He started for the door, then turned back.
“But don’t they let parents stay over?”
“Sometimes,” she said.
He slipped into the ward, explained to the nurse at the desk who he was and she said he could see Georgie for a couple of minutes.
“You must be Bram,” she said. “Josie rang ahead and said you were on your way up.”
His heart leapt as soon as she saw her. She was out of bed and sitting on the bed of the child next to her. She wore the cutest shortie pyjamas and her long dark hair was in two plaits. She kept flicking at the plaits, knocking them over her shoulder.
“Georgie,” he said as he approached the bed and her name almost stuck in his throat. She really was a lovely kid. “I don’t know if you remember…”
“You’re Bram,” she said. “You saved me. Mummy said you were a hero!”
“Oh,” he said, pleased. A hero? He’d felt more like Mr Bean, falling over the cliff after the rescue had taken place.
He handed her the balloon and the toy.
“Oh, wow, thank you,” she said and cuddled the toy dog up tight with her good arm. “I’ll call him Lucky because I was lucky wasn’t I?”
Her smile dimmed a little, then she shook away any bad thoughts she might have had and the smile returned, brighter than ever. She reminded him of a certain other young lady. Regan had always been good at doing that, blocking out the bad stuff. But it came to the point where she couldn’t block it out any more and all the fear she’d been hiding bubbled to the surface and overwhelmed her.
And what had he done? Instead of holding her close and chasing her fears away, he’d turned his back on her, swamped by fears of his own.
“I just came to say hello,” he said. Without all the blood, he could see just how pretty she was with her big beautiful blue eyes and her dark hair. A pretty little girl who would grow into a stunning woman. A real heartbreaker.
“Thank you,” she said. “You just missed my mum. She only left a little while ago. She was going to stay and sleep in the recliner chair, but Sister Judith said she’d got to go home and get some proper rest and I didn’t mind.”
“That was very brave of you. I expect you’ll be going home soon.”
“I’m not brave,” Georgie said and her eyes welled with tears. The other little girl reached out and rubbed her arm and Georgie mustered a smile and looked at Bram. “I like it here.”
“You’ve been in hospital before?”
“Lots of times,” Georgie said. “I think I’m going home tomorrow.”
“That’s good. Don’t forget, when you’re better you’re to come down to the lifeboat station and you can have a look round, okay?”
“Can I go on the boat?”
“I’m sure you can,” he laughed.
Her smile lit up her face, but suddenly it went and she shivered. Poor little kid. She was walking a tightrope, trying desperately not to fall into a well of grief.
“You all right, Georgie?”
She nodded. Her eyes had gone huge and her lip trembled.
“Her best friend died,” the other little girl said. “She keeps crying.”
“Okay,” the nurse who had been keeping an eye on them said as she came over. “Visiting is over. We need to get these children settled for the night. Thanks for coming in. Oh, Georgie, are you crying again? Come here, sweetie.”
She picked her up and carried her back to her own bed. Bram said goodbye and slipped away. Regan was watching the door when he came out.
“How was she?”
“Upset. She’s right on the edge, poor little kid.”
“Was she crying again?”
“Yeah. The nurse was giving her a cuddle. She’ll be exhausted on top of everything else.”
Regan got up and almost trance like headed for the door back into the ward.
“Where are you going?” he said. “The nurse said she’s about to settle them down for the night.”
Still Regan looked in before moving away, then the door opened and the nurse came out. She glanced at Bram, then grabbed Regan’s arm and steered her away. Regan rubbed her eyes and nodded, then the nurse hugged her and returned to the ward.
What was all that about? He had the oddest feeling… but no. His feelings had never been very reliable, especially when it came to Regan.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll give you a lift home.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, rather too quickly.
“Why not? What are you afraid of, Regan?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then stop being so stubborn and accept a lift. You need a decent night’s sleep in your own bed. I have my car, what’s to stop you? You don’t hate me that much, do you?”
“You know I don’t. Stop fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not looking for compliments and I don’t want you to say you love me or anything daft like that. I just want to give you a lift home.”
Regan’s mouth felt dry. She’d cried so much today that it felt as if every last bit of moisture had been squeezed from her body. And now here was Bram, with his big strong body into which she would love to nestle, offering her a lift home.
But she couldn’t accept. He’d find out where she lived. It had been a close thing earlier on and she knew he’d have to find out eventually, but not yet and certainly not tonight.
She would tell him the truth, she had to, but it had to be when they were both wide awake and not feeling fragile and emotional.
“I can’t go home,” she said. “I… it’s…”
Think, think, she told herself. Come up with something he’s going to believe. He was watching her, waiting. She pushed her hair away from her face, aware she looked a complete mess.
“Complicated?” he said. “Yeah, I get it.”
He grabbed her wrist and gently pushed back her sleeve exposing one of her many grazes.
