St. Piran's: The Wedding of The Year

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘I had an hour this morning.’

  ‘You might want to get your head down as well, then.’

  He shook his head. ‘No time. I can’t leave Kate without back-up. Oh, and I’ll need Chloe to find some stuff for them both. She’s got a key to Kate’s place. Kate’s house keys were on her car keys, and they got left in it. I expect the police have taken them. I need to follow that up.’

  He got to his feet with a sigh, put his mug on the draining board and paused at the door. ‘Sam—thanks.’

  ‘What for? I owe you more than I can ever repay, Nick. You go and look after your son, and leave the practice to us. We can manage.’

  He laughed. ‘Easy for you to say, you’re booking yourself out on paternity leave as of now!’

  ‘The others can cope. They love a challenge. Go on, shove off.’

  He shoved. Half an hour later, after a rapid shower and a desperately-needed shave, dressed in clean trousers and an open-necked casual shirt and feeling a little more human, he headed back to the hospital, armed with Chloe’s love for Kate and Jeremiah, the spare key to her cottage and a bag of toiletries and clothes for each of them, which Chloe had kindly picked up while he had been sorting himself out.

  He got back at a little after one-thirty, and found Kate sitting by Jem’s bed, her face exhausted.

  ‘How is he?’ he asked, putting the bags down by the chair, and she shrugged.

  ‘The same, really. He’s in a lot of pain—they’ve just given him more painkillers, and he’s gone to sleep at last. Jess came and sat with me for a while, she’s very kind. Oh, and Lucy popped in a little while ago—she’s going to come back later when you’re here. She sends her love. And Jack’s been up again.’

  He nodded, his eyes welling up. Lucy had sent her love. And Jack had been back, too, giving up his time to a brother he hadn’t known he had. It didn’t surprise him. His twins were both kind and generous to a fault, and he was immensely proud of them.

  ‘Have you had lunch?’

  She shook her head. ‘I didn’t like to leave him. Have you?’

  ‘No—but he’s asleep now, so why don’t we pop down to the café and grab something while the going’s good?’

  She nodded, and got stiffly to her feet, easing out the kinks and giving him a wry smile. They told the nurses where they were going, then she fell into step beside him as they headed for the café.

  ‘Oh, it’s nice to move. I’ve been so afraid to make a noise in case I disturbed him.’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘I’m sorry I was so long, but I had to sort out the fallout at the surgery, and I got sick of everyone telling me I needed a shower. So, do I look better?’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Just a bit.’ Actually, she’d quite liked him with the roguish stubbled look, but it was better to have him back with her—much better. She’d missed him. He’d been gone what felt like ages, and it had been a bit of an emotional roller coaster watching Jem in pain. It was good to step off the ride for a moment now he was comfortably asleep.

  Nick looked up at the menu, then glanced at her. ‘What are you having?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Vegetables! All I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours is sandwiches. I’m sick of bread.’

  ‘They’ve got salads.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I’ll get you one. Go and sit down over there by the window and relax,’ he ordered, so she went, and a few moments later he set a laden tray down in front of her.

  She tried to summon up some enthusiasm. ‘That looks nice,’ she lied. ‘What do I owe you?’

  ‘Owe me?’

  ‘For my lunch.’

  He scowled at her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I got you a fruit smoothie as well as the salad because I know you like them and I thought you were probably sick of tea and coffee, too.’

  ‘I am.’ She gave him a tired little smile, all she could manage. ‘Thank you, Nick.’

  He scowled again. ‘Don’t keep thanking me. I’ve made a complete fist of everything I’ve ever done for you. It’s high time I started balancing the books.’

  If only. She gave a quiet sigh and picked up her knife and fork, wondering how long she was going to be based at the hospital and when she’d be able to go home and lie down in her own bed, just for an hour or two. She was so tired, so very, very tired...

  ‘Kate?’

  She pushed her plate away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not really hungry.’

  ‘You’re exhausted. You should be in bed.’

