The Consultant's Recovery

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The Consultant's Recovery Page 12

by Gill Sanderson


  She heard voices outside and knew Joe and Jonathan had returned. She stayed in her room, intending not to come out until she had heard Marianne make her entrance. Other people arrived and then it was time. She slid into her dress, adjusted it, put on her make-up. And walked out.

  Jonathan was there, looking impeccable in a classic dinner jacket. The white and black outfit suited him very well. All the others were there. She had met them all except Jenny, Joe's escort. She was among friends – or at least acquaintances.

  ‘Tania, that dress is magnificent. You look absolutely gorgeous.’

  Of all people, it was Eleanor who spoke first, and Tania saw the compliment was genuine.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. Well, the dress was gorgeous.

  Someone handed her a drink and there were hors d'oeuvres for them all to nibble at. After a while she found herself next to Jonathan. ‘I can't see, but no fewer than three other people have assured me that you look absolutely stunning,’ he whispered. ‘I know you're going to be the belle of the ball, and I know every man in the ballroom will envy me.’

  ‘It's only the dress that you bought for me,’ she whispered back.

  ‘No. The dress may be good, but it's only the setting for a jewel. Joe has promised me that we can have a photograph taken.’

  They sat, chatted, sipped their drinks for a while. Then it was time to go and Joe said that their car was waiting downstairs. They ignored the lift, trooping down the stairs together and out to the drive.

  ‘Oh, my Lord,’ said Tania.

  ‘What's wrong?’ asked Jonathan impatiently. But she was looking at the others, realising they were as dumbstruck as she was.

  ‘It's the car Joe has picked,’ she said. ‘I believe it's a stretch limo.’

  ‘If I ever get married,’ Jenny said, ‘I don't want to arrive or depart in one of those.’

  It was a shiny, white, polished vehicle, incredibly long and with darkened windows. The driver stepped out and opened a selection of doors. ‘I find a touch of bad taste every now and again to be refreshing,’ said Joe. ‘Let's get inside and pretend to be gangsters.’ So they did. It was comfortable inside; air-conditioned and with ample room for all their legs.

  ‘Champagne?’ asked Joe, opening a small fridge and taking out a gold-topped bottle.

  The ball was being held at the Yelland Country Club, a large house some distance out of town. They were met at the door and escorted to their table, one of many round the polished floor. She was pleased to notice that this room was also air-conditioned, otherwise the heat would have been intolerable.

  It was a night Tania knew she would remember. She sat next to Jonathan, whispering a commentary to him, telling him who was approaching, how everyone was dressed, how their group was managing.

  Then they danced. The first time around the floor wasn't successful – Jonathan reverted to wanting to lead. But things improved when he relaxed and she led, and they whirled round the floor like a couple of experts.

  Tania was asked to dance by the other men on their table. It was rather funny as she had to explain that the reason things weren't going too well was because she was trying to lead.

  ‘You took Jonathan to practise?’ Charles said. ‘That shows forethought, a great deal of imagination. If ever you think of a career in hospital – any kind of career – let me know.’ She took that as a compliment.

  There was no set meal – instead, waiters placed a succession of light dishes on the table in front of them and people were invited to help themselves to what they wanted. Tania told Jonathan what was available; he was pleased that he didn't have to make his way through a heavy formal meal.

  She hadn't realised just how popular Jonathan was. Many people came to the table to wish him well, shake his hand and buy him a drink. Soon the table was nearly covered with glasses. ‘I'll get rid of a few of these,’ Joe said. ‘Wouldn't want people getting the wrong impression, would we?’

  It was a good table to be at. There was a variety of experience there, a variety of stories to be told. Jerry had just come back from working in Africa. He had them alternatively amused and horrified by what he had seen. Marianne appeared to have met every one of note in the fashion world and didn't hesitate to reveal the latest scandals. Jenny had been a chef before she'd trained to be a nurse. She had them all determined never to eat in a restaurant again! Yes, a good table to be at.

