‘Have done for years,’ he grumbled.
‘Well, you can’t now. What size shoe do you take?’
‘Eight. Maybe seven. Depends what’s in the bins.’
David Fellows rolled his eyes. ‘It’s illegal to go through people’s rubbish, Fred. Anyway, it just so happens we’ve been turning out the loft and there are lots of my son’s old shoes—good leather shoes that he’s outgrown. I’m sure there’s a pair of size eights in amongst them. I’ll look them out and drop them in to your sister for you. There might be some socks and trousers as well.’
‘Thank you, Doc,’ Fred said, clearly touched. ‘Tha’s right kind of you.’
‘My pleasure. It’ll save you going through my dustbin. Anna, I’ll do the prescription, if you could make sure he gets it?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll do my best. Right, Fred, that’s your head sewn up again. I think there’s a pair of socks in here someone left behind ages ago. Put these on, and go home and take them all off and let your feet dry out a bit. And, now, listen to me, stay away from that pavement!’
‘What ‘bout my prescription?’ he asked.
‘I’ll get it for you now and drop it by on my way
She went to the chemist, popped the cream for Fred’s feet in at his sister’s and went home to the farm. Her mother was just dishing up soup and sandwiches, and she grabbed a bowl and plate and squeezed in.
‘Smells good,’ she said.
‘Harry helped with the sandwiches, didn’t you, darling?’
‘Egg and cress?’
Her mother smiled. ‘Actually, no. Chicken and salad. Harry spread the mayonnaise.’
Which explained why some were dripping with it and others bone dry. Anna didn’t care. She loved him. She ate her lunch and dashed back to the surgery, covering another antenatal clinic for David in the absence of the midwife.
There was exciting news as well. ‘I’ve just heard from Suzanna,’ one of their very pregnant patients told them. ‘She’s had her baby—a little girl, three and an half kilos—what’s that, about eight pounds?’
‘Something like that,’ David agreed. ‘Oh, that’s excellent. Everything OK?’
‘Fine, I think. She was born at twelve—two hours ago. She rang just as I was leaving. I’m so jealous, I can’t wait for it to all be over.’
Just then the receptionist came out, looking pink and bubbly. ‘Dr Korrel’s had a little girl—she just rang. Isn’t that wonderful?’
‘Wonderful,’ they all agreed, and then the patient who’d told them dropped a bombshell.
‘I don’t think she wants to come back,’ she said. ‘She’s
And that would leave a vacancy, Anna thought.
A vacancy Max could fill.
Permanently?
The nerves wouldn’t be held back any longer. She found it hard to concentrate, impossible to forget.
She left work, went home to her parents’ and made herself busy in the kitchen.
She was alone there when Max walked in, and she dropped the knife into the sink with nerveless fingers and turned to him, searching his face for any hint.
He looked exhausted. Lines of strain were etched around his eyes, and he looked very serious.
‘Hi,’ she said softly. She wanted to ask, but she didn’t dare.
‘Can we go for a walk?’ he asked.
She nodded, scrubbed her hands on the old cotton pinny and took it off, slipping her feet back into her shoes. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere. The woods?’
They walked in silence for a while, until she thought she’d die of terror. She could feel the tension radiating off him, and she just knew it had been bad news.
‘I thought you weren’t coming back,’ she said at last, her voice shaking with the effort of self-control.
‘I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been thinking—about us, about Harry.’
‘Max, stay,’ she begged, turning to him and taking his hands. ‘Please, don’t run away again. I don’t care if I have to watch you suffer. It can’t be worse than not knowing what you’re going through and not being there for you. Stay, and
He stared down into her eyes, his own unfathomable, and then he smiled, a shaky, emotional smile that came from his heart.
‘It’s all right, Annie,’ he said softly. ‘I’m still in remission. All the tests were clear. I’ve come back to ask you to marry me.’
CHAPTER TEN
ANNA stared at Max, dumbstruck.
