by Sarah Morgan
Glenda buried her face in her hands. ‘I just don’t want her to have to go into a home. But I know that I can’t carry on like this either, and that makes me feel so selfish.’
‘You’re not selfish, Glenda,’ Anna said quietly, ‘and it’s about finding a compromise that works for both of you. Why don’t you stop worrying about it until after the appointment? The consultant will be able to assess your mother properly and give you some idea of the future and the options available.’
Glenda nodded and breathed out heavily. ‘I suppose that’s good advice. It’s just that your mind keeps running forward. What if she just can’t manage at home any more? What if she isn’t safe? To be honest, every morning when I leave the house I wonder whether she’s going to have burned it down by the time I come home. It’s a nightmare.’
‘Well, there are definitely practical things you can do to at least help in that department,’ Anna reminded her. ‘You can get safety devices installed—gas detectors, smoke alarms, that sort of thing.’
Glenda nodded. ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose admitting there’s a problem is the first step to doing something about it. At least now it’s out in the open.’ She looked at Anna and her eyes filled. ‘I was so afraid that I’d lose my job.’
‘You’re part of the practice, Glenda,’ Anna said gruffly, leaning forward and giving the older woman a hug. ‘You belong here and we’ll work through this together. You’ll never lose your job.’
Glenda scrubbed her palm across her face and sniffed loudly. ‘Don’t be kind to me. It makes it worse. But you’re such a lovely girl. And your dad would have been so proud of you.’
‘It’s going to be OK, Glenda,’ Anna said softly. ‘We’ll work something out. Somehow we’ll get you whatever help you need.’
* * *
The issue of Glenda and her mother occupied Anna’s mind for the next few days, and she managed to do a reasonable job of avoiding Sam. As usual, she ate lunch on the run and in the evening she headed for the beach and jogged along the sand, returning just late enough to avoid the possibility of sharing dinner. She didn’t want to sit down opposite Sam again. Didn’t want to risk feeling something that she didn’t want to feel. Something complicated.
All in all, she was doing fine. Life was back to normal.
It was just a shame she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind, she thought crossly as she pushed open the door of the surgery first thing one morning.
It was just because it had been so unexpected, she consoled herself. They’d had a nice evening—she frowned as she remembered it, an unusually nice evening—and they’d both just got a bit carried away. Weren’t emotions always more intense at night-time? If they kissed during the day they probably wouldn’t feel anything at all. Nothing.
When she walked into Reception, Glenda was already at her desk, looking more relaxed than she had in weeks.
‘How did it go? I tried to call you last night.’ Anna knew Glenda had taken her mother to the hospital the day before but when she’d tried to phone there’d been no answer.
Glenda blushed slightly. ‘Actually, after we got back from the hospital, I went for a drink with a friend. I needed to relax and Mum seemed fine so I popped out.’
Anna hid her curiosity, even though she was dying to ask whether the ‘friend’ was male or female. Privately she hoped it was male. Glenda needed someone to brighten up her life. ‘So what did the hospital say?’
‘They were really positive and helpful, actually,’ Glenda admitted, brushing her hair away from her face. ‘And they had lots of amazingly practical suggestions. Like looking for things that trigger her aggressive behaviour. When I talked about it with them, I realised that she gets really, really angry just before she goes to the toilet. So now I know that I need to watch for that and make sure that she gets to the toilet. Who would have thought it could have been brought on by something as simple as that?’
Anna nodded. ‘What else?’
‘Well, they’ve got this great day centre where she can go and get involved in all sorts of activities. They do things like art and music therapy. Apparently it gives patients a sense of achievement and that helps to ease some of the frustration.’
‘And it means that you can relax, knowing that she’s in safe hands.’ Anna was relieved that Glenda had been offered some help and support.
Glenda nodded. ‘And you were right about them giving me lots of practical tips. They’re going to send a nurse round to assess the home, but they’ve said that it’s important to minimise clutter. Apparently that should help to reduce Mum’s agitation.’
