Falling for the Brooding Doc

by Annie Claydon

  ‘That’s true.’ He didn’t take the bait.

  ‘You’ve been here for me, Ross. I’d like to return the favour.’

  He puffed out a breath. ‘I’m sorry if I was a little short with you earlier. It’s nothing...’

  ‘I could throw your own words back at you, Ross, and remind you that the more you say that something’s nothing, the less believable it sounds.’

  ‘It’s something.’ Their pace had slowed to a crawl and he stopped suddenly, stuffing his hands into his pockets and gazing out over the water.

  ‘Okay. That’s all I wanted to know.’

  She was lying, and Ross’s sceptical glance told her that he was fully aware of that. Of course she wanted to know more, but pushing him wasn’t going to help. He started to walk again, and she fell into step beside him. If he didn’t want to talk, she should respect that. She’d fought hard enough to keep her own secrets. Just accept the afternoon for what it was and let him be.

  * * *

  He should let it go. Laurie didn’t need to know about this, but he still wanted to tell her.

  ‘I said that I was married. A long time ago...’

  Laurie nodded.

  ‘Alice and I met when I was at medical school. We got married and came back here, and then decided to stay. It was going to be the full turn of the circle for me. The lonely kid, who grew up and filled his house with children.’

  ‘This seems like a good place to bring a family up.’

  ‘Yeah, it seemed that way to us. We waited and nothing happened. After we’d been trying for a year we went for tests. It turned out that there is a one in a thousand chance of my ever becoming a father.’

  She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. Ross knew all the questions that were running through her mind, Laurie was a doctor, but she wasn’t asking any of them.

  ‘So I know you’re wondering.’ He turned the corners of his mouth down.

  ‘Yes, I am. Sudden attack of tact.’

  He couldn’t help smiling, if only for a moment. ‘There’s nothing that medical science can do about it. I have a low sperm count that isn’t linked to any other underlying conditions, it just means that I can’t conceive a child.’

  ‘And you were told a one in a thousand chance.’ Laurie narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Yeah. I explained to Alice that it’s difficult for doctors to speak in certainties, and that one in a thousand was medical speak for not going to happen, but neither of us could stop thinking about that one chance. Each time it didn’t happen, the disappointment got worse, but neither of us could bring ourselves to say ‘never’. We tried IVF and that didn’t work either. In the end she began to blame me for the loss that she felt. I guess that was fair enough, because it was my fault.’

  ‘Your fault?’ She was suddenly animated, and the fire in her eyes warmed him. ‘I can’t begin to understand what it might be like to be in that situation, but I do know that there’s a difference between being the cause and being the culprit.’

  ‘That’s pretty hard to see when you’re in the middle of it all.’ He should give Alice the benefit of the doubt.

  ‘I don’t care if it’s hard. It’s the truth.’

  He’d always known that Laurie spoke her mind, but Ross hadn’t felt the full force of that before. It buoyed him up, relieving him of a little of the guilt that he felt.

  ‘Sorry. That’s just...what I think.’

  ‘Don’t be. I think it’s what I needed to hear. Alice blamed me, and I just agreed with her.’

  Laurie frowned. ‘This is probably the wrong thing to ask, but...’

  The weight lifted a little more. People generally didn’t know what to say in the face of this kind of thing and so they backed off. Laurie was still there with him, and that was a precious thing.

  ‘Ask it anyway.’

  ‘Not everyone plans to have children.’

  ‘May I ask you a personal question?’

  Some of the tension left her brow. ‘I really wish you would. At least I’ll know what to say.’

  The things left unsaid were the things that hurt the most. This was suddenly so very easy.

  ‘What about you? Do you want children?’

  Laurie gave the question some thought. ‘My experience of families isn’t one I’m keen to repeat, and if you’d asked me that a year ago I’d have said that I fought hard enough for my freedom and I’m not giving it up now. I still can’t see it but...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I guess never say never.’ She looked up at him. ‘Only you don’t have that privilege, do you?’

