‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ She stood up and walked over to the window, looking out in the darkness in the direction of the sea. ‘I’ve barely met him. He isn’t even slightly interested.’
‘So why was he looking at you like that at lunchtime?’
Tricia’s head whipped round. ‘Like what?’
‘Like he was the cat and you were a particularly inviting dollop of thick, fresh cream.’
‘You’re disgusting.’
‘I’m honest.’
‘I’m sure you’re exaggerating.’
Linsey smiled and played her trump card. ‘Even Matthew noticed.’
Tricia turned back to the window. He had really been looking at her like that? Her heart thumped and raced. ‘Oh,’ she said softly. ‘How complicating.’
‘Why—because you’re going to have to get off the fence and deal with it?’
Tricia stared out at the night. ‘Linsey, I can’t,’ she said after an age.
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not like that. I can’t just scratch my itches. It has to mean something.’
Linsey hesitated for a moment. ‘Does it have to be mutual?’
‘You mean if I fell for him big time and he just fancied me as a bit on the side? I’m not that much of a masochist.’
Linsey chewed her lip. ‘He’s lonely. Apart from the people at work the only female companionship he has is the old lady next door who sleeps in when he’s on call and his little girls. Someone needs to drag him kicking and screaming back to life, Tricia. I was just hoping it could be you, and that you’d find a little happiness with him too.’
Tricia shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Nice try, though. If I’d been blind and deaf I might not have noticed.’
Linsey flushed. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t really trying to manipulate you—I just love you both, and seeing you both alone and unhappy—’
‘I’m not unhappy!’
‘But Rhys is.’
Tricia curled up in the armchair and dropped her chin onto her fist. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘I know he is.’
‘And the kids are.’
Tricia snorted. ‘Now that’s taking it too far. The kids are fine.’
‘No.’ Linsey shook her head. ‘No, Mark isn’t, and sometimes Emmy is very clingy and weepy. They feel abandoned. Bibby’s all right, but she was very young when Judy walked out—only ten months.’
Tricia nibbled her lip thoughtfully. ‘How could anyone do that—leave three children and just walk off without a word?’
‘How could anyone have a husband as warm and generous as Rhys and sleep around the way she did? She was a bitch, that’s how. A real, grade A, first-class bitch.’
‘He married her.’
‘She was pregnant.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh. He’s so kind, so decent and generous and funny and—oh, I don’t know, just so lovely. It wouldn’t occur to him to do anything other than marry a woman who was pregnant with his child.’
Tricia rolled her eyes. ‘Are we talking about the same man?’
Linsey chuckled. ‘I know—but he is like that—or he was. He just forgets sometimes.’
‘Traumatic amnesia, I expect,’ Tricia said with a chuckle. ‘That’s a terrible burden to carry around, all that virtue.’
Linsey didn’t smile this time. She just shook her head. ‘He’s buried it, along with all his finer feelings. Anything personal, anything to do with women he’s just cut himself off from. He hasn’t had a relationship with anyone since Judy went, and it’s two years now—two years on Thursday. She walked out on the first of August, just to make it memorable. My first day, your first day and Judy’s last.’
‘How symbolic.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Tricia said drily. ‘So, there hasn’t been anyone that you know of?’
‘There hasn’t been anyone, period. This is a small town—you can’t keep secrets here. He had nanny trouble at first—she fancied him and thought she could make herself indispensable. He kicked her out after he found her waiting for him in bed one night when he came back from a call.’
‘Oops.’
‘I’ll say. Then he got a cleaning lady from an agency and she was all over him like a rash—she lasted about two weeks.’
‘But he’s got a cleaning lady now,’ Tricia said, puzzled.
‘Yes—the current one is in her fifties and very much married, and his neighbour who sleeps in when he’s on call is in her seventies, six times a grandmother, and absolutely dotes on him.’
‘Doesn’t he feel threatened by her?’
Linsey chuckled. ‘No—not at all. He allows her to help because the poor old dear’s so lonely. She helps him out because she feels “so sorry for him all on his own, poor lamb” -and I quote.’
