by Nancy Peach
Dr Fielding, however, was entirely familiar with the concept that some patients affect doctors more than others, and was wise enough to see this case had further-reaching consequences for Tess than most. He let her absorb the news in her own time, and when she had wiped her eyes and composed herself he handed her an envelope edged in black, addressed to Dr Tess Carter.
“We received a general one addressed to the hospice, but it seems that Mrs Russell and her family particularly wanted you to attend,” he said.
He went on to explain that Madeleine had called the hospice to inform them, and had asked to speak directly to Tess herself.
“One of your colleagues was a little unguarded in their discussions and advised Mrs Russell’s daughter that you may in fact be facing suspension because of a complaint coming directly from her family,” Dr Fielding said with a small frown. “Although, I suspect Farida knew exactly what she was doing, because we immediately had a follow-up phone call from Mr Russell putting us very clearly in the picture and absolving you of any shred of responsibility for whatever financial misunderstanding might have occurred.”
He peered over his glasses at her. “The very fact that the poor man saw fit to concern himself with the allegation during the immediate period of mourning his mother speaks volumes.”
“Yes.” A frown of confusion clouded Tess’s features as Dr Fielding continued.
“So, you will see from your letter that the funeral is scheduled for next Friday afternoon.”
“I’m not sure that I want—”
“Tess,” he cut in, “I understand that you may have reservations about going to this funeral, and I share some of those reservations. But I also feel that you need closure in this case, almost as much as the family do. Your patient very clearly wanted you to be there.”
Tess nodded. “Yes. I see.”
“I understand that Mrs Russell knew nothing of Miss Delaney’s complaint, and went to her death unencumbered by that potentially distressing news. She wanted you to be there. I know you were close, and I think if you feel able to attend then a discreet presence at the ceremony, accompanied by a few of your colleagues, including Farida, would be appropriate and appreciated.”
“Okay,” she said, deep in thought. “Thank you.”
Dr Fielding, noticing her expression, let her mull it over for a few moments before continuing. “While we are on the subject of being close to patients, I think there are potentially important issues to address regarding your future career.”
Tess looked up in alarm; did he know more about what had happened with Edward than she thought?
“Nothing at all to be worried about, Tess. Only that I am fearful for your sanity working as a GP if you let yourself get this attached to patients. I have seen colleagues of mine burn out, and I need to reassure myself that this will not happen to you. You will remember my advice when we spoke about the Russells in May? About giving yourself some distance?”
“I tried. I tried to back off. But events sort of conspired against me. I know it sounds lame.”
“Not at all. None of us is capable of heeding advice to the letter, especially when it concerns our own wellbeing. You only need to look at half of our patients to see that.”
“True.”
“So, no, it’s not a telling off, or an ‘I told you so’. I just wonder whether the way in which events have developed has made my point for me, perhaps a little more forcibly than I would have hoped.”
Tess nodded in agreement, relieved that the conversation had not taken a very difficult turn. She left the hospice clutching the black-edged envelope and did not open it until she got home. Inside, on stiff card, she found an invitation to both the formal service being held in the church at two o’clock, and to the family home for refreshments afterwards. On the back of the invitation there was a scribbled note saying:
Please come – Edward x
She chose not to read too much into the kiss next to his name; it had clearly been written in haste, and the man was still in shock. However, she suspected Clara hadn’t seen it. She traced her finger along the words, wondering how he was coping, how the loss of his mother would be affecting him. She wanted desperately to hear his voice or just to catch a glimpse of him, to reassure herself that he was okay, but she knew that she owed it to Clara to not make further contact. Tess could not be involved, no matter how much she wanted to be.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Friday morning dawned bright and sunny, a beautiful day to celebrate the life of Mary Russell. Tess and Farida deliberately coordinated their arrival with the latecomers and squeezed into one of the back pews. The church was packed to the rafters and rays of sunlight poured through the stained glass, throwing patches of colour onto the sombre clothes of the people gathered beneath. The heady scent of lilies and stocks filled the cooler air of the stone interior and Tess thought briefly of Janice arranging her flowers back at the hospice, and smiled. She couldn’t see Clara but guessed that she must be nearer the front, out of view. Once Tess had established that there was little danger of either woman observing the other, she relaxed. That was until she saw Edward.
As the doors closed and the entrance music began, the slow tread of the pallbearers caused a hush to fall across the congregation. Tess had her head bowed but looked across just as they passed her section of the aisle and saw him supporting the leading edge of the coffin on his shoulder. She felt as if someone had taken a baton to the backs of her knees and she jolted, having to steady herself with a hand on the pew in front.
“Hold firm, my dear,” Jane Austen murmured quietly. “Courage and fortitude.”
Farida took her arm to steady her, mistaking her reaction for anxiety about potentially bumping into Clara. Tess did not allow herself another look until she had the reassuring solidity of the pew beneath her, but she could just about make out Edward right at the front, sitting next to Madeleine. Even from this distance she could see that he had lost a little weight; his face was drawn as if he hadn’t slept for days. Her heart ached seeing him like this. It was ridiculous to speak of love, but the rush of emotion she felt for him was more than just sympathy and compassion. It felt much stronger, as if she wanted to take his pain and break it, to protect him from ever being harmed again. She had felt something similar when her grandmother was dying, a sense of her own hurt being intrinsically linked to that of another. Seeing Edward at that moment she felt real grief, not only for Mary, but for the loss of what might have been.
