A Life Less Lonely

by Jill Barry

  Thoughtfully, Keir opened the top drawer of his desk and dropped the piece of pasteboard inside. Rhonda would doubtless be in touch if he didn’t email that CV of his to her. It could hold for the time being. This needed his full consideration and just at the moment he teetered on the brink of something life-changing. He hesitated. Maybe he’d keep Rhonda’s details in his inside jacket pocket after all. He’d take it home and file it away. Just in case.

  Chapter Nine

  Richard Bailey arrived in Andrea’s office doorway next morning, trying to pretend he wasn’t clutching a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of perfect yellow rosebuds. “Ahem,” he said.

  “Richard, I’m sorry I missed you earlier.” She glanced up from her computer screen. “Gorgeous flowers! Have I forgotten Louise’s birthday or something?”

  “No, indeed.” He held out the roses. “Fortunately my wife isn’t receiving bouquets from George Clooney because these are for you. You won’t even need to find a vase. See this goldfish bowl thing?”

  She looked unconvinced. “You’re saying these are for me?”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I happened to walk by the desk as the receptionist was about to ring you. The local florist delivered them, apparently.”

  “Goodness,” she said. “Thanks for bringing them but who on earth would send me flowers?”

  “Maybe if you read the card?”

  She placed her hands either side of her head. “I think I’m still on Canadian time.”

  “Speaking of which, I gather you and Keir are going to reveal to us everything you’ve been getting up to in Montreal.”

  Andrea stared at him, a slow blush colouring her cheeks. “Um, oh yes, of course. Sorry. Keir’s PA got in touch yesterday. We agreed to do it tomorrow morning, before the patients arrive. The debriefing, I mean.” She looked down at her bouquet and tweaked the cellophane.

  “Of course,” he said, without batting an eyelid. “How did things go while you were away? On the home front, that is.”

  She raised her head again. “Good, thanks. Josh had an amazing time, just a few first night wobbles. As for my mother, I doubt she noticed I was gone.”

  “But that’s excellent, isn’t it? Did she recognise you when you walked in?”

  “She did,” said Andrea.

  “Great stuff. Now, I must get to my desk and make a few calls.”

  Andrea turned the beautiful arrangement around and found the tiny silver envelope stapled to the cellophane. Her heartbeat accelerated in a disgraceful manner. There was no reason she should receive such an extravagant gift. The card read:

  Just to say thank you for everything … Keir

  She could hardly complain about the message’s wording. It was an entirely appropriate way for one colleague to address another. But the very fact he’d omitted to send love, or even mention their forthcoming meeting, couldn’t hide what lay behind the brief bread and butter sentence. She’d given herself to him just days ago. He’d made his wishes very clear to her on the flight home as regards their future relationship. She’d rejected him. Upset him. This wasn’t merely a bunch of flowers. This signified a plea.

  Taking the scissors from her desk drawer, she pierced the wrapping, releasing the fresh rose fragrance. It seemed as significant as a kiss. Why couldn’t she unlock herself as easily? If only she could have met Keir further down the line, maybe a year or two from now. She ached for him but still felt convinced she’d made the right decision. To allow him into her personal life could bring nothing but anguish, confusion for Josh if it all went wrong. Again she told herself her desire for him must be a simple case of rebound.

  ****

  Keir looked up from his notes as someone walked through the clinic reception room door.

  “Hello, Moira,” he said. “I thought maybe I was being stood up.”

  She dumped her bag on the table and walked over to him. “As if. It’s great to have you back again.”

  He wished she wouldn’t invade his space quite so blatantly but it seemed churlish to step away. He was already positioned in front of the window. Doubtless some men would envy him, up close and personal with a woman whose figure was shapely and whose hair shone like new pennies. Keir had never been the kind of man to add notch upon notch to his bedpost but the invitation in Moira’s eyes was clear and present. It would be so easy to accept. But there was only one woman he wanted. The fact that she didn’t seem to want him was something he intended dealing with. He knew a dalliance with Moira, even with no strings attached, was not the way to further his case with the gorgeous yet troubled Dr Palmer.