They both chuckled.
‘So what about when he’s at work in the day?’ Tricia asked, despising her curiosity.
‘The children go to school or a registered child-minder and it’s all very official and above board.’
‘No sexy little au pairs?’
Linsey shook her head. ‘Nothing. Not even a drink in a pub or a walk on the beach. His personal life starts and ends with his family. Apparently it always has, only now there isn’t a woman as part of that family.’
Tricia studied her fingers. ‘That’s really sad devoting yourself like that to the exclusion of your own needs.’
She was conscious of Linsey’s eyes on her. ‘I think it’s admirable,’ her friend said.
‘Do you? I just wonder how he feels at night, when the kids are asleep and he’s all alone. What is there for him? No adult companionship, no warmth and laughter—no sharing and caring.’
‘Speaking from experience?’ Linsey said softly.
Tricia lifted her head and met Linsey’s eyes. ‘Yes—in a word.’
‘Oh, Tricia.’ Linsey hoisted herself out of the chair and came over, kneeling awkwardly at her feet and wrapping her in a hug. ‘I’m sorry. Is it really so lonely for you now?’
Tricia lifted a hand and smoothed her friend’s beautiful, satiny hair. ‘I’ll cope,’ she said, and didn’t hear the mournful note in her voice. ‘At least I can go out and find companionship without having to organise a babysitter.’
Linsey sat back on her heels and searched Tricia’s eyes worriedly. ‘Have you really been OK since I defected?’
Tricia smiled wistfully. ‘Defected? You mean found a life of your own and left my flat in peace? Yeah, I’ve been OK, kiddo. It’s just—well, I don’t know. I’m getting a bit long in the tooth now, you know? Life’s passing me by. Everyone else seems to be married or pregnant or both, and it’s getting a bit dusty and lonely up here on the shelf.’
Just then they heard a voice calling from below, and Linsey got to her feet. ‘Matthew’s ready—I’d better dash. Come over and spend some time with us if you’re fed up.’
Tricia forced a smile. ‘I will, thanks,’ she lied, knowing full well that she wouldn’t take advantage of the offer. They didn’t need her hanging around; they had their own lives.
Linsey paused at the top of the stairs. ‘Promise me something,’ she said in parting. ‘Give Rhys a chance. Don’t shut your mind to him. You never know, if you could only get to know each other—’
‘Linsey!’
‘Coming!’
She bent forward and hugged Tricia again. ‘It’s really great to have you around. I’ve missed you—I really have.’
Tricia’s eyes misted up. ‘I’ve missed you too. You’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She watched her friend descend the stairs, stepping off the bottom into her husband’s arms, then turned away.
There was a dull ache in the centre of her chest, and she hugged her arms round it and wandered into the kitchen. It didn’t seem worth cooking anything just for one, she thought dismally. Perhaps it was time to see the town—she could eat out somewhere, go to the cinema, perhaps.
> She parked near the promenade, found out that she had seen both films showing at the local cinema and decided to look for somewhere to eat. She ended up with fish and chips on the beach, because there was something so final and so lonely about going into a restaurant alone. So she sat there, staring out over the water, and lectured herself for wallowing in self-pity.
‘If you had three kids like Rhys you’d have something to be self-pitying about,’ she told herself, but she didn’t believe it. At least he wasn’t ever really alone.
And on that miserable and wretched note she took herself home and went to bed with a book.
CHAPTER THREE
‘You again?’
Linsey laughed, followed her head round the door and perched on the patients’ chair. ‘Sorry. Can’t keep away. How’s it going?’
Tricia smiled. ‘Great. I’m really getting into it. The rest of the staff are a nice bunch.’
‘They’ll do. The chap next to you is a bit dodgy.’
Tricia cast a glance at the wall that divided her consulting room from Matthew’s and nodded sagely. ‘My thoughts exactly. Mind you, his wife’s a bit weird too.’
‘Oh, absolutely. Very odd. Actually, it was his wife I wanted to see you about.’
‘Really?’ Tricia settled herself back in the chair and studied her friend. ‘What about his wife?’
