‘What about me?’ she said quickly, wondering to what he was referring.
‘Don’t you think you would like having babies?’
‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘I knew first and foremost I wanted to be a doctor and I guess that took precedence.’
‘You can have both these days,’ he observed.
‘You sound like my mother.’ Adele wrinkled her nose. ‘She’s always going on about the fact that being a doctor shouldn’t automatically bar me from settling down and having a family, thus presenting her with more grandchildren, of course.’
‘And I guess that could well have happened if everything had gone according to plan with Nigel,’ said Casey quietly.
‘What?’ She looked up sharply, slightly shocked at the sound of Nigel’s name on Casey’s lips. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said slowly, remembering that he knew about Nigel because it had been her who had told him. ‘Yes, I guess so. I think my mother thought Nigel was a highly suitable prospective son-in-law. Just shows how wrong she was, doesn’t it?’ she added. There was a hint of bitterness in her tone but to her surprise not as much as there once had been. Maybe she was becoming immune to the pain she’d once felt whenever she’d thought of Nigel.
Fortified by this thought, she took another sip of brandy. Looking across at Casey, she said, ‘How about you? Does your mother go on at you to settle down again and have a family?’
He didn’t answer and abruptly Adele set her glass down. ‘Oh, heavens,’ she said, ‘I’ve done it again. Your mother isn’t alive, is she?’
‘No, as it happens, she isn’t,’ he admitted, then as her expression changed, he said, ‘But don’t go apologising again. It happened a long time ago, when I was in my early teens, in fact.’
‘So what happened to you afterwards? Did your father bring you up?’
‘My parents had divorced but, yes, after my mother died my brother and I went to live with our father. We lived in a very tough neighbourhood and most of the time we lived by our wits.’
‘So when did you decide you wanted to be a doctor?’ Suddenly Adele was curious. As she knew only too well, it took time, money and dedication to become a doctor and it didn’t sound as if Casey’s background was indicative of any of these.
‘It had been my mother’s dream that I should become a doctor and that my brother should study law. For a long time I simply wasn’t interested—it all seemed too much like hard work and I was far happier hanging out with a local gang and getting up to Lord knows what rather than applying myself to study. The school I attended wasn’t much use either and there was no real encouragement to try to better myself.’
‘So what changed?’ asked Adele.
‘Ironically it was my mother’s death that did it. She was only in her thirties. It was breast cancer—they didn’t have the facilities or resources that they do today and she died within a year.’ He paused and stared down into his glass. ‘It gutted me, I don’t mind telling you,’ he went on after a while. ‘I was rebellious, I didn’t want to go and live with my dad, didn’t want to leave my mates. I even said I didn’t want to leave the school I was going to, even though I hated it, but the alternative would have been going into care, and I didn’t want that either, so in the end I didn’t really have a lot of choice.’
‘So was it not as bad as you thought in the end?’
‘Oh, it was tough, make no mistake about that—a father I hardly knew, a stepmother I viewed with distrust and a new school where I was viewed with distrust because I was an outsider. As you can imagine, it wasn’t exactly a picnic.’
‘So what happened?’ She was intensely curious now. ‘How did you get from that to where you are today as a partner in a firm of GPs in a county market town?’
He allowed that rare smile to touch his features as he considered his reply. ‘Two things,’ he said. ‘A teacher began to take an interest in me and led me to believe that if I wanted something enough I could have it.’
‘And the second?’ she asked quietly, somehow knowing what was coming.
‘I suppose if I’m honest,’ he said, ‘I knew deep down that I could do it and I decided I owed it to my mum to do so.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘SHE would have been proud of you,’ said Adele softly.
‘I hope so.’ Casey took another mouthful of his drink and stared into the fire as if lost in memories from his past. To Adele he suddenly looked vulnerable, not a bit like the tough-guy image she had come to associate with Casey, and she had to fight an urge to sink down onto her knees beside him and put her arms around him.
Instead, as the urge subsided, gently she said, ‘And what about your family now?’
‘How do you mean?’ He raised his head and looked at her.
‘Well, your father—where is he?’
‘He’s in a residential home—I visit him when I can.’
‘And his wife?’
‘The marriage didn’t last.’ His reply was brief, abrupt almost, and Adele sensed this was an area he didn’t want to talk about.
‘And what about your brother—did he study law?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Casey softly, peering into his glass as he spoke, ‘he studied law.’
‘So your mum would have been proud of him as well.’
‘Well, that’s debatable.’ He looked up and his gaze met Adele’s. ‘The way he studied the law ended up with a spell in prison.’
‘Oh, dear.’ She paused. ‘And now?’
‘We’ve rather lost touch but it would never surprise me to hear he’s back behind bars.’
Adele remained silent for a while because there really didn’t seem any more to say on the subject. In the end it was Casey who broke the silence.
‘Are you feeling better?’ he asked.
‘Yes, much, thank you. In fact, I really should think about going…’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I’m sure you have things to do, and I, well, I—’
‘Are you warm?’ he asked interrupting her.