“You haven’t had your cuts seen to,” he said. “Why not, Regan? After the way you lectured me about not taking care of myself.”
He got to his feet and held out his hand.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you down to A&E. Josie’s on duty. She’ll patch you up.”
“Josie? Have you seen her?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “I asked her for your address, but she refused to give it to me.”
She smiled. Good old Josie. Then her smile wobbled.
“Did she say anything?”
“Like what?”
Of course she didn’t. If she had, Bram wouldn’t be standing here as calm as you like offering to give her a lift home. He’d be pacing up and down, demanding to know why she hadn’t told him he was a father.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “But I don’t want to go to A&E. There’s no need. It’s just a few scratches.”
“That need cleaning,” he said. “All right, if you won’t go home and you won’t let anyone here take care of you, come home with me.”
She laughed. “What?”
“You heard. I’m living in the flat over the surgery. You can come back, meet my dogs and I’ll practise my first aid skills on you.”
“First aid skills,” she laughed. That was something of an understatement. And he certainly didn’t need practise with all his experience and qualifications.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded. If she agreed to go back to his place, she could walk home from there – she would insist upon it, and he would remain in the dark about where she lived. It was all downhill from the surgery to Coastguard Cottages. She could do it in her sleep – and probably would.
He helped her to her feet, took her hand and slipped it thought his arm.
“Lean on me,” he said. “It’s what I’m here for.”
“Don’t read anything into this, Bram,” she warned him. “To be honest I’m too tired to argue the toss and it’s easier to go along with you than not.”
“Pity you didn’t feel that way six years ago,�
� he said, but he was smiling. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Regan. That came out wrong. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it? Anyway,” she said as they went down in the lift. “You had a lucky escape. If we hadn’t split up when we did, we’d be an old married couple by now.”
“And the problem with that is?”
She didn’t have an answer.
“So where have you been for six years?”
“Here and there,” he said. “Locum work mainly. To be honest, I didn’t plan to come back, but when Dennis told me he was selling up, it was too good an opportunity to miss. The time I was here was the happiest of my life. I guess I wanted to try and recapture some of that feeling.”
“And have you?”
He stopped and looked down at her.
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. So what about you? Have you been here all the time?”
“Yup.”
“Not been tempted to marry some handsome doctor?”
“Nope.”
She almost said vets were more to her liking, but if that didn’t sound like an invitation, she didn’t know what did, so she smiled instead.
When they got to the car, he held the door open for her and offered to fasten her seatbelt.
“I’m not helpless,” she said, cursing herself for being so sharp. He was only trying to help. This was Bram all over. The good side of him. Thoughtful, considerate, kind. She had been such a fool to send him away.
Not only had she denied herself the love of her life, for no man would ever, could ever fill the gap Bram left behind, but she’d denied her daughter the love of a wonderful father and the possibility of brothers and sisters.
CHAPTER EIGHT
An assortment of dogs greeted them when they arrived at the big apartment over the surgery. Regan was overwhelmed. She loved dogs and would have a houseful herself if she could. But Bram always used to say he’d wait until he had a proper home and a family before he had any pets.
So what had changed?
“Where did they all come from?” she asked as she struggled to make sure each and every one got a stroke. “They’re all lovely.”
“Lovely, yes,” he said thoughtfully. “They were all on death row at one time or another for various reasons.”
She spotted the cats who were watching the dogs making fools of themselves and went to tickle their ears.
“This doesn’t surprise me, Bram. You always said you’d like a house full of dogs, cats and kids.” Oops, she hadn’t meant to mention kids. It was tactless in the extreme considering what she had to tell him. “But I thought you were going to wait? And where’s the border collie you always said you’d have once you settled down?”
He laughed. “I haven’t got round to that yet. I’ve had Pixie and Barney longest. They’re ex-racing greyhounds. Then I got George, the little staffy. Fern is a staffy cross and that little spaniel cross is called Regan.”
The spaniel had chocolate curls and large brown eyes.
“You’re kidding! You called your dog after me?” Regan said. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Well look at her! Same colour hair, same big, sad eyes. Besides, she didn’t have a name when I got her. She was a breeding bitch from a puppy farm who’d outlived her usefulness and she was half dead when I took her in. She’s a plucky little thing though. A real fighter. I call her Rags for short.”
As soon as Regan sat down, Rags jumped onto her lap and rested her head on Regan’s chest, gazing up at her. Poor little thing must have been so completely starved of affection, she was making up for it now.
“I hate puppy farms,” Regan said vehemently.
“So do I,” Bram said. “The one where Rags was kept prisoner – because it is like being in prison, probably worse – was shut down. We managed to find homes for all the dogs.”
“That’s so lovely, that you found them homes I mean.”
“I was living in a camper van,” Bram went on. “You might have seen it parked out the back. It was another reason for taking over this place. We were running out of room.”
Regan laughed.
