by Annie O'Neil
It’s something GPs do, you idiot!
She locked the thought away in the drawer marked ‘Yet Another Reason to Respect Sam’.
As if he’d been reading her mind, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. She shook off the little crackles of response she felt at his touch and focused on the words coming out of his mouth. Or was she just staring at his mouth? She’d been kissing that mouth a couple of days ago. Mmm...it was a lovely mouth.
Wrong point of focus, woman!
‘Don’t worry. They know you’re not a dementia specialist. Mrs Sedlescombe just thought it would be a bit easier for her to speak with a woman. I think she’s more embarrassed than anything.’
Fair enough. It wasn’t your everyday conversation about how to stave off the effects of aging.
‘And you said Mr Sedlescombe’s coming too?’ She’d learned fractions from Mr Sedlescombe. And Algebra. The foundation for a lot of the science courses she’d taken in med school.
Sam threw a kind smile towards the waiting room. ‘They’ve been married for ever. He’s worried. And, as he’s finally taking retirement at the end of the year, I suppose it’s just another reminder that they’re both getting on. He should’ve retired about fifteen years ago. I think Vera only retired because she had the stroke. It’s sweet, really. He wants to make sure the woman by his side stays the way she is as long as she can. Even if means a bit of embarrassment at the local GP’s.’
Wow. If that didn’t tug at her heart strings nothing would. This was village life. In and out of each other’s pockets in the best way possible.
‘You lot need a female GP on staff.’
Sam shot her a look. Whoops. She was meant to have been that person.
‘We do have a doctor who comes over from Farmstone once a week, but she’s on an extended holiday. You’re right, though. With Grandad getting on we probably need someone on a more permanent basis.’
She avoided his eyes just in case they were saying what her brain was... It could’ve been you.
Sam clapped his hands together, as if he was trying to dodge the awkwardness as well. ‘All right. I’ll call them in, shall I?’
‘Sure. Fine. I’ll just...’ she flicked her thumb towards the office ‘... I’ll just wait in here.’
She went into the homely room and sat down. Then stood up. Then struck what she hoped was a casual pose by the examination table.
Why was she feeling so awkward? Her patients in London were every bit as important to her. Up until a handful of weeks ago her world had all but revolved around them.
A thousand reasons played out in front of her. They hadn’t known her when she was in pigtails. Their parents hadn’t driven her home from sleepovers. Not one of them had been to her sister’s funeral.
She swallowed down the inevitable lump in her throat. So many of Sam’s patients had been there for her family that day. Helping Mrs Sedlescombe was the least she could do.
Maybe that was how Sam felt. He could have ended up anywhere in the world. With any other family. Or in another orphanage. He knew how fortunate he’d been, and serving his community was a pleasure, not a penance.
The truth whipped in and shunted through her. Paying penance was the reason why Stella’s death hurt so much. She’d put so much pressure on that one surgery to make her world right again, when the truth was nothing would bring her sister back.
As she heard Sam and the Sedlescombes walking down the corridor she made a quick vow to herself. From here on out she’d treat her patients the way Sam did. As individuals with their own journeys. Not stepping stones in her medical career. Maybe she’d never been that clinical with her patients, but... The truth hurt. She’d been on a mission, and that mission had failed because she’d had the wrong goal.
Once Sam had shown them in, and the couple had sat down, everything slipped into place as if she’d been having this sort of chats all her life.
Jayne showed Mrs Sedlescombe that the pills she’d bought off the internet weren’t the same pills they were using in the trials. She also pointed out to Vera, as she insisted she call her, that the full results from the second stage of the trial had yet to be released.
When it became clear that Vera still had yet to be fully convinced that taking the pills would be risky, she pointed out the potential side effects that might be experienced if she took the pills she’d purchased: sudden and sharp memory loss.
The couple looked at one another in shock. And a little relief.
‘I had no idea more memory loss was a side effect.’ Vera looked at her husband and gave his wrinkly hand a squeeze. ‘I could’ve made things worse if you hadn’t insisted on coming in.’
‘That didn’t happen, though, love. Did it? We came in and Dr Sinclair set us straight.’
Vera batted at the air between them. ‘I feel so silly.’
‘Don’t,’ Jayne insisted. ‘Who doesn’t want to fix something that seems out of your control?’ The list of things she wanted to fix wouldn’t have fitted on a scroll that circled the earth! ‘If you’re genuinely worried about memory loss there are a few things I suggest for my paediatric patients.’
Terry tightened his grip on his wife’s hand. ‘I didn’t realise children had strokes.’
Jayne sobered as she explained that anyone could have a stroke. ‘The trick as regards memory loss is to keep your brain stimulated. I appreciate you both had a shock when Vera suffered her stroke, but I hope it hasn’t changed how you live your life in terms of mental stimulus.’
‘Well, no. I still read as much as I ever did.’
Jayne smiled as she remembered Vera’s classroom. It had been filled to the brim with books. ‘It was you who built her all those bookshelves, wasn’t it?’
