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One Step At A Time

Page 2

by Caroline Anderson


  ‘Sore.’

  ‘You would be. Can I get you anything?’

  He shook his head cautiously, then changed his mind.

  ‘Grapes,’ he murmured. ‘You could feed me grapes.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she said with a stab at humour. His mouth twitched lopsidedly. ‘I’ve fantasised about it.’

  She laughed, the sound harsh and brittle to his ears, quite at odds with the gentle murmur of his dream. ‘There’s damn all wrong with you, sunbeam,’ she told him, and eased her fingers away from his. Instantly he missed the contact, and his fingers closed convulsively on the sheet.

  Damn, he hated needing her...

  He remembered something else—something he really did need from her.

  ‘Kate?’

  ‘I’m still here.’

  He didn’t know how to phrase it. Usually he was OK with diplomacy, but just now the ability to think clearly seemed to have escaped him, and with it his subtlety. ‘I need your help,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘Help?’ Lord, the colour that woman could put into one tiny word. Astonishment, disbelief—contempt?

  He expanded a little, groping for the words. ‘Sally’s off.’

  Her brows creased together in puzzlement. ‘Who’s Sally?’

  Dominic struggled for his lost intelligence. ‘One of the doctors. There are three of us—she’s part-time, but her kids are sick with chicken pox. I’m going to need cover, just for a fortnight or so, until I’m up and about again.’

  ‘From me? In the clinic?’ She eyed him sceptically. It was a look he’d come to know—and not to love. ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because it needs to be someone I can trust,’ he told her honestly, without stopping to analyse his words. Pointless anyway. He couldn’t analyse them—couldn’t even find them half the time. That was the pethidine...

  She laughed. ‘Trust?’ she asked softly. ‘Or bully?’

  He felt his mouth tighten—just enough so that the cut and bruised flesh screamed in protest before he remembered and relaxed.

  ‘Don’t play word games with me, Kate,’ he grated. ‘I feel like hell and I’m not enjoying it. If you can’t help me I’ll get someone else.’

  She was quiet for a moment, then he felt the tentative touch of her hand on his. ‘Dominic, I don’t know anything about rehabilitation or pain clinics. I don’t know if I can do it,’ she said softly.

  ‘Of course you can. Another anaesthetist can be called in to do acupuncture or any minor surgical procedures like implants. All you need to do is provide a medical presence—nothing else. But someone ought to be living in, and Jeremy’s wife’s expecting any day now, so he can hardly leave her.’

  He eyed her doubtful face. ‘Jeremy’s very good—he’ll look after you. It would give you a chance to spend some time with Stephie—maybe even have a bit of a holiday together. Your clinic duties would be very limited.’

  He weighed her hesitation, then her hand tightened on his in a gentle squeeze. ‘OK,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll do it—just long enough to give you time to recover, But only if you don’t interfere.’

  He felt his shoulders drop with relief, and some of the pain went out of his chest. Damn, he needed some of his own expertise here, he thought wryly.

  ‘I won’t interfere,’ he promised rashly.

  Was that a sceptical laugh? Damn woman. ‘I’ll bring you some things,’ she was saying. ‘Has someone got a key for your place?’

  His place? He groped in his mind, and then nodded cautiously. ‘At Reception. Mrs Harvey’ll sort you out. I expect all my keys are still with what’s left of that poor bloody car. Did you know they had to cut me out? It’s wrecked.’

  She stood up to go but he reached for her, his fingers fastening on hers like a steel trap. ‘Kate? Don’t tell Stephie yet. I don’t want her worried. The clinic will be fine until Monday. Tell her then.’

  ‘I won’t worry her. I’ll have to tell her before I start work at the clinic, though. Perhaps I’ll bring her to see you tomorrow, when I come back. I expect by then you’ll be feeling more like seeing her.’

  He felt the sweet brush of her lips against his battered cheek and then she was gone, leaving behind only a faint, lingering fragrance and the memory of her touch...