  Moira lifted one carefully manicured hand and leaned even closer. Close enough for him to catch a drift of sultry perfume. Whatever scent she used, it must be quite something. If he closed his eyes he’d never guess he stood next to a busy ward sister.

  Her long fingers plucked at his jacket lapel. “Just a stray thread,” she murmured.

  “Good morning,” said a voice.

  Keir could have wished the redhead to the other ends of the earth. Andrea stood just inside the doorway, briefcase in hand, smile seemingly painted on her lips. She walked over to one of the smaller tables and pulled out a chair before he could dodge round Moira and reach her.

  “Andrea,” said the nurse. “I do believe you’re looking a little peaky. I hope Dr Harrison didn’t work you too hard while you were in Montreal.” Her eyes gleamed. Her voice purred.

  “We certainly didn’t get much time away from conference,” said Andrea, looking the nurse in the eye. “There were lots of hands to shake - lots of talking, plenty of questions.”

  “Well, I look forward to hearing your, erm, debriefing,” said Moira moving away from Keir and patting her hair as two other team members arrived.

  To the consultant’s relief, Richard Bailey walked into the room and hurried straight over. “Good to see you back safe and sound, Keir - maybe we could grab a few minutes afterwards.” He looked at the others. “Good morning, everyone, I’m going to sit down so these two can get started.”

  Keir moved towards Andrea’s table and put his notes down beside hers. “OK if I perch here with you?”

  “By all means,” she said, slipping a pale grey envelope into his folder as though adding some information he needed. “It’s a note from a patient’s carer,” she said.

  Keir was conscious of watching eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “Now, Dr Palmer, why don’t you describe how you saw off the dissenting doctor, otherwise known as Toronto Tom?” There was a ripple of laughter. He nodded at the rest of the team. “That was no mean feat, I can assure you.”

  He didn’t find it easy, sitting beside her but apart from her. As she picked up on his lead, she kept her hands clasped on the table before her. From time to time he glanced sideways, admiring her profile. Her hair was drawn away from her face today, knotted loosely at the nape of her neck. She wore a navy-blue linen dress, enhancing her slim figure. Andrea’s body was far less voluptuous than that of Moira Haynes for example. But under his seeking hands as they’d explored her curves and hollows, Andrea had blossomed, welcomed him and delighted him with her response to his lovemaking. She’d forgotten everything, at least given the impression she had. So what could be stopping her from doing the same again? Surely she could trust him not to go blundering into her house and upsetting her son? That was the last thing he’d do.

  He turned his attention back to what she was saying. Then came his turn to give the flavour of the conference to his colleagues. Yes, some of the questions had been tough. He thought they’d acquitted themselves well. Dr Palmer had anyway, he’d said self-deprecatingly.

  The Prof wanted to know the names of some of the attendees possessing a community medicine background. Andrea provided the answer. Moira asked a couple of questions about the general standard of Canadian care of the elderly. Andrea answered that one too.

  At the end, Richard Bailey got to Keir first. Those needing to be ready to greet the first patients went next door t
o begin work. Keir noticed Andrea hesitating as he listened to what Richard had to say. He caught her eye and she nodded before leaving the room.

  As soon as he was able, Keir hurried into the room where the trial patients were seen. No sign of Andrea. His attention moved to Moira who was dealing with one of the trial participants. She was listening to what the woman had to say, nodding her head, smiling and cracking a joke. She was a terrific nurse and he knew he’d made the right choice by inviting her to join his team.

  But now, she glanced up and saw him watching her. Swiftly he looked the other way. Inevitably one of the patients called out to him. Keir gave the elderly man his full attention.

  As he moved away again, intent on returning to his office, Moira called to him. “Leaving already, Dr Harrison?”

  “You’re all doing fine without me looking over your shoulders,” he answered pleasantly.

  Walking away, he knew she still watched him. Keir didn’t turn around.

