‘Abruptio placentae. It often is pretty abrupt, as well.’
Sue chuckled. ‘Mine certainly was, good heavens. Anyway, she’s fine. We’ve called her Sally, after you— I hope you don’t mind?’
Sally’s skin prickled all over, and her eyes filled. ‘Oh, Sue…’
‘Well—we reckoned if you hadn’t been so thorough and warned me so much to tell you the second it got any worse, I might have just got Pete to take me to hospital, and by then she probably would have been dead.’
Sally shuddered, and laid a hand gently over the baby. ‘Don’t. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘Do you want to hold her?’
Sally looked down at the tiny little scrap and her arms ached. ‘It seems such a shame to wake her…’
‘She probably won’t. She sleeps like a log. Just pick her up.’
Sally slid her hands under the tiny baby and lifted her against her shoulder.
‘Oh, she smells lovely—new!’
Sue grinned. ‘Gorgeous, isn’t it? Does it bring back memories?’
‘Oh, yes—not that mine were ever this tiny.’ She smoothed the soft down on the baby’s head and sighed. ‘Ben was almost twice this size when he was born, and Molly wasn’t much smaller. They smelt the same, though—or maybe it’s the hospital shampoo? I’d better put her down again before I’m tempted to rush off with her.’
She laid her carefully on the sheet and covered her again, unaware of the wistful smile on her face.
Sue wasn’t unaware of it, though. ‘You could always have another one,’ she suggested cautiously. ‘You’re still young enough, surely?’
Sally shook her head. ‘No—I’m free now. It was wonderful, having tiny ones, but I’m enjoying my two as they are. We can do things together now and if we had another we would be back to square one again— anyway, Sam’s had a vasectomy.’
Sue nodded, then her face clouded over. ‘I gather Gabby Lennard died. That was dreadful.’
‘Yes—yes, it was. She had a brain haemorrhage. It could have happened at any time.’
‘She was due four weeks after me—it makes me realise how lucky I am.’
‘You are—we all are. It’s worth remembering.’
They shared a sad smile, and then Sally took her leave.
Poor Gabby. If she had never become pregnant she might never have been troubled by the aneurism. Still, life was full of if-onlys.
One had to ignore them and get on, enjoying every day to the full.
Sally had a sudden vision of herself in ten years’ time, still pushing the vacuum cleaner. Was that all she had to look forward to?
Perhaps she could do some locum work occasionally. She wouldn’t want a regular commitment in another practice, and there was no room for her in Sam’s.
Pity, that. It would have suited her down to the ground.
Assuming he would be agreeable, which was by no means certain.
Not that it mattered. Castles in the air, she thought with a sigh, and went home.
CHAPTER NINE
SAM greeted her with a grin. ‘Good day?’
‘Mercifully short,’ she said drily, and he laughed and hugged her.
Just as her arms were coming round him, he slipped away and ended up on the other side of the room.
‘Tea?’
She eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Need to ask?’
He was wearing those jeans, she mused. The old ones that fitted him like a familiar glove—or a lover.
Her heart skipped a beat. Damn it, he was still so sexy…!
Settling herself at the table, she studied him as he made the tea, loving everything she saw. The way the hair grew at the back of his neck, the shape of his ears, the broad, square set of his shoulders narrowing to slim hips and neat, firm buttocks tautly encased in that wickedly familiar faded denim. And then there were those gorgeous, gorgeous legs. Strong and solid, they weren’t heavy, the thigh-bones slightly rangy. Mentally she stripped the jeans off and pictured him clad only in a fine dusting of golden hair.
The image was too powerful. She shut her eyes and sighed.
‘Tired?’
‘Mmm,’ she agreed, only too ready to keep her secret.
He put the tea down on the table in front of her. ‘Here, drink this, then you can come with me to get the children.’
‘Oh, I meant to tell you, they think they’ve managed to save Liam’s foot.’
‘I know—I rang, too.’
