ‘There—will that do?’

  As long as he didn’t keep it up too long. ‘That’s fine. Allie and Paula are at the nurses’ station. Watching us.’

  ‘Ah. Well, in that case, I’ll just pretend to show you this...’ He flipped through the pile of journals on his desk, pulling one out and opening it. ‘Then you can sit down and pretend to read it.’

  His lips twitched slightly as she took the journal from his hand, and Charlotte suppressed a grin. His sense of humour might be an acquired taste, but it was well worth the journey.

  ‘You wrote this?’ She read the title of the paper slowly, just about getting the gist of it.

  ‘Yeah.’ He leaned forward across his desk. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know. Give me a couple of months to work my way through it...’

  ‘Then you’ll need to sit down.’

  Charlotte gave up the unequal struggle and plumped herself down on one of the deep-cushioned leather easy chairs which were reserved for guests. Edward swung around in his own office chair, making sure that his back was to the glass wall, and shot her a conspiratorial look.

  ‘So what do you want to speak to me about?’ His finger nudged at the note on his desk.

  Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘I was being pig-headed last night. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not...’ His intent blue gaze found hers and held it fast. ‘I’m not great with certain kinds of solutions.’

  What did he mean by that? Edward’s usual forthright way of expressing himself seemed to have deserted him for the moment. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying...’

  He sighed. ‘I’m saying that I’m not as good with people as you are. I can be insensitive at times.’

  ‘No, Edward...’ She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake this nonsense out of him, but she was being watched. She had to stay still and pretend this was just a conversation between two work colleagues. ‘You’ve shown me and Isaac nothing but kindness.’

  His eyes betrayed his confusion. ‘Is this your way of letting me off the hook?’

  ‘No. I’m paying you the respect of being honest with you. The way you’ve done with me.’

  His slow smile penetrated every dark corner of her being. Filled her mind with the kind of ideas that she’d been trying not to think about for the past three days.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Charlotte was s
ure that there was a more appropriate response than that, but she couldn’t fathom what it might be at the moment. Not without the kind of body language that would get her into deep trouble. ‘Look, what I wanted to say was that I’m over trying to make out that I can do everything by myself. If the offer’s still open, I’d be really grateful if your father could spare a little of his time—perhaps just to talk to me and give me some general advice.’

  He nodded. ‘The offer’s still open; there was no time limit on it. I’ll give him a call.’

  ‘Thanks, Edward. I really appreciate it. You’ll tell him that, won’t you?’

  ‘I will.’ He pointed to the journal in her lap. ‘You know, if you’re going to do this properly you should at least look as if you’re reading.’

  She picked up the journal and looked at it. ‘Better?’

  ‘Much. If anyone asks, what’s our excuse for talking to each other?’

  ‘I’ve probably been disputing some of the conclusions you came to in this article.’ Charlotte jabbed her finger at the page in front of her and threw the journal down onto his desk.

  ‘Very theatrical.’ His eyes flashed as he leaned forward, picking up the journal and clipping something to the pages before he passed it back. ‘Here’s my father’s card. I’ll give him a call right now and tell him to expect your call this afternoon.’

  ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say enjoying. I think you’ve made the right decision....’

  ‘I meant the secret rendezvous stuff.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that adds a certain frisson. D’you think it’s working?’

  ‘Probably not. But at least I’ve got a measure of deniability.’ Charlotte slipped the business card into her pocket and closed the journal, passing it back to him. ‘Will you be working tonight?’

  ‘No. Do you want a lift home?’ He grinned. ‘You could wait for me by the park gates if you like. With a wig and a pair of sunglasses, no one will think it’s you...’

  ‘I’ll wear a pink carnation in my buttonhole.’

  ‘Yeah. That would be a nice touch. Match your ears.’

  * * *

  Her ears weren’t the only things which felt as if they were burning up when Charlotte walked back past the nurses’ station.

  ‘Not so fast.’

  Paula’s murmured words stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Sorry?’ She was going to have to brazen it out.

  ‘So what’s the story, then? You and Edward North?’

  ‘He was just showing me a paper he’d written. In one of the journals. Something that came up.’

  Charlotte pushed her hands into her pockets and curled her fingers around the business card, just to check that it wasn’t about to leap out of her pocket and embarrass her even further.

  ‘Well, make sure that something comes up more often. After all...’ Allie shrugged ‘...one thing might lead to another.’

  ‘I don’t have time for anything like that. Isaac’s the only man in my life at the moment.’ It would be as well if she remembered that, too.

  ‘Spoilsport. Surely you get time for a night off once in a while?’

  Paula’s tone was edged with concern. She might tease, but underneath it all she had a good heart.

  ‘Edward North...he needs someone like you. And he is gorgeous.’

  ‘And headed this way...’

  Charlotte had been deliberately not looking in the direction of Edward’s office and it was Allie who raised the alarm. Edward was striding towards them, and Charlotte caught the quick exchanged glance between Paula and Allie as he passed behind her. A little too close.

  ‘Charlotte.’

  There was something intimate about the way he said her name. Or maybe it was just her imagination. Charlotte didn’t dare to look in Paula’s direction.

  ‘Mrs Ashe is here a little early with April. If you’re free, then I’ll see them now.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Charlotte reached over for the notes and followed Edward into the plush, comfortable consulting room.

