by Joanna Neil
All the timbers were scorched and the furniture was blackened and strewn with shards of glass that must have come from the windows that had shattered under the fierce heat that had been generated. Everywhere was awash with water from the fire hoses.
It was plain to see that the fire had been disastrous.
‘I wonder whether the other flats were damaged,’ she said flatly.
He grimaced. ‘Possibly not. This one probably bore the brunt of the fire because your window overlooked the place where the car was parked. I’ll check up in a minute or two.’ He studied her features cautiously. ‘Are you all right?’
Megan was numb inside, but she managed to nod. ‘Perhaps I should be asking you that question,’ she said shakily. ‘You’ve only just had this property renovated, and now it’s been ruined. All the furniture has been destroyed, too. I’m so sorry, Sam—it must be a terrible blow for you.’
‘At least you’re safe, and so are all the other tenants. They were all outside the building when the fire engine came along. It could have been so much worse, and poor Jack is the one who is suffering. That makes all this seem somehow not to matter.’
‘You’re right, of course.’ She looked around and said helplessly, ‘I don’t know where to start with the clearing up.’
‘You don’t have to start anywhere. I’ll arrange for someone to come in and put things right.’ He gave her a gentle smile and a little squeeze. ‘You’ve had more than enough for one day. Why don’t you go and pack a few belongings into a suitcase? You can’t stay here, and you may as well take with you whatever you’re going to need for the next week or so.’
She sighed. ‘It’s true. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. I’d better find myself a hotel room,’ she said. ‘I can’t disturb Jenny at this time of night and, anyway, she won’t be able to put me up without disturbing the boys. She’s decorated the room I was using, and now Josh has a bedroom of his own. They wouldn’t take kindly to having to share again.’
‘They won’t have to,’ he said briskly. ‘You can stay with me. Get your things together, and let’s get out of here.’
Megan frowned. ‘Stay with you?’
Sam smiled. ‘That’s what I said. My house is big enough and you can stay in my guest room. I think you’ll find it comfortable, and it seems the best thing to do in the circumstances. None of this is your fault, and you shouldn’t have to waste time looking for accommodation.’
‘But I—’
‘Never mind “but”.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, pushing her in the direction of her bedroom. ‘Go and put a few things into a bag while I go and check up on the other residents.’
She started to object, but he was already marching out of the door and she realised the futility of her protests. He wasn’t going to listen. She had seen him in this mood before, and she knew that once he had made up his mind, that was it.
Going into her bedroom, she braced herself to get on with it.
Within half an hour they were on the road, heading towards Sam’s house. ‘Everyone else seems to have got by without any harm,’ he told her. ‘The damage seems to have been confined to your section of the building, which is a blessing of sorts, I suppose.’
‘What will you do?’ she asked. ‘Are you covered by insurance?’
‘I am. Don’t worry yourself about it. You’re the one who’s been put out, and I want to make it up to you. You must feel free to stay at my house for as long as it takes to get things straight. I don’t know how long that will be, but I’ll do my best to hurry the work along.’
It was dark by the time they arrived at his house, but there was a lamp glowing in the porch, highlighting the stone-coloured brickwork and Georgian windows. Megan saw that there were white-painted shutters by the windows and hanging baskets filled with spring flowers that overflowed and tumbled bright colour over the walls. There were two sloping roofs that gave the house a distinctive, pleasing appearance, and one wall was covered with red-gold ivy.
‘It’s a beautiful house,’ Megan breathed softly. The sound of the sea drifted on the air, the gentle lap of waves rolling onto the shore, and she remembered that he had said he walked on the beach in the mornings. ‘How close is the sea?’
‘The back of the house overlooks the beach,’ he said, unlocking the front door and ushering her inside. ‘We’re quite high up here on a little promontory, and you go down a few steps to reach the sand. It’s quite sheltered, and the beach is private.’ He urged her towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll make us a hot drink, and then I’ll show you around the house. It’s too late to look around outside, but we can do that tomorrow.’
The kitchen was delightful, a blend of golden oak units and glass-fronted cupboards, and she sat with him at the central breakfast bar, sipping at her drink while the troubles of the day melted away.
After a while, a yawn escaped her, and his mouth curved into a faint smile as she did her best to disguise it.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, ‘but I’m unbelievably tired.’
‘I’m not surprised. You’ve been hard at work all day, and this evening has been more than eventful.’ He took her empty cup from her. ‘Come on, I’ll show you to your room.’
Sam led her upstairs to the guest room, and she looked around it with genuine appreciation. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said softly. It was furnished with beech-wood furniture, curtained glass doors hid ample closets, and there was a large divan bed in the centre of one wall.
He showed her the en suite bathroom and said, ‘I hope there’s everything that you need in here, but if anything is missing just let me know.’
‘Everything is just fine, thank you,’ she said with a smile. ‘You’ve been very kind to me, and I really am grateful.’
His eyes darkened, and he reached out and trailed a finger lightly along her cheek, his thumb tilting her chin. Megan registered his touch with a quiver of warm sensation that rippled through her from head to toe. ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he murmured. ‘Try to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
She watched him go and wondered whether she would ever get to sleep now that her senses had been so thoroughly awakened by that disturbingly feather-light contact. He had meant nothing by it, of course, except a fleeting gesture of friendship, but her cheek still tingled in remembrance.
