He sat down on the sofa and let his head fall back against it.
‘God, but I’m tired.’
He looked tired. He also looked rumpled, and sloppy, and more attractive than any man had any right to be, and she put another log on the fire even though it didn’t need it.
‘When do you think they’ll be able to restore the electricity to the village?’ she asked.
‘Perhaps tomorrow. Then we can send in the fire brigade to begin draining the houses, and my work will be done.’
And I’ll leave.
He hadn’t said the words, he didn’t need to, and of course he would leave. He was only still here in Penhally because of the flood so it had been stupid of her heart to dip at his words but she couldn’t deny it had dipped.
‘Eve?’
He was gazing at her questioningly, and she forced herself to smile.
‘I’ll get the soup,’ she said, but when she went into the kitchen she leant against the table and closed her eyes.
How had he managed to slip so easily back into her life? She’d always sworn she’d never let him get close to her again and yet, within the space of a few short days, it was almost as though he’d never been away, but he was going to leave again as he’d done before, and she was going to be alone again as she had been before.
Which was how it had to be, she told herself. Yes, she felt the old attraction—he had been right about that—but there was too much hurt and pain between them now and, even if he could eventually forgive her for what she had done, he had his life, and she had hers, and their time was past.
Except it wasn’t that easy, she realised, when she went back into the sitting room with their soup and she found him fast asleep on the sofa.
Twenty years. It had been twenty years since they’d last met, and yet she only had to see him like this, his face so tired in the firelight, his hair still damp from his bath, his eyelashes dark against his skin, and she wanted him all over again. Wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him, to have him hold her as he used to.
You can’t go back, Eve, her heart whispered, and yet before she could stop herself she had carefully put the soup down on the mantelpiece, and just as carefully stretched out her hand, meaning only to smooth his hair back from his forehead, but he was a light sleeper and his eyes flew open with a start.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said awkwardly, backing up a step. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It’s just as well you did,’ he said ruefully. ‘I never could fall asleep in a chair without waking up with an infernal crick in my neck.’
‘Snap.’ She laughed as she handed him a mug of soup, but to her surprise he didn’t join in her laughter.
Instead, he stared down at his soup, then up at her.
‘I’m thinking of resigning from Deltaron, Eve. Maybe going into general practice.’
Her mouth fell open, then she shook her head.
‘Tom, you’d be bored witless in under a week,’ she protested. ‘You’re used to immediacy, constant change. I know you said you were worried you were ceasing to care but, believe me, GP work is not for you.’
‘Perhaps not,’ he murmured, his face all dark planes and shadows in the firelight. ‘But…I used to get such a buzz from the danger, Eve, from pitting myself against the elements—fire, flood, earthquake—and yet now…All the time I’m thinking, What if I get it wrong, make a mistake, miscalculate?’
‘You haven’t yet.’
His face darkened still further.
‘I have.’
His voice was so low she barely heard him, and for a second she hesitated then she sat down on the sofa beside him.
‘What happened, Tom?’
She didn’t think he was going to answer, then he put his soup down on the floor beside him and gripped his knees.
‘We were sent to India last year to help out after a very bad earthquake. The village we were assigned to had been pretty well flattened, but one house was still standing, and we could hear people calling for help from inside it. I knew…’ Tom took in an uneven breath. ‘I knew the house was unstable, that it could go at any minute, but I could hear kids crying so I took the gamble it would hold.’
She reached out and laced one of her hands with his, and held it tightly.
‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Charlie Dobbs, the other medic on the team, and I went in,’ he continued with an effort. ‘We’d just reached the kids—I had actually caught hold of one of their hands—and the house collapsed. I was pulled out alive, but Charlie, the people, the kids, they were all killed.’
‘It wasn’t your fault, Tom,’ she said softly. ‘You were trying to give them a chance, and Charlie…He would have known the risks, just as you did.’
‘That’s what the head of Deltaron said,’ he declared, his eyes desolate, ‘but I keep thinking if I’d done it differently, maybe tried to shore up the house, maybe waited…’
‘You did what you thought was right at the time, Tom,’ she said, hating to see the torment in his eyes. ‘That’s all anybody can do.’
