A Doctor to Come Home to

by Gill Sanderson

  ‘And?’

  ‘We thought she was DOA,’ said Amy, equally laconically. ‘That means dead on arrival. In fact, technically, she was dead. But we worked on her for half an hour and somehow we got a pulse and then she slowly came to. Her mother was waiting outside. I would have been the nurse who had to show her the body but instead I got to tell her that her daughter had survived, which was good. How would your dad feel if he had to identify your body?’

  The girl stood perfectly still and the silence stretched on. Amy was determined not to break it. But she gave a silent sigh of relief when the girl walked out of the pool. She picked up a towel, wrapped it round herself and sat next to Amy.

  ‘OK,’ the girl said, ‘you got what you wanted and I’m not sure how you did it. Will you tell me?’

  Amy shrugged. ‘I’m a district nurse,’ she said. ‘I go round to people’s homes to meet them. It’s not just dressings and injections, you know, you have to talk to people as well. You didn’t want to risk your life. You wanted someone to talk to.’

  ‘He just won’t listen! Look at me! I’m...I’m...’

  ‘You’re about fourteen,’ said Amy, ‘but you feel much older. And I must say you look much older too.’

  The girl was obviously pleased at that. ‘I’m thirteen,’ she mumbled, ‘but my birthday’s quite soon.’

  Amy nodded. ‘Let me guess. He wouldn’t let you go into town—or off on your own somewhere?’

  ‘There’s a couple of lads who work behind the bar. They said they were going to a night disco and did I want to come.’

  ‘Older lads?’

  ‘What do you think? Of course they were. Anyway, I said I was going to bed early. Dad was downstairs so I crept out of my room; I was going to take a taxi into town. Then I realised that I had no money. But I had to do something so I came here for a swim.’

  ‘Sometimes it’s hard, being thirteen,’ said Amy. ‘I’m Amy Harrison, by the way. You are?’

  ‘Johanne—Johanne Ross. Pleased to meet you.’

  There was a slightly formal handshake and then Amy said, ‘Well, Johanne, if you’re going to swim I’ll sit here and watch you. Or if you’ve calmed down, you can go back to your room. I told you I’m a district nurse, I see a lot of girls your age. You might think it hard, having an over-protective father. Believe me, it’s worse having one who doesn’t care at all.’

  There was silence for a while, and Amy tried to remain apparently indifferent.

  ‘Thanks for the talk. Guess I’ll go back into my room,’ said Johanne. Quickly, she dressed. ‘I’ll probably see you around. Good night, Amy.’ And she was gone.

  Amy sat there in the darkness. She hoped she had helped solve Johanne’s problems, she remembered how hard life had seemed at that age. Then she wished it was as easy to solve her own problems. She went back to Elizabeth.

  Next day she had booked a day out. She went with Elizabeth on a coach trip to the north shore and they thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They were back quite early, and Amy put Elizabeth to bed for an afternoon sleep. Her little girl had asked if she could stay up late, just once, to watch the dancing. ‘Just once,’ Amy had said. ‘And I’ll let you put my new chiffon scarf round your head.’

  ‘Chiffon scarf!’ said the delighted Elizabeth. ‘I’m going to be beautiful!’

  ‘You are beautiful, darling,’ Amy said.

  So they went down to dinner together and then they went out to sit by the pool. Elizabeth was entranced. She loved the lights, the band playing on the other side of the pool. Amy stroked her daughter’s hair. It was good that they were happy together. Vaguely, she wondered if she’d see Johanne. She’d like to chat to the girl again.

  She looked up to see a man approaching. He was walking carefully round the pool edge, looking apparently casually at the people sitting down, as if he was searching for someone but didn’t want to be too obtrusive. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, though because of the low lights round the pool his face was in shadow. Then it became obvious that he was approaching their table—not another man asking her to dance? But Amy was sure she hadn’t noticed or spoken to him before. She would have remembered.

  He came to their table, turned and looked at Amy. Amy shivered with apprehension. What did he want? As his face came into the light she felt a charge run through her body. It was a feeling she had known before—but not for years now. The knowledge that a man was interested in her as a woman. And then he saw her more clearly. He frowned, looked puzzled, and she knew that he was feeling the same. She shook herself, she was being silly.