  She understood. ‘No. I don’t.’

  Laurie took his arm ‘I’m so sorry, Ross.’

  The sudden hint of her scent, the feeling of her skin brushing his made Ross recoil. Just that small, friendly gesture made him want to forget all that he knew to be right, and to want more. Laurie jerked away from him, as if he’d burned her.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...’ He could see the hurt look in her eyes and there was only one way to show her what he really did mean. He reached out for her, taking her into his arms.

  ‘This is what you meant?’ She smiled up at him.

  ‘Yeah. This too.’ He brushed a kiss against her cheek.

  ‘Mmm. I like what you’re saying.’ She stretched up, kissing his cheek.

  A whole conversation would have been better. They were alone here, by the shore of the lake, and no one would ever know. Ross could feel his body hardening at the thought and wondered if she felt that too.

  Maybe she did. But it was okay because everything was suddenly okay between them. Everything apart from the misunderstandings and the vain attempts to keep each other at arm’s length.

  ‘Are you going to say it again?’ Her eyes were amber in the sunlight, her hair flaming. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  ‘I shouldn’t...’

  She heaved a mock sigh. ‘Yes, I know. You don’t mess with your staff. Does it make a difference that I’m only part time?’

  Ross chuckled. ‘I’m not sure. It might come under the category of splitting hairs.’

  Laurie grinned. ‘That’s better than a straight-out no. And remember that I’ve been in denial for much of my adult life, so I’m very good at it—’

  She gasped as he stopped her talking with a kiss. One of the sweetest—no, the sweetest—he’d ever experienced. He could feel her fingers clutching at his shoulders, her body pressed against his. Her mouth, and the softness of her skin. When she responded, everything seemed to just fall into place and a bright happiness washed over Ross.

  He told her that she was beautiful, and she sighed. Felt her run her fingers across his shoulders, and was suddenly grateful for all those mornings spent in the gym, because Laurie told him that she approved. Ross kissed her again, knowing that this was the last time.

  ‘Time to go back now?’ When he drew away from her, Laurie understood his meaning.

  ‘There are only so many rules that we can break, Laurie. Too many of them and we’ll end up hurting each other.’

  She nodded, holding her hand out to take his. ‘Then maybe we’ll just walk very slowly back to the car...’

  * * *

  She’d kissed him. Twice. That was a breach of the rules of more than double the severity.

  Because...once might be classed as a mistake, but twice definitely wasn’t. When Ross had kissed her the second time it had felt as if the limits that they’d put on their lives weren’t just wobbling a little, they’d been truly crushed.

  All the same, she didn’t want to take it back. Laurie couldn’t bring herself to regret it either. What she should do was stop it from happening again.

  When they came within sight of the car, he let go of her hand. Started to walk a little further from her, the quirk of his lips sho
wing his regret. They both knew that they couldn’t take this any further.

  ‘As relationships go...’ she smiled up at him ‘...that might have been short, but it was very sweet.’

  Ross chuckled. ‘Are you telling me that you’re breaking up with me? Already?’

  ‘Afraid so. But I really hope we can still be friends. Not just civilised, let’s do this properly friends. Real friends.’

  His eyes softened. ‘That would be my fondest wish.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THIS REALLY SHOULDN’T have worked. Ross had told his secrets, and Laurie hers. They’d kissed and then broken up within the space of half an hour. But somehow it did work. They were building something, learning how to trust and how to work together. And Ross had just learned that no one...no one...could carry off bright yellow feathers in quite the way that Laurie could.

  ‘Ready to go?’ He tried to keep his face straight as he saw her walking out of the front door of the house in her costume for the Lakeside School sports day.

  She pulled the beaked mask up, propping it on top of her head. ‘Yes, I think so. The feathers are fighting back...’ She flapped one arm and a feather drifted upwards then floated back down again, settling on the gravel at their feet. ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t go for different costumes? When I chose these, I was trying to make a point.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Ross feigned innocence. ‘What point was that?’

