One Step At A Time

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘I know.’

  Sue sighed. ‘Nick, we can’t turn back the clock.’

  ‘I don’t want to, Kate. I want to turn it forward.’

  And so did she. She rested her head down against his chest and closed her eyes. Was it very foolish? If she had any sense at all she’d say no.

  Clearly she was senseless.

  ‘Yes,’ she mumbled.

  He went rigid. ‘What?’

  ‘I said yes. I’ll stay with you.’

  His eyes darkened. ‘In that case we’ll sit down. I want to save my strength.’

  She had almost forgotten about his leg. She helped him back to a chair, fetched him a drink and marvelled that she didn’t melt under the look in his eyes.

  Melt or catch fire.

  Susie was doing the same with Richard. The little party was winding up; everyone had drunk a toast—in soft drinks—to Susie and to John, and now the staff and patients were beginning to drift away.

  She looked across at John and Andrea and saw that they were sitting again. They both looked apprehensive, and Kate wondered who was summoning up the courage to ask the vital question.

  ‘Will she stay?’ Dominic said softly in her ear.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Yes. He’s asked her. She’s nodded.’

  Kate glanced back at them. John looked even more nervous, and Andrea was helping him to his feet and handing him his sticks.

  ‘Can he make it to the room?’

  ‘It’s not far,’ Dominic assured her. ‘They can cut through the corridor, don’t forget.’

  The converted stables ran at right angles to the fitness club premises, and all the rooms opened off a broad corridor along the back as well as out into the courtyard. Kate and Dominic watched them go, then said goodnight to the last hangers-on and made their own slow progress back to the cottage.

  It was ten-thirty, and Kate went up to check on Stephie. She was sound asleep, clothes shed round her room like fallen rose petals, arms flung up above her head.

  Kate tiptoed out and went back down to Dominic. He was in the kitchen, feeding the cat and leaning against the worktop.

  ‘How about a glass of wine in the jacuzzi?’ he suggested.

  Her heart flipped again. She had forgotten that huge sunken bath in the next room. Now, though, she could hear it running. ‘Sounds good,’ she managed, and there was only a slight catch in her voice.

  Dominic heard it, though. He held his arms out. ‘Come here.’

  She went, going straight into his arms, and let her head fall against his chest. His heart was pounding like hers, and it comforted her to know that she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

  His hands soothed her back. ‘We don’t have to make love,’ he told her. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

  She tipped her head back. ‘Of course I want to. I’m worried about your leg, though. Will you be able to manage?’

  His smile was filled with promises. ‘I’ll find a way,’ he vowed. His mouth came down and brushed hers, and heat flowed through her. She parted her lips to him and he deepened the kiss, drawing her further into his arms with a groan.

  ‘Let’s forget the wine and the jacuza,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve waited twelve years for this. I don’t think I want to wait any longer.’

  She eased away from him. ‘I’ll turn off the taps.’

  ‘You do that. Shall we take the wine to bed?’

  ‘Do we need it?’

  He laughed softly. ‘No.’

  She was just going into the bathroom when she heard footsteps running up to the front door and fists pounding on the wood. ‘Coming,’ she called, and went quickly to the door.

  Richard Price was standing in the doorway, dressed only in a pair of trousers and hastily pulled-on shoes.

  ‘Richard, what is it?’ she asked. ‘Come on in.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s John and Andrea. They’re going at it hammer and tongs. I heard a massive crash, and they’re yelling their heads off at each other. It just all sounded a bit violent. I thought maybe someone should know.’

  Dominic was behind her, the heat in his eyes gone, replaced by professional concern. ‘I’ll come. Kate, you stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  She watched him go, swinging along beside Richard on his crutches, and wondered what she had precipitated. Should she have interfered? Perhaps she should have let Martin Gray handle it in his own time, but she just couldn’t bear to see John suffer another rejection, and now this had happened. She wasn’t a psychologist. What had she done?

  She closed the door and went into Dominic’s bathroom to turn off the taps. The jacuzzi was almost fuil, and it seemed a waste to let it get cold. She peeled off her clothes and slid under the water, turning on the jets and letting the pummelling stream of air and water soothe and relax her.

