Once she returned it was a matter of going straight upstairs and shutting the door behind her. As Harry made no attempt to communicate during the evenings, it seemed as if he was getting the message. If she did have any doubts about it, the sardonic gleam in his eye on the few occasions when they did come face to face was answer enough.
Easter had arrived, and with it the uplifting feeling that winter had finally gone.
There was to be an Easter Bonnet Parade through the village on the Monday of the holiday weekend with a prize for the best entry, followed by the traditional cream tea in the village hall.
All the female staff at the surgery had been persuaded to take part by the vicar’s wife and, in the week before the event were searching around for something exciting to wear on their heads. Phoebe was among them and wishing she wasn’t.
There was so little time to prepare, she thought in frustration. Her evenings were taken up with Marcus, meals and what seemed like endless chores, and since the scales had fallen from her eyes with regard to Harry it was hard to work up any enthusiasm for anything except her child.
But when she went up to her apartment in the late afternoon of the day before Good Friday, there were two carrier bags outside her door. When she investigated their contents her eyes widened.
In the smaller of the two there was a cuddly Easter bunny and a chocolate egg with his name piped across it in icing for Marcus. In the bigger bag was a similar egg with her name on it, and incredibly, underneath it, wrapped in folds of soft tissue, was a brightly coloured pillbox hat decorated with a plume of feathers and a dress from the same 1950s period with a nipped-in waist and swing skirt.
The card with them said:
These belonged to my mother and were among some things of hers that Aunt Barbara has kept stored for me. Would they be of any use to you for the parade?
A lump had come up into her throat at the unexpected thoughtfulness of Harry’s gesture, and she cringed to think how petty her behaviour must have seemed since the episode outside Glades Manor.
At the bottom of what he’d written was a P.S. that gave some indication of his feelings regarding that. It said:
I’m not trying to get back into your good books, though I miss your sunny smiles. It was just a thought, Phoebe, and an opportunity for them to come out of their wrappings for once.
The surgery closed at six-thirty, but it was almost seven o’clock when she heard him coming up the stairs. When he reached the landing she flung open her door and came out to face him wearing the dress and hat.
If he hadn’t already been conscious of her enticing curves, he was now as the dress fitted perfectly, and the hat, perched on top of the shining swathe of her hair, completed the picture. In a moment the stresses of his working day were wiped away by the vision she presented.
‘Wow!’ he breathed. ‘You look fantastic! You don’t do things by halves, do you?’
She was pirouetting in front of him and smiling. ‘No, I don’t. I just wanted to say that I would be honoured to wear your mother’s lovely clothes, and thank you so much for thinking of me. There must have been some bright days in her life. Did she buy them for a special occasion?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied, ‘but while running the stables my parents mixed with some of the wealthiest folk in Bluebell Cove. I suppose they had to be part of the social round to find their customers.’
‘Yes, that would seem possible,’ she agreed. ‘And now that you’ve had a viewing, will you step inside for a moment and help me with the zip of the dress? I think that it’s caught in the fabric somehow.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he replied, and followed her into her sitting room. As he bent to free the zip his hands brushed against the smooth skin of her back. He became still as the desire that had risen in him when he’d seen her in the dress and the hat spiralled.
When she swivelled round to face him questioningly, he gave one last pull at the zip and the dress fell to the floor, revealing silky underwear that did little to cover her gently curved figure. Phoebe could feel it again, the heat, the pull of the attraction he had for her, and she for him.
‘Where’s Marcus?’ he asked in a low, strained voice.
‘Asleep,’ was the breathless answer.
‘That’s all right, then,’ and with a thankful smile, Harry took her face between his hands and kissed her hard on the lips. Then his mouth was caressing her neck and the rise and fall of her breasts in the flimsy underwear.
‘Can I take them off?’ he murmured.
‘Mmm. Yes, please.’
‘And the hat?’
‘What? Oh, yes, of course, by all means,’ she said laughingly, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Then everything else was forgotten—the hurt of what he’d said outside the manor house, the way he’d taken the joy from another occasion like this by calling halt at the height of their desire. For now that same passion was back again, stronger than before.
They were hungry for each other, blending as if they were one, and when their desperate longing for each other had been appeased, Phoebe lay close to his chest between the sheets of her bed and said dreamily, ‘You must be starving. I’ll make you something to eat.’
He kissed the tip of her nose and sighed as he explained, ‘I’m expected at Four Winds House for my evening meal and can’t let them down. Their lives are so restricted these days that even something as unexciting as having me to dine with them is an event.’
She gave him a gentle push and told him, ’Go on, then. You’ve just given some meaning to my restricted life, so now go and liven up theirs. I’ve never worked under that formidable woman, but can still appreciate her past worth to the community here. Yet she has got some nerve, grilling me about Marcus and my marriage! Jenna is lovely so she must take after that nice father of hers.’
‘Yes, she is. It’s only since Barbara had to give up the practice that she’s really had any time for her husband and daughter.’
