Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 4
Page 43
‘I know.’ His fingers were still in her hair. And her knees were decidedly wobbly. ‘And you’re wearing what?’
‘An ordinary black tailcoat and trousers.’
She knew he was understating it—his outfit would be beautifully cut and hideously expensive—but that was who James was, what he’d grown up with. She had to learn to accept that about him.
‘So shall we give it a whirl?’
They went through their routine again, and with the dress it made everything feel much more real. And she felt exactly like the fairy princess in the tale.
At the end, he kissed her again. A sweet, slow kiss that made her bones melt. And then he took a step back. ‘Just so I can keep my promise to be a gentleman,’ he said softly.
‘OK, love?’ Rob settled Kate onto the sofa.
‘Just tired. I really didn’t expect it to hit me like this,’ she admitted. ‘I know women who’ve had radiotherapy in their coffee breaks.’
‘And others who’ve been sick as well as tired. Look on the bright side—you’ve been spared that.’ He fetched her a glass of water. ‘I’m just sorry that I have to go back to work next week and can’t take you to the rest of your sessions.’
‘Rob, you’ve spent your entire summer holidays looking after me. You’ve taken me to three weeks of radiotherapy,’ she said, ‘and you’ve been brilliant with the boys. You’ve had them doing chores without complaining, taken them out to burn off all that energy, and you’ve done more than your fair share of the cooking. I…I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’ She scrubbed at a tear. ‘And how much I hate being weepy and maudlin like this. It isn’t me.’
‘I know that, love.’ He leaned over to kiss her. ‘It’s the radiotherapy, making you feel tired and a bit low. And, besides, tears can be healing.’ He smiled wryly.
‘Everyone’s been so kind.’ Kate indicated the vases of flowers that filled the room—and there were just as many in the kitchen. ‘Every day someone brings me flowers.’ To the point where Rob had had to nip out and buy some extra vases. As soon as one vase had passed its best and she’d consigned them to the compost heap, within half an hour someone else would bring some in. ‘Polly’s been brilliant.’ She’d dropped in every day. ‘And everyone from the practice.’ Except Nick. Once he’d learned that Rob had moved in, he’d gone for complete avoidance. And Kate was surprised how much it still hurt.
‘That’s because,’ Rob said, ‘everyone loves you. And my guess is you’ve supported them in the past. And what goes around comes around. I think you’re amazing, and so do the boys.’
‘You’re pretty amazing yourself, Robert Werrick.’
He brushed the compliment aside. ‘So who’s taking you to the hospital next week? Because I warn you, Kate, if you’re even thinking about driving yourself, I’m going to confiscate your car keys.’
‘No, I’m not,’ she reassured him. ‘Polly’s already organised a rota, bless her. I was so worried about her, especially as this happened right at the time she came back and I haven’t been there to support her. She’s so strong in many ways, but still so fragile in others.’
‘Kate, don’t feel guilty. I’m sure she understands.’
‘She more than understands, bless her. She’s set it up so that she, Oliver, Dragan, Gabriel and Chloe are all doing one day a week, so that’s the two weeks covered.’
‘And the boys are both going to football training after school on the days when I’m doing after-school triathlon coaching,’ he said. ‘So you don’t have to worry about them—I’ll pick them up from their school when I’ve finished coaching at mine. Everything’s going to be just fine.’
And Kate was beginning to believe him.
On Saturday morning, Charlotte dropped in to see Melinda. ‘Oh, just look at them! They’re gorgeous,’ she said when she saw the puppies curled up asleep next to their mother. ‘Bramble, you’re such a clever girl.’
The flatcoat retriever’s tail thumped.
‘So how old are they now?’
‘Twelve days. They can see now,’ Melinda explained, ‘but they can’t hear yet.’
‘Would Bramble mind if I…?’
‘She’s used to people dropping in now,’ Melinda said with a smile.
Charlotte made a fuss of Bramble, then gently stroked one of the pups. ‘So soft. Do you have homes lined up for them all yet?’
‘I have a few people interested,’ Melinda said, ‘though they won’t be ready until near the end of October. Kate said she’d like one of the brown ones for Jem; if she’s not feeling quite up to dealing with a pup at that point, we’ll look after him for a bit longer. We want to keep one ourselves.’
‘Could you put me down for one of the black ones?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Anything to do with a certain person you think might be good with children and animals?’ Melinda asked.
‘Maybe,’ Charlotte said. ‘He did say something to me about wanting a dog when he was a boy.’
‘Ah. You know, I’ll have to meet him first—and I won’t be vetting him for you. I’ll be vetting him for the pup.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Of course. Though, if it helps, Pandora makes a beeline for him whenever he comes over and sprawls all over him.’
‘That’s a good sign. So you’re seeing him?’ Melinda asked.
‘I’m his dance partner at the charity ball.’
‘But it’s more than that, cara?’
Charlotte gave a shy nod.
‘Bene. I thought so. He’s chased away a lot of the shadows in your eyes. And don’t deny it. My Dragan’s the same,’ Melinda said with a gentle smile.
‘Do you think a pup would get on with Pandora?’
‘The wind’s blowing in that direction, cara?’
