He clicked his phone shut. ‘Accident in the docks,’ he said. ‘Two men caught between the dockside and their ship, bodies partly crushed. I’ve got to go. It sounds like a long job.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No. I might call out Morag but you’ll be needed to hold the fort here tomorrow.’
‘Do you want to go next door and pick up a medical kit?’
But even as she asked, she knew the answer. ‘No. There’s one in the car, I never drive anywhere without it. Alice, this is the worst ending to the evening. I was enjoying myself so much and things were going so well between us.’
‘Off you go,’ she said. ‘Shall I phone Mrs McCann to say you’re going to be late?’
‘Thanks, that would be a good idea.’
She could tell how torn he was—which meant that he felt the same as she did. ‘Don’t worry. You can come again some time—some time soon. Now, let’s get you off.’
She accompanied him down to the front door, thinking that their evening was over. Certainly she wasn’t expecting what happened next.
He kissed her. Not a friendly kiss or the dutiful kiss from a guest to a host but a real kiss. For a moment she was wrapped up in the wonder of it and when he let her go she stared up at him as if dazed. Feelings only vaguely remembered came crashing back. He used to kiss her like that and she…
Slowly, sadly, he took his lips from hers but still held her. ‘It may not be much,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Perhaps I can come back and have coffee.’
She pushed him away gently. ‘Don’t hope, don’t even think about it,’ she said. ‘If it’s possible then I’d love you to…but you’re a doctor, you know what’s going to happen.’
For a moment she thought he was going to add something. But instead he just nodded. ‘True.’ Then he turned and was gone. Alice watched his car drive away and sighed.
She went back to her living room, looked at the remnants of their meal. They looked sad, deserted. This wasn’t the way this evening was meant to end, she thought. But end this way it had. Still…it hadn’t been a complete disaster. Or had it? It had restarted ideas, thoughts that had been only idly buzzing around in her head. And how had she wanted, expected the evening to end? She realised that she hadn’t even thought about that. She had thought about the beginning…but the rest she had never even contemplated.
What to do now? Well, she had cooked this meal—there was no way she was going not to enjoy it to its full. He wasn’t with her, she would imagine that he was. So she sat, ate the rest of her fruit salad. Then she went to percolate her expensive coffee, and while it was bubbling through the machine she picked out a CD and put it in her player. Another joke. It was a CD that they had enjoyed together all those years before.
She drank her coffee, it was good. The CD came to an end and she sighed. She already did know but…there was no way he was going to come back now.
She changed out of her blue party dress and started to clear away. As she did so her phone rang. Her heart started to pound. There were few people who knew her number, not many people would phone her, he might be… It was Sergeant Cullen. ‘Dr Cavendish asked me to phone you. Apparently we dragged him away while the two of you were checking some of your new equipment.’
Well, you could call it that, Alice thought. But she said, ‘No problem, Sergeant. We can do it again another time.’
‘Good. Well, his message is that we’re taking one of the injured men over to the mainland by boat. We don’t want the expense of a helicopter. The doctor wants to stay with the man. He’ll be back early tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ll see that his family is told. Thank you, Sergeant.’ She replaced the receiver and sighed. Well, it had been a vain hope.
Mechanically she put some dishes away, pushed others into the dishwasher. Simple domestic jobs stopped her thinking, she needed the discipline. But eventually her flat was as spotless as it had been when she’d first entered it and it was still not time for bed.
She had a shower, put on her nightgown. Another CD and a book? Then she remembered the champagne in the fridge. She’d have a last glass. There was no way she would go to sleep now. Not after the unfinished way the evening had ended. But there had been the kiss! It had been the kiss of a lover, she was sure. Certainly she had responded as a lover. Or had it just been the kiss of a man who had been angry at being interrupted in the middle of a pleasant evening? She didn’t know. Had the kiss been meant to tell her something or had it just been a kiss? She didn’t know.