  He spoke, and she loved his voice. Deep, musical, with a caressing tone that made, her feel instantly that this man was interested solely in her. She shook herself again. It was a voice, no more.

  Cautiously, he asked, ‘Excuse me, am I talking to Amy Harrison?’

  ‘Yes, I’m Amy Harrison.’ Where had he learned her name?

  Then she found out. ‘Ah, the district nurse. I’m Adam Ross, Dr Adam Ross. I’m Johanne’s father. Do you think I might sit down a moment?’

  Amy hesitated a moment and then said, ‘Of course.’

  He took a seat, looked at Elizabeth and said, still cautiously, ‘May I ask if it’s Mrs or Miss Harrison?’

  Amy hesitated again. Then she said firmly, ‘I’m Miss Harrison—now. I used to be Mrs Handing but now I’m not married and I went back to my maiden name. And this is my daughter Elizabeth—also Miss Harrison.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you both.’ He shook hands with her, and then, solemnly, with Elizabeth. ‘That’s a very nice scarf you’re wearing in your hair Elizabeth.’

  ‘It’s chiffon! And it’s my mummy’s.’ Elizabeth was delighted.

  ‘Miss Harrison, I think you know how grateful I should be to you. May I get you a drink? There’s a Cava here that I very much like. And an orange juice for Elizabeth? With a bendy straw?’

  ‘I want a bendy straw,’ said Elizabeth.

  For a moment Amy thought of saying no. Accept a drink from a total stranger? But she was on holiday, so why not? ‘Thank you, I’d like that, and Elizabeth would love an orange with a bendy straw. Where’s Johanne tonight?’

  ‘She’ll be with us in a moment. I said I wanted to speak to you first. In fact, she feels a bit...foolish I suppose.’

  ‘No need, she’s young. We were all young once.’

  He winced. ‘Was I like Johanne? Were you like Johanne? Please, don’t answer, I don’t like to think of it.

  He lifted his arm, a waiter moved over at once to take the order.

  ‘Did you ask for a bendy straw?’ Elizabeth demanded when the waiter had left.

  ‘I asked. But we must wait and see, you might get a surprise. Ah, here’s Johanne.’

  Johanne looked a little nervous as she approached the table, sat in the seat that her father courteously pulled out for her. She smiled at Amy, cast a careful eye at her father as if wondering what had been already said.

  Before there could be any more conversation the waiter returned with the first half of the order—the Cava had to be fetched from the cellars. There was lemonade for Johanne and an orange for Elizabeth—with not one bendy straw, but two. There was also a little monkey figure, mounted on a spring and fastened to the edge of the glass. When Elizabeth picked up her glass the figure bounced and waved and rocked. She thought it wonderful. ‘Look, Mummy, he’s dancing! My monkey is dancing like all of those people there. I was dancing this morning with the Beach Babes!’

  ‘My name is Johanne,’ Johanne said to her. ‘Would you like to dance here, with me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elizabeth said after a moment’s thought. ‘Then I can come back and play with my monkey.’

  Once again Johanne looked at her father. He said, ‘If Miss Harrison doesn’t mind, I think that would be a wonderful idea.’

  ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea too,’ said Amy.

  ‘Come on, Beach Babe,’ said Johanne, and led Elizabeth onto the dance floor.

  ‘
Since our families are becoming friends,’ Amy said, ‘perhaps we should do the same. Amy and Adam from now on?’

  ‘Amy and Adam. I think that has a definite ring to it.’

  He looked at her in silence as the waiter returned with the chilled bottle and the two champagne flutes, and poured the wine. The two of them lifted their glasses and sipped together, still without speaking.

  Surprisingly, Amy didn’t feel nervous. In fact, she was recognising feelings she hadn’t known in years. This man was...attractive. She liked the way he walked, the way he looked, the courteous way he had introduced himself. She liked his voice, the slightly long hair, the craggy face. Then she shut down the feelings. She didn’t ever want to experience that kind of thing again.

