Her Consultant Boss

by Joanna Neil

  She was surprised by the invitation, but perhaps he wanted to find out if there had been any more problems at the flat over the weekend. She shook her head. ‘No, that suits me fine.’

  He flicked the switch on his dictating machine, and made brief comments for his secretary to type up later. Then, after a minute or two, he looked up and said, ‘OK, that’s all done. Shall we go?’

  In the cafeteria, they filled trays with hot cups of coffee and plates of food, cheese salad for Megan and honey-baked gammon and pasta for Sam, then went to find a table. Over lunch, Sam asked her whether the locksmith had arrived to fit the padlock at the block of flats.

  ‘Yes, he came within the hour. Everything is perfectly safe now.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘I’m still quite surprised to find that you’re my landlord. How did it come about? I would have thought that simply being a consultant was enough, without the complication of having to deal with tenants alongside everything else. The boys getting into trouble can’t have been the first problem you’ve come across.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ He tipped his head back and swallowed some of his coffee, and she found herself watching the way his throat moved with a kind of unwilling fascination. ‘I’ve had quite a few to deal with since I became a property owner. I can’t say that I mind—most of the time they are minor problems and I can deal with them fairly easily.’

  ‘Even so, it’s a lot to take on.’ Megan speared red peppers and thin slices of chopped cucumber with her fork. ‘Do you have other properties to oversee?’

  ‘No, just the one. I’ve owned the building for the last five years, ever since my grandmother died and left it to me.’

  Megan frowned. ‘To you, and not to your parents?’

  He flicked her a glance. ‘My parents died when I was twelve years old, and my grandmother brought me up.’

  Her expression changed to one of concern. ‘I’m sorry. That must have been terribly sad for you.’

  Sam nodded. ‘It was. They were involved in an accident—but at least it was quick, from all accounts. My grandmother took me in without hesitation and I’m forever grateful to her for putting up with me. I was a rebellious child back then, and it must have been difficult for her, taking me on. I felt that life had treated me badly, taking my parents away, and I remember that I wanted to kick out at anything and everything—except my grandmother, of course. I worshipped her, and she helped me to heal.’

  Megan sent him a thoughtful glance. ‘Is that why you became interested in psychiatry? Because of your background?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. I know what it’s like to feel isolated, to feel that the whole world is against you. When I grew up I realised that I wanted to do my best to help people who felt that they couldn’t cope with what life threw at them.’

  ‘That’s a tall order in itself,’ she commented. ‘Haven’t you made things difficult for yourself, taking on the job of a landlord as well? You could have sold the property.’

  ‘I could have, but it’s a continuing link with my grandmother, and I don’t want to lose it.’ He glanced at her thoughtfully. ‘How are you finding things there? It’s early days, since you’ve only just moved in, but do you think you’ll be able to settle?’

  She laid down her fork for a moment and nodded. ‘I’m sure I shall. I’ll need time to get it the way I want it, of course, but there seems to be plenty of room for everything, and it has a comfortable feel about it.’ She darted him a quick look. ‘Had the place been converted flats when your grandmother owned it, or have you made substantial changes?’

  ‘I’ve made changes. It was my grandmother’s home—it was my home—but in reality it was far too big for the two of us in the later years. Originally, there was my grandfather, my mother and her brothers and sisters living there. But as time went by, they all went their separate ways.’

  ‘Wouldn’t your aunts and uncles have expected to inherit?’ Megan asked. Then, realising that she was prying, she clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘there I go again, stepping in where I shouldn’t. It’s really none of my business.’

  He gave a crooked smile. ‘It’s all right. I can understand your interest. It’s true it was only right that they should have had part of my grandmother’s inheritance. In fact, a fair amount of money went to them—my grandparents were reasonably wealthy, with business interests abroad and at home. Two of my uncles are carrying those on, quite successfully. So, you see, there weren’t really any difficulties of that sort after she died. Just as well, really, because, knowing my grandmother, she would have been very upset if there had been any trouble. As it was, everyone felt that they had been treated properly.’

  By now, they had both finished their meal, and it was almost time to begin work again. As they walked back to the unit, Megan’s bleeper went off, causing her to frown.

  ‘It looks as though there’s a phone call for me,’ she muttered. ‘I’d better go and see who it is.’

  She stopped by the reception desk to take the call. It was Tom, returning her message.

  ‘You said that you wanted to meet up some time—is there a problem? Has something cropped up?’

  ‘No, Tom, nothing out of the ordinary.’ As she spoke she was conscious of Sam by her side. He had stopped to talk to the girl behind the desk.

  ‘I’m glad that you rang me,’ she said quickly. ‘How are you? I’ve been wondering how you’re getting on.’

  ‘I’m OK. Busy at work as usual, but I think I can get away at lunchtime tomorrow. We could eat at the Lakeside, if you want. Shall I come and pick you up—I take it that you’ll be at the hospital?’

  ‘That sounds great. It’s one of my favourite places. Yes, I am at the hospital. Would you mind picking me up from there? We’ll have more time to talk if I’m not struggling to find a parking place in town. It will be good to see you again.’

