Doctor and Son

by Maggie Kingsley

  ‘Her parents both died when she was young, didn’t they?’ Helen frowned, and Gideon nodded.

  ‘Apparently this aunt was the only family she had, and why she didn’t tell anyone is beyond me. Motor neurone’s a hell of a disease, and to think of her working here, then going home and having to look after the poor woman…I only got the full facts out of her last night when she broke down in my room, and I had to comfort her.’

  Gideon’s eyes were fixed on Annie as he spoke, and a dull flush of mortified colour crept across her cheeks. No wonder the specialist registrar had been in his arms yesterday. No wonder Woody had looked so exhausted and thin recently, and she’d stupidly thought the two of them were having an affair.

  ‘Gideon, I don’t see how we’re going to manage without her,’ Helen protested. ‘We’re already postponing ops because our schedules are so full.’

  He nodded. ‘I know it’s going to be difficult, but the trouble is, we haven’t a hope in hell of getting somebody to fill in during her leave of absence.’

  ‘Actually, we might be able to get someone,’ Tom said thoughtfully. ‘An old med school friend of mine has been working in Australia for the past ten years and he’s taking up a post in Canada in the summer. I understand he’s planning to visit some of his old haunts in Britain for a couple of months, but if I lean on him gently I might be able to persuade him to do Woody’s job instead.’

  ‘I don’t remember you ever talking about an old med friend who’d gone to Australia.’ Helen frowned, and her husband grinned.

  ‘That’s because he and I used to get up to the kind of things at med school I wouldn’t want my wife to know about.’

  ‘If you could contact him for me I’d be really grateful,’ Gideon said as Helen laughed, ‘but in the meantime I’m afraid it looks like long hours and precious little time off for any of us.’

  There were collective groans all round but as Helen and Tom headed out the door and Annie made to follow them, Gideon caught her arm firmly.

  ‘Not so fast, young lady. I think you owe me an apology, don’t you?’

  She did, but she wasn’t about to take all the blame.

  ‘What was I supposed to think?’ she said defensively. ‘When I saw you kissing her—heard you’d bought two tickets for the ball tonight—’

  ‘I bought two tickets because I was hoping you’d be my date for this evening.’

  ‘Me?’ she said faintly. ‘But—’

  ‘Annie, I know you’re scared of getting involved with anyone again. Hell, I’m scared, too, but every time we’ve kissed…’ He raked his fingers through his brown hair and smiled. A slightly crooked, rueful smile. ‘When Susan died I thought I could never be attracted to another woman again, but then you came into my life, and…Come with me to the ball tonight, Annie. Please.’

  She wanted to go with him—she really wanted to go—but… ‘I’ll never be able to get a babysitter at such short notice, Gideon.’

  ‘David said he’d watch Jamie for you.’

  ‘David?’ she echoed. ‘You’ve spoken to my brother about this?’

  Gideon looked a little shamefaced. ‘Well, I had to ring him about something else…’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘And I just happened to mention that the hospital was holding a dance tonight, and he said he wasn’t working this evening and he’d nothing planned so he’d be more than happy to babysit.’

  Her brother without a date on a Friday night—and not just any night but St Valentine’s night? No way. Never. He’d cancelled. For her, he’d cancelled.

  ‘No pressure, Annie,’ Gideon continued, watching her. ‘We’ll take it slowly—one step at a time—and we won’t be alone tonight. There’ll probably be over a hundred and fifty couples at the ball so we’ll just dance a few dances—’

  ‘I’ve got two left feet—’

  ‘Then we’ll shuffle about together a bit.’

  ‘I’ve only got one posh dress—’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in it. Please, Annie. I would very much like you to come.’

  Helen would never let her hear the end of it. Neither would Liz. She’d have days—probably weeks—of questions to answer, speculation to endure, but Gideon looked suddenly so very vulnerable. Vulnerable, and uncertain, and before she could stop herself she said, ‘All right. I’ll come.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘MUMMY, you look like a fairy princess.’

