Jennifer took the poker and pushed a log further into the fire. ‘We thought she’d beaten the cancer. Angus was born the following year. The later stages of her pregnancy masked symptoms that were, in fact, the return of her cancer. Only this time it was worse. The spread included the liver.’
‘That must have been rough. Especially with a new baby.’
‘Angus never really knew Jan. I suspect he’s always thought I was his mother. Even the twins turned to me more and more as Janet got sicker. It was a very slow process. She hung on for nearly two years. It was Michael who was the most affected. And Philip,’ Jennifer added. ‘He was suffering from depression even before Jan died but he still held things together—just. It was me that suggested he take some time out away from here and the children.’ Jennifer’s glance at Andrew was defensive. ‘I didn’t think he’d need this long to get things together and neither did he. He’s stayed in close touch with the children and he hasn’t abandoned them. He’ll be back as soon as he’s ready and they’ll be a family again.’
Andrew was silent for a long time. Lost in her own memories, Jennifer continued to play with the fire. When Andrew spoke again, the soft words touched something very deep inside her.
‘Are you happy, Jen?’
Jennifer was tempted to respond lightly. Positively. To say of course she was. She loved the children and Saskia had been a real bonus. But when was the last time someone had asked her that question and been genuinely interested in an honest answer? Even Hamish had never bothered making sure he knew the truth. As long as he’d been happy he’d assumed that she’d been as well.
‘I love my work,’ Jennifer finally answered. ‘And I love my home. I have a lot of people that I care about very deeply and I’m never alone, so I can’t be…’ Her voice trailed off with a vague tone of surprise.
‘Lonely?’
Jennifer shook her head. ‘Silly thing to say. Especially to you.’
‘Why?’
‘We hardly know each other,’ Jennifer said carefully. ‘Not as friends, anyway. And here I am telling you something that I hadn’t even realised myself. Something that sounds, oh, I don’t know…ungrateful, I suppose. Here I have an interesting and challenging career, a beautiful home and wonderful children sharing my life. How could I possibly feel lonely?’
‘Very easily,’ Andrew said quietly. The very notion of Jennifer feeling lonely made him want to gather her in his arms. To hold her so close she would know that she never needed to feel lonely again. He knew exactly how she felt. And he knew the reason. ‘You don’t have a partner,’ he added.
‘I do. Brian Wallace. He came here to see you the first day you were sick. Don’t you remember?’
‘I’m not talking about a professional partner. I’m talking about a life partner. An equal relationship. Someone to love and be loved by. You nurture and care for a lot of people, Jen. Isn’t there someone who can do that for you?’
‘A man, you mean?’ Jennifer grinned. ‘As if!’ She spread her hands. ‘Look at me. I’m the old woman in the shoe. What man in their right mind would set foot in this place?’
‘Me,’ Andrew answered promptly. ‘See? I’m here.’
Jennifer laughed. ‘You were definitely not in your right mind when you arrived and you’re still too weak to escape.’
‘I’m not in any hurry to escape,’ Andrew said quietly. ‘I like it here.’
Jennifer’s face stilled. She held Andrew’s gaze for a heartbeat longer than was comfortable. A flush of colour crept into her cheeks as she looked away. ‘We like having you here. And you’re welcome to stay just as long as you want.’
Andrew let his gaze remain on Jennifer’s profile as the glow from the fire played on her face and highlighted the golden glints in her hair. Her words had been polite. Friendly. But Jennifer seemed distracted. Almost embarrassed. Had he given away too much in that glance they’d shared?
Did Jennifer have any idea at all of the implications of her invitation? He could stay as long as he wanted.
Andrew Stephenson wanted for ever.
CHAPTER SIX
IT TOOK another two days for Andrew Stephenson to fulfil his end of the deal.
And by that time Jennifer’s opinion of Andrew had changed to the point that her remembered prejudice was unrecognisable. How could she have ever considered this man to be arrogant? Sure, he assumed the mantle of leadership but the ease with which he did so came from the desire to achieve a successful outcome for everyone involved, not from any determination to prove himself superior. Jennifer had never seen him assume control outside a professional encounter until now, but the last few days had cast Andrew in the role of a hero in her unusual household.
