He glanced at her, his eyes neutral. ‘Sorry—may I?’
She pulled back, leaving it to him, and he issued some instructions and returned to the arm, giving her back her space.
It took nearly an hour, but finally the splinters were out, the wounds were stitched or steri-stripped or glued, and Matt had reattached the blood supply to the flap on her arm, dealt with several other wounds including the scalp flap, and was ready to take her to Theatre to start the delicate reconstruction of her arm muscles.
And finally, after all that time, he looked up and met her eyes.
‘Good job on her face,’ he murmured. ‘Well done.’
She felt a strange little burst of pride, and smiled. ‘Thank you. Good luck with the arm. I have no idea how you’ll deal with such a huge flap.’
‘Want to find out?’
She stared at him. ‘What—in Theatre?’
‘Why not? You must be about to go off, I know you were on an early, and you’re interested, you said you aren’t sure if surgery is for you—scrub in and find out. You can assist.’
‘But I—’
‘But nothing. Come on, I don’t want to hang about. Are you in or out?’
‘In,’ she said, unconvinced about the wisdom of it but fascinated about the surgery, and in the end she was glad she’d gone because it had been a joy to watch him work.
Every tiny nerve, every muscle bundle was carefully lined up and held with the finest sutures, and by the time he’d finished the patient’s arm looked almost normal.
‘That’s amazing,’ she said, and he smiled wryly.
‘Just doing my job, Livvy, and it was a clean cut. She’ll always have a scar, that can’t be avoided, but hopefully she’ll have full function of all the muscles and nerves, given time. And it’s her right arm, so it matters even more. At least we seem to have got all the glass out of her, and once she’s come round and she’s stable she’ll have a CT scan to check for random fragments that we’ve missed, because she’s peppered with it and we’re bound to have missed something.’ He stripped off his gloves and gown, peeled off his mask and hat and lobbed them in the bin. ‘So, what are you doing now?’
She glanced up at the theatre clock. ‘I was going to go and see if that boutique had any dresses for Amber, but it might be closed.’
‘Are you still happy to do that?’
She stared at him in astonishment. ‘Of course I am! I promised her, Matt. I can’t go back on that, and I wouldn’t want to.’
‘So it’s just me, then, that you’ve got a problem with.’
His eyes were unguarded now, and she could see the hurt in them. Hurt she’d caused.
‘It’s not you, Matt. It’s just—I’m always a bit antsy coming up to my mammogram. It brings it all back, makes me nervous.’
‘So why not just say that? Why give me all the other excuses?’
‘Because I don’t want you to be hurt.’
His soft huff of laughter drifted over her silently, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, because she was hurting him anyway and she could see it in his eyes.
‘Go on, go and see if the boutique’s still open, and let me know how you get on. I need to go into Recovery and deal with my patient.’
‘OK. And thanks again for letting me assist. It was amazing.’
‘You’re welcome. Call me later.’
‘I will.’
* * *
It was still open, and the proprietor was wonderful.
‘I’m looking for a new favourite dress for a friend’s little daughter,’ she explained, ‘and she hates pink and she doesn’t want anything with a unicorn on it.’
The woman laughed and led her through a doorway to the back of the shop.
‘There you are. We have some very pretty summer party dresses for little girls, and there are lots that aren’t pink and don’t have unicorns,’ she said, and showed Livvy a whole rail to choose from.
Some were incredibly fancy and fragile, others much more robust and equally pretty. And as the woman had said, there were lots that weren’t pink and she didn’t see a single unicorn.
‘Oh, they’re gorgeous!’ she said. ‘I’ll need to bring her.’
‘Of course you will. How big is she?’
‘Oh.’ She waved her hand up and down, trying to guess. ‘So high? I’m not sure. She’s five in September, and she’s quite slender and leggy. And she needs growing room.’
‘OK. I’m sure we’ll find something. Do you have a budget?’
She shook her head. ‘No. My only criterion is something she can wear more often than the one covered in fine net that she’s outgrown and hasn’t worn nearly enough to make her happy!’
‘That’s easy. Bring her when you can.’
‘Thursday afternoon? I finish work early then.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll look forward to meeting her. Will her mother be coming?’
Livvy swallowed. ‘No, that’s why I’m doing this. She doesn’t have a mother. She died.’
‘Oh, how sad,’ the woman said softly. ‘We’ll have to find her something really special.’
* * *
By the time she’d picked Amber up from Matt’s house on Thursday afternoon the little girl was positively fizzing with excitement, and the moment she saw the rows of dresses hanging up her eyes were like saucers.
‘They’re all so pretty!’
‘I’ve pulled a few out for you,’ the proprietor said, handing Livvy half a dozen hangers, and they went into the dressing room and Amber tried them all on.
Some were too tight, some too loose, one too short, but then there was one that fitted perfectly but still allowed room for growth, without a trace of pink or a single unicorn, and yet delicately pretty and made of pure, soft cotton with a cotton lining.