‘Well, it seems she’s bored and lonely and wants to interfere with the person who’s taken over her job for her maternity leave.’
‘Amazing,’ Tricia said drily. ‘And what do you suppose I might do to alleviate that boredom?’
‘Come for supper.’
Tricia chuckled. ‘That’s all? I thought you wanted me to leave and come back only when you could see the baby’s head!’
Linsey’s smile was soft. ‘Hardly. I am enjoying having time to myself—I just don’t want too much time. How about tomorrow night?’
‘That would be lovely. I’ll look forward to it.’
She would, Tricia realised. The week so far had gone slowly, and today, her first day alone, had been busy but was now ending. Suddenly she was discovering that she wasn’t, after all, that fond of her own company.
She’d never had time to herself in her life, and had thought it would be wonderful. Two years ago Linsey had moved out of the flat they’d shared, but she had been replaced out of financial necessity and the girl who had joined her had never really been a friend, and anyway had a hectic social life that often spilled over into the flat and cramped Tricia even more. That had been an irritation. Now, perversely, she almost longed for it.
However, it wasn’t possible to turn clocks back or freeze time. She was here, now, and an invitation from Linsey and Matthew was like a gift from the gods.
After a few more minutes of good-natured interference Linsey left, a promise extracted from Tricia that she wouldn’t fail to turn up, and, after clearing up her consulting room and sorting out her notes for the morning, Tricia made her way to the back of the house and the stairs to her floor.
On the way she passed the kitchen, and found Rhys there, slumped at the table, staring blindly into a cup of cold coffee.
‘Hi,’ she said.
He lifted his eyes and acknowledged her presence with a fleeting parody of a smile.
Lord, he looked grim. Conscious of the date and the anniversary he was clearly dwelling on, Tricia pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. ‘Busy day?’ she asked conversationally.
‘So-so. It gets worse. I’m on duty here until midnight, then I go home and wait to be woken.’
‘You look thrilled.’
He gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘Part of the fun and games of general practice. I hate night duty.’
She got up again and refilled his coffee-mug with fresh, made herself a cup of tea, then sat down again, one foot tucked under her bottom. ‘So we run a surgery here every night? I thought there’d been a lot of coming and going in the evening.’
He nodded. ‘Yes—and then one night a fortnight we cover the hospital too. This is fairly new, though—Linsey’s idea. One of us mans it every night—some lucky devil gets two nights, another gets a night and the weekend, and two of us only get one night. It’s rotated to dull the pain, and getting the patients to come here until midnight has cut down on the number of calls during the small hours dramatically. However, it’s still a bind.’
She sipped her tea, nodding. Night duty was never a doctor’s favourite job and many GPs farmed it out. She asked Rhys why this practice didn’t.
‘Continuity of care. We want to keep our patients to ourselves—and we don’t want to pay someone else to do the cover, but continuity is the main reason. Linsey, especially, is fanatical about it.’
Tricia grinned. ‘I had noticed. She won’t leave me alone.’
He laughed softly. ‘No. I didn’t suppose she would. Once the baby’s born I don’t think you’ll see her for dust, because she’ll focus her attention on it and everything else will go to pieces before she notices.’
It was so accurate a description of her old flatmate that Tricia chuckled. ‘Sounds like my chum,’ she said with a smile. ‘Single-minded to the exclusion of common sense.’
‘It makes her a good doctor.’
‘I’m sure.’ She swirled her tea and then looked up at Rhys. ‘So, what makes you a good doctor?’
He chuckled. ‘Am I?’
‘Rumour has it.’
The slight heat that brushed his neck fascinated her. ‘I would argue the point that I succeed, but I aim to be one. What makes me good—if I am? The same sort of thing, I suppose—single-minded focus on the job.’ His smile was bitter. ‘It cost me my marriage, of course, but what the hell? It wasn’t worth having anyway, by all accounts.’
Tricia was a little shocked by his sudden switch to the very personal topic. She sat quietly, waiting for more, and she wasn’t mistaken in doing so.