She might have known he would. He crossed his legs, the long lean muscles of his thighs clearly outlined by the jeans. ‘How was Toby?’ she asked, to drag her mind off the subject of his legs.
‘Oh, not too bad. Very worried, and haunted by what he’d seen, but I explained that a little bit of blood can go an awfully long way. He’s dying to see his brother, but at the same time I think he’s also a little afraid, because the last time he saw Liam he was screaming and smothered in blood.’
Sally shuddered. ‘Don’t. I hope you gave our two a lecture on safety in the home.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t think it was necessary. I left them in the car, but they could still hear Liam. When I got back to them after the ambulance went they were white as sheets.’
‘Poor kids. It was unfortunate I was already out.’
‘Mmm. Still, I’m glad it was me and not you who had to deal with it.’
‘I’m just as capable of being professional as you, Sam,’ she told him bluntly, a little stung by what she saw as criticism.
He looked surprised. ‘Well, of course you are. It was just fairly nasty. I’m glad you didn’t have to see it.’
‘Oh.’ Mollified, she sipped her tea.
He eyed her over his mug. ‘Have I told you how lovely you look with bags under your eyes?’ he said gently.
‘Pig.’
He smiled, a slow, lazy smile. ‘You do look tired. How about a nice early night?’
It sounded wonderful. She wondered if she could talk him into giving her a massage—followed, perhaps, by a long, slow session of lovemaking…
She felt her cheeks heat slightly. He was still teasing her, of course—little touches every now and again, like that hug, for instance. Just when it was getting interesting, off he would go.
Well, she’d catch him one day soon, and he’d better be ready for it.
Sam watched her watching him, and sudden doubts clouded his mind. What if he couldn’t please her after all? What if she’d grown so used to tuning him out that he could no longer reach her?
Fear brushed him, making the hairs stand up on his arms. He put his mug down on the table with a little smack and stood up.
‘Shall we fetch the children?’ he said abruptly.
Her eyes widened slightly. ‘A bit early, aren’t we?’
‘Um—I want to get a paper from the shop first.’
‘But we’ve got a paper—it came this morning.’
Hell. ‘An evening paper,’ he flannelled.
‘Oh. Right.’ She put down her tea, half finished, and stood up, stretching luxuriously.
Sam’s gut clenched. The way her firm, pert breasts pushed against that fine jumper was enough to drive him wild. He could feel the fit of his jeans altering, and dragged his eyes away.
Damn. He didn’t want her catching him turned on like a randy adolescent by the sight of her breasts—damn, there he went again, just with the thought.
He picked up his car keys and headed for the door. ‘Coming?’
‘Patience is a virtue,’ she said, calmly following at her own speed.
He didn’t dare look, but he had a feeling that if he did he’d catch a little smirk on her lips. He’d intended to give her another massage that night. Frankly, he didn’t think he had the strength of will to go through a repeat of the other night and walk away. It had nearly killed him to say goodnight and lie there, listening to her frustrated little noises.
There again, maybe he would try. In a masochistic way, it was worth every second…
‘Oh, yes, just there,’ she groaned, and he dug his fingers deeply into the tense muscles of her neck and kneaded them firmly.
‘You’re incredibly tense,’ he told her in surprise.
‘It was a grim weekend.’
‘Yes, it was. How’s that now?’
‘Better,’ she mumbled.
He continued working for a few minutes more, his touch slower, more sensuous. It was time to turn her over, he thought, and his pulse quickened. He sat back on his heels beside her.
‘Better now?’
Silence greeted him. Peering over her shoulder at her face, he saw that she was asleep.
Asleep, for God’s sake!
He gave a rueful chuckle and climbed carefully off the bed, covering her lightly.
Damned aphrodisiac oil! It had sent her to sleep!
Not so him—oh, no! Every last damn nerve-ending had snapped to attention—and not only the nerve-endings!
Frustrated, aching with unrequited lust, he went into the bathroom and ran a hot bath, then lay in it, eye to eye with the cause of all his problems.