  They talked for a while longer, and when Megan finally cut the call she saw that the girl behind the desk was talking to someone who needed directions and Sam was nowhere to be seen.

  Glancing quickly at her watch, she realised that it was almost time for the afternoon clinic. She hurried towards the unit and found Sam in his office, engrossed in paperwork in readiness for the start of the session.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.’

  ‘It’s the patients who are waiting,’ he said coolly, adding his signature to a document in a striking black swirl.

  He glanced through the papers in the tray on his desk. ‘I don’t see the lab-test results for young Matthew,’ he remarked. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘I don’t have them yet,’ she admitted cautiously.

  He frowned darkly. ‘Then perhaps you should go down to the lab and chase them up.’

  ‘I… I’ll try,’ she said, flustered. ‘I haven’t had time to follow it up yet, what with sitting in on this morning’s clinic and everything else.’

  ‘I expect you to do better than that, Dr Llewellyn,’ he remarked. ‘I want you to produce them, not give me excuses. I have a clinic to run, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t have time to wait while you dither about.’

  ‘I’ll do it right away,’ she muttered, backing out of the room.

  She was bewildered by his change of attitude towards her. Just a short while ago he had been perfectly easy to get along with, but now he was a different man. What on earth had she done to bring on this black mood?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TOM picked Megan up from work next day as they had arranged, and they drove to the Lakeside hotel.

  ‘Are we going to be able to get a table?’ Megan asked. It was a popular venue, one of the best eating places around, and it was likely to be full at this time of day. It wasn’t too far from the centre of town and was set in its own grounds so that there was a wealth of trees and shrubs and flower-beds that made it especially attractive.

  ‘I booked ahead,’ Tom said. ‘I thought that would be best.’r />
  A waiter showed them to a table by a window in the corner of the room, discreetly screened by a bamboo trellis. From here, they had a view of the lake that gave the hotel its name.

  Glancing around, Megan was startled to see that Sam Benedict was at a table not too far away. She recognised his companions, two members of the hospital management team. Had they decided to discuss business in more conducive surroundings? Perhaps Sam had ideas for changing the set-up of the unit—that wouldn’t surprise her for one minute. Even though she had only known him for a short time, she guessed that he had a zest for life and was always considering new ways to organise and improve things.

  It seemed that he had noticed her, too, because his gaze rested consideringly on Tom and then narrowed on her. She felt uncomfortable under that careful scrutiny. Was she still in his bad books? The laboratory was under-staffed and she hadn’t been able to track down the results he had asked for.

  He inclined his head briefly in acknowledgement and then looked away and became engrossed in conversation with the two men at his table.

  Megan tried to gather her thoughts. ‘How is work going?’ she asked Tom, after the waiter had taken their order. ‘You said that you were busy. Is that making things difficult for you?’ Tom worked for a software company that had outlets all over the country, and she recalled that he often had to work overtime, trying to smooth out glitches in production.

  ‘We’ve had some problems with a project that we’re working on,’ he said, taking a bottle of wine from an ice bucket on the table and pouring out a glass of the amber liquid for each of them. ‘It’s supposed to be finalised by summer and we’re working all the hours we can to get the problem fixed—if we don’t get it sorted, the whole order might be cancelled.’

  Megan grimaced. ‘That must be a worrying prospect. Has all this extra work come about since you split up with Jenny, or is it something new?’

  ‘It’s an ongoing problem. We’re short-staffed and tempers are frayed.’

  ‘Is that part of the reason that you and Jenny have split up? You know that she’s missing you?’

  ‘Is she?’ His mouth made a bitter line. ‘I doubt it. All we ever do these days is argue. I’ve tried to make a go of things, but nothing makes any difference. We just don’t seem to get along any more, and that’s why we’re living apart. It’s better this way, Megan. We both need time to sort ourselves out.’

  ‘The children would like to have you at home.’

  For a moment he appeared wistful, and she guessed he was thinking about them, but then he shook his head and said briskly, ‘I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Megan, but it’s no use. Hearing the two of us rowing all the time isn’t going to do them any good.’

  She had hoped that she could persuade him to go back, but nothing she said made any difference.

  ‘You know Ben is having some problems?’

  He nodded. ‘Jenny says she thinks he can’t hear very well.’ His shoulders lifted briefly. ‘I don’t know about that—it seems to me that he’s nearly always been an odd sort of child, remote sometimes and difficult. I love him to bits but I don’t know what to do any more. Nothing I do or say seems to make any difference. I can’t get through to him. Jenny seems to handle him OK. Perhaps they have a special kind of rapport.’

  ‘You know, if you and Jenny want to spend some time together, just the two of you, alone, so that you can talk things through, I could babysit for you. It makes me so sad to see you separated like this. You always seemed so well suited.’

  Tom’s eyes were bleak. ‘Not any more. It all got lost somewhere along the way.’

  Megan sipped at her wine. It was disheartening to realise that there was nothing she could to change things. If Jenny and Tom, who had always seemed to have such a solid relationship, couldn’t get along, what hope was there for anybody else?

