Mediterranean Rescue

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘You said you shouldn’t have come out with me,’ he said, ‘but you did, so I can’t see another half-hour will make too much difference. Besides, I could do with another coffee.’

  Still she hesitated, knowing deep down that letting him into her flat at this time of night could be madness, but at the same time—and probably because of the wine she had drunk with her meal—ready to throw caution to the winds.

  ‘I promise to behave,’ he said, making up her mind for her.

  ‘All right,’ she replied, rapidly coming to a decision, ‘just for half an hour. A quick coffee, that’s all.’

  ‘But of course,’ he murmured as he followed her up the path. ‘What else?’

  To her dismay Claire found that her fingers were shaking slightly as she tried to insert her key into the lock, but at last she succeeded and only moments later Dominic was following her up the stairs and into her flat. Leaving him in the sitting room, she immediately headed for the kitchen where she brewed a pot of coffee, which she set on a tray with two china mugs, a small jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.

  ‘Nice,’ he said, when she came back and set the tray down on the low table. ‘Real coffee.’

  ‘I know you prefer real coffee to instant,’ she said without thinking.

  ‘How do you know that?’ There was a half-amused expression on his face as he looked up at her from the sofa where he had obviously made himself very comfortable.

  ‘I don’t know…’ She frowned. ‘I must have heard you say some time—either at work or maybe…maybe it was in Italy…’

  ‘Ah, Italy,’ he said softly, watching her closely as she poured the coffee. ‘We had some good coffee in Italy, didn’t we?’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘we did.’

  ‘Do you remember that little street café in the corner of the Piazza Navonna?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded as he indicated for her to join him on the sofa and, without thinking, she did so. ‘And that funny little waiter with the moustache who wanted to practise his English?’

  ‘Of course.’ They laughed at the shared memory. ‘There were so many things…’ he said after a moment.

  ‘Yes,’ Claire agreed, ‘I was thinking last night…’ she went on slowly, then she hesitated.

  ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘What were you thinking last night?’

  ‘Oh, nothing really…’ She shook her head, uncertain now that she should be sharing these thoughts with him.

  ‘No, go on,’ he said. ‘I want to know.’

  ‘About that little village we went to before…before the monastery.’

  ‘Those wonderful views?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but what I was really thinking about was the quiet…’

  ‘You mean that almost electric feeling in the air?’

  ‘Partly that, I suppose,’ she said slowly, ‘but also in that little church, the wonderful sense of peace…do you remember that?’

  He nodded. ‘You could say that was the calm before the storm,’ he said quietly. They were silent for a while, each reflecting on individual memories, then Dominic spoke again. ‘Isn’t it a good thing we can’t see what is going to happen?’ he said, and when she nodded in reply he went on, ‘If we could, we would lead much of our lives in a permanent state of anxiety.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Claire agreed. ‘Just think, if we’d known of the terror that was to come we would never have experienced those wonderful moments of calm because we would have been consumed by dread.’

  Reaching along the sofa, he took her hand. ‘Were you very frightened?’ he asked, his fingers tightening over hers.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘I was terrified. What about you?’ She threw him a sidelong glance but didn’t withdraw her hand.

  ‘It was pretty scary stuff, wasn’t it?’ he said with a grimace. ‘I have to say, there were a couple of moments when I thought our time was up.’

  ‘You didn’t give any indication that you were afraid,’ she said. ‘You were so calm throughout it all.’

  He laughed. ‘Put it down to my training,’ he said.

  ‘Is your shoulder all right now?’ She allowed her gaze to roam to the shoulder that had been injured, the one she had dressed so tenderly.

  ‘It’s much better,’ he said. ‘Still a bit sore at times, but a lot better than it was.’

  ‘It could have been much worse,’ she said.

  ‘I know, but I put it down to the fact that I had a good nurse on hand.’

