‘Come with me,’ she said, and took him by the hand.
Her bedroom curtains were drawn, she flicked the switch of her bedside light and a dim yellow light cast shadows across the room.
She remembered his body from the past and felt a sudden urgency, a need to touch him, to press her hardened nipples against his chest. Ben’s fingers were tugging at her belt and buttons, trembling with a sudden controlled urgency, his usual sureness lost to passion. He gently pushed her trousers down to her hips and lowered her onto the bed. She smiled at the determined expression on his face as he lowered his head to hers.
He kissed her neck, her closed eyes, framed her face with his strong hands, kissed and stroked her into what felt like heaven. Her skin felt on fire, alive, loved, the tension of the accident leaving her body to be replaced with a drugged heavy pleasure, the warmth spreading to all her body, transforming to that sweet ache between her thighs.
Alice felt a warmth and happiness that transcended anything she had felt before. She tingled with anticipation, she wanted him to kiss her breasts, she wanted… she wanted all of him. Cruelty. He had stopped, he was struggling to undo his belt. She wanted to be naked against all of him, needed to be close to his maleness and wanted that feeling of being both protected and threatened by his masculinity. She needed to feel his body heat and the intensity of his need. She smiled, an impish quirky smile, and momentary doubt flickered across his face as, taking him by surprise, she pushed him so that now he was underneath her. She felt that fleeting power women had before sweet capitulation. His eyes gleamed in the soft light, his want written on his face. He seemed oddly vulnerable, younger, and for a moment she saw the Ben of fifteen years ago, and felt a brief sadness that he was gone for ever.
His eyes slowly took in the lines of her body, the curve of her breast, the soft sweep of hair lying against creamy flesh and travelled down to the shadowed promise below. His shudder of frustration heightened her response.
She wanted to play, to delay that which she wanted more than anything else in the world. She offered her breast to his lips and arched with the pleasure he brought her. She brushed her breasts against his chest and felt his response. Alice knew neither of them could wait much longer. He sat back and she helped him remove the few garments he had left. Then both sighed with pleasure as he was free to lie against her, warm and damp against her belly, a promise and an exciting threat. She knelt over him again, her hair falling softly against his chest, kissing him and moving gently against him in that eternal accelerating rhythm, filled with an urgency she had never felt so intensely before.
Again she smiled at Ben, her eyes crinkling with mischief, wanting to again delay delight, needing to exercise her power over him, to test the depth of his passion. ‘You witch, you’re teasing me,’ he said in a tender whisper, and effortlessly turned her over.
Now he was astride her body, his eyes drinking in the beauty of the lines of her breast, the golden down on her shapely arms, the inviting darkness between her thighs. He stroked the curve of her cheek, the dark intensity of her eyes echoing his feelings. He couldn’t wait much longer, but he knew that this first time had to be right, he knew that it was important to her to explore and be explored, important for her to have this power of withholding and then giving pleasure. He knew she would give all of herself without doubt or self-consciousness, her pleasure heightened by his.
He realised that pleasing her was as important as taking his own pleasure. Her body was at once familiar and new, his body remembering the intensity of the love-making of their youth. Suddenly he was a supplicant, pleading for her to open to him.
Alice had never wanted this as much as now, had never had such a desperate need to assuage the sweet ache, never felt the pain of such intense need before. She felt as if there had been no one else, she felt she was a novice at loving like this. She sensed the change in Ben and revelled in her capitulation, ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Please, now.’ Taking him in her hands until he gave an inarticulate cry, pulled her hands over her head and entered her. All reason was gone. Sensation replaced thought as their bodies joined in the timeless accelerating rhythm of love.
She would have liked to stay there in bed for ever. Lying on her back, her head on her arm, his hand stroking her cooling body. Something struck her and she giggled. ‘You organised the furniture for this flat, didn’t you?’
‘Did the best I could,’ he muttered. ‘I worked on the same principle that I use when I buy presents. Always get something that you really like yourself. Then you know that at least one person is going to be happy with your choice.’
‘Well, I think you did very well. But just one question. If you bought furniture for a single-person flat, why did you order a double bed?’
‘That’s a good question. And I don’t know the answer. I certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did get a double bed. I like it.’
She rolled over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Now I’m just going to lie here for five minutes and then we jump back into the real world.’
‘Five minutes,’ he said, and in his turn rolled over to kiss her bare shoulder. ‘Five wonderful minutes.’
She closed her eyes. Just five minutes of thinking nothing but that she was so blissfully happy. It wasn’t very long but she knew that it was all that they could spare.
Her time was soon over. Showing more strength than she’d known she possessed, she sat up, pulled the sheet over her breasts. ‘You have to go,’ she said. ‘You have a daughter at home and you have to work tomorrow.’
He sat up too, took her hand in his. ‘I suppose so. Alice, that was so wonderful.’
She nodded dolefully. ‘It was. And you know it’s been hanging over us both since we met again. I’ve been thinking about what we did all those years ago, wondering if it would still be so marvellous and if—’
‘It was still so marvellous!’ There was a pause and then he said. ‘But now what?’
