by Annie O'Neil
So what to do? Grit her teeth and force herself through the next few days without saying anything until one of them boarded the ferry? Or rip off the plaster and find out what was happening beneath that stoic, manly exterior of his.
‘I thought you should know I said I’d take Noreen’s post, but I’m going to tell her I’ve changed my mind.’
Cooper’s eyebrows drew together and his eyes arrowed straight to hers. ‘What?’
‘I probably should’ve spoken with you first, but...’ But what? ‘I need to start making decisions for myself, you know?’
It felt wrong. Cooper’s confused expression. The churning in her gut. The weird energy pinging between them. She loved Bourtree. She loved the patients, the work, the snow angels. Cooper. She loved him with all her being...
But she couldn’t live her life at the end of someone else’s yo-yo, and if ever she’d seen a man who had yet to decide where or how he wanted to live his life it was Cooper MacAskill. As such, she needed to take herself out of this picture and put herself in a new one. One of her own making.
‘Audrey? What are you talking about?’
She put her drink down and sat down heavily at the small kitchen table where, only hours earlier, they’d been feeding one another fluffy bites of pancake, laughing and sharing syrupy kisses.
‘Noreen rang this morning while you were in the shower. She’s planning to stay in Australia and asked if I wanted first dibs on her job. I said yes. Too quickly, as it turns out. It’s clear that things between us— Well, I think I’d be better off somewhere else. I’ll ring Noreen and let her know. I’ll stay until they can find a replacement, so as not to have any gaps in care, but I think it’s best if I leave as soon as possible.’
Cooper opened his mouth to say something. If he was going to offer some kind of placation, she didn’t have it in her to hear it. Tears were percolating so close to the surface she needed to finish her piece, go to bed, wake up, and then try and get on with her life. Just as she’d planned when she’d first taken this post.
She waved her hands between them. ‘Rhona and Charlie have said I can stay with them. Not as a lodger. I’ll be keeping an eye on Rhona, so Charlie can get some rest.’
Cooper gave his jaw a scrub, lifted his mug, then set it down again without taking a drink. It was impossible to read his expression.
‘Is that what you really want?’ he asked.
No. It wasn’t at all what she wanted. But she had promised herself she’d never feel as if someone else was in charge of her life again, and when she’d seen that look in his eyes back at the church...his look of shock that she’d been invited to participate in the Nativity rather than him, a ‘proper’ islander...it had cut her to the quick.
It had also thrown a harsh spotlight on the fact that her feelings for Cooper might easily eclipse her power to steer her own life path. The fact she’d been able to sing had been little short of a miracle. But she’d trained her eyes on Rhona, desperately trying to channel an iota of the strength that incredible woman had shown—insisting upon coming to the church, ensuring her family’s life carried on as normal, because one day soon, as heartbreaking as it was, her family would have to carry on their lives without her.
‘Right, then. If that’s what you want, I respect it,’ Cooper said. He abruptly rose from the table, poured his drink down the sink and washed his mug. ‘I’d best be off to bed. It’s been a long day. You sure you’re all right for morning rounds?’
‘Of course,’ she answered quietly.
‘And you’re comfortable staying here tonight, with me in the house?’
Her heart squeezed tight. She hadn’t meant for Cooper to think she was frightened of him, or that she hated him. Quite the opposite. She was in love with him and she was protecting her heart against the fact that it was a love he clearly didn’t share.
Being part of the Nativity, a part of island life, with her rounds and even seeing the northern lights, had made her feel safer and more cared for than she had in years. Making love with Cooper had been more than the icing on the cake. It had been the whole cake. Which was why, when he’d looked at her with such shock, such...dismay, she had known she wouldn’t be able to bear having it all ripped away from her.
‘I’m fine, Coop. Cooper,’ she corrected herself. ‘Look... Don’t take this personally, please. I’d stay here until the end of my contract if Rhona and Charlie didn’t need me. It just seemed an easy way to...you know...wrap things up.’
‘Sure.’ He gave her a quick nod, with a flash of something darkening his eyes, and then, as she’d seen when they were at Jimmy’s, that barrier fell into place and the distance between them widened even further still.
As heartbreaking as it was, she’d made the right decision.
‘Night, then,’ he said, as if they’d just decided to have porridge in the morning instead of toast. ‘See you in the morning.’
And with that he turned and went to bed.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she whispered to the empty kitchen. ‘And a Happy New Year...’
* * *
To say Cooper had slept badly was putting it mildly.
At five a.m. he put a night of tossing and turning to an end by throwing back the heavy quilt and heading to the kitchen to put on the kettle.
Why had he told Doc Anstruther he’d take the island GP job before speaking with Audrey?
Because he’d wanted it to be a surprise, that was why. Wanted to offer a future with him as his Christmas present to her.
An epically bad idea when the girl in question didn’t want him as a present...or a future.
When he got downstairs Audrey was already there. Dressed in another pair of mismatched red and green scrubs, with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath, she was also wearing the elf hat from the costume he had failed to convince her to wear on the first day.
