Second Lover

by Gill Sanderson

  ‘Do you feel better for telling me?’ he asked.

  She considered. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘D’you know, I think I do?’

  ‘Good. Now, it’s time we were getting back. See, it’s dark.’

  She looked round a moment. ‘This has been a wonderful day, Ross. Will you bring me back again some time?

  ‘I’d really like to,’ he said.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There was more traffic on the road going home. Apparently much of London had decided to take advantage of the fine weather and travel to the seaside. After they had driven for an hour, Lyn said, ‘That’s the third time you’ve yawned; you’re getting tired. Pull over and I’ll drive for a while. It’s your turn to sleep.’

  Ross looked at her uncertainly. ‘You’ll drive? This is quite a big vehicle, you might find—’

  ‘Stop thinking that the only car a woman can drive is a Mini. You’ve got power steering and, besides, I’ve probably spent more hours driving a Land Rover than you have. Now, if you carry on you’ll be a danger on the road.’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ he muttered, but he pulled over anyway and offered her the driver’s seat. It took her a while to adjust the seat height and mirrors, but then she moved confidently onto the road and soon was moving as quickly as the traffic would allow.

  For perhaps five minutes, he watched her. Then he said, ‘I was a fool to doubt you. Everything I’ve seen you do, you do well. Can you find your way back to your flat?’

  ‘Easily. Don’t forget, I live in north London.’

  ‘Wake me if there’s a problem.’ As she had done, he reclined his seat and soon was apparently asleep. She felt pleased with his confidence in her.

  It was nearly eleven when they drew up outside her flat. He woke at once as they stopped. The last time he had brought her home she had not wanted him to come in with her, but this time she rather wished he would. ‘It’s getting late but you can come in for a coffee if you like,’ she said. ‘It’ll wake you up for the journey down to Lizzie’s.’

  ‘I’d like a coffee,’ he said. ‘More than that, I want to see where you live.’

  She was curious. ‘Why?’

  ‘The… surroundings people choose for themselves say something about their characters. I’ll know you better when I’ve seen inside your flat.’

  ‘I think you know me pretty well already,’ she told him.

  He was more interested in the flat than he was in coffee, so she started the percolator and showed him round. First, however, there was one fact to be made quite clear. ‘I lived here with Gavin. We were going to get married and we didn’t see any reason to have two homes while we were waiting.’

  ‘Seems eminently sensible,’ he assured her. ‘But you didn’t want to move out when he died?’

  She waved him over to the living room window, showing him the view of the lights of London below. If anything, it was more impressive at night than in the day. ‘I picked this flat because I fell in love with this view. I was determined I wasn’t going to be driven out by ghosts, by memories. And I asked myself, what would I have wanted, if I had died leaving the flat to Gavin? I would have wanted him to stay here. In fact, there was a dual life insurance on the place, so it was paid off in full. The flat is mine now.’

  ‘I like it.’ He looked round the decor. ‘But this isn’t a man’s choice of furnishing. You decorated, made a lot of changes, didn’t you?

  ‘I made it mine,’ she told him.

  He looked at the bathroom, the kitchen, her bedroom, the living room. He admired them all. ‘There’s quite a big roof space as well,’ she told him. ‘There’s a ladder that pulls down. It’s handy for storing stuff that you don’t need very often.’

  And then they were left with the one room she hadn’t showed him. He didn’t ask, merely looked at her expressionlessly.

  She told him what she had told Merry. ‘This room is locked. In it I put all the things that had belonged to Gavin, all the reminders of our life together. I was starting a new life.’

  ‘Why lock it?’ he asked. ‘Is that where you have placed the ghosts? How long since you looked inside?’

  He was being tough with her. She would be tough back.

  ‘I’ve not looked inside for a couple of months,’ she told him, ‘but I’ll fetch the key now.’

  He watched in silence as she fetched the key from the drawer in the kitchen, unlocked the door and threw it open. Together they looked at the dusty furniture, the boxes of papers and pictures. Saddest of all was a pair of old climbing boots.

