The Police Doctor's Discovery

by Laura MacDonald

  He stood up and looked down at her and Rachel felt her insides churn. With a sigh she also stood up. ‘Of course it was good, Nick,’ she said softly. It was no good denying it—his memories would be the same as hers. ‘It was very good, you know it as well as I do, but I still don’t think that alone is a reason for a repeat performance. There has to be more to a relationship than good sex.’

  ‘That may or may not be true.’ He shrugged. ‘But I say that it’s a very good place to start.’ Reaching out his hand, he very gently stroked the side of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. It was almost her undoing, almost had her begging him to stay, so it was probably just as well that after that he moved towards the door.

  She followed him into the hall and when he paused at the front door she leaned past him and opened it. Once again they were close, so close that she caught the male tang of him—a heady mixture of soap, aftershave, leather and something else, something indefinable, the very essence of the man—as for a moment she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Once again she was forced to hold herself firmly in check to restrain her desire when really she would have liked nothing better than to wind her arms around his neck, sink her fingers into his hair and press her body against his.

  ‘Don’t forget the chain,’ he said, touching the brass door chain with his fingers.

  ‘I won’t,’ she replied, realising that because of the nature of her thoughts she sounded a little breathless and hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  ‘Goodnight, Rachel,’ he said softly. ‘Thanks for the tea.’

  ‘Goodnight, Nick.’ She watched as he walked out to his car then, as he unlocked it with the remote control and opened the door, she glanced along the road towards the cathedral. The car that had been there before was once again parked by the kerb a couple of houses away—at least, she thought it was the same car. It certainly looked the same, although it was hard to tell in the dark. This time, however, it wasn’t parked directly under the streetlamp so it wasn’t possible to tell whether or not anyone was sitting inside as there had been before. As Nick started his engine she looked back at his car and was just in time to see him raise one hand in farewell. Quickly she did the same then, waiting only long enough to see the red tail lights of his car as it drew away, she closed the front door, locked it and secured the chain.

  Wandering back into the sitting room, she asked herself if she wasn’t being a fool. Really and truly, if she was completely honest with herself, she had wanted Nick to stay, so if that was the case why had she acted like some silly immature teenager and sent him away? He must have thought that she hadn’t grown up at all in the years since they’d last seen each other. He’d thought it was simply her relationship with Jeremy that prevented her from renewing any sort of relationship with him, but deep down Rachel knew it was more than that—deep down she knew that she couldn’t bear to go through a second rejection from Nick.

  Picking up the tray, she carried it out to the kitchen and set it down on the worktop. Maybe it wouldn’t be like that this time, maybe Nick had matured and would want a more committed relationship. But on the other hand, and given his track record, it was more than likely that he hadn’t. With a sigh she stacked the mugs into the dishwasher then switched out the kitchen light before going up the stairs to bed.

  Sleep didn’t come easily that night for as she tossed and turned for at least a couple of hours, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like if she’d allowed Nick to stay.

  * * *

  ‘Now that I have all the test results I’m going to arrange for you to see a cardiologist.’ It was the following Monday morning and Georgie had come into the centre, together with Harvey, at Rachel’s request in order to discuss the tests that had recently been carried out.

  ‘Is it anything serious?’ For once Harvey Reynolds’s blue eyes were clouded.

  ‘I hope not,’ Rachel replied, ‘but I want to be certain. I’ll refer you to Edward Drummond.’

  ‘I know Ted Drummond,’ Harvey said thoughtfully. ‘We play golf together.’

  ‘Well, there you are,’ said Rachel with a smile, rising to her feet as Georgie and her father did likewise. ‘It shouldn’t take long for the appointment to come through. In the meantime, I want you to watch your diet—keep to the low-fat one we talked about and keep up your exercise.’

  ‘I’ll make sure of that,’ said Georgie.

  As Rachel opened the door the intercom buzzed on her desk. ‘Will you excuse me?’ she said, and with a quick glance at Georgie she added, ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Bye, Rachel,’ said Georgie, ‘and thanks for everything.’

