Rivals in Practice

by Alison Roberts

  ‘That’s great,’ Jennifer told him. ‘But take those boots off before you go inside.’

  It took another minute to sweep up the debris Michael had left. Andrew wandered to the clean end of the verandah to stay out of Jennifer’s way. He leaned on the railing, gazing down from the vantage point the house provided, seeming content to admire the view of the sunset over the harbour and hills. Jennifer propped the broom beside the door.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  Andrew nodded. ‘This is an amazing little corner of the world. I’ve never been here before despite the time I’ve spent in Christchurch. I always thought I had to leave the country to find the best parts of the world.’

  Jennifer smiled. ‘What is it they say? Don’t leave town till you’ve seen the country. We often ignore the things right under our noses. They become ordinary because of the familiarity.’ She joined Andrew at the railing. ‘How did you get on with Tom?’

  ‘He’s a nice guy. I enjoyed our session at the pub. He introduced me to a few locals.’ Andrew glanced sideways with a grin. ‘You were a popular subject for conversation. I heard a lot about you.’

  ‘All good, I hope,’ Jennifer said lightly.

  Andrew’s gaze was now thoughtful. ‘They think the world of you around here. And they’re proud of you. I almost got the impression of ownership.’

  Jennifer shrugged modestly. ‘I’m one of them. My family has always been here. As a doctor I get involved in people’s lives. Sometimes it’s not a good thing. It can become too personal which makes it difficult to be objective.’

  ‘Talking about personal, I met one chap who reckons he should be your grandfather by rights.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘That would have to be Charlie.’

  ‘I can’t remember his name. I got introduced to too many people.’

  ‘Looks like a gnome? Very short with a rim of fluffy white hair and he’s ancient. Could pass for about a hundred and ten, though he’s only in his nineties.’

  ‘That’s him. He was wearing an oilskin coat and gumboots. Looked rather strange.’

  ‘He was a fisherman. Still hangs out around the boats. He’s as tough as they come. I wouldn’t be surprised if he does live well past a hundred. He can trace his stock back to the whalers that came from Normandy. He reckons his mother was born on the Comte de Paris which was the ship that brought the first settlers to Akaroa in 1840. There’s no record of the birth, though, and she would have been a bit old by the time he was born, but nobody wants to point that out to Charlie.’

  ‘So what’s with the grandfather bit?’

  ‘That could be his imaginative version of history as well. He says he was engaged to my grandmother until my grandfather stole her away.’

  ‘Not true?’

  ‘I have my doubts. One thing I do remember about Gran is that she couldn’t stand the smell of fish. I suspect the prospect of being the wife of a fisherman wouldn’t have held much appeal.’

  ‘What did your grandfather do?’

  ‘Took over the farm from his father who was one of the first settlers. He cleared this land himself, married an English girl a few years later and they had twelve children. I’ve got people who are related to me in some way all over the countryside.’

  ‘So you’ve got a good dose of French blood? Do you feel any connection with that part of your heritage?’

  ‘Hard not to around here. The French connection is something that Akaroa is proud of. The street names, the architecture, even some of the original trees are being carefully preserved.’

  ‘I think it was Charlie who claimed that everyone should actually be speaking French in these parts. Your ancestors were all cheated.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘It’s true in a way. A Frenchman came here on a whaling ship in 1838 and decided that the peninsula would be the perfect place to start the French colonisation of the South Island. He apparently made a deed of purchase with local Maori chiefs, went back home and got backing from the French government, which led to the arrival of the first ship carrying settlers. They arrived to find that the Treaty of Waitangi had been signed only a couple of days earlier and that they were now in a British colony. My great-grandfather was one of those settlers. He did hang onto his native language enough to make sure his children were fluent. I remember my grandfather could curse wonderfully in French.’