‘I went to Charlie’s funeral,’ he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘Deltaron flew his body back to the States, so I went to his funeral and there was nobody there but me and the minister. He had no brothers or sisters, and his parents were both dead, so it was just me and the minister standing at the graveside, and I thought…’ He swallowed. ‘I thought, One day that’s going to be me.’
‘No, it won’t,’ she insisted, but he shook his head.
‘It will, Eve. I’ve given my whole life to the company, just as Charlie did, so one day I’ll be buried with no one there to mourn me, nobody who cares enough about me to come and say goodbye.’
‘I’ll come, Tom,’ she said, her lip trembling. ‘You wouldn’t be alone. I’d come.’
‘But you wouldn’t know, Eve,’ he said, his eyes meeting hers, dark and empty. ‘You’d be here in Penhally, and I could be anywhere in the world.’
‘Tom—’
‘Eve, there’s something I have to tell you,’ he interrupted. ‘Something I want you to know. Do you remember when I said I had two reasons for coming back to Penhally? Well, the other reason…’ He came to a halt with a muttered oath as his mobile phone began to ring, and impatiently he pulled it from his pocket, checked the caller ID, then punched the answer button. ‘Mitch, this had better be important,’ he said.
It clearly was, Eve thought as she watched the frown lines on Tom’s forehead deepen at whatever the pilot was saying, and when the call was over Tom immediately got to his feet.
‘Bad news?’ she said uncertainly.
‘They’ve found a fractured gas main in Gull Close,’ he replied. ‘I have to go.’
‘But you’re exhausted,’ she protested, ‘and you’re not an engineer. Can’t somebody else deal with it?’
‘I’m the boss, Eve, so I have to be there. Don’t wait up for me. I don’t know how long I’m going to be.’
‘Right,’ she said, then added quickly before she could stop herself, ‘Be careful.’
‘I fully intend to,’ he said with a small smile, ‘because we have a conversation to finish, and I intend finishing it.’
And, to her surprise, he bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then strode out of her sitting room, leaving her gazing open-mouthed after him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE WAITING room was crammed to overflowing with press people, and each and every one of them seemed to be armed with a camera, a notebook and an apparently unending supply of stupid questions.
‘I wonder how long it’s going to be before Nick hits someone,’ Dragan murmured as he and Eve stood outside in the surgery corridor watching Tom, Nick, and Chief Constable D’Ancey field questions.
‘I should imagine just until one of those reporters asks him—yet again—whether he’s sure there’s only been two fatalities,’ Eve said dryly.
‘Or maybe until someone asks him for yet another photogra
ph of him and Tom shaking hands,’ Dragan declared, and Eve let out a small choke of laughter.
‘Yup, I reckon that would probably do it.’
‘Ghouls,’ Dragan said with distaste. ‘The whole pack of them are nothing but ghouls. The paparazzi came out in droves when they found out about Melinda and me, but this…’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know how Tom keeps his temper when you consider how many of these press conferences he must have taken part in.’
‘I suppose because he has to,’ Eve murmured, glancing back into the waiting room and seeing Tom wearily rotate his shoulders, his face a carefully arranged expressionless mask. ‘I think Tom has learned to do a lot of things because he has to.’
Including having to accept he wasn’t God, she thought sadly, with all the attendant heartbreak that knowledge could bring.
‘Looks like Nick’s just reached breaking point,’ Dragan said when the senior partner suddenly stood up, his face dark and stormy. ‘Yup, he’s reached it, and I think he’s actually passed it.’
The senior partner had. With an angry nod at Chief Constable D’Ancey, Nick strode out of the waiting room without a backward glance and, when he went into his consulting room, he slammed the door so hard it shuddered.
‘It doesn’t look as though Nick has enjoyed his encounter with the members of the press, does it?’ Kate said, her eyes dancing as she joined them.