‘She’ll probably give all the affection that Jenna never had to little Lily.’
‘Yes, maybe. Better a generation late than never, I suppose.’
He was getting dressed and she lay watching him, admiring the strong flanks, the broad chest, the arresting face. Harry was some guy, she thought. He was taking her out of the lonely world she’d been simply existing in and bringing her to life. So why did she feel that if it came to any kind of total commitment, he would hesitate?
‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked, tuning into her change of mood.
‘I was wondering if you would ever use me to fill a gap.’
‘Is that what you think? That I might take advantage of you, Phoebe?
‘Use you for my own desires? You’re beautiful and brave, the kind of woman any man would want to spend the rest of his life with.’
‘But not you Harry, because you know I would want commitment. Family life with all its ups and downs, joys and sorrows.’
Clutching the sheet around her she raised herself up against the pillows. ‘Sometimes it feels as if you retreat into a desert sort of place that only you know about.’
He sighed. ‘We’ve just been to heaven and back. Can’t we live with that for a while?’
She could live with it for ever if she knew he felt the same as she did, she thought, but he was saying apologetically, ‘I have to go Phoebe, or the old folks will be thinking I’ve forgotten.’ He stopped in the doorway. ‘I’m just going to have a peep at Marcus if that’s all right.’
‘Yes of course,’ she told him, still huddled under the sheet. ‘You don’t have to ask. When I picked him up from the nursery today he said his first word. He must have heard it from the other children when their fathers have been to collect them.’
‘And what was it?’
‘Daddy! Strange, wasn’t it?’
‘Hmm, yes,’ he agreed, and refrained from telling her that he was one step ahead. He’d been called out to the nursery that morning because one of the little ones had been
taken ill, and when Marcus had seen him he’d held out his arms and that was what he’d said.
He’d kept quiet about it, partly because he knew that she had doubts about him and also because he’d already decided that Marcus might have used the word collectively rather than directing it at himself.
If Phoebe knew what had happened, she would be worried about the outcome of that incident. Yet not now, surely, not after what had just happened. Their coming together had been like paradise on earth; there had been no desert places there.
When he’d gone, Phoebe showered and dressed. Then, finally coming down to earth, she tried to decide whether to carry on with the painting of the sitting room or tackle a pile of ironing.
Not wanting to be messing with paint cans and having to change into the dungarees and old sun hat that she’d been wearing on the night that Harry had arrived, she chose the ironing, which was the kind of chore where one’s thoughts could wander without much chance of a mishap.
It was late when she’d finished and there had been no sound of him returning, so she went to bed and slept with the pillow that his head had rested on held close in her arms.
When she awoke the next morning the first thing she saw was the pillbox hat on the dressing table and she smiled at the memory of how she’d still had it on her head when Harry had removed her underwear.
That was the first thing she saw. The first thing she knew was that Harry hadn’t come back from the Balfours. She didn’t know how she knew, but when she went onto the landing there was the feeling that his apartment was empty. When she looked out of the landing window, his car wasn’t down below on the forecourt.
Maybe he stayed over at Four Winds House, she reasoned. If they’d been drinking he wouldn’t have driven home, and to have got a taxi would have meant being without his car this morning.
But the headland wasn’t that far away. If he hadn’t wanted to drive, he could have walked back to the apartment in twenty minutes, so where was he?
As she was giving Marcus his breakfast the phone rang, but it wasn’t the voice she wanted to hear at the other end. Leo was on the line and her mouth went dry as she listened to what he had to say.
‘Harry is in hospital,’ he informed her. ‘He was admitted late yesterday evening after rescuing a couple of teenagers who’d been larking about down on the beach and been caught by the tide. Apparently they were being swept out to sea when he got there, and he went in after them.
‘All three are being kept under observation for twenty-four hours at least,’ he explained. ‘As residents of Bluebell Cove ourselves, we both know that the sea is very cold and often dangerous at this time of year. They could have drowned if Harry hadn’t been driving past along the tops and seen them struggling in the water down below.
‘The hospital says that the lads are very subdued this morning as not only are they all suffering from exposure but Harry has a deep gash on his hand from where he was thrown against rocks as he was pulling one of them to safety.
‘He’s asking if you could go into his apartment and sort out some clothes for him, as at the moment all he has to wear is a hospital robe, and he’ll need some decent gear to come out in when he’s discharged. Apparently there’s a spare key for his place in the drawer of the desk in his consulting room.’ He indulged in a moment’s curiosity. ‘Are the two of you an item?’
‘No,’ she told him, ‘but we are very near neighbours, couldn’t possibly live any closer. Of course I’ll sort out some clothes for him. I can take them over as soon as I’ve dropped Marcus off at the nursery if I can be spared for an hour or so.’
‘Yes, that would be fine,’ he said. ‘I won’t have the chance to go myself with two surgeries to cope with on my own. Without him the surgery staff will all need to pull out the stops so, yes Phoebe, do that. Have you many calls booked for today?’
