by Katie Ginger
While Mandy regaled Sarah with a detailed account of the subsequent argument between husband and wife, a figure approached the automatic door and held up his hand in greeting. It was Dr Finn MacDonald and Sarah could feel the smile lighting up her face. She got up to go and open it, smoothing down her dress. Her favourite striped summer dress that stopped at just the right place, making her legs look long and lean. She reached down behind the fake plastic pot plant to switch the automatic door to open and let him in. He was in his normal black suit with a grey shirt, undone at the collar and no tie. His slightly curly strawberry blond hair fell onto his face and Sarah tried to play it cool. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Finn squeezed his tall, rangy frame through the doors. ‘Thanks. Morning, Sarah.’ He smiled and his eyes sparkled.
‘Morning, Dr MacDonald.’
‘Morning, Mandy.’
She broke off mid-sentence. ‘Morning, Doc.’
‘Nice weekend?’ he called over his shoulder as he strode towards the office.
Sarah’s mouth opened, ready to tell him all about Nathaniel Hardy but remembering it was a secret, closed it again. ‘Not bad, thanks.’ She tidied some magazines on the small coffee table next to a bank of chairs. ‘I didn’t really do much. You?’ He turned to answer her, walking backwards.
‘Oh, I met some friends but otherwise no, pretty quiet actually.’ The corners of his mouth lifted causing creases to form in his cheeks, then he spun back and went into his office. Sarah took her seat at the reception desk and tried to stop fantasising about kissing him, by tidying up her in-tray. About ten minutes later Finn came back out carrying a file and Sarah concentrated on her screen. The next thing she felt was him leaning down, his arm resting on the back of her chair as he placed the file beside her keyboard. His naturally husky voice sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Could you chase up Mr Robinson’s MRI results for me please? I need to call him today and they’re taking ages at the hospital.’
A husky voice asking her to chase up a crotchety old man’s MRI results shouldn’t make her leg twitch and get her all hot and bothered, but something about Finn MacDonald’s voice did that to her. She swallowed. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll do it first thing.’
‘Thanks. I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a cup of tea in return.’ He picked up her cup emblazoned with the phrase, ‘There’s a fairly good chance this is gin’, and disappeared. It took every fibre of her being not to turn around and watch him go. Mandy teased her enough already.
In fact, Mandy was already holding her cup in the air, waving it madly and saying, ‘Oi, what about me?’ to which Finn came back and grabbed it.
‘How could I forget you, Mandy, hey?’
When he’d gone to the kitchen, Mandy looked over and gave Sarah a wink. ‘He likes you.’
‘Only as his receptionist,’ Sarah replied with an ache in her chest. Finn was the perfect man as far as she was concerned. She’d known him for a year so if anything happened it wouldn’t be a whirlwind romance. She wasn’t making that mistake again. People always said the best relationships begin at work but there wasn’t much chance of anything happening as far as she could see. ‘I don’t think he sees me as anything more. He’s been here for a year and hasn’t made a move yet.’
‘Well, he never flirts with me like that.’
‘He wasn’t flirting!’Was he? ‘He was making tea and asking for MRI results.’
Mandy shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s not sure how you feel about him?’
‘How can he not be?’ As much as Sarah hated to admit it, she knew she sometimes went bright pink when Finn spoke to her, and he must know, from the way she looked at him. But it wasn’t just his body she was attracted to. He was kind, caring, charismatic, and good with kids. You only had to see him with the young ones who were scared that something was really wrong with them. He always had them laughing and joking before they even entered his consulting room.
Oh, this was ridiculous. She could pretty much feel herself ovulating at the thought of having kids with Finn. They’d be bloody gorgeous.
Mandy gave her a knowing smile. ‘You wait,’ she said sagely. ‘Just you wait.’
Finn delivered them both cups of tea, pausing by Sarah’s desk. ‘It’s not gin, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s okay,’ Sarah replied. ‘I’ve got a hip flask in my top drawer.’