‘Yes.’
‘And comfortable?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Then stay awhile. There’s no need to rush off.’
‘All right,’ she said weakly. She knew she should go really. She had things to do. On the other hand, what she’d just told Casey was true—she was warm and comfortable sitting there on his sofa in front of the fire, sipping brandy and talking about their families, their lives. But there was more than that. There was the lingering memory of how it had been when his arms had gone around her and she’d felt safe and protected. And maybe that was the most telling reason why she should go. It had felt good in his arms but she had had no right to feel that way any more than she’d had any right to be there in the first place. No, there really were no two ways about it—she should go.
But still she sat there, relaxed and contented, as it grew darker outside, the rain lashed against the windows and the wind howled in the chimney.
‘The girl,’ she said at last. ‘Was she one of our patients?’
Casey shook his head. ‘No, she wasn’t registered here. And I have to say I’m relieved about that. Probably at this very moment some other poor GP is having to deal with hysterical parents.’
‘I don’t know how people recover from something like that,’ said Adele slowly.
‘I don’t think people ever do fully recover from the death of a child,’ he replied. ‘I guess they simply learn to live with the pain.’ He paused. ‘I never knew my daughter,’ he went on after a moment, ‘but when she was born, I saw her and held her and I can honestly say I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t think about her…’ He shook his head and as Adele caught the glint of unshed tears in his eyes she had the distinct impression that this was the first time that he’d spoken like this to anyone and once again she had to fight the urge to put her arms around him.
‘But this…’ he went on after a moment, ‘this is different. To lose a child in this terrible way as the result of violen
ce…well, that’s something else…’ He gave a gesture of hopelessness that implied the whole thing would be beyond him. Then, in an obvious attempt to change the subject and at the same time supposedly to regain his composure, he hauled himself to his feet. ‘Let me make you some coffee,’ he said.
‘No, really.’ Adele also rose to her feet. ‘I must be going. I have things to do before tomorrow. Why…’ She managed a weak smile. ‘Before I know where I am it’ll be time for morning surgery and I shall be behind that desk again.’
She began to make her way to the door but somehow he got there before her and stood there barring her way.
She looked up at him, trying to read the expression in his eyes as he looked steadily back at her, but found it impossible. All she knew was that she’d seen the expression before on several occasions but most notably at the moment when they’d first met.
‘Casey…?’ she said softly, and all she could think of then was that the last time she had been this close to him he had put his arms around her and held her, and quite suddenly she knew that was exactly what she wanted to happen again. She found herself carefully scrutinising his face, from those dark, brooding eyes, the rugged features and the scar to the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw.
‘Casey…?’ she whispered again. As she became aware of some battle that seemed to be raging behind his eyes she reached out her hand and with the tips of her fingers gently traced the line of the scar all the way from where it divided his eyebrow down the side of his face to where it ended at the corner of his jawbone. ‘Tell me,’ she said, about to ask him how he had come by such a scar, but that was as far as she got for with a sound that could quite easily have been a groan, and for the second time that evening, he put his arms around her.
It felt the same, just as good, safe, warm and comforting as before. The smell of him was the same, a slightly woody smell, and he felt the same, the same hard muscular body through the fabric of his sweatshirt. But that was where the similarities ended, for on the previous occasion his motive had presumably been simply to console, to comfort. This time there was urgency, almost a roughness about the way his arms tightened around her, which touched a chord somewhere deep inside and she found herself spontaneously lifting her face to his.
His kiss was hard and firm and so full of passion it took Adele’s breath away, leaving her gasping and at first yearning for more. Then, as his hands became entangled in her hair and his kiss grew deeper and more demanding, she felt shocked at her own response.
In the end it was she who drew away. ‘Casey,’ she murmured. ‘We mustn’t…’
He appeared not to hear her at first as if so driven by passion and desire that he was oblivious to any sort of reason, and it was only when she put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away from her that he appeared to return to his senses.
‘What…?’ He stared at her, confusion in his eyes as desire ebbed away.
‘I said…we mustn’t,’ she said shakily.
And then as it seemed to dawn on him for the first time what they had done he appeared to visibly shake himself. ‘No,’ he said abruptly, ‘no, of course not. I’m sorry, Adele. That shouldn’t have happened.’
‘It’s all right.’ She attempted to straighten her hair, to push it back from her face. ‘I really think I should go.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Casey stood aside, running a hand over his own short dark hair, the gesture helpless and yet at the same time somehow boyish.
‘I…I’ll see you in the morning,’ said Adele, her voice husky, not like her voice at all. He nodded, seeming now to be incapable of speech. Putting her head down, suddenly unable to face what might be in his eyes, she tugged open the door and fled out of his flat and up the stairs.
Mercifully there was no sign of Penny. Adele really didn’t think she could have coped if she’d met her on the landing and been forced to answer questions about where she and Casey had been. Once in her own flat she ran a bath, added a generous amount of bath foam and, peeling off her clothes, stepped into the comforting warmth of the water.
