‘OK.’ Kim smiled briefly, ‘Thanks, Gem,’ she said.
‘For what?’ Gemma frowned.
‘For being there for me.’ Kim replied simply. ‘I really don’t know what I’d do without you.’
It was strange without Stephen being around and that day and the next seemed to Gemma to pass exceedingly slowly. She hadn’t really been too keen to go to Alex’s party and when the time came for her to get ready she found herself wishing she’d said she wasn’t able to go.
‘You go,’ said Jill when she voiced her reservations. ‘You might just enjoy it. What are you going to wear?’ she asked when Gemma pulled a face.
‘I don’t know. Something cool, I guess.’
The spell of hot weather still hadn’t broken and the evening, without a breath of wind, promised to be sultry. Gemma found herself going through her wardrobe, discarding garments that she knew would be totally unsuitable. At last she settled on a pair of black Capri pants, which she’d bought recently and hadn’t had occasion to wear, and a tiny top made of a silky material in a deep shade of lavender. Her hair she wore loose save for two thin strands at her temples, which she plaited and secured at the back of her head with a small diamanté clip.
When she was ready she sprayed herself with her favourite perfume, surveyed herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom and grudgingly admitted that she didn’t look bad, and that perhaps she was looking forward to the evening after all. Maybe, she thought, it would have been better if she’d been going with a partner, and just for a moment she allowed herself to wonder how it would be if she were going with Stephen, but the thought was so ludicrous that she dismissed it almost as soon as it came into her mind. She and Stephen were no longer an item and the sooner she accepted that the better.
Leaving her bedroom, she crept into Daisy’s room. The little girl was fast asleep, lying on her back with her arms above her head and her blonde hair spread out around her. Her dark lashes lay against her slightly flushed cheeks, and as Gemma stared down at her daughter she felt a surge of such fierce, protective love that she knew if she were asked to do so she would gladly lay down her own life to save her daughter. All parents shared this feeling, she guessed, and she wished she was able to tell Kim about it, but it was something that was almost impossible to explain.
Even as she watched, Daisy stirred and briefly opened her eyes. Turning her head, she stretched out one hand, found her teddy and, without even knowing that Gemma was there, returned to her slumber. In profile the curve of the little girl’s cheek reminded Gemma of Stephen and she felt a swift stab of guilt. Stephen, too, was a parent but she had denied him this overwhelming feeling of protective love.
She had been wrong, she was beginning to realise that now. But it was too late, she couldn’t tell him now.
Bending over, Gemma gently kissed her daughter on her cheek then silently moved out of the room.
‘You look lovely,’ said Jill as Gemma came downstairs. ‘Are you taking your car to this party?’
‘No, Kim’s picking me up.’ Even as Gemma spoke the doorbell sounded. ‘Here she is now.’ Moving across the hall, she opened the front door. Kim stood on the step. Dressed in a short black dress and with her hair streaked with burgundy, she looked happier than she had at work.
‘Hi, Gemma, are we ready to party?’ Kim raised her eyebrows.
‘And some.’ Gemma grinned.
‘Have a good time.’ Jill had followed Gemma into the hall and she stood now with one hand on the doorhandle. ‘And don’t worry about Daisy—she’ll be fine.’
‘Thanks, Mum. Don’t wait up—although I doubt I’ll be that late.’
‘Hello, Mrs Langford.’ Kim smiled at Jill then together she and Gemma walked down the path and out of the gate to where Kim’s car was parked.
As they drew away from the kerb Gemma waved to her mother who was still standing in the open doorway.
‘I see what you mean about your mum being supportive,’ said Kim. ‘You really are lucky, you know.’
‘I know.’ Gemma sighed. ‘My life would certainly be very different without her.’
‘Talking of parents,’ said Kim as they drove out of Kingston, heading for the river, ‘I hope Alex’s parents know what they’re letting themselves in for, allowing her to use their home for a hospital staff party.’