‘Perhaps it will teach him to have a little more sympathy for Tom in future,’ Eve replied before she could stop herself, and the midwife laughed.
‘We can but hope,’ she said. ‘Do you think we might be able to get on with afternoon surgery soon?’ she continued as the press began to file out of the waiting room. ‘I know the press is entitled to a story, but we’ve told them all we know, and what we need now is to try to get back to some sort of normality, and that means seeing patients.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Dragan replied, ‘and in that spirit I’ll be in my consulting room if anyone wants me.’
‘And I’ll be in my examination room,’ Kate declared as Dragan disappeared, ‘hoping at least some of my mums-to-be manage to make it down for their prenatal check-ups.’
‘Is the embargo on evening home visits still in place?’ Eve asked, and Kate sighed.
‘Nick is adamant that unless it’s an emergency none of us are to be out after dark, and he’s even more against it since Lauren took a tumble yesterday. I know it makes sense,’ Kate continued. ‘Some of the pavements and roads in Penhally are lethal, but I have quite a few my mums-to-be who can’t come in during the day because they’re at work.’
‘Do you think…?’ Eve began, then stopped. Chloe and Oliver were walking down the corridor towards them and it was obvious from the woman’s stricken countenance that something was badly wrong. ‘Chloe, are you all right?’
‘She insisted I take her down to Fisherman’s Row this morning,’ Oliver replied, ‘and she’s a bit upset by what she saw.’
‘Chloe, your home can be repaired,’ Eve said quickly. ‘Tom said once all the mud and silt have been pumped out—’
‘It’s not the house,’ Chloe interrupted. ‘That’s just bricks and mortar, but Cyclops and Pirate…Eve, there’s no sign of them, anywhere.’
‘Cats have nine lives, babe, you know that,’ her fiancé said, putting his arm around her and giving her a hug. ‘They’re probably just hiding out some place, too scared to come home.’
‘Truly?’ Chloe said, and, when Oliver nodded, she gave a wobbly smile. ‘You think I’m being stupid, don’t you?’
‘Babe, you could never be stupid,’ he said gently. ‘They’ll be fine. I know they will.’
But he wasn’t, Eve knew, as Chloe and Kate hurried away to start their afternoon clinic, and she knew why. The water level in Oliver and Chloe’s home must have reached nine feet at the flood’s height, and neither Cyclops nor Pirate were robust cats.
‘What’s the matter with Chloe?’ Tom asked as he joined them. ‘She looks as though she’s lost a pound and found a penny.’
‘It’s her cats,’ Eve replied and, after she’d explained, Tom frowned.
‘So, Cyclops is a ginger cat and only has one eye, and Pirate is white with a black patch over one eye. OK, I’ll ask my men to keep a special watch out for them.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Oliver muttered, but Tom heard him.
‘Oliver, I know your opinion of me is about as low as it can be,’ he said without heat, ‘but when I make a promise I keep it.’
‘Right,’ Oliver said, his cheeks darkening slightly. ‘Sorry,’ he added, but as Tom turned to go, the junior doctor held out his hand to stay him. ‘Look, I truly am sorry, Tom, and not just for the cats. On the night of the flood, I said some pretty appalling things to you—’
‘Forget it,’ Tom interrupted.
‘Yes, but—’
‘Forget it,’ Tom repeated. ‘We were all a bit fraught that night, and if someone I loved had been missing I would have behaved exactly as you did.’
‘Yes, well…’ Oliver thrust his fingers through his hair awkwardly. ‘It’s good of you to say so, and considerably more than I deserve. If your men do find the cats, and they’re dead, could you tell me first? I don’t want Chloe to see them looking…messed up. She…’ His shoulders lifted helplessly. ‘They mean so much to her, you see.’
‘Not a problem,’ Tom replied but, after Oliver had gone, Eve folded her arms across her chest and shook her head at him.
‘He owes you a much bigger apology than that,’ she said, and saw one corner of Tom’s mouth lift.
‘Eve, people say things in the heat of the moment, and I have broad enough shoulders and a thick enough skin to cope with it. Oliver was worried sick about Chloe that night, and if I’d been in his shoes I would probably have said a hell of a lot more.’