She was still in a state of turmoil over what had happened between herself and Casey and it was a turmoil that was to last for the rest of the evening, long after she’d had her bath, prepared supper—only to find that she had lost her appetite—watched some television, without being able to say what she had seen, then finally taken herself off to bed. What had happened had been a shock and yet, on the other hand, there had been a sort of inevitability about it—almost as if, now that she looked back on it, both of them had somehow been waiting for it to happen and that it had only been a matter of time before it had.
But it had been wrong. They both knew that and there was no telling where it might have ended, although Adele had a pretty shrewd suspicion. She had protested, not because she didn’t find him attractive but because of his involvement with Penny, and Casey himself had said it shouldn’t have happened.
So why had he let it happen? If he had restrained himself she wouldn’t now be feeling as wretched as she did. Was it quite simply that all men were the same and when it came to restraint they were incapable, or to fidelity where they thought that if no one found out it didn’t matter? That had happened with Nigel. He had thought as long as Adele and Lucinda didn’t find out about each other no one would get hurt. He had calmly assumed he could have his cake and eat it as well. Was that what Casey thought, too?
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. All Adele knew was that he wasn’t going to get the chance to find out. She finally fell asleep that night after firmly resolving to ignore the powerful emotions he had stirred in her, emotions all the more disturbing because they had surfaced so abruptly after recently having lain dormant. But more disquieting than all of that, and uppermost in her mind before sleep claimed her, was the fact that the emotions and desires evoked by Casey made a pale shadow out of what she’d felt for Nigel.
The following morning found Adele very apprehensive about taking surgery with Casey but in the end she need have had no such worries for he acted as if nothing had happened between them, bidding her good morning and taking his place slightly behind her in his consulting room as Lizzie brought in the bundle of patient records and placed them on the desk.
She, however, was acutely aware of him—the sight of him in the casual chinos and sweater that he invariably chose to wear for surgery, his hair still damp from the shower, that woody smell that must be the aftershave he used and his very presence that seemed to fill the small room. In spite of her strong resolutions of the night before, she found herself longing for him to take her into his arms again just as he had then, for those strong hands resting now on the computer keyboard to touch her and for his mouth to take control of hers…
But, of course, he did nothing of the sort—that would never happen again.
‘Good morning, Doctor.’
Shaken from her reverie, Adele looked up sharply at the woman who had just come into the room and who was lowering herself gingerly onto the chair.
‘Good morning…Mrs…er…Mrs Bletchford. How can I help you?’
‘Well, Doctor, I keep getting this funny pain…’
Within minutes Adele was drawn into the complexities of yet another daily surgery, but in spite of the fact that she was required to use every ounce of her concentration she remained only too aware of the presence of the man at her side.
As the surgery wore on she found herself wondering what Casey would say when the surgery ended and they were alone. Would he make any reference to what had happened between them, would he maybe attempt to apologise or explain his actions? But she was destined never to know because as she was printing out a prescription for the morning’s last patient a telephone call came through. Handing the patient the prescription and bidding him goodbye, Adele lifted the receiver, noting as she did so that it was an internal call.
‘Adele—it’s Penny. We have a lady in the clinic—Marion Kendry—whom I’m very concerned about. She has a history of heart
problems. She came in for a routine ECG but she’s complaining of feeling unwell. She’s Casey’s patient—is he there?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Can you ask him to come along to the clinic, please?’
‘Of course.’ Adele looked at the receiver as Penny cut her short and hung up.
‘What is it?’ Casey raised his eyebrows. The one bisected by the scar looked ruffled and suddenly, irrationally, she longed to touch it, to smooth it as she had before. But even if that was permitted, which now quite obviously it wasn’t, there were other, more pressing matters to attend to.
‘Penny wants you in the clinic,’ she said. ‘A patient of yours, Marion Kendry…?’
Casey nodded. ‘Yes, what about her?’
‘She’s feeling unwell. Penny is worried about her in view of her heart problems.’
‘Well, you’d better get along there, then, hadn’t you?’
‘Me?’ Adele looked startled. ‘But Penny asked for you.’
‘I was under the impression that you were attending to my patients this morning.’ His reply was calm, unruffled.
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘You’d better hurry up—you don’t want a fatality on your hands, do you?’
‘Heavens, no!’ Adele leapt to her feet and without a backward glance hurried from the room, leaving Casey stretched out in his chair with his hands linked behind his head as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
She dashed through Reception, ignoring the startled glances of the receptionists behind the desk, past the waiting room then down the passage to one of the surgery’s two treatment rooms where the nurses held their clinics. Not even pausing to knock, she flung open the door and hurried inside, letting the door swing shut behind her.
A woman was lying on the examination couch and Penny was checking her blood pressure. Penny’s anxious gaze met Adele’s then flickered past her towards the door.
‘Where’s Casey?’ Penny demanded.
‘He said for me to assess—’
Police Doctor Page 9