  ‘Why, thank you, sweetheart.’ Annie laughed as her son gazed up at her in wide-eyed, frank admiration.

  ‘Actually, the boy’s quite right,’ David commented, his eyes taking in her blue silk dress with its tiny puffed sleeves, fitted waist and wide, floor-length skirt. ‘You do look pretty good.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s too tight?’ she asked, fastening the heart-shaped crystal pendant he’d given her for her birthday. ‘I haven’t worn this since before Jamie was born, and my waistline’s a lot bigger now—’

  ‘Annie, when Gideon Caldwell sees you in that it’ll blow his socks off.’

  She didn’t know about blowing his socks off, but she did know she’d never got ready to go out in such a rush before.

  Not arriving home until after five o’clock hadn’t helped. Mrs Simpson had been violently sick when she’d come round from the anaesthetic following her hysterectomy, then Sylvia Renton’s husband had wanted a word that had stretched to a full forty minutes of reassurance about his son, and then she’d had to placate the day-care centre when she’d arrived late yet again.

  Luckily David had arrived early for his babysitting duties, but with Jamie running in and out of the bedroom to see what she was doing, and then discovering she’d had to breathe in really hard to get into her one and only evening dress, it was a wonder she didn’t look like a frazzled wreck.

  Actually, she did look like a frazzled wreck, she thought as she gazed at herself in the sitting-room mirror. There’d been no time to go to the hairdresser’s so she’d washed and blow-dried her hair at home. Nine tenths of the time it would have come out perfectly, but this time—the time it really mattered—her wayward curls just wouldn’t lie the way she wanted them to. And then she’d blinked just after she’d finished applying her mascara, and everyone knew it was never the same when you did it again.

  ‘Trust me, love, you look gorgeous,’ David murmured, clearly reading her thoughts.

  ‘I’ll settle for halfway OK,’ she said with a shaky laugh, then jumped when her front doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Gideon. Could you let him in for me? I…I’ve got to collect my handbag.’

  It was the truth, but not the whole truth. She needed those extra few seconds to calm herself.

  Lord, but she was as nervous as a teenager on her first date, she realised, smoothing down her dress and noticing that her hands were shaking. And that was the trouble. This was a date. Not a simple visit to the park with Jamie, but a real, honest-to-goodness date.

  Before, they’d had Jamie to focus on, to distract and divert them, but this time she would be on her own.

  What if they found they had nothing to talk about? What if Gideon discovered she was actually as boring as hell without her son, with no conversation or interests outside medicine? She should have said no. She should have said he’d given her far too little time to get ready, but now he was here, and it was too late. Too late to change her mind.

  ‘Prince Charming’s here.’

  She turned vexedly to tell David to stop playing the fool, only for the words to die in her throat when she saw Gideon standing beside him. Somebody had once told her there wasn’t a man born who couldn’t be transformed into a handsome prince by evening dress or a kilt. She hadn’t believed them. She believed it now.

  Dressed in a dark evening suit, with an immaculate white shirt, crisp bow-tie and his hair neatly brushed down, he didn’t look like Gideon Caldwell at all. He looked handsome, and desirable, and all the things she’d once thought he wasn’t, and she was doubly convinced that he
r dress was too tight and her hair was all wrong.

  ‘You…you look very nice, Annie,’ he murmured.

  ‘Nice?’ David protested. ‘Good grief, man, she looks terrific. Wonderful. Drop-dead gorgeous.’

  Gideon flushed, and raked a hand through his hair so it wasn’t smooth any more but stood a little bit on end like it always did at work, and suddenly he was the Gideon Caldwell she knew again. The Gideon Caldwell of the rough tweed jacket and the shirt with the button missing. The Gideon Caldwell she’d liked from the very first moment she’d met him. She smiled shyly.

  ‘I…I think you look very nice, too,’ she said.

  David threw his eyes heavenwards as though to say he washed his hands of the pair of them, but Gideon didn’t seem to notice. His lips curved, and he said, ‘I’m afraid I can’t offer you a glass carriage, but my ever so slightly rusty Peugeot is ready whenever you are.’

