200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon

by Annie Claydon

  She jutted her chin at him. ‘So you admit that you’ve underestimated yourself?’

  The phone interrupted any possible answer to that, and Edward reached for the handset. He heard his father’s voice, with a quick enquiry about how he was doing and a request to speak to Charlotte.

  ‘Here.’ He spun the handset across the coffee table and she caught it adroitly. ‘It’s my father. He wants to speak to you.’

  He couldn’t have asked for a better illustration of Kathy’s point. Even his father seemed to be captivated with her, and somehow found far more to chat about with Charlotte than he did with Edward.

  He retreated into a book, hardly hearing what Charlotte was saying on the phone. After half an hour she replaced the handset into its cradle.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘He wanted to set up a meeting for this week. I’m going to see him on Wednesday, after work. He’s got some things for me to sign.’

  ‘Good. Anything else?’ That would have accounted for about two minutes’ worth of their conversation.

  ‘He asked me if I knew anything about the different cuts you can get on precious stones.’

  ‘Really? Do you?’

  She nodded. ‘My father was a jeweller. The old-fashioned kind, who knew how to make pieces as well as sell them. So I know a little.’

  ‘I imagine he’s got their fortieth wedding anniversary in mind—that’s only a few months away now.’ Edward wondered whether he should follow his father’s lead and enlist Charlotte’s help in choosing a gift for his parents.

  ‘Mmm. He wants to get something really special. I’m going to give him the name of an associate of my father’s who deals in rubies when I see him. He does very fine work. I used to have a necklace that he made for my mother.’

  Her voice was matter-of-fact. Just the smallest hint of regret.

  ‘Used to have?’ Edward hoped against all reason that the necklace was somewhere tucked away safely—the one thing that Charlotte hadn’t sold.

  ‘I sold it. It gave me a few thousand to put towards the deposit on my house.’

  ‘I’m sorry you had to do that.’

  She shrugged. ‘They’re only pretty sparkly things. I remember my parents, and that’s the thing that really matters.’ She pulled her shoulders back, as if telling herself for the hundredth time that it really didn’t matter. ‘Anyway, I know a good ruby when I see one. I’ll make sure that your father gets a really nice stone.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She was quite unselfish in her generosity. Even though she’d lost everything herself, she wanted to make sure that another woman had the perfect gift. ‘So, do you need someone to look after Isaac on Wednesday evening?’

  ‘I can have the childminder pick him up from school. That’s what I usually do.’

  ‘I’ve got a free afternoon. I can pick him up and bring him back here if you like.’

  She nodded. ‘If it’s not too much trouble. I don’t want to...’

  ‘If you were going to say that you don’t want to impose, you can save your breath.’ He kept the stern glare up for about two seconds, until she flushed and it melted. ‘You’re not imposing. It’s been a pleasure having him around.’

  She grinned, a hint of mischief in her eyes. He could get lost in that mischief, let it bend and break him...

  ‘You two are getting to be quite a gang...’

  ‘Yeah?’ Edward had never been in a gang before, even if this was an exceptionally small one. He quite liked the possibilities that it opened up. Going fishing for tadpoles. Wearing their ties like bandanas around their heads.

  ‘I just... Well, I hope that he’s not been too demanding. Of your time.’

  For someone who seemed to know pretty much what he was thinking for a good proportion of the time, Charlotte could be shockingly unperceptive sometimes. ‘No. I think I’ve been demanding of his time, haven’t I? It’ll be my pleasure to pick him up from school on Wednesday.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EDWARD WAS PLEASED to see that the school made him submit to a thorough check, to make sure he was who he said he was, before they would let him take Isaac. He’d been worried that Charlotte’s husband might try something, and it seemed that his father had, too, because when Edward had broached the matter quietly with him he’d told him that was all seen to.

  ‘So. What shall we do, then?’

  The feeling that he was playing hookey was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t, of course. The clinic knew exactly where he was, and he was just taking a few hours from the hundreds he was owed. But Edward didn’t let that spoil the fantasy.

  ‘What would you like to do?’

  He dumped his keys and phone onto the hall table, and extricated Isaac from his backpack and coat.

  ‘We could play a game on the internet. Or play football. Or perhaps you’d like to go to the park?’

  Isaac nodded. He, too, had an air of being about to embark on an adventure. ‘The park.’

  ‘Okay. Do you think we should take some supplies with us? In case we get lost? You never know what might happen.’

  Isaac smiled. ‘Stay with me. I know my way around.’

  ‘Okay. But perhaps we’ll take some juice. And one of those fruit and nut bars your mum bought.’

  ‘Mmm. Good idea.’

  They rambled together through a small wooded area, picking up fallen branches to swish on the path in front of them. Edward turned over stones with his foot, and they both inspected the creatures which lived in the damp darkness below them.

  ‘Look. A piece of flint.’ He held out the broken pebble for Isaac to see.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Flint’s a type of stone. A long time ago cavemen used to make axes and arrowheads out of flint. It’s very hard.’

  Isaac inspected the stone carefully. ‘Can we make an axe out of this?’