  ‘Rachel,’ said Danielle through the intercom, ‘there’s been a delivery down here for you.’

  ‘Really? I’ll come down,’ Rachel replied. ‘Do I have any more patients?’

  ‘No, Mr Reynolds was the last.’

  By the time Rachel reached Reception Georgie and her father had left. ‘So what is it?’ she asked, leaning over the desk.

  ‘These,’ Danielle replied. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’ From under the desk she brought out a bunch of yellow rosebuds wrapped in tissue paper.

  ‘Oh.’ Rachel stared at them for a moment. Yellow roses were her favourite flowers.

  ‘There’s a card,’ said Danielle.

  There was indeed a tiny envelope nestled deep inside the flowers and when Rachel drew it out she saw it had her name, Dr Beresford, written on it. She withdrew the card inside, which simply said, ‘For Rachel with love’.

  ‘We didn’t see who delivered them, did we, Julie?’ Danielle turned to her colleague.

  ‘No,’ Julie replied. ‘They were just left on the desk, none of us saw who by, but it doesn’t look like they were delivered by a florist, does it? If they had they would have been done up in yards of Cellophane with pink ribbons. Probably from a grateful patient.’

  ‘Or a secret admirer,’ said Danielle with a wistful sigh.

  Rachel pulled a face then, taking the flowers, went slowly back up the stairs to her consulting room. There was only one person who knew that yellow roses were her favourite flowers, the same person who had bought her yellow roses years ago when she’d heard she’d got into medical school. Even Jeremy didn’t know she liked yellow roses. Somehow she’d never been able to tell him, afraid that he, too, would buy them for her, knowing that if he did, somehow it wouldn’t be the same.

  She couldn’t quite believe that he had remembered after all these years. Sitting at her desk, she lifted the receiver and dialled a number. A woman’s voice at the other end told her she was through to Westhampstead Police Headquarters. ‘Could I speak to DCI Kowalski, please?’ she said.

  ‘May I ask who’s calling?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Dr Beresford,’ she replied. ‘Rachel Beresford.’

  ‘I’ll put you through.’

  ‘Rachel?’ Nick sounded surprised—hadn’t he thought she’d phone to thank him? He also, she thought, sounded pleased.

  ‘Nick,’ she said, and found she was struggling to keep her voice casual. ‘I just wanted to thank you. It was a lovely thought. I’m amazed you remembered.’

  There was a long silence from the other end of the phone then she heard Nick’s voice again, slightly mystified this time. ‘Rachel, I’m sorry but you have the advantage over me. Just what is it that I’m supposed to have remembered?’

  ‘That yellow roses are my favourite flowers?’ Even as she said it she had the feeling that somehow something was wrong here.

  ‘You’ve received some yellow roses?’ asked Nick.

  ‘Yes, they were left at the reception desk this morning.’ She swallowed, beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry I can’t lay claim to having left them...’

  ‘Oh, it’s all right,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I thought they were from you. I was mistaken, they must be from...someone else...’ she ended lamely.

  ‘Well, I know I haven’t missed
your birthday,’ said Nick. ‘That isn’t until next month—the twenty-fourth, isn’t it?’

  ‘Heavens,’ said Rachel in amazement. ‘Fancy you remembering that.’

  ‘I bet you don’t remember when mine is.’

  ‘I do, actually.’

  ‘Go on, then, when is it?’

  ‘The ninth of May.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ he said softly.

  ‘Nick...I have to go,’ she said, ‘I have patients to see.’

  ‘OK. Bye, then. Oh, Rachel?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I still wish I’d thought of sending you yellow roses,’ he said.