  Adam said, ‘Last night you talked to my daughter.’ His voice hardened for a moment. ‘She left her room—against my express wishes—and was about to do something stupid like go for a midnight bathe. She said that you talked to her. You didn’t argue with her, force her to do anything she didn’t want. You didn’t even suggest. But because of you she came back.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have known, but she confessed this morning.’ His expression changed, became half hurt, half perplexed. ‘I didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘So have you got things sorted out between you?’ Amy asked. ‘She does love you, you know.’

  He laughed. ‘Sorted out? For the moment, yes. I love her too, though at times she makes me very angry. It’s hard, bringing her up. I suspect I’m not very good at it.’

  ‘If you try, you can’t go too far wrong,’ Amy said.

  ‘Perhaps not.’ He shook his head, as if to shake away irritating thoughts. ‘But I didn’t come here to burden you with my problems. I came here to say thank you for helping Johanne. I really am most grateful.’

  ‘I liked her, we got on. What I did was nothing.’

  ‘It was a lot to me.’ He turned to look at the dance floor. ‘In spite of the age difference, our two children seem to be getting on.’

  ‘Johanne seems good with her, and Elizabeth is a chatterbox. She’ll talk to anyone—she’s not shy like me. She loves music and dancing.’

  Behind them the band stopped playing its rather cheerful, upbeat number. The bandleader smiled and acknowledged the applause—led by Elizabeth and, after a while, Johanne. Then he gave the signal for another, slower number. ‘Would you like to dance, Amy?’ Adam asked.

  She hesitated—but just for a moment. A quick glance told her Elizabeth and Johanne were still engrossed. ‘Yes, I would,’ she said.

  It was a slow dance. There weren’t too many couples on the dance floor but enough so that the two of them didn’t stand out. Adam was a good dancer; the firmness of his arm guided her well. She hadn’t danced—really danced—with a man she felt attracted to for years now. And it didn’t feel too bad.

  Slowly, they circled the floor. There were open skies above, clear stars, the softness of a gentle breeze. It was romantic, she thought, and then laughed quietly to herself.

  ‘I used to love dancing,’ she said, ‘though I’ve hardly done any recently. And you’re very good.’

  ‘I used to love it, too. But life gets in the way of what you really want to do.’

  ‘You are telling me,’ she said. Then they were silent for a while, and she was perfectly content.

  They went back to their table. Elizabeth and Johanne were there now, roaring with laughter. Adam poured Amy and himself another glass of the sparkling white wine and ordered more orange and lemonade. And shortly after that it was time to take Elizabeth to bed. Amy could see that she was tiring.

  ‘We’re going on to Palma to look round tomorrow,’ Johanne said. ‘Will we see you tomorrow night? I’ve enjoyed being with Elizabeth.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘This was a special treat,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow Elizabeth has dinner in her room and goes to bed at the proper time.’

  ‘Then will just you join us for dinner?’ Adam asked. ‘Meet for a drink first, at the bar, about eight o’clock?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ said Amy.

  Next evening Amy found herself rather looking forward to meeting Adam and Johanne. She tried to persuade herself that it was Johanne that she was really interested in—but she knew it wasn’t true.

  She decided to wear a dress that so far had remained in the wardrobe. It was dark blue, and more than a little revealing. Amy looked at herself in the mirror, reminded herself that she mustn’t bend forward. Then she put on her make-up—perhaps with more than usual care.

  Johanne and Adam were waiting for her downstairs. Adam smiled, looked quietly pleased to see her. And Johanne beamed.

  Adam was dressed much as he had been the evening before—in a dark linen suit, but this time with a white shirt instead of yesterday’s pale green. Like nearly all the men there, he wore no tie. Amy thought he looked quietly elegant. Johanne, too, had obviously made an effort.

  ‘I love your dress,’ Johanne said to Amy. ‘I wish I had one like that.’

  Behind her, Amy saw Adam raise his eyebrows. He obviously thought—rightly—that this was not a young girl’s dress. She managed to restrain a smile. ‘I like your dress too,’ she said mildly to Johanne.

  Johanne rolled her eyes. ‘An evening dress? It’s got sleeves! Guess who bought it for me.’

  ‘Let’s go through, shall we?’ Amy said smoothly.

