Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby

by Anne Fraser / Lynne Marshall

  ‘As a matter of fact, no. I haven’t had the time. I’d love to some time.’ One more thing to add to her steadily growing list. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Once or twice.’ He grinned. ‘One of my friends is having a party there in a few weeks’ time. You should come.’ It was another invitation, but Rose knew that Jonathan was just issuing them out of politeness. If she accepted, he’d probably be dismayed.

  Soon they were leaving London behind and passing over the countryside. A short time later they flew over a house bigger than most hotels Rose had stayed in and were touching down in what was the back garden, but which anywhere else would have been a park.

  ‘Oh, my word,’ Rose said as she stepped out of the helicopter. ‘The last time I saw a house like this it was in a film. How many people live here?’

  ‘Just Lord and Lady Hilton. His sons live in London. They come up when they can.’

  A man dressed in the traditional garb of a butler walked towards them. Rose smiled. It was just like being on a movie set.

  ‘Good afternoon, sir, miss,’ the butler said. ‘Lord and Lady Hilton are expecting you.’ He turned to Rose. ‘What name should I say?’

  ‘This is Miss Taylor, Goodall. She’s a nurse at the practice. Lady Hilton and Miss Taylor have already met.’

  ‘Lord Hilton is in his bedroom. Lady Hilton said she’d like a word before you go in to see him, if that’s all right?’ Goodall said.

  Jonathan chatted to the butler as they walked the few hundred yards to the front door. From the snippets of conversation Rose caught, it seemed they knew each other well. Following behind, Rose took in the formal garden with its neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds. Dotted throughout were nude sculptures, some modern, some more classic. It must have taken an army of gardeners, Rose reckoned, to keep it looking so perfect.

  Inside, the hall was twice as large as the one in the town house belonging to Jessamine. There was a grand central staircase in the middle of a polished marble floor. Someone had lit a fire in the huge fireplace that dominated one side of the hall and with the large bowls of brightly coloured flowers it had a cheerful air. Despite the grandeur, Rose knew immediately she was in someone’s much-loved home.

  Goodall showed them into a room which, while as grand as the hall, had been decorated in thoughtful, homely fashion. Large squashy couches with brightly coloured cushions and a rug that had seen better days added a splash of colour to the otherwise muted room. Light was flooding in from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the front garden, but a fire burned brightly in this room too. After the coolness outside, it was almost suffocating.

  Mr Chips jumped down from an armchair and pattered across to them, his tail wagging. Rose bent to pat him, and in return received ecstatic doggy kisses on her hand. In an armchair next to the window was Sophia Hilton. Her silver hair was perfectly coiffed but despite the heat in the room her face was pale. Rose was sure there were more lines around her eyes and mouth than there had been when they’d first met. She was dressed in thick stockings and a tweed skirt and the hand she held out to Jonathan had the slightest tremble. Rose knew immediately that this was a woman who was under enormous strain, but desperately trying not to show it.

  Jonathan bent down and kissed the older woman on each cheek.

  ‘Sophia, how are you? And Lord Hilton?’

  ‘Jonathan, dear boy. How good of you to come and see us. And Miss Taylor, an unexpected pleasure to see you again too. Jonathan told me you’re filling in for Vicki until she’s well enough to return.’ Her mouth trembled slightly. ‘Giles isn’t good, I’m afraid.’

  Jonathan pulled up a chair next to Lady Hilton and Rose sat on the sofa opposite. ‘Tell me what’s been happening,’ he said gently.

  ‘He’s fading. He hardly eats at all now. He says he has no appetite. He gets up for an hour or two but that’s all he can manage.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘We’re losing him, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You’re both still sure you don’t want to try another bout of chemotherapy? I could have him in hospital by this afternoon.’

  Lady Hilton shook her head regretfully. ‘He won’t hear of it, I’m afraid, and I have told him I’ll respect his wishes. That’s why I don’t want you to try and persuade him. He’s too weak to put up a fight, so he made me promise to speak to you before you saw him.’

  ‘The chemotherapy might help.’