  ‘Must be quite special to have so much of a bond with a place. Somewhere that has such deep ties to your own family history.’ Andrew took another long glance at the panoramic view as the light faded even further. He sighed almost imperceptibly. ‘I haven’t got anything like that. My mother remarried when I was seven. We’d been on the move for years before that and I have no memories at all of my father. I certainly never felt like I belonged after that. I was an outsider but nobody bothered telling me where I did belong.’

  ‘Must have been tough.’ Jennifer could hear the children in the house behind them and was reminded that it was well past time to prepare dinner. Saskia would be busy bathing her baby. Jennifer was also reminded of the rapport the teenager and Andrew had achieved in such a short time. And no wonder. ‘I can see why Saskia finds you such a sympathetic ear,’ she told Andrew. ‘It’s good that she has someone to talk to who can really understand.’

  ‘She’s going to be OK. Did she tell you that her father is coming to visit her tomorrow? I’m going to look after Angus and Vanessa when she goes to meet him for lunch in town. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to see where she was living—just in case things don’t work out.’

  ‘I hope they do,’ Jennifer said fervently.

  ‘Maybe she’ll want to go back home. How would you manage without her?’

  ‘Goodness knows,’ Jennifer said. ‘I guess we’ll just have to face that crisis if and when it arrives. I’m sure we’d manage. Fielding crises is all part of the plot around here.’

  Minor crises did indeed crop up with customary frequency that evening. Angus tripped over Zippy and gave himself a painful bump on his forehead. The twins squabbled furiously over whose turn it was to feed Sonic, and Vanessa decided she wasn’t going to go to sleep. The baby was screaming vigorously long after the twins and Angus had gone to bed. Michael was sulking because Andrew had banned him from playing on the computer. Jennifer met them on the stairs as she took a dose of paracetamol up to Vanessa. The new tooth coming through was clearly painful enough to be causing tonight’s disturbance and Saskia was tired and wanted to go to bed herself.

  ‘Time for bed, Mike,’ Jennifer said in passing. ‘Don’t forget to clean your teeth.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘No buts,’ Jennifer added firmly. She could hear Vanessa’s crying gaining magnitude. ‘Get a move on.’

  Michael scowled but Jennifer was surprised that his look was directed at Andrew. Andrew seemed unperturbed.

  ‘We made a deal, remember?’ he said calmly. ‘You were going to clean your rugby boots and then you could have a game on the computer before bedtime.’

  ‘I could clean them now,’ Michael offered quickly.

  ‘Too late, I’m afraid. Jen says it’s bedtime.’

  Jennifer was tempted to offer another ten minutes but she stopped herself, curious to see how Michael would deal with the gentle discipline. Andrew was waiting for Michael to catch him up at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘A deal’s a deal, Mike. You have to keep your end of the bargain, and that includes keeping to time. It’s very important to be a man of your word.’

  Michael was in bed five minutes later. Jennifer grinned at Andrew when she went back downstairs to find him sitting by the fire. ‘You’re a hard man, Andrew Stephenson.’

  ‘Is he upset?’

  ‘He’s looked resigned rather than aggrieved.’ Jennifer curled herself up on the hearthrug and reached out to stroke the dogs with a contented sigh. ‘This is good,’ she remarked. ‘My favourite part of the day.’

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m interfering,’ Andrew told her. ‘Wi
th Michael, I mean.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Jennifer assured him. ‘You’re doing wonders for Mike.’ She cast Andrew a speculative glance. ‘It’s just a shame you don’t practise what you preach.’

  ‘What?’ Andrew looked startled.

  ‘A deal’s a deal, is it?’ Jennifer bit back her smile.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So when are you going to get around to keeping the deal you made with me? I kept my end of the bargain. I told you my story about why I never married Hamish. You, however, have not enlightened me about what I wanted to know.’

  ‘Which was?’ Andrew looked uncomfortable. ‘I was pretty sick, you know. I could have been delirious at the time.’

  Jennifer wasn’t going to let him escape. Her curiosity had surfaced again in this time of domestic peace and she was determined to learn more about Andrew. The desire to know more—preferably on a personal level—was surprising in its intensity. ‘You agreed to tell me why you gave up practising medicine,’ she said quietly. ‘And why you were on honeymoon with a non-existent wife. A deal’s a deal, Andrew,’ she added solemnly. ‘So tell!’