  * * *

  The seventeen-year-old took a nervous breath as Edward began the careful, precise work of taking the dressings from the side of her face. The previous week he had used skin flaps to revise the scars that a road accident had left, and today April was to see the result. His small nod, and a fleeting glance in Charlotte’s direction, revealed that he was pleased with his work.

  ‘Does it look horrible?’ April was chewing her lip.

  ‘No. Mr North’s got to take a careful look, but so far everything’s fine.’

  The other nurses sometimes complained that it was pretty much impossible to gauge Edward’s reactions to anything, but today he seemed more transparent than usual.

  She ventured a little more reassurance for April. ‘It’s a little raised at the moment, but that’s normal. It’ll settle over time.’

  ‘Yes.’ Edward was taking her lead. ‘I’m very pleased with the way it’s healing.’

  Charlotte laid her hand over April’s, feeling the tremor of her fingers. ‘When you look at yourself in the mirror, remember that we’re at the very early stages of healing right now. Your procedure went well, and everything’s going just as it should. You’ll see a lot of improvement in the coming months.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ April managed a smile. ‘I know.’

  She might be young, but April was much more pragmatic than some of the clinic’s clients, who seemed to expect that the miracles Edward performed should take effect immediately. Charlotte reached for the mirror, but Edward already had it, and was handing it to April.

  ‘Everything’s looking good, April. There’s very little swelling, and I can see you’ve been doing all the things that Charlotte told you to do when we saw you last. Keep up the good work.’

  ‘Thanks.’ April took the mirror and looked at her reflection. ‘That’s not so bad.’

  Charlotte grinned at her. ‘No. Not so bad at all. Now, I’ll show you how to massage it gently. With just a little more work, we can make it even better.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE SMELL COMING from the kitchen was gorgeous. Mouthwatering. Edward wondered how he could possibly be so hungry when normally he ate far later than this, and sometimes not at all if he got involved with what he was doing.

  ‘Do you know what’s for dinner, Isaac?’ He sat down on the sofa next to the boy, who was fidgeting restlessly.

  ‘Yes. Mum made it yesterday.’

  ‘Would you like to share?’

  Isaac thought for a minute, and Edward wondered if he ought to rephrase.

  ‘Lasagne.’

  ‘Sounds great. I like lasagne.’

  ‘Me, too. I like it here, too.’ Isaac thought for a moment. ‘When are we going home?’

  Edward glanced towards the open door of the kitchen. No Charlotte. She must be able to hear their conversation, but it didn’t appear that she was going to help him out.

  ‘Whenever you and your mum want to.’

  ‘Can we stay until next weekend?’

  ‘Yes, if you’d like to. What’s happening next weekend?’

  ‘The men are coming again.’

  ‘No, Isaac...’ Where was Charlotte when he needed her? She didn’t seem to have any difficulty in turning up almost like magic whenever she was needed at a patient’s bedside. ‘Your mother’s done nothing wrong. Those men aren’t allowed to come back, and I’m going to make sure they don’t.’

  ‘How?’ Isaac slipped off the sofa and approached Edward, laying both hands on one of his knees, clearly intent on a man-to-man talk.

  Edward took a deep breath and leaned forward. ‘That’s a secret. But I promise you that we’ll stop them from coming back.’ He held out his right
hand. ‘You want to shake on it?’

  Isaac gave him a puzzled look.

  ‘Here.’ Edward picked up his right hand and gave it a gentle shake. ‘That means that I’ve made a promise to you and I can’t break it.’

  ‘Like that?’ Isaac proffered his right hand and shook Edward’s again.

  ‘That’s right. Just like that.’ This was going better than he’d thought it might.

  Isaac proffered his hand again. ‘I promise I won’t touch your piano any more.’

  A noise from the kitchen door made Edward look up and he wondered how long Charlotte had been standing there.

  ‘I’m sorry. He only played a couple of notes and I wiped the fingermarks off...’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He turned back to Isaac. ‘How does not touching my piano unless you ask your mum or me first sound?’

  ‘I won’t touch your piano unless I ask Mum or you.’ Isaac sealed the bargain with a handshake and then ran over to the piano stool. ‘Can I touch it now?’

  ‘No, Isaac, it’s time for dinner. Go and wash your hands.’

  Isaac pulled a face, but ran out of the room. Charlotte’s eye was on him all the way.

  ‘How do you do that?’

  She’d picked up the lasagne, newly out of the oven, and was carrying it through into the dining room. Edward followed with the salad.

  ‘Answer all the questions? I just tell him the truth.’ She laid the dish down onto a padded table mat, her shoulders drooping suddenly, as if someone had loaded some extra weight onto them. ‘Well, most of the time. I still want to shield him, but he’s getting to an age when that’s not so easy.’

  Edward wondered whether he should mention the fact that Isaac plainly wanted to do the same—to shield his mother. Probably not. He shouldn’t interfere.

  She’d put a small glass vase of flowers on the over-large oval table, which Edward had never managed to fill but had bought because it balanced out the proportions of the room. He liked balance. Order and proportion helped him to think. Charlotte had laid a place for him at the head of the table, and he sat down.

  It was the strangest feeling. Charlotte on one side of him, helping him to a generous portion from the dish and pushing the salad bowl towards him. Isaac on the other side, sitting on a cushion so that he could reach the table. It was almost as though they’d taken him in, rather than the other way round.