  ‘Will it prolong his life?’

  Jonathan looked her directly in the eye. ‘I’m not going to lie to you. It might give him a little more time, ease his symptoms, but, no, the outcome will be the same.’

  ‘And the chemotherapy will make him feel even worse in the short term, won’t it?’

  ‘He didn’t react to it very well before. So, yes, I’m guessing he’ll feel even more rotten than he does right now.’

  ‘Then nothing’s changed since we last had this conversation. Except it’s getting closer.’

  ‘Have you thought any more about bringing in nurses to help? I thought Rose here might be able to convince you. She worked in general practice before she joined us in London.’

  Rose leaned forward. ‘If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see your husband and have a chat with him before I advise you. But Dr Cavendish is right, there are lots of options that would allow you to keep him at home but help you keep him comfortable at the same time.’

  ‘Of course.’ Lady Hilton stood. ‘I’ll take you both upstairs.’

  Rose and Jonathan found their patient sitting in a chair by the window with a rug over his knee. A book lay by his side, and a still full cup of tea sat ignored on the table next to him. His eyes were closed and his face had the grey gauntness that Rose had seen too often before. She knew immediately that Lord Hilton didn’t have much longer.

  His wife touched him gently on the shoulder.

  ‘Darling, it’s Jonathan and his nurse come to see how you are.’

  Eyes flickered open and as they focused on his wife, a look of such love that Rose had rarely seen filled the pale blue eyes. Her heart contracted.

  ‘Jonathan, my dear boy. How are you? And your family?’ The voice was weak but clear.

  ‘Father is always asking after you.’ As he spoke, Jonathan placed his fingers on the old man’s wrist.

  ‘Any word of getting married yet? Isn’t it time?’

  Jonathan laughed. ‘No. Can’t find a woman who is crazy enough to have me.’

  ‘What about this girl here?’ For a moment Rose squirmed. He couldn’t be alluding to her as a possible wife? The poor man must be confused.

  ‘This girl, as you put it, is my nurse. Victoria’s pregnant. Unfortunately she’s being very sick again so has to take time off. Rose is filling in for the time being.’

  Rose stepped closer so that she could be seen. ‘Dr Cavendish thought I might be able to help make you more comfortable—or at least suggest some things that could help.’

  Rose watched carefully as Jonathan finished his examination. While he was doing that she was assessing how Lord Hilton moved and how much pain he seemed to be in.

  ‘Why don’t we have a little chat while Jonathan talks to your husband?’ Rose said to Lady Hilton. ‘You can tell me what help you have at the moment.’

  Once they were back in the sitting room, Rose broached the subject of nursing care.

  ‘I don’t want strangers looking after him,’ Lady Hilton protested.

  ‘What about a night nurse at least?’ Rose suggested gently. ‘Someone to sit with him through the night so you can get a good sleep?’

  ‘There’s Goodall,’ Lady Hilton said firmly. ‘He’ll attend to Giles if he needs anything at night. He also helps him shave and wash. He’s been with him for thirty years and knows his ways.’

  Rose had to admit that having someone to help who Lord Hilton knew well would be far less stressful than bringing in new faces at this stage.

  ‘I know Dr Cavendish—Jonathan—is likely to suggest a morphine pump. That way the pai
n can be controlled. Will you consider it? You’ll need to have a nurse call at least every second day to check on it, but that shouldn’t be too intrusive.’

  Lady Hilton blinked furiously. ‘Why did Victoria have to be unwell now of all times? Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just being selfish. Of course, it’s important that she looks after herself now that she’s pregnant. But Giles knows her. He would have been happy to have Goodall fetch her from town every day.’

  ‘I’m sure there will be equally good nurses locally that would be happy to come to the house.’

  ‘That would mean interviewing people. It would be terribly time-consuming. I don’t want anything to interfere with the time we have left. I know there’s not much time.’ Her eyes locked onto Rose’s and she could see the spark of hope there. But just as quickly it was replaced with resignation. ‘You don’t have to pretend otherwise, my dear. I know it and Giles knows it.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Couldn’t you come? He’s met you and he seems to have taken to you. And Jonathan wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t think highly of you. We could arrange for you to be collected and brought back every day. Please say you’ll agree.’