  ‘Why are you so quiet?’ Tania asked Jonathan when they were dancing once more. ‘You're as clever as all these people, I've heard you be just as funny.’ His answer rather shocked her, reminded her that she still had much to learn.

  ‘I can talk perfectly well to one person or two, but many more than that is difficult. You can't tell who's going to speak next. You need to see people's faces to know how well they're going along with you.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I'm afraid I didn't quite realise that.’

  Jonathan squeezed her hand. ‘It doesn't matter. Because of you, Tania, I'm having the time of my life. I'm actually enjoying this, not enduring it. And now, as we dance, I can feel what those around me are thinking. The women are all jealous of you and the men are all envious of me.’

  ‘Flatterer,’ she said. But she had to admit to herself that she had noticed more than a few masculine glances that suggested that her outfit made the most of her.

  There was one serious note. Choosing a moment when their table was nearly empty, Charles said he wanted a quiet word with Jonathan. ‘Tania, please, stay and listen if you like,’ Charles said to her. ‘In a sense it concerns you. Jonathan, we're quite close. I'm wondering if I ought to perform this operation. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a surgeon who knows you less well? I can recommend half a dozen as competent as myself, if not more so.’

  ‘I want you, Charles,’ Jonathan said instantly. ‘I've watched you work. Once you start you'll forget who I am completely. I'll just be a brain to you then.’

  ‘All right. I'll do it if you wish. But if you change your mind, that's fine by me.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Tania said, ‘I'm interested in this. Could I ask a question? Charles, when you operate do you really forget about the person you're working on?’

  Charles mused for a minute. ‘To a certain extent, yes,’ he said. ‘You've done all your homework, you know the patient, and you’ve seen the X-rays, the scans, the results of any previous treatment. You've a good idea of the chances of success of an operation, also of its dangers. You know the consequences of not performing an operation – usually you've discussed this with the patient. You're bound to get some sort of … fellow feeling for the person. If you can't feel sympathy you're not good as a doctor. But once you've made the first cut with the scalpel all thought of consequences must disappear. You focus solely on the work.’

  ‘I see,’ said Tania. ‘It sounds very lonely work.’

  ‘I've never thought of it that way,’ said Charles after a moment. ‘But I suppose it is.’

  The ball didn't go on too late. For a start, many of those there would be needed in hospital the next day. In all too short a time the evening was coming to an end. But not for everyone. Tania was fascinated to hear where the various couples were disappearing to.

  Eleanor was taking Jerry to a nightclub in town. Marianne was going for a late supper and then staying the night with Charles, who had a large house some distance away. Jenny was taking Joe home to feed him.

  ‘It's just like when we were teenagers at the end of a dance,’ she muttered to Jonathan. ‘Everybody cops off.’

  ‘What a vulgar expression! And we're just a boring old couple who need to go to bed with our cocoa,’ said Jonathan. ‘Come on, Tania, it'll soon be hot water bottle time.’

  ‘Not tonight it won't,’ Tania said.

  In fact, they had received several invitations, to parties, suppers and so on. Jonathan had asked her each time but they'd decided that the evening at the ball was enough. She knew it would have been tiring for him.

  So they went
home alone. The ever efficient Joe had arranged a car for them.

  It had been a lovely hot day and evening, but now the weather showed signs of breaking. When they got outside the air felt thick and sticky and there was no wind. Neither were there any stars, and the sky was very black. ‘I think we'll have a storm soon,’ said Jonathan.

  ‘It can't be soon enough,’ she said.

  Once back in the flat they both changed into something light and loose. Although they had enjoyed their evening, were tired even, they both felt a little dissatisfied. ‘It's the still air,’ Jonathan said. ‘We'll feel differently when it starts to rain.’ And after a while he asked, ‘Would you like to go for a walk in the garden?’

  ‘I'd love it,’ she said.

  Outside the air was as sticky as ever. They walked along the gravel paths in the garden – by now Jonathan knew the garden so well he could find his way anywhere. They were in complete darkness, only two small lights shining from the flats. It was interesting. Now Jonathan was guiding her, not the other way round.

