Andrea stared at him, the look on her face still one of absolute incredulity.
‘It’s known as a Ponzi scheme,’ David pushed on, forcing the point painfully home, and hating himself for it. ‘It’s an operation that pays returns to its investors from their own money or money paid by subsequent investors. The company running the scheme entices new investors by offering higher returns than other investments.’
David stopped, feeling like a total shit. If she was hurt before, this time she’d be devastated. What choice did he have, though? He really needed to open her eyes to the fact that Jonathan Eden was bad news. Back to the wall, he was dangerous; David truly believed that. And seeing that bruise on Andrea’s face scared him.
‘And you have evidence of all this, do you?’ Andrea asked, her cheeks ablaze and her wide green eyes wild with fury.
David’s heart plummeted. She didn’t believe him. Why would she? Now what did he do? ‘He’s under investigation, but it doesn’t look good,’ was all he could offer, because, for now, that’s all he had.
‘You are mad,’ Andrea said, her expression now one of utter astonishment. ‘And very sad, David Adams,’ she added, her meaning implicit. ‘What is it with you? Are you hell-bent on ruining women’s lives? If you can’t fuck them you just have to fuck them up, is that it, David?’
That hit home. David felt as if he’d been physically winded. ‘He’s desperate, Andrea,’ he said quietly. ‘The last thing I want is to ruin your life. I just want you to be careful, that’s—’
‘You’re doing a damn good job of it, David!’
Well, if she didn’t hate him before, she hated him now. David swallowed a tight lump in his throat as he watched Andrea storm from the room. That was okay. He didn’t need her to like him. He needed her to be alerted to the fact that Eden was a manipulative, desperate man, who had not got her interests at heart.
Eden’s interests lay in getting his hands on the payout from the household insurance. David would bet his life on it. With which, he suspected Eden had been intending to replace the investment monies he’d stolen from Eva – hopefully before Eva found out they weren’t there. Which begged the question, if the house hadn’t burnt to the ground, where had Eden been intending to get those funds from? It struck David that it was far too convenient that his house just happened to catch fire, almost killing his family in the process. Add to that Eden’s disappearing act, which had nothing to do with him being hospitalised, his digging around the burned out house when he finally did show up – hoping to locate the forged document in Dee’s belongings, David guessed; his general evasiveness …
Now it was beginning to add up.
And there was no convenience about it. David raked his hand angrily through his hair. That fire was fucking well planned and Andrea needed to know, at least enough to want to get well away from the bastard. If she despised him because he’d told her what she didn’t want to hear, then he’d just have to learn to live with it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
David waited for a lull in the surgery then tapped on Doctor Paton’s door and poked his head around it. ‘Have you got a sec?’ he asked.
‘Hi, David.’ She smiled and beckoned him in. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Hectic. Five people with flu symptoms already this evening.’
‘Ah, that’ll be the flu symptoms they’ve been told to stay at home with. If you thought working here was going to be a holiday, David, you’ve been sadly misinformed.’
David smiled. ‘I didn’t, though I didn’t think it would be quite so busy, I must admit.’
‘Manic Monday.’ Doctor Paton nodded knowledgeably. ‘People tend to get sicker on Mondays than they do on Fridays.’
‘Tell me about it.’ David parked himself tiredly in her visitor’s chair.
‘You might do better for a good night’s sleep,’ she suggested, peering at him over her glasses.
David laughed ruefully. ‘And that.’ Between rattling pipes, nightmares, worrying about Jake, Andrea, Sally and imminent babies, he doubted he’d get another decent night’s sleep ever again.
‘So what can I do for you?’ Doctor Paton twirled away from her monitor to give him her full attention.
‘Sally Anderson,’ David got straight to the point, ‘I believe she’s recently swapped to your list.’
‘Oh, dear, she’s not enamoured of your considerable charms, then?’
‘Er, no, obviously not. I just wondered—’
‘I hope you’re not about to ask me to break patient confidentiality, Doctor Adams?’
‘No.’ David did his best to look the picture of innocence. ‘Well, bend it a little maybe,’ he admitted, with his best winning smile.