‘Even so,’ she protested, ‘I still feel—’
‘Plus, I hardly think I’m in a position to criticise somebody else’s thoughtless words, do you?’ he interrupted.
His eyes were fixed on her, and she felt a faint wash of colour creep across her cheeks.
‘Tom…’
‘I know.’ He nodded. ‘Not here, not now, but we’re going to have to talk about it some time, Eve.’
She knew they would, but she didn’t want to talk about it because talking changed nothing, altered nothing. Talking simply meant she had to relive it again, and she’d relived it so often in her mind—regretted it so often.
‘Do you know what’s going to happen to Audrey’s dog, Foxy?’ she said, deliberately changing the subject, and knew from the way Tom shook his head that he wasn’t deceived for a second.
‘The RSPCA is looking after him at the moment,’ he replied, ‘but to be honest they’re a bit worried about him. He’s not eaten anything since they picked him up, and there’s no doubt he’s going to be difficult to rehome because people generally want puppies, not older dogs. I’d take him myself, but the RSPCA say he’s wary of men, plus a dog really shouldn’t have a globe-trotting owner. Maybe if I had a wife, a family…’
His words hung in the air between them, and Eve plucked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
‘I hope you find someone one day, Tom,’ she murmured. ‘You deserve to be happy.’
‘But you don’t think you do.’
The unexpectedness of his comment completely threw her.
‘Of—of course I deserve to be happy,’ she stammered, ‘and I am happy. I have my work, and Tassie, and…’ Desperately she tried to think of something else that made her happy but to her dismay her mind seemed suddenly blank. ‘I’m happy, Tom.’
‘Eve, you need more in your life than your work, and looking after someone else’s child once a week,’ he said gently, ‘but until you let go of the past, move on, you’re not going to believe that. You’re going to continue to keep people at arm’s length because you don’t think you’re entitled to happiness.’
‘I—You—you’re talking nonsense,’ she said
vehemently. ‘You’re making it sound as though—’
She didn’t get an opportunity to finish what she’d been about to say. Dragan had appeared, looking white-faced and tense.
‘I’ve just had a phone call from Melinda,’ he said unevenly. ‘Her waters have broken. She’s having the baby, Eve, and it’s two weeks early.’
‘Which is no time at all,’ she said soothingly. ‘In fact, she probably got her dates wrong—it’s not uncommon.’
‘Right,’ he said, though Eve doubted whether he’d actually heard her. ‘I need to go to her, but I have surgery this afternoon—My patients—’
‘I’ll take your place,’ Tom interrupted. ‘I’m a fully qualified doctor, remember, and I’m sure Nick wouldn’t object.’
To Eve’s amazement the senior partner didn’t. He simply gave Tom a long, appraising stare, then nodded.
‘Just so long as you realise what you’re letting yourself in for,’ he said. ‘General practice is not for everyone.’
‘Then it’s OK if I go?’ Dragan said, clearly anxious to leave, and Nick gave him a gentle push with his finger.
‘Of course you can go, you idiot. Give Melinda my best, and try not to faint. It reflects badly on the practice.’
Quickly, Dragan strode to the door, then came back and gripped Tom’s hands.
‘Bog te blagoslovio!’ the Croatian doctor exclaimed. ‘Hvala, Tom. I just want to say—hvala.’
‘Do you have any idea what he said?’ Tom asked, bemused, when Dragan had rushed away.
‘I imagine he was thanking you,’ Eve declared, ‘but I’m afraid I can’t give you an exact translation as I don’t speak Croatian.’
Tom grinned. ‘In which case he could have been telling me in no uncertain terms to…um…remove myself.’
‘Maybe somebody should,’ she muttered, and walked off to her examination room, but Tom came after her.
‘Eve, what I said earlier—about you needing to move on—I’m sorry if you feel I spoke out of turn.’
Caroline Anderson, Josie Metcalfe, Maggie Kingsley, Margaret McDonagh Page 44
