‘Hi, Terri. How are things going?’ Marie saw a young mother with whom Alex had been working approaching her.
Terri’s older child had been born with spina bifida, and although surgery had closed the opening in her spine, the little girl had been left with weakness in her legs and needed a specialist exercise regime.
‘Good, thanks. This place is an absolute godsend.’ Terri beamed at her. ‘All that travelling we used to do to get to a hydrotherapy pool for Amy, and now we can just walk around the corner.’
‘You’re enjoying your swimming?’ Marie grinned down at Terri’s eight-year-old daughter and Amy nodded.
‘I’m going to swim too.’ Five-year-old Sam had been walking next to his sister’s wheelchair, hanging obediently onto the side of it. ‘I’m going to be a really good swimmer, and then I can help Amy.’
Terri grinned. ‘It’s great for both of them. We couldn’t afford the time to take Sam to a class as well, but the hydrotherapist says she’ll book Amy’s sessions at the same time as the junior swim class, so Sam can swim too. Usually he just has to sit with me by the pool.’
‘That’s great.’
It was exactly what the clinic was for. Helping whole families to cope. Terri was looking less tired than she had when Marie had first met her.
‘What’s that?’ Sam had left his sister’s side and was standing on his toes, peering through the window into the courtyard.
‘It’s our garden. If you’ve got time, you can come and have a look.’
Marie shot a questioning look at Terri and she nodded. Opening the door, Marie let Sam into the courtyard and he started to run around, stopping in front of each planter to look at the flowers.
Terri parked Amy’s wheelchair next to the water feature, so she could reach out to touch the plants around it. Then she sank down onto a nearby bench.
‘This is lovely. I could stay here all day.’
Sam and Amy were amusing each other, and Terri gave a satisfied smile.
‘Hello, Amy.’ A woman stopped in the corridor by the open door. ‘How are you, dear?’
‘Very well, thank you, Miss Fletcher.’ Amy sat a little straighter in her wheelchair and Marie suppressed a smile.
Jennifer Fletcher had been one of the first people through the doors when the clinic had opened. A retired primary school teacher, she seemed to know every child in the district, and had taught a number of their parents as well.
‘This is lovely.’ Jennifer craned her neck to see the garden, obviously hesitant to inspect it more closely without being asked.
‘Come and join us, Miss Fletcher.’ Terri grinned at her.
‘It’s about time you called me Jennifer.’
Miss Fletcher walked slowly across to the bench and Marie moved to make room for her.
‘What brings you here...um... Jennifer?’ Terri was clearly reticent about calling her old schoolteacher by her first name.
‘I’ve been having a few aches and pains since I retired last spring, so I decided to come along and see if I could join an exercise class. I had a full physical, and the doctors have found I have an inflammation in my right hip.’
Jennifer beamed at Marie. She’d had the distinction of being the first patient to try out the new MRI scanner, and it had shown that, instead of a touch of arthritis, the bursa in her right hip was inflamed. Jennifer had professed delight at the thought that this could be rectified, and was already seeing the clinic’s physiotherapist.
‘I’ve got a full exercise programme and I think I’m doing rather well. It’s early days, of course, but the physiotherapist here says that core strength is important as you enter your seventies.’ Jennifer looked around the garden. ‘You’ll be adding a few bedding plants?’
‘It’s a work in progress. We’ve planted some seeds, and we have some cuttings over there in the corner.’ Marie pointed to the yoghurt pots, full of water, where the cuttings were beginning to grow roots.
She saw Amy’s head turn, and the little girl leaned over to see. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to help us plant some, would you, Amy?’
‘Mum...?’ Amy turned to Terri.
‘Of course. But we mustn’t take up Dr Davies’s time.’ Terri flashed Marie an apologetic look.
‘That’s all right. If Amy would like to help with the garden—’
‘Well, I would, too...’ Jennifer spoke up.
It seemed that the garden had just acquired its first few volunteers.
Marie brought some of the pots over, moving a table so that Jennifer and Amy could work together, planting the Busy Lizzies. Sam had taken a couple of action figures from his mother’s handbag, and he was playing with them.
‘Would you like a drink? I’ll pop over to the café.’
Everyone else was occupied and Terri deserved a break.
‘You know what...?’ Terri gave her a wry smile. ‘I’d like to just stroll over there and get something. On my own. If you or Jennifer don’t mind staying here with the kids, that is...?’
Marie knew the feeling well. Terri craved a moment to herself, so she could do something ordinary. She’d felt like that when she was a teenager. Wanting just five minutes that she could call her own, without one or other of her brothers wanting something.
‘Of course. We’ll be another half an hour with this, if you want to sit in the café?’
‘No, that’s okay. Can I get you something?’ Terri pulled her purse out of her bag. ‘My treat.’
If Marie wanted coffee, she had the lovely machine in her office. But that wasn’t the point. It was clearly important to Terri that she get it, and she should accept the offer.
‘A cup of tea would be nice. Thank you.’
Terri grinned, turning to Jennifer. ‘Would you like a drink?’