It had been Andrew that had saddled up the fat little Welsh pony, Button, on the sunny Saturday afternoon so that the small tribe of children had been able to take turns being led along the still soggy pathways through the native bush bordering the creek on Jennifer’s property. He had declared himself fit for the gentle exercise and that it was, in fact, the perfect prescription to rebuild his physical strength. Jennifer had been grateful for the offer, having been called in to see a patient she was becoming concerned about. Susan Begg had been suffering some distressing episodes of shortness of breath over the last few months and feeling generally tired and unwell. A near fainting spell had prompted the call to Jennifer on Saturday and she had arranged to meet Susan at the hospital to give her a thorough check-up.
Button was back in his paddock by the time Jennifer returned home. The pony was looking a lot better, having been brushed clear of the mud clogging his heavy winter coat. She had seen and waved at Saskia and the younger children, having passed them walking Sam home. Andrew and Michael were found sitting in the living room, huddled over the screen of the laptop.
‘Beating the giant spiders again?’
‘No.’ Michael sounded scornful. ‘Drew’s showing me stas-stick—’
‘Statistical analysis,’ Andrew supplied helpfully. ‘We’re making graphs based on percentage analysis of data.’
‘Really?’ Jennifer was genuinely impressed. ‘What sort of data?’
‘Pollution,’ Michael answered. ‘It’s my school project. I’m making a pie chart right now. I’ve got the bits for how much comes from cars and how much from coal fires and…’ He took his eyes off the screen to glance at Andrew. ‘How do I change the colour for this bit?’
‘Highlight the area,’ Andrew instructed. ‘Then go to your toolbar. That’s the strip up the top there. Click on colour and then choose.’
Michael used the mouse confidently. His face lit up with a grin as the section of the pie chart changed to green. ‘This is cool,’ he exclaimed. ‘My project’s going to be even better than Hannah’s.’
‘Who’s Hannah?’ Andrew queried.
‘A girl in my class,’ Michael said, his tone heavy with disgust. ‘She thinks she’s so smart.’
Andrew’s glance met Jennifer’s. Was Andrew empathising with having feminine competition in an academic arena? She caught a glint of real amusement and something more. An acknowledgement of their old relationship and perhaps a recognition that it had been less than mature? And Jennifer had once considered this man to be oblivious to the finer feelings of those around him. The glance was brief.
‘And is she smart?’ he asked Michael.
‘I suppose.’ Michael’s agreement was grudging. He was clearly distracted. ‘Hey, how are we going to print this out?’
‘Save it to disk,’ Jennifer suggested, as Andrew frowned in thought. ‘I can take it to the hospital and print it out for you.’ She eased the heavy bag from her shoulder and placed it on the end of the table. The ECG tracing she had taken from Susan Begg was in there, along with the cardiology textbooks she wanted to consult. ‘Like a coffee?’ she asked Andrew. ‘I’m just going to make one for myself.’
‘Thanks.’ Andrew smiled. ‘I could use one.’
He looked tired, which was hardly surprising, having spent
his first full day out of bed. It wasn’t just the children he’d been helping either. Jennifer was surprised to find an impressive array of peeled and shredded vegetables on the kitchen bench. A basin of finely sliced meat was marinading in what smelt like soy sauce. Jennifer sniffed appreciatively.
‘We found an old wok.’ Andrew’s voice came from close behind her. ‘I’m going to show Saskia how to do a stir-fry.’ He reached to replace the basin’s cover, his hand brushing Jennifer’s. She hastily turned her attention back to the coffee, disconcerted by the level of her awareness the casual touch had invoked.
‘How are you feeling?’ she enquired briskly. ‘You look a bit weary.’
‘I am,’ Andrew admitted. ‘I’ll probably fall asleep in the middle of my dinner. I’ve moved my stuff out into the cottage, by the way. You can have your own bed back.’
