The Wife He Never Forgot

by Anne Fraser

  ‘Perfectly serious.’

  She plonked the basin on the locker. ‘Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, as they say in the movies.’ She was definitely beginning to enjoy herself.

  ‘What’s the easy way?’

  ‘That’s where you lie still and let me do what I need to.’

  A slow smile crossed his face. ‘I think I’ve heard you say that before.’

  She bit back a smile. She wasn’t about to admit that the night he was talking about was imprinted in her memory.

  ‘And what’s the hard way?’

  ‘The hard way is when you resist—or try to help me.’

  ‘Let’s go for the easy way, then.’

  She was beginning to have her doubts. It had seemed a good way of getting back at Nick, but she hadn’t expected him to capitulate so quickly.

  She unbuttoned his pyjama top. He’d never worn them, preferring to sleep naked.

  Mustn’t think of him naked.

  The lower part of his torso was heavily bandaged. Tiggy’s mouth dried. She dipped the facecloth in the water and wrung it out. She washed his face, feeling the rasp of his beard through the cloth.

  ‘You could do with a shave,’ she said mildly.

  ‘Not sure I could trust you that far.’ He grinned. He’d always used an open razor to shave.

  ‘You’ll do until tomorrow.’

  She raised each arm in turn and soaped and rinsed. All the while he lay there, watching her with sleepy, amused brown eyes.

  It turned into a game, both waiting to see just how far she’d go. She soaped his calves in turn, lifting them gently so as not to cause him any pain, but when it came to washing his upper thighs she couldn’t resist glancing at him. His eyes were glinting and he had a half-smile on his lips. She rinsed the cloth and made to pull his pyjama trousers down. Suddenly his hand snaked out and grabbed hers. ‘That’s as far as you go, sweetheart,’ he groaned.

  She smiled down at him. ‘Lost your nerve?’ She covered him with the sheet again and tucked him in. ‘At last, payback for the time you humiliated me at Camp Bastion. Remember? The press-ups?’

  He looked at her through slitted eyes. ‘I think we’re quits, don’t you?’

  * * *

  Grinning, Nick watched Tiggy stomp out of the room. God, he’d missed her. Missed her spark, missed the way she lifted her chin whenever she was mad, missed the feel of her hands on his body.

  He’d missed everything about her.

  And now?

  He’d let her go in the first place because he’d wanted her to have the life she deserved. But she hadn’t found someone else; hadn’t had the children she desired. And why not? Had he hurt her so badly she had never let herself trust again? And he’d hurt her all over again by making love to her and walking away. So why the hell was she giving him the time of day? Pity? A sense of guilt for a failed marriage? Ridiculous—and yet what other explanation was there? That she still loved him?

  Was it possible? A unfamiliar feeling spread through his chest, which he vaguely remembered as unadulterated happiness.

  Was there a chance of a future for them?

  Because, God help them both, he still loved her. He’d never stopped loving her. No one had ever come close to making him feel the way she had.

  And the operation seemed to have been a success. He had his life back. But he didn’t want his old life back. Not if it didn’t include Tiggy.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  NICK STOPPED HIS wheelchair outside the front door and frowned.

  He had insisted on wheeling himself. Tiggy wasn’t even allowed to touch the wheelchair, never mind push him, but the doorway to the house had a small lip.

  Nick gritted his teeth, reversed a metre or so down the path and, using his powerful arms, rushed the wheelchair at the door.

  To no avail. As before, the wheelchair jammed against the doorway.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Nick,’ Tiggy said, exasperated. ‘Let me at least get you inside.’

  He turned and glared at her. As if it was her fault.

  ‘I can manage,’ he insisted.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Tiggy responded mildly, squeezing herself past him and into the house. ‘I’m going to make tea. When you get tired of flinging yourself at the immovable object that is the door, let me know.’

  Receiving no response, apart from a not-too-well-hidden snarl, she set about doing as she’d said. She filled the kettle and lifted a couple of mugs from the kitchen cupboard.