So she sat, sipped her champagne and remembered the first time she had cooked that very same dish for Ben.
It had been after the school summer dance. Alice had felt beautiful, she’d had that inner glow that came from knowing she’d been wanted, the sole object of Ben’s desire. The evening had retained the summer heat, so she had worn a simple strapless summer dress. The gossamer, sea-coloured fabric had shown off her skin and revealed the tops of her breasts, tanned a light gold. Her mother had grown out of the dress and had been glad to see how lovely Alice had looked in it. She’d said, ‘You look like a sea nymph, all energy and big eyes.’
The dress had been perfect for the summer dance. He’d held her close all night, stroking the bare skin of her shoulders, lightly kissing her forehead and resting his head against hers. She had been so happy, filled with the renewed knowledge of her power over him. At the last dance, they’d clung tightly to each other, Alice breathing in the warm smell of his body, revelling in being held in his arms. She’d nestled under his chin, sensing the echo of his voice as her head had rested against his chest. She had been living just for the sensations of the moment, no thought about future or past, no worries or cares.
That had been then. She smiled to remember the carefree girl she had been. Ben too had been an innocent, a boy, sincere and honest and full of desire for her. Not like Sean…
They set off back to Alice’s house. Earlier she’d prepared a supper for him and left it ready, knowing they’d be starving after the dance. Her parents were away, and Alice wanted Ben to admire the first proper meal she’d cooked for him. Then she meant to send him home, after they’d kissed and perhaps explored each other a little. Just playing as usual, nothing really serious. She knew they would stop before doing anything she might regret.
She’d shied away from thinking about what Ben might really want to do, what part of her wanted him to do. But she was a good island girl. She knew too much would change too soon if they slept together now.
Now the adult Alice realised that the heightened emotions they’d felt that night had meant that what had followed had been inevitable.
The supper had been wonderful—just a casserole, one dish in case they were hungry when they came back from the dance. The idea had been to cook something simple, something she could pass off as being a dish she had hastily thrown together while preparing for the dance. In fact, she had spent hours scouring cookery books for a suitable recipe. Then there had been buying, or sending off for, the ingredients. She had spent as much time preparing this so-called simple dish as she had making herself ready for the dance. But it had been worth it. And they had drunk the bottle of wine he had brought.
Afterwards she sat by him on the couch, and he stroked the slopes of her breasts, the swell of her stomach. She wanted the ache, the fevered warmth that infused her skin to continue, wanted the urgent kisses he was showering on her. He was clumsy with need, almost hurting with his passion. She kissed him back, harder and more urgently than she’d thought she was capable of. She didn’t mind the roughness of his chin, loved the feeling of being carried away on a tide of feelings, the feel of unfamiliar skin-to-skin contact. She knew that she could stop him, knew that she might regret her decision, knew that she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
‘Ben, Ben, I want you,’ she said softly, somehow knowing that he needed her to say it was all right, needed her permission. She wriggled down the couch and pulled him
towards her. His body was rigid, trembling with the tension and excitement of this moment.
‘Alice,’ he said, ‘Alice, show me your bedroom.’
‘Why?’ She knew it was a stupid question.
‘I want to be able to imagine you in it when I’m alone and lonely in mine,’ he said. ‘But most of all I want to lie with you and tell you how you make me feel…’
So she showed him her bedroom.
He had obviously thought about this, he had precautions ready, she wouldn’t get pregnant. Knowing this made her love him more than ever. But then the first time was over so quickly. Afterwards Ben seemed a little guilty or ashamed, but mainly full of pride, satisfaction and most of all tender gratitude and wonderment at Alice.
She had wondered how she’d feel. Other girls had said that the first time usually wasn’t so good, but she had felt full of love, and had taken her pleasure in his pleasure. It didn’t seem to matter that she still felt that warm ache. She was happy, happy in the moment, wanted nothing except for this night to continue for ever.