  Amy enjoyed dinner. They talked about various safe things. Johanne asked if she could have wine, but when her father said that lemonade was better she glowered a bit but accepted it with good grace. Amy could see that she was trying to behave well, to make a good impression. And at the end of the meal she said, ‘Dad, Amy, I’m feeling a bit tired. D’you mind if I go to my room, watch a video? I’m falling asleep here.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Adam said. ‘You’ve had a long day.’

  So Johanne kissed Adam then, after a moment, Amy as well, and left. Adam and Amy looked at each other, suddenly thrown together. Amy guessed he was thinking the same as her. Where would the evening end? She didn’t know herself.

  Diffidently, he said, ‘Dinner’s over now. Shall we get a table and a bottle, or would you like to walk a little?’

  ‘I’d love a walk,’ Amy said without hesitation. ‘It’s such a lovely evening. We’ve got an hour or so before I need to get back to Elizabeth.’

  They set off down one of the little paths running between the pools, the changing cabins and the gardens. They met a few other couples walking along, hand in hand or arm in arm, and Amy wondered what she should do if he tried to hold her hand. She thought that she didn’t want him to. But there was no problem as he didn’t try. She began to wonder if she felt disappointed.

  Eventually they were on their own, on a rocky promontory. Silver light from the moon illuminated the sea. The sounds from the hotel were now distant. Below them was the hiss and gentle roar of the sea.

  They sat on a convenient bench, some distance apart. ‘I’m glad we can have some time on our own,’ he said. ‘I wanted to talk to you and this seems a good place for it.’

  He stared around him and then said, his voice cynical, ‘Romantic here, isn’t it?’

  She looked at him, rather disturbed. ‘You don’t sound romantic,’ she said. ‘But I know what you mean. And if you’re interested, I share your feelings about romance. It’s a con. Why did you want to talk to me?’

  He didn’t reply at once. She could tell he was having difficulty in beginning. ‘The first reason is because I think you’re a good listener. And you give good advice. What I heard about you from Johanne impressed me. I like you for what you did for her. Then I met you—last night and tonight—and I was...I suppose...attracted to you.’

  ‘I’ve heard more stirring declarations,’ said Amy, ‘but go on.’

  He shrugged. ‘That’s as far as it goes. Now I think it’s your turn. Tell me what you think. Do you really know? I don’t think I do.’

  Te
ll him what she thought. That was hard. Cautiously, she said, ‘Neither of us can judge each other, we’ve barely spent half a dozen hours together. But what I’ve seen of you I guess I like. But I’ve been married. I made a big mistake and I don’t want the bother of another man.’

  He laughed. ‘Another stirring declaration.’

  There was silence for a while, but she felt it was a companionable silence. Then he said, ‘I get the feeling that we are two wounded people. We’re wary of what other people call romance. Sometimes, when you talk, you have a hunted look—as if you’re not sure that other people mean you well. I’d like to know why. D’you want to tell me your story?’

  She considered this. ‘Not much,’ she said. ‘It’s boring. Other people’s troubles always are. And I’m not going to feel sorry for myself by going over it again. Anyway, why are you wounded?’

  ‘Also boring,’ he said after a while.

  There was a pause, both of them looked out to sea. He moved his hand. She wondered if he would try to hold hers but, slightly to her disappointment, he didn’t. Instead he took a coin from his pocket, spun it in the air and caught and covered it on the back of his hand. ‘We’ll bore each other,’ he said. ‘Heads or tails. If you get it wrong you go first. OK?’

  It didn’t take her long to decide. ‘OK...I choose heads.’

  He lifted his hand. The coin showed tails.

  She couldn’t speak at first. After a moment he said, his voice kind, ‘If you feel you’re not up to it that’s fine. Just do what you feel. But I really would like to know about you.’

  Another pause. Then she said, ‘Right, I’ll tell you.’

  Chapter Three

  She’d never told anyone the full story. A lot of her friends knew part or all of it—but this was the first time she had ever gone over it from start to finish.

  ‘My name’s Amy Elizabeth Harrison and I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m a district nurse in Lissom, which is a small town in Derbyshire. I love the place and I love my work. I have a daughter Elizabeth whom I dote on. I manage to bring her up and work because my mother happily helps out.’