  Andrew was silent for a long moment. Jennifer waited, rubbing Elvis’s silky ear as the dog settled against her. She began to wonder whether she should have pushed quite so soon. Maybe the story was too painful to tell. She didn’t want to cause this man any pain. In fact, she was aware of a ridiculous urge to protect Andrew—to tell him that it really didn’t matter and if he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. On the point of opening her mouth, Jennifer’s reassurance was pre-empted by Andrew’s sigh of resignation.

  ‘It’s the same story, in a way. I’m just not sure where to begin.’

  ‘Start with the last time I heard any news about you,’ Jennifer encouraged, her reluctance evaporating. ‘It must have been about three years ago when you left the Boston Memorial and went private.’

  ‘Seems like as good a place as any. That’s certainly where it all began.’ Andrew shook his head. ‘I should have stayed at the Memorial. I might have been overworked and relatively underpaid but I was happy enough.’

  ‘Why did you leave, then?’

  ‘The lure of fame and fortune, I guess. The head surgeon at the J.J. Shuster Institute of Health was a man called William Chadwick. William James Chadwick the third, no less. Extremely wealthy, highly sought after, connected with local politics. The works. I was flattered to be chosen by him to join the team. They had a well-deserved reputation for brilliance and it was just the sort of unit I’d always dreamed of belonging to back in medical school days.’

  ‘You and me both.’ Jennifer smiled. ‘So it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be?’

  ‘Oh, initially it was. It was fantastic. Interesting cases, superb facilities. A great team to work with. Very friendly, very dedicated and all very loyal to William Chadwick. I was one of them. I made an incredible amount of money doing what I loved doing. My social life took a leap into an echelon I’d never expected, and I became engaged to Chadwick’s daughter, Cassandra. She’d been a cheerleader at college and then a model for a while. By the time we were introduced she was over thirty and probably under pressure to settle down and produce William James Chadwick the fourth. Her father pushed us both into the relationship but neither of us really resisted. He was like that. He got his own way but he did it with such charm and successful results that everyone eventually fell into line.’

  ‘Did you love Cassandra?’

  Andrew gave Jennifer a slow glance. ‘Not in the way you should if you’re going to share someone’s life, but I didn’t have anyone like that and I didn’t think I ever would. It might have been less than perfect but it was better than nothing. In fact, it was better than anything I’d ever had. I actually felt like I belonged somewhere for the first time in my life. These people wanted me—or so I thought. I went along with the plans for a huge wedding. We were allotted a twelve-month engagement to allow time for the preparations. Cassie thought the idea of a honeymoon travelling around New Zealand in a camper van was cute so I made the bookings more than a year ago.’ Andrew sighed heavily. ‘I must have been blind. Maybe it was lucky I found out before it was too late.’

  ‘Found out what, precisely?’

  ‘That I was being used. That I was highly expendable and they really didn’t give a damn about me.’

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘There was a huge social occasion that Cassie and I attended, along with William Chadwick. A senator who was his closest friend was celebrating some political triumph. The evening turned into a disaster when the senator’s fairly recent and much younger wife suddenly collapsed. The senator, William and I rushed her off to the hospital where it became evident that she had a haemorrhage from a duodenal ulcer and required urgent surgery. The senator insisted that nobody but William was going to operate on his wife. I tried to stop him. We’d both been drinking that evening but William was in charge as usual and swept ahead with the arrangements. He wanted me to assist. I wasn’t happy but I’d had much less than him to drink and William made it clear that my future was on the line.’

  ‘That’s appalling,’ Jennifer breathed. ‘He threatened to fire you?’

  ‘He was angry. I’d suggested he wasn’t fit to operate and nobody ever criticised William. I’d made the mistake of suggesting we call in another member of the team in front of an influential friend. The senator was as amazed as William that I could have the nerve to think someone else could do a better job.’