  ***

  His PA had messages. Lots of them. There were a couple of referrals needing his urgent attention but as soon as he could, he slit open the envelope handed to him by Andrea. It was, as he’d suspected, a note written by her. She’d sent a polite expression of gratitude for the beautiful flowers - unexpected but nonetheless welcome, she said. He stared at the neatly written paragraph. She’d ended by sending Best regards, and signing her name below. That was it. No regrets. No apologies. No hope.

  Was he supposed to back off totally? After the joy they’d experienced in each other’s arms, Keir felt saddened by the polite words on the page. But why should he have expected anything different? Andrea had obviously drawn a line under the Montreal trip and clearly she expected him to do the same.

  He worked until six that evening. Lyn had left an hour earlier. He wondered what he’d do with himself that evening, wished he could think of something to douse the restlessness within him. No way did he want to hit the whiskey bottle. That wasn’t his style. Maybe he should take himself off for a walk.

  He was almost at his car and still lost in his own dreary world when he heard someone call his name. It was a female voice.

  He turned around, his heartbeat overreacting to the sound. How stupid of it. Of course it wasn’t Andrea calling him. She’d be at home with her son by now. If only he could be there with them.

  The approaching woman arrived in a wave of freshly applied perfume. “Hello again,” said Moira Haynes. “I hate to be a nuisance, Keir, but could I ask a really big favour?”

  “What’s the matter, Moira?”

  She was practically purring. She’d also perfected the iconic Princess Di upward glance. How long did it take to get that right?

  She bit her lip. “It’s my car. That little blue Vauxhall over there.” She pointed. “I can’t get the darned thing started.”

  “Forgive me, but are you sure you haven’t run out of petrol?”

  “Per-lease! Believe me, the tank’s half full.”

  He shrugged. “Cars really aren’t my forte, I’m afraid. Do you belong to one of the motoring organisations?”

  She shook her head. “Never got around to it, but I’ve already rung my garage and said I’ve left the key under the seat for them. I just need a lift home now. You happened to come along and I thought maybe …”

  “Not a problem,” he said, pointing his key at his BMW.

  “Are you sure I’m not delaying you?” She did the upward glance thing again.

  “Positive, except you’ll have to give me directions. I don’t have a clue where you live.”

  “Well, at least we can put that right, can’t we?” She placed one small hand on his arm and slid into the passenger seat as he held open the door.

  He slung his briefcase on the back seat before settling himself behind the wheel. “Good session today, I hope.” He avoided looking at her.

  “Excellent,” she said, fastening her seatbelt. “I’m so thrilled you wanted me on board.”

  “Yes, well, I had my reasons for selecting the team I did,” he said, turning the ignition key. “It’s not all about skills. It’s about experience, judgement and intuition. It’s the ability to engage with a person and gain their confidence.”

  “I’m flattered,” she said.

  He opened his mouth to protest he’d been referring to all the team but she beat him to it. “It must have been a fantastic experience, going to Canada to the conference,” she said. “I really envied Dr Palmer.”

  “By the same token, there was an important reason for selecting her to accompany me. With respect, Moira, you don’t have her qualifications” Was he sounding petulant? Hastily, he tried to put matters right. “Of course, if I’d needed to take a senior nurse with me, you, Susie and Jane would all have been in the running.”

  She didn’t answer. But as he turned to check the space behind, he caught the triumphant expression on her face. He had a feeling he’d been set up, but he was in no mood for mind games.

  “Which lane do I take at the lights?” Keir drove through the exit gates in second gear and entered the one-way system.

  “The right-hand one, then it’s straight on until you reach the big roundabout. I’ll direct you from there. It doesn’t usually take more than ten minutes.”

  Neither of them spoke a word until Moira pointed out the exit lane he needed. Traffic was light and he drove straight on until she directed him towards a small estate of newish houses, each with a bite-sized front garden.

  “That’s Westbury Close. I’m right at the end. You can park in my space of course.”