  There were some oils on the side—neroli, lavender and geranium. A workaholic’s relaxation kit, she thought with wry amusement. Perhaps it would take her mind off what she might have done to Andrea and John. She put a few drops of each into the water and lay back, inhaling the relaxing blend and letting all her muscles unwind.

  Her mental muscles relaxed more slowly. She was worried about John and Andrea, and about Dominic. Would John go for him? Neither of them was exactly fit at the moment, but Dominic was probably more vulnerable.

  She sighed and sat up. She ought to go round there. . .

  ‘Mum? What’s going on? I heard someone banging on the door.’

  She looked up to see Stephie in the doorway. ‘Your father’s gone to sort out a problem with a patient.’

  Stephie frowned. ‘It’s the middle of the night. Why are you in his bath?’

  Kate didn’t feel up to a truthful explanation. She went for the edited version.

  ‘Your father ran it. When he had to go out, it seemed a shame to waste it.’

  ‘Oh.’ She perched on the edge of the loo. ‘I’m thirsty. Do you fancy a cup of tea?’

  ‘That would be lovely. Can I have it here?’

  ‘Sure.’ Stephie went out, and Kate lay back and tried to relax. It was impossibly difficult. Anyway, Dominic might come back at any moment, and her lying naked in his bath with Stephie wandering around would just complicate everything.

  She gave up and got out just as Stephie appeared with the tea. ‘I’ll have it in the kitchen,’ she told her daughter, and, wrapping herself in Dominic’s voluminous bathrobe, she went back with her daughter and sat at the kitchen table.

  ‘So, what was the problem?’ Stephie asked.

  ‘I can’t say, darling.’

  ‘Confidential?’

  She nodded. She couldn’t discuss John and Andrea with her daughter. Even without the confidentiality aspect it was a tricky area.

  Stephie let it go, though, without question. She had other things on her mind.

  ‘Next Saturday, can I go out for the day with Kirsty? They’re going out on a friend’s boat, and then they’re having a barbecue afterwards. They’ve asked me to stay the night.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ she agreed, and felt guilty for thinking that it would give her time alone with Dominic. After all, that was what they were trying—and failing—to achieve.

  Her daughter unravelled her long legs and stood up, dropped a kiss on Kate’s head and went back upstairs.

  Moments later Dominic came back in.

  ‘How are things?’ she asked, anxiously going to greet him.

  He sighed. ‘Stormy but settling. They haven’t done any real damage—either to themselves or the place. The crash was a vase—Andrea walked out of the room and John couldn’t follow, so he hurled the vase across the room in frustration.’

  ‘Oh, dear. What are they doing now?’

  ‘Sitting on the sofa talking. Andrea’s crying, and John’s comforting her.’

  ‘Is that progress?’

  ‘I hope so. I’ve said I’ll spend some time with both of them tomorrow, talking it through. Perhaps you’d give me a h
and?’

  ‘Me? I thought I’d screwed up.’

  He grinned. ‘Me too, at first, but I think it was just a case of opening the floodgates. I think they’ll be all right.’ He winced. ‘I hope I will. My leg aches like hell.’ He looked at her, head cocked to one side. ‘Why are you wearing my dressing gown?’

  She had forgotten. ‘I had the Jacuzzi—the water’s probably still warm if you want it. I ought to tell you, though, Stephie woke up—she’s just gone upstairs again.’

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘Oh, hell. I’m sorry, Kate. The best laid plans and all that. I think I’ll just go to bed with a couple of aspirin.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d better join you—not with Stephie awake. I can’t stand the questions and we haven’t got any satisfactory answers.’

  ‘No.’ His hand came up and cupped her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, my love. Maybe tomorrow.’

  She sighed. Maybe—and maybe not. Body and soul, he’d said. Well, he was absolutely right. She went to bed alone, still snuggled up in his dressing gown, and ached for him.

  The Whitelaws were exhausted by the morning, but at least they had started talking. They still had a long way to go, though—Andrea had spent the night on the settee, and neither of them had undressed.