‘Oh…thanks.’ Jennifer felt suddenly embarrassed. Maybe it was just the thought that she would be sleeping in a bed recently vacated by Andrew. It would be impossible not to think of him as she lay there. Had he thought of her in the long hours he’d spent lying in her bed? The heat generated by her embarrassment was spreading. It lodged, inexplicably, low down in her abdomen. Jennifer searched for a way to change the subject.
‘How’s that cut on your leg doing?’ She handed Andrew a mug of coffee. ‘We’ll be able to take those stitches out in a day or two.’ Her cheeks still felt warm. This probably wasn’t the ideal subject to tone down her awareness of Andrew’s body. Thankfully, he seemed unaware of her discomfiture.
‘It’s nice and clean. Healing well. You did a great job.’ Andrew sipped his coffee. ‘How did you get on with that patient you went in to see?’
‘Susan?’ Jennifer was delighted to have an opportunity to both change the subject and discuss the case. It might even save her bothering Brian at home for a second opinion. ‘Come and see what you think of her ECG.’
Minutes later, one end of the table was spread with opened textbooks and patient record sheets. Michael was still in front of the laptop, looking very studious, at the other end of the table.
‘So how long has she been having these spells?’
‘A lot longer than I initially knew about. The first visits were just for persistent lethargy. She thought she was just run-down after having three children in as many years. It wasn’t until she got really short of breath one day when she was hanging out the washing that I really started to take some notice, but I didn’t pick up the murmur then.’
‘So you’re thinking maybe aortic stenosis?’ Andrew picked up the ECG tracing again. ‘It’s a long time since I did much cardiology. Definitely a left bundle branch block. And these Q waves are quite marked.’
‘What bothers me is that her father died suddenly when he was fifty-two. He was a top-dressing pilot and his plane crashed and then burned so an autopsy was never done. What if he crashed because he had some sort of cardiac event? This trace and Susan’s symptoms make me wonder about something like hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. If it is, then Susan’s at risk of sudden collapse and death at any time. She’s only twenty-six and she’s got three kids under five.’
‘Are you going to refer her?’
Jennifer nodded. ‘I’m keeping her in hospital for the weekend for a rest and then I’ll send her over to Christchurch to see a cardiologist on Monday. They can do further investigations, like an echo and catheterisation, if necessary. I’m wondering if I should start her on a beta blocker right now. Just to be on the safe side. I was planning to read up on it tonight.’
‘I wouldn’t mind reading up on it myself.’ Andrew sat down at the table and pulled a textbook towards himself. ‘I’d forgotten how interesting all this is. You kind of lose the feel of general medicine when you get caught up in a specialty. Particularly surgery.’ Andrew grinned. ‘The longest time you spend with your patients is when they’re sound asleep.’
Jennifer was still staring at the ECG trace. It wasn’t exactly a textbook example of abnormalities. They could have argued the significance of almost any part of it. Andrew could have quizzed her about her investigation of the murmur she’d heard. Whether she’d accurately determined if it was systolic or diastolic. If a fourth heart sound was clear and whether the abnormal heart sound diminished with the patient in a squatting position and increased markedly on standing. They could have argued the toss about the possibilities of mitral regurgitation or aortic stenosis. He could have dismissed her diagnosis on the basis of an imaginative interpretation of Susan’s father’s death or based on the need for more intensive investigation.
In the old days that was precisely the way they would have interacted. It was a revelation that Andrew could be as supportive as he could be challenging. Did the difference come because of the attitude with which Jennifer had approached the discussion or had she blown things out of all proportion in the past? And, if so, why?
Much to Jennifer’s disappointment, the opportunity for any further discussion was lost as the noise level outside the house suddenly became impossible to ignore and the twins bounded into the living room.
‘Hey, Drew! We found a hedgehog!’
‘Did you?’
‘It’s only a baby. It might be sick. Can you come and have a look?’
Sophie was peering over Michael’s shoulder. ‘That spider just ate you,’ she announced. ‘Can I have a go?’