Much to her delight, Finn laughed at her joke. Making him laugh was one of the highlights of Sarah’s day. The way he lifted his head and tipped it backwards did something to Sarah’s heart. And the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down made her want to reach up and kiss him. She felt her cheeks grow hot.
‘I know where to come when I need a drop then,’ Finn replied. For a moment their eyes stayed on each other, as the gentlest of smiles played on his lips. If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships, then Finn MacDonald’s launched a thousand twitches, all filling Sarah’s body with such an intense heat she was actually relieved when he went back to his room. Goodness, she was worse than the menopausal posse.
***
Every day the surgery closed for an hour during lunch and once the last patient had gone, all the staff had lunch together in the staffroom. They were lucky that it was quite modern and airy with comfortable seats. Sarah had worked in some places where the staffroom was more like a dungeon designed to torture the good humour out of you. Mandy was always ready to start a conversation with whoever was near her and today she’d turned her attention to Finn.
Meanwhile, Sarah flicked through the weekly gossip mag that someone had left on the table. The front page was full of the Nathaniel Hardy scandal. Sarah still couldn’t quite believe he was in town, staying with Gregory and Cecil. The picture in the magazine had been taken as Nathaniel had left the theatre after his disastrous last performance. The poor man looked completely shell-shocked and Sarah wondered what she would say if she ever met him. There was no excuse for cheating in her book. The memory of the night she’d decided to surprise her ex, Vince, at his house, only to find him in bed with someone else, flitted through her mind before she could stop it. Could this be why she was struggling with playing Miranda in The Tempest, perhaps? Miranda fell in love for the first time in the play, and when Sarah had fallen for Vince she’d fallen hard, thinking it was the real deal. Remembering his betrayal still stung her heart.
To distract herself from the memory, Sarah tuned back in to Mandy’s conversation with Finn.
‘So, Dr Mac, who were these friends you met up with, hey? Was it a naughty weekend away?’ Sarah felt a slight flush at the innuendo and hoped it hadn’t been.
‘Just some guys I knew at medical school,’ Finn answered and smiled at the memory.
Maybe it had been a dirty weekend away. The way he was smiling, it seemed he was remembering something nice, but then he’d said, ‘guys’. Not girls, or women, or ladies.
‘They work in Nottingham so I went up to see them on Saturday, came back yesterday. Good thing, really. I needed yesterday to recover.’ Finn turned to Sarah, clearly eager to head off Mandy’s line of questioning. ‘How are rehearsals going, Sarah?’
‘Urgh, rubbish,’ Sarah replied, resting her sandwich in her lap. ‘I’m really struggling with The Tempest. I just can’t seem to get the hang of Miranda’s speech and I find it all a bit confusing.’ She felt a bit silly saying it, but at least if they knew now how much she hated it, they might excuse a bad performance later, which was undoubtedly what she’d give unless she could crack it. Finn chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of crisps.
‘The Tempest is the one on an island isn’t it, with Caliban and Prospero?’
She nodded. ‘Do you remember it?’
‘Vaguely.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not great on Shakespeare and I know nothing about acting. I wish I could help.’
Sarah smiled. ‘Don’t worry, there’s a while to go yet. I’m sure I’ll get it eventually.’ Though it might mean facing up to feelings about Vince that she’d hoped had faded.
‘Of course you
will,’ Mandy reassured her. ‘I’m sure you’ll be brilliant. Better than that Mrs Andrews, she’s a right old handful, isn’t she?’
‘She definitely has her moments,’ said Sarah, remembering the first time she’d met the MP’s terrifying wife. Mrs Andrews had wanted to play Beatrice in the Greenley Players’ first attempt at Shakespeare last year. They’d performed Much Ado About Nothing and it had been so bad it had nearly spelt the end of the Greenley Players and the theatre. It was only thanks to Lottie that things had kept going. A sudden hard knock on the door out in the reception area caught their attention. ‘Who can that be?’ said Sarah, checking her watch. ‘The guy who collects all the gross stuff doesn’t normally come till three and the town know we close for lunch. I hope it isn’t an emergency.’
The knocking continued.