‘Too early to say. But just supposing…?’
‘Burmese blues are pretty sociable,’ Melinda said thoughtfully. ‘I know Pandora had a bad scare when her owner died, but she’s very settled with you. Obviously it’d take a few days for them to settle in together, but it’s a lot easier to introduce a pup into a house with an adult cat than it is to introduce a kitten into a house with an adult dog. I’d say you’d be fine.’
On Monday morning, James knocked on Charlotte’s office door. ‘Got a minute?’
‘Sure.’
He closed the door behind him, pulled the blinds, then drew her to her feet and kissed her thoroughly. ‘Mmm. That’s better. I’ve got some good news—I’ve managed to get the judges I wanted for the ball.’ He named some dancers that even Charlotte had heard of.
‘How did you manage that?’ she asked.
‘By shamelessly asking some of my mother’s friends,’ he said with a grin. ‘Anyway, w’re Edefinitely going to have the nationals covering us now.’
‘Nationals?’
‘Press. Which means we’ll get money coming in after the event.’
The national press.
Oh, no.
The last thing she wanted was the national press hanging around. Especially as someone might do some digging and connect her with a certain story from three years before…‘I’d rather not, James.’
‘Rather not what?’ He looked mystified.
‘Involve the national press. Look, this is a local thing. We don’t need the papers from London. And it’d be better to get the hospital press office to handle it for us.’
‘Charlotte, I’ve been dealing with the press for years. They’ll love this.’
‘I’d really rather not.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So if the papers are there, I won’t be.’
‘Why?’
‘Because…’ Now wasn’t the right place to tell him about Michael and the court case. ‘I prefer my life to be a bit more private.’ She still had no idea how she and James had managed to avoid being photographed together. But as soon as the national press came down here…she and James would have no privacy at all.
And as for what it meant for the crisis centre…
‘I don’t want
to be involved with the press,’ she said.
‘Charlotte. There’s nothing to worry about, really. It’ll be fine.’ He pressed a kiss into her palm and folded her fingers round it. ‘Look—’
But whatever he’d been going to say was interrupted by his bleeper. He checked the screen and grimaced. ‘Sorry. Got to go.’
‘But you’ll let the hospital press office handle it? And stick to just talking to the local newspaper?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Please?’
‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her. ‘I’ll sort everything out. See you later.’ He kissed her, and left her office.
Nobody at the hospital talked about anything else for the next few days except the ball. By Thursday, the entire place was buzzing. James and Charlotte had promised to go into the children’s ward just beforehand to give their patients a preview of Charlotte’s dress.
‘Dr Charlotte, you look just like a princess!’ Tammy, the patient James had operated on the previous week to close a hole in the heart, said. ‘And Dr James looks like Prince Charming.’
In a black tailcoat and trousers, a white wingtip shirt and a white bow-tie, Charlotte thought that James looked stunning. In his top pocket there was a silk square the same colour as her dress; typical James, paying attention to all the details.
‘You’re going to win,’ Tammy declared.
‘Maybe,’ Charlotte said with a smile. And maybe they were going to win something more important than a dance competition.
James had ordered them a limousine.
‘Surely I’m allowed to be flashy tonight?’ he teased.
‘Hmm,’ Charlotte said, though she couldn’t help smiling. He looked as excited as a little boy who’d just been told he could pick anything he liked from a toyshop.
At the ball, James was in his element—compering, persuading people to buy extra tombola tickets, smiling at everyone.
And he’d really pulled off the organisation. He had friends in TV who’d lent them special machines for the evening so that the audience could vote for their favourite dancers. He’d lined up four judges—Geoff Hunter, the head of surgery; Albert White, the hospital’s chief executive; and the two professional dancers he’d told her about, who were happy to sign autographs and had donated tickets for top seats to their own shows as tombola prizes. The hospital’s press officer was there, to Charlotte’s relief; although they’d never had a chance to finish that conversation, clearly James had listened to her worries about the press.
She’d never seen her colleagues do all the glamorous stuff before—a huge variety of dances, from a passionate tango through to a glitzy American smooth—and everyone was clearly enjoying themselves.
She and James were the last couple to dance. When James picked up the microphone again to announce them, her heart started thumping so hard and so loudly that she was sure the people either side of her must be able to hear it.
‘The cardio-surgical team has opted for a waltz,’ James said, ‘because there’s research proof that it’s good for your heart. W’re Ejust practising what we preach.’ He handed the microphone over to Geoff.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Geoff said as James walked over to Charlotte, ‘I give you the cardio-surgical team, Charlotte Walker and James Alexander.’
The cheering and clapping fuelled her nerves even more.
‘Stop panicking,’ James said in a low voice. ‘W’re Egoing to do just fine. We’ve done this every single day for the last month, and you know it works. Just pretend w’re Edancing in your living room and Pandora’s watching us.’
‘OK.’ But in her head she was thinking about dancing with him in that huge room overlooking the sea, and the way he’d kissed her.
And then she heard the first notes of the song: she and James were under the spotlight, waltzing, and it felt as though she were floating. At the very end, James was kissing her. Really kissing her. And it was only the sound of the applause that reminded her where they were and brought her to her senses.