Fifteen minutes later she saw Terri strolling back towards them, chatting to Alex. He was carrying a tray with four cups and a couple of child-sized boxes of juice, and when he’d handed the drinks around and stopped to find out how Jennifer and Amy were he strolled over to Sam to deliver his drink.
‘They never quite grow up, do they?’ Terri was drinking her coffee, watching Alex and Sam. The little boy had shown Alex his action figures, and the two were now busily engaged in making them jump from one planter to another. Sam jumped his onto the water feature with a splash and Alex followed with his, and the two figures started to fight in the swirling water.
By the time Terri said that they should go home, Alex’s shirt was dappled with water. The pots were gathered up and labelled as Amy’s, so that she could watch her plants grow and transfer them to the planters when they were big enough. Sam said goodbye to Alex, promising that they would continue their fight the next time he was here, and Alex thanked him gravely.
‘I’m hoping your mother wouldn’t have minded too much...’ Marie nodded towards the water feature.
‘Mind? She’d have loved it.’ Alex grinned at her, coming to sit down on the bench.
‘Good. And of course all that splashing about was entirely for Sam’s benefit?’
It had occurred to Marie that Alex’s love of silly games was because he’d never got the chance to play them when he was a child.
‘Of course.’ Alex brushed at his shirt, as if he’d only just noticed the water. ‘I have absolutely no idea why you should think otherwise. Ooh—I had a call from Sonya.’
‘What does she want us to do now?’
Sonya’s calls generally meant smiling for one camera or another, but every time they did it Sofia Costa received a fresh wave of enquiries.
‘It’s an evening do at the Institute of Business. They throw a very select party once in a while, so their members can meet people who are doing groundbreaking work in various charitable and medical fields. Most big businesses like to have their names associated with a few good causes, and making those contacts now
will help us in the future.’
Even the scale of Alex’s wealth wasn’t going to finance his dreams of creating and running a chain of clinics all over the country. This was about the future—one that Alex was going to build for himself.
‘That sounds great. Does Sonya know someone at the Institute?’
‘No, but it turns out that a couple of the Institute’s board of directors went to my school and they vaguely remember me. Sonya’s managed to swing a couple of invitations.’
‘So Sonya’s going with you?’ That would be good. She’d keep Alex in line and on message.
‘No, she’s going with her husband. The second invitation is for you.’
‘What?’ All the quiet peace of the garden suddenly evaporated. ‘Tell me you’re joking, Alex.’
‘Why would I be? You have as much to say about the clinic as me.’
He leaned forward, his eyes betraying the touch of mischief that Marie loved so much. At any other time than this.
‘And the whole point of a man’s dinner suit is to show off a woman’s dress.’
Suddenly she felt sick. ‘I can’t hobnob with the rich and famous, Alex. I don’t know how to talk with these people, or how to act.’
‘How about just the same as you always do?’
There was a trace of hurt in his voice. He was rich. And it was only a matter of time before he’d be famous. She knew Alex was under no illusions that he could keep his royal status under wraps indefinitely—he just wanted to put the moment off for as long as he could.
‘I can’t, Alex. I just...can’t.’
He thought for a moment, his face grave. ‘Okay. If you can’t do it, then you can’t. I’m not going to tell you that the clinic needs you, or that I need you, because that wouldn’t give you any choice. You’re always there for the people who need you.’
‘What do you mean?’ The lump in Marie’s throat betrayed her. She knew exactly what he meant.
‘You’ve always been there for your mother and brothers. Don’t get me wrong—that’s a fine thing, and I envy you it. I’d have done anything for my mother to need me a bit more. But I know it’s not been easy for you; it never is for people who care for the people they love.’
She’d been thinking the same about Terri, just moments ago. He was right, but Marie dismissed the thought. It was too awkward.
‘So you’re telling me I don’t have to go?’
‘Of course. You don’t have to do anything. I’d really like you to go, because I think you’re selling yourself short. And because a very wise person once told me that I needed to accept who I am and write my own script. I’d like you to accept who I am and come with me, as my friend.’
Dammit. Saying he needed her would have been easy compared to this. Alex was reaching out, asking her to step out of her comfort zone and meet him halfway.
‘So when is this reception?’
‘Next month. I could go dress-shopping with you...?’
He looked as if he’d enjoy that far too much.
‘No, that’s fine. I can handle that.’
‘Then you’re coming?’
‘Yes, all right. I’ll come.’
At least it would serve as a reminder to her that she and Alex came from different worlds. That they could be friends, but anything more was unthinkable. It had always been unthinkable, but it was doubly so now that they were working together.
He grinned. ‘Great. I’ll let Sonya know. Should I quit while I’m winning?’
She could never resist his smile. ‘Yes. Please do that, Alex.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARIE HAD BOUGHT Alex an action figure. She reckoned it was what every boy needed, in case someone turned up in his office needing to play, and Alex had arranged the jointed arms and legs so that the figure leant nonchalantly against one of the plant pots on his windowsill.
She tried to repress a yawn, failing miserably. Jennifer Fletcher had expressed enthusiasm over an idea for a carers’ support group for mums like Terri, and said that she had another couple of friends who might be interested in helping. They were having to sort out all the relevant statutory checks for the volunteers who were going to be working with children, and assess the needs of the kids so that the clinic could provide the professional staff that would be required. It was going to take a couple of hours.