Anna grinned. ‘Hope they never come and look at my house. I invented clutter.’
‘And I can vouch for that.’ Sam strolled up, smothering a yawn. He looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping properly. ‘Living with you, Riggs, is a bit like being in a permanent car boot sale. It’s a good job your house purchase fell through. You and your belongings never would have fitted into old Jack Lawson’s place on the beach. If it didn’t already suffer from subsidence, it would have done the minute you moved in. No building could stand the weight of your belongings.’
Anna scowled at him. ‘And you’re so domesticated and tidy, of course.’
Sam smiled and winked at Glenda. ‘At least I can cook.’
‘I can cook.’ Anna put her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed. How could she have wanted to kiss him? All she wanted to do at the moment was punch him for being so smug and infuriating. ‘It’s just I don’t choose to spend my time slaving over a hot stove for something that vanishes within seconds of being put on the table. It’s the ultimate waste of time.’
‘What you do to food can’t be described as cooking. Is that for me, Glenda?’ Sam leaned across the reception desk and picked up his post. ‘By the way, we’re filming the emergency clinic this morning. And then this afternoon I’m doing a piece to camera on the beach.’
‘Will you be wearing your wet suit and carrying a surfboard?’ Anna’s tone dripped sarcasm and he gave her a solemn look, one that he often used for the camera when he was addressing a serious topic.
‘No, I’m doing my caring, responsible doctor bit.’ Then he grinned and walked towards his father’s consulting room.
Glenda watched him go. ‘He’s amazing, isn’t he? Do you know that he spent the whole of yesterday evening installing gadgets in my house?’
Anna stared at her. ‘Gadgets?’
‘Yes.’ Glenda nodded and ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Smoke alarm, some fancy gas thing—and an alarm for Mum. And he shifted some furniture for me. He’s incredibly strong.’
Anna inhaled sharply. She didn’t want to think about Sam’s muscles. It brought back memories of his body pressed hard against hers. Memories she was trying extremely hard to forget.
She was still trying not to think about his muscles when Hilda Wakeman hurried in, carrying a large bag.
‘Hello, Hilda.’ Anna’s face brightened. Hilda ran the upmarket delicatessen on the quay and Anna was her most frequent customer. ‘How’s business?’
‘Brisk. I’ve been up since four-thirty, baking and cooking. It’s the only way to keep up with demand. I think tourists eat more than they used to.’ Hilda put the bags down. ‘Is Dr McKenna around?’
‘Just gone into surgery to catch up on some phone calls.’ Glenda reached for the phone. ‘I’ll buzz him for you.’
‘No need to bother him. Just wanted to say thank you, that’s all.’ Hilda gave Anna a rueful smile. ‘He did me a good turn yesterday and I always repay a favour.’
It appeared that Sam had done everyone a good turn yesterday, Anna reflected. For a man who professed not to enjoy harbour life, he seemed to have thrown himself back into the community with a commendable amount of dedication.
But it wasn’t permanent, she reminded herself.
He was just playing at being a semi-rural GP. He’d be back to the bright lights and the glamour as soon as the summer was over and his fa
ther was back.
Sam walked out of his surgery, his face brightening when he saw Hilda. ‘My favourite cook!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘No more problems since yesterday?’
‘None.’ Hilda smiled warmly. ‘Thank goodness you were there.’ She turned to Anna. ‘Little Nancy, who works for me, cut her finger really badly. Fortunately Sam was passing and brought her up here and did the honours.’
‘She needed a couple of stitches. It was a nasty cut. Is she feeling all right today?’
‘I’ve got her working the till and taking it quietly. I did tell her to stay at home but, knowing how busy we are at the moment, she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s a good girl.’ Hilda picked up the bags. ‘Now, knowing that you’re living with Dr Riggs at the moment, I’m guessing you won’t be eating that well, so I’ve got some things for you here, Dr McKenna, so that you don’t have to worry about cooking tonight.’
