by Anne Fraser
‘You are welcome.’ Julie replied. ‘And we’ll do it again if there’s more snow before spring.’ So much for bringing Caroline and Pierre closer together, Julie thought ruefully. Now it seemed they were back where they had started, circling each other like two wary tigers. What on earth was really going on between them?
The journey back to Edinburgh that night was a subdued affair. Once again Caroline plugged herself into her headphones, making it clear she had no wish to speak to her uncle. The snow was falling so heavily it made driving even more difficult than on the way up. Julie knew they had left just in time—they were bound to close the road behind them soon. She switched on the radio, finding the classical music station she preferred, and let the music wash over her. Sliding a glance at the man seated beside her, she could barely recall the laughing man of the snow fight.
He must have felt her eyes on him as he turned and gave her a sheepish look. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not being very good company.’ Julie glanced behind her. Caroline was still engrossed in her music.
‘She was only trying to show you what she could do. I think she wants you to be proud of her.’
‘I know,’ Pierre admitted. ‘It was just, for a moment there, I thought the worst. She frightened me almost to death.’
‘Then you should explain. She’ll understand.’
‘I know. And I will.’ He drew his hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘I never thought it would be so difficult to have responsibility for someone else. I’m used to responsibility, God knows, with work, the vineyards. But not for people. Except my patients, of course.’ He looked at Julie and his face relaxed for the first time since Caroline had gone missing. ‘But you, you are very good with people. It’s what makes you a fine doctor.’
‘Why, thank you, Dr Favatier,’ Julie said lightly, but she couldn’t help feeling pleased.
They drove on for a few minutes in silence. They were coming to the edge of the city. Half an hour at the most and they’d be home. Julie’s thoughts drifted to the day they’d spent together. She had enjoyed herself, she realised. Pierre, except for the last incident, had been easy company. More than that, she admitted. Remembering the feel of his arms around her, the long length of his body under hers, when they’d had the snow fight, her spine tingled. She had wanted to stay there for ever. Hopeless though it was, she knew, for the first time since Luke had walked out of the hospital, leaving her alone, she was attracted to a man. Not just attracted, she admitted, but lust driven. But of all the people to develop a crush on! She cringed inwardly. Dr Pierre Favatier would never look twice at her. Besides, there was his girlfriend—Katherine. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. How mortifying and what a cliché—to have a crush on your boss. Well, there was nothing for it, she would just have to make sure he never guessed. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to be around for long. If she could manage to avoid him, apart from work, no one would ever know. Then, when he was gone, she would get over it.
‘Julie.’ His voice broke into her thoughts. Her blush deepened. Thank goodness the car was dark. ‘I wonder if you would consider doing me a favour? I know I have no right to ask you—and you must feel free to say no.’ Julie was curious.
‘I have to go back to France in a few days. The manager of the vineyard needs me to sign some papers and sort some problems out.’
Julie’s heart sank. She would miss seeing him around, even in the short time he was away. Was he going to ask her to keep an eye on Caroline? That would be okay, Julie thought. Caroline could always come and stay at her flat. It was small, but they would cope.
‘Do you own the vineyards?’
‘I own half, the other half belongs to Jacques—or Caroline now. My brother wanted to give me his share. Once he met Iona and moved to Scotland, he had no interest in the vineyard. I agreed to look after his half for him. Not that I can spare much time either, with my work. That is why I employ a manager.’
‘Then what did Caroline mean when she said you had stolen her father’s heritage?’
‘She knew her father had given me his share, but not that I put it in a trust for her. She will inherit when she is twenty-one, or sooner if I think she’s ready.’
‘Does she know?’
‘Jacques and I agreed that she shouldn’t know until she was older. Of course he had no idea he wouldn’t be around when she turned twenty-one.’ He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘The vineyard, and the money her grandfather left, is worth a considerable sum of money, and neither of us thought it would be a good thing for her to grow up believing she’d never have to worry about earning a living. Not that she’ll ever have to, if she doesn’t want to.’