  ‘Don’t ask. It was a really bad idea. You really don’t need to go as an egg.’

  ‘Too late now. I’m rather looking forward to it. It’s nice that you didn’t go for any of the safe options.’

  ‘I just hope you don’t mind feathers in your car.’ She wriggled suddenly in discomfort and turned her back on him. Ross busied himself with looking the other way.

  ‘Ah, gotcha.’ She turned, to face him again, still buttoning the front of her costume, and held up a feather, a triumphant look on her face. ‘They get everywhere.’

  ‘If you need a hand...’ He probably shouldn’t allow himself to smile when he said that.

  ‘Trust me. You really don’t want to know where they’re ending up.’

  He probably did. Ross dismissed the thought as unworthy of someone who was going to be dressing up as an egg.

  He drove the few miles to the school, with Laurie sitting in the back seat, steadying the egg to stop it from rolling around, and showering feathers in the process. When he parked in the school car park she got out and tried to brush some of the feathers off the seat, only managing to replace them with a new set.

  ‘Don’t worry about that. Best to get all of them in one hit with the vacuum cleaner when we get back.’ He took pity on her frustrated expression. ‘It’s probably because it hasn’t been worn before. All the feathers that are a bit loose are dropping at once, and it’ll stop in a minute.’

  ‘You reckon so?’ She flapped her arms again in a remarkable impression of a chicken. ‘You might be right, it doesn’t seem to be shedding as many now. Will you do me a favour?’

  ‘Sure.’ Anything as long as it didn’t involve feathers inside her costume. Ross didn’t trust himself with that, and having it turn X-rated in a school car park wasn’t the image they were trying to promote.

  ‘If I ever, ever, say that I’m going to choose costumes again, lock me up immediately.’

  Ever. Again. It had a ring of friendship about it that warmed his heart. It was a very fine second-best option.

  ‘It’s a deal.’ He reached into the car, carefully manoeuvring the egg out. It had a shock of painted hair at the top, a wide smile, and a pair of arms folded across its wide stomach. Below that, the yellow and black check that matched his trousers.

  Laurie lifted the egg over his head for him, and he secured the shoulder straps that held it in place. It wobbled a bit when he took a step, but he could see straight ahead of him through the eye-holes. Only Laurie had disappeared...

  ‘You all right in there?’ He felt something brush his knee, and a feathered head appeared, peering up at him from the base of the egg. He chuckled, giving her a thumbs up, and she disappeared again, reappearing in his line of sight and pulling down the chicken mask over the top of her face.

  They walked slowly over to the crowd that had formed at one end of the school sports field. He could hear Laurie’s voice, a little muffled, talking to the kids who ran up to her and they both posed for photographs. He saw Sam doing the same in her blue and white Alice in Wonderland dress, while Jamie looked after their son Timothy. Laurie seemed to be slowly working her way over to them.

  Sam waved, and he heard Laurie complimenting her on her costume. Then a blond head appeared at the bottom of the egg.

  ‘Hey, there, Timothy.’ He smiled down at his godson.

  ‘Uncle Ross!’ Timothy seemed to be intent on climbing up his legs, and there was just about enough room to lift him up in the confined space. The boy wriggled with glee at this amazing adventure, and Ross moved his head so that he could peer out of the eyeholes at his mother.

  ‘Timothy!’ He heard Sam’s voice. ‘Are you there?’

  ‘Shh!’ Ross pressed his finger against his lips and Timothy laughed loudly.

  ‘Come out, come out wherever you are...’ Sam’s voice again, as she pretended to look around for her son, lifting the trailing tablecloth on the drinks table and looking underneath it.

  ‘Where is he?’ Laurie had joined in with the play-acting and was looking around as well. Thrilled with the idea of a talking chicken, Timothy shrieked, and Ross let him down so he could duck under the bottom of the egg.