  He helped her on with her coat, his hands briefly squeezing her shoulders, and she knew that she didn’t need a carriage. He was enough. More than enough.

  ‘Have a nice time,’ David said. ‘And don’t do anything I wouldn’t. Which pretty much gives the pair of you carte blanche to do anything.’

  ‘Just make sure Jamie’s in bed at a reasonable hour,’ Annie replied pointedly. ‘I know what he’s like—and I know what you’re like—and I don’t want to come home and discover he’s still up.’

  ‘Oh, you won’t.’ David beamed. ‘That I can positively guarantee.’

  For a second she had the strangest feeling he was up to something, but then Jamie grabbed her round the knees and hugged her.

  ‘I still think you look like a fairy princess,’ he whispered, and her throat closed, and she hugged him back.

  She felt like one, too, as Gideon escorted her down to his car. She felt strange, and unreal, and excited, all at the same time.

  It was only when they arrived at the Grosvenor Hotel, and she saw the happy throng of Belfield staff going in, that a momentary doubt assailed her.

  ‘You do realise we’re never going to hear the end of this, don’t you?’ she said as Gideon switched off his ignition. ‘The minute we walk in that door every tongue in the place is going to wag, and what they don’t know they’re going to make up.’

  He turned to her, his face ruggedly handsome in the streetlight, and smiled. ‘You know something? Right now, I don’t give a damn.’

  Neither did she. Not even when Liz collared her as she hung up her coat and said, ‘Talk about dark horses, Annie Hart.’

  And Helen grabbed her hand and said, ‘I’m so pleased. Oh, I can’t tell you how pleased I am.’

  Everything about this evening seemed unreal-magical. From the fairy-tale lights and heart-shaped balloons strung over the function room to the finger buffet and the sparkling wine. From the speech from the head of Admin, welcoming everyone to the event, to the potent love songs the band was playing.

  And Gideon. Always there was Gideon, looking incredibly handsome and desirable in his evening suit. Gideon constantly by her side, identifying the people she didn’t know. Gideon’s eyes fixed on her so tenderly, making her feel special, and cared for, and cherished.

  Which was why she didn’t even make a token protest when he urged her out onto the dance floor. Why, when he slid one hand round her waist and captured her hand against his heart, drawing her close to him so that her head just fitted against his shoulder, she didn’t remember one very important thing.

  ‘You weren’t kidding, were you, when you said you had two left feet?’ he murmured, wincing slightly after she’d stood on his foot yet again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said in consternation. ‘Do you want to forget this—sit down again?’

  ‘Not on your life.’ He grinned. ‘Cinderella’s got to have at least one flaw, and if trampling on my feet is her only one, I can live with it.’

  And she laughed and let him draw her firmly back into his arms, and felt the magic and wonder of the evening engulf her again.

  How had she got to be this lucky? Meeting somebody like Gideon when she’d been so sure—so determined—she would live out the rest of her life alone? Now suddenly the world was full of wonderful possibilities.

  And feelings, too, she realised, when he refused to release her after the music stopped but wanted to dance with her again, and again. Holding her closer and closer to him with every dance, heedless of her awkward feet, moulding his body to hers, so that she could feel the uneven throb of his heartbeat, could see his eyes growing darker and more intense with every passing second.

  So much for taking it one step at a time, she thought, sighing against his shoulder when she felt his lips brush her hair. So much for her determination to be independent, to never let a man into her life again.

  It was all gone, she realised as she lifted her head and stared up at him and saw the need and desire in his eyes. Gone in this man’s arms. Gone because he was Gideon, and she wanted him.

  ‘Hey, some of us came here to dance,’ somebody protested, and they drew apart quickly, Annie not knowing whose cheeks were redder—hers or Gideon’s.

  Lord, he’d said they wouldn’t be alone tonight, but they might just as well have been for all the notice they’d been taking of anybody else.

  ‘I think I’d better drive you home before I completely forget myself,’ Gideon said with a shaky laugh, clearly mirroring her thoughts.