  Although Rose felt for the older woman’s distress, she knew what she was suggesting would be impossible. Just as she was trying to find the words to let her down, Jonathan walked back into the room.

  ‘He’s sleeping now. Goodall and I helped him back into bed. I think he should have something more regular for the pain, however. I can come and see him whenever you want, but analgesia as and when he wants it would be better.’

  ‘Miss Taylor was just suggesting the very same thing. But she tells me a nurse will have to come in regularly to check the pump. I asked her whether she could come. What do you think, Johnny? Could she?’

  Jonathan looked at Rose. ‘I’m afraid I need her in London,’ he said.

  The old lady looked so woebegone that Rose couldn’t help herself. With Jenny manning the desk, she could come and help the Hiltons. It would keep her busy. She had too much time to brood as it was.

  ‘What about if I came after my shift? Would that work?’

  Jonathan frowned. ‘Would you excuse us for just a moment?’ he said, and taking Rose by the elbow steered her out of earshot.

  ‘I know you want to help, but don’t you have your own situation to think about? It’ll be too much.’ For a second Rose thought that somehow he had found out about her condition, even though she knew it was impossible. ‘Coming here and putting in a full day’s work before going home to help out with your father. I’ve your health to think about too. The last thing I need or want, is to have to find another nurse.’

  ‘It’s not as if I’m run off my feet at the surgery.’ Rose glanced across at Lady Hilton who was studiously looking out the window. ‘I just wanted to help. Anyway, there’s at least three free afternoons a week where you don’t have any patients. I know you keep them free for emergencies or unscheduled home visits, but so far they’ve been quiet and I’ve just been twiddling my thumbs. I could come here then.’

  Jonathan’s eyes followed hers. Despite the determined look and the upright posture, Lady Hilton needed help and they both knew it.

  ‘I’ll agree to it on one condition,’ Jonathan said. ‘You come here only on those free afternoons and on the other two we shuffle my schedule around so that there aren’t patients booked in for when you’re here. Jenny and I can cover the odd drop in or emergency between us. If that suits you, we have a deal.’ He didn’t need to say what they were both thinking. It was unlikely that the arrangement would be required beyond a few weeks at the most.

  He smiled sadly at Rose and her heart skipped a beat. ‘Thank you for offering. I’ve known Lord and Lady Hilton all my life. Anything that will make these last few weeks and days easier for them would mean a great deal to them…and to me.’

  Jonathan told Lady Hilton what they had agreed, emphasising that they still needed to get Jonathan’s schedule sorted out but that he didn’t think it would be a problem. The relief in her eyes brought a lump to Rose’s throat.

  Jonathan turned down Lady Hilton’s invitation to dinner. ‘Next time, I promise. But it’s getting late, and I really have to get Rose home. I’ll phone you tomorrow morning and let you know what we’ve managed to sort out between us.’

  The journey back in the helicopter was a more subdued affair. Rose found herself wondering about Jonathan. On the one hand, he seemed to like nothing better than to be partying along with his social set; on the other, as a doctor, he seemed to genuinely care about his patients. She had been guilty of making assumptions about him that appeared to be no more than figments of her imagination. In that regard she was no better than the press. She slid a glance in his direction. Why couldn’t she have met someone like him before? Before her world had been turned upside down? And why did she have the sinking sensation that what she was feeling was a good deal more than she should for her boss?

  Chapter Five

  ON SATURDAY morning, she was sitting reading to her father when there was a knock at the door. Rose glanced out of the window, surprised to see a large four-by-four parked outside. Baffled, she answered the door to find Jonathan standing there with a broad smile on his face. He was dressed in faded jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. It was the first time she had seen him in anything apart from his suit and if anything he looked even more handsome. Certainly more approachable.

  For once the sun was shining and although it was cool, there was a hint of summer in the air.

  Open-mouthed, Rose stood back and let Jonathan in.