  Claire lowered her gaze, suddenly unable to cope with the expression she was seeing in his eyes. ‘I hope,’ she said quickly, ‘the others are all getting on all right. We know about Diane and Ted…But Peter, that was a nasty gash he had on his head…And then there was Nicola, I hope her baby was safe after her ordeal…And Evelyn—do you think she is all right?’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ Dominic replied firmly. ‘In fact, I’m sure they all are.’

  ‘There was so little we could do,’ Claire went on, ‘so few resources at our disposal.’

  ‘I think we improvised very well,’ Dominic replied, ‘what with your wet wipes, Nicola’s T-shirt and your scarf, and I think until my dying day I will carry an image in my head of Archie’s triumphant expression as he presented us with those table legs for Ted’s splints.’

  ‘I know.’ Claire began to laugh. ‘And that ward round we did in the dark, stumbling around, bumping into things and tripping over. I’ll never forget that as long as I live…’

  ‘It was quite a night, wasn’t it?’ said Dominic, joining in her laughter. ‘What I couldn’t believe was how cold it became after that burning sun during the day. It was a good job we had each other to keep us warm…’ He trailed off as his eyes met hers and suddenly—and afterwards she wasn’t sure quite how it had happened—they were no longer laughing, he had covered the short distance between them on the sofa and she was in his arms.

  ‘Dominic…’ she whispered, and then his mouth claimed hers in a kiss so tender, so deep and so passionate that it silenced anything she might have been about to say. It had an inevitability about it, as if they had both been hurtling headlong toward this moment from the very instant he had arrived at the Hargreaves Centre and walked back into her life. It took them back to that one night of bliss that they had spent in each other’s arms, reminding Claire, if she had needed any such reminder, of just how good it had been between them.

  But in the end it was Claire who drew away, albeit reluctantly, for if she was truthful she knew at that moment that she could have quite happily stayed in Dominic’s arms for ever. ‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ she whispered. She turned away from him, only for him to reach out for her again, drawing her back, then taking her face between his hands and lifting it for his kiss.

  ‘I want you, Claire,’ he muttered huskily in the moment before his lips covered hers again.

  She gave herself up once again to the thrill of being kissed by him but when treacherously her body began clamouring for more, and she knew that he was well aware of that fact, she once again pulled away from him and this time she struggled to her feet. ‘This is madness, Dominic,’ she protested. ‘I knew this would happen—I should never have let you come in.’

  He stared up at her pleadingly for a long moment then he must have seen the tormented confusion in her eyes for with a deep sigh he raked his fingers through his hair then hauled himself to his feet. ‘I’d better go,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Dominic, I’m sorry but you had.’ In a desperate attempt to get her own feelings under control Claire turned away.

  He left immediately, acknowledging her only with a light, almost unbearably poignant touch of farewell on her cheek as he passed her on his way to the door.

  In the profound silence after he had gone Claire found her cheeks were wet with tears. She really shouldn’t have let him come in, she knew that, just as she knew she shouldn’t have gone out with him in the first place. It had been asking for trouble to do such a thing, that was
now perfectly obvious. She shouldn’t have let herself be seduced by Dominic’s talk of there being no harm in it, that they were friends, colleagues. There was no way that she and Dominic could ever just be friends or simply colleagues after what had happened between them in Rome.

  Dashing away her tears, she set about clearing up the coffee-tray but while she was still struggling to control her emotions her phone suddenly rang. Wildly, and unreasonably so, she thought it must be Dominic and grabbed the receiver ready in that instant to tell him that she wanted him back, that she didn’t care about anyone or anything else, that what they had found in each other was the only thing that mattered.

  ‘Hello?’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Claire?’ Her heart sank like a stone. It was Mike.

  ‘Claire, I tried to ring you earlier—where have you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘I went out.’ Suddenly she felt irritated. Why shouldn’t she have gone out, for heaven’s sake? Mike had been the one to let her down. What right did he now have to question how she had spent her evening?

  ‘Oh, I see…’ As he spoke, Claire realised he wasn’t bothered about where she had been and that there was an edge in his tone that was new, an urgency she hadn’t heard before. ‘Claire, listen,’ he said. ‘Something’s happened. I’m at the hospital.’

