He hadn’t slept much last night, and more than once he’d gone to the door of his bedroom, ready to march along the hallway, gather her up and bring her back. Plead with her—beg her, even—or make love to her until she changed her mind. But each time the futility of such a course of action had stopped him. She didn’t want him.
She clearly didn’t believe him when he went out early on Saturday morning, with the excuse of having to go to work. Unable to set his mind to anything, he wandered the busy streets, fed the ducks in Hyde Park and dropped in to one of his favourite restaurants for a solitary meal. By the time he got back, late in the afternoon, she had packed hers and Isaac’s things and explained to the boy that they were going back home.
Then it was time for them to leave. They somehow managed to stay civil with each other, for Isaac’s sake, but they were like actors in a soap opera. As soon as the cameras stopped rolling the smiles fell from their faces and there was no emotion, no more to say. Nothing.
He loaded up his car with their bags and they made the short drive to Charlotte’s house in silence. She opened the front door and Isaac ran inside, but it seemed from the way that she blocked the doorway that Edward wasn’t welcome. He put her bags down on the doorstep and went back to the car to fetch the rest of them.
She called for Isaac and turned towards Edward. ‘Thank you. I’m so grateful for everything that you’ve done for us.’
Yeah, right. And she was showing him just how grateful she was by leaving. Blocking her own doorway as if he was one of the people that he’d protected her from. The words were on the tip of his tongue when he saw a tear, perched in the corner of her eye and ready to fall.
‘If there’s anything else you need...’
There was no point in even saying it. They’d lost their opportunity of being friends. He’d blown it—hadn’t paid enough attention to the woman he’d thought might be the saving of him—and now they had to part. Better now than some time down the line.
She nodded. ‘Say thank you to Edward, Isaac.’
He almost couldn’t bear this. Charlotte’s cold determination was one thing, but Isaac seemed genuinely sad at their parting. He dropped to one knee and the boy flung his arms around his neck.
‘Thank you, Edward. I’ve had a good time.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Can we come back to see you again?’ Isaac turned his questioning gaze up to Edward.
‘Yes, of course. Any time you like. But I’m going to be working hard for the next few weeks. We might not see each other for a little while.’ Isaac would probably forget all about him in the space of those weeks. He wouldn’t make this more difficult for Charlotte than he had to.
Isaac nodded. ‘Okay.’
His trusting acceptance of the lie almost made Edward choke, and he hung for dear life onto the thought that at all costs the child should be protected from the mistakes of his elders.
‘Thank you.’ Charlotte’s face was flushed and she was a moment away from tears.
He should go. Her tears didn’t make any difference, and the tearing pain in his chest didn’t either. Whatever he felt, whatever he did, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t have it in him to give any more, and more was exactly what she deserved.
‘Take care, Charlotte.’ He turned on his heel and walked down the front path without looking back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHARLOTTE HAD BEEN dreading returning to work, but it seemed that Edward had dropped out of the life of the Hunter Clinic almost as effectively as he’d dropped out of her own. Even when he was there she wasn’t part of his patient care team, and she wondered whether he’d had a quiet word with someone to make that happen.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to look for another job. It was going to be awkward, being faced with the possibility of seeing Edward day in and day out. Particularly since this feeling didn’t show any signs of going away. If she had to grieve the loss of the man she’d hoped might be everything to her, then she’d rather do it in private.
She made a few calls and managed to get Friday off. She presented herself at an employment agency at nine o’clock that morning, and by ten she’d been interviewed, the consultant had reviewed her CV, and had promised that she’d be able to find her another job easily.
It was the first step. The next step was to go and see Edward’s father, explain the situation to him and ask whether he’d take payment for all that he’d done. It might take a while, but she’d pay that debt off even if she couldn’t pay the one she owed to Edward.
When she called his office, his secretary said that he was out all day and took a message. On to step three. She hurried home, changed into an old pair of jeans and T-shirt, and went up to Isaac’s room. He’d been so good this week, obviously missing the extra space to play and Edward’s large, widescreen TV, but he hadn’t complained. Isaac was playing with a friend this evening and she wouldn’t be picking him up until eight. She had plenty of time to finish off the little treat she had planned for him.
She surveyed the blank wall opposite Isaac’s bed. It wasn’t Edward’s garden or his TV that Isaac missed. Her son was feeling the same way that she was. He missed Edward. The way he played with him, the way they laughed at the same jokes, how he’d been there for him when things got tough.
‘Stop it.’ She admonished herself as harshly as she could. Every spare moment she’d had for the last week, whenever she’d been alone, she’d spent the time crying. It was time for her to face facts and get on with it. She’d gone into this with her eyes open, knowing full well that a quiet guy with things to hide was going to cause her pain. Now she’d just got what she had asked for.
She looked at her watch. Eight hours before she had to go and pick Isaac up this evening. She’d better get moving. She hurried to her bedroom and pulled the box of paints and the carefully cut stencils out from under the bed. Time to get to work.
