A Life Less Lonely

by Jill Barry

  “She does seem to have nine lives. But please don’t feel guilty about today’s episode. Mum’s my responsibility, after all.”

  Lizzie looked pensive. “There was one bonus though. He’s a bit of a dish, that consultant, isn’t he? Wish he’d stayed for tea. I could have lured him with my sultana scones.”

  The two women exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

  “Trust my mother to go straight to the top,” said Andrea. “I still don’t know exactly how Dr Harrison happened along but he seems to have defused an awkward situation. I mean, walking off with those plants like that – she could’ve ended up in court.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “According to the policeman who rang to make sure she was home safe and sound, Dr Harrison settled the bill and accepted all responsibility for your mother’s actions.”

  Andrea stiffened. “I never knew that.” Her heartbeat accelerated into top gear. “Goodness, she hasn’t even begun the trial yet.”

  “Speaking of which,” said Lizzie. “I’m hoping to be able to move in here by the end of next week. There’s a lady two doors down from me who says she could do with a bit of company. She’s a retired teacher. I told her your mum’s a history geek and she said she’d happily come in and spend time with her while I’m doing my school job. I think between the pair of us we can keep an eye on Rosemary.”

  “Really? That’s such a relief. I was wondering if I should turn down the invitation to go to Canada but now you tell me this, maybe everything will be all right.”

  Lizzie got up and peered round the kitchen door before sitting down again. “It’s OK. Your mum’s watching her favourite quiz show. So, what were you saying about Canada?”

  “It’s to do with Dr Harrison’s medical trial,” said Andrea. “He wants me to accompany him to Montreal to be his co-speaker at an important conference. I’ve always wanted to visit Canada. My friend Kirsty says she’ll happily look after Josh while I’m away.’ She drummed her fingertips on the table. ‘My mother is more of a problem.”

  “But not anymore,” said Lizzie, folding her arms. “It’ll do you good to get away. New experiences and all that, apart from which, I imagine it won’t do your CV any harm?’

  Nodding, Andrea smoothed the crocheted centrepiece her mother kept on the kitchen table. She’d worked four, each in tune with a different season. In this one, pale golden primroses gleamed against misty green leaves. “I’m very grateful to you, Lizzie. It’s not easy being single again after you’ve been with someone in a loving relationship.” She bit her lip. “What an idiot I am. You know all about that already.”

  Lizzie stretched out her hand and grasped Andrea’s. “It’s not that time’s a great healer, my dear. It’s all about moving on and refusing to crumble into a heap. Whether someone’s a movie star, an anthropologist or a dinner lady, we all of us share the same problem. You’ve got your career plus little Josh to keep you focused. You get out there and sock it to ‘em.”

  Lizzie looked so fierce that laughter kicked into touch the tears Andrea fought to hold back.

  “Thank you so much,” she said. “I never want to forget how lucky I am. Or how important it is to keep our sense of humour - yes?”

  Lizzie nodded. “You bet, Dr Palmer. So, just you say yes to Dr Delectable and seize the moment.”

  Andrea couldn’t bring herself to confess she’d already found her own nickname for Keir Harrison. Dr Shiny Pants had found yet another admirer now.

  ***

  Keir surveyed the assembled students. Some sat, alert, pens poised over notebooks. Others looked as though they wished they were somewhere else. The age range seemed broader than when he’d been a student. One or two of the more mature ones smiled appreciatively when Keir requested they kept any electronic devices switched off.

  “Can’t stand to hear them tapping at their net books or whatever while I’m trying to hold their attention,” he’d told Richard Bailey. “As for all those bizarre ring tones, words fail me.”

  “And I thought I was the old fuddy-duddy,” the professor had responded.

  The talk went well but when Keir asked if there were any questions, there was total silence, apart from the occasional cough or shuffle of papers.

  “Nothing?” He looked around expectantly.

  A hand shot up. “My gran’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. How could she get on a trial like the one you’re planning?”