  He slowed down. “That’s OK. I’ll just drop you off and turn around.”

  “Oh, but surely you’ll come in for a drink, Keir? Unless you have somewhere else to be?” Those catlike eyes dared him and questioned potential other engagements.

  He was about to say he’d work to do. But how sad that made him sound. Moira was by no means his preferred choice of company but she probably got lonely too. He had a suspicion she’d been in a long-term relationship and its conclusion prompted the relocation to Hartnett. What harm could it do to be sociable and spend half an hour in her company? Without any further thought as to the signal he might be sending, he parked his car in the space she indicated.

  ***

  Josh was in a grumpy mood. He chased his fish fingers round the plate. “Can I have more ketchup, please?” He sneaked a hopeful look at his mother.

  “Why don’t you use what’s on your plate first?’ Andrea nursed a mug of tea.

  Josh put down his fork and folded his arms.

  ‘What’s the matter, little mate?’

  His lower lip jutted. “I wish my daddy was here. You’re no good at football.”

  Ouch. “I know, sweetheart. But when you start at the proper school there’ll be loads of chances to play with other little boys and there’ll be teachers and daddies to help you.”

  “I’m a big boy. Uncle Rafa’s ace at football.”

  “Well, we’ll be going to see them again soon, so you can have some more coaching.” She reached for the ketchup bottle and brandished it like a trophy. “Do you want to eat up those peas and make room for a bit more tomato sauce? If you’re keen on football, Uncle Rafa will want to know if you’ve been eating enough to help you grow big and strong.”

  It did the trick. Josh even looked more cheerful. Andrea knew there would have been plenty of times when his dad wouldn’t have been around to do all the father and son things the little boy could possibly wish for. But this would have been compensated for when Greg came home on leave. And, if fate hadn’t decreed otherwise, she’d probably have been sitting opposite her husband at this moment, maybe switching off temporarily while the two males discussed whether the back lawn was big enough to erect one of those practice nets like Luis and his father had. It still seemed cruel, having happiness denied, so close to the end of Greg’s final tour.

  She pushed the thought away. “Brilliant, Josh. That’s the way to build muscles. Would
you like a pudding now?”

  Life went on and she needed to remember she was a fortunate woman to have a son and to have such excellent care in place for her mother. Her mind drifted to Keir, as she watched Josh select a carton of strawberry flavour yoghurt. She wondered how often the consultant managed to spend time with his daughter. Did they have regular contact? Maybe he had the technology in place at home so he spoke to her via Skype each weekend. She knew so little about his private life. It had been a mistake to sleep with him. She knew that now. Because how on earth could they expect to put back the clock, having overstepped that boundary? She could have wept. Instead she listened to Josh gabbling about a playground game. Her hands remained laced round her mug of rapidly cooling tea.

  ***

  Moira came back into her pretty sitting room, wine bottle in hand, and wearing, Keir noticed with a flash of alarm, what appeared to be a black cling film top with tight white jeans.

  “Sorry to keep you,” she said. “I like to freshen up after work. Won’t you change your mind and stay for supper, Keir? It’s no trouble to whip up an omelette. I have to eat anyway and it’s not often I have company these days. Let me top up your glass.”

  He felt guilty but still knew he should have dropped her off and run. Fraternising socially with his team on a one to one basis didn’t fit with his personal code and suddenly he regretted having come inside her house. No way should he risk setting himself up for a compromising situation with the nurse some of his colleagues referred to in private as ‘the honey trap’. He guessed they exaggerated but he didn’t want to find out. Worst of all was his awareness of a sophisticated woman on her own ground and doubtless revelling in his discomfiture. Keir wasn’t used to playing games, couldn’t be bothered to flirt and felt out of his depth and just a tad irritated. He could do without this.

  “I’m fine, really, Moira,” he said. “I should be getting off anyway.”

  She pouted. “We don’t often have the chance to talk in private and really get to know one another. Why not relax and have some more wine? I certainly intend to.”