  After she’d hung up she sat for a long while thinking about the flowers and who had sent them. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Nick had sent her those yellow roses in the past she would never have suspected that it might have been him. Now that he had been eliminated it seemed fairly probable that they could be from her mystery admirer. It would have been a relatively easy task for Tommy to have bought the roses, written on the card then left them on the main reception desk when no one was looking. The fact that he had hit on yellow roses had been no more than a strange coincidence. But Rachel knew that she had to do something to put a stop to these events, which now were becoming disturbing.

  Swiftly coming to a decision, she leaned across to her computer and brought up the personal details of Eileen Page, including her phone number.

  Eileen answered on the third ring. ‘Eileen, it’s Dr Beresford,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Hello, Doctor.’ Eileen sounded almost as surprised as Nick had done. ‘Is there anything wrong?’

  ‘No, Eileen,’ Rachel hastened to reassure her, mindful of how anxious people became if contacted unexpectedly by their GP. ‘There’s nothing wrong, but I was wondering if I could have a chat with you about Tommy.’

  ‘Well, yes, of course,’ Eileen replied. ‘But when, and do you want Tommy there as well?’

  ‘No, I want to see you on your own. When does Tommy go to the day centre?’

  ‘Well, he’s there today.’

  ‘So could I call in to see you...’ Rachel glanced at her watch ‘...say, about twelve o’clock?’

  ‘Yes, all right, Dr Beresford,’ Eileen replied.

  ‘I’ll see you then,’ she said.

  Rachel wasn’t convinced she was handling this in the right way but she knew she had to do something. Deep down she knew that really she should be telling Nick about the unwanted attention she was receiving, especially with what had been happening recently in Westhampstead, but her gut instinct was still that it was Tommy who had developed a crush on her and the last thing she wanted was for him to come under any sort of police investigation. Hopefully a word with his mother might be all it would need to put a stop to his activities.

  Eileen and Tommy Page lived on the edge of the Charlwood Estate in a block of flats owned by the local housing association. The flat, on the first floor, appeared warm and comfortable and was nicely furnished, but Eileen Page seemed uneasy when she opened the door and invited Rachel into her living room.

  ‘I’ve been really worried since you phoned,’ she said as she indicated for Rachel to sit down on a two-seater settee. ‘Oh, I know you said it wasn’t anything to worry about, but then you said it was about Tommy and, well, I’ve worried about Tommy since the day he was born.’

  ‘Oh, Eileen, I’m so sorry,’ said Rachel in concern. ‘I really didn’t mean to alarm you.’

  ‘Is it anything about his health?’ Eileen still looked anxious, her forehead furrowed.

  ‘No, it isn’t his health.’ Rachel shook her head then coming straight to the point she went on, ‘I think, Eileen, that Tommy has developed a bit of a crush on me.’

  Eileen stared at her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I know he’s very fond of you—but is that a problem?’

  ‘Not in itself, no, of course it isn’t,’ Rachel replied. ‘But I’m afraid it is getting a bit much, Eileen.’

  ‘In what way? I don’t understand.’ She frowned.

  ‘Well, it started with a note left at the surgery,’ Rachel explained, ‘then there were several emails and then this morning there were flowers left for me.’

  ‘And you think all this was Tommy?’ Eileen stared at her in amazement.

  ‘Well, I certainly had the feeling that it was Tommy,’ Rachel replied. ‘He does go out on his own sometimes, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he will go to the shops on his own,’ Eileen agreed. ‘But he can only usually remember one item at a time. For instance, he will go to the local shop for a newspaper but there wouldn’t be any point my asking him to bring back anything else because he simply wouldn’t remember it.’

  ‘I see,’ said Rachel. Taking a deep breath, she went on, ‘Did you say he has access to a computer?’

  ‘Yes, he does,’ Eileen agreed. ‘The day centre provided one for him and he plays games on it.’

  ‘Does he send emails?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘I don’t think so—I’ve never heard him mention emails,’ said Eileen. Looking up quickly, she added, ‘I don’t know much about computers but don’t you have to have an address to send someone an email?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Rachel said.

  ‘So how would Tommy know yours?’