‘I know.’ Gemma grinned. ‘I have to agree that really is pushing parental love to the absolute limits. I wonder how many she’s invited.’
Leaving the main road, they drove through a quiet residential area for several miles before Kim took a sharp left turning into an unadopted road. ‘This is it, I think,’ she said. Catching sight of a street name almost obscured by overhanging branches, she added, ‘Yes, that’s right—Juniper Lane. Now, keep your eyes peeled, Gem, we’re looking for Florence House.’
As the car bumped down the uneven surface of the lane they passed many imposing properties, most with expensive cars parked on their drives. There were glimpses of spacious conservatories, landscaped gardens with ornamental fishponds and once, through the trees, the sparkle of water in a swimming pool.
‘There it is,’ said Gemma at last, pointing to a large house on the right-hand side. It was partly obscured from the lane by a wall and several trees and flowering shrubs. ‘If it’s on that side it must back onto the river,’ she observed as Kim drew up. ‘Heavens, look at the size of it. Alex’s parents must be pretty well off.’
‘Yes, I think they are,’ Kim agreed. ‘Her father is something in the City, I believe.’
There were several other cars parked in the drive and one or two further down the lane. ‘I think,’ said Kim, ‘I’ll park in the lane then we can make a get-away if we need to. You know what it’s like if you get wedged in on someone’s drive and you’re ready to go home but the others want to stay for breakfast.’
‘I certainly won’t want to stay for breakfast.’ Gemma pulled a face. ‘Those days are over since I had Daisy. I need all the sleep I can get.’
‘I suppose I’ve got all this to come.’ Kim pulled a face as they climbed out of the car. After collecting the two bottles of wine they had brought with them, they made their way up the drive of the large red-bricked house. Lights twinkled behind tiny panes of leaded glass, the front door stood open and music blared out onto the drive. Through the windows people could be seen standing around in little groups, talking and laughing. Alex, looking particularly stunning in leopardskin print trousers and a black micro-top, her dark hair gleaming, was crossing the hall with a bottle in one hand and a tray of nibbles in the other. ‘Hi, there!’ she exclaimed when she caught sight of Gemma and Kim. ‘Come on in. Drinks are in the kitchen—that’s through there.’ She indicated a room behind her. ‘Enjoy yourselves.’
After pouring drinks for themselves in the kitchen, the girls walked through into the main reception rooms of the house from where it could be seen that the gardens beyond did indeed run right down to the river.
‘Hi, Gemma.’
‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Hi, Kim.’
A glance around revealed that most of the staff of Denby General’s cardiac unit were already assembled in the spacious rooms. Patio doors from the sitting-room and French doors from the dining room were thrown open to the sultry summer evening. Several guests had already wandered into the garden and could be seen chatting together in groups of three or four around a large ornamental fishpond.
Further scrutiny revealed that doctors Madeleine Powell and Nigel Hart were present, Madeleine with her husband, Tom. There were also a couple of junior doctors from other units but mercifully there was no sign of any senior staff. Not that Gemma had really expected there to be, but there was always an element of uncertainty with staff parties as to who would turn up. They joined a group on the lawn, which included Mia, Pauline, Rob Bartlett—one of the unit’s porters—and charge nurse David Sykes.
There was a lot of laughter and good-natured banter and gradually as she sipped
her drink and joined in with the others Gemma felt herself relax.
‘What a fabulous place this is,’ said Mia. The others agreed, and with a little sigh she added, ‘Do you know they’ve got their own little landing-stage? Their boat is moored there.’
‘This is just the sort of place I’m going to have one day,’ said Rob as he took a mouthful of lager.
‘In your dreams, sunshine,’ replied Pauline with a sniff.
‘Well, you never know. I might win the lottery,’ said Rob.
‘And pigs might fly,’ David chipped in.
‘Who was on duty today?’ asked Mia. ‘I was off. Did Tristan come back to the ward?’