  She managed to laugh, too, but she didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want this magical evening to end. David would be at home, waiting to grill her, and she wanted to hold onto these wonderful precious feelings for just a little while longer. Wanted to postpone his inquisition, and the even bigger inquisition she knew she’d undoubtedly face from her colleagues tomorrow.

  But she couldn’t. It was almost midnight, and even Cinderella hadn’t been permitted to enjoy her evening beyond that.

  ‘I’ll get my coat,’ she said reluctantly, and his fingers tightened briefly round her hand, then he nodded.

  To her relief, she didn’t meet anybody she knew on her way to the cloakroom. In fact, the foyer and bar were deserted except for Tom and a group of other doctors, but as they were all clustered round the hotel TV she knew she was safe from an inquisition for the moment.

  ‘Good game?’ she couldn’t resist saying just for devilment, and saw Tom’s head snap round guiltily.

  ‘Terrific, Annie,’ he enthused, relief plain on his face when he realised it was her. ‘One goal each, two cracking shots at the crossbar, and there’s still another fifteen minutes to go.’

  And Helen will kill you if she finds you here, Annie thought with a wry inward chuckle.

  Would she and Gideon eventually become like that? she wondered as she retrieved her coat. He being more interested in watching a football match than in dancing with her?

  Whoa, there, she told herself, catching sight of her flushed cheeks, her bright eyes, in the cloakroom mirror. Slow down. Who’s rushing now? This is your first proper date with the man. A date that’s going to end when he takes you home.

  Which was probably just as well, she thought as Gideon drove her through the dark city streets and she sat beside him acutely and painfully aware of his presence. Everything was moving much too fast, and it was just as well David and Jamie were going to be there to put the brakes on.

  Except that they weren’t.

  ‘Have decided to take Jamie back to my place,’ David had written on a piece of paper taped to the mantelpiece. ‘After all, two’s company, and four’s most definitely a crowd. I’ll drop him off at the day care centre for you tomorrow so why don’t you and Gideon take the opportunity to really get to know one another?’

  ‘Do you want to kill him, or will I?’ Annie said.

  ‘He means well.’

  ‘That’s the story of my brother’s life.’

  Gideon chuckled. A warm deep sound that made the sitting room seem even quieter than it had been before. Made him seem altogether much bigger and a hell of a
lot more immediate than he’d done before.

  Oh, lord, but she’d been the one who’d wanted the evening to never end. She should have been careful what she’d wished for.

  ‘Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?’ she blurted out, then flushed when she realised how that must sound. ‘Not that I’m asking you to go—I mean, I’m not throwing you out or anything—’

  ‘Annie, I know what you mean,’ he said gently. ‘And a cup of coffee would be lovely.’

  She didn’t know about lovely but at least it would give her something to do. Some time to calm her skittering heart. Some time to get her jumbled thoughts and feelings into order, and to forget the implication in David’s letter.

  ‘One cup of coffee coming up,’ she said brightly, much too brightly, when she carried the mugs into the sitting room.

  Gideon was sitting on the sofa. For a second she hesitated but it would look odd if she sat way over by the fireplace so she sat down on the sofa, too, thanking her lucky stars that her landlady had provided a three-seater because at least it meant there was a wide, comforting gap between them.

  ‘Nice coffee,’ Gideon observed, taking a sip.

  ‘It’s just instant. David gave me a percolator but I’ve never quite got the hang of it, and it takes for ever to heat.’

  He nodded, and she felt like an idiot. Babbling on about coffee and percolators, but her brain felt like a sieve. Her brain totally emptied when he undid his bow-tie, then the top button of his shirt.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said with a sigh of relief, rolling and stretching his neck. ‘I’ve been feeling half-strangled all night. Whoever designed bow-ties and high starched collars should have been shot.’

  Or given a medal, she thought, trying very hard not to notice the tantalising V of dark, silky hair he’d exposed.

  ‘I…I expect Jamie will be as high as a kite tomorrow,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘He’s not used to late hours and David will never think of putting him to bed at a reasonable hour.’