She wanted to tell him that it had been amazing, that how she felt had been so special, that he had been everything she could have wanted of him, but she couldn’t find the words, was oddly shy with him.
He seemed to sense her doubts. ‘Alice, are you all right? What we’ve just done, it was so… I mean, are you…?’
‘Ben, it was what I wanted and you’ve made me so happy. Now lie here with me for a while longer.’
So they lay together. But after a while he reached for her with new confidence and what they did together then made the ache in her body grow and then explode in a cascade of feelings that she had never thought possible.
There was one last thing she remembered—perhaps the most important thing. They were lying side by side, holding hands. Still in awe of what they had just discovered. But there was something she had to say to him. She had—they both had—the teenage fear of putting anything into words.
‘Alice, that was so wonderful,’ he mumbled. ‘I was hoping but I didn’t think it would be anything like this, and now I know that I…’
She leaned over, put a finger over his lips. ‘We’re both young, Ben. We’ll have careers to follow soon, we’re not to make any stupid commitments that we could regret later.’
He took her finger in his hands, kissed it. ‘I was going to say that I loved you and that I wanted to—’
‘No! You’re not to say anything! What we have just had is to remain on its own and perfect. We’re to keep it and treasure it but we aren’t to talk about it. Now you can kiss me again if you want.’
So he hadn’t said any more. And whatever her feelings were for him, she had kept them quiet too. That had been so many years ago. And now she wished she had said something then—or allowed him to say something. Allowed him to say that he loved her. Of course, now, fifteen years later, he still could say that he loved her. If he wanted to.
Her eyelids were closing, too much emotion was tiring. She sipped the last of the champagne, cleaned her teeth and went to bed. But as she slipped into sleep one last thought crossed her mind. She had loved Ben fifteen years ago, though she had never said so. And now she was learning to love him again. She was asleep before she could take the thought further.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE thought was with her when she woke up next morning. She looked at the sunlight penetrating her curtains, heard the screaming of gulls. Common early morning experiences in summer. But why did they please her so much? Why did she feel so happy?
In fact, she felt the happiness before she worked out why. It had been her last thought the night before. That last minute realisation of something that should have been obvious much earlier. She was falling in love with Ben. Or falling in love with Ben again. Re-falling in love?
So what was she to do about it? Love wasn’t the reason she had come to Soalay, she had needed a refuge where she could find peace. Love didn’t bring peace. Especially if it wasn’t—as far as she could tell—returned.
She sighed as she climbed out of bed. At the moment there was nothing she could do. She would just have to wait and see. And work, of course.
That morning she held a clinic. Four pregnant women from town came in for routine checks. They were all in the last ten weeks of pregnancy and at that stage Alice liked to see her patients at least once a fortnight. And she told them that if ever there was any cause for alarm to phone her.
They were just routine checks. Blood pressure, pulse, urine sample. More important was to listen to the foetal heart, to palpate the abdomen to ensure that all was going well with the baby. And the constant vigilance to avoid pre-eclampsia—an over-high BP and oedema or swelling, especially of the legs.
What Alice thought was probably most important was the talk she had with the mother-to-be. She would ask about diet, plans for the birth, fears that the mother might have. And it was amazing what important details could come out in the middle of what seemed to be just a casual chat. The trouble was, she sometimes heard things she didn’t want to hear.
The first three mums were fine. Two of them remembered her—vaguely. Alice enjoyed talking to them, felt she was doing her job. The fourth, Merryl Snaith, was a bit different. She was an incomer from the mainland, had been left a house by an old relation and decided to move in. She was a single mother and a bit flash for Soalay. The other mothers-to-be were a bit wary of her. She seemed to wear a bit too much lipstick for a visit to the midwife.
‘I’ve been seeing Dr Cavendish up to now,’ Merryl told her. ‘I decided that if we didn’t have a proper midwife then I’d rather see a doctor than a nurse.’