‘If it’s a patient demanding to be seen,’ said Mandy, adjusting her posture as if she was readying for a fight, ‘I’ll be giving them what-for. We’ve got another fifteen minutes till we re-open. Everyone knows we close from one till two. Not a moment before or less.’ Three more decisive knocks echoed through the empty surgery. ‘Are they actually trying to break the bloody door down?’ Mandy asked.
They all made their way out of the staffroom, down the corridor and into the reception area. Everyone knew that the surgery closed for lunch; no one would bang on the door like this unless it was an emergency. Images flashed through Sarah’s mind of someone holding a child in desperate need of a doctor, or of someone bent double having run to get help for a road accident, but there’d been no sirens, no sign of trouble. When Sarah saw the figure outside the glass door, fist raised, ready to knock again, her heart stopped beating. Every muscle paused. No air filled her lungs, and she didn’t dare breathe. In that instant she knew that everything would be different from now on. That the life she had begun to love was about to change, and not for the better.
Finn carried on towards the door, his shoulders squared, carrying an air of authority. Mandy stopped when she realised Sarah was lagging behind. ‘What’s wrong, love? Christ, you’ve gone white as a sheet. What’s the matter?’
The man at the door had stopped banging and stood back with his hands in his trouser pockets. Clearly there was no medical emergency. The only emergency was the one suddenly happening in Sarah’s own life. The man looked like any normal customer they might see. Blond hair cut short, greying at the temples, wrinkled features.
‘Do you know him?’ asked Mandy, placing her hand on Sarah’s forearm. Sarah’s hands were covering her mouth. Finn turned around and waited for Sarah’s reply. His eyes were full of concern and a small line had formed where his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. ‘Sarah?’ Mandy asked again, giving her a gentle shake. Stuck in a moment of suspended animation, Sarah looked first at Mandy and then at Finn, knowing that if there had ever been any hope of something happening between them, that hope was about to be snuffed out like a lit match caught in a breeze. Everyone would know her secret soon, and she had no idea how to deal with it.
Under their concerned gaze, Sarah forced the words out of her dry mouth. ‘It’s my dad.’
***
‘Do you want me to open the door?’ asked Finn. ‘Or should I tell him to go away?’
A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine, carrying all the way to the tips of her fingers as she balled her hands into fists. Did she want to go out there and talk to him, or would it be better to speak in here? Should she speak to him at all? If he came inside everyone would know what he’d done. But then, if he was back, they were bound to find out sooner or later anyway. Her mind whirled with a million and one things as all the while Finn watched her.
‘You can speak to him in my room if you want,’ he said gently, and Sarah found herself nodding. Finn moved forwards and opened the door. Ben, Sarah’s dad, stepped forwards in his tatty brown suede shoes. He’d always worn shoes like that. Had he been allowed to wear them in prison? she wondered. Every sound was muffled but she heard Ben politely thank Finn for letting him in and say something about wanting to speak to her. Finn walked back towards the staffroom. As he passed Sarah he reached out and took her arm. ‘I’ll be in the staffroom if you need anything.’
Mandy followed him out, casting a concerned glance at Sarah. Though she tried to respond with a smile to show she would be okay, Sarah couldn’t seem to move her face. Her features were frozen in a mask of startled panic.
‘Hello, sugarplum,’ Ben said in a hoarse voice she barely recognised. But by calling her sugarplum she was suddenly six years old again, her dad reading her bedtime stories, or a teenager, and he was picking up the pieces after a boy had broken her heart. Sarah’s frozen body began to thaw but before it could her brain replayed one of the last times they had spoken. It had been on the phone because he was in prison. She was alone, dealing with her mother’s rapid decline from cancer. A sudden surge of anger hardened her jaw and made her teeth clench. How could he have left them to deal with everything alone? Left her? And even worse, how could he come back now?
Straightening up, she said, ‘We can speak in Dr MacDonald’s room.’
At her coldness Ben’s face fell, but she had no sympathy for him. He couldn’t have expected a warm welcome, and if he did, he was a fool. With a brisk turn on her heel Sarah marched into Finn’s room, leaving Ben to close the door behind him. He had barely taken his hand off the handle when she asked, ‘What are you doing here?’