  ‘Who is it, love?’ Her mother came to stand behind her.

  ‘It’s Dr Cavendish, Mum.’

  ‘Please call me Jonathan,’ he said, holding out his hand and smiling charmingly at her mother.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Rose asked, suddenly conscious of the small house with its comfortable but worn furnishings. Then, aware of how rude she sounded, she apologised. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just a little surprised to see you. I didn’t think you even knew where I lived.’

  Jonathan’s smile grew wider. ‘Your address was on your file.’ Then he frowned. ‘I should have phoned, but I thought we had an arrangement?’ In the cramped dimensions of the hall she could smell his aftershave.

  ‘Arrangement?’ Rose echoed.

  ‘The tickets to the match. Remember? I promised I’d find a way to get your father there. If he’d still like to go, that is.’

  Rose was bewildered. ‘You’ve come to take my father? Don’t you have a cricket match to go to?’

  ‘There will be other matches,’ he said dismissively, but Rose knew enough about cricket to know that despite his words he was giving up one of the most looked-forward-to events of the year. ‘I’m planning to go to a party afterwards. Perhaps you’ll come too?’

  Rose shook her head, still confused. He had given up his day to do something for her father, a man he’d never met, and he wanted her to go to a party. Her heart skipped a beat. ‘I couldn’t. I’ve nothing remotely suitable to wear. Besides, I’m needed here.’ It wasn’t the whole truth. Her father was improving daily and required only minimal help now. But her at one of Jonathan’s parties? Not on your life. What on earth would she have to say to his friends or them to her? The idea was ridiculous. Nevertheless, she had to admit to a small stab of regret. It had been ages since she’d been out. Besides, she had to admit that she was intensely curious about what sort of party it would be. Like everything else these days, it would be another new experience to add to her growing list.

  Suddenly aware that they were still standing in the small hall, Rose remembered her manners.

  ‘You’d better come in.’

  She ushered him into the small sitting room. Her parents looked up, curious.

  ‘Dad. This is Dr Cavendish. He’s come to ask if you’d like to go to the football match this afternoon.’

  Jonathan crossed the room and shook her father’s hand warmly. ‘I’m pleased to meet yo
u, Mr Taylor. Your daughter tells me you’re an Arsenal fan. Well, it so happens that I have tickets to the match today and I wondered if you’d like to come?’

  ‘That’s kind of you, son,’ Rose’s father said. His words were still slurred and Rose doubted that Jonathan would be able to understand what he was saying. ‘But my leg’s a problem. I don’t think I could get up the stairs.’ Although he was continuing to improve, pretty much managing to get himself washed and dressed, he had to lean heavily on a stick to walk. Rose doubted he’d be able to manage more than a few metres without a wheelchair.

  ‘I have a plan for that,’ Jonathan said. It seemed as if Rose had been wrong and that he could make out the words her father was trying to say. ‘If I told you that I thought Rose and I can manage to get you there and to your seat without too much trouble, what would you say?’

  Rose saw her father’s eyes light up and her heart ached for him. She remembered how he had taken her to football matches when she’d been young, hoisting her onto his shoulders so that she could see better. They had never missed a home match until she’d left for university in Scotland.

  ‘I don’t know, lad. Maybe you should take my Rose and go on your own. You’d enjoy it better.’

  ‘I’m not going to the match, Dad. Unless you go too. And I don’t think Dr Cavendish plans on staying. He has something else on.’

  ‘Did I say that?’ Jonathan asked innocently. ‘Can’t imagine why. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing, but I don’t care to go on my own. So you and Rose would be doing me a favour by coming with me.’

  ‘Go on, love,’ Rose’s mother prompted. ‘You haven’t been out of the house since…’ She paused and Rose guessed she still found it difficult to admit even to herself. ‘The stroke. A bit of fresh air will do you the world of good. And I could be doing with getting your father from under my feet for a few hours.’

  Rose knew her mother didn’t mean a word of it. Her parents still loved each other deeply. Her mother wanted to bring some joy back to her husband’s life. Rose also knew her father wouldn’t go without her.