* * *
Edward didn’t need to think too hard about what he was about to do. He’d already thought it to death, and the one thing he needed to do now was to act. His diary was clear for the day, and he’d hoped that he could make some progress on the research paper that he was writing, but when he’d heard that Charlotte had taken the day off he’d grasped his opportunity.
When he drew up outside her house he noticed that the front window was open. She must be home. He knew that she wouldn’t go out without locking the place up securely.
He pressed the doorbell. Flipped the letterbox open and heard the sound of music coming from somewhere. Looking upwards, he thought he saw some movement behind the thick muslin curtains that shaded what must be her bedroom.
‘Charlotte...’ He called through the letterbox and waited.
Nothing. The music seemed to have stopped and the house was quiet. He slipped the package he’d brought through the letterbox. That was hers, and if she wouldn’t let him in he could at least make sure she got it.
The first part of his plan was achieved. The second would be a little more difficult. He straightened up, wondering whether he should go and wait in his car. She had to come out sooner or later.
His gaze lit on a small arched alleyway which ran between Charlotte’s house and next door’s, giving access to the back gardens. At the far end were two gates, the one on Charlotte’s side slightly ajar.
The gate opened into a small, neat garden. There was washing on the line, and when Edward twisted the handle of the back door it opened.
‘Charlotte?’ He poked his head inside and called to her, not wanting to frighten her. ‘Charlotte, it’s Edward.’
‘Go away. Please.’ Her voice sounded strained and insistent.
Maybe she was upstairs with someone. Another man, perhaps. Edward shook his head. He knew her better than that.
‘Charlotte, I want to speak to you.’
&n
bsp; Silence.
‘I’m coming upstairs, Charlotte.’ He called up the stairs and in the absence of an answer kept walking. He could hear the muffled sounds of movement now, coming from the bedroom at the back of the house.
The door was closed and he knocked, left it a moment and then twisted the handle. The first thing he saw was the plastic taped onto the carpet along one wall. There were pots of paint on the floor, and the start of what looked like a mural on the wall—a giraffe which grinned towards the bed. Then his heart lurched. Charlotte was sitting cross-legged on the floor, in the corner of the room, crying.
‘Charlotte. Please don’t cry. I only want to talk to you.’ He knelt in front of her, afraid to touch her.
She raised her face towards him. Stained with tears and flushed with defiance. ‘So much that you broke into my house to do it?’
‘Well, technically I didn’t break in. The back door was open.’
‘Edward!’ Her cheeks bloomed a shade redder and she jumped to her feet, almost knocking him backwards. ‘It doesn’t matter. I want you to go.’
He stood slowly. He needed a moment to debate what to do next, but she wasn’t going to give it to him.
‘Just go!’ Her outstretched arm pointed the way for him.
‘No.’
‘I could call the police. You told me that.’
‘Fair enough. It’s your right to do that. But I’m asking you not to.’
‘Why should I listen? You’re not listening to what I’m saying.’
‘Because I love you, Charlotte.’ He’d blurted the words out without thinking. He stepped forward until he was almost touching her, but his head was cool now. ‘I love you.’
‘Don’t!’ She dissolved into tears, sobs racking her body. ‘Stop it...’
‘Can’t do that.’ He had to go through with it now, because after this he sure as hell wasn’t going to get another chance. ‘Won’t do it.’
‘I can’t trust you, Edward.’
‘You mean you can’t trust anyone. You just can’t let go, can you? You might just as well still be married to that husband of yours.’
One sharp intake of breath and she raised her hand and slapped him. Edward had never been slapped by a woman before, and he’d underestimated how much it would sting.
‘That might be construed as assault.’
Her hand had flown to her mouth in horror at what she’d done, but she still wouldn’t back down. ‘You’re in my space. I’m just defending myself...’
‘I know. You don’t need to, Charlotte.’
‘What do you know about it?’ She pushed him away. ‘He did nothing but lie to me—all the time. He told me that he was working when he was out spending every last penny, putting us in debt. He had a mistress and I never even knew about it until their child was three years old...’ Tears were beginning to streak her face.
‘And you gave him the benefit of the doubt and believed him.’
‘Yes. And I’m never going to do that again...’
‘Then we’re done, Charlotte.’
Edward had never seen himself as a gambler. He weighed up the chances, took the safest route. He’d never before staked everything on one precarious throw of the dice.
Her nerve broke first. ‘All right, then. So where were you that night when you didn’t come home until two in the morning? Don’t tell me you were at the hospital, because I know you weren’t.’
‘How do you know that?’ The old guilt pushed back into his heart. Why did no one ever seem to understand that he needed to be alone sometimes?
‘Because I phoned there. You left at nine and said you were going home.’
‘I had some work to do at the clinic and I popped in there...’ Edward shook his head. This was never going to work on lies. However much he was ashamed of the truth, it was that or nothing now.
He’d had a taste of nothing, and he didn’t want to go back to it.