  ‘I take it the surgery didn’t go well?’

  ‘The woman died,’ Andrew said flatly. ‘William not only bungled the surgery but when she started bleeding out he panicked. He wouldn’t let me, or anyone else, get near the woman and he failed totally to control the situation. By the time I actually knocked him out of the way, it was too late.’

  Jennifer was staring, wide-eyed. ‘And you took the blame?’

  ‘You said it. William’s story was that he realised he’d had too much alcohol to be safe and that I claimed not to have had anything at all to drink. And that I did the surgery myself.’

  ‘But there were other people there! Theatre staff—the anaesthetist, nurses. Witnesses.’

  ‘William’s people. They fell into line. He managed everything ruthlessly. He even had the police take a blood sample from me so that they could proved I had been lying about my alcohol intake. The results were hardly damning but they were positive. And that’s not something I’m proud of.’

  ‘So you got fired.’ Jennifer’s words fell into the heavy silence.

  ‘I got sued. I lost everything I owned and more. My reputation was ruined. I’m still waiting for the official result of the malpractice suit and being possibly struck off the medical register. I lost my career and my future. And, of course, Cassandra dumped me very quickly and very publicly. The newspapers and television had the sort of feast the Americans enjoy so much. There were famous names involved and such a clear scapegoat.’

  Jennifer shook her head with disbelief. ‘And nobody spoke up for you?’

  ‘Nobody.’

  Andrew didn’t meet Jennifer’s eyes. Her reaction to his story was profound. She believed his version of the events completely and the thought that he’d received no support—from anybody—wrenched something deep inside her. She reached out and took Andrew’s hand. Maybe she wanted to let him know that not everybody could be so callous. Maybe she wanted to let him know she understood—and cared. Andrew’s hand gripped hers and for nearly a minute they simply sat there holding hands. They sat in complete silence but Jennifer knew that her message had been received and understood. The brief glance that Andrew gave her when he released her hand was one of gratitude.

  ‘I think I’d better head off to bed.’ Andrew’s smile was wry. ‘I had no idea that being a man of one’s word could be so exhausting.’

  ‘Sleep well,’ Jennifer said gently. ‘And, Andrew?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Thanks for tell
ing me. It can’t have been an easy thing to talk about.’

  Andrew held her gaze and then shook his head slowly. ‘I left the States as soon as I could and just kept moving. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it since then. And even when it was all hitting the fan I never had anyone to tell. No one whose opinion mattered.’

  Jennifer’s smile was shy. She liked the idea that her opinion mattered. Andrew turned to leave but stopped at Jennifer’s soft call.

  ‘Drew?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I’m glad you told me.’

  Andrew looked solemn. ‘A deal’s a deal.’

  Jennifer was smiling now. ‘And you’re a man of your word.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ The gaze they held went on. And on. Jennifer didn’t know which of them broke the eye contact but it really didn’t matter. The message was there and clearly received on both sides.

  ‘Sleep well, Jen.’

  Jennifer made no response other than a smile. She doubted whether she would sleep at all well. The web of circumstances that had pulled her closer to Andrew Stephenson had just become a great deal tighter. She was being drawn close enough to want the contact on a much more personal level. She wanted to touch and be touched. The heightened awareness Jennifer had noticed around Andrew had just exploded into a physical desire the likes of which Jennifer had never contemplated the possibility of experiencing.

  Jennifer closed her eyes. Her sigh came out as a faint groan. Sleep well, indeed. Fat chance of that!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IT WAS only a matter of time now.

  Time and opportunity. The sexual energy that charged the atmosphere was so noticeable to Jennifer that she was amazed it didn’t stop everybody else in their tracks. Like nurse Wendy Granger who ushered Andrew into the treatment room early on Monday afternoon. Or Dr Brian Wallace, who poked his head through the doorway a few minutes later just as Jennifer had removed the dressing on Andrew’s leg.

  ‘You’re looking a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you,’ he told Andrew.