Return of Dr Maguire (Mills & Boon Medical)

by Judy Campbell

  His voice died away, the sad words hanging in the air, filled with poignancy. Christa reached for his hand and squeezed it comfortingly, aware of the effort it was taking for Lachlan to admit his mistakes.

  ‘I’m sure she forgave you, Lachlan, probably understood only too well why you left home. I’m sure she felt guilty too, breaking up the family.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘She did forgive me—she left a letter with the solicitor that made it plain that she blamed herself for all that happened.’ He was silent for a moment then looked bleakly at Christa. ‘Now I realise that she was well aware that her time was short, and if I could only turn back the clock, I would. I regret so much not making it up with my mother. One thing I do know,’ he added fiercely, ‘is that I shall do everything I can to fulfil her wishes in that letter. At least I can do that!’

  There was something heartbreaking about seeing his strong face etched with sadness and the remorse he felt about being too late to make amends with his mother. Christa put her arm around him and hugged him to her.

  ‘None of it was of your making. You thought you had an idyllic family life with parents who loved each other. It must have shattered you when you realised that wasn’t true.’ She hesitated before saying diffidently, ‘Did your mother’s affair end when your father left home?’

  ‘Her lover was killed in a crash on the motorway,’ Lachlan said simply. ‘I hoped it would mean she and my father would get back together but they didn’t and he left the area.’ He gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘So much for that ridiculous vow to be together till death did them part.’

  Was that shorthand for reminding her that he did not believe in commitment for life? wondered Christa wistfully. She remembered his throwaway remark: ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’ Wedding bells didn’t seem to be on his agenda!

  He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled. ‘God, this is all about me, me, me! Now, let’s get comfortable and tell me about your family—your mother...’

  And by ‘comfortable’ he evidently meant that they should sit together on the soft sand in the dunes, one arm around her, hugging her to him. She snuggled up to him, loving the feel of his warm body against hers.

  ‘Ah...Mum’s one feisty woman,’ she said. ‘She was devastated after Dad’s death, but gradually she’s developed plenty of interests—and, of course, now she has her friend Bertie, the loveliest man from the next-door flat, and they do loads of things together.’

  Lachlan grinned. ‘A feisty woman, eh? You sound as if you take after her. I’d like to meet your mother. I take it your father wasn’t a medical man?’

  ‘No. He used to run a small business with my Uncle Angus, supplying drugs to medical practices, although sadly in later years apparently they didn’t get on. But my father was lovely, great fun and I do miss him...’

  ‘He was different from your wicked uncle Angus, then?’ Lachlan said lightly. ‘What happened to Angus’s wife and child after he left them?’

  ‘I believe she moved away down south and remarried. We never hear from her unfortunately. You said you’d met him—did he seem wicked to you?’

  Lachlan hesitated for a second then said, ‘He did have a reputation with women, I suppose...’

  ‘How could you tell?’ she asked, smiling.

  He pushed his hand through his thick hair so that it stood up in little spikes, and looked at Christa quizzically. ‘There’s rather more to your uncle’s story than you might imagine...’

  She looked surprised and laughed. ‘Oh? That’s very intriguing.’

  ‘Could be a bit of a shock.’

  ‘Nothing much shocks me. Spill the beans, I’m a big girl now!’ Fleetingly, she remembered that she’d said as much to her mother a few hours earlier.

  Lachlan shrugged. ‘Hell. You’ve got to know some time. Are you ready for this?’ He paused as if weighing up how to tell Christa, then said, with a trace of bitterness, ‘The fact is, the man my mother had an affair with was your uncle. Angus Lennox used to come to the surgery as a drug rep for his company—and that’s how he met my mother. The rest is history. Then he was killed in a traffic accident coming to see her one evening, but by that time her marriage was over, and so was our happy family life.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SMILE FADED from Christa’s face and she gazed at Lachlan in complete amazement, her mouth an O of surprise.

  ‘What? Isobel and Uncle Angus? You’re kidding!’ She pulled some long grass from the sand dune and pulled at it distractedly. ‘I can hardly believe it. Isobel and I were so close, but she never gave a hint that she’d had an affair, let alone that it was with Angus...’