  ‘I’ll get rid of most of it soon,’ she said, knowing that her voice was shaking slightly. ‘I just haven’t had time to sort through it all, really.’

  Gently he pulled her away, took the key from her hand, and relocked the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m pushing you through a lot of feelings that you’re not quite ready for. You need more time.’

  ‘No. Sometimes people need a push. I’m glad you made me open the door. It’s only old furniture and things for which there now is little use.’

  She took the key from him, and unlocked the door. ‘From now on that door stays unlocked. The room is part of my flat.’

  It was time to move onto something else. She took him into the tiny kitchen alcove, and poured him a coffee. ‘Just a small one,’ he said. ‘I should go soon. You’re at work tomorrow, and I’m back at Everton Heights.’

  ‘I’ll be working with Melissa,’ Lyn said, thinking that it wouldn’t be as much fun as working with Ross.

  ‘So you will.’ He drained his cup, stood, moved towards the door, and she followed him. In the hall he turned, and took her by the shoulders. ‘Lyn, I think I’m getting too old to be seen kissing people in doorways. So…’ He pulled her gently towards him.

  His last kiss had been sweet, like the kiss of a relative. This kiss started sweetly too. But soon there was passion as she clutched him closer to her. It broke over her like a dam bursting. This was what she needed, had been missing. She needed a man like Ross, to hold her, to kiss her like this, to—

  He broke away from her, and she knew he felt the same way as she did. He said, ‘This isn’t the time and place. But we’ll be seeing each other again, Lyn.’

  ‘I’ve enjoyed today so much,’ she told him. ‘You’ve given me so much to think about.’

  ‘Take things easy, sweetheart. A little progress at a time.’

  He kissed her again, quickly. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow.’

  When he had gone she undressed, ran herself a bath, and slid into it. She had enjoyed today, and there was so much to think about. The first thing, of course, was Ross.

  She had never met a man who affected her so much. And yet she’d sworn to herself never to have anything to do with a man like him. It was a problem. For now she would shelve it.

  ‘Hello, Doctor Lyn,’ said Fatima, smiling.

  ‘Hello, Fatima,’ Lyn said, and then tried a mouthful of strange sounds she had been taught by the Arab staff nurse. It was supposed to be a traditional greeting, and Lyn thought she’d mastered it. Not so Fatima. She tried hard not to giggle but couldn’t quite manage it.

  ‘It is…’ she said, and produced what Lyn thought were exactly the same sounds.

  Lyn tried again—and this time Fatima indicated that things were a bit better. If she has as much trouble learning English as I have learning Arabic, then she has my sympathy, Lyn thought. It’s harder than French.

  ‘Just a few comics,’ she said to Fatima. ‘If you don’t read them you can look at the pictures.’ Fatima reached for the comics happily. Sometimes Lyn wondered what impression she had of English society from them, but they kept her contented.

  ‘I’ll drop in and see you later,’ she said, and the now engrossed Fatima waved at her. She was making good progress, there appeared to be no complications, and there was apparently no permanent damage because of the compression of the brain. Fatima had been lucky.

  ‘Had a good weekend?’ Melissa asked as they che
cked through the series of reports that had come back from the lab.

  Lyn paused before answering. She would have preferred Melissa not to know what she had been doing, but she wasn’t going to lie.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I went out sailing with Ross on Sunday,’ she said. ‘He’d borrowed his brother’s boat.’

  Just for a moment Melissa stopped leafing through the reports, but her voice was calm and pleasant as she went on. ‘I thought you didn’t care for that sort of thing.’

  ‘I’ve done a lot of it in my time,’ Lyn said cautiously. ‘I just don’t care for men who wander off to foreign parts leaving their women behind.’

  Melissa wasn’t insensitive. ‘That was said with feeling,’ she said, ‘as if you meant it, you’d felt it. Was there a man like that in your past?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lyn. ‘But I’m not going to talk about it.’