‘It was going on for months, you know. I could have coped with knowing that, but it was the fact that while the children were at the child-minder she was taking her lovers back to our house, to our bed, and then at night I was going home and getting into the same goddamn sheets—’
He broke off, clearly still very upset by the callous betrayal, and Tricia could have wept for him.
‘When she left I took every item of linen down the garden and burned it—every last sheet or towel that one of her lovers might have touched. I know it was childish and futile, but I felt so—contaminated. Raped. Defiled.’
Tricia didn’t know what to say, how to stern the flow of painful reminiscence, or even if she should stern it. Perhaps he needed to let it out, as some kind of catharsis to clear his mind and let him move on.
“Those poor kids. Even now, two years later, they still don’t understand how she could have left them. What do I say, Tricia? Sorry, kids, she had a better offer?’
His eyes were lost, desolate with his children’s suffering. She shrugged helplessly. ‘Perhaps that’s all you can say. Perhaps you can only be honest with them.’
‘But I don’t want them to have to grow up thinking of their mother as a faithless whore—!’ He broke off, his fist curled round the mug so that his knuckles stood out white against his dark hand.
‘I’ve tried so hard to help them understand that sometimes people fall out of love and end up hurting each other, even though they don’t mean to, but the trouble is that they can’t understand what they’ve done wrong to make her leave them. They feel betrayed—and so, damn it, do I.’
He drained his coffee and set it down with exaggerated care. She noticed that there was a slight tremor in his hand.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve got no right to unburden on you.’
She grinned ruefully. ‘Feel free. I’ve got nothing else to do—in fact, have you eaten?’
‘Eaten?’ he said, as if she’d asked him if he’d swum naked in the sea at midday.
‘Yes—you know, food?’
His smile was weary but there. ‘N
o, I haven’t eaten.’
‘Then why don’t you come up and let me make you a sandwich or something? You could nip down then to a patient if you have to, and then come back up and finish off. Nothing fancy, but it’ll be a long night without refuelling. You can tell me a bit more about the practice.’
He studied her for a moment and at first she thought he was going to refuse. In fact, she was sure he would, and then she saw the resolution fade from his eyes and he nodded. ‘Thank you; that would be very kind.’
She laughed. ‘Rubbish. It’s entirely self-interest—I want to make sure I do everything right so Linsey hasn’t got any excuse to hover!’
He chuckled. ‘I’m not sure I can tell you enough to make that possible. She’s like a terrier with a rat. Prising her away from her patients will be a lost cause, I’m afraid.’
Tricia stood up. ‘I’ll do it if I have to die in the attempt,’ she told him. ‘Coming?’
He slid back his chair and unfolded, and she was suddenly, almost stunningly aware of his physical presence. He really was very, very big, she thought in amazement, and yet it didn’t occur to her for a moment to be afraid of him. After all, she’d seen those huge hands cradle his children. There was nothing about Rhys Williams to fear. He would never hurt her—or at least not physically.
His ability to damage her emotionally was rather more of an issue, she realised. She’d have to watch herself. This was one lame duck she couldn’t afford to take under her wing, regardless of Linsey’s pleadings, because there was something about the sad and lonely man whom she was beginning to catch glimpses of that had the power to destroy her.
Regretting her impulsive invitation, she led the way up to her flat, made a stack of cheese and tomato sandwiches and a pot of tea and, in between patients, interrogated him about the practice.
She learned that they ran clinics for asthma, blood pressure, diabetes, stress management and umpteen other things, plus well-person checks, antenatal classes, the gastro-intestinal screening programme at the hospital and, in addition, the usual twice-daily surgeries.
She also learned that he had the most expressive and beautiful eyes that she had ever seen, that his mouth was firm and mobile and she loved to watch it as he talked, that his voice was deep and rough and gravelly and teased her libido like a lover’s caress, that he waved his hands as he spoke to illustrate his words and she found herself longing for the touch of them against her skin, and that any futile attempt to steel herself against this attraction was a complete waste of effort, because in the occasional moments when she had been with him in the past few days he had stolen her heart lock, stock and barrel.
The Ideal Choice Page 4