Just.
The judges delivered their verdicts. Three nines—and a ten, which sent James straight into Cheshire cat mode.
‘Don’t forget it’s the audience vote that counts,’ James said, taking the microphone back. ‘Think about it while we have dinner and a dance ourselves, and w’re Egoing to announce the winner right at the very end.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE rest of the evening was a blur. Although Charlotte danced with other colleagues, she didn’t get the floaty feeling with them that she’d experienced in James’s arms. Every time she danced with James, it was as if all the lights were brighter and all the sparkly bits were glitzier. And to her surprise nobody teased her about that incredibly public kiss. Steffie just gave her a hug and whispered, ‘We all guessed that was the way things were going, and you make a fabulous couple. I’m so glad for you.’
And then it was time for the final announcement. Charlotte was expecting it to go to Lisa and Matt, who’d danced the tango incredibly professionally. But then James’s TV friend finished totting up the votes, and whispered to Albert White.
The chief exec made a mercifully short speech, and then smiled. ‘I’m delighted to announce that the winning couple is the cardio-surgical team.’ Charlotte was too stunned to say a word. All she could do was follow James as he took her hand and tugged her along beside him.
‘This is a first,’ James said. ‘I’m used to Charlotte being quiet, but not speechless. Thank you very much for voting for us, and I hope you’ve had as good a time this evening as we have. Your generosity has helped us raise a huge amount of money…’ there were gasps when he named the amount ‘…and I’d like to split it between three very deserving causes. Firstly, to the Friends of the Hospital, because they really do make a difference; secondly, to the cardiac department at St Piran’s; and, thirdly, to the rape crisis centre that my brilliant dance partner has set up in Penhally. Thank you all very much.’
Flashbulbs were going off everywhere, there was so much noise that Charlotte could barely make out a word anyone was saying to her—and she was completely overwhelmed.
She hadn’t expected this at all. She’d assumed that if they won—and she’d doubted that—James would want to split the money between the Friends of the Hospital and maybe the cath lab. But he’d put the spotlight on the rape crisis centre.
He hadn’t given her the vaguest hint—and that showed her just how little she really did know him. Although part of her was delighted to know there was money coming in to help train volunteers for the helpline and to pay for counselling sessions for those who needed them, she still couldn’t get past the fact that James hadn’t even discussed it with her first.
He’d been completely high-handed about it.
And those flashbulbs…They had to be more than just the local papers. Even knowing that she didn’t want the nationals there, he’d just gone straight ahead with what he wanted.
So much for thinking that he was nothing like Michael. He, too, had completely ignored her requests.
She was so hurt and angry that she couldn’t say a word.
‘What’s wrong?’ James asked, a few minutes later when she still hadn’t said much.
‘Bit of a headache.’ It wasn’t a complete fib. There was a tight, nagging band around her forehead.
‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘No need. You’ve got things to sort out here. I’ll get a taxi.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’ The quicker she was out of there, the better. Before she said something unforgivable to him. She needed time to cool down.
‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.
‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
‘Of course. You need some sleep to get rid of that headache. Just text me when you get in, so I know you’re home safely. And I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said.
Except the following morning turned out to be even more difficult. When Charlotte rounded the corner to go into the hospital, she saw
a pack of people waiting outside the main entrance.
As she drew closer, she could see cameras. And all of a sudden the pack turned and surged towards her. Flashbulbs popped, people were calling her name and yelling out questions, all talking at once. Instinctively, she raised her hand to her face and pushed her way through the crowd, not saying a word.
She’d seen this kind of thing in films and on television, but never in real life. All this, just because she’d won a dance competition in a charity ball? Ridiculous.
People in the corridor glanced at her curiously; some nudged others and whispered and pointed.
It wasn’t until she passed the hospital shop and saw the newspaper stand that she realised what was really going on.
PLAYBOY DOC DANCES INTO HER HEART DOCTOR KISSES PLAYBOY BETTER
She stared at the headlines in disbelief. One of the papers even had a photograph of her dancing with James, showing that kiss at the end.
Oh, no. How could she have been so stupid? Even when they’d had a quiet dinner in the pub, they’d been snapped by the press. She should’ve realised that this sort of thing would happen. That even if it had just been the local papers there, the press would ignore the story about the money they’d raised and focus on James’s personal life. And as the nationals were there…
This was bad.
She glanced quickly through the papers. At least there was nothing about Liverpool. For now. But it wouldn’t take long for the press to dig it up. She’d wanted to stop Michael hurting someone else and to get help for him, so she’d agreed to waive her right to anonymity and she’d been named in the press. Bitter as it had felt at the time, she’d done it for the greater good. To make sure that justice was done.
Nobody in St Piran knew what had happened in Liverpool. She hadn’t talked about it even to Steffie or Tim, the colleagues she was closest to, and when they found out the truth, they’d be so hurt that she’d shut them out.
But it hadn’t been like that.
She’d wanted a fresh start, that was all. Somewhere that her name wasn’t known. She’d been so happy here; and now it was going to be spoiled. Instead of people seeing the young, capable doctor they’d worked with for nearly two years, they’d see a victim.