  ‘The hospital?’ she echoed. ‘Why? What is it, Mike, what’s happened? Are you all right?’

  ‘It isn’t me,’ he said. ‘It’s Stephen—he’s had an accident.’

  ‘Oh, Mike!’ She was genuinely concerned. ‘What’s happened? Is he all right?’

  ‘He was injured whilst playing rugby,’ said Mike. ‘There is concern about the vertebrae in his neck. We are waiting for him to have a scan.’

  ‘Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Did you want me to come to the hospital?’

  ‘No, Jan’s here with me—it’s Emma we are worried about. She was spending the evening at a friend’s house. I was ringing to see if you could pick her up.’

  ‘Of course I will,’ said Claire immediately. ‘Give me the address.’

  ‘It’s rather late now,’ said Mike, a little huffily Claire thought, ‘but I don’t suppose it will matter.’

  ‘Do you want me to bring her back here for the rest of the night?’ asked Claire.

  ‘No, I’ve spoken to her,’ said Mike, ‘and she’s adamant that she wants to come here to the hospital.’ He went on to give her the address of Emma’s friend.

  ‘OK,’ said Claire, ‘that’s no problem. I’ll see you shortly.’

  Even before she’d hung up Claire had realised she could not drive that night after the few glasses of wine she had drunk with her dinner, but somehow there was no way she could bring herself to tell Mike that. She pressed the disconnect button on her phone then immediately dialled the number of a local taxi firm.

  Suddenly she felt consumed with guilt. Just at the time that Mike had needed her most she had been out enjoying herself with another man, and while Mike’s son had been lying there in the accident and emergency department of the local hospital, awaiting a scan, she had been here on her sofa in Dominic’s arms. What sort of a two-timing woman did that make her, for heaven’s sake? Mike didn’t deserve this, she told herself severely. He had only ever treated her with kindness and here she was betraying him in the worst possible way—behind his back, and with a colleague at that, which somehow only seemed to make the whole thing even worse.

  By the time she had changed out of her little black dress and into jeans, a sweater and a pair of loafers, she had made up her mind to tell Dominic once and for all that it was over between them, that what had happened had been a dreadful mistake and that there could be nothing further in the future. If he chose to remain at the Hargreaves Centre it was his own business, just as long as he understood there could never be anything between them ever again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WHERE have you been? I’ve been waiting ages!’ Emma, eyes red-rimmed, stood with her hands on her hips in the doorway of her friend’s house and confronted Claire.

  ‘I wasn’t in when your father called,’ Claire explained patiently. ‘I’ve only just found out.’

  ‘But where were you?’ demanded Emma.

  ‘I rather think that is my business,’ said Claire, then as the girl’s face flushed she went on calmly, ‘But I’m here now and there’s a taxi waiting so let’s not waste any more time.’

  Emma maintained a sulky silence for the best part of the journey to the hospital but when they were nearly there she threw Claire a sidelong, apprehensive glance. ‘Do you know how bad Stephen is?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ Claire shook her head. ‘Your dad simply said they were waiting for a scan to see if any damage had been done.’

  ‘He’ll probably be all right,’ said Emma, but she didn’t sound too sure. ‘He’s always doing silly things and hurting himself. Is my mum there?’ she asked as a sudden afterthought.

  ‘Yes, I believe so,’ Claire replied. ‘I understand she was watching the match with your dad.’

  ‘Good.’ Emma nodded then turned her head and gazed out of the car window as they passed a brightly lit shopping mall.

  On their arrival at the accident and emergency department of the large county hospital a nurse directed Claire and Emma to the relatives’ room where Mike met them. In the room behind him Claire caught a glimpse of Jan who, on seeing Claire, turned away.

  ‘Dad!’ Emma hurled herself at her father. ‘How’s Stephen?’ she demanded.