‘I went to the clinic and took a swim. Then I went out for something to eat and...just walked for a while. Sometimes I need to regroup.’
She stared at him. ‘What’s so bad about that? That you couldn’t just tell me?’
Suddenly the room seemed too small. Even with the windows open the pressure of their emotions was intolerable. But he couldn’t leave. Mustn’t leave. If he did that then he would only prove that he couldn’t fight for her.
He took a deep breath. He’d start from the beginning and he’d get it right this time. ‘When Kathy left me she said I was emotionally unavailable. That’s stayed with me, and I let you go because I didn’t believe that I had any right to ask you to stay. I was never sure that I could give you and Isaac the commitment that you both need.’
She opened her mouth to protest and he brushed his finger across her lips.
‘Please. I have to say this. I’m older now, and a bit wiser. I know that I can change, and it’s time for me to do just that if I’ve got any hope of you taking me back.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘No. Oh, no. You don’t need to change. Edward, I see right through you. You have feelings and emotions just like the rest of us. You just need to say what they are—not hide them away in case someone doesn’t understand you.’
‘I think...that’s one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.’ She’d said a lot of nice things, and he couldn’t be sure.
‘What? That you have feelings...?’
‘No, that you see right through me. If you do, then you’ll know how much I love you. How happy you make me. That I’ll never let you down.’
* * *
She stared at him. This was everything she’d ever wanted. All she had to do was take it.
‘You have to trust me, Charlotte. You told me once that I could learn. So can you.’
‘I...I’m not such a quick study as you... I’m going to be rubbish at this.’
‘Fair enough. We can both be rubbish together. Do you believe that I can give you my heart? And that it’ll be enough for you and Isaac?’
It felt as if she was making a solemn vow. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Well, then it follows that you must trust me.’
She took hold of the end of his tie. Tugged a little. He moved closer. ‘We’re two sides of a coin, aren’t we? Very different.’
‘Yeah, but it’s the same coin.’
‘Back to back?’
That smile that Charlotte loved so much. Sexy, thoughtful, provocative.
‘I prefer face to face.’ His hands moved to her waist, and she melted into his warmth. ‘Although...’
She stopped him with a look. There was time to talk sex later. This was more important and she couldn’t wait any longer to say it. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you, too, Charlotte.’ He glanced around, as if looking for some way to prove it. ‘I love you so much that I’ll help you finish that mural for Isaac. Even though I’m wearing an Italian silk suit.
‘You could go home and change.’ But suddenly she didn’t want him to go anywhere.
‘I won’t get that twenty minutes back again.’
She was going to have to get used to feeling this happy. At the moment it was too heady, and she could hardly breathe. ‘I could come with you.’
He nodded. ‘That’s a great start.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘WHEN DO YOU need to pick Isaac up?’ He was carefully putting the finishing touches to his part of the mural.
‘Not for another couple of hours. He’s gone to play at a friend’s house. I have to pick him up at eight.’
‘I’ll take you, if that’s okay. I’ve missed the little guy.’
‘Of course it’s okay.’ A thought occurred to Charlotte. ‘I always wondered...’
‘Yeah?’
�
��Why do you have a child’s seat in your car?’
He chuckled. ‘I got it for when my sister and her little girl came to stay with my parents. She only used it once. I was going to take it out of the car that weekend, but then it came in handy for Isaac.’ He paused, his hand hovering over the last delicate part of a lion’s eye. ‘What? You thought that I had a child tucked away somewhere?’
‘No, not really. I just didn’t know. Was it okay for me to ask?’
He chuckled. ‘Yep. And, in the interests of complete transparency, there’s something I need to know too.’
‘Fire away.’
‘Why does Isaac call that blue rabbit of his Stinky?’
‘Ah. The blue rabbit. I seem to remember he was the one that started everything...’
‘That’s why I feel such an attachment to him.’
‘Well, he was originally called Rabbit.’ She grinned at him. ‘For obvious reasons. Then Isaac threw him into the pond at the park, and when I’d fished him out again I told Isaac he’d need a good wash because he was really stinky.’
‘Ah. Makes me feel so much better to know that there’s a logic behind it.’
She laughed. ‘Anything else you need to know?’
‘Not at the moment. You’ve got paint on your nose.’ He closed the distance between them and swiped at her nose with his finger.
‘Better?’
‘Not really. I just seem to have smudged it.’ He grinned, looping his arms around her waist. In the last few hours all the barriers between them seemed to have disappeared. At some point, while they were painting the bright, colourful mural, all the promises they’d made, the honesty and the trust, had turned from just words into reality.
‘Do you think he’ll like it?’
‘Well, I like it.’ Edward grinned. ‘I think he’ll love it. The monkey’s great.’
‘And your lion. He looks a bit like you.’ She pulled at one of the dark spikes of hair that had fallen across Edward’s forehead, which mirrored the slightly rakish look of his lion’s mane.
200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon Page 17