It even had a matching cotton cardigan in the exact same soft slate blue as Amber’s eyes, with pearly buttons and a picot edging, and watching Amber’s delighted reaction when she saw herself in the mirror, Livvy felt her eyes well with tears.
‘I think we’re probably going to take this one,’ she said to the lady, and she smiled.
‘I had a feeling you might say that. It’s a good choice. It’s machine washable, too, and it’s pre-shrunk.’ She lowered her voice. ‘There is another one, which is in the sale, and if she’s about to start school she’s likely to get lots of party invitations. It’s not as dressy, probably not a “favourite” dress, but I think it might suit her.’
It did, and Amber loved it, too, but her little face was troubled.
‘If I have this one, does it mean I can’t have the other one?’
Livvy shook her head. ‘No, sweetheart. It means you can have a favourite dress for parties and more special occasions, and another favourite dress for when it’s not quite so important.’
‘I can have both?’ she squealed, bubbling over with excitement, and Livvy scooped her up and hugged her. Her little arms snaked around her neck, clinging tight, and then she squirmed to be put down and rushed back over to the mirror for another look.
Livvy turned to the saleswoman, surprised to see tears in her eyes, and she felt the prickling echo of them in her own.
‘Well, I think that’s a success,’ the woman said briskly, and Livvy smiled at her.
‘I think so, too. Thank you so, so much.’
‘It’s the least I could do,’ she said, and busied herself with wrapping the dresses in tissue.
‘They’re beautiful. Thank you so much, Livvy. What do I owe you?’
‘Nothing! They’re a present.’
‘I can’t let you do that—’
‘Yes, you can. Please. It was a pleasure, just to see the look on her face.’
He let out a little huff of laughter and gave up, pulling her into his arms and hugging her. ‘You’re a star, do yo
u know that?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said lightly, but her eyes were glittering and he could tell just from looking at her that she’d found the whole thing very moving.
Such a simple thing, and yet not, because she’d probably never have a daughter of her own, not even a stepdaughter if she stuck to her guns. And that would be a tragedy. He swallowed the lump in his throat and hugged her again.
‘I’ve missed you. We need to make another date.’
‘Not yet. I’m working all weekend, and I’ve got to go to the Audley on Monday for my mammogram.’
‘I thought you were working in London before?’
‘I was, but after I was diagnosed I switched to the Audley so I could be at home for my treatment. It seemed sensible. But maybe later in the week?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll ask my mother if she can have the children. How about Friday? I’m not working on Saturday so I can stay over.’
‘Friday’s fine. I’m not working on Saturday, either. Talk to your mother and let me know.’
* * *
The weekend was hellish, but she went over to her parents’ on Sunday evening after her shift ended and spent the night with them, then went into the hospital for her mammogram and met up with her mother again for lunch before driving home.
It would be two weeks before she got the result, so she put it out of her mind and tackled her overdue chores. She did a load of laundry and hung it out to dry in the conservatory, blitzed the house, watered the garden and then sat down on the bench with a cold drink just as Matt phoned.
‘Hi, how are you?’
‘Fine. I’ve been doing housework, which is deadly dull. How about you?’
He chuckled, which made her smile. ‘I’m fine. Amber insisted on wearing her second favourite dress to go round to my mother’s for lunch yesterday, and she was distraught because Charlie spilt his drink over it, but d’you know what? It’s come out of the washing machine looking as good as new, so I just wanted to thank you again, because it was a brilliant choice and if it had been ruined, life wouldn’t have been worth living.’
She laughed at that, wondering how stressed he’d been, visualising the tears and hysteria from Amber.
‘Does she know it’s OK?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s back in her wardrobe and she’s happy again. So how did the mammogram go?’
‘Oh, hellish as ever. I call it the crusher, but it’s fine, it’s saved my life once, I have no issues with it. My parents send their love, by the way. I spent the night with them and had lunch with Mum today.’
‘How are they?’
‘Fine.’ Apart from worrying about her and quizzing her about her relationship with him, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
‘Did they give you a hard time about me?’
She laughed. Apparently she didn’t need to tell him. ‘Only a little. I told them about taking Amber shopping, and they seemed to think that was a bit serious. I told them it wasn’t but they looked as if they didn’t believe me.’
He didn’t answer that, just grunted, told her his mother could babysit on Friday and then changed the subject to a patient he’d had in a while ago who’d come back for further surgery. ‘I’ve got to take him to Theatre again tomorrow. I wondered if you’d like to scrub in. It could be quite interesting.’
‘I’d love to, but I’ll have to see how busy it is. I don’t suppose James will take kindly to me messing off in the middle of a shift.’
* * *
Ludicrously busy was the answer.
Far too busy to leave the department, too busy even for a proper break, just a snatched sandwich or a gulp of water between patients, and it set the tone for the rest of the week.
Still, she’d see him on Friday, and they spoke in the evening a couple of times.
And then on Friday, she got back to the house to find a recall letter from the breast clinic, and her world went into meltdown.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE WASN’T ANSWERING her phone.