  ‘Reopening old wounds, do you think?’ suggested Lachlan gently.

  Christa nodded. ‘Perhaps... But it’s such a shock.’

  She bit her lip, suddenly realising just why her mother seemed less than enthusiastic about Isobel, and a relationship developing between her daughter and Lachlan.

  So that was what had caused the huge rift between her father and his brother—brothers who had been so close before Angus’s affair. That closeness had been severed for ever after he’d left his wife and had then died, and the unhappy memories of that time must still rankle with her mother.

  She got up from beside Lachlan and walked over to the little stone breakwater at the edge of the dunes, and Lachlan stood beside her and put his arm round her. ‘I’m sorry I had to tell you, sweetheart, but surely it’s better that you know...’

  ‘Of course I should know,’ she said robustly. ‘I can’t imagine why Mum kept it to herself all these years—it certainly makes things a little clearer.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve always felt that she was never as, well, fond of Isobel as I was.’ She hesitated before saying in a rather embarrassed way, ‘And when I told her you were joining the practice she didn’t seem exactly keen.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘But these things happened a long time ago, honey. Surely she’s moved on from there by now?’

  She sighed. ‘Perhaps.’ She looked at Lachlan with a frown. ‘But you must have hated our family too. No wonder you seemed startled when you heard who I was—the niece of the man who had broken up your parents’ marriage working with your mother! That’s a big crumb to swallow.’

  ‘It was a shock at first,’ Lachlan admitted, then his deep blue eyes held hers and he said with a cheeky grin, ‘Now I don’t think that way at all, I can tell you—especially after that wonderful night we had together, sweetheart!’

  He turned her round gently and tilted her face to his, then brushed her mouth with a feather touch of his lips, trailing kisses down her neck. It was unbearably sexy, sending sparks of desire through every nerve of her body, dissolving her legs to jelly, making her feel dizzy with desire—and it took every ounce of control for Christa to pull herself back from him, half laughing, half protesting.

  ‘Oh, Lachlan—stop it! I just want you to understand how much that quarrel between my uncle and my father affected my family. I can see why Mum would resent any connection to the Maguires.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’ The wind blew Lachlan’s hair over his eyes and he brushed it away impatiently. ‘Surely she doesn’t harbour a grudge against me. After all, it wasn’t my fault!’ He looked down at her with a grin. ‘Mind you, I won’t deny it was a shock to learn when I arrived back here a few weeks ago that you were Angus Lennox’s niece. I even felt a twang of jealousy that you and my mother had this terrific bond when you worked together. But it’s history now...’

  Christa looked at him levelly. ‘I could never risk upsetting Mum, Lachlan. It’s just been the two of us for so long and she sacrificed such a lot to get me through med school. Can you understand that? I need to tread carefully.’

  ‘So what are you saying, Christa? That it affects your relationship with me?’

  Lachlan’s blue eyes glowered down at her truculently, and she was silent for a moment. Did it really make a difference to her relati
onship with Lachlan? Would she reopen old wounds of her mother’s by going out with him? Perhaps it was better to put the brakes on a budding romance before it got too serious—on her side anyway.

  ‘It changes things a little...’ she said at last.

  ‘But surely you’re not going to be ruled by your mother all your life? Why should you be constrained by what she thinks?’ He sounded exasperated.

  Christa flushed. ‘Because she is my mother! I just happen to care about her feelings—that’s all.’

  ‘I never thought of you as a mummy’s girl,’ he commented drily.

  A cold wind blew across the firth and the temperature between them seemed to drop as well—what had started out as a magical day suddenly seemed dark.

  Christa’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! I’m just saying that falling out with my mother is something I could never do!’

  Lachlan’s expression hardened and he said tersely, ‘If that’s supposed to be a sanctimonious dig at me and my relationship with Isobel, it’s a cheap jibe!’

  ‘You know I didn’t mean it that way!’ Christa stared at him coldly. ‘I just want to sound the ground a bit...surely you can understand that?’