  ‘Maybe. It’s a little small. Let’s find a bigger piece and perhaps we can take it home and give it a try.’

  They searched together and found a bigger piece of flint. Edward put it into his pocket, and then saw a couple of flat, circular stones on the ground. ‘Hey, look at these. Do you know how to skim stones?’

  ‘No.’

  Edward grinned. ‘We’ll collect some of these up, then, and I’ll show you.’

  * * *

  The house was quiet when Charlotte got back home. The meeting with Edward’s father had been longer than she’d thought it would be, and she was tired. She didn’t much feel like cooking straight away, but she was going to have to.

  ‘Hey? Guys...?’ She called into the silence and only silence answered her. Perhaps they were out in the garden, playing football. She walked through to the kitchen and opened the back door.

  No one there. Edward’s car was parked in front of the house, and his suit jacket was slung over the bannisters. He must have walked down to the school.

  Even if he had they should be back by now. He’d been due to collect Isaac more than two hours ago. Charlotte pulled out her phone and checked it. No calls or texts from the school. That meant that everything had gone to plan. Flipping through her address book, she found the entry for Edward’s mobile and called it. Tapping her foot while the call connected, she then let out a huff of exasperation when the tones of his mobile chimed out from the hall table.

  ‘Edward. Where are you?’

  She wasn’t sure whether to be cross or worried. She dropped her bag onto the hall table, slung her jacket over the bannister, and wandered into the sitting room, sinking down onto the sofa.

  ‘Where are you, Isaac?’

  * * *

  ‘Yeaaah!’ Isaac jumped up and down, cheering. ‘Six!’

  Edward straightened, smiling with satisfaction. ‘I think the smooth ones do better, don’t
you?’

  Isaac nodded. ‘Those big flat ones are the best, though.’

  ‘Hmm. Less air resistance. Larger surface area.’

  Isaac nodded sagely, although it was doubtful that he understood the finer points of it. Actually, for once, Edward wasn’t much interested in the finer points. Just in counting the number of times their stones skipped across the water out loud with Isaac.

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘Are you? We’ve had our drinks and...’ Edward looked at his watch, his heart sinking when he saw the time. He felt in his pocket for his mobile and realised that he must have left it at home when he changed his jacket. ‘Isaac, we’ve got to get going, mate. Your mum will be waiting for us.’

  * * *

  The list of possibilities was endless. A car accident. The lake. Surely Edward couldn’t be so irresponsible as to take Isaac out on the lake—not after what had happened at the weekend. She couldn’t think about that any more; it was making her feel sick. Peter’s face flipped up into the void that not thinking about a freak accident had left. Could he have taken Isaac? Perhaps Edward was out looking for him?

  She was being alarmist. They were probably out somewhere together. But Edward was normally so responsible. Charlotte couldn’t imagine that he’d possibly become as involved with a game of football as he did on a day to day basis with his piles of papers and the intricate problems that his patients posed.

  One of them had been taken ill. Perhaps she should call the local hospital. But wouldn’t Edward have called? Left a message for her on his own home phone if he couldn’t remember her mobile number? She checked the answering machine again. Nothing.

  Where were they?

  * * *

  Edward had hoisted Isaac up on to his shoulders, was striding out as fast as he could without dislodging the boy from his perch. He should have left a note for Charlotte, telling her where they were. Or remembered to bring his mobile with him. That would have solved the problem. It was too late now. All he could do was hope that she wasn’t worrying about Isaac.

  He loped up the drive, gravel scrunching beneath his feet. There was no opportunity to pull his keys out of his pocket because the front door flew open. He could see from the way she rubbed her hand across her face that Charlotte was upset, but by the time he reached her she seemed to have regained some of her composure.

  ‘Isaac! How was your day, sweetie?’ Her eyes were red, but she was smiling, trying to pretend to Isaac that nothing was the matter. He let Isaac down and the boy ran to her to give her a hug.

  ‘We had a brilliant time, Mum. We’ve been skimming stones. We’ve got a special method.’

  Her gaze flipped up towards Edward at the mention of the special method and her lips pursed. Before he had a chance to apologise she was smiling at Isaac again.

  ‘That’s great. You’re going to have to show me how you do that.’

  ‘We’ve got a piece of flint, too.’ Isaac twisted his face up towards Edward. ‘Edward’s going to make it into an axe.’

  Right now, putting an axe anywhere within Charlotte’s reach might not be such a good idea. She shot him another glare, and Edward put his hands into his pockets. He didn’t particularly want to go into the house, or to be anywhere near her at the moment. Generally speaking, keeping out of the way until it all blew over was his preferred modus operandi in these situations.

  ‘What’s for tea, Mum?’

  ‘Wait and see. Go inside, now, and take your coat off.’ She stood aside as Isaac ran past her and into the house, then directed her gaze at Edward.

  He already had his car keys in his hand, and had pressed the remote to unlock the doors. She stood, arms folded, in the doorway. ‘And where do you think you’re going?’

  Nowhere. Anywhere. ‘I’ve...um...got to pick something up from the hospital.’

  ‘Something important, no doubt?’