In fact, she fell into a blissful sleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillows, and in the morning she was startled awake by a rapping at the door.
‘Are you awake, Megan?’ Sam asked briskly. ‘Breakfast’s on the table, and time’s getting on.’
She looked around, bleary-eyed, and wondered where she was.
Sam said again, but louder this time, ‘I said, are you awake? Do I need to come in and get you up?’
Heaven forbid. She wasn’t wearing more than a thin sleeveless shift. She found her voice and mumbled hurriedly, ‘I’m awake. I’ll be with you in a minute.’ She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard a soft, scornful laugh and then the sound of his footsteps as he moved away from the door. Swiftly, she flung herself out of bed and got ready to face the morning.
‘You’re too late to sample the beach,’ he commented when she finally made an appearance, ‘but you’ll be able to see it from the breakfast room. I wouldn’t take too long over your food if I were you. We’re supposed be at work shortly and I expect to be there on time.’
‘I’m sorry. I had no idea it was so late,’ she tried to excuse herself. ‘I’m used to the noise of traffic, living near to town. It’s so quiet here. I must have slept like a log.’
She guessed he didn’t think much of her explanation, and she gulped her breakfast in double quick time so as not to delay him any more.
Sam drove her to the hospital, and as they arrived there, Megan saw that David and James were crossing the car park. They watched her get out of Sam’s car and exchanged knowing glances. Biting her lip, she threw Sam a surreptitious glance. He had seen them,
too, and he must have noticed their reaction. He didn’t look pleased—in fact, he was scowling, his eyes darkening as his glance followed the two junior doctors.
She forgot about the incident during the course of the morning. Sam sent her to see Sarah Danvers, the anorexic girl, to check up on her progress. The girl wasn’t making much headway, and Megan was disappointed that the treatment didn’t seem to be having any effect.
‘I spoke to the nurse who’s overseeing Sarah’s treatment,’ Megan reported back to Sam at lunchtime. ‘Sarah eats what is put before her, but the staff suspect that she’s making herself sick so that she isn’t putting on any more weight. It’s worrying because she’s just skin and bone.’
‘Did you talk to Sarah?’
‘Yes, of course I did. She was very anxious, and she seemed to be very weak and lacking in energy, which is what you might expect. I got the impression that she feels she has to live up to the standards set by her parents, that she feels the need to achieve something—possibly that’s why she went in for gymnastics. It was something that she was very good at. She tried very hard to be the best in her class, and gymnastics became something of an obsession.’
‘Perhaps, by keeping her weight down, she feels that she’s in control of at least one aspect of her life,’ Sam suggested.
‘That’s the conclusion that I came to. I put it to her, and I said that I wondered whether she was perhaps being too hard on herself. No one can be perfect, and no one should expect that of someone else. Her parents want the best for her, but Sarah has to accept herself and live for herself, not for others.’
Sam leaned back in his chair and studied her. ‘What was her reaction to that?’
‘I’m not sure. She looked thoughtful, and I hope she’s going to spend some time thinking about what I said.’
‘She’ll probably do that.’ He glanced at the door as Julie Neville knocked and came into the room.
‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything,’ Julie said, looking from one to the other.
‘That’s all right, Julie,’ Sam answered. ‘What was it that you wanted?’
‘It’s about the notes you asked me to jot down. I have them ready and I’d like to talk to you about them if you have a moment.’
Sam looked at Megan. ‘I think we’ve finished for now, haven’t we?’
Megan left them to it. She would grab something to eat and then give Jenny a ring. She hadn’t told her yet about the fire, and Jenny would need to know how to get in touch now that she wasn’t at the flat.
Julie appeared in the office after lunch, just as Megan was putting the phone down. The conversation she’d had with Jenny lingered in her thoughts, and worried her. Jenny had not been in the best frame of mind. She was upset about the break-up of her marriage and she had been close to tears. Megan did her best to comfort her, but it wasn’t easy, and she decided that she would go and visit her after work.
Julie said cautiously, ‘Are you all right? You don’t look too happy about things. Is anything wrong?’
‘I’m fine, thank you. Just a family matter, that’s all.’ She drew herself up and said carefully, ‘How did your meeting go?’
‘Very well, thanks.’
She wasn’t offering any more information, and Megan said, ‘You seem to have settled in very well here. Is the job everything you wanted?’
Julie nodded. ‘I love it here. I get on so well with Sam…Dr Benedict, I mean. I find him so easy to talk to, and he always listens to what I have to say.’
She picked up a file from the desk and threw out casually, ‘He told me about the calamity at your flat. That must have been a terrible business for you. It’s so good of him to put himself out by giving you a place to stay while the repairs are being done. It could have been difficult for him—after all, people do talk, and they sometimes come to the wrong conclusion. I think he’s very conscious of that. James and David got the wrong end of the stick straight away, and he’s made it clear to them, to all of us, that there’s absolutely nothing going on between you. Of course, he feels responsible for you, being his tenant. After all, he could hardly see you put out onto the street.’