  They finished their meal, and talked of other things. Megan asked him about where he was living, and how he was managing, and he made her smile with stories of his chaotic attempts to cook for himself in the place he was renting, where he had a minuscule kitchen.

  The time went by quickly, but after a while she glanced at her watch and gave a small yelp.

  ‘I didn’t realise it was so late. I shall have to get back to the hospital, or I shall be in trouble.’ Looking around, she saw that Sam and his companions had already left.

  ‘I’ll get the bill,’ Tom said. ‘You must keep in touch with me, Megan. We’ll do this again some time soon.’

  Traffic was bad on the journey back to the hospital. They found themselves stuck behind a tractor on one stretch of road, and Megan was beginning to feel anxious about the time.

  Eventually, Tom dropped her off at the main door of the hospital, and she stood by the tubs of brightly coloured spring flowers that decorated the entrance and waved goodbye to him.

  Sam was already at his desk in the office when she returned to the unit and she tried to slide by without drawing attention to herself. She failed miserably. He looked up as she was making a feeble attempt to merge with the wall and pinioned her with his cool grey glance.

  Her smile was fractured. ‘I’m not late, am I?’ she murmured uneasily. ‘The traffic was terrible and we got stuck behind this tractor, and—’

  ‘Spare me the excuses, please,’ he said grittily. ‘I really don’t want to hear them. As it is, you managed to get here by the skin of your teeth.’ He sent her a blistering look. ‘I do appreciate that you want to socialise at lunchtime, but if it’s going to be so difficult for you to drag yourself away from your friend that it causes you problems, perhaps you would do better to arrange your meetings with him for after work.’

  ‘I…um… You’re probably right. I—I’ll just get on and look through my case notes,’ she managed weakly, edging towards the table at the far side of the room.

  ‘What an excellent idea,’ he said with pointed sarcasm.

  Megan opened her mouth to answer him, but he was already opening another file, and she realised that any further interruption would only irritate him more. Hurriedly, she made her escape and buried her head in paperwork.

  At the end of the afternoon, she decided to try the laboratory once more.

  This time, she was successful, and she hurried back to Sam’s room with young Matthew’s test results.

  He had just finished seeing a patient, and when she knocked and walked into the room, he was looking out of the window over the mist-clad mountains. He stretched, easing the tension in his shoulders, and she watched the play of muscles as they rippled tautly beneath his blue linen shirt. Her throat closed. She wasn’t sure that she liked the effect he had on her. Why was he so intensely male?

  ‘Ahem…’ she coughed politely, and he turned around.

  ‘Was there something you wanted?’

  ‘If you’re not too busy? I thought you might like to see Matthew Hadleigh’s results.’

  He glanced at her sharply. ‘It’s about time—he’s coming in again soon.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, I realise that. It’s just that one of the laboratory technicians is off sick, and another is on maternity leave. That’s why things are a bit slow at the moment.’

  He thrust out a hand for the papers, and scanned the notes quickly. Then he looked up and his mouth curved in a smile that melted the craggy harshness of his features and set her heart thumping.

  ‘You were right, it appears. According to these results, the boy’s suffering from temporal lobe epilepsy. Well spotted, Megan.’

  Her confidence grew under his praise. ‘It just struck me that his inattention might be due to seizures of some sort. When I was talking to him, he seemed like a perfectly normal little boy. Some of his mannerisms were a little bit strange, but they seemed to fit a pattern. I came across this kind of thing when I was doing my paediatric stint.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘Did you have the same idea?’ It occurred to her that he had been perfectly content for her to order the tests.

  He nodded. �
��I did wonder. I’m glad that you took the trouble to look at all the alternatives. Sometimes illnesses that appear to be psychiatric in nature can actually be due to a medical problem. We need to keep an open mind all the time so that we don’t miss anything.’

  ‘You said that he’s coming in again soon. Wouldn’t that have caused a problem? We couldn’t be certain of having these results in time.’

  ‘I could always have cancelled, I suppose. His mother is particularly anxious, and I didn’t want this episode to drag on. Perhaps you’ll sit in on the meeting when they come in to see me?’

  ‘I’d like that. Thank you.’

  Sam came and sat on the edge of his desk, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time, and asked, ‘How are things back at the flat? Are you comfortable there?’

  ‘I’m fine. It will be good when the weather warms up, and I can sit on the balcony and look out at the mountains and lakes. Is that what you used to do when you lived there?’

  ‘I did. Actually, your flat is where my bedroom and study used to be. I used the living room as an office, and I did all my work there when I was preparing for exams.’

  The thought that she was sleeping in his bedroom sent a sudden tide of heat rippling through her. Recovering, she asked huskily, ‘Do you miss it?’

  ‘Sometimes, yes. I think about the good times with my grandmother and my grandad and my uncles. It was a happy household, for the most part. My grandparents always had time for all of us. They were good listeners.’

  ‘Where do you live now? Wherever it is, it must be something of a change from such a huge place as you were used to.’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘That’s true enough, but I like living where I am at the moment. My place overlooks the sea. It’s close to a lovely little beach, and I can go for a walk in the morning and look at the rock pools and see what the tide has brought in. It’s very therapeutic. You should try it some time.’