‘But—I thought—you looked so—’
‘Unsure? Terrified? I didn’t know if you’d say yes. I thought maybe, with this hanging over us, you’d decided you wanted out.’
‘I will never want out,’ she told him, her voice firm now. ‘No matter what happens in the future, I will never want to leave you. Please, believe that. I know remission is only that—that there’s no guarantee of a cure. It may be a temporary reprieve, it may be permanent. I realise that. But, whatever happens, however bad it gets, I’ll be here. OK?’
He nodded, and his eyes filled. ‘Thank you, Annie. I don’t think I could leave you anyway. I was going to—if the news was bad, I promised myself I wouldn’t come back, but I don’t know if I would have been strong enough to stay away. I love you both too much—I need you too much.’
‘Thank goodness you didn’t need to put it to the test,’ she said, reaching out for him. ‘Come here. You’ve just proposed to me and you haven’t even kissed me yet.’
‘You haven’t said yes yet,’ he reminded her, a smile flickering around his mouth.
Her voice cracked and she threw herself into his waiting arms. His mouth came down and met hers, hungry and passionate and needy, and she felt her knees go weak.
‘I need to sit down,’ she told him breathlessly when they came up for air. ‘I’ve been running on adrenaline all day and I can’t stand any more.’
He gave a heartfelt chuckle. ‘You and me both, darling. How about this log?’
They sat down on the fallen tree, careless of his smart trousers and her uniform dress, and he slung his arm round her shoulder and hugged her to his side.
‘I’m sorry I can’t give you any guarantees,’ he said softly. ‘I’d love to be able to say I was definitely cured, but I can’t.’
‘Max, there are no guarantees. Who’s to say I won’t die before you of breast cancer or heart disease? Nobody ever knows. It’s just the odds that change.’
He nodded. ‘I suppose so.’ He stroked her hair absently with his fingers, playing with the strands. She could almost hear the cogs turning. ‘Where are we going to live?’ he asked eventually.
‘Ah. A friend of Suzanna’s was in today—she’s had her baby, and the friend says she doesn’t think she’ll want to come back.’
His hand stilled, and he turned his head and looked at her searchingly. ‘Her job might come up as a permanent one?’
Anna nodded. ‘It’s possible—but if not, I’m sure there are other permanent jobs around—always assuming you’ve stopped running now and you’re prepared to settle down?’
‘You could have a garden,’ she told him softly.
He nodded. ‘The cottage is for sale. Would you fancy living there, or would you want to stay in your house?’
‘I’d like the cottage. It’s a bit sad—the kitchen and bathroom could do with a bit of attention, and the garden’s a wilderness—but it’s in a lovely spot. Super for Harry and Felix.’
He chewed his lip thoughtfully, his face serious again. ‘Um, I know it’s a bit soon to think about it, perhaps, but how would you feel about having another baby?’
She stared at him in astonishment. ‘But I thought the treatment—we haven’t bothered to use anything. I thought it was because it was safe—that you couldn’t?’
‘I can’t,’ he said quietly. ‘Well, not like that, anyway. The chemo’s knocked out all my sperm-producing cells. But before the treatment, they asked me if I wanted to store any frozen sperm and…I thought…just in case one
day I might be cured…I might come and find you, if you weren’t married.’
‘But you left me.’
‘Only because I didn’t think it was fair to drag you through that hell. And when they asked about the sperm bank, I didn’t think of anybody else, just you. Just in case. To be honest, I thought it was a waste of time, because it wouldn’t ever happen, but, yes, it is possible, if you don’t
Her heart bubbled over with happiness. ‘I don’t care how it happens,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t think we’d ever have another child, and I’d love one.’
‘Would you stay at home and look after them?’
‘Like a shot,’ she said, laughing. ‘Absolutely. And you could come home for lunch and sit outside in the garden with us and sniff roses.’
‘In January?’ he said drily.
‘We could have a conservatory.’
He chuckled, then sighed with relief and hugged her. ‘So, when are we getting married?’
‘Soon,’ she said firmly. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we’re about five years overdue for this. I’m not waiting any longer than I absolutely have to!’