This was the crux of the matter and she knew she had to be resolute. ‘Now nothing. We both know we can’t have a future. You’re still hurting after your divorce, I’m still hurting after my break-up and the mess at the hospital. I’m even scared of you, thinking that you could hurt me even more than Sean did. Yes, what we’ve just had was wonderful but it can’t go on. And we have to work together. That would make it harder.’
Silence for another minute and then when he spoke his voice was sombre. ‘I suppose you’re right. We’re not teenagers any more. It would be nice to think that we’re older and wiser. And we mustn’t do this again, it could become addictive.’
There was nothing she could say. She knew he was right, but…but she had to accept it. ‘Kiss me one more time and then get dressed and go,’ she whispered. ‘Let’s part while all is good between us.’
He did kiss her. But it wasn’t the kind of kiss that it had been before. She lay still in bed and watched as he pulled his clothes on. Another swift kiss on the forehead and he was gone. She thought that perhaps he was right. If he had to go it was best that he go quickly.
Alice lay back on her pillow and tried to work out whether she was happy or sad. Happy first of all—their love-making had been all and more than she had expected. She could lie here in bed for ever, a small smile on her face, just thinking about it.
Sad? What about the future? She had felt that she had to offer him a way out, make him feel that he was under no obligation to her. But when she had said that they couldn’t go on, he could have contradicted her, couldn’t he? Could have said at least that…could have said what? She wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Was she trying to persuade herself that making love with Ben had been a single experience, a one-off, not to be repeated? Almost therapy, in fact? Now she wasn’t very sure. But it had been so wonderful. So she slept.
Ben didn’t want to go straight home. He knew he’d find happiness there, just gazing at the face of his sleeping daughter. But before that he nee
ded to understand his feelings, to make sense of the whirling thoughts that were troubling him, to resolve the conflict that he felt. So he turned off the road, bumped down a farm track, and eventually parked on cliffs overlooking the sea. He sat, listening to faint murmur of waves below. It soothed him—a little.
What to do about Alice? Making love to her had brought back all the emotions he had felt so many years before. Could he still love someone after fifteen years apart? Right now he felt he could. But…she wasn’t a girl now but a career-woman. If he was in love then he was in love with the present Alice, not the memory of the past. However, she had set her heart on going back to London in a year’s time, taking up this new job. Soalay was just a place for rest and recuperation.
He had been married and it had been a disaster. Why risk disaster again? But now he felt lucky—out of it he had got Fiona and she was the centre of his life. Could her risk Fiona’s happiness in any way?
Did he have a choice? When he’d left, Alice had been quite definite. He remembered her words when they had talked about this. Now nothing. We both know we can’t have a future. Well, that had been clear enough.
He knew what he had to do—nothing. Carry on with Alice as a friend and a colleague and feel sorry when she left at the end of her year. Pretending that they meant so little to each other was a pretence, but they could both keep it up. But then he remembered their love-making. It would be so hard to give up that—but he would have to.
Alice wasn’t sure how she would face him next day. Or how he would want to face her. He had his surgery, she had her clinics. They could try to keep apart but they were in adjoining buildings and their paths crossed constantly. Often they had coffee together. She just didn’t know what would happen.
In fact, he came over to see her at lunchtime, asking to see the patient notes of a child. They looked at each other as she handed the notes over, her receptionist hovering in the background.
‘I’ve had a phone call from the police,’ he said, ‘thanking us for letting them know about the bridge. The local works department is mending it now, but things could have been very nasty.’
‘Very nasty,’ she agreed. ‘But now everything is all right.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
She thought she could see the relief in his eyes and she felt sad as she heard the unspoken message. Last night had happened. It had been wonderful but it wasn’t to be spoken of again. And it certainly wasn’t to happen again. They would still be friends and carry on as before.
She was now working hard and really enjoying it. Her circle of friends was enlarging. There were a surprising number of people who remembered her, and she felt she was becoming part of island life again. She was asked to give a talk to the local women’s group and she talked about the concept of a birthing unit, invited the group to have a tour.
Afterwards she was invited to join the group. She said she would—but time was always a problem. Now she felt she was part of a living community, something she had never felt in London.
She still saw a lot of Ben but their relationship was now more complex. When they met there was now a bond between them that was felt but unspoken. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in apparently casual conversation. They had fused together in a way that could never be forgotten.
But this bond was going nowhere. Neither knew where they were going, both were too afraid to try to push things further. She had thought of inviting him for a meal again—but she always backed away from the idea. It would seem too much like a challenge. Perhaps twice a week she called in at Taighean dhe Gaoithe to see Fiona—but she tried to do it when she knew Ben wouldn’t be there. Mrs McCann was always pleased to see her. So life was carrying on.
But there was always the feeling that all was not settled between her and Ben. They had unfinished business—though how it was going to finish she didn’t know. Some decision had to be made but no way could it come from her. Whatever it was, it had to come from him.
When it did come it came as a shock.