When he stood for the first reading and came to the lectern, she could see him more clearly. He didn’t falter, delivering the words in a clear, precise voice, but she could hear the sorrow just beneath the surface. As he finished the reading, he seemed to scan the people arrayed before him, searching the faces in the congregation before sitting back down and taking Madeleine’s hand.
Finally, it was over. Tess wanted to leave before there was any possibility of running into Clara, but it felt unseemly to bid too hasty a retreat from a funeral, and Farida wanted the family to know that she had been there, representing the hospice. They stood a little way back from the crowd, in the shade of a large tree, as the congregation made their way out of the church. Edward was occupied with an elderly couple, the man gripping his hands and the woman dabbing her eyes whilst talking to him, but Madeleine spotted them immediately and headed straight over, flinging her arms round Tess as she reached her.
“Tess! I’m so glad you could make it. And Dr Grainger”—she turned to Farida—“you too. It means a great deal to us as a family to have you here.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” said Farida, and Tess added, “We really wanted to come.”
Madeleine smiled her gratitude. “St Martin’s was such a tremendous support to Mummy over the past few months. She wanted all donations to go there, so you’ll probably be getting a big cheque soon. There’s quite a few of her friends with very deep pockets!”
The last thing Tess wanted to be involved with was a conversation about
the Russells’s financial dealings, particularly in the context of gifts to the hospice, a fact that Madeleine suddenly realised. She grabbed Tess’s hand.
“I’m so sorry. That was insensitive, given the recent issues. I’ve never been the most diplomatic of people, always putting my foot in it, and now I seem to be even worse than ever!”
Her words were tumbling out of her mouth and she stopped to take a deep breath. Tess could see that she was tense, strung with a nervous energy, and likely drawing on her very last reserves to get through the funeral.
“It’s okay,” she squeezed Madeleine’s hand back. “People understand; you’ve got a lot on your plate. It can’t be easy having to organise all of this when you’ve got the kids with you and are still going through your own loss. You must make sure you get a break at some point.”
Madeleine nodded, tears were shining in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Just got to get through today! And then we’re back to America next week. Eddie’s coming with us. He needs a rest just as much as I do, maybe more so…” She smiled. “Secretly I’m hoping he’ll stay for good. There’s nothing to keep him here anymore, and he can just as easily work out there; he’ll slip into a job like that.” She clicked her fingers. “He’s got a great reputation, very much in demand. The Chicago office is already lining up projects for him, but he’s been very clear about wanting a proper break first. Where is he anyway?” She peered over her shoulder. “Oh, with the Barnetts. He’ll be a while.”
She turned back to Tess. “He really wants to see you. You are coming to the house afterwards? And you too, Dr Grainger? There’s a mountain of food. Goodness only knows how we’re going to get through it all, and many of Mum’s friends will want to meet the people who looked after her. She talked about you a lot…”
Farida explained that she had to get back to work; her shift did not finish until later that evening and Dr Fielding was covering until she returned. “But thank you for the offer and for your kind words about the hospice,” she said, taking Madeleine’s hand. “I will relay them to the rest of the team. They loved looking after your mum. She was an absolute treasure.”
She turned to Tess. “I’ll see you soon? Pop in and let us know about the world of general practice, won’t you? I know Rob would love to see you too. Maybe we could meet up for coffee? I’ll call you.”
She headed off to her car, leaving Tess standing with Madeleine.
“You’ll come to the house though, Dr Carter?”
“I really don’t want to cause a scene.” Tess fiddled with her handbag. The news about Edward going to America had hit her harder than expected. “I’m not sure Miss Delaney would be thrilled to have me there, and I can’t bear the idea of some kind of public slanging match on a day like today. Maybe it’s better if I just pay my respects here and leave?”
Madeleine looked nonplussed. “Clara won’t be there. She and Edward split up a couple of weeks ago.” She registered Tess’s look of surprise. “Sorry, I thought you knew. The timings are all a bit muddled. I think it kicked off the night before Mummy came home. It seems he and Clara had a frightful row and I imagine it was absolutely the last straw. As far as I could tell she’d been absolutely no support whatsoever, and I’m amazed she hung around for as long as she did.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
“Clearly she was more hindrance than help, because straight away it was like a weight had been lifted off Eddie’s shoulders.” Madeleine smiled. “Mummy came home and he was much better able to cope; he really enjoyed his last few days with her. It’s an odd thing to say, but we all did. She was surrounded by family and we could see how much happier she was at home. It made everything easier, just like you said it would.”
She went on to tell Tess about calling the hospice to let them know about Mary’s death and finding out about the complaint. “Eddie was absolutely livid. We knew it must be Clara, but I guess we were all a little surprised that she would be so vindictive.”