‘He did.’ Gemma nodded. ‘And he saw his match, and his team won. He was over the moon.’
‘Brave lad, that,’ said Rob, ‘I doubt if I would have had his courage in the same circumstances.’
‘It always amazes me how people do cope when faced with these life-and-death situations,’ said David. ‘It’s the most unlikely ones who seem to be the bravest, while the ones you think will cope simply go to pieces.’
The chat went on, moving from one topic to another, from hospital talk to staff gossip and intrigues. As dusk began to steal across the garden, lights concealed in the shrubbery came on one by one, suffusing the gardens in a soft, almost ethereal glow. One or two couples began dancing on the patio, which had been cleared for the purpose, and Gemma, after a long chat with Mia, made her way back into the house to refill her glass. She was surprised by the number of people who thronged the house and found herself wondering where Alex had found them all. There were many she didn’t even recognise and she suspected that, far from it being solely a party for hospital staff, other guests had also been invited.
She fought her way back through the crush of people into the sitting-room then stood in the open doorway that led to the patio, watching the couples dancing to music from a stereo system. The tempo of the music had just changed from the lively boy-band variety to a sensual, smoochy number. Several more couples invaded the patio.
Gemma turned away and it was as she did so that she sensed someone was watching her across the sitting-room. Slowly she turned her head and even before her eyes met those of the man on the far side of the room she was assailed by an uncanny sensation of déjà vu and knew exactly who it was going to be. This had happened to her before, in another time and another place, but at a party such as this. She had looked across a crowded room and her eyes had met those of a man. The only difference then had been that she hadn’t known him. This time she knew him only too well. He was standing by the fireplace, a glass in his hand. He was wearing a dark green shirt and black trousers; the other time his shirt had been red. Previously he had asked her to dance and thus had started the affair that was to change her life. He had quite literally strolled into her world and turned it upside down then had moved on, leaving her to pick up the pieces.
This time it would be different. This was where the similarity ended because this time she was forewarned and she would never let it happen again. This time he probably wouldn’t even ask her to dance, let alone ask her out, or make love to her, or take over her life, only to walk away, leaving her with his child.
As if mesmerised, Gemma watched helplessly as, without taking his gaze from hers, Stephen put his glass on the mantelpiece and walked towards her. When he reached her, without a word, he took her own glass and set it down on a low coffee-table before taking her hand and leading her out onto the patio where he drew her into his arms.
CHAPTER SIX
IT FELT like coming home after a long time away, and as Stephen enfolded her in his arms, with a little sigh Gemma rested her head on his shoulder. They were oblivious to those around them as the months and years spent apart simply slipped away.
‘Wasn’t this where we came in?’ murmured Stephen at last against her hair. ‘At a party all that time ago?’
‘It was,’ Gemma agreed.
Standing back but still holding her, he lowered his head and they gazed into each other’s eyes. ‘So what happened in between?’ he asked.
‘You went away.’ She spoke softly, and from the way he leaned towards her she knew he had difficulty hearing her against the music.
‘Yes,’ he agreed at last as he realised what she’d said. ‘I did, and now I wish to hell I hadn’t, but at the time I thought what we had would survive a parting. Obviously I was wrong.’
They were silent for a time moving gently to the music. ‘So why didn’t you reply to my letters?’ he suddenly asked.
‘Letters?’ She frowned. ‘I only received one.’
‘I wrote several…’
She gave a little shrug. ‘They must have gone to the flat after I’d left.’
‘But what about the one you did get—why didn’t you answer that?’
‘I told you, Stephen, everything changed for me at that time. My father died, I moved down here to London…’
‘That still doesn’t explain why you cut me out of your life.’
‘You’d moved on. You had a new life, and so…so did I. It seemed the sensible thing to do.’
He drew her back into his arms. ‘I missed you, Gemma,’ he murmured, holding her close. ‘I still can’t believe how much I missed you.’ He paused for a long moment as if waiting for her to say something. ‘Did you miss me?’ he asked softly when she remained silent. ‘Just a tiny bit maybe?’