An olive branch?
‘Happy Christmas...’
Her features were anxious, wary. Two things he’d never hoped to see when she was looking at him.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he replied, without much fanfare.
She made a tiny almost invisible wave, then let her hands fall to her sides.
A surge of frustration rose in him. Why was he acting like an arse? If he really loved her he should want her to be happy. And if not being with him and moving somewhere else made her happy then, yeah, like Charlie had said, it was better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
And, unlike Charlie, he would get the solace of knowing Audrey had chosen the life she wanted on her terms. He knew more than most how important that was. His grandmother had had a choice. She could’ve put him in care, followed her dream of travelling, but she’d stuck by him—even though he’d been a right royal pain in the posterior. She’d loved him. Through thick and thin.
Being dumped by the woman he loved on Christmas Eve definitely qualified as thin, but Cooper knew the only way he could live with himself was to take his grandmother’s lead.
‘How about we make ourselves a special breakfast before we head out?’ he said.
Her expression softened. There. That was better. This whole heartbreak thing didn’t have to include anger and bitterness.
They made a proper hearty breakfast. Cooper even unearthed one of the cookie cutters and shaped the toast into Santa and Christmas tree shapes, which made her laugh.
It was all a bit awkward...but it was kind awkward. A damn sight better than anything else.
She took a big gulp of her coffee, then asked, ‘What did you and your grandmother used to do for Christmas? Was your sister here too?’
Cooper shook his head. ‘After my parents died, she left pretty sharpish. She found herself in New Zealand and hasn’t come back since.’
‘Have you been out there?’
He nodded. ‘Once—back when I was doing my medical
training. I did a six-month stint in one of the emergency departments in Auckland, so I could meet her husband and kids.’
‘Oh, that sounds good. Have you thought about going back?’
‘No. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, but...’ He shifted a few baked beans round his plate. ‘They didn’t really feel like family. My sister hated all the questions people kept asking about our past, and in the end I felt more of a hindrance than a help, so I left.’
‘And that was it?’
‘We sent the odd Christmas card, but the lines of communication drifted until...’ He made a pfft noise and drew his fingers apart. That was it. They’d not properly been in touch for a few years now. Apart, of course, from his telling her about Gertie. Maybe he should reach out to her again. Ring her, even.
An idea began to form.
‘Do you fancy going to the pub later today?’ he asked.
Audrey gave him a sidelong look. ‘Is it even open?’
‘Absolutely. It’s a Bourtree tradition. It opens up in the late afternoon, after most folks have had their Christmas dinner.’
‘Do they serve food?’
‘They do. Some folk—the elderly and a handful of singletons—can always be counted on to eat there. We’re invited to Doc Anstruther’s. I was going to tell you last night, but—’
She held up a hand. ‘I kind of kyboshed things last night. I’m sorry for springing that on you. I just thought if I didn’t tell you straight away I might change my mind.’
A tiny spark of hope hit the flint in his heart. ‘Would you?’
‘Change my mind?’ Her expression clouded.
Cooper could’ve kicked himself. Let the woman make her own choices, man!
He rose and collected their breakfast dishes. ‘Anyway, I was thinking if we went down to the pub it might be a nice time for everyone to raise a glass to my gran. You know, with everyone together and all.’
‘Sort of a mini-wake?’
‘Exactly.’
‘That sounds nice.’ Audrey met his eyes, the connection growing taut as she said, ‘I’d like that. And then I can head over to Charlie and Rhona’s.’
He tried his best not to stiffen. This was her choice. Her call. Something about loving someone and setting them free flitted through his brain.
‘Right you are. Well, then... How about we head out and get these rounds sorted?’
* * *
By the time they got to the pub Cooper was finding it difficult to keep up his jolly demeanour.
‘You all right?’ Audrey asked.
‘Aye, sure.’
He wasn’t, and Audrey knew it. Light banter and chit-chat had proved more difficult as the day had worn on. In the end, most of the car journeys between patients had occurred in silence. Thank goodness for Christmas radio.
‘Shall I get you a...red wine, was it?’ Audrey offered as he helped her to take her coat off and hang it in the pub’s entryway.
‘No, you go on and take a seat. There’s a table there by the fire.’
‘Oh, you mean our table!’
Audrey pinked up a bit when he gave her a What are you talking about? look.
‘It’s the one where we sat the first time we came here.’
She fluttered her fingers, as if the gesture would erase the moment, and then began to weave her way through the already busy pub towards the table.
Our table?
Could Audrey be as unhappy about her decision as he was?
He didn’t bother pushing his way through to the front of the bar. He needed the time to regroup. Stack his facts in the right order. Thank goodness for island time. Sometimes it was genuinely useful.
He turned and looked over towards Audrey, who was already chatting away with someone at one of the adjacent tables. They were pulling out a phone and showing her something or other. Audrey blinked, and then laughed as if she’d just seen something absolutely wonderful.