  Dominic dealt with them alone, because Kate felt that she had caused enough havoc and wasn’t ready to intervene any more. ‘Let Martin do it,’ she begged, and so Dominic agreed.

  He talked to the couple, both together and separately, and-persuaded Andrea to see Martin Gray the next day.

  Kate, meanwhile, was busy with Laurence Carter, who had become breathless and was suffering from chest pain.

  ‘I think he’s going to have to go into hospital,’ Kate said to Dominic after she had seen Mr Carter. ‘He’s not at all well.’

  ‘Heart?’

  She nodded. ‘I think so. I ran an ECG—would you look at the trace?’

  He did, and agreed that it was indicative of a mild heart attack. He broke the news to the man, who was unsurprised. ‘Thought I felt a bit off,’ Mr Carter said with a tired smile. ‘Oh, well, so be it. Something’s got to have me.’

  He was transfered by ambulance to the hospital where Dominic had been, and they heard later that day that he had had another, much more serious attack and had sadly died.

  ‘Poor old boy,’ Dominic said quietly. ‘He was such a gentleman.’

  Kate felt sad, but also that perhaps in a way it was for the best. He would have found life with only one leg very difficult. With his problems it would have been hard enough with two. Maybe he was better off this way.

  His death left a quiet sadness over the clinic, though. All the staff and patients were a little subdued, and Kate thought that it was very telling of the caring family atmosphere that the death of one sick, elderly patient should actually matter. So often it would have gone almost unremarked.

  Two other patients were drawn closer together by the event, though. Peggy Donaldson had had a hip replacement and Anthony Walker had had a new knee joint, and until now they had simply smiled politely at each other and passed in the corridor.

  Now, though, they bothered to stop and talk, and Kate found it touching that the pair, both widowed for some years, should suddenly find themselves caught up in a friendship that seemed to have blossomed overnight. They were together for lunch, and later Kate noticed them together again in the TV lounge, watching the news. They went for a little stroll in the garden after supper, and she wondered if it was possible that a romance was developing between them.

  She pointed it out to Dominic, and he smiled. ‘I’d noticed it too. I think you could be right. It’s all very delicate, tea-dance stuff, but it’s rather touching. I hope they do get together. They could have a lot in common, actually, and they’re both alone.’

  She gave a wry grin. ‘We’re very good at sorting out other people’s problems, aren’t we? It’s a shame we can’t seem to get to grips with our own.’

  He sighed. ‘It’s finding not just the time, but the privacy. If we’re here, someone will come and find us.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to go somewhere else. Stephie’s away all Saturday and Saturday night. Can you ask Jeremy to cover?’

  ‘Probably. What then?’

  ‘Then we go somewhere right away from here.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘My house.’

  His eyes widened fractionally. ‘You have neighbours. They’ll wonder what’s going on.’

  He was right. ‘A hotel?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. We’ll stay here, but we’ll make it clear to everyone that want privacy. You can tell them I’m tired and ill and need quiet.’

  ‘And pigs fly. They aren’t stupid.’

  ‘Then we’ll tell them the truth.’

  Kate closed her eyes. ‘No. We’ll tell them you need a day off, and so do I. We’ll tell them we’ll be out for the day, and we’ll just stay in.’

  In the end they didn’t have to tell anybody anything. Jeremy looked at them towards the end of the week and told them bluntly that they both looked like hell.

  ‘What you two need is some time off—maybe some time alone together,’ he pronounced. ‘A blind man on a galloping horse can see you’re right for each other. All you need is time to realise it. Well, I’m going to give you that time.’

  ‘How generous,’ Dominic drawled. ‘Who promoted you to the divinity?’

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t need to be God. I happen to love my wife and I recognise the symptoms. You’re both smitten.’

  Kate felt a warm tide of colour flood her cheeks and looked down. She couldn’t look at Dominic at all, but she sensed his stillness.

  ‘It’s rather more complicated than that,’ he said softly.