  “Good question.” Keir smiled at the young man in the second row. “But whether Gran lives in Glasgow or Truro, her GP or specialist will be the one to guide and inform. So check out the Internet by all means and see what trials are taking place and what they’re focussing upon, but remember these are precious family members we’re talking about here. The medical history and current circumstances of each patient selected for our trial here at Hartnett has been carefully considered, taking lots of factors into account.”

  “Cool. So you don’t just look at the stage the disease is at? Other aspects like hearing loss, osteoporosis and whatever, all need taking into account?”

  Keir regarded the student with interest. “You’ve got it. Now, I can see Dr Palmer tapping her watch at me. I have to let you go.” He looked back at his questioner. “If I can help with anything related to your course, I’ll do my best. That’s a promise.”

  He smiled as a spatter of applause ran round the room. Tip-up seats thumped back and conversation buzzed as he gathered his notes together. A couple of students approached him and he listened patiently and answered their questions.

  As soon as they’d drifted away, Andrea arrived at the front of the room. He snapped his briefcase shut. At least, that had been his intention, but for some reason his fingers felt like sausages and he took two attempts before he succeeded.

  “It seemed a shame to stop you,” she said, “but there’s another lecture following yours. Thank you, Dr Harrison. You really held their attention.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Dr Palmer. Especially with a bright group of students like these seem to be. Are you going back to your office now?”

  “I am. You’re calling in on the Prof?”

  He picked up his briefcase. Slowly they began to climb the wide, blue-carpeted stairs separating blocks of tip-up seats. “Yes, though not before checking with you about your mother’s situation.” He stopped on the step above hers. “It’s occurred to me you might be wondering if you’re doing the right thing.”

  She looked up at him. Temporarily he towered above her even more than he normally did. The sweet curve of her breasts under her crisp white shirt distracted him.

  “What exactly do you mean by that?” Her tone was chilly to say the least.

  He shrugged. “She’s your mother, Andrea. It’s all very well my telling you not to worry. I can tell you I’m sure she’ll be fine while you’re away but if you don’t totally and utterly believe that’s the case, then I’d prefer you not to put pressure on yourself by coming to Montreal with me.”

  She stepped up beside him, lips slightly parted, cheeks pinker than they’d been before. “Has Richard said something to you? Is this all about women being torn between career and family, Keir?” She pitched her voice low and mutinous. “Have you changed your mind about wanting me to be your co-speaker? Because, if you have, I suggest you come clean and tell me.”

  He moved up and on to the area in front of the swing doors. “Of course I haven’t changed my mind, Andrea. What do you take me for? Nor has the Prof said anything. Why would he when you’re the best?” He frowned at her, annoyed yet desperate to reassure her. “Don’t you know having you by my side is hugely important when it comes to this conference?” He dumped his briefcase on the floor as if distancing himself from it and glared down at her.

  “Well, you could have fooled me!” She stood, arms folded across her chest, feet slightly apart.

  “Look, I truly didn’t mean to sound patronising. If I did, then I humbly apologise.”

  She stepped up beside him on to the t
op level. Instead of firing back a comment, she looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. The thought that he’d upset her suddenly slashed through him like a surgical scalpel. He reached out and clasped her by the elbows, pulling her nearer to him, none too gently either. “Andrea,” he said. “I …”

  Because her chin was tilted upwards, their mouths were dangerously close. Because her perfume and her body warmth played havoc with his self-control, he found difficulty in moving away even though at any moment the next lecturer or even a student might burst through the door. Keir was well aware of that. But he couldn’t stop himself. He took Andrea in his arms and held her close. He saw surprise flicker across her expression before she closed her eyes and leaned even closer towards him. Somehow those angry folded arms unfolded and found their way around him, holding him close as he’d dreamed of them doing. Somehow he began kissing her, first gently then hungrily. He kissed her as though he never meant to stop. And what’s more, she reciprocated.