  ‘I can’t, Nick. I have to be here for him. Tomorrow. I’ll go home tomorrow—maybe in the morning, once we’ve seen Martin Bradley and we know if he’s happy with him. I could go home then and have a rest.’

  ‘OK. But if you’re doing that, you’re eating your salad now. Come on, you can do it.’

  And so, with him coaxing and cajoling her, she finished most of it, drank the smoothie and then realised she was feeling more human. ‘You’re so sickeningly right always, aren’t you?’ she said with a smile, and a fleeting frown crossed his face.

  ‘Now I know you need sleep,’ he said gruffly, and stabbed his fork into the last slice of tomato on his plate and put it in his mouth.

  She laughed at him. ‘That’s better,’ she said softly. ‘You sound more like the old Nick.’

  He pushed his plate away and thought about it, realising she was right. ‘I feel better. It’s amazing what a shower and a square meal can do. I’ve brought you some things, by the way. Chloe sorted them out—she sends her love. Well, everyone at the practice sends their love,’ he amended with a smile that felt distinctly crooked. ‘I told them he’s my son,’ he added, his voice low. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I asked them to keep it quiet.’

  ‘How did they take it?’

  He shrugged. ‘It was odd. They didn’t seem at all surprised. In fact, they were incredibly supportive. Chloe had arranged cover for you for the rest of this week already, but I’ve told her I’m writing you off sick for four weeks—’

  ‘Four? Why?’

  He smiled again, this time a little wryly. ‘Because you’ve got whiplash,’ he reminded her.

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘I’m sure you have. You’re having four weeks to get over it, whatever,’ he told her, and, actually, she found she didn’t mind his high-handed approach this time, because she needed the time to devote to Jem, and it wasn’t entirely false. Her neck was a little sore.

  She rolled it, wincing slightly, and he found himself aching to ease it for her, to massage it gently until it relaxed so she could get some relief. ‘Sam’s signing off on paternity leave—and, no, Gemma’s not in labour, as far as I know, but he wasn’t quite sure if she was on the verge this morning so he’s booked a locum anyway.’

  ‘She’s a week overdue,’ Kate said, biting her lip. ‘I should be there for her.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Chloe’s there, she’ll look after her. And Sam is a doctor. They should be able to cope without you. And Sam’s getting a locum to cover me for the next week at least, unless they really can’t manage without me. I want to be here for you both,’ he added, when she started to protest.

  She said nothing for a moment, then sighed softly. ‘Thank you. I don’t know how I would have coped without you yesterday and last night.’

  ‘I would have been here anyway, Kate,’ he told her quietly. ‘Even if he wasn’t my son, I would have been here for you.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, I know you would. That’s the funny thing about you, you’re so generous, so kind, so helpful, but if anybody dares to realise it, you get so uncomfortable—look, you’re doing it now.’

  She shook her head slowly, carefully folding her paper napkin for something to do with her hands, because it would have been so easy to reach out to him, to take the hand lying on the table, fiddling with the little sugar packets.

  ‘We ought to tell Jem, I suppose,’ he murmured. ‘Nobody in the hospital apart from Jack and Ben knows, so it shouldn’t leak out, which means
we can tell him when the time’s right.’

  He carried on fiddling, piling up the sugar packets and pushing them into straight lines with his fingertip. ‘I’d just like to do it when I’ve had a chance to build a relationship with him—made friends with him, got to know him a bit better. You’re right, I haven’t ever really talked to him, or spent meaningful time with him, and it’s time I did. Time I gave him a chance to get to know me, too. And it’ll give you a bit of a break as well, if we’re sharing the visiting. It’s going to be a long haul.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, I know. It should be better once he’s on the mend, though. They have lessons and activities and he’ll be doing physio, and there will be other kids for him to talk to. And his friends’ll be able to visit in a few days’ time, so that’ll take the heat off us, too.’

  And who knew? They might even find some time to be together themselves. That was a novel thought, but probably not one that would lead to anything. She’d do well to keep reminding herself of that fact, because it would be all too easy to fall into the habit of relying on him only to find he wasn’t there when it came to the crunch.