‘I’m very grateful to him for what he’s done,’ Megan agreed in an even tone. ‘He’s helped me out of a very difficult situation. I expect it will only be for a short time.’
She had known this morning that Sam didn’t like the gossiping that would follow. He had a position of authority to keep up here at the hospital, and she didn’t blame him for letting everyone know what the situation was. Somehow, though, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment that he had underlined their lack of a relationship so definitely. He had been so kind to her, so caring, and perhaps, deep down, she’d hoped that there might one day be something more between them, a hint of promise for the future.
It wasn’t to be…she knew that in her heart of hearts, and he had made it clear that they had to work together and they should keep things on a professional footing between them. He was right, of course he was right, and she had her own reservations about getting involved. Even the most loving of relationships could go awry and she was very wary of getting hurt. It was just that her heart didn’t follow her mind’s advice and kept getting in the way.
Julie took the file and went out of the room, and Megan went back to thinking about Jenny and her problem. It was safer than concentrating on her own worries. She decided to ring Tom.
‘Shall we meet up again?’ Tom asked. ‘You can let me know how the children are getting along. It’s difficult for me to talk to Jen some days. She gets harassed, and I know that Ben can be a problem. I don’t know what to do about him, but perhaps you have some ideas about what would help him.’
‘I’d like that, Tom,’ she said. ‘I’m going over to my mother’s house at the weekend, but I’ll be free for lunch on Tuesday next week. Perhaps we could meet up then?’
‘That sounds fine to me. I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Good, that’s settled, then.’ Smiling, she put down the receiver. Looking up, she saw that Sam had come into the office. She coloured slightly because, from his expression, she wondered if he minded her making private calls on the office phone.
‘I would have used my mobile,’ she explained, ‘but the battery seems to be on the blink.’
‘You don’t have to make excuses to me,’ he said curtly. ‘Though I wouldn’t have thought that the office was the best place to conduct your private life.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she muttered, and wondered why it was that she was always on the defensive when he was around.
‘I suggest we get on with the work we’re supposed to be doing,’ he said pithily, and she nodded mutely and braced herself for the afternoon ahead.
Mollie Clarke, the girl with the obsessive-compulsive disorder, was not in a very good state of mind. She was still recovering from the overdose she had taken, and the nursing staff had urged her to spend time in the day room. She was pacing the floor when Sam and Megan went to see her, walking in a rigid, square formation, and clearly she had developed this into a ritual.
She counted out the steps she was making before she looked up at them. ‘I can’t see you now,’ she said anxiously. ‘I have to straighten those chairs.’ She waved a hand towards the cushioned seating that lined one wall. ‘People keep moving them, and I have to put them right.’
‘What will happen if you can’t straighten them?’ Sam asked.
Mollie began to tremble. ‘I don’t know, but things go wrong. I need to make sure everything is right.’
‘And when they are perfectly straight, will everything work out all right then?’
‘Yes, yes, I think so. You must let me get on.’
‘All right, go ahead. I was hoping that we could go to my consulting room to talk, but since there’s no one else here except Dr Llewellyn, perhaps you wouldn’t mind talking to me in here?’
Mollie straightened a row of chairs and checked that they were all in line. Then she start
ed on the row opposite on the other side of the room. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Your family? How things are at home? What sort of things do you like doing? Just generally a little about yourself.’
Mollie went back to the original line of chairs and checked them again. ‘Could we sit down?’ Sam interrupted. ‘Just for a few minutes?’
A look of panic crept over Mollie’s face, but she sat down all the same, looking edgy and nervous.
‘Tell me about your family,’ Sam asked. ‘Who lives at home with you?’
‘There’s just my mother and my sister.’
‘What about your father? Doesn’t he live at home?’
Mollie shook her head and looked as though she was going to cry. Megan could see that her hands were moving desperately against the soft fabric of her dressing-gown, as though seeking comfort.
‘Are your parents divorced?’ Megan asked quietly.
‘No.’ The word came out as a whisper. ‘He had an accident.’ She was shaking visibly, and Megan felt intensely sorry for her.
‘What kind of an accident?’ Sam persisted. ‘Did it happen at home?’
‘He fell… Down the stairs. It was awful.’ Agitated, Mollie jumped to her feet and started pulling at the chairs. ‘Look, I knew they weren’t right. Now I have to start all over again.’ Tears were trickling down her cheeks and the shaking was much worse.
‘We won’t disturb you any more this afternoon,’ Sam said gently. ‘I can see that you’re upset. I’d like to come and talk to you again soon, though. Perhaps tomorrow.’
‘Yes, tomorrow.’ Mollie turned away from them and went back to what she had been doing when they’d come into the room.
Sam and Megan walked out into the corridor. ‘What do you think?’ she asked. ‘She became very upset when she talked about her father. Do you think that might be the key to what’s troubling her?’
‘I imagine so. We’ll have to do some checking, and find out what has happened to him. Mrs Clarke didn’t say very much about him, only that he was ill and in hospital, and that he had been ill for several months. Like Mollie, she became upset when she talked about him.’