  The tea was made when a satisfied laugh came from behind her. Nick was in the kitchen, grinning widely. ‘Told you I could manage,’ he said.

  ‘Would have been easier if you’d allowed me to help.’ She nodded at the table. ‘Tea’s there.’

  ‘We’ve been through this, Tiggy. I’ll have to be in this damn chair for a few days longer but, in the meantime, I will not be treated like—’

  ‘A child?’ Tiggy raised one eyebrow at him. ‘Because you’ve been doing a good imitation of one since we left the hospital.’

  Nick glared at her again and she glared back. ‘Really, Nick, you might be wheelchair-bound but your behaviour over the last couple of hours has been inexcusable.’

  To her surprise, the darkness left his eyes and he grinned.

  ‘Trust you to say what you think, Tiggy. You’re right. I have been behaving badly.’

  No worse than you’ve behaved in the past, she added silently. Damn stubborn man.

  ‘But don’t you see? If I were one of my men, I would give no quarter and neither would they expect any. If they can come to terms with having to learn to walk all over again, so can I.’

  ‘I’m quite sure they accept help when it’s offered.’

  ‘They accept help when they can’t manage for themselves. I’ll do no less.’

  Tiggy shrugged, pretending a nonchalance she was far from feeling. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Nick’s expression darkened. ‘At least there’s a good chance I’ll get back on my feet,’ he muttered.

  ‘For God’s sake, Nick, do you have to flay yourself alive every time you think of one of those poor men? The war isn’t your fault. What happened to them isn’t your fault. You’ve spent the best part of your career doing your damnedest to keep them alive, to keep them from losing their limbs, to keep them whole.’

  ‘I did have help, Tiggy,’ he responded dryly.

  ‘Then what about Luke? You saved his life. You saved his leg. If it hadn’t been for you, God knows what would have happened to him.’ She softened her voice. ‘He told me you’re the reason he became a doctor. Did you know that?’

  ‘It seems to me that Luke tells you way too much.’

  When they had finished their drinks Tiggy picked up the mugs and placed them in the sink.

  ‘Do you want to lie down for a bit? You could use the sofa in the sitting room.’

  ‘I thought we agreed you weren’t going to treat me as a patient. If I want to lie down, I’ll lie down.’

  Tiggy whirled round. ‘Okay. Suit yourself. You can rot in that chair for all I care. I’m going for a run.’

  By the time she returned, she’d exercised away her irritation with Nick. The truth was she wasn’t so much angry with him as unsure of how to be around him.

  Nick was sitting in the armchair with his feet up on a stool, watching football.

  ‘How was your run?’ he asked with a smile.

  Anyone would think she’d imagined the grumpy individual of earlier.

  ‘It was good. Perhaps when you’re up to it we can go together?’

  Nick narrowed his eyes. ‘Give me three weeks.’

  ‘Three weeks! You’re crazy to think you’ll be running in three weeks.’

  ‘Just watch me,’ he said.

  * * *

  Over the next few days they settled into a routine. Tiggy prepared breakfast before she left for work and Nick always made it to the kitchen before it was on the table.

  She suspected he set his al
arm for six to give himself time to get dressed.

  They would eat together then he would shoo her off to work, insisting she leave the breakfast dishes for him.

  By the time she returned from the hospital he’d have a simple dinner ready or, more often, a take-away ordered, and they’d sit at the kitchen table and he would ask her about work. When she suggested she take him out in his wheelchair, he was aghast.

  ‘No way is anyone going to see me in this contraption,’ he protested. ‘I’m not leaving this house until I can walk.’

  ‘Then you’d better keep practising,’ she said.

  The first weekend she slept late and woke up to the smell of coffee. Nick was at the kitchen table, looking pleased with himself.

  ‘Notice anything?’ he asked.

  ‘Yep. Seems you can finally make coffee.’

  ‘You haven’t tasted it yet.’

  And, right enough, as soon as she took a sip she was transported back to the camp and the horrible coffee from the mess tent. She tipped hers down the sink and set about making another, decent pot.