Anna gritted her teeth. One of the drawbacks of living in a small village was that everyone knew everything about everyone else. Including the fact that she loathed cooking. ‘He isn’t living with me, Hilda—’
‘Well, you’re sharing a house, which amounts to the same thing,’ Hilda said briskly, peering into the bag to remind herself of the contents. ‘Marinaded olives, a delicious aubergine salad that the two of you can have as a starter, and—’
‘The two of us?’ Sam strolled towards her and hooked a finger into the bag. ‘Looks fantastic, Hilda. But who are you planning to feed?’
‘Well, you and Dr Riggs, of course. Stuck up there in that house on your own and both of you too busy to turn round, let alone cook.’ Hilda smacked the back of his hand sharply. ‘Don’t poke the food. It needs to go straight in the fridge in this heat otherwise you’ll be poisoned and blaming me. I’ve got my reputation to think of.’
Ignoring her stern expression, Sam peered into the bag and sniffed. ‘Smells fantastic. I think your reputation as the area’s best cook is still intact, Hilda.’
Glenda stood up, her eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Why don’t I pop all that in the fridge in the kitchen and you can take it home when you go? Dr Riggs will be delighted. She hates cooking, as you know, Hilda.’
‘Of course I know,’ Hilda said comfortably. ‘It’s the reason she stops by almost every night and picks up something for her dinner. But I thought I’d save you the trouble tonight. And I thought I’d make something a bit special by way of a thank you. There’s a lovely seafood pie and fresh apple crumble with clotted cream.’
Anna grunted, torn between pleasure at the anticipation of one of Hilda’s dinners and irritation at the fact that everyone was discussing her lack of culinary skills so freely. ‘I don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with the fact that I don’t cook. Does a woman always have to cook?’
‘Not when they have a deli like mine in the village,’ Hilda said calmly, handing the last of the bags to Glenda to store in the fridge. ‘And my Geoff popped an excellent bottle of white in the bag, too. A sauvignon blanc, that’s his personal favourite. And I added a lovely scented candle. Have a good evening.’
With that she winked at them both and hurried back to her car.
‘Scented candle?’ Sam stared after her. ‘What the hell was that all about? Give me the wine and the food, definitely, but what’s with the scented candle?’
Anna scowled and raked her hair out of her eyes. ‘You heard. She knows I can’t cook and she thinks I’m starving you. Although why I’m supposed to be responsible for the contents of your stomach, goodness knows. And I haven’t got a clue about the scented candle. Perhaps it’s to keep wasps away.’
‘Nothing to do with wasps. She’s matchmaking,’ Glenda said calmly, fishing in the bag and removing the candle. ‘Oh, look—it’s one of those special ones set in driftwood. It’s so pretty. It’ll look lovely on that table on your deck. How romantic.’
She put it carefully back in the bag and Anna felt her colour rise. ‘Romantic? Matchmaking?’
Glenda smiled and stowed the bag carefully behind Reception. ‘Of course. The whole village is hoping that the two of you will fall in love and set up shop together. It would be a fairy-tale ending.’
There was a pulsing silence.
For a moment Anna stood still, totally speechless. Then her temper exploded. ‘Since when did fairy tales come with loud arguments and the threat of physical injury?’ She whirled round and glared at Sam. ‘Don’t just stand there laughing! Say something!’
Sam ran a hand over his face but his blue eyes gleamed with humour. ‘Looks like I don’t have to cook dinner tonight.’
Anna all but stamped her foot. ‘How can you be so calm? They think you’re going to stay, McKenna. Step into your father’s place.’ She bit her lip. ‘They’re trying to… They want us to…’ She couldn’t even bring herself to voice the idea, it was so ridiculous.
‘Get together,’ Sam finished for her helpfully, his gaze disconcertingly direct. ‘They just want a doctor they know. You can’t blame them for that. And matchmaking goes on all the time in villages.’
‘Between people who like each other, McKenna,’ Anna reminded him tartly. ‘We don’t like each other.’
He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘No, that’s right. We don’t, do we?’