  She was sure he meant well, and maybe this time he really thought he could do it, but she wasn’t holding her breath.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MEGAN PHILLIPS, the pretty young paediatric registrar who’d been on call overnight, was waiting for them at the nursing station.

  ‘We’ve got his blood results,’ she began, and Nick felt his heart stall.

  Don’t let him have a problem. Not thrombocytopenia, he thought. Please don’t let it be that, don’t let him have DIC.

  ‘He’s OK now, but the biochemistry was a bit skewed. We needed to tweak some of the components, but it probably explains why he was feeling a bit rough. We’ve started an infusion and he should be fine now. We’ll check it again in a while, OK?’

  Relief hit him like a wall, and he smiled and thanked her, wishing, as a doctor, he didn’t know so much. Ignorance would be bliss, he thought as he ushered Kate back into the side room where Jem was still sleeping. She stopped in the doorway and put her hand over her mouth for a second, sucking in air, and he squeezed her shoulder.

  ‘He’s all right,’ he murmured.

  ‘I know, but he looks so vulnerable, so fragile lying there like that,’ she murmured.

  ‘He’ll be fine. You heard Megan,’ he said firmly, and watched as she perched on the edge of the armchair by the bed.

  It was upholstered in a hideous pink—wipe-clean vinyl, of course—and he found himself wondering how many parents had sat on it and watched their children.

  He sat on the arm, laid his hand on Kate’s shoulder and watched his son sleeping...

  * * *

  Megan reached out her hand to pick up the phone, and it fell back to her lap, nerveless with shock.

  No!

  It couldn’t be him! She’d heard there was an O’Hara starting in A and E, but it had never occurred to her it was him, that he’d be here in Cornwall, of all places! She’d thought she’d be safe here, never have to see him again, never have to be reminded...

  Her heart raced, and she shrank back into the chair, trying to get away, retreating from the sight of him. She must be mistaken, she told herself. It wasn’t Josh. It couldn’t be.

  But it was him—tall, lean, more attractive even than he’d been eight years ago. He was the most good-looking man she’d ever seen, so sure of himself, so at home in his own skin that he exuded an almost tangible aura of confident masculinity. Alpha man. A man that women couldn’t resist. A man who only had to crook his little finger and stupid, senseless little girls would abandon all their brains and follow him to the end of the earth.

  He glanced over and caught sight of her, his body arresting momentarily, then excusing himself he walked towards her, resting a hand on the top of the counter and looking down at her with those extraordinary indigo-blue eyes, and she couldn’t look away, for all she wanted to.

  ‘Megan?’

  His voice was shocked, his eyes dark with a host of emotions she couldn’t even guess at, but it wasn’t his emotions she was worried about, it was her own, tumbling in free-fall as she stared back at him, mesmerised, horrified, memory after memory crashing through her and robbing her of speech.

  She unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth and tried to remain professional.

  ‘Hello, Josh.’

  Just the two words. It was all she could manage, all she could force out through lips that were stiff with shock.

  His hair fell over his forehead, and he threaded his fingers through the glossy black strands and raked it out of the way, making her suck in her breath. She could still remember the soft, silky feel of it between her fingers. ‘I didn’t know you worked here,’ he said, that soft Irish brogue rippling over her nerve-endings like little tongues of flame. ‘How are you?’

  He looked vaguely stunned, his eyes wary now, concerned. As well they might be after what he’d done...

  ‘I’m—I’m fine. Busy. Excuse me, I need to make a call.’

  ‘That’s OK, you can do it in a moment. I’m looking for a patient who’s had surgery for a fractured pelvis—Jem Althorp? I put on the ex-fix in A and E.’

  ‘He’s fine. There’s a minor problem with his bloods, that’s all. He’s in that room there. Now, I need to deal with this, Josh, and I don’t need to deal with you. Excuse me.’

  And picking the phone up again with shaking hands, she rang the haematology department, conscious all the while of Josh standing there, until with a quiet sigh he turned on his heel and walked away.

  She nearly wept with relief.