‘And this favour you want to ask me?’
He hesitated ‘I want Caroline to come with me to France. I want her to begin to understand what it means to have responsibility. The vineyard employs many locals.’
‘And don’t you think she’ll come with you? Do you want me to talk to her?’ Julie couldn’t help the pang of regret she felt at the way Pierre seemed to regard her as a means to an end. Then she berated herself. Of course he saw her that way. Why else would he seek out her company?
‘No, I’ll talk to her. She has a mid-term break coming up so time off school isn’t a problem. But I think she’ll try to insist that she stays here in Scotland while I am away.’
‘If she won’t go with you, she could come and stay with me, if that would help?’
Pierre glanced at her and smiled bleakly. ‘You are a good friend to us, Julie.’ Once again Julie felt her heart drop. Good friend—huh.
‘But that’s not what I want to ask you.’ He continued. ‘My hospital, the one I usually work at—I think you’d find it interesting to see.’ He paused, as if searching for the right words. ‘No, Julie, I want to ask you if you will come with us.’
‘Me?’ Julie spluttered. ‘You want me to go with you? To France?’
‘I know I have no right to ask you, but if you were to come, I think Caroline would come too. She likes you.’
But what about you? Julie fumed inwardly. How do you feel?
‘If its female company you want for her, why don’t you ask your girlfriend? Katherine—isn’t that her name?’
‘Katherine is no longer my girlfriend, as you put it. When I told her I’d be going skiing instead of taking her away for the weekend, she wasn’t happy. She said I had to choose. So I did.’ He shot Julie a small smile. ‘It was never anything serious anyway.’
She couldn’t help a hidden smile of delight at the thought that Pierre was no longer involved with a woman. Even though, no doubt, it was hardly likely to stay like that for long. But at least he was putting his niece’s needs first for the time being.
‘I don’t know if I can get off work,’ she prevaricated. But she knew she had tons of annual leave to take. It was just that her heart was pounding with excitement, making it difficult for her to breathe. A week in France with Pierre. Being with him, seeing him work, in his home environment. It was a fantastic opportunity. But what had she just been telling herself? That she needed to avoid him, for the sake of her pride if not her heart, and here she was contemplating spending a week in close proximity with him. Talk about heavenly torture.
‘Of course. You have your own life. It was only a thought. Please, forget I asked.’ He shrugged, but Julie could see he was disappointed.
It was only a few days. Surely she could keep her feelings under control for that length of time?
‘Okay,’ she found herself saying. ‘If Caroline wants me to, that is.’
Pierre looked thrilled.
‘C’est le pied! That’s good. We leave next weekend.’
Over the next week, Julie could hardly believe that she had agreed to go to France with Pierre. He had told her when he saw her at work on Monday that Caroline was delighted she was going too, and had told him that no way would she go if Julie hadn’t agreed to.
Every time she was in his company she
felt awkward and tongue-tied. Except when they were seeing patients or operating. Only then did her feelings of self-consciousness disappear. To her chagrin, she found she was taking longer in the mornings to get dressed, critically surveying her appearance before, with an impatient sigh of regret, turning away from the mirror and reaching for her usual workday clothes. But, she had to admit, her cheeks had gained colour and her eyes sparkled. She tried to tell herself that it was because she was loving her job, the excitement of new challenges, of stretching herself as a doctor, but, in her more honest moments, she knew she was kidding herself. It was thinking about him, seeing him every day, that brought the sparkle to her eye and a hippity-hop to her heart. She fancied him—she fancied him like crazy.
When Kim heard Julie was to spend a few days in France with Pierre, she was agog.
‘You lucky old so-and-so,’ she said. ‘There will be more than woman wanting to cut your heart out when they hear.’