‘What do you think your parents will say?’ he asked.
‘They’ll be ecstatic. What about yours? Have you told them the news?’
‘Yes—I rang them on the train. I also told them I was going to ask you to marry me. They’re waiting to hear, but I don’t suppose they’ll be surprised. My mother said you’d say yes.’
‘Of course I’d say yes. I’d have said yes no matter what they’d come up with.’
‘There is one bit of news,’ he said, almost as an afterthought. ‘They’re working on a vaccine—it’s designed to seek out and kill any lymphoma cells of that specific type, and once you’re vaccinated it’s for life. So, if any cells crop up in the future, the antibodies recognise them and blitz them. It’s still undergoing trials, but if I can keep well long enough…’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, I think so. I think it’s time. Let’s tell him now.’
They went back to the farmhouse, and found Harry standing on a chair at the sink, washing his hands. George was at the table, reading the paper, a steaming mug of tea on the table beside him, and Sarah was busy at the Aga, stirring something that smelled delicious.
‘Max—Anna!’ Sarah said, scanning their smiling faces. ‘Is it good news?’ she asked hopefully, her knuckles white on the Aga rail.
Anna nodded. ‘Yes—yes, it’s good news. And we’ve got some more news,’ she said, looking at Harry. ‘Darling, come here.’
She dried his hands and pulled out a chair, taking him on her lap. ‘Do you remember how I told you your father had to go away and leave us?’
He nodded. ‘But I don’t want him back now. I want Max to be my daddy,’ he said, squirming off her lap and heading for his hero.
Max swallowed hard and scooped him up. ‘Well, isn’t that a good job, Harry?’ he said. ‘Because I really am your father.’
Harry looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Really? My real, proper dad?’
Max nodded, and Harry grinned. Then a shadow crossed his face, and he leant back, looking up at Max. ‘Are you going away again?’ he asked worriedly.
‘Good,’ he said, and snuggled his face into his neck. ‘So are you going to get married, like real mums and dads?’
They all laughed, easing the tension.
‘Absolutely,’ Max said. ‘It’s going to be the best wedding in the world.’
Nothing was ever simple, Anna thought, scanning through the racks of wedding dresses in the bridal shop on her afternoon off. From the small, quick, quiet wedding she had envisaged, it had escalated into the society wedding of the year—or, at least, that’s what it felt like.
There were to be three bridesmaids—Daisy, Emily and Sophie—and three page-boys—Stephen, Thomas and Harry. There were uncles and aunts and colleagues and friends, people from university and old school friends—the list kept growing, and Anna wondered where it would all end.
From a simple meal at the local pub, the reception had grown to a champagne buffet in a marquee on the lawn at her parents’ house, in the flower garden, and the church was going to be bursting at the seams.
And Max was loving every second of it.
Anna indulged him. She didn’t care, so long as they were married.
She pulled out a dress and looked at it, then put it back. ‘They’re all so fussy,’ she complained to her mother.
‘How about mine?’
‘Yours?’
‘Yes. It’s in tissue paper in the trunk in the hall. Let’s go home and look.’
‘Oh, Anna, you look lovely,’ her mother said, going pink and trying not to cry.
‘You’re going to be awful, aren’t you?’ Anna said fondly.
Sarah nodded. ‘Probably. You’ll just have to ignore me—put a bag over my head or something. What do you think?’
‘It might mess up your hat.’
Her mother flapped her hand. ‘Not the bag—the dress! What do you think of the dress?’
Anna looked in the long mirror by the front door, and nodded. ‘Yes, I think you’re right. It’s lovely on me. Much better than all those fussy meringues and off-the-shoulder bits of fluff. Not me at all. I’m too short and dumpy.’
‘You aren’t dumpy!’ her mother chastised. ‘You’re lovely. You’re just not a boy.’
‘Whatever. We need to get it dry-cleaned, I suppose. And what about the little bridesmaids? Do they need a similar style?’