  They came to a secluded bench in the furthest reach of the garden. There was a high wall behind them, bushes to the side and a tiny lawn in front of them.

  They sat and he put his arm round her. It might be hot, but she liked it. The first heavy drop of rain landed on her forehead. ‘It won't be long now,’ he said, and she shuddered.

  It wouldn't be long now.

  It seemed a long time before the next drop. But then it landed with a noisy smack on the bench next to her.

  They both felt the faintest of breezes, but this time a breeze bringing freshness. Drop, drop, drop. The rain was rattling on the leaves of the bush next to her, still single heavy drops, smacking into her bare flesh.

  ‘Do you want to go in?’ he asked. ‘We're going to get wet.’

  ‘I want to get wet. Will you stay out here with me, Jonathan?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he said.

  Then the storm passed. She could hear the murmur of thunder, see the flicker of lightning over the Welsh hills. And Tania and Jonathan sat on in the rain.

  ‘This is wonderful,’ he said, ‘but I want to feel the rain on all my skin.’

  Raising his arms, he pulled off his shirt. All she could see was a dark figure. ‘That's wonderful,’ he said. ‘Why don't you do the same?’

  She sat there a moment longer, in silence. Then he reached forward. His hands touched her waist, then felt for her thin shirt, easing it upwards and over her head.

  He dropped it on the bench beside him. Then, still cautiously, he leaned forward to unfasten her bra.

  She knew she could stop him. One word, one hint and he would stop. But she didn't want to stop him.

  Her heart was hammering, with excitement and apprehension, but she wasn't going to stop him. It was wonderful to be naked next to him. The rain prickled at her skin, ran between her breasts, and she loved it.

  His arm was still round her and he pulled her gently closer. She knew she still had a choice. She could pick up her clothes and say they should go in – or she could stay. And then what would happen? For too much of her life she had been running, hiding. Now she wanted a change. For once she would do something foolish.

  For once she would act without thinking of the consequences.

  Perhaps Jonathan had guessed what she had been thinking, had given her time..

  But now he put her arms round his neck and pulled her to him. His wet lips came down onto hers. His body pressed against her, she felt her breasts tight against him, she felt the excitement start there, drive throughout her body. They were wet, the cool rain still hissing down on them. But both were warmed by a fire that came from inside.

  This was no ordinary kiss, tender or gentle. Jonathan's mouth was demanding, passionate. His tongue probed deep within her. She clutched the back of his head, holding his wet hair, and pulled him even closer. She could tell how much he wanted her!

  They had been sitting side by side on the bench. He tugged at her so they slid downwards to lie side by side on the grass. Under her it was wet and cool and she didn't mind a bit. The rain was a gentle caress on her body that couldn't dampen the heat of their passion.

  For a while they lay there side by side, their bodies pressed together as if nothing could ever part them. But then he eased her onto her back, and his head roamed over her body, taking each breast into his mouth, causing her back to arch in ecstasy. This was so good. But it wasn't enough! Now his hands were at the elasticated waistband of her trousers. For a moment he hesitated, but she lifted her hips, and with one swift movement she was naked.

  A moment’s touch of fear. What was she doing? But then she decided she had started on a course that must be finished. This was what she wanted.

  He leaned back, there was the rustling of clothing and she sensed rather than saw that he was naked, too.

  Then his body was on hers again. ‘Tania,’ he muttered. ‘Darling Tania, do you want to …? I don't know if …’

  She reached for him. ‘I'm yours, Jonathan,’ she murmured. ‘Put your arms round my neck. Whatever you do, don't move them. I need you to hold me just like that.’

  Then he was on top of her. She could feel his entire body against hers and knew the strength of his desire for her, wanted so much to give herself to him. It seemed so proper in this storm that their desires should be as elemental as the forces of Nature that thrashed around them. She wriggled under him, every nerve ending in her body sensitised. She thought she could feel each blade of grass, each drop of rain that touched her body.

  And she knew every inch of his body, too, as it touched hers.