  ‘I guess it must be.’ He turned towards the car and heard the safety catch on the front door flip. Felt her hand catch in the crook of his arm, spinning him round.

  ‘Afraid?’

  ‘Yep. Terrified.’

  He faced her at last. She was trembling with an emotion that he found hard to identify. A cocktail, maybe, of all the feelings that he didn’t much want to think about at the moment.

  ‘And running’s the best option, is it?’

  ‘I’d prefer to call it a tactical retreat.’

  ‘Call it whatever you like.’

  Her chin jutted provocatively. Eyes golden in the early evening sunshine. Her hair was slightly mussed, as if she had dragged it out of the neat knot that she usually wore it in for work and not bothered to comb it.

  ‘Look. You’re angry...’ It was a very old cliché, but she was one of those people who became even more beautiful when angry. ‘I’ll let you go and see to Isaac...’ He wanted to kiss her.

  ‘Unless you hadn’t noticed, Isaac’s perfectly capable of switching the TV on by himself and sitting in front of it for ten minutes.’ Perfectly on cue, the sound of a children’s song washed through from the living room and Isaac’s voice joined in with the melody.

  ‘All the same...’

  ‘Don’t you dare...’

  He felt her hand brush against his and the hairs on his arm stood on end. She pulled the car keys out of his hand and flipped the locking mechanism. Two beeps and a flash of the headlights told Edward that his car had just changed sides and was firmly in her camp now.

  He didn’t much blame it. She was difficult to resist. Throwing a backwards glance at the treacherous machine, he stalked into the house.

  Isaac’s head popped up over the back of the sofa. ‘Edward. Come and see...’

  All his resistance melted. That cornered feeling, which he usually dealt with stony-faced and emotionless, didn’t matter any more. ‘Hey, buddy.’ He strode into the sitting room and plumped himself down next to the boy. ‘Have you washed your hands?’

  Isaac inspected his grubby fingers. ‘No.’

  ‘Well, you’d better do that. Mine could do with a wash as well.’ He led Isaac into the kitchen, kicking the plastic box that he stood on to reach the counter-tops in front of the sink. He squirted a dollop of soap into Isaac’s palm and then soaped his own fingers.

  ‘Is Mum angry with us?’ the boy whispered conspiratorially.

  ‘Nah. Not with you.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that. I’ll handle it.’ Edward didn’t bother with any details of exactly how, on the basis that he hadn’t formulated them yet.

  ‘Do you want to borrow my ray gun?’ Isaac twisted round to face him, splashing water onto his shirt.

  ‘Thanks. But I think I’ll manage.’ He bent down, keeping his voice low. ‘We don’t want to hurt her, do we?’

  Isaac shook his head, taking the other end of the towel that Edward was drying his own hands with.

  ‘I’ll tell you what...’ There were no signs of food preparation in the kitchen. Charlotte had clearly been spending her time glued to the front window, waiting for him to bring Isaac home. ‘Do you like Chinese food?’

  Isaac nodded.

  ‘Okay, then. I’ll go out and get some.’ Isaac shot him a questioning look. Clearly takeaways didn’t figure much in his experience. ‘I’ll bring it home and we can eat it here.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that. I can have something ready in half an hour.’

  Charlotte’s voice sounded from the doorway. If she’d heard the bit about the ray gun she was clearly undaunted by it.

  If she was so keen on him staying in, then she was going to have to put up with the consequences.

  Edward reached for the takeaway menu, taped to the door of the fridge, and handed it to her. ‘There’s a nice place just around the corner. I’ll phone in our o
rder and go and pick it up. We can be eating in fifteen minutes.’

  She gave a little huff and unfolded the card. The strains of another children’s tune floated in from the sitting room and Isaac dropped his end of the towel and ran in to see what was happening on the television.

  ‘Okay.’ Edward closed the door into the sitting room behind the boy. ‘You want to talk.’

  * * *

  She didn’t really. But when Edward had started to retreat back into himself, his face losing all the animation that she saw whenever he talked with Isaac, she’d panicked. It had been as if she was losing him back into the realms of considered thought and few words.

  She twisted her lips together, pretending to read the menu. He came closer.

  ‘Afraid?’ He plucked the menu from her hands and held it behind his back.

  ‘Terrified.’

  ‘Good.’ That tantalising half-smile. ‘I won’t be needing the ray gun, then.’

  ‘If you want to get a takeaway you’d better do it. Otherwise it’ll be no quicker than if I cook.’

  ‘If it’s an apology you want...’

  ‘No.’ She’d overreacted. She was the one who ought to be apologising.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have let you know where we were. I lost track of time and you understandably got worried. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.’

  His blue eyes. You could always tell what was going on in Edward’s head by those eyes. Now they were dark, as if an old anger had seized him.

  ‘It does. I know that I can’t really understand because I’m not a parent....’

  ‘What?’ Where had that come from?

  ‘I’m not stupid. I know what people think of me.’ He turned away from her, one hand slicking his hair back across his head. ‘That I’m too bound up with my books to even notice what’s going on under my nose.’

  Not that again. ‘Face me, Edward.’