  ‘Here!’ Timothy ran over to Laurie, and she squatted down, flapping her arms in a very good impression of a chicken. Sam was laughing, and Jamie rapped his knuckles on the side of the egg, shouting a hello.

  The headmistress of the school, dressed in a nineteen-twenties flapper costume, came to welcome them, and the crowd of parents began to disperse towards the seating that was set up at one side of the large playing field. The children were shepherded by their teachers into groups, ready for the races to begin.

  Laurie tapped on the side of his egg, presumably to attract his attention, although in truth Ross’s attention had never left her. That was one of the advantages of coming as an egg, no one could see him stare. She led him over to the seating, and just as Ross was wondering how she was expecting him to sit down, he felt the egg lift a little. He ducked out from under it, and Laurie placed it on a seat and sat down next to it, her arm around it. Ross sat down on the empty seat on the other side.

  ‘This is fun.’ She was grinning out over the sun-drenched sports field.

  ‘Wait till you start getting the questions.’

  She turned to him, pulling the chicken mask up onto the top of her head. ‘What questions? You never told me there were going to be questions.’

  ‘I thought I’d save that as a surprise. I always get one or two questions from parents who’ve decided their seven-year-old is going to be the next world champion.’

  She winced. ‘You’re not going to tell them, are you?’

  ‘What, that you’re a bona fide champion? They’d be fascinated...’ He paused for a moment for effect. ‘Nah. Don’t think so.’

  She fanned her face with her hand with an expression of relief. ‘Just tell them that the best way to make a champion is give them a happy, healthy childhood.’ She seemed to be wrestling with her costume, and was shedding feathers again.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Trying to get to my purse. That chilled lemonade on the drinks stall looks really nice. You want one?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s okay. I think Jo’s heading our way.’ He gestured towards the headmistress, who was walking towards them with two glasses of lemonade.

  ‘Would you like to help give out the medals?’ Jo proffered the lemonade.

  ‘We get to gi
ve out medals? Yes, please,’ Laurie answered before Ross could, and then frowned at the egg. ‘Although I’m not sure how Ross is going to manage with his costume.’

  ‘That’s okay. You give them out, and I’ll just tag along.’

  ‘And the obstacle race?’ Jo eyed the egg.

  ‘I’ll have a go.’ Ross brushed Jo’s reservations aside.

  ‘I’d like to.’ Laurie craned around the egg to look at him. ‘My hip’s fine. I can manage something like that. What do you reckon?’

  Ross decided to ignore the fact that Laurie had actually asked him what he thought, and answered for them both. ‘Two for the obstacle race, Jo.’

  ‘Righty. I’ll call you when it’s your turn.’ Jo ticked the list on her clipboard and hurried away, brushing a yellow feather from her costume.

  More feathers were dislodged during the course of the afternoon as Laurie got to her feet, cheering and clapping all the kids. All the children who competed got a medal, and when it was her turn to give them out, she presented each one of them as if it was a precious recognition of their achievement.

  When she got to the little girl who was looking a little tearful, after having taken a tumble and come in last, Laurie presented her with her medal and then lifted her up in her arms. He turned to see Sam on her feet, cheering and clapping, and everyone else following suit.

  ‘What did you tell her?’ When Laurie helped him off with the egg, and they resumed their seats again, he saw the little girl run over to her parents, proudly showing off the medal that hung around her neck.

  ‘I told her that it was a very special medal, because she’d been brave enough to get up and try again.’

  Ross nodded. ‘That’s nice.’

  And so unlike the woman who’d first walked into the clinic. She’d been quiet, self-contained and focussed. As if the only thing that mattered was winning, whatever she had to sacrifice in order to do it. Ross was proud of the fact that the clinic could work miracles, but this wasn’t one of them. The Laurie who could give a child who’d come last in the race a medal and make her feel like a winner must have been there all the time. And entrancing as the old Laurie had been, this new one was downright irresistible.