  * * *

  The rest of the day dragged for Kate and Nick.

  Josh O’Hara had popped in briefly, but he’d seemed distracted and hadn’t stayed long. Just long enough for them to thank him for the procedure that might well have saved their son’s life.

  Jem’s blood was quickly sorted, as Megan had promised, and he was feeling better, but by the evening Kate was at the end of her tether, and Nick sent her off to bed at nine, when Jem had drifted off to sleep again.

  ‘I’ll sit up with him.’

  ‘But you haven’t had any sleep either,’ she protested. ‘I’ve had more than you.’

  ‘I haven’t been in a car accident,’ he said firmly. ‘Go on. I’ll get you if there’s the slightest thing to worry about, but there won’t be.’

  ‘But how will you know?’ she asked, fretting. ‘You don’t know him—you don’t know how he sleeps, and what’s normal—’

  ‘Kate, he’s just a child, like any other,’ he said gently. ‘If he’s sick, I’ll know. He’ll be fine. Go to bed before you drop to pieces.’

  So she went, reluctantly, and he settled down in the hateful pink chair and watched the monitor blinking steadily, watched the nice, even trace of Jem’s heartbeat through the night, while the staff came in and did hourly obs and brought him endless cups of tea.

  And then at three Kate came and took over, sending Nick off to grab some sleep, and he went into the little room where she’d been sleeping and lay down on the still-warm bed, her scent all around him and the residual heat of her body seeping into him like a soothing balm, sending him into a deep, restful sleep.

  * * *

  Jem woke shortly before six, and Kate could see at once that he was stronger.

  ‘Morning, soldier,’ she murmured, and, leaning forwards, she stroked his hair back off his forehead and smiled at him. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I feel better,’ he said. ‘I don’t hurt so much, and I don’t feel so sick. I’m hungry, though.’

  He’d graduated from nil by mouth to sips of water, and so Kate poured a little into the beaker and held it to his lips. ‘Maybe they’ll let you eat something light later on. I’ve got some wash things for you. You’ll feel better after we clean your teeth and wash your face with nice hot water,’ she said soothingly. ‘Grandma sends her love, and so does Chloe and everyone at the pra
ctice.’

  ‘Where’s Uncle Nick?’ he asked.

  She stroked his hair. ‘He’s here. He spent the night next to you in this chair, and then I got up and swapped over. I expect he’s still sleeping. Why?’

  He shrugged his skinny shoulders. ‘Just wondered. I thought he might have gone home.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. He wouldn’t leave you,’ she told him, and she watched something terrifyingly like hero-worship dawn in his eyes.

  But all he said was, ‘Oh,’ and then his eyes drifted shut again and he lay quietly for a while.

  Behind her the door opened and closed, and she knew it was Nick without turning round.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Awake. Better. He was asking where you were.’

  ‘I’m right here, son,’ he said softly, the irony of it catching her in mid-chest as he perched on the foot of the bed and laid his hand lightly on Jem’s ankle ‘How are you?’

  Jem opened his eyes. ‘OK.’

  ‘Good.’

  Kate saw Nick’s shoulders drop a fraction, and knew he’d been worried. ‘He’s hungry.’

  ‘That’s a good sign,’ he said, and his shoulders dropped a little further.

  ‘My bruises hurt,’ Jem mumbled from the bed. ‘My leg’s really sore, and my side hurts, and my elbow’s sore, but it’s not like it was yesterday.’

  ‘It’ll feel better soon.’

  There was a tap on the door, and a nurse popped her head round. ‘We were going to give Jem a bit of a wash, if you two want to get some breakfast,’ she said, and so they went down to the café that was fast becoming their second home, and had bacon rolls and pastries and lashings of coffee.

  ‘One day I’ll get home and start eating proper food,’ she said, pushing the last crumbs around the plate. ‘I never have anything like this for breakfast. I have yogurt and fruit.’

  ‘You could have had yogurt and fruit,’ Nick said with a frown, but she just smiled.

  ‘I know, but I wanted a bacon roll, and I couldn’t resist the pastries.’