“I should think you were.”
“I’m going to run you a bath and leave you to soak while I get us something to eat,” he said.
“There’s no need…”
“Stop turning down help when it’s offered. This is how it’s going to be, Regan. You’re going to have a bath and get all those cuts and grazes clean. I am going to dress them and then we are going to sit down and eat a meal together. After that I’ll take you home… if you still want to go.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. A soak in the bath would be wonderful and very welcome. But of course she would still want to go. She could fight with him about walking home later on. She smelled of the beach and while that smell was there to remind her, her thoughts constantly returned to little Jay.
“Stop torturing yourself,” Bram said, jerking her out of her thoughts. “I can see it on your face. I know you’re not going to forget about what happened, but going over and over it won’t change anything.”
The dogs, as all dogs do, sensed that she was upset and had piled up around her on the sofa and on her feet. She was absent mindedly stroking them. One of the cats had appeared on the back of the sofa behind her and was gently patting her head with a soft little paw. Trust Bram to have such kind animals!
“I’ll get that bath going and leave you to your love in,” Bram said with a grin.
He left her and went across to the bathroom, pulling fresh towels from the airing cupboard and searching for something to put in the bath, something not too masculine.
He found a herby muscle soak and poured it under the taps. He recalled how she used to relax in the bath with a glass of wine and scented candles. He hadn’t got any fancy candles, but he did have a few bottles of decent wine.
“Regan Tyler is here, in my flat,” he said out loud and with a degree of incredulity. That was something he wouldn’t have thought possible. Of course, he’d hoped when he came back that he would see her. But the circumstances that had brought them together were unbearably tragic. But tragedy should bring people together, not drive them apart. He’d let it drive a wedge between them before, but it wasn’t going to happen this time.
When the bath was ready, a glass of wine poured and waiting for her, he returned to the living room and found her asleep.
She looked so beautiful. He stroked her cheek gently with his finger. What he wouldn’t do to have her back. She stirred when he touched her and a small smile crossed her face.
“Come on, you lot,” he said. “Give the lady some space.” He shifted the dogs, then gently shook Regan’s shoulder. She winced as she woke with a start.
“Sore shoulder?”
“Sore everything,” she said sleepily and she stretched like a happy cat.
“Bath’s ready.”
“That was quick.” She blinked as she looked around. “Did I fall asleep?”
“You did.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. Glass of wine with your bath?”
“That would be lovely, but probably incredibly silly on an empty stomach.”
It was almost like old times, except this time he wouldn’t join her in the bath or massage her aching shoulders.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any candles, but the light in the bathroom is quite dim.”
“Philistine,” she laughed. He always used to tease her about her candles. He’d come home to find she’d cooked a romantic dinner and the minute he saw candles on the table he’d say, “Oh, power cut?” It always made her laugh, and then he’d pull her into his arms and tell her how wonderful she was…
“Do you need any help?”
She gave him a look, half amused, half exasperated.
“It’s a bath, Bram,” she said. “I think I can just about manage.”
“If you need help, just shout. If you feel dizzy or a
nything I can give you a hand and I promise I’ll keep my eyes shut. I’ll go and make a start on dinner.”
“Spag bol?” she asked.
“How did you guess?”
She laughed again. It was his signature dish and he always used a jar of sauce. It was the one thing he could make without it all going horribly wrong.
She looked round the bathroom and saw a glass of wine standing on the side. “Really, I shouldn’t,” she said, but she took a sip. “Oh, I needed that.”
Bram had the meal well underway when he heard Rags whining out in the hall. She was outside the bathroom door.
“Come on, Rags,” he said. “Leave her alone. She’s taking a bath.”
But the dog was insistent and kept clawing at the bottom of the door. In fact she was getting very agitated, almost as if she wanted to dig her way under the door.
“What’s up, girl? Are you missing your new best friend?”
Rags looked up at him and backed up from the door, then went forward and began to paw it again.
“Okay,” he said, ruffling her ears. “I’ll knock. Stop worrying.”
He rapped his knuckles on the door and waited for Regan to reply.
“Regan, you all right in there, honey?”
No answer. He knocked louder. There was no lock on the door, but he hesitated. He could hardly go bursting in on her. She’d kill him – or throw something at him! She wouldn’t be pleased, he knew that.
“Regan,” he shouted and Rags began to bark. The other dogs came to see what all the fuss was about, but still there was no answer from the bathroom.
“I’m coming in,” he called and he pushed the door open, covering his eyes with his hand while he waited for her outraged scream. But no sound came and as he took his hand down, he realised she’d fallen asleep again, head back, hair trailing. Her modesty was intact as she was hidden by bubbles and the wine glass was on its side on the floor, some of the contents spilled.
“Regan,” he shook her shoulder. She felt cold. He couldn’t leave her there. “Oh, hell.”
Dangerous Love Page 8