She had finished her afternoon’s work by booking in two giggling women who had just discovered that they were really, truly pregnant. Now she was expecting to do a couple of hours of paperwork—she needed to order more stock. So far an ordinary, quite pleasant day.
Her phone rang. Not the official midwife and nurse’s phone but her personal mobile. Only a few people knew its number but when she was out of her clinic she had urgent messages forwarded to it. At first she didn’t recognise the voice. A woman obviously, but the accent was thicker than normal and the woman was obviously very upset. ‘Alice, you’ve got to come at once! She’s hurt, I think it’s badly, and I’ve phoned the doctor but he’s at the far side of the island and can’t get back.’
Then Alice realised who it was. Mrs McCann. Then who could be hurt? There was only one possible person. Fiona!
Somehow she managed to quell her natural panic, tried to act like a medical professional. She made her voice sound confident, reassuring. ‘Mrs McCann! Now, calm down, this is important but I’m sure we can sort things out. It’s Fiona, isn’t it? What exactly has happened to her?’
Mrs McCann reacted well to Alice’s composed voice. ‘Yes, it is the wee girl. She was playing outside and running along that garden wall. She fell off. I saw her but I couldn’t stop her, and it’s her leg. I think it’s broken. She started screaming and I brought her inside and—’
‘Is there any bleeding?’
‘No. But her leg’s all twisted and bruised looking. There a big swelling and I—’
‘Don’t try to do anything. Try to calm her, keep her lying down, try to stop her moving and cover her with something warm. I’ll be there in a quarter of an hour. Did you say that you’d phoned Ben?’
‘I did. He’s away at the far side of the island, it’ll take him at least an hour for him to come straight back. He said to phone you.’
Even though all her thoughts were on the emergency, Alice felt a tiny touch of pleasure at the thought that Ben should turn to her first. But she had work to do!
Her Land Rover was outside, she didn’t need to collect any medical supplies. There was always a full kit in the car boot. She shouted a quick word of explanation to Morag and then set off for Taighean dhe Gaoithe.
She was a professional, she thought as she drove, and forced herself to keep down to a safe speed. She had to think of Fiona as an A and E case, not a little girl she had come to love. Now, what did she remember about broken legs? It was hard, trying to detach herself from her feelings, but she had to do it. And what made it worse was that outside it was a lovely day—just the kind of day to sit in the sun and play with a little girl.
She skidded to a stop outside the house, grabbed the two cases that she thought might be of most use and ran to the open front door. ‘Mrs McCann,’ she shouted.
‘Here. In the living room. We’re here.’
The living room. Where so often she had sat companionably with Ben and watched the sun go down. But now there was a small form covered with a red blanket stretched out on one of the couches. There was the sound of a child sobbing and Mrs McCann’s gentle voice. ‘Now, then, my darling. Auntie Alice is here and soon everything will be all right.’
I hope so, Alice thought. She leaned over the little girl, kissed the tear-streaked face. ‘We’ll soon have you feeling better, darling,’ she whispered. ‘Now, just let Auntie Alice have a look at you.’
It wrenched at her heart to see Fiona’s fear and pain. But love and sympathy weren’t enough. She needed to be professional.
First, something to ease the pain. Well, that was easy enough—she had powerful analgesics in her bag. An injection and after a minute Fiona’s sobs diminished. Now the examination. It had been drummed into her in A and E that there might be an obvious injury that needed prompt treatment. But always check to see that there was nothing else wrong. With Mrs McCann’s help Alice slid off Fiona’s few clothes. A graze on one elbow but that was all. The only serious injury was the l
eg—but that was bad enough.
The leg was twisted and swollen but fortunately there was no bone protruding through the skin. Alice ran her hands gently over the site and winced. It felt like a complicated fracture—there was damage to the soft tissues around the break. This could be just as serious as the break itself. And Fiona was still young, at an age when bones could heal themselves more easily. But the damage to the soft tissues was bad.
Alice took one of Fiona’s tiny toes, pinched the nail. The nail went white—but when Alice released it, did not promptly turn pink again. Poor capillary return. Blood wasn’t circulating as it should, presumably because of an obstruction caused by the break. There was bleeding into the tissues. Alice grimaced. If the poor capillary return remained, it wasn’t impossible that Fiona might lose her leg.
She had to do something! But this was not an A and E department with skilled staff, the battery of monitoring machines that kept constant vigilance over a patient’s state. There was just Mrs McCann and herself. She didn’t even dare wait for Ben to return. So Mrs McCann and she would have to manage.
‘We’re going to have to reduce the fracture,’ she told the older lady. ‘That means we have to pull the injured leg and straighten it. Then we have to tie the two legs together so that the whole one acts as a splint for the injured one. I can’t do it on my own. You’ll have to help me.’
Mrs McCann looked worried. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for the doctor?’
‘I’d love to. But this is an emergency. It’s what he’d want us to do.’
Alice settled her patient on her back and then moved to the end of the couch, by Fiona’s feet. ‘Hold her shoulders,’ she told Mrs McCann. ‘Hold them gently but firmly.’ Then she took hold of the injured leg.
The Midwife And The Single Dad Page 11