‘Yes, Stephen,’ she admitted with a smile, ‘of course I missed you. How could I not have missed you after what we’d shared together?’
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ He drew her closer. ‘I was beginning to think I’d made so little impression on you that you’d been able to let me go without a second thought.’
Oh, Stephen, if only you knew, thought Gemma as she clung to him. ‘I didn’t think I would ever see you again,’ she said at last, ‘so I suppose I thought the best thing I could do was to put you out of my mind and get over you.’
‘And did you?’ he asked innocently. ‘Get over me, I mean?’
‘I thought I had,’ Gemma replied slowly. ‘I thought I’d made a pretty good job of it in actual fact—at least, while you weren’t around.’
‘And what about now?’ His arms tightened around her. ‘What about right now at this moment while we’re together here like this? Can you honestly say that you’re over me now?’
‘Stephen, that’s not fair,’ Gemma protested.
He gave a low chuckle and allowed his lips to brush her cheek.
‘I didn’t think you would be here,’ she said after a while in a determined effort to change the subject.
‘Why should you think that?’ He sounded faintly surprised.
‘It’s pretty unusual for registrars or consultants to attend this kind of staff party.’
‘Well, I can’t speak for Bjorn—although I doubt whether he’ll be here—but I was quite happy to say I’d come when Alex asked me.’ He paused. ‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have come if you’d known I was going to be here?’
‘Of course not. Why should you think that?’ She spoke lightly but she couldn’t help wondering what Stephen would say if he knew how close to the truth he was. She probably wouldn’t have come if she’d known he was going to be there. Perversely, hadn’t she been disappointed in the last two days when he hadn’t been around, and just now, when her eyes had met his, hadn’t her heart leapt with pleasure?
‘I don’t know,’ Stephen replied in answer to her question. ‘I just feel that you’ve been avoiding me since I came to Denby.’
‘Avoiding you?’ she said weakly. ‘Why on earth would I want to avoid you?’
‘I don’t know, Gemma.’
They were silent again and all she could think about was how good it felt to be so close to him again, to feel the strength of his arms around her, the slight roughness of his cheek against her own and the steady beating of his heart through the thin fabric of his shirt. And then, just when she was thinking that she could h
appily stay like that for ever, the music ended and the tempo changed yet again, this time to an upbeat vintage Rolling Stones number.
‘Come on.’ Taking her hand, Stephen led her from the patio, not back into the house but onto the terrace and down a short flight of steps into the garden. ‘Let’s walk for a while.’
Together they crossed the velvety lawns that led away from the house and down to the riverbank. They walked in silence but Stephen didn’t let go of her hand. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, as if everyone in the house could see them, Gemma glanced back but by this time twilight was rapidly descending and the house was a blaze of lights, and to anyone on the terrace they would have been barely distinguishable.
The night was still and sultry without so much as a breath of wind to stir the leaves or branches of the shrubs and trees that bordered the lawns, and as the sound of Mick Jagger complaining about not getting any satisfaction faded into the distance the only sounds to be heard were the occasional rustling of some small nocturnal animal and the muted noises of craft on the river.
‘How did your course go?’ Gemma broke the silence at last, glancing up at Stephen as they walked, their feet making no sound on the soft grass beneath them.
‘How did you know I’d been on a course?’ he replied curiously.
‘One of the patients asked where you were and Mr Van Haelfen told him that you’d gone on a course at another hospital.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Stephen smiled. ‘It was actually Bjorn’s idea that I should go,’ he said. ‘I’d been finding some of the procedures at Denby very different from those at the Dubai hospital. I wasn’t too sure that the course would help.’
‘And did it?’ she asked.
‘I have to say that, yes, it did,’ he admitted. By this time they had reached a short pathway that led right down to the riverbank. There were several craft on the river, lighted cabin cruisers and a couple of barges that drifted gently downstream.
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