  They gazed stonily at each other, their bodies tense, standing some way apart. Christa shivered, and not just because of the cold wind but because this silly quarrel seemed to have sprung out of nowhere—and it was horrible that one minute they could be so close and the next as if they were on different planets.

  Lachlan bunched his fists in his pockets, appalled that the temperature between them had plummeted several degrees below freezing—and, in his view, over nothing at all! The wind had whipped Christa’s auburn hair into a tousled halo and her eyes were bright with anger—and she had never looked lovelier. Lachlan’s expression softened, and he stepped forward, putting out his arms and drawing her close to him.

  ‘Come here, Christa. What are we like? Of course you care what your mother thinks, and so do I. Go and talk to her—tell her about us. She might not be so against it as you thought. After all, we’re just...rather good friends, aren’t we?’

  Christa swallowed. Of course they were! She was making a fuss over nothing...

  He smiled at her, his periwinkle blue eyes heart-meltingly rueful. ‘I didn’t mean to be so unsympathetic. We’ll take things as slowly as you like. Am I forgiven?’

  And Christa, nestled into the comfort of that warm body, shook her head, smiling remorsefully up at him. ‘Don’t be silly! It’s my fault. I guess I went over the top a bit. You’re right—who I go out with is nothing to do with my mother. But learning the truth about Angus was a tremendous shock. To think I worked all those years with Isobel and she never revealed it.’ She dimpled up at him. ‘There’s no more little secrets you’re hiding from me, are there?’

  ‘Only a few,’ he murmured. ‘Now let me apologise to you properly...’

  And apologising took quite a long time, because his lips were on hers demandingly, his hands caressing her body tenderly, and any thoughts she’d had about upsetting her mother seemed gradually to melt away. She would have a talk with her mother some time—that would be the best thing. If Lachlan could get over his aversion to the Lennox family, surely Pat could accept Lachlan.

  A few huge drops of rain splashed down onto them and Lachlan glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were massing over the firth and the wind was whipping up.

  ‘Do you think we could go somewhere more comfortable?’ he suggested mildly. ‘It’s bloody freezing out here and we’re going to be soaked! We’ll go back to Ardenleigh, and I’ll light a fire in that big fireplace in the drawing room, like you suggested. It will be cosy and warm in no time.’

  A sudden vivid vision of two bodies in front of the fire, warmed by its heat and entwined together, floated into Christa’s mind, sending little sparks of excitement crackling through her body.

  She laughed. ‘Sounds good to me. But remember what we said about not rushing things...’

  Lachlan grinned wickedly. ‘I’ll give it careful thought,’ he said.

  Neither of them heard Christa’s mobile ringing at first, then Christa grimaced and pulled it out of her pocket.

  ‘Wouldn’t you know it—I thought I’d turned it off,’ she said.

  She held it to her ear and her expression changed. Her mother’s agitated voice sounded in her ear. She mouthed to Lachlan, ‘It’s Mum—she sounds awful...’

  ‘Christa? Oh, darling, something awful’s h-happened,’ Pat stuttered hoarsely. ‘Could you get here as soon as possible? It’s Bertie, he’s, he’s just collapsed with terrible pain across his chest. He says it’s just a pulled muscle, but he looks very grey and his breathing seems so laboured...’

  Christa’s heart froze. Dear God, it sounded as if Bertie was having a heart attack. ‘Have you rung for an ambulance, Mum?’

  ‘Yes...then they rang back to say they’d come as quickly as they could, but they’ve been diverted because of a landslide through the Inchhill Pass. They told me to ring the GP and they’d be there as soon as they could—and to try and prop Bertie up. I’ve tried to but he’s heavy... Oh, dear me...’

  There was an edge of panic in her mother’s voice, and Christa forced her own voice to be calm. ‘I’m on my way now, Mum. Is he at your flat? I’ll get in touch with the ambulance service again and see if they’ve got through the landslide. Don’t worry—keep talking to Bertie, reassure him that help’s on its way.’

  ‘I get the drift,’ said Lachlan, who’d been watching her face intently. ‘Come on—let’s get your car and your medical bag.’

  They sprinted along the sands, the rain and wind beating into their faces.

