Gio had said their friendship was important and apparently he considered things would go on as before, but Jess felt as if part of her was dying inside because friendship was never going to be enough now.
‘I’m going to Italy at the weekend for my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary,’ he reminded her, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Her heart breaking, Jess struggled to keep her voice as normal as possible. ‘My cottage should be ready by then, so I’ll move out.’
‘I didn’t mean that.’ He frowned as if her leaving was not something he had considered.
‘Living here was only meant to be temporary,’ she pointed out, knowing she couldn’t stay with him and not be with him. ‘It’s for the best.’
His frown deepened, confusion and disappointment mingling in his intensely blue eyes. ‘If that’s what you want.’
It wasn’t what she wanted at all, but she didn’t see how she could do anything else if what she really wanted?Gio himself?was not an option.
The next few days were like purgatory, and by the time Friday arrived, Jess was at breaking point and not at all sure how much longer she could hold on. Pretending to accept Gio’s decision to return things to a platonic footing had involved the performance of her life. She hadn’t been able to sleep, lying in a bed a short distance down the corridor from him, wanting more than anything to be in his arms. But it wasn’t going to happen and the sooner she faced that and rebuilt her battered defences, the better it would be.
He went to Italy on the Friday and, after the loneliest night in the house without him, Jess tried to hold back the tears as she packed her things into her car and then put Dickens and Kipling into their basket for the short journey to her cottage. The kittens would miss Gio almost as much as she would, she reflected sadly. He’d been so good with them. She choked back the emotion as she recalled the way he had lain on the floor, chuckling as the two growing kittens had romped over him. And the time she’d come in late one Friday night after her session of volunteering at the Samaritans to find Gio lying asleep on the sofa, the kittens curled up on his chest in a tangle.
Feeling numb inside, she secured the house and drove away from it, wondering if it was for the last time. However much she hurt, she couldn’t blame Gio. She knew how devastating Sofia’s death had been and it was understandable that he was wary of embarking on another relationship, especially with someone like her. She was well at the moment, and she would do all she could to stay that way. As Luca and her specialist, Mr Jackson, frequently told her, there was no reason why she couldn’t live into old age with very few problems at all. But anyone would be wary of taking on that uncertainty, especially someone who had experienced what Gio had.
No, Gio was not to blame. It was her own fault. She’d hoped for too much… had dared to dream and to believe in the impossible. Now she had to pick up the pieces because fairy-tale, happy-ever-after endings didn’t happen to people like her.
‘Why did you stay the night with me?’
It was one of the things Megan had most dreaded Josh ever asking and it had played over and over in her head since the day in A and E when they had done the unthinkable and faced their past.
Aside from not wanting to acknowledge the truth to herself, she certainly didn’t want to tell Josh the answer to his question. To admit that she had been drawn to him from the first moment she had seen him and that, despite his reputation, she had yearned for him for years like some lovestruck teenager was beyond embarrassing.
Between medical school and caring for her grandmother, she’d had no time for a social life, so going to a party on New Year’s Eve had been a real treat. Wearing an exquisite dress, her hair and make-up done, she’d felt like Cinderella. Only she’d been granted a bit longer before the spell had been broken… not at midnight, for her, but lunchtime the following day.
For the first time, Josh had approached her. Given his undivided attention, she’d melted like an ice cube under the noon sun. He’d made her feel special. Surprisingly, they had talked and talked, and she’d found him so much more than she had ever expected. He’d been funny, he’d listened as if what she’d had to say had mattered, he’d sympathised about her grandmother, and he had confided in her, too. The night had ended in the inevitable way, the sexual chemistry and tension between them impossible to resist.
Megan closed her eyes and tried to push away the painful memories. She had believed in her heart that what they had shared had been more than one night. Much more. Or she never would have gone home with Josh in the first place. They’d connected. On every level. She hadn’t imagined it. And it hadn’t just been the sex, amazing as that had been. She knew Josh had been spooked by their closeness as he’d freely admitted that he’d revealed things to her that he’d never told to anyone else. He’d told her she was different. He’d been so genuine. And she’d believed him. Had wanted to believe him. So badly.