Doctor Paton arched an eyebrow.
‘I saw her socially, at a dinner party,’ he lied, but more out of concern for Sally than himself. As far as he knew she hadn’t done anything about that scan yet and, given her history, David thought she should, sooner rather than later. ‘She had to leave early, stomach pains, and I thought as she’s pregnant, I’d mention—’
‘Pregnant?’ Doctor Paton now looked surprised at him over her glasses. ‘Really?’ She furrowed her brow. ‘Well, obviously I can’t divulge information, but … Are you all right, David? You’ve gone quite pale.’
David was too stunned to speak for a second. She’d seen Doctor Paton. Had the bloody pregnancy confirmed by her, she’d said. And Doctor Paton didn’t know she was pregnant?
‘David?’
‘What? Oh, yes.’ He forced another smile and shakily got to his feet. ‘I, er … Jake. I just remembered I was supposed to pick him up.’
‘Uh, oh.’ Doctor Paton chuckled, turning back her monitor. ‘Someone’s not going to be very happy.’
No, David thought heading swiftly for the door, someone is most definitely not.
With Ryan out with Jake and her gran having a snooze, Sophie chose her moment to tackle her mum about what she’d overheard David and her arguing about. She didn’t know what to make of him with everything that had gone on, but after also seeing the argument between Jonathan and her mum, and her gran acting nuttier than a fruitcake, Sophie wanted answers. ‘Mum?’
‘Hmm?’ Andrea basted the roast chicken they were having as a celebratory dinner – now they’d actually got an oven to cook one in – and fed it back into the oven.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Sophie continued peeling her potato, determined to do the whole thing and get one long spiral.
‘Ask away,’ Andrea said, checking Sophie’s nut roast, and then turning to the fridge, which was well stocked with loads of Eva’s vegetables.
‘About David.’
‘Oh.’
Sophie could feel the vibes across the room. Her mum might make out she wasn’t interested in him, but it didn’t take a genius to work that out. ‘He’s kind of all right, isn’t he?’
‘He’s been absolutely wonderful, Sophie.’ Andrea clanged the fridge door closed. ‘But I’m not sure I know him well enough to say whether he’s all right, or not.’
Yeah, right. ‘I mean he’s obviously a total idiot, getting someone pregnant when he’s a doctor – like, hello, condoms.’
‘Sophie!’
‘What? It’s not like I haven’t heard of them, you’ll be relieved to know.’
‘What do you mean, relieved?’ Andrea asked, apprehensively.
Sophie glanced behind her, noted her mum wide-eyed with alarm and rolled her own eyes ceilingwards. ‘I mean, I won’t make the same mistake Sally made, if I ever go near a boy that is, which I won’t ’cos they’re totally gross.’
‘Oh, good,’ Andrea said shakily.
Sophie rolled her eyes again and then – pants – broke her spiral. ‘He is kind of okay, though, isn’t he?’ She plucked up another potato and started afresh.
‘I suppose so, yes.’ Andrea peered over her shoulder into the bowl. ‘You’re supposed to peel the whole potato, Sophie, not half of it.’
‘I am. I’
m just doing it my way instead of the boring way. So, what were you two arguing about?’ Sophie went back to her spiralling endeavours. ‘You and David, I mean.’
‘We weren’t arguing, Sophie, we were talking.’
‘Okay, talking about then?’ Sophie shrugged. ‘It’s just, I heard some of it, and what with Jonathan acting really weird and Gran driving me mental, hiding things in wardrobes and banging on about him doing away with her, I just wondered …’ Sophie sighed as the doorbell rang and her latest spiral plopped into the sink ‘… if David might be right? About Jonathan’s business dealings, I mean.’
No answer from her mum, Sophie turned around. ‘Typical,’ she muttered, realising she was talking to herself. ‘Just ignore me, why don’t you?’