‘Later, my friend,’ he promised. ‘Much later. Just hang on in there, your turn will come.’
But not nearly soon enough. He groaned and slid under the water.
Sally learned on Tuesday that Carol Bailey, the girl with the brain abscess following the infected ear, was out of danger and had been transferred from ITU to the neurology ward.
‘She was lucky to survive that,’ Martin said pragmatically. ‘Stupid girl. It’s not as if it’s the first time.’
‘Perhaps that’s why she was so casual—because she had no reason to believe it wouldn’t follow the same course?’
Martin said, ‘Humph,’ and updated her on Liam O’Connor. He was progressing well, and the doctors were increasingly hopeful that the surgery had been successful. He was a patient of Martin’s, not Sam’s, and Sally was happy to hand over his follow-up since the boy was a friend of Ben’s.
She made a follow-up visit to David Jones, who was still finding his shingles painful although now rather less so. Sally reduced his medication to lower the risk of drug dependency, and was pleased to see that the infection had cleared up. In fact the crusts were almost all gone, and she could see that, provided he didn’t suffer from post-herpetic neuralgia, he would be fine.
She told him so, and he was pleased to hear that he had turned the corner.
‘I couldn’t believe how bad it was,’ he said, ‘I’ve never known pain like it.’
Sally commiserated with him. ‘It is a wretched thing. Because it’s fairly common, people tend to underestimate it until they have it.’
‘Not me—not any more,’ he said with the first laugh Sally had seen from him in two weeks.
Pleased with his progress, she told him she wouldn’t need to see him again unless he had any problems.
‘Well, hopefully I won’t,’ he said with a smile. ‘And thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ve been a real nuisance.’
‘No, you haven’t. You’re what we’re here for,’ she assured him.
It was true, she reflected as she drove away. Although she hadn’t been able to halt the disease, with the antiviral drugs and the painkillers she had certainly been able to moderate its course and diminish its symptoms.
And that was what it was all about.
She would miss that aspect of the work. Miss it dreadfully. She chewed her lip. She wondered if Sam had any idea of how much she had enjoyed being back in the traces. She had needed this time to prove to herself that she was still a viable human being.
Somehow being a good mother and a good wife and a good home-maker wasn’t enough.
It should have been, but it wasn’t. She sighed deeply. Was there a flaw in her womanliness that she couldn’t make domesticity sufficiently rewarding?
Her mind knew that wasn’t true, but her heart—her heart was still having grave doubts. She wasn’t happy, though. Flawed or not, she wasn’t happy, and coming back to work had only served to make it worse.
Next week would be fine. There was tons to do in the garden, and she could spend time with her friends, but the week after? And the week after that?
The years that followed, yawning away into the hereafter, didn’t even bear thinking about.
There was a practice meeting that evening to which she was not invited.
Sam was, of course. As one of the partners it was essential he should attend, and Sally was only a locum after all.
She looked after the children, enjoying their bathtime routine, and promised to take Ben to see Liam in hospital after the week was over. ‘Perhaps after school one day next week if you haven’t got too much homework,’ she promised him.
‘We won’t, ‘cause it’s the end of term this Friday.’
‘Really?’ Sally said, stunned that the time had gone so fast. ‘Is it really nearly Easter?’
He nodded. ‘Can I have a Mars egg?’
‘Only if you promise to eat your supper,’ she threatened.
He giggled. ‘It was just that one time we had a king-sized one.’
‘Hmm. Once too often. Your father’s much too soft with you.’
‘It’ll be great having you back,’ Ben confided as she tucked him up. ‘I mean, Dad’s done his best, but he’s not you.’
She smiled fondly at him and ruffled his hair. ‘He hasn’t had as much practice, that’s all.’
‘No, it’s not,’ he said earnestly. He struggled with his loyalty, but then the need to talk overcame his reluctance to split on his father.