Terry smiled proudly. ‘It was. I got a class who were struggling with the practical application of maths to design them. Couldn’t have been prouder.’
‘Right. So, that’s exactly how you need to continue. Stimulate your brain. Do you play chess?’
Vera nodded. ‘Sometimes we pull the board out at the pub.’
Jayne smiled. There was a stack of board games at the pub. Being social would help as well.
‘Great! Keep on doing that.’ She printed out a list of other exercises and habitual practices that would help. As she handed it to Vera she said, ‘These are actually just wise tips for anyone who’s...’
‘Who’s getting old and wrinkly?’
Jayne laughed. ‘I wasn’t planning on putting it quite like that—but, yes. As you start to get on in years, looking after yourself gets a bit trickier.’
‘Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got this one by my side,’ Vera said proudly as she helped Terry up from his chair. He took both canes in one hand, linked his free arm with his wife’s.
‘Any more questions?’
‘Only one,’ Terry said, and he reached into his pocket and took out the box of pills they’d been there to discuss. ‘Would you mind disposing of these? Safely,’ he added with a wink. ‘We wouldn’t want to put the village’s new AED to work any time soon, would we?’
‘That we would not,’ Jayne said with a smile.
She waved them off, then wandered back along the corridor. She suddenly realised a couple of her father’s wildflower meadow paintings were on display there. She should call her parents. Make a better effort. Report on the news from Whitticombe for once, rather than the other way round. A sea-change from their seven-years-old habit of ignoring everything.
Sam popped his head out of his office. ‘How’d it go?’
‘Good! Great. They’re such a lovely couple.’
Sam grabbed hold of the doorframe with one of his hands and leant out further, so he could watch as Mr Sedlescombe let his canes take his weight while he opened the door for his wife.
Jayne watched Sam watching them. He looked so happy for them. The little crinkle
s by his eyes were soft with affection.
‘What a gentleman,’ Sam said.
‘You’re a gentleman, too!’
‘Why, Jayne Sinclair...’ He made a half-bow and as he dipped low she was sure a sentimental look washed across his features. When he came back up to his full height he grinned. ‘You almost sound as if you’re defending my honour.’
He swept the backs of his fingers across her cheek. That crackle of electricity swept through her body in double-time as her heart did a swirly dance around her chest.
Sam’s honour didn’t need defending. She was the one who was the problem. How could she lumber someone so perfect with a girl who hadn’t told her own parents about the role she’d played in her sister’s death? She couldn’t. And nothing would ever change that. Except, of course, taking the risk of a lifetime and coming clean.
She squeezed her eyes tight and tried to picture hell freezing over. Nope. Still bubbling and hot and awful.
‘Hey, there.’ Sam slid his hand along her arm and dipped his head so he could look directly into her eyes. ‘What’s going on? You look as though your thoughts have gone dark and broody.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She gave his chest a little pat, ignoring just how lovely it felt beneath her finger-pads. ‘I’m fine.’
Sam stretched his arms out and pressed himself back and forth in the doorframe to his office. It was very distracting. His blond hair just about grazed the top of the frame and her eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his forearms as they went through round after round of cord and release.
The very same forearms that had lifted her up onto the kitchen counter as if she were no heavier than a cotton bud...
Before she could stop herself she lowered her voice and asked, ‘Want to meet up later?’
The husky quality of her voice didn’t leave any room for interpretation, and in the blink of an eye the atmosphere between them hummed with the same pent-up sexual chemistry that had launched them at one another in Maggie’s kitchen.
Sam’s eyes raked the length of her. He was so up close and personal he might as well have been doing it with his hands. Her skin felt tingly with anticipation of his actual touch. Blood started roaring round her body and flash flood warnings pounded in her ears.
He gave his jaw a swift scrub. ‘How about I take you out instead? A good old-fashioned date? Dinner? Movie?’
She couldn’t help it. She did a double-take. ‘What?’
He nodded. ‘Yup. We’re obviously not very good at the friends-only thing, but...’ He tipped his head towards the space where the Sedlescombes had just been. ‘As far as relationships go, I want what they have. Always have. I wanted that with you. I thought I wanted it with Marie, but it was you all along. So... Lord. I can’t believe I’m saying all this.’
His opened his palms wide, as if he were baring himself to her.
‘I don’t want to be your I’m having a crisis fling before you head back to London. I want more. And more starts with less. Honesty. Talking. We’re human. We’ve made mistakes. We need to find out if they’re mistakes we can forgive one another for.’ He dropped her that familiar wink of his. ‘So what do you say? Do you fancy a date tonight?’
She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Hard. Her body was vibrating from the bombshells Sam had been dropping all around her in a heart shape.
Commitment.
Mistakes.
Honesty.
She felt as if her insides were being ripped in two. She wanted a second chance with him. Plain as day. But second chances wouldn’t work if she didn’t tell Sam about Jules.
Would he still want her if he knew the truth?
There was only one way to find out. To pull her socks right up and be brave.