Andrea sighed as she headed for the door. It seemed David really did charm everyone he came into contact with, including her own daughter, who, in Andrea’s estimation had been right in her previous opinion of him. He really was too nice to be true. Far too nice. If ever anyone was a manipulator and a con artist, it was David-oh-so-charismatic-Adams. The man was some kind of delusional sociopath, pretending to be caring and loving, when he was blatantly promiscuous and probably incapable of love; determined to control women in some twisted way. Why else would he go to the trouble of decorating three floors of an apartment, if not to keep tabs on her, for reasons she simply couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t as if he had time on his hands, and it certainly wasn’t as if he couldn’t attract the attention of many a not-so-dim young thing, women far sexier and prettier than she.
He already had. Sally for one, who might not be much younger, but was certainly prettier, and who Andrea absolutely didn’t believe he’d only ever met once. It was just too preposterous that he, a doctor, would make the kind of ‘mistake’ he had. The man was a liar. The worst part was, she’d been fool enough to fall for his lies, for him – at least until he’d spouted that last load of outrageous twaddle. She didn’t believe it. Not any of it.
Well, God help Sally, that’s all Andrea could think. They’d both obviously been taken in, Sally and she, along with probably a multitude of other unsuspecting women, but at least she could walk away reasonably unscathed. Poor Sally was having the man’s baby.
They were here though. And the apartment, Andrea had to admit, was lovely. So, for her family’s sake, this is where they would stay, until they chose to do otherwise. There was no doubt that Jonathan had some explaining to do. Andrea reached for the door. And explain he would, once …
‘Jonathan?’
‘I’m hoping you won’t slam that in my face.’ Jonathan nodded at the door. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you did. There’s no point saying I’m sorry, I know, but can we at least talk, Andrea?’ He shrugged sadly. ‘For Chloe’s sake?’
‘We need to talk,’ David addressed Sally shortly, his temper on a short fuse after knocking repeatedly. Having glimpsed her through the window, he’d known damn well she was in.
Sally peered at him through the half open door. ‘David, I can’t. I’m not feeling very … sociable. Can you …?’ Sally stopped, no doubt noting David wasn’t actually feeling very bloody sociable either. Far from it. Never mind him, did she realise what kind of trauma she might have put Jake through? Yes, David would have had to deal with it, if it were true, but … did this woman have any bloody idea?
‘Can you call back later, David? Or ring me—’
‘Now, Sally,’ David insisted, pressing the flat of his hand against the door. There was no way he was going anywhere until he had some answers. No way.
Sally’s eyes flicked down and back to his face. Then, obviously noting his thunderous expression, she nodded and pulled the door open.
‘Would you like to tell me what’s going on?’ David asked as calmly as he could, once inside the hall.
Taking her time, Sally closed the door and turned to look at him quizzically. ‘Sorry?’ she said as if she didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about.
‘Not half as sorry as I am,’ David grated.
Sally shook her head. ‘David, I don’t …’
‘What the bloody hell have you been playing at, Sally?’ David demanded, now very close to losing it.
Clearly shaken, Sally stepped back. One hand on her stomach, one hand on the wall, she looked at him convincingly wide-eyed and shocked.
Oh, very good. David shook his head. Did she really intend to keep up this insane charade? Had he got idiot stamped on his head, or what? Obviously, he must have. David was torn between applauding her performance and telling her exactly what he thought of her.
‘I think you owe me an explanation, Sally, don’t you?’ he said instead, attempting to keep his tone somewhere near civil.
‘David, I don’t u … Ugh.’ Sally gripped her stomach more tightly.
Oh, for … David sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Sally,’ he started, in no mood for more games, ‘just drop the bloody theatricals and tell me what the fu—’ David stopped, looking at her more closely as Sally panted out a breath and leaned against the wall for support.
She looked pale. Very pale. He noted the bead of sweat above her upper lip, the positioning of her hand. Her eyes squeezed closed now, two hands against her stomach, the woman was most definitely in pain.
‘Sally …?’ David caught her as her legs gave way. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the lounge and placed her gently on the sofa. ‘Where’s the pain, Sally? Can you show me?’
‘Mmmmf,’ was all Sally could muffle, placing her hand to the right of her abdomen.