‘When I’m finished,’ Michael told her. ‘This is a cool game.’
‘Come on, Drew. Sass is finding a box for the hedgehog.’ Jessica was pulling at Andrew’s sleeve.
‘I want to see it, too.’ Michael finally wrenched himself away from the computer screen. The children all rushed from the room, with Andrew in tow. He managed a faintly apologetic grin in Jennifer’s direction as he was borne away. She stared after them feeling slightly bewildered. The twins hadn’t even said hello. She was a doctor. She could have managed a consultation on a potentially sick hedgehog with at least as much expertise as Andrew.
Jennifer’s gaze caught the abandoned laptop. So much for the project and looking so studious. Michael was back to simply enjoying himself with the game. And he looked so happy. Was it Andrew’s computer that was drawing Michael out of his shell with such stunning results or was it the relationship he was forming with this man? And what about all those vegetables in the kitchen? Why hadn’t she taken the time to give Saskia cooking lessons instead of just stocking the pantry and freezer with plenty of fail-proof commercial products? Was Andrew trying to show up her failure as the head of this unusual family?
The twinge of resentment would have been easy to catch and enlarge. It was exactly how Jennifer would have interpreted Andrew’s behaviour in years gone by but she knew now, with absolute certainty, that she would be wrong in doing so. Andrew wasn’t trying to prove anything. He was being drawn into the family because of who he was. Jennifer smiled to herself rather wryly. She might as well go with the flow and enjoy it along with all the others. It wasn’t as though it was going to last very long.
The tiny hedgehog shouldn’t have been out of the nest at all. It was the size of a golf ball under its still soft prickles. The eyes were firmly closed and the tiny black feet and legs lacked the strength to keep the baby animal upright for more than a few seconds at a time. Named Sonic by Michael, their new pet was fed from an eyedropper with some of the black kitten’s special cat milk and a nest was made in a shoebox with hay and one of Michael’s rugby socks. The excitement over the new family member overrode the children’s appreciation of the dinner but Jennifer was well aware of how proud Saskia felt.
‘This is fantastic,’ she congratulated the teenager.
‘It was fun. I never knew how easy it was to cook.’
Andrew’s exhaustion didn’t prevent him offering to keep Sonic’s shoebox beside his bed and setting his alarm clock to ensure that he woke often enough to keep up the two-hourly feeding schedule he’d proposed.
Jennifer made a quick trip to the hospital on Sunday morning, pr
imarily to check on Susan, and returned to find that Andrew had been persuaded to attend Michael’s rugby game that afternoon. They were to be collected by Tom Bartlett, whose son Lawrence was also in Michael’s team.
‘You don’t need to come if you don’t want to,’ Michael told Jennifer. The boy didn’t meet his aunt’s eye and the casual tone was careful enough to make Jennifer pause. She always went to watch the games if possible. It gave her a chance to spend time with Michael and he’d needed the push to keep up his interest in the game after his father had no longer been on the sideline to cheer for his son’s team. Today, Michael was already dressed in his kit an hour before he needed to be. The fact that his studded rugby boots were clean was nothing short of a miracle. Was the enthusiasm due to the fact that he had a male figure coming to watch who might be able to appreciate the finer points of the game? Or was it that Andrew wouldn’t stand out as being different from the gathering of local fathers and boys that normally edged the field?
‘I might give it a miss just for once.’ Jennifer tried to match Michael’s casual tone. ‘I could do with catching up on a bit of housework.’
Michael just nodded. ‘We might be a bit late back,’ he added. ‘Lawrence’s dad said he might take Drew to the pub for a beer after the game. Lawrence and I can go and play on the beach.’
It was dusk by the time they returned. Jennifer was sweeping the verandah. She paused and leaned on the broom as Andrew mounted the steps.
‘How was the game?’
‘A resounding success. I forget the score but Mike’s team won by a mile.’
‘Thirty-two to twelve,’ Michael shouted triumphantly. He clattered across the wooden verandah, dropping mud from his boots as he headed towards the front door.
Rivals in Practice Page 9