  It felt so right, even though he knew it was the last thing he should be doing. Her lips felt soft and luscious under his. So much so that he kept his mouth on hers but moved his hands gently upwards, losing them in the softness of her hair, which, he realised with a jolt, was fragrant and silky just as he’d thought it would be. He forgot everything in the heat of the moment.

  She broke away first. The expression he saw in her eyes was an odd mixture of fear and possibly, he thought, regret. She said nothing but stood, smoothing her hair away from her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Keir, hands back at his sides. “That was totally out of order. I apologise for my behaviour. You have every right to lodge a complaint about me. I fully understand.” At that moment, all he cared about was Andrea and how offended she might be by such maverick and inappropriate behaviour to a married colleague.

  She shook her head but didn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t need to apologise. I overreacted.” Hastily, she added, “to your comment about my concerns over my mother. For that I’m sorry. But it’s important you understand my personal life is my own business. If I didn’t feel I could offer you one hundred percent co-operation in Montreal, believe me, Keir, I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation in the first place.”

  Holding out his hand to her, he said, “Friends then?”

  For a moment she looked as if she wanted to say something more to him. But she nodded and shook hands immediately. “Good colleagues will do and that’s what I hope we’ll remain. Now, let’s get out of here. I have work to do. As I’m sure you have.”

  Andrea strode off, increasing the distance between Keir and herself as she hurried down the corridor. He kept his eyes on her. Watched her ignore the lift disgorging a chattering group. Saw her begin climbing the staircase. She didn’t check to see whether he followed her or not.

  ***

  Once on the third floor, Andrea shot into the women’s washroom, fortunately unoccupied, to stand at the basin, hands gripping the edge of the vanity unit, glaring at herself in the large mirror so thoughtfully provided for people who’d just been comprehensively kissed when they shouldn’t have been. Even more significantly, for people who’d kissed the other person back when they shouldn’t have. Because Keir unlocked feelings in her she’d never thought to experience again. Ever.

  Andrea tucked her hair behind her ears, ignoring the thought of how Keir’s fingers had touched it so tenderly only minutes earlier. His face, the skin retaining a hint of whatever shamelessly expensive aftershave or cologne he’d used, had touched her face. She stroked her cheeks then smelt the tips of her fingers. Lovingly. Tenderly.

  “No way,” she snapped, jabbing at the tap, flinching as cold water gushed into the basin. She splashed her face then reached for a paper towel and blotted it dry.

  How the heck had that happened? Of course she knew how it had happened – she’d riled him, rattled his cage more furiously than he’d rattled hers. Now her fantasy over how it might feel to be kissed by Keir Harrison had been fulfilled. Fine. Perhaps now the head of steam had exploded, the pair of them would be able to settle down together as friends or colleagues or anything else not remotely linked to lovers. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her. Nor had she expected to enjoy it quite so much. Maybe he considered himself to be a ladies’ man. Now, why hadn’t she thought of that before? It might be the kind of expression her mother would use about the leading man in one of those black and white films she adored, but Keir certainly had the CV to fit the role. Think Moira the red-haired nurse. Even Lizzie Dean, who admittedly would have had to be really precocious in order to be his mother, had described him as Dr Delectable. There must be many other females worshipping at his well-shod feet, without including his long-suffering wife.

  But Dr Keir Harrison truly didn’t come across as God’s gift to women, despite his immaculate suits and charming manner. He didn’t do smarmy. And there was genuine hurt in his eyes after she snarled at him like an angry dragon. It was clear to her now, having calmed down, that he had her best interests at heart. Whatever the temptation, she must not allow herself to relive that kiss. To do so would only forge a chink in her defences and for all sorts of reasons that mustn’t be allowed to happen.

  With the word kiss echoing round her head, Andrea screwed the paper towel into a ball and hurled it into the waste bin. If only she could dispose of her guilty feelings with similar ease.