‘He can’t cook for toffee, and he gets ever so grotty when something goes wrong. Me ‘n’ Molly just hide, usually, till it’s over.’
‘He does love you, though,’ Sally told him. ‘You do know that, don’t you? It’s just his way.’
Ben nodded thoughtfully. ‘I s’pose. It’ll still be nice to have you back.’
She hugged him hard. ‘It’ll be nice to be back,’ she told him, and it wasn’t altogether a lie. In many ways it would be lovely.
She just hoped that a taste of the other side of life hadn’t ruined her for the one she was stuck with.
Sam sat at the table in the practice office, and looked round him. He seemed to have been away for ever, and yet everything looked exactly the same—even that tatty poster that really ought to come down.
He didn’t take it down, though. It was part of the natural order of things and quite reassuring.
Martin was there, and Steve, and Mavis, the practice manager. They covered the usual practice business, then Martin turned to Mavis and thanked her for her time.
‘You may as well go now, we’ve covered just about everything and I don’t want to keep you any later than we have to.’
Surprised, she wished them goodnight and left. Sam, too, looked surprised.
‘What’s going on?’
Martin tapped his pen on the table, giving it considerably more attention than such an everyday pen deserved.
‘Sally.’
Sam groaned. ‘What about her? Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this idiotic idea of hers. Is it that Palmer woman? Is she suing?
Martin looked stunned. ‘Good heavens, no! Rather the opposite, I gather. They were very taken with her, thought she was wonderful.’
Sam felt relieved, then puzzled. ‘So what is it, then? Has she done something else?’
‘No, no.’ Martin soothed. ‘Actually, we’re all rather taken with her. She’s fitted in wonderfully well, just as if she’d never been away. She’s been a pleasure to work with, a real pleasure. She’s done everything you would have done, the way you would have done it, and she’s been a gem. Cheerful, friendly, co-operative— frankly, Sam, we’ll miss her. Actually, that’s what we wanted to talk about.’
Sam was stunned. Delighted that Sally had fitted in so well, disgustingly proud of her, but stunned, for all that. He was also confused. ‘Talk about what?’ he asked, his brows knitting in a frown.
&nbs
p; Martin cleared his throat and went back to studying his pen. ‘How would you feel,’ he asked eventually, ‘about Sally coming back to work here part time? About half—say, point five or point six? We can justify the extra staffing, and frankly, Sam, we’re pushed to manage without more help. We have been for some time, and we’d be entitled to extra funding.’
‘So what are you saying?’ Sam asked, groping for understanding. ‘You want to offer Sally the job?’
‘That depends how you feel about working with your wife, and how she would feel about it. I know she’ll miss it a great deal, she’s said so. Whether she’d like to work here once you’re back, I don’t know. I guess that depends on how things are between you now.’
Sam was pole-axed. It was the last thing he had expected, although he should have seen it coming. For heaven’s sake, they had talked often enough about getting another part-time partner, preferably female, so it should harly come as a surprise that they wanted Sally.
‘Can I think about it?’ he asked them slowly. ‘Sound her out, perhaps?’
‘Of course,’ Martin agreed, apparently relieved that he hadn’t said a flat “no” outright. ‘Anything you like. We won’t say anything to her in the meantime, just in case you feel you couldn’t work with her. The only thing is, we do really need another pair of hands, and ideally we want a woman. She might feel hurt not to have been asked if that should be the case, so I would have a damn good excuse ready or your running spikes, one or the other.’
‘Of course, she may not want to do it, which would solve that problem, but we’d then have to find someone else who fitted in as well, and that could be very hard,’ Steve added, looking hopelessly disappointed.
It was clear to Sam that they both wanted Sally for the job. It was equally clear that the decision was being left up to him. It was a daunting responsibility.
‘I’ll—um…’ He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘I’ll ask her about how she feels it’s gone, see if I think she’d want to go back to work. If I think she would, I’ll put it to her. I know she’s found full time very demanding, though.’
Taken For Granted Page 13