“Perhaps she didn’t mean—”
“Oh, she knew what she was doing all right. I think maybe she was jealous of you in some way… she saw you as a threat? I don’t know…” She paused, looking at Tess carefully, “There is something, isn’t there? I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m not stupid; there’s something about the way he looks at you. I expect Clara picked up on it before me.”
“I’m not really—”
“Anyway, the upshot was that Eddie got on the phone to them immediately and put the record straight. He was completely devastated about the fact that this might have all had a negative impact on your career. Held himself responsible – you know what he’s like.” She looked at Tess shrewdly again. “I mean, you really do know what he’s like. Not many other people see who he is, but I think perhaps you do.”
Tess was careful not to give too much away, but she could easily imagine how Edward would have beaten himself up over something like that. She let Madeleine carry on.
“So, I thought it might plunge him back into the gloom again, but your boss, lovely chap, said that he thought everything would be all right and that Eddie had really helped give some clarity to the situation. He still blames himself for the entire fiasco, but what can you do?”
“Very little, I imagine.”
“Long and short of it is, Dr Carter, he’d really want to tell you this himself. Please do come to the house. I’ll make sure you get a chance to talk properly whilst I man the vol-au-vents and sherry.”
Tess thanked Madeleine for the invitation and said that she would do her best to get there, buying herself some time with a fabricated excuse about something she needed to do in town first. Madeleine explained that she and Edward would be going to the crematorium with immediate family members and then back to the house, where Pauline and a small army of helpers were currently preparing some sort of Sandwich Armageddon, alongside entertaining the children. She pressed Tess’s hands between hers. “Please, please do come,” she said, before releasing her and moving off into the assembled crowd of mourners who were showing little sign of dispersing.
Tess was increasingly feeling the need for a bit of space to clear her head. She saw Henry, the vet, from a distance and returned his wave but managed to slip away otherwise unnoticed, driving back into Bristol just as far as the Downs and pulling up beside one of the grander houses of Sneyd Park before walking the short distance to the viewpoint where she could see the suspension bridge and the Avon Gorge. Here she took a few deep lungfuls of air, feeling the welcome breeze gusting off the Severn and bouncing up the walls of the gorge to the people above. She could see the odd climber dotted across the cliff face, their hard hats reflecting in the sun, and behind her a group of kids were playing a loose game of football, the end of term still recent enough for the sense of freedom not to have yet been overtaken by boredom. Mums and nannies were queuing by the ice cream van nearby, and it felt to all intents and purposes like an ordinary summer’s day. Except that to Tess, it was anything but ordinary.
Over the other side of the gorge, beyond the scrabbled shrubbery clinging to the sheer edges, preparations at the Russell residence would be well underway. Edward and Madeleine would be arriving home shortly, and Tess allowed herself to imagine the house in its glorious splendour, opening its doors to all those who wanted to pay their respects and bring condolences to Mary’s family. And, extraordinarily, it seemed that amongst the gathered assembly, there would be no Clara Delaney. The source of Tess’s angst over the past few weeks was gone, an enemy vanquished, and suddenly she was overcome by her previous sense of shame and guilt. The television host was back in her ear, and this time she could almost picture him, perched jauntily on the stone wall, his teeth white, his tan mahogany, his hair highlighted and oiled, everything about him oozing fakery and malign intent.
“How does it feel, Tess? To know that you destroyed a relationship?” In her mind’s eye she saw him take a slow, languorous lick of his ice cream. “After all, you’ve been on the r
eceiving end of betrayal. You know how it feels when the man you thought you loved no longer wants you.” He swung his legs against the stone, humming to himself as he watched the children playing on the green. “That Edward fella could have been happy with his classy bird if you hadn’t come grubbing about like a nasty little whore. And why did you do it?” He leaned his face in and she could almost smell the sickly vanilla on his breath. “Just to boost your own self-esteem!” He leaned back and laughed to the studio audience. “She thinks she’s better than us, this one. But she’s not. She’s just like her mother – a cheap tart!”
The audience booed loudly and the host returned his attention to Tess. “You listen to them, doc,” he whispered. “You’ll be hearing that noise again and again. D’you know what that is? The sound of judgement!”
Tess began to walk away but she could still see the faint image of him sidling along the wall to keep up with her.
“And don’t think them splitting up changes anything, Tess! He doesn’t have feelings for you. He knows what you are, and he won’t be in any hurry to replace his posh totty with an ugly trollop! Why d’you think he’s going to America? Better skulk away now while you’ve got your dignity… Oh, wait, I think you left that behind in the hospice shed!”
Tess stopped and turned to face her imaginary host, this manifestation of all the negative thoughts that had plagued her over the years. Jane Austen’s voice was suddenly so powerful and present that it was almost as if she too had taken on a physical shape.
“You have no further need of this particular gentleman’s services, Tess, dearest. He has no power over you. Perhaps we should now take our leave of hi. Bid him adieu.” And with those words the host toppled back off the wall, plummeting into the gorge below, his malicious stream of invective trailing after him, becoming fainter the further he fell.
Chapter Thirty-Four