  ‘They’ve taken him for a scan now,’ Mike replied. With his rather crumpled clothes and his hair sticking out at odd angles, he looked even more harassed than usual, which in the circumstances was wholly understandable. Claire’s heart went out to him and she longed to give him a comforting hug but something stopped her.

  ‘I want to stay with you and Mum,’ said Emma, pulling away from her father and looking past him into the relatives’ room.

  ‘Really, you know, it would have been better if you’d stayed with Claire for the night,’ said Mike. He spoke in an absent-minded, distracted fashion.

  ‘No!’ said Emma. ‘I don’t want to go with her.’

  ‘Emma, that’s very rude,’ said Mike, drawing himself up with a start. ‘Claire has been good enough to bring you up here—apologise to her this minute.’

  ‘It’s OK, Mike,’ Claire began uneasily. She was becoming ever more aware of Jan’s uncompromising back.

  ‘No,’ said Mike firmly, ‘it isn’t OK. Emma…?’

  ‘Sorry,’ mumbled Emma, without looking at Claire. ‘But I do want to stay here.’

  ‘All right,’ sighed Mike with the air of a man who knew he was beaten. ‘Go inside with your mother. I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to have a word with Claire.’

  Emma disappeared inside the relatives’ room and as Jan turned to her daughter Mike shut the door. ‘They are very upset,’ he said apologetically.

  ‘Of course they are,’ said Claire. ‘How is it looking, Mike?’ she added.

  ‘Not good.’ He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down. ‘I fear there’s some damage to his spinal cord.’

  ‘Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry.’ Gently Claire touched his arm.

  ‘We won’t know for sure until all the tests are complete, but he was in a nasty collision with another lad.’

  ‘Is there anything else I can do?’ asked Claire.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Mike replied. ‘Thanks for bringing Emma up. I had a feeling she would want to be here with us.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’ she asked.

  ‘Well…’ His eyes flickered to the closed door of the relatives’ room. ‘It’s a bit awkward…’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I know. It’s all right, Mike, I do understand and it’s only right that Jan should be here with you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, but somehow he seemed unable to meet her gaze.

  ‘In that case,’ she said, ‘I may as we
ll go.’

  ‘I’ll phone you in the morning.’ Briefly Mike touched her arm.

  ‘Yes, do, please,’ she said as he walked to the entrance with her. ‘Let me know what is happening.’

  By the time Claire had walked across to the waiting taxi Mike had turned back into the hospital foyer and when she glanced back it was to find that he had disappeared.

  In spite of the fact that she was exhausted, she barely slept a wink that night as the events of the evening circulated round and round in her brain, and the following morning she staggered in to work hollow-eyed and feeling slightly disorientated.

  Under normal circumstances she might have questioned the atmosphere she encountered amongst the girls in Reception that morning—one of frosty, barely concealed hostility. Because of the way she was feeling, however, she let it pass, imagining some squabble over shifts or overtime to be responsible rather than anything directly involving her.

  It was Dr Susan Bridges’s day off and Claire was to use her consulting room for her morning of counselling. In a way she was thankful it was a counselling day because that meant little or no contact with Dominic, and in view of the events of the previous evening she was rather glad of that. She would have to face him sooner or later, she knew, but not yet, she told herself wearily.

  She was about to press the buzzer for her first patient of the day when her phone rang. It was Sara. ‘Claire,’ she said, ‘I have Dr Naylor on the line for you.’

  Once again Claire noticed coolness in the receptionist’s tone but she had no time to reflect on it further or to question it because almost immediately Mike’s voice came on the line.

  ‘Claire…?’ he said.

  ‘Yes. Mike, hello. How is Stephen?’

  ‘He’s fractured a vertebra in his neck,’ he replied briefly. ‘We’re going to be staying here with him for the time being,’ he added, ‘because we don’t yet know if there is any further damage to his spine. I’ve spoken to Richard,’ he went on, giving her no opportunity to comment, ‘and he’s going to divide my surgeries amongst the partners for the next couple of days.’