They had finally, reluctantly, parted but only after Josh had made love to her one last time and had made her promise to meet him that evening. It had been noon when she had rushed home to her grandmother feeling a mix of guilt and euphoria. The hours with Josh had been the most amazing of her life and she hadn’t been able to wait to see him again. So when he had stood her up, failing to meet at the agreed time and place, she had been confused and upset.
When she had finally seen him several worrying days later, he had blanked her completely, laughing with his friends, ignoring her as if their night had never happened. She’d been devastated. Even now she could remember how she had felt… used, cheap, stupid, incredibly naïve and very, very hurt.
Megan shivered in reaction as the memories of that lonely, frightening time and what had followed over the next months flowed through her. Ashamed, she had withdrawn and hidden herself away. And then she had discovered that she was pregnant. And so scared.
Weeks later she’d experienced a searing pain and had remembered nothing until she had woken up in hospital to learn that Josh had been part of the team who had not only taken away her baby but had performed a hysterectomy, depriving her of ever becoming a mother. She’d been devastated, the sense of loss and grief overwhelming.
Eight years on, listening to his explanation and seeing his own emotion had given her much to think about. The hurt remained, both at his rejection and at the loss of her baby. But while there was much she was still angry with him about, she no longer blamed him for the miscarriage or the lengths taken to save her life.
Despite their past and all that lay between them? including the very real presence of his wife—the chemistry remained. When they worked together in A and E, they often knew what the other was thinking or doing without the need for words.
She knew he was out of bounds. She knew what had happened the last time the chemistry had led her astray. And she couldn’t forget the way Josh had rejected and betrayed her. So discovering that she was still vulnerable to him, still drawn to him and still unable to get him out of her mind, frightened her.
If she showed the slightest weakness she feared what might happen. And only heartache would lie ahead. She had learned her lesson the hard way the last time round. So why did she have the terrible feeling that history was going to repeat itself?
CHAPTER TEN
LATE on Sunday afternoon Jess walked along the surfing beach east of Penhally’s harbour, lost in thought. It had been another beautiful day, but the air was cooling as the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon. Pushing her hands into the pockets of the floaty skirt that fell to her knees, Jess sighed. There was no escaping her thoughts. Thoughts that were stuck in one place and refused to budge. With Gio.
He would be back tonight and tomorrow she would see him at work. She wasn’t sure how to continue pretending that nothing had happened or behave normally, accepting they could only ever be friends. Could she be friends when she wanted so much more? It was a question that had pounded in her head all week and she still didn’t know the answer. All
she did know was that she had missed him terribly and faced with a choice of never seeing him again, then, as sad and pathetic as it sounded, any part of Gio was better than no Gio at all. Even if she was dying inside. Because she had fallen in love with a man who had experienced such heartache that he couldn’t take a risk on someone whose future could be as uncertain as hers.
As she neared the end of the promontory on which the lighthouse, coastguard office and St Mark’s church stood, she heard shouting and laughter, and looked up to see a couple of teenagers messing about on the rocks. She was about to turn round and retrace her steps back along the beach when the tone of the teenage voices changed and she watched in horror as one of the boys lost his footing and crashed face down amongst the rocks.
Jess ran towards the scene of the accident, as did a few other people who were further away on the beach and up on the promontory. The teenager’s friend was now silent and standing motionless in shock and terror as he gazed down at his stricken comrade. Reaching the rocky outcrop, and glad she was wearing trainers, Jess began to climb.
The lower rocks were slippery, and several times she lost her own footing, resulting in umpteen cuts and bruises, but she kept going as rapidly as she could, fearing what she would find when she reached the boy. Moving towards him, she misjudged a step and fell heavily. Pain seared through her foot, leg and side, and she felt the hot stickiness of blood flowing down her calf. Ignoring it, she limped and scrambled awkwardly the rest of the way to the boy.