  ***

  Keir arrived at his office with a certain amount of relief. He’d watched Andrea disappear up the staircase without a backward glance and had opted not to use the elevator but to wait a suitable interval before climbing the stairs to the third floor. He’d no intention of developing the equivalent of a pilot’s paunch and often found using the stairs quicker than waiting for a lift to lumber into position. He tried not to think what might have happened had the two of them been locked into a lift together. Something very disturbing threatened to erode his self-control.

  On arrival at Richard’s office, the Prof plied him with strong coffee, which Keir accepted with gratitude but almost scalded his tongue on contact with the steaming liquid. But every other sentence of their discussion seemed to begin with Andrea says this or does Andrea think that? Although it was all perfectly valid and reasonable, Keir didn’t need her name in his ears when it already whispered at him inside his head at all times of day and night, just as the memory of her fragrance stirred his senses in a dangerous way.

  When he returned to his office he found Lyn had left his opened mail and phone messages on his desk together with a lurid pink post-it note saying she’d gone to lunch and would be back at one o’clock. That gave him time to regroup. The fact that he’d kissed a colleague so impulsively weighed upon his mind, still worrying him. The fact that he’d enjoyed it so much, heightened by the way the recipient hadn’t leapt away in horror, had even seemed to kiss him back, was another matter entirely.

  He should head for the dining room and eat something to soak up all that caffeine while he talked medical politics or whatever was on that day’s menu along with the hot food. But for just a few minutes, would it be so very wicked if he just relived that moment again?

  Even the Prof’s high-octane coffee couldn’t wash away the taste of Andrea’s mouth. Her light, sweet scent still lingered in his nostrils but no way could he let his guard down like that again. He’d lost his own wife to another man and suffered the fallout. He didn’t intend stealing someone else’s spouse, no matter how delightful and witty and dedicated and attractive he found her. Loving her wasn’t an option. His forbidden feelings couldn’t be declared.

  She’d made the decision to travel to Canada with him. He hadn’t exaggerated when he told her how much he valued her as a colleague. But it was going to take every ounce of his willpower to keep his relationship with Dr Andrea Palmer on a strictly professional footing.

  Keir groaned and put his head in his hands.

  ***

  On the morning of departure, Andrea ferried Josh to Kirsty’s h
ouse soon after breakfast. She watched her son disappear inside the spacecraft formerly known as Kirsty’s kitchen table. Faded curtains secured by hefty cookbooks concealed the scrubbed pine surface, a small side opening allowing chinks of daylight so the two brave astronauts could operate their equipment and command a crew consisting of three portly teddy-bears, a worried-looking Tigger and a smiling felt penguin.

  Kirsty winked at her. “I’m instructed to deliver milk and flapjack to the flight deck at eleven o’clock. Sure I can’t tempt you before you go?”

  Andrea shook her head. “I’ll be fine, thanks. I’d stay longer but maybe I should fix a sandwich after I get home. Dr Harrison’s picking me up so I don’t have to leave my car at Heathrow. After all, we’re booked on the same flights.”

  “Sensible thing to do then – and while I think of it, I don’t want you rushing over here to collect Josh as soon as you arrive home again. You’ll still be jet-lagged, don’t forget.”

  “OK, Mum,” said Andrea. “Let’s see how things go. If the flight’s delayed, we might get back too late for that anyway. I’m very comfortable about leaving him with you, Kirsty. You know that.”

  “And with Lizzie in charge of your other chick, all you have to do is look drop dead gorgeous while you dazzle a lecture hall packed with delegates.’ She shuddered. “I’d rather cook a casserole for two hundred than stand in front of that lot and give a talk. Rather you than me, kiddo.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t know about the drop dead gorgeous bit but Keir and I have put together a pretty comprehensive package to stun them with. That’s the plan, anyway.”

  Kirsty glanced at the kitchen clock and looked enquiringly at Andrea. “Should you make a discreet retreat now? So you can drive back in leisurely manner.”

  Andrea nodded and rose from her seat beside the dark blue kitchen range. “Mum calling Josh … Mum calling Josh.”

  No response. She said it again. Two helmeted heads appeared in the gap.