‘Nurse Watson has probably dealt with far more pregnant women than Dr Cavendish.’
Alice knew her voice was chill, she couldn’t help it.But Merryl seemed neither to notice or to care. ‘Well, please, give the doctor my good wishes.’ A quick, alert look and then, ‘I heard that you’ve been staying with the doctor? Isn’t it a pity, him separating from his wife?’
Alice knew there was no possibility of keeping secrets on the island, little chance of stopping gossip.
‘I’m very fond of his little girl,’ she told Merryl. ‘I drop in at the house quite frequently to see her. Now, would you like to undress behind that screen and then lie on the couch?’
‘Whatever,’ said the disappointed Merryl.
But, still, she was happy with her morning’s work. She was doing what she liked, what she knew she was good at. And the Merryls of the world only made the other mums more appealing.
After she had finished her first set of examinations, her receptionist gave her a message. Could she phone Dr Cavendish, please? No panic, only when it was convenient. Alice knew when he tried to have his coffee-break so she rang him then. Of course, it would probably be something professional, perhaps someone he wanted to refer to her. Or perhaps he wanted to tell her about the excitement of the night before. Whatever it was, she could feel her heart beating faster and she knew that her cheeks were flushed. She loved talking to him! Still, she had to be professional!
‘All go well last night?’ she asked him. ‘I got your message from Sergeant Cullen.’
‘All went more or less well. I got to the harbour just in time, one man had a fractured femur and I had to reduce the fracture. Otherwise he could have lost the leg. But we got him to hospital in time and he should be OK. No one who has been drinking should go anywhere near a fishing boat banging against a harbour wall!’
‘Seems to be an obvious truth. But how are you?’
‘A bit tired but that’s part of a doctor’s life, we all know that. Now, I’ve got a problem. I don’t know if it’s a personal or a professional problem and whether it’s for you or for me. Mostly I think it’s an island problem—where everyone knows everyone else. It’s not strictly your work, but I could do with a hand.’
‘Whatever I can do, I will.’ She felt a small thrill. He thought there were things that she could do that he could not.
‘Right. Remember a girl called Ann Fairing? She was in your class at school.’
Alice thought back and after a moment did remember. ‘Yes. She was a small, quiet girl. She was never a particular friend of mine but we got on well enough. I think we liked each other. People used to call her Mouse because she was so quiet. But I’ve not seen her or heard of her for fifteen years.’
‘Well I’ve seen quite a bit of her. She’s now Mrs McCann, our Mrs McCann’s daughter-in-law. She came in earlier today, claiming she wasn’t sleeping, the tablets I’d prescribed weren’t strong enough. She wanted the tranquillisers that I wouldn’t give her, she was worried about her husband, who’s a soldier away in the Middle East.’
‘And she’s worried about her husband getting killed? Well, that’s fair enough.’
‘I don’t think she’s worried about him getting killed. Apparently he’s got quite a safe job.’
‘Perhaps she’s just missing him? I could sympathise with that.’
‘Me, too. She’s got two young children but she seems to be coping with them quite well.’ Ben sounded puzzled, she thought. He went on, ‘She asked something quite peculiar. She asked if there was any way her prescriptions could be sent in by post. I told her there was no need, there was only one pharmacist on the island but she ought to know that he was very good. But it didn’t seem to please her.’
‘Odd,’ Alice said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Well, she knew you were back. I told her that I could tell that there was something that she didn’t want to discuss with me—perhaps because I was a family friend. But why didn’t she drop round and have a word with you? I said it might be something to do with a specifically female problem and in that case you might be able to help. I’d like to know what’s wrong and I think you might be able to get it out of her.’
Suddenly, Alice felt in trouble. She could have done without this kind of problem. ‘Ben, are you asking me to do something that could be called unprofessional? It sounds like that. This is a terrible thing to say but I told you, I’ve just been through a hard time because I trusted a man—in fact, I loved him—and he betrayed me.’
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