Gone was the bristly woman who’d arrived on Bourtree and made it very clear she was the type of woman who liked to keep herself to herself. In her place was a woman glowing with approbation and from being part of a community who not only cared for her, but respected her. Exactly what she had said she wanted from life.
She was needed here on Bourtree. People loved her and she loved them. She’d left London seeking solace for a broken heart and had found herself embraced by an entire community.
His heart bashed against his ribcage as a lightbulb went on in his head.
She’d taken Noreen’s job because she’d wanted to stay. Right up until she’d thought he didn’t want her to. This was the worst possible Gift of the Magi. They were giving each other the ‘gift’ of ending things before they could even start.
Madness.
Especially when he knew that loving Audrey was the most important thing that had ever happened to him.
He needed to lay to rest that scared, angry little boy whose parents had been so screwed up they hadn’t known what they were saying half the time. Today was the day he would become the man his grandmother had believed in. Today was the day he would embrace the future she’d hoped for for him.
One that was honest and open and courageous.
One that—Lord willing—included loving Audrey right here on Bourtree.
Today’s rounds should’ve been enough to convince her to stay if it was just the job she wanted. They’d been given Christmas chocolates, cards, and more mince pies than any pair could handle.
Cayley had given them both enormous bear hugs and said she owed all her confidence and her future career as a costume designer to them.
Jimmy had been concocting an enormous ‘healthy’ trifle to take over to Angela’s before heading to the pub to raise a glass to the pair of them in thanks for finally getting him ‘oop and oot the hoose’.
One family had even gave them an entire Christmas pudding, with warnings to mind their teeth as they’d been sure to hide a lucky silver coin in the centre of it.
There had been some tough visits, too. Elderly couples struggling to make a cup of tea, let alone Christmas dinner. A woman with Parkinson’s whom they’d found in tears because she’d stained her favourite Christmas dress after trying and failing to put some cranberry sauce in the crystal bowl her grandmother had always used.
Audrey had brightened each of their days with her smile and her warm cups of tea and, in one case, her tactical redistribution of their Christmas chocolates.
The toughest visit, of course, had been Rhona and Charlie. The couple had said they were getting on as best they could, and had tearily pointed out the small guest room where Audrey could put her things when she came over later that night. Because, yes, they had to admit, caring for Rhona was becoming harder for Charlie to do on his own.
Rhona had definitely looked less rosy-cheeked than she had the night before. But Cooper had been happy to see that once the short squall of tears had passed Rhona had had an aura of tranquillity about her. Acceptance. As if she’d come to terms with her future and made peace with her past, so that all she needed to do from here on was enjoy each and every moment she had with her family.
She knew she was loved.
That was it, wasn’t it?
The one thing he hadn’t told Audrey.
That she was loved. He loved her. With all his heart.
He’d let his grandmother slip from this world to the next without her knowing how very loved she was. He was damned if he was going to do it again.
‘All right there, Coop?’ the barman asked when he found himself, buzzing with adrenaline, at the head of the queue. ‘Or should I say Doc, now that you’re the one literally taking the pulse of the island?’
Cooper obliged him with a laugh, not even bothering to ask how he’d heard the news...because that was Bourtree Castle.
He was on the brink of orde
ring two glasses of red wine, then changed his mind. ‘A bottle of champagne, please.’
‘Celebrating, are we?’
‘Something like that.’
‘One new job or two?’ the barman asked.
‘Depends on how this goes,’ he said, accepting the champagne bottle, nestled deep in an ice bucket.
The barman tapped the side of his nose. ‘I’ll lay my bets on two.’
Cooper reached out and shook the man’s hand. ‘Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.’
‘Aye.’
Cooper nodded, his smile broadening. The plan was to toast new beginnings. Whatever they may be. With any luck he’d be buying everyone in the pub a round by the end of the night.
* * *
‘Champagne?’ Audrey couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I thought we were going for red wine?’
‘We were, but...’ Cooper took his seat across from her. ‘It’s Christmas Day and we’ve both been working hard. I might not see much of you over the next few days, so I thought a wee glass of bubbly might be in order—’
‘Oh, Coop,’ Audrey interjected. ‘About that—’
‘No—please. I have something I want to say.’
He took her hands in his and, despite her vow to keep her wits about her, her brain started short-circuiting and fizzing the way it did whenever they touched, so listening was probably a good idea until she could put her own thoughts in order.
‘I took the job here on Bourtree.’ Cooper’s voice was heavy with meaning. ‘Doc Anstruther’s job. Yesterday morning. Before we got to Jimmy’s.’
Her heart lurched against her ribcage. ‘I see.’
‘I’d like to stay—but not if it makes you unhappy.’
Her skin was all prickly. Had she completely misinterpreted what had happened at Jimmy’s? The look they’d shared during the Nativity? ‘Go on.’
‘I took the job hoping I could find a way for you to stay, but it seems you’re intent on leaving. To be honest, without you here, I don’t really want to stay either.’