They were in the duty room. Julie had just finished rounds with Pierre, who had gone off to confer with his senior colleagues about a training issue, and Kim was, unusually for her, taking a lunch-break. ‘You didn’t tell me anything over the phone the other night. Go on, spill the beans. Did you…? I mean, when you found yourselves alone in a romantic hideaway—was that when…?’
Despite herself, Julie had to laugh. Her friend had being trying to matchmake for her for years—with no success. Julie had refused point blank to go on any of the dates her friend had tried to arrange.
‘It wasn’t like that at all,’ Julie said firmly. ‘As I’ve told you many times before, he sees me as a companion to his niece. I think he sees me as a lifeline. Maybe even as an excuse not to have to deal with Caroline at all.’
Her friend looked unconvinced. ‘If you’re right, and I am not saying you are at all, how do you feel about that? Don’t you mind, well, being used?’
Julie felt a blush warm her cheeks. ‘I don’t feel as if I’m being used. Caroline reminds me so much of myself when I was her age. I like her.’
Kim eyed Julie suspiciously. ‘You’re blushing,’ she said accusingly. ‘My God, you do have a crush on him! Oh, Julie, don’t get hurt.’
‘A minute ago you were suggesting that we were having an affair, and now you are warning me off him.’ Julie tried a laugh, but it was a strangled sound.
‘Julie, it’s all right to have an affair with men like Pierre. And I was only kidding. I didn’t think he was your type. Men like Pierre, well, they are heart-breakers. They are only in for the short haul. But, Julie, if ever there was a woman who was in it for keeps, it’s you.’
‘And I’m not the sort of woman Pierre would want, let alone fall in love with,’ she said bitterly ‘Look, Kim, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Anyway, a minute ago you were suggesting we had a thing going.’
‘Yes, but that was before I knew you fancied him!’
‘Kim—’ Julie started, just as her pager beeped. Seconds later Kim’s went off too. The two women glanced at their pagers.
‘I’m wanted in A and E,’ Kim said, getting to her feet.
‘Me, too,’ said Julie. ‘Come on, let’s see what’s up.’ As the two women hurried off to the department, a short walk away, Julie turned to her friend. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about me going away with Pierre and Caroline. You know what the gossip is like in this place.’
‘Don’t worry, kid, your secret is safe with me. Both of them.’
The accident and emergency department was a hive of activity. One of the staff nurses hurried over to Kim as soon as she saw her arrive.
‘There’s been an explosion in one of the chemical factories on the outskirts of the city. We’ve been put on major incident alert.’
‘How many casualties and when are we expecting them to arrive?’ Kim asked, all business.
‘They can’t tell us as yet. All we know is that there are at least five seriously hurt, possibly more. They say there are crush injuries as well as chemical burns…’She turned to Julie. ‘That’s why we called Plastics. Not everyone is accounted for yet.’
In the melee, Julie could see Pierre’s tall frame above the heads of the nurses and doctors rushing about, making their preparations to receive the casualties. Leaving her friend to get on with her job, she went over to Pierre, who was talking to the department manager. He seemed unaware of her presence as she stood beside him.
‘The patients will need to go through a disinfecting process,’ he was saying. ‘Make sure one is set up to the side of the department. You’ll be clearing the department of all non-life-threatening injuries, I imagine?’
‘It’s being done as we speak,’ said the manager, a tall woman in her early fifties Julie knew by sight if not by name. ‘Unfortunately the constant threat of terrorist attacks in the UK means that we have plans for all sorts of emergencies, including ones like this so, Dr Favatier, you can relax. We know what we’re doing.’ The woman turned away to talk to another couple of doctors who had presented themselves at the department. Pierre looking pleased to see Julie, flashed her a smile.
‘Good. They paged you.’
‘What would you like me to do?’ Julie’s heart was beating rapidly, though whether as a reaction to the emergency or to Pierre’s smile she couldn’t be sure.
‘When the casualties arrive, our job will be to work with the emergency doctors to ensure that any patients with chemical burns are treated appropriately. Obviously saving lives is the priority, but if we can ensure that their burns are treated properly right from the start, there will be less chance of patients needing corrective surgery later. D’accord?’