‘Don’t worry. Nothing urgent.’ She was trying to sound unfazed but inside she was horrified. While she’d been blissfully cuddling his pillow Harry could have drowned, and the thought of life without him was not bearable.
When she arrived back from the nursery, Phoebe went to find the key that he’d mentioned and once she’d found it went up the stairs to find him something to wear, as he’d requested.
As the door swung back on its hinges, it felt strange to be going into Harry’s apartment with him not there. It was tidy, nothing out of place, and as she looked around her she saw that there was just one photograph of the woman he’d been married to, which was odd. A smiling blonde with sun-bleached hair and tanned skin.
Yet when she thought about it there was only the odd snapshot of Darren and herself in her place, so maybe it wasn’t that strange. But she was not someone to pry and, opening his wardrobe, picked out a change of clothing for him.
As she locked the door behind her she wondered if Harry had ever done anything about his interest in Glades Manor. She shuddered to think that if the fates had been less kind last night on the seashore, he might never have had the chance to buy the place, even if he’d wanted to.
She found him in a small side ward when she arrived at the hospital gazing morosely into space, but his expression changed to relief when he saw her and his first words were, ‘Am I glad to see you, Phoebe! Have you brought me some clothes?’
Nodding she went to sit beside him and took his hand in hers. ‘I hope you’ll approve of what I’ve chosen.’
‘I don’t care what you’ve brought as long as they cover me up and I can get back to the surgery.’
‘Leo said they were keeping you in here for twenty-four hours.’
‘I’ve persuaded them to discharge me as soon as I have something to wear.’
She looked down at his left arm, which was heavily bandaged, and asked, ‘So what’s the damage to your arm?’
‘Severed tendon. They operated on it not long after I arrived.’
‘In that case, you do need to stay in a bit longer. I’m amazed that you’ve talked the doctors into letting you leave! Surely that’s quite irresponsible?’
‘No more irresponsible than what I did earlier in the evening,’ Harry muttered under his breath. Phoebe’s suggestion that he might just be using her was crystal clear in his memory, and to his shame it wasn’t entirely undeserved.
Shock had her sitting up straighter. ‘Meaning?’
Harry took a deep breath and tried to explain his conflicted emotions. ‘Making love to you when I don’t know my own mind half the time perhaps isn’t the most sensible thing to have done.’
Phoebe was horrified at his words. ‘Well, any pleasant thoughts I might have regarding it in the future will be soured by what you’ve just said! We were both consenting adults.’ Her voice broke. ‘I slept with the pillow you’d had your head on cradled in my arms. I was frantic when I realised that you weren’t there when I knocked on your door this morning.’
He was observing her sombrely, thinking that he’d been blessed from the moment of meeting this wonderful woman, so what was the matter with him, why didn’t he tell her so? But the scars of his emotionally bleak childhood ran too deep to allow the words to form. If anything, the heavenly experience they’d shared in each others’ arms yesterday had made him realise how little he had to offer her.
She deserved someone who could truly appreciate her warmth and caring nature, and he knew he wasn’t that man for her or good father material for Marcus. He was going to have to find the courage to pull away from them soon—it was the only fair thing to do. But right now it seemed too cruel, especially as he was so touched by her evident concern on his behalf.
Instead, he said flatly, ‘I stayed very late at Barbara and Keith’s. She was unwell and I wasn’t prepared to leave her until she felt better. There was a full moon when I was driving home and that was why I saw what was happening down below on the beach.’
‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me about anything,’ she said grandly, getting to her feet.
She picked up the holdall that hi
s clothes were in. ‘I’m taking these back until tonight. It is too soon for you to be leaving after being operated on such a short time ago and I’m sure the doctors will agree with me when I tell them there is a change of plan. I’ll see you this evening.’
‘What about Marcus?’ he said as she was leaving the ward.
‘What about him? I’ll bring him with me, or ask Lucy to mind him. We managed all right before you came on the scene, you know, and will continue to do so now. And here’s another little item of news to cheer you up—the nurse at the desk in the big ward said that the press are coming to see you. If you can’t manage a smile for me, perhaps you’ll be able to dredge up one for them.’ With that, she swept out of his room, leaving him gaping at her cutting farewell, and went to find the doctor in charge. He agreed with her that Harry would be better staying there for a few more hours.
‘An amazing guy,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t care less about himself. Those kids were so lucky that it was someone like him who went to their assistance.’
By the time Phoebe reached the car park her righteous indignation was dwindling, but by no means gone. It was true what the other doctor had just said, but it was also true what she’d said to Harry. Though he might be attracted to her lack of suntan and smooth, pale skin, he was about to discover that she was no doormat—if he thought he could take her to heaven in his arms one day and then explain it away as a mistake the next, he had another think coming!
Everyone at the surgery was eager to know how he was when she got back in the middle of the morning and Leo asked, ‘Did you take him some clothes, Phoebe?’
The Village Nurse's Happy-Ever-After Page 9