  He was only in for the afternoon. ‘If you have time,’ Ross said, ‘you could assist me in an operation. Right temporal lobectomy. Barbara, aged thirteen—she’s been referred to me by a hospital in the Midlands. I’ve had her in Everton Heights but I want to operate here.’

  ‘I’d love to assist,’ Lyn said, delighted, ‘but tell me something about the case.’

  ‘She suffers from psychomotor epilepsy. There’s a small tumour in the lobe, and I think removing it will cure the epilepsy. I’ve done an MRI scan, an EEG, and assessed speech and memory. You can look at the notes if you like.’

  ‘I would like,’ Lyn said. ‘I thought surgery for epilepsy was a bit unusual.’

  ‘It is. But I’m convinced there’s a good chance of Barbara being cured. And curing an epileptic is wonderful news—for the family as well as the patient. Two thirty, then?’

  Watching Ross operate was an education. Everything he did appeared so simple and so easy. The craniotomy came first, and he let her drill the initial burr holes. Then he eased the flap of bone backwards and the brain was revealed. His movements were deft as he cut, retracted, and separated. Then, marvellously quickly, it was done.

  ‘Easy, isn’t it?’ he asked her.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t think it is.’

  ‘I’ve got a confession,’ Ross said when he phoned her at home two nights later.

  She was glad that he had phoned. She got a buzz at the sound of his voice. But—a confession?

  ‘What sort of confession?’

  ‘You know the hospital is having a big party for Halloween? The staff association has been working at it for weeks.’

  ‘I think I’ve heard about it.’ What was he going to say? Her heart beat a little faster.

  ‘Well, I’ve been invited. Melissa came over specially to see me, she said her father and brother were coming to the do, and would I like to join them at their table? She says her father would very much like to chat to me and I feel a bit honoured, because he’s quite an eminent cardiologist. So I said yes, I’d love to meet him.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,’ Lyn said desolately.

  ‘Wait a minute, don’t jump to conclusions. This is the confession bit. I told her that I was flattered, but that I’d already asked you to accompany me. Which I would have got round to. Anyway, Melissa said that was no problem at all, wouldn’t you like to come and join them too? She said there was no chance of Henry turning up, otherwise it would be nice to see the department all together. How d’you feel?’

  Lyn had mixed feelings. First, she was glad that Ross wanted to go with her. There was still her long-term worry, of course, that he was not her kind of man. But she wanted to go to the party with him and she would have preferred to go with him alone. She wasn’t sure about joining Melissa’s party, but the woman hadn’t been half as unpleasant to her as she could have been. And Ross seemed quite to want to meet the father.

  ‘I’d love to go in a gang,’ she said. ‘It’s always more fun if there are lots of people together.’

  ‘Good, I’ll phone Melissa. Are you missing me, Lyn?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but I’m coping with it very well.’ She heard him laughing as he rang off.

  Next day she found a quiet moment and told Merry about the party invitation. Surprisingly; Merry was more suspicious than she had been herself. ‘Melissa’s accustomed to getting her own way, Lyn,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t like being crossed. I told you she’d never do anything unprofessional, and I know she’s a good doctor, if a bit cool, but she needs to be watched.’

  ‘Surely you’re exaggerating?’ Lyn said.

  ‘If she thinks she’s right, then she can be quite vicious.’ Merry looked troubled. ‘I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will. There was trouble with a nurse on the ward here before I came. I gather she wasn’t much of a nurse, idle and careless, but she might have made something of herself. Possibly. Anyway, one day she didn’t follow Melissa’s instructions properly. She didn’t give a dose of drugs when they were needed, and a baby became quite ill. Very properly Melissa didn’t say anything until there had been an official enquiry and the nurse found at fault. Then she found that my predecessor, the nurse in charge before I came, was going to give the nurse another chance. Not a second one, but about a tenth chance. So Melissa told the nurse in charge and the nurse herself, that the nurse might as well leave at once. No matter what tribunals, appeals, systems were in place, she was going to see that the girl was finished as a nurse. She resigned the same day.’