  ‘It always is,’ Jeremy replied. ‘That doesn’t mean you don’t have to deal with it. I’ll come in over the weekend and cover, and you two get rid of your daughter and just have a quiet couple of days together. There’s nothing I can’t cope with that can’t wait till Monday. If it’s that drastic, then they need a hospital. Savvy? And by the way, Dominic, I don’t think you’ve been having the physiotherapy you should have been.’

  ‘He hasn’t,’ Kate agreed. ‘He’s been too busy.’

  Dominic gave a short sigh and opened his mouth, but Jeremy cut him off. ‘Your trouble is that you think nobody else can do the job. OK, you’re good at it—but so are the rest of us. You need to let go, to hand over more. I know the patients need you, but so do your family. You need time to yourself. For God’s sake, man, take it while your relationship still stands a chance.’

  Dominic’s breath eased out. ‘You’re right,’ he said softly. ‘Thank you, Jeremy. I’ll take you up on your offer. ‘We’ll have the weekend off.’

  Kate felt a whole slather of butterflies run riot in her stomach. Finally, she thought.

  But would she get the answer she wanted?

  CHAPTER TEN

  ON FRIDAY Kate wondered if she would actually get her weekend with Dominic. Karen Lloyd, the lady with whiplash injuries to her neck, was progressing slowly but needed frequent acupuncture treatments and very gentle manipulation and physiotherapy.

  Dominic spent a long time sorting out her treatment programme, and consequently all the rest of the work he had intended to do that day was pushed back.

  Kate had moved out of his office two weeks before, and now worked from Sally Roberts’ office while the other doctor was still away. She had caught chicken pox from her children and was now ill herself, and would be away for some time still.

  It was a good job, Kate thought, that she had been available at a moment’s notice. If she had had a permanent job, instead of doing locum work, Dominic probably wouldn’t have asked her to help him—and she wouldn’t be here with him now.

  With him? she thought. I’ve been here three weeks and hardly seen the man. So much for his sick leave.

  Not that there was time for him to lie about, she had to admit, and he seeme
d to be coping fairly well. She wasn’t sure how many painkillers he was chugging down in order to do it, but she suspected that she wouldn’t approve. There was no point in asking. He was a law unto himself. She might as well save her breath.

  She saw Peggy Donaldson, the widow with the hip replacement, who had struck up such a friendship with Anthony Walker. Her pain was much better, her new hip seemed to be working well and Kate was very pleased to see her progress.

  ‘I think we could take you off the painkillers now and just let you take one if you find it aches that day. I don’t honestly think you need them routinely any more, do you?’

  Mrs Donaldson shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. I feel marvellous.’

  ‘How’s the physiotherapy going?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Oh, very well. She seems quite satisfied with me. She wants me to start swimming as well as the hydrotherapy, but it’s years since I swam. I don’t know if I still can.’

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ Kate said. ‘It’s like riding a bike. If you feel a bit apprehensive ask someone else to come with you. Does Mr Walker swim?’

  Kate was fascinated to see the delicate flush on Mrs Donaldson’s cheeks. ‘I’m not sure. He’s had hydrotherapy—perhaps I’ll ask him.’

  ‘Or there’s John Whitelaw—he’s a very good swimmer. Excellent, in fact. He’d help you, I’m sure.’

  ‘But he hasn’t got any legs!’ Peggy Donaldson exclaimed.

  Kate laughed. ‘Don’t let that fool you! He raced me a couple of weeks ago and beat me—and I was using everything I had! Believe me, I didn’t let him win, and I’m a good swimmer.’

  ‘Oh! Well, perhaps I’ll ask him if I could come in when he’s there—if you don’t think he’ll mind? I’d like to try first, before I ask Anthony. I don’t want to make too big a fool of myself,’ she said with a little laugh.

  Kate smiled at her. How like a woman falling for a man, she thought. Age didn’t seem to have anything to do with it.

  She saw the gentleman in question later that day. ‘Have you been asked to swim yet?’ she asked him, looking at his knee.

  The physio did mention it.’

  Kate studied the scarring and tested the function and stability of the knee joint. It seemed good, well-healed and very sound. ‘Why don’t you have a go?’