At Julie’s nod, he went on to explain the course of action they would take as patients arrived. ‘You must be careful you don’t transfer any of the chemicals onto your own skin,’ he warned, gripping her shoulder in a vice-like grip, his eyes boring into hers. ‘No matter how—what is the word I’m looking for? Agitated?—things get, you must promise me you’ll be careful.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ Julie replied.
Outside they could hear the wail of ambulances. At least three, Julie thought, and there was bound to be more following.
‘Stay close to me. If you are not sure, ask.’ He lifted a hand as if he was about to touch her face, then just as quickly dropped it. ‘Remember, stay safe.’
The next few hours passed in a blur for Julie as she fought to keep up with Pierre. Gone was the laconic attitude she had come to know. Instead, he worked with the single-minded concentration Julie saw in him when he operated. All the while he explained to Julie exactly what he was doing and why. Out of the seven serious casualties that were admitted, three had sustained major burns and required surgery.
It was after six by the time they finished operating. As the last patient was wheeled out of Theatre and into Recovery, Pierre straightened his shoulders. He had been bent over the operating table for the last three hours. His height in Theatre was a disadvantage, the table being set at a level appropriate for the majority of staff, Julie and the scrub nurse included. He looks tired, she thought, but then as she too stretched her aching muscles she realised he wasn’t the only one.
Removing his mask and peeling off his gloves, Pierre looked at her sharply.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, frowning.
‘I’m fine,’ Julie replied a little more abruptly than she’d intended. ‘Nothing a sandwich and a cup of coffee won’t put right, at any rate.’
‘Thank you, everyone,’ Pierre said to the rest of the exhausted team. ‘Well done.’ There were smiles and nods of appreciation as the theatre team set about tidying up the theatre in preparation for the morning. Pierre turned to Julie.
‘You should go home and get some rest,’ he said. ‘We have another busy day tomorrow.’
‘I’m fine,’ Julie said. ‘In fact, I feel so full of adrenaline I doubt I could sleep anyway.’ As they were talking, they were walking towards the changing room. Pierre glanced at Julie. ‘I know exactly what you
mean,’ he said. ‘I feel the same way after I operate. After surgery I often go on my motorbike for a drive into the country. Afterwards I usually sleep like an infant.’
‘A baby,’ Julie corrected automatically. Then she noticed Pierre’s look of puzzlement. ‘Sleep like a baby. That’s the expression in English.’
‘D’accord. Sleep like a baby,’ he grinned. ‘Would you like to come too?’
‘What? For a spin? On your bike?’ She thought for a moment, imagining herself flying along at speed, the wind in her face, her arms wrapped around Pierre. Damn it! Why were her thoughts always going in the wrong direction as far as he was concerned?
‘You’ll be safe with me, I promise. And after, we will have something to eat. Non?’ He looked at Julie a twinkle in his eyes.
He makes me feel five years old, she mused. As if I’m a child to whom he’s offering a trip to the fairground. But then she made up her mind. What the hell! Why do I have to be so bloody cautious all the time? Why can’t I just let myself have fun for once? Live for the moment and to hell with the consequences!
‘Why not?’ she said.
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE time Julie emerged from surgical block, Pierre was waiting for her, casually leaning against a wall while demolishing an apple with evident enjoyment. He had changed into jeans and a T-shirt with only a leather jacket for warmth. Julie’s heart gave a traitorous leap. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking and so self-assured? And why did she feel so dowdy and uninteresting next to him? For once she wished she was the glamorous type.
Even to Julie’s untrained eye his bike, all gleaming metal and chrome, looked as if it was built for speed. The night was dark and cloudless, cold with the sharpness of frost in the air. Julie wondered if it was going to snow again. She shivered. Hopefully in the South of France it would be warmer. Although she was used to the cold, a little warmth in the middle of winter would be welcome.