  ‘It’s my mother’s elderly neighbour...Bertie Smith,’ panted Christa, her words tumbling over each other as she tried to explain what had happened to Lachlan as they ran. ‘She thinks he’s had a heart attack, and the ambulance is stuck in the Inchhill Pass...’

  Dealing with emergencies like this was something GPs had to cope with, but Lachlan was well aware that in a life-and-death situation it could be a blessing to have another pair of hands.

  ‘Have you got adrenalin and morphine in your bag?’

  ‘Yes—and atropine.’

  ‘What about oxygen?’

  ‘Thank God I’ve got a cylinder in the boot. It’s a spare for a patient, but she’s got plenty to be going on with.’

  ‘Then while you’re driving I’ll get an update on the ambulance’s ETA.’

  They picked up Christa’s car and medical bag, and she put her foot down, going as fast as she dared to her mother’s flat. Lachlan flicked a glance at her worried face as they sped through the main street of Errin Bridge.

  ‘You know this neighbour of your mother’s?’

  Christa nodded. ‘Yes, he’s a friend really as well as being one of our patients. He’s actually had angina for a few years, but it seems to have been well under control. He and my mother have been “going out” together for a long time—he’s wonderful with Mum and such a sweet man.’ She gripped the steering-wheel tightly and said in a small voice, ‘I—I’m glad you’re here, Lachlan...’

  ‘So am I—two hands are better than one in this case.’

  ‘The truth is,’ she said bleakly, ‘this seems like a rerun of when your mother died. I was called out to someone who had collapsed at a farm in the hills, and I only knew it was Isobel when I got there. But I was too late...’

  There was silence for a minute, the words ‘too late’ seeming to hang in the air.

  Lachlan said softly, ‘We can only do our best in these situations, you know—it doesn’t always work.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ sighed Christa as she swung into the drive of her mother’s block of flats.

  * * *

  Bertie was on the floor with a cushion half-propping him up against a chair, his head had fallen to one side, his skin grey and his eyes sunken. Pat was holding his hand and stroking his forehead, her head whipping round when she
heard Christa and Lachlan come in.

  ‘Thank God,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know if he’s... It all happened so quickly—one minute we were discussing a holiday, and the next...’ Her voice trailed off miserably.

  Lachlan bent down by the stricken man and put two fingers on his carotid artery. His eyes met Christa’s and he nodded. ‘There’s still a pulse...clear signs of coronary thrombosis. Have you heparin with you? I’ll go and bring in that oxygen while you take over, Christa.’

  Bertie’s eyes fluttered open, and through purple-tinged lips he whispered, ‘It’s...it’s the pain...’

  Lachlan knew that the vice-like grip in Bertie’s chest was all the man could think of, pain coursing through his neck and chest, and an increasing sense of losing touch with the world around him. He put his face close to Bertie’s ear.

  ‘Don’t worry, Bertie—don’t try to talk. We know what’s happened to you and we’re going to sort you out. We’ll give you something for the pain.’

  His voice was crisp and authoritative, and Christa saw her mother put her hands up to her mouth, eyes wide with fright and riveted to the scene as she watched the two doctors trying to save the life of her friend.

  ‘Will...will he be all right?’ she whispered. ‘He was fine when we went for our walk—seemed as right as rain. It all happened so suddenly.’

  Christa didn’t answer. Bertie might still be alive, but his life was on a knife-edge, with the grim prospect of a full cardiac arrest. She listened to Bertie’s labouring heart through her stethoscope while she felt the weak, thready pulse on his wrist. Lachlan hooked a mask round Bertie’s face and undid a valve in the oxygen cylinder to help the patient’s breathing.

  ‘He’s bradycardic—heartbeat under sixty,’ Christa said succinctly. ‘I’m giving him one milligram of atropine to try and stabilise him and bring his heartbeat up, and five thousand units of heparin.’

  She slipped off the cover of the syringe and tested it with a small spray in the air before injecting it into the man’s arm. They watched him intently, and gradually the colour in Bertie’s face began to change from grey to pink as his labouring heart found the capacity to pump blood more efficiently around his body.