Something in his tone made her remember the kiss and she blushed. ‘Well, finally we agree on something. I haven’t got time to stand around here all day, talking about village gossip. I’ve got work to do.’
‘Me, too.’
Glenda glanced between them and sighed. ‘Well, if the two of you are arguing too much to eat Hilda’s food, give me a call and I’ll come and eat it.’
* * *
‘You’re seriously going to sit down and eat dinner with the whole harbour watching?’
His eyes flickered along the bay. ‘You’re paranoid. I don’t see anyone showing any interest in us.’
She grunted and swept her hair back from her face. ‘That’s because you’re used to living in London and you automatically assume that no one is interested in you. Here, everyone is interested in you. You should remember that. Somewhere out there someone probably has a telescope fixed on this deck and they’re watching our every move. Light that candle and we may as well book the church.’
‘Your wrong, actually. In my job it’s like being in a goldfish bowl. But, frankly, I don’t care who’s watching. There’s no way I’m wasting this food.’ Sam put a loaded plate in the middle of the table. ‘You can go and eat baked beans in your bedroom if you prefer. I won’t tell anyone.’
Anna stared at the aubergine salad and felt her mouth water. ‘You’ll never eat all that by yourself.’
‘Never underestimate my appetites,’ he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes as he surveyed her. ‘And I should probably point out that if you carry on being this jumpy around me, the village is going to be gossiping even more than it is at the moment.’
‘I’m not jumpy.’
One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘Riggs, you’re like a kangaroo. The moment I enter a room, you bounce out of it. This is as good a time as any to ask you why.’
She glared at him. ‘Don’t flatter yourself it has anything to do with you. I’m a busy woman. Lots to do.’
‘If you say so.’ With smooth, measured movements he finished laying the table. ‘I’m just warning you how it might look from the outside. And don’t be embarrassed. I’m avoiding you, too.’
‘You are?’
‘That’s right. It’s the only way I can concentrate and get any work done. Now, are you eating or not? The seafood pie is heating in the oven so we need to get started.’
Anna stared at him.
He was having trouble concentrating?
He was thinking about her? Suddenly she felt unsettled and she wasn’t used to feeling unsettled. She was used to knowing where her life was going. To being in control. Around Sam McKenna, she didn’t feel in control at all.
Her brain told her to leave but her taste buds had other ideas. ‘All
right, we’ll share the meal. But we’ll live to regret it. I’m willing to bet that someone is watching.’
‘Let them watch.’ Sam sprawled in a chair and lifted his beer, his eyes resting on the surf.
‘You used to hate all that. The fact that everyone knew everything about you,’ she reminded him, picking at an olive. ‘It was one of the reasons you couldn’t wait to go to London. You wanted to be anonymous.’ She laughed as she realised what she’d said. ‘Not that you’re exactly anonymous, Dr Hotshot.’
His eyes swivelled to hers. ‘I’m just a normal, everyday kind of guy.’
‘I hate to disillusion you, but you’ve never been normal, McKenna.’ She took another olive, admired its shiny blackness before popping it into her mouth. ‘Arrogant, self-assured and wrong about virtually everything. Never normal. These olives are good. What exactly does Hilda do to them?’
‘No idea, but they’re always sold by lunch-time so it must be something special. How long has my dad been struggling?’
The swift change of subject threw her, just as he’d known it would. ‘Most of last winter,’ she admitted finally, dropping an olive stone onto her empty plate. ‘He had a chest infection in October that he just couldn’t throw off. After that he just seemed to slow down. I kept hoping he’d pick up but he never did.’
‘Damn.’ Sam stretched long legs in front of him. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice. He just seemed the same to me.’
Anna stared across the beach. ‘That’s the strange thing about parents. You see them the way you think they are—the way they’ve always been—rather than the way they really are. I remember it took me ages to realise how ill Dad was. To me he was just Dad. And then I came home from university one holiday and for a moment I saw him as other people must see him. And I realised he’d aged. And lost weight. And grown old somewhere along the way. I just hadn’t noticed.’