‘Let me take a look.’ David reached to ease her hand away but Sally recoiled. ‘Sally, I need to examine you,’ he said, careful to keep his tone professional now – and considerably softer than it had been.
‘No!’ Sally tried to scramble away, now looking terrified. ‘I don’t want you … Oooh, God!’
‘Sally, just lie still.’ Even doubling up, the woman wouldn’t let him near her, though it was obvious she really was in severe discomfort. Exasperated, and growing very concerned, David tried again. ‘Sally, I won’t hurt you. I just need to—’
‘No,’ Sally whimpered. ‘I—’
‘Sally …’ David raked his hand though his hair as she attempted to lever herself from the sofa, and failed. ‘For Pete’s sake, Sally, I know you’re not pregnant!’
Or was she? David tried to still a sudden panic as he realised there was a possibility she might be. That she might be miscarrying. Or worse, that it could even be an ectopic pregnancy, in which case …
‘Sally, please,’ he tried. ‘I’m not angry. I’m concerned, that’s all. Please let me examine you. It could be serious.’
Catching a sob in her throat, Sally looked at him tearfully and, finally relented.
David sighed with relief and pressed a hand softly on her stomach. The uterus definitely wasn’t raised above the pelvic bones he established quickly, ergo no physical sign of pregnancy. ‘Show me where it hurts, Sally. Can you do that?’ David cursed his initial abruptness and made sure to be as gentle as he could.
Sally’s hand strayed again to the right side of her abdomen.
‘Here?’ David checked for rebound tenderness, pressing lightly over the area.
‘Yes!’ she winced, obviously experiencing more tenderness as he released the pressure. The muscles were tensing in response to touch, too. ‘Is it constant?’ he asked, searching her face, feeling her forehead. Her temperature was probably through the roof.
She nodded. ‘Yes. It wasn’t, but it is now.’
‘Right.’ Cautiously, not wanting to upset her any more than he already had, David quickly tested for pain on flexion of the hip, pain on the right side.
‘Any sickness?’
Sally nodded again, her breathing definitely indicating acute pain.
‘Loss of appetite?’
Getting an affirmative on the latter, too, David didn’t waste any more time. ‘I think it could be appendicitis. We have to get
you to the hospital.’ Which, calculating the time it would take an ambulance to arrive, would probably be quicker by car, he decided.
Once again, Sally seemed reluctant to let him help her. No surprise there, David supposed, given how he’d barged in … and why.
‘Sally, it might burst, in which case it will release bacteria and cause severe infection. Come on, please. You can trust me, I’m a doctor.’ David tried a smile.
Sally looked at him guardedly then, but acquiesced, allowing him to ease her from the sofa into his arms.
‘We’ll straighten the cushions later.’ David gave her another reassuring smile and headed as fast as he could to the hall.
Sally managed a weak smile back. ‘I bet you hate me, don’t you?’ she said as he manoeuvred her out through the front door.
‘I don’t hate you, Sally,’ David assured her, carrying her across the road, to the surprise of one or two onlookers.
Sally grimaced and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘But you don’t love me?’
David hesitated. ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Sally. I like you but, no, I’m not in love with you.’
‘Did you love your wife?’ she asked weakly.
‘Very much,’ David said adamantly.
‘Do you love Andrea?’
David debated, then, ‘Yes, I believe I do,’ he admitted.
‘Tell her I love her, too. Will you do that?’
‘I will.’ David nodded. ‘But you can tell her yourself.’ At least she could if he could get her into the bloody car and to the hospital asap. Dammit, where were his …
‘Sweeping women off their feet, I see. Again,’ Ryan observed, arriving most definitely like the cavalry, just in time.
‘Keys,’ David instructed shortly. ‘Left jacket pocket.’
‘What’s up, Dad?’ Jake asked, standing off with Homer and Dougal as Ryan, obviously sensing the emergency, dutifully obliged and unlocked the car.
‘Appendicitis, I think,’ David called, lowering Sally gently inside. ‘Ryan could you …?’ He nodded towards Jake and ran around to the driver’s side.
Learning to Love Page 30