  Nick pretended to be offended. ‘Hey, do you have any idea how long that took me to make?’

  For the first time she noticed he wasn’t in his wheelchair.

  ‘You walked in here?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘I wouldn’t say walked exactly. More like stumbled. But, yes, it won’t be long before we can go running together.’

  ‘Don’t overdo it, Nick.’

  He frowned at her. ‘In my book, there’s no such thing as overdoing it.’

  She ignored him and went to sit at the table. ‘In that case, have you made plans about what you’re going to do when you’re completely fit?’

  ‘I have to appear before the medical board in a few weeks. They’ll make a decision about my fitness to continue with the army then.’

  Although his tone was nonchalant, a muscle twitched in his jaw, the way it always did when he was annoyed about something.

  ‘What if they say no? What will you do then?’

  He raised his eyes. ‘They won’t say no. I’ll make sure of it.’

  ‘You don’t have to stay in the army. As I said before, someone of your experience could walk into a consultant post in any hospital in the UK.’ She paused. ‘Would it still be so terrible to be a civilian doctor?’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s still tough out there. The men need me.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough?’

  He stared into the distance. ‘Who can say what is enough? It never seems to be enough.’ He leaned forward. ‘Almost every week we’re coming up with innovations that save more lives. You know they used to talk about the golden hour? Now they talk about the platinum ten minutes. If we can get the best medical care to the men within that time—assuming they’re still alive—we can usually save them.’

  ‘And it’s people like you who have made it possible.’

  He didn’t seem to be listening to her. He seemed to have gone somewhere inside his head.

  ‘When they stopped me going out on patrol with the men, I was furious. I knew that they needed the most experienced surgeon possible to be right there, alongside them. But once I got to consultant level the bloody command said I was too valuable to risk. Going out with the rapid response team was the next best thing.’ He was speaking so softly she had to strain to hear him. ‘It was bad enough when the injuries were shrapnel or bullet wounds but when they started using IEDs...’ He shook his head. ‘The injuries were more severe than anything we’d ever seen before.’

  He was telling her more than he had in all the years they’d been married.

  ‘But you saved them. Most of them.’

  ‘Not all of them. Remember the soldier we lost when you were there?’ When Tiggy nodded he continued. ‘There was a young female army medic. She was one of the first women to go out on patrol with the men. She was only nineteen. I went out with the RRT when we got the call. We didn’t know what to expect. You know how difficult it is to get the right information back at base. Anyway, by the time we got to her, it was too late. All I could do was hold her. She died in my arms. All the time she was dying I was thinking of you. Thinking of our lives back here. Knowing that you wanted me to give it up so we could have a normal life. I also knew I couldn’t. As long as these men and women were out there, I had to be there too.’

  ‘Why didn’t you talk to me about it?’

  ‘I didn’t want to bring all that home. When I was with you I wanted to think of nothing but you. But I couldn’t get the images out of my head. I couldn’t rest at home, not when I knew I should be with them.’

  ‘I thought you regretted marrying me,’ she said sadly.

  He raised his eyes again and she reeled back from the anguish she saw there.

  ‘I did regret marrying you,’ he said. ‘I loved you, but I couldn’t be with you. Why didn’t you divorce me? My solicitor sent the papers.’

  ‘Perhaps because for me marriage is forever,’ she whispered. Although that wasn’t the true reason. At least, not all of it. She knew now she’d never given up hope that one day he’d come back to her. That weekend, when she’d run away to her mother’s, she’d been so sure he would come after her, tell her that he needed her more than the army, but he hadn’t. When she’d returned home, determined to talk to him, to find a way to be together, he’d gone and had taken most of his belongings with him.

  It had been then that she’d broken down. But she’d refused to call him or write. She wouldn’t beg. If Nick no longer loved her, it was better that he’d left.

  But it had taken years before she’d given up hope that he’d come back. All these years just one little sign from him would have been enough. But that sign had never come.