  Then he knelt up, left her. Alarmed, she reached out towards him. ‘Jonathan, what is it? Where are you?’

  His voice was harsh. ‘We should stop here. Apart from anything else, I haven't got anything.’

  He could even joke. ‘It's hard to find your way around the men's room when you're blind.’

  ‘It doesn't matter.’ She knew what Jonathan meant at once and it made her love him the more because even at that moment he could think of her and the possible consequences.

  ‘It doesn't matter, Jonathan. I'm always regular – very regular – and right now my chances of getting pregnant are nil. Jonathan, you can come back to me if you want!’

  He came to her again, and for a while she was content just to be held by him again, just to have so much of his body pressed close to hers. But they both wanted – they both needed – more. She spread her legs wide apart, a universal gesture of offering. For a moment he was poised over her – and then slowly he lowered himself onto her, into her. There was a hesitation …’But, Tania, you're a …’

  He mustn't stop now. She gripped him, pulled him hard to her, forced her hips up to him. Then she sighed. The pain was tiny, and now they were to …

  It didn't take long. She felt his urgency matching her own, their bodies seeming to take control, to do what they would. And then, explosive and sudden, a joint cry of ecstasy.

  Tania wanted so much to say that she loved him. But still she dared not – not yet. So they lay there, the rain washing at them.

  Of course, they had to get back to the flat. And they couldn't do that stark naked. If they were seen, what might the neighbours think? There were wet clothes scattered by them, all had to be pulled on with difficulty.

  ‘Seems a bit silly to dress when we're going to undress again so quickly,’ he grumbled amiably, ‘but I suppose the conventions must be obeyed.’

  ‘We can say we got caught out in the storm,’ she told him. ‘That's perfectly true.’

  ‘But it's not the whole story, is it?’

  She kissed him. ‘Come on. I'll feel better when we're inside.’

  In fact, they met no one in the entrance or in the lift. Within minutes they were back in the flat, and now she had to start thinking. She knew very well what he would want – and, in fact, it was the same as she would want – but it just wasn't possible.

  ‘Go and have a shower,’ sh
e told him. ‘Put on a dressing gown and come out here and I'll do the same. We need to talk.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ he said gently. ‘First thing, Tania, actions speak louder than words. What we've just done, what we've just had – we can't explain that away.’

  ‘I know. I wouldn't want to and I wouldn't try to. It meant so much to me, Jonathan. But still we must talk.’

  ‘Well, come and have a shower with me. Or we could get in the bath together. Tania, I just want to touch and to hold you.’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Shower and get dry first, then we talk. Talk nicely. Jonathan … this was my first time, with any man. And I still don't know quite what it means. To you or me.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, ‘we'll talk. But afterwards – we have the flat to ourselves. Will you come to my bed for tonight?’

  How she ached to say yes! But she dared not.

  ‘Shower,’ she said. ‘Or you'll catch your death of cold.’ Then she went to the bathroom herself.

  They sat side by side on the couch, cups of cocoa on the coffee table in front of them. It was one of the silly things that bound them together – they both loved cocoa last thing at night to drink.

  Jonathan had wrapped a short dressing gown round himself and he looked keen, alert, his damp hair tousled. There was a glint in his eyes – and Tania could have wept He had beautiful eyes. And his brain wouldn't use them.

  She had dug out her winter dressing gown in blue towelling. It fitted tight to her neck, descended to her feet. She felt safe, protected in it. But she didn't want to feel safe or protected.

  ‘I know you'll think this is silly,’ she said, ‘but if you've got any regard for me you'll do as I say. First of all, I agree with you – what we did was wonderful. I don't regret a minute, it'll be something that I'll carry with me to the end of my days. But we're not going to go any further now. Soon we'll know if you get your sight back or not. It won't make any difference to me. It might make a difference to you. So can we put things on hold till then? Please, Jonathan?’

  He frowned, and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he said, ‘If that's what you want then, of course, that's what we'll do. Though it's going to be hard for me!’

 

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