His injuries were worse than she’d feared. Frightened eyes stared up at her, and she struggled to mask her shock so as not to distress him further. His face had borne the brunt of his fall and, along with a lot of bleeding and considerable soft-tissue damage, she could tell that his jaw, nose and one cheekbone were all broken.
Instinct took over as she did a quick assessment. There were no other apparent injuries but that hardly mattered because there was one serious, immediate and life-threatening problem… the boy was finding it increasingly impossible to breathe.
‘Has anyone called an ambulance?’ she shouted to the small crowd that was gathering on the rocks above her.
‘Yes,’ someone called. ‘ETA at least twelve minutes.’
Jess swore. They couldn’t wait that long. ‘I need a sharp knife?preferably a scalpel. And something like a small piece of tube, or a drinking straw. Anything narrow and hollow. He can’t breathe and I have to help him,’ she shouted up.
‘The lighthouse and coastguard station both have full first-aid kits. I’ll get one of those,’ the man called down to her.
‘Please hurry! There isn’t much time.’
Hoping the man understood the urgency, and that the kit would contain the things she needed, Jess returned her attention to the boy and tried to talk soothingly to him as she continued her assessment. With all the blood, fragments of bone and the rapidly swelling tissues around his face, there was no way she could clear or maintain an airway. It was no surprise when he began to panic as he failed to draw oxygen into his lungs and started to lose consciousness.
It seemed an eternity before the man reappeared above her and began the dangerous climb down. His exclamation of shock when he saw the boy was understandable but Jess didn’t have time to do anything but take the first-aid kit from him. She winced at the shaft of pain in her side as she dragged the heavy bag close, but she pushed her own discomfort aside and opened the kit, giving heartfelt thanks that it was an extensive and well-stocked one.
Gathering together the things she needed, she told her unknown companion what she was doing. ‘I have to create an opening in his throat so he can breathe. We can’t wait for the ambulance. What’s your name?’
‘Charlie.’
‘I’m Jess. I…’ She paused and sucked in a breath. ‘I’m a doctor,’ she told him, speaking aloud the words she had not used for four years. ‘Have you got a mobile phone, Charlie?’
‘Yes, right here.’
‘Phone 999 and tell them we need the air ambulance, too,’ she requested, knowing that if what she attempted was successful, the boy would need to get to hospital as fast as possible.
As Charlie made the call, Jess focused on the task ahead. Nervousness gripped her. Shutting out the comments from the small crowds on the rocks above her and the beach below, she steadied herself and called on all her former training. She was scared, but she’d done this a few times before. She could do it now. She had to if the boy wasn’t to suffocate before the ambulance arrived. Closing her eyes, she did a quick mental run-through of the emergency procedure she had never expected to be called on to perform again.
After using an antiseptic wipe on the boy’s throat, she draped some gauze around the site and then she took out the sterile, single-use blade that was in the kit. She had no local anaesthetic available, but with his consciousness level low he probably didn’t need it. Unsure how aware he was, she told him what she needed to do, talking through it as much to steady herself as him.
With the fingers of one hand she felt for the correct spot on the throat and, with her other hand, made a small vertical incision through the skin. Identifying the cricothyroid membrane, she made a horizontal cut through it, careful to ensure that she didn’t damage the cartilage. With no proper tracheal spreader available she had to improvise again, and she used the handle of a small knife she found in the kit, inserting it into the incision and turning it so that it created a small passage. Already there was a life-saving flow of air in and out as the boy’s lungs inflated and reinflated.
‘Could you cut me some strips of tape, Charlie?’
As he obliged, Jess cut a piece of plastic tube to the right length and, with great care so as not to damage any cartilage or the vocal cords, angled it and slid it into the makeshift passageway. It was a temporary measure but it would keep the boy alive and his airway open until the paramedics arrived. Taking the strips Charlie handed her, she secured the tube in place.