Ben pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He’d always done that when he was nervous or thinking. ‘I was released from prison last week. I … I wanted to see you.’
‘Why?’ Her voice was harsh, with a hardness she hadn’t known herself capable of. The question shocked him and his head shot up, eyes full of hurt.
‘Because you’re my daughter.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’ Sarah crossed her arms firmly over her chest, unwavering.
‘Sugarplum, please—’
‘Don’t call me sugarplum. I’m not a child. And I have nothing to say to you. You’re not my father anymore.’
The wrinkles of Ben’s forehead collided as he knitted his brows together. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Yes, I do. You selfishly stole money from your job and got yourself slung into prison leaving me to deal with Mum dying all on my own.’ There was so much more to mention but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She’d locked those things away, too much to deal with at the time and too scared to try now.
‘I know.’ He dropped his eyes and kept them on the ground. ‘I’m sorry. I—’
‘Sorry isn’t enough, Dad. Sorry can never erase my memories of watching Mum wither away. Of having to sort out the funeral all on my own, of having to pretend you’d left us to work abroad because it was easier than telling everyone you’d been sent to prison. Sorting out all of Mum’s clothes when she’d gone—’ Sarah’s voice cracked and tears pooled in her eyes. She squeezed them shut, willing the tears away. She’d vowed long ago not to cry over her dad anymore. Taking a quick breath in, she said, ‘How dare you come back.’
Ben hung his head in what Sarah hoped was shame and shoved his glasses back up. ‘I had nowhere else to go.’
‘Then find somewhere, because I never want to see you again.’ The room felt suddenly oppressive, like the world was shrinking, threatening to crush her. She needed to get out. To get away from him. Hurrying to the door, she flung it open and marched off.
Finn must have heard her raised voice, as he was waiting for her at the staffroom door. ‘He’s leaving,’ Sarah said without looking back. ‘Can you make sure he goes – please?’ He opened his mouth to speak but she headed him off, worried what he would think of her now. ‘I’ll be okay, I just need him to go.’
Whilst Finn escorted Ben out of the building, Mandy slid back into the staffroom.
‘Jesus Christ on a bike, that was intense,’ said Mandy. ‘What was all that about?’ Sarah turned but couldn’t speak. If she was going to tell anyo
ne it would be Lottie and she hated the fact she was going to have to wait till tonight to do it. ‘Sarah?’
‘I’m sorry, Mandy. I can’t.’ A fierce heat burned her cheeks. ‘I just can’t right now.’
‘All right, love. But do you really have a hip flask in your top drawer? Because I could do with a drop now and I don’t even drink gin.’
‘No,’ Sarah replied, trying to smile and pretend everything was okay. She smoothed down her brown hair, her heart beating rapidly. ‘But I bloody wish I did.’
Chapter 6
Sarah stood in front of the theatre’s revolving doors wondering whether to go in or not. The theatre had become a safe, happy place for her and, as cheesy as it sounded, a home from home – a place full of friends. Well mostly, if you excluded Mrs Andrews. But even she wasn’t that bad underneath it all. Sarah took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go in after all that had happened today. She’d been supremely angry all afternoon, and as that had begun to fade, she felt nothing but tired and exhausted.
Somehow, she had managed to hold it together that afternoon at the surgery, smiling at the patients and answering the phone. She’d even managed to laugh with Mandy about the soap opera they both watched. Mandy had questions, but they were ones Sarah wasn’t prepared to answer yet. Finn had grabbed her once during a quick tea-making round to see if she was okay. As they stood together by the boiling kettle, a part of her had wanted to tell him everything. She just knew that he’d understand how angry she was and not judge her for it. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him anything at all. The risk of lowering his opinion of her made her shy away from opening up. But she was sure that when she left that day, saying goodbye to him across the empty surgery, there’d been something between them. He’d kept his eyes on her a moment too long and there’d been a spark in the air, something new that hadn’t been there before.