The words that came out of her mouth were totally different, but she hoped he would see she was trying to say yes. Yes, she was willing to try.
‘Maggie will need some help getting the children sorted with dinner and bedtime...’
Sam tipped his head back and forth, then smiled that broad, happy smile of his. ‘How about we cook them dinner together? That can be the first part of our date and then I’ll take you to the Golden Acorn.’
She laughed nervously. ‘What? The pub in the centre of the village?’
The one where she’d tactically avoided him for the past seven Christmases?
‘That’s the one. Great burgers.’ He grinned. His tone was still light, but there was something different about him. As if a switch had been flicked. ‘We’ve been dancing around each other for years, Jay. I don’t want to do it any more.’
The heated tingles turned cold.
‘No. Don’t do that,’ he said.
‘What?’ She took another step back and bumped into the wall.
‘Back away. It’s what you always do.’
Yeah. So what? It was her thing.
Determination lit up those green eyes of his. ‘I care about you, Jay. Deep in here.’ He pressed a hand to his heart. ‘I’m pretty sure you feel exactly the same way. But neither of us really knows each other any more. So, from here on out, if you want some of this...’ he drew one of his big hands down the length of that sexy body of his ‘...you’re going to have to come out with me. And talk. We’ve got seven years of catching up to do.’
Before she could say it was too much, too soon, too big an ultimatum, Sam ran his finger along her jawline. ‘I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking you to do what normal people do. Date. We’re not the same happy-go-lucky kids we were way back then.’
True.
‘We might have changed so much we aren’t a match any more.’
Oh. She would put money on the fact that wasn’t true, but Sam had a point...it was a possibility.
‘If the dates go well, maybe we can enjoy something a bit more...’ his tongue swept across his lower lip ‘...intimate.’
Her insides went liquid. In an excruciatingly lovely way. And he still wasn’t finished talking.
‘And if that goes well... We carry on dating.’
‘For how long?’ Her voice came out breathless, even though she hadn’t so much as moved a muscle.
‘For as long as it takes to find out what grown-up Jayne and Sam want. From life. From each other.’
Strewth.
He wasn’t saying it straight out, but she got the subtext. She needed to come clean about why she’d broken their engagement. And then they’d decide whether or not to continue.
‘What about once Maggie’s had her babies and my holiday runs out?’
Everything in her seemed cinched tight as he tipped his head back and forth.
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Look. Jayne...’ He pressed his hands to his chest. ‘I have a life here. An adult life. With friends. My family. I’d love you to see it. Properly. This is where I want to be. Where I’m happiest. It’s all well and good, us living in a little bubble while you’re here, but... If you go back to the London Merryweather and decide your life is there, then we go our separate ways. For good.’
‘That sounds a bit final.’
If this was what being a bundle of nerves felt like then she was a bundle of nerves. Sam, on the other hand, looked more calm, cool and collected than she’d seen him in ages. Master of his own destiny. It was powerfully attractive.
He moved the pads of his thumbs across the furrows in her brow. Smoothing them out as if he had all the time in the world.
She could barely breathe as he leant in and said, ‘I need you in or out of my system, Jayne Sinclair. Ignoring you didn’t work. Being mates sure as hell isn’t working either. So how about we try a bit of immersion therapy? See if that does the trick?’
It was the most insane invitation she’d ever had. And completely irresistible. Saturate herself with all things Sam so that they could both officially move on
...
‘You’ll cook up a chicken tonight for Maggie and the kids?’ she asked, her cheeks pinkening at the breathlessness in her voice.
Sam’s voice dropped straight down into the heart of the come-hither register. ‘I plan on doing more than cooking things up.’
There was no way she could say no. Not with that voice pouring through her system like hot butter.
‘Okay.’
‘Okay, what?’
‘Let’s do it. The dinner. The date. All of it.’ She bit down on her lip again, trying to keep the panic from her eyes.
‘You’re sure? There’s Maggie to consider. If this is going to send you running for the hills, forget it. It’s an all-or-nothing deal.’
‘Absolutely.’ She bumped into the wall again, then play-punched it as if it was its fault that she’d reversed into it. She took a very definite step towards him. ‘I want to go out on a date with you. And I will stay here for Maggie.’
The only question was...would she ever have the courage—the strength—to open up completely to Sam about the past?
‘Well, then...’ Sam’s smile was slow in coming but worth the wait. ‘It’s a date.’
It was a risk. Just the sort of thing Jules would’ve done. Risked everything for one single perfect moment.
Like the kiss Sam was planting on her cheek at exactly this moment.
‘See you at six. I’ll bring the chicken.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘ARE YOU DICING that shallot or trying to murder it?’ Maggie called from the chaise longue.
Sam looked at the poor shallot. ‘Bit of both. Doing it this way brings out the natural sweetness,’ he fibbed.
He didn’t know. He was still wondering what the hell had possessed him to ask Jayne to go out on dates. For the rest of the summer.
Either he was a glutton for punishment or he had actually finally hit on something. Whatever it was, he felt they were finally being open and honest with one another.