‘Well done, Jess!’ Charlie praised when she had finished, giving a thumbs-up to the crowd on the promontory and beach, who broke into spontaneous applause.
Jess sat back and let out a shaky breath. ‘Thanks.’
It had only taken two or three minutes to complete the procedure and yet she felt weary and quite unsteady. Taking the boy’s hand, she continued to monitor his breathing, relieved that he was awake. She gently wiped away the blood from around his eyes—brown eyes that were now open again and staring at her with a mix of relief and fright and pain.
‘The ambulance will be here very soon,’ she reassured him, rewarded when his fingers tightened on hers.
He was going to need an excellent maxillofacial surgeon for reconstruction, Jess reflected, her thoughts interrupted by the sound of an approaching siren, and relief flowed through her as the ambulance arrived. Charlie moved the first-aid kit out of the way, then showed the paramedics the best way down the rocks. Jess recognised both men, who greeted her by name, their surprise evident as she debriefed them and they realised the role she had played in events.
Things passed in a blur after that. Charlie left, but Jess remained where she was, answering the occasional question but mostly watching the paramedics work. It wasn’t long before they were joined by the medics from the air ambulance and she had to give her debrief over again. Once the boy was stabilised, volunteers were needed to help extricate the stretcher from the difficult location, but before long he was off the rocks and on his way to St Piran’s in the helicopter.
‘Now, then, Jess, our heroine of the day, what about you?’ Stuart asked, squatting down in front of her while Mark cleared up their things and invited the more nosy and persistent onlookers to disperse.
‘Me?’ Jess frowned. ‘I’m fine.’
He chuckled. ‘I hardly think so, love. You’re pale as a ghost and your leg is a mess,’ he pointed out.
‘I’d forgotten all about it,’ she admitted, so focused had she been on what she needed to do.
‘You were a bit busy,
weren’t you?’ His grin was infectious. ‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’
‘Just some cuts and bruises. I bashed my side and twisted my foot when I fell. It’s nothing. I’ll clean up at home,’ she assured him, anxiety setting in at the prospect of either Stuart or Mark treating her.
Pulling on a fresh pair of protective gloves, Stuart sat back and looked at her. ‘That’s a deep cut, Jess. You’ve lost a fair bit of blood and it’s going to need stitching. And that’s without getting the other things checked out.’
Her anxiety increasing, Jess bit her lip. She wished she could dismiss her injuries and refuse treatment, but looking at her leg she could see that the wound was bad and not something she would advise anyone else to try and take care of alone. As the adrenalin that had sustained her while waiting for the ambulance wore off, her foot and her ribs were also becoming increasingly painful and she feared she might have broken at least one bone. All of which meant she was going to have to tell Stuart the truth.
Fighting back an uncharacteristic welling up of tears, she sucked in a ragged breath. ‘Stuart, I…’ She hesitated, frightened what would happen when he knew.
‘What’s wrong, Jess?’ he prompted, his concern evident.
‘You need to double-glove,’ she told him, her voice unsteady, her lashes lowering so that she wouldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘I’m HIV positive.’
A few seconds of silence followed and she felt sick as she waited for the inevitable reaction to her admission. An errant tear escaped and landed on her cheek. It was Stuart’s hand that reached out to wipe it away and she glanced up, wide-eyed with surprise to see nothing but understanding and compassion in the forty-year-old father-of-three’s hazel eyes.
‘Don’t you worry, Jess, love. We’ll take good care of you.’
His kindness and easy acceptance, so at odds with her earlier experiences?apart from Gio, of course? brought a fresh welling up of emotion. As Stuart set about dressing her leg, Jess struggled to push thoughts of Gio to the back of her mind. She wished more than anything that he was there with her now. But he wasn’t. She was on her own. Just as she had been these last four years.
St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride Page 13