  ‘I must admit, I have no idea, Eileen,’ said Rachel. ‘I only know that, whoever is doing it, I want it to stop because it’s getting a bit disturbing.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it is,’ Eileen said. She paused. ‘Have...have these messages been threatening in any way?’ she asked at last.

  ‘Not really,’ Rachel replied. ‘Although there was one, which I replied to, asking who the sender was, and it came back saying that I know who it is. I just found that a bit scary really.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Eileen looked troubled. ‘Yes, that is scary. Look, I’ll have a word with Tommy and try to find out if it is him. But I have to say that somehow I doubt it. It really sounds like someone who is far more...’ She hesitated as if searching for the right word.

  ‘Sophisticated?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Eileen seized on the word. ‘Far more sophisticated than Tommy. You have to remember, Doctor, Tommy still has the mind of a child.’

  ‘Yes, Eileen, I know.’ Rachel stood up. ‘But I would be very much obliged if you would just have a little word with him, because if it isn’t him, and it goes on, I really do think I’m going to have to report the matter to the police.’

  Eileen followed her out to the front door where Rachel paused for a moment, one hand on the catch. ‘Oh, there was just one other thing, Eileen,’ she said. ‘Does Tommy ever go out at night?’

  ‘Hardly ever,’ Eileen replied, ‘and certainly not on his own.’

  ‘When he does, is he ever picked up by car?’

  ‘Occasionally his cousin will come and collect him and take him down to McDonald’s for a meal but that hasn’t happened for a long time now.’

  ‘I see. Well, thank you for your help, Eileen.’

  Moments later she was driving through the Charlwood Estate back to the medical centre without feeling that she had achieved very much. Maybe Eileen had been telling the truth and Tommy really wasn’t capable of the subtlety of her mystery admirer, or perhaps she knew he was and with a mother’s instinct she was simply seeking to protect her son. Whatever the reasons, Rachel decided the only thing she could do was to wait and see if anything of a similar nature happened again.

  * * *

  She didn’t have long to wait. That afternoon, between patients in her surgery, she checked her emails. Once again there was a message from ‘your friend’. Her heart was thumping as she clicked on the ‘open’ option.

  Hello, read the message, it’s me again. Did you like the flowers? Yellow roses are your favourite, aren’t they?

  She stared at the message. Probably Eileen wouldn’t have had time to talk to Tommy yet—not if he was at his day centre all day. The emailer admitted to being the send
er of the flowers but also stated that he knew them to be her favourites. She had been willing to accept that Tommy might have hit on them by a strange coincidence but how could he possibly have known that the flowers were her favourites? So few people knew that. It was disturbing because once again it raised the possibility that her mystery admirer could be someone other than Tommy. And if it wasn’t Tommy, she thought, trying to quell a little surge of panic as she gazed at the screen, then who the hell was it?

  She had little time for further speculation, however, for as she finished her surgery Julie rang through to ask if she would see an extra patient.

  ‘Who is it, Julie?’ she asked. It had been an extremely busy and somewhat stressful day and she had been looking forward to going home, running a relaxing bath and pouring a glass of wine to help herself unwind. It wasn’t her turn to take the extra evening surgery for emergencies—maybe this patient would be prepared to see the duty doctor.

  Julie’s reply swiftly caused her to change her mind. ‘It’s Rowena Woodhouse,’ she said. ‘I know you aren’t duty doctor tonight, Rachel, but she has particularly asked to see you.’

  Rachel had slumped in her chair after the departure of her last patient but she sat up straight now. ‘I’ll see her, Julie,’ she said. ‘Send her in now.’

  A few moments later Rowena knocked at the door and came into the room. She was not in such a distressed state as she had been the last time Rachel had seen her but, with dark circles under her eyes, she still looked tired and very strained.

  ‘Rowena.’ Rachel half rose from her chair and indicated a seat. ‘Come in, please, sit down. Now, tell me,’ she said as the young woman sat down as if she had in some way been programmed to obey instructions, ‘how are you feeling?’