‘Why don’t we finish for the evening? This can wait,’ said Alex.
‘It can’t, Alex. We’ve both got a full day tomorrow.’
And Marie had left work at five o’clock sharp for the last couple of evenings. She was feeling guilty about having left Alex alone working, but her mother was having one of her crises and Marie had been up late, talking her down.
He opened his mouth, obviously about to protest, but the sound of the front gates rattling silenced him.
Alex went to the window, and then turned. ‘Nisha’s outside. You don’t have an appointment with her, do you?’
‘No, all her medical tests came back okay, so I referred her to our relationship counsellor...’
Marie followed Alex outside and saw that Nisha was walking away from the gates now. He hurried to unlock them.
‘I’m sorry...’ Nisha turned back to him, tears streaming down her face. ‘I shouldn’t have come...’
‘That’s all right. Come inside and tell us what the matter is.’
Alex’s question provoked more tears. ‘When I spoke to Anita at the clinic she said that we didn’t have to have sex...we could just spend time together. But one thing led to another...’
It was a measure of her distress that Nisha had forgotten all her reticence in talking about the problem.
‘Okay, well, come inside.’
Alex glanced at Marie. He had no hesitation in talking to patients about sexual matters, but he was clearly wondering if Nisha wouldn’t feel more comfortable discussing this with Marie.
‘We had such a lovely time. But now it hurts to pee, and I’m passing blood. Carol says it’s cystitis. What am I going to tell my husband?’
Alex frowned, clearly wondering whether Nisha wanted him to respond or not.
Marie decided to put him out of his misery. ‘Let’s go inside, eh? Alex, why don’t you take the pushchair?’
‘I’m so sorry. It’s later than I thought—you must be closed by now...’
‘That’s okay. I’m glad you came.’
That was almost the truth. Marie was glad Nisha had asked for help—she just wished she’d needed it on another evening, when she wasn’t so tired. But when she took Nisha’s hand she felt it warm and trembling in hers and forgot all about that.
Nisha was running a fever, and clearly not at all well. After Marie had tested a sample of her urine, to confirm Carol’s diagnosis, she curled up on the examination couch, shivering and crying.
‘Can we call your husband? I think it would be best if he came and picked you up.’
Nisha nodded. ‘I’m so disappointed. I thought we were doing everything right, at last...’
‘I know it’s easy to feel it is, but this is not your fault. Recovery isn’t always a straight line; it’s sometimes two steps forward and one step back. But this is an infection and we can deal with it. You’ll feel a lot better when the antibiotics start to take effect.’
‘Sorry...’
Marie smiled at Nisha. ‘And stop apologising, will you? This is what we’re here for.’
‘I’m so glad you are here. Thank you.’
Nisha’s husband arrived—a quiet, smiling man, who made sure that the first thing he did was hug his wife.
Prompted by Marie, Nisha told him what had happened and he nodded. ‘I’ll stay home from work tomorrow to look after you.’
‘No. You don’t need to...’
But Nisha obviously wanted him to, and Marie guessed it wouldn’t take much b
efore she gave in and accepted his offer.
‘Give us a call if there’s anything we can help with.’ She handed Nisha’s husband her card. ‘If the clinic’s closed, you can use the out-of-hours number; there will be someone on hand to advise you.’
‘Thank you—for everything. I’ll take good care of her.’ Nisha’s husband helped her down from the couch, putting his arm around her protectively.
Alex opened the gates and bade the couple goodbye, reserving a special smile for the child in the pushchair, who had slept soundly through the whole thing.
Then he turned, walking back to his office, where Marie was waiting for him. He picked up her laptop and papers, tucking them under his arm. ‘We’re going back to mine. We’ll get a takeaway.’
Just like the old days. When he’d brook none of her arguments about needing to work and insist she take a break for just one evening. That had usually involved food, as well, and the tradition had persisted. His flat was on her way home, and after a day spent at the clinic it would be nice to talk over a meal.
‘It’s my turn to get the takeaway, isn’t it? Shall we go for Thai this time?’ Marie’s resources stretched to taking her turn in paying for the food now.
He shrugged, picking up his car keys. ‘That sounds great.’
Alex’s flat was on the top floor of a mansion block in Hampstead. Quiet and secluded, but just moments away from a parade of artisan food shops and cafés, and little boutiques that sold clothes with hefty price tags.
Inside, it reeked of quiet quality. Large rooms with high ceilings, and a hallway that was built to accommodate cupboards and storage and still give more than enough space. Alex might have rejected his father’s lifestyle, but he’d absorbed an appreciation for nice things, and he always bought the best he could afford. The sofas were the same ones he’d had in medical school, but they were still as comfortable and looked as good. If you could afford it, there was economy in that.
‘You order. I’ll put some music on. What do you fancy? A little late-night jazz?’
The sitting room was lined with cabinets that housed Alex’s extensive books and music collection. Marie had never hesitated in sharing his music with him—it was one of those things that cost nothing and brought them both joy.
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