They’d looked at so many little dresses that they couldn’t remember what they’d seen. It needed another trip with the girls.
‘There’s the veil as well,’ her mother said, rooting around in the trunk. ‘Here it is.’ It was the lightest lace, long enough to form a train, and in the same soft ivory as the dress.
‘It’s a much better colour on you than white,’ her mother said.
‘Because I’m a scarlet woman?’ Anna offered.
‘Because it’s more flattering to your skin tone,’ Sarah
Especially when he’s aroused, Anna thought, smiling. They smouldered with promise.
‘I can’t believe this is all going to happen in just three weeks,’ she said, feeling weak just at the thought of all that had to be done.
‘Well, it is. The invitations have already gone out—we only have that long.’
‘We could have done it quietly,’ Anna pointed out.
Her mother laughed. ‘No way. This is more than a marriage. It’s a celebration of life—of Max’s life, of Harry’s, of your lives together. It’s going to be a party to remember. And that reminds me, I need to ring the photographer.’
Anna went back to work the next day with a sense of relief. Normality at last, she thought. A bit of routine. A few inoculations, taking out the odd set of stitches, taking some blood—wonderful. Sanity.
Then Suzanna brought her baby in for everyone to see, and told David that she wasn’t coming back. They were sitting in the garden—Suzanna, David, Anna and Max—and she announced her decision in a calm, quiet voice.
‘I’m sorry to dump it on you,’ she said to David, ‘but I’m so happy at home with the baby, and I never thought I would be. And I hear Max is settled in well and everyone gets on, so I thought—well, as he’s staying in the area, maybe he’d like it permanently.’
All eyes swung to Max, and he gave a quiet huff of laughter. ‘I’d love it, but don’t you have to interview and
He stood up and gave them a wry smile. ‘Perhaps you need time to think about it—but if the offer’s there, the answer’s yes.’
And he went out, leaving Suzanna open-mouthed.
‘Oh, David, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. But—Anna—I thought you were getting married?’
‘We are,’ she said gently. ‘Anyway, he’s in remission, and we’re keeping our fingers crossed for this new vaccine. Just in case.’
Suzanna looked back to David, her face distressed. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said a
nything.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’d already decided to offer him the job. If he has to stop, it won’t be his fault, and maybe by then you’d want to come back anyway. There’s a hell of a lot of water got to go under a great many bridges before we need to worry about that one, I’m sure. Now, let me have a cuddle with that baby.’
Anna went to find Max to tell him the news. He was in his consulting room, staring blankly across the room.
‘He wants you.’
‘Now?’
She shook her head. ‘For the job. He’d already decided to offer it to you—he was waiting to hear from Suzanna.’
He stared at her for an age, then let his breath out on a gusty sigh. ‘Really? He wants me? Annie, that’s wonderful!’ A smile lit up his face, and he pulled her into his arms and hugged her.
‘Pardon me for breaking up the happy party, but could
‘Come in.’
‘I’ll go—I’ve got things to do.’
She closed the door behind her and went back to her room, tidying it in readiness for the afternoon surgery. She restocked her shelves, sorted out the ECG leads and changed the paper on the couch, then went to grab a cup of coffee.
Max and David were in the office, looking at dates and deciding when he would officially take over, while Suzanna and her baby were in the centre of a cluster of practice staff at the other end of the office.
‘Excellent,’ David said, straightening up and holding out his hand. ‘Welcome aboard.’
It was a wonderful start to their marriage, Max thought. A real job, some kind of security, complete remission, the cottage signed and sealed. All they had to do now was get through the wedding!
It was three days away, the forecast was wonderful and life was good.
Valerie Hawkshead came to see him, her hair slowly regrowing over the incision site on the top of her skull, and she was brighter and happier than he’d ever seen her.
She was to come for regular health checks, in between routine hospital appointments, and it was obvious that she was doing really well.
‘I felt so bad,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing, who I was—anything. I was so frightened. It was easier to do nothing, to just hide. But I feel so well now, do you suppose I could go back to work?’
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