  She turned away from him. ‘You were the one who really left in the end, remember?’

  ‘I thought it was best.’

  ‘Best for whom?’

  ‘You wanted a baby, Tiggy. I couldn’t. Not then, perhaps not ever.’

  ‘It wasn’t a baby I wanted, Nick. I mean, of course I wanted our child, but only because I wanted something that was part of both of us. Most of all I wanted us to be a normal family. You, me, our child. Our children. What was so wrong with that?’

  He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t want them too. I did, but not when... It was crazy in Afghanistan back then, Tiggy. I saw too many young men die, men with young babies. Men leaving women to cope alone. Just like my mother had to cope with me. I couldn’t do that to you.’

  She pushed herself away from the table. ‘As I said before, it wasn’t something for you to decide on your own. You didn’t have faith in us. You didn’t have faith in me. I was stronger than you gave me credit for. If anything had happened to you it would have broken me, of course it would, but I would have found a way to go on. And if we’d had a child, at least I would have had a part of you.’

  He looked up at her. ‘I know that now, Tigs. But I thought I was doing the best thing for you.’

  She shook her head. ‘That’s not good enough. If you really loved me, Nick, nothing would have kept you away.’ She turned away. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have stuff I need to do.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  TIGGY CAME BACK from work on Monday to the astonishing sight of Nick doing pirouettes in his wheelchair with both twins on his lap.

  ‘Faster!’ Chrissie squealed.

  ‘Go round again,’ Melody, the quieter twin, insisted.

  ‘What on earth is going on? Where did you two come from?’

  The twins, instead of leaping into her arms the way they usually did, stayed where they were, as if glued to Nick.

  ‘Hi, sis.’ Her brother Charlie appeared in the door of the sitting room. ‘We were on our way back from doing some shopping in the city and thought we’d pop in. Mum said Nick was staying with you.’

  He scooped up a twin in each arm and plonked them on the floor. ‘That’s enough, you two. Give Uncle Nick a break.�
��

  ‘Uncle Nick?’ Tiggy mouthed at her brother out of sight of Nick and the twins.

  ‘I thought I would take Nick down to the pub for a pint if you don’t mind keeping an eye on these two rascals. It’s been a while.’

  ‘I don’t imagine Nick wants to go to the pub.’ Behind Nick she shook her head.

  ‘What you doing, Aunty Tiggy?’ Chrissie asked. ‘Why are you shaking your head at Daddy?’

  ‘You never told us we had an Uncle Nick,’ Melody complained. ‘And he’s got a wheelchair.’

  ‘Tiggy thinks I can’t be trusted in a pub, Charlie,’ Nick said. He smiled ruefully. ‘Had one too many a few nights ago.’

  Charlie and Nick had always got along. They had rarely been on leave at the same time, but on the rare occasions they had met, they had always been relaxed in each other’s company. Once they had even gone on a climbing trip together. Charlie had been shocked and annoyed with Tiggy when he’d heard that they’d separated, and had said so. After that, she’d refused to discuss the subject with him.

  Nick was getting to his feet, having pulled his crutches towards him.

  ‘A pint sounds great,’ he said. ‘It may take us a while to get there, though.’

  ‘I’ll give you a lift,’ Tiggy offered.

  Nick frowned at her. ‘No,’ he said. ‘A walk sounds good to me.’

  ‘If you’re not back in an hour or two,’ Tiggy warned, ‘I’ll be down to drag you both out of there.’

  As soon as they’d left, Tiggy organised the children with some colouring pens and paper and set about making dinner.

  When the men still hadn’t returned an hour later she fed the twins. Then she telephoned her sister-in-law to let her know what was happening.

  ‘Nick is back living with you?’ Alice couldn’t have sounded more aghast if Tiggy had said she was shacking up with Genghis Khan.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Tiggy said. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I see you next.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Sorry, I have to go.’ Tiggy knew if she didn’t get off the phone Alice would insist on a blow-by-blow account. On the other hand, the family had probably discussed it around the kitchen table ad nauseam.