  Lyn thought about this story. The more she thought, the more she found it entirely believable. ‘So what d’you think of the story?’ she asked Merry.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t have the nerve to try such a thing. But from what I can gather, the ward was a happier, better place when the nurse had gone. Just pointing out that Melissa can be ruthless.’

  ‘Right,’ muttered Lyn.

  She hadn’t really calmed down when later that afternoon Melissa approached her on her ward, smiled at Fatima, and said, ‘I do hope you’ll join us at the Halloween party. Ross said he was coming with you and it would be nice if we could be together. My father and brother are coming too.’

  ‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ said Lyn, now feeling thoroughly ashamed.

  On Friday night she went to tea with Merry and her husband. Richard had finished his medical course and was in his third year training to be a GP. Lyn had met him before.

  ‘He’s not called a trainee any more,’ Merry said with a giggle. ‘Apparently some young doctor somewhere thought it a bit degrading after all those years’ work. So now he’s called a registrar.’

  ‘Seems fair enough,’ Lyn said. ‘What’s he going to do when he qualifies?’

  ‘He’s been offered a junior partnership in the practice he’s working at. He’s very happy there, so he’s going to accept.’

  She led Lyn through to the back of the house, seated her in the large, open-plan kitchen, and draped a cloth over her shoulder and front. ‘Now, you’re going to have to work for your supper while I finish off the casserole.’

  From a cot she took the gently grumbling baby, placed him in Lyn’s arms and handed her a bottle. ‘You can feed the young master and I’ll see what I can do to feed us.’

  Lyn watched happily as the baby’s eyes twitched open and shut, as the little pink mouth rooted for the teat and then grabbed it with such enthusiasm. ‘You know, we see too many ill babies,’ she said to Merry. ‘We tend to forget they are in the minority. I think every baby doctor should be frequently exposed to a set of healthy children. It gets the perspectives right.’

  From the front of the house came the sound of someone entering, and seconds later Richard entered the kitchen.

  He kissed his wife, put a hand on Lyn’s shoulder to stop her getting up, bent and kissed Nathan’s head, then kissed Lyn on the cheek. ‘All this kissing,’ he said. ‘What a lovely way to spread germs.’

  Lyn laughed. She didn’t know Richard very well but she liked him. He was a short, stubby man with twinkling eyes and an ability to get on wit
h people. Before training as a doctor he had been a nurse, and Lyn had always thought that the double skills were very useful.

  Richard poured himself a white wine and looked at Merry and Lyn. Both shook their heads.

  ‘How’s being a GP?’ Lyn asked. ‘Merry says you’re enjoying it.’

  ‘I am. Totally different from hospital work. It teaches you that…’ he thought for a moment, ‘…that little things are very important. If you’re in hospital, then that’s the central fact of your life. You think most about getting better. But if you’re being treated out of hospital, having to get on with your life, your work, and your family, then your illness or whatever has to take second place.’

  This interested Lyn, for she’d never thought of it like that before. ‘Go on,’ she said curiously.

  ‘Well, you know the number of people who start on antibiotics, and then think they’re getting better and just don’t bother to finish the course?’

  Lyn did know. It was a constant concern among medical staff, because not finishing a course of antibiotics could lead to a resistance to the drug if it needed to be used later.

  ‘It makes me angry,’ she said. ‘We always warn people about it.’

  ‘I used to feel angry too. But now I have just a touch of sympathy. Simply remembering to take a tablet three times a day can be too much for some busy people.’

  ‘But surely their health is important.’

  ‘Of course it is. But so is the rest of their life. That’s why I said that little things are important. When a GP gets a new patient and takes a history, it shouldn’t just be of an illness, it should be of an entire lifestyle. There might be an ideal treatment for a condition. But the patient’s lifestyle might make that treatment impossible.’

  Lyn thought about this. She could see Richard’s nursing training coming through, and thought it was a good thing. ‘But does a GP have time to take a history of a lifestyle?’ she asked.

  Richard laughed. ‘Now that is the important question. I’m afraid the answer is often no.’

  Lyn had finished feeding the baby now, burped him with some success, and wiped his mouth.