There had to be a perfectly good reason, like she was watering the garden or she’d nipped out to the corner shop or she was in the shower or drying her hair—any one of a dozen perfectly plausible reasons, but he had a cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he knew—he just knew—there was something wrong.
He’d been trying to get hold of her for half an hour. Nobody dried their hair for that long. And the last time his calls hadn’t been picked up—
Stop it! She’s not dead.
But the fear in his gut was growing, and there was nothing he could do about it because his mother wasn’t feeling well so she couldn’t babysit, so he had no way of getting to Livvy to see if she was all right.
Unless...
He spotted Ed on the clifftop, heading home with the dog, and he ran out and hailed him.
‘Can you do me a massive favour? Can you babysit the kids for ten minutes? They’re in bed asleep but Mum can’t make it, she’s not well, and I can’t get hold of Livvy and I’m supposed to have picked her up twenty minutes ago, and I’m a bit worried.’
‘Yes, of course I can. Go. Ring me if there’s a problem.’
He nodded, dived back in, picked up his keys and drove straight to her house. Her car wasn’t outside the front and her bedroom window was closed, as if she hadn’t got home.
Odd. If she’d been held up at work she would have called him, or got someone else to.
He peered through the letter box and saw nothing, so he tried her phone again, and he could hear it ringing.
She must have left it behind—except she never left her phone behind. And the door from the kitchen to the conservatory was open.
The garden. She was in the garden.
His shoulders dropping with relief, he drove round to the back of the house, hitched up on the kerb and got out.
‘Livvy?’
Silence, apart from a familiar noise, the slight, rhythmic creak of the swing. And she hadn’t answered him, even though she must have heard, but at least she was alive. He grabbed the top of the gate, hauled himself up and dropped to the ground on the other side.
Her car was there, neatly parked in the car port, and he ducked under the wisteria into the garden and found her huddled on the bench, her eyes vacant and red-rimmed, and his heart turned over.
‘Hey, what’s happened?’ he asked softly, and she looked up and met his eyes and he felt sick.
He sat down and gathered her up against his chest, her body resisting, shudders running through it, and lying on the floor at her feet was a crumpled letter from the Audley breast clinic.
They found something.
He felt the air leave his lungs in a rush, and he cradled her head against his shoulder and rocked her gently.
‘Did you get a recall?’
She nodded. ‘They found something,’ she said in a tiny voice. ‘I have to go back.’
‘When?’
‘Monday.’
Damn. Why was it the weekend? Why was it always the weekend?
‘Matt, why are you here?’
He pressed a kiss to her hair, his heart welling over. ‘Because I was supposed to be taking you out for dinner,’ he said gently, ‘but my mother’s not well and I’ve been trying to ring you and you didn’t pick up.’
‘Oh. Sorry. I forgot,’ she said, her voice hollow.
She was in shock, her body cold and stiff, her lips bloodless.
‘That’s OK. Come on, let’s get you some things, you’re coming back to my house for the weekend.’
‘No. Just leave me—’
‘No. I’m not leaving you, Livvy, never again. You’re coming back with me. What do you need? Underwear, toothbrush, deodorant, clothes—’
‘Tamoxifen,’ she said, and then a sob tore its way out of her body and he squeezed his eyes shut and held her.
<
br /> She didn’t give in, though, just crushed it all down as he guessed she always did and lifted her head and sniffed.
‘Matt, I’m OK, really. I don’t want—I can’t—’
‘Yes, you can. Come on, get up and we’ll go and get you some things together and then we’ll go back to mine so we can talk.’
‘I don’t want to talk. There’s nothing to say.’
‘There’s a lot to say, a lot I should already have said, but that’s fine, we’ve got time. Come on.’
He got up and tugged her gently to her feet, gathered her things together in the bedroom and bathroom, picked up her bag, locked up the house and took her home.
Ed was sitting in the porch by the open door, the dog lying at his feet, and he took one look at Matt’s face when he got out of the car and stood up.
‘Anything I can do?’ he asked quietly, but there wasn’t so he shook his head.
‘No. Thanks for staying. I can’t talk now.’
Ed nodded, told him to call if he needed anything and left him to it.
* * *
‘Come on, Livvy. Come inside.’
He was going to nag her until she went, so she got out of the car, her body working on autopilot, and he shepherded her into the house and took her up to his bedroom. She crawled onto the bed without a word, and he lay down and pulled her into his arms.
She resisted for a moment, then burrowed into him, clinging to him like a lifeline, too weak to fight it any longer because she needed him so much and it was all going to go horribly wrong—
‘Hey, it’ll be all right,’ he murmured.
‘No, it won’t. It’s come back, I know it has. Why am I here? You don’t need this, Matt. You don’t need me—’
‘Yes, I do. I love you, Livvy, and I know you love me, too.’
Her eyes welled with tears because this was what she’d been dreading, the moment when it all imploded. ‘No! No, don’t say that. You can’t say that. You can’t love me, I won’t let you.’
A Single Dad to Heal Her Heart Page 15