  The doctor was waiting for Kate as she came out. They went into Sister’s office and he snapped some X-ray plates up on the light box. ‘His femur’s the main injury, of course. These are the pictures of it. As you can see, it was undisplaced—which has made managing it much easier than it might have been. He’ll be up and about again very quickly.’

  Kate laughed. ‘For heaven’s sake don’t tell him that or he’ll be up tomorrow. Patience isn’t his strong suit—not with himself, anyway.’

  The doctor smiled understanding, and Kate wondered if he’d already been exposed to Dominic’s ‘patience’.

  ‘He’s slightly concussed, his nose is cracked but not displaced and he’s got various contusions over the trunk and legs, but no further injuries apart from the femur. The operation to pin that this morning was very successful, as I said, and we’ve managed to stabilise the break entirely with a simple pin. He’ll be in for a couple of weeks, maybe three, and then home under supervision with gentle mobilisation and physiotherapy to get him slowly back on his feet. Give him a couple of months and he’ll be fine, all being well. He was very lucky.’

  Kate regarded the young surgeon thoughtfully. Dominic might have been lucky, but anyone involved in his care for the next few months wouldn’t be! The only time she’d ever known him to be ill was when he’d had flu, and he’d been awful—grumpy, difficult, resentful, demanding, terminally frustrated by his inactivity and thoroughly awkward.

  A real peach, in fact.

  Thank God she wasn’t going to be involved this time! Instead she’d be holed up at the clinic, trying to justify his trust in her. Blind faith, he might have said. She had no idea what went on inside the walls of the hall beyond what she had gleaned from reviews in medical journals, and the information in those tended to be scant. Why he felt he could trust her to work there in his absence she couldn’t imagine. Still, he’d said her duties would be strictly limited. She hoped he was right.

  She thanked the doctor for her time and left the hospital, going straight to Stephie’s school to pick her up. She was waiting by the gate, swinging her bag disconsolately from one hand, her face miserable. Oh, Lord, Kate thought, a bad exam. Just what she needed, poor kid.

  She pulled up beside her and reached across, pushing the door open and giving her daughter an encouraging smile. ‘Hi.’

  Stephie threw her bag into the back, narrowly missing Kate’s head, and slumped into the seat. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Kate schooled her features hastily. ‘Tell you what, darling?’

  ‘About Dad’s accident.’ Her voice was accusing, hurt and bewildered. ‘I rang the clinic at lunchtime to leave a message for him to ring me when he had time. Mrs Harvey told me.’

  Kate let out a cautious breath, mentally damning the clinic manager. ‘I was going to tell you.’ ‘When? Next week?’

  It was so close to the truth that Kate flinched. ‘Your father said—’

  Stephie snorted. ‘Why didn’t you tell me last night?’ she asked bitterly. ‘You could have told me—I’m not a child any more. I thought something was wrong.’

  Kate studied her hands, lying loosely on the steering wheel. Funny, they looked relaxed. How deceptive appearances could be. ‘I didn’t want to worry you till your exams were over. Anyway, I’ve seen him this afternoon and he’s OK.’

  ‘Can we go now? I want to see him.’

  She hesitated. ‘He had an operation this morning to fix his leg. He’s probably not feeling too good.’

  ‘I want to go now. I want to see him,’ her daughter repeated stubbornly.

  Kate looked at her watch. ‘We could go and pick up some things for him from the clinic, then go back for a little while—’

  ‘Well, co
me on, then,’ Stephie urged. ‘Let’s get to it.’

  She got to it. They drove up the A12 and turned off, heading out into the open country past a little town, then another village, then in front of them was a gateway and a large sign that read, ‘Heywood Hall—Rehabilitation Centre and Pain Clinic. Fitness Club’. Dominic’s baby, she thought, and felt a sudden pang of doubt. Could she do it? She didn’t have the slightest idea of what would be expected of her, what sort of patients it treated or the methods used, except that it was highly successful and had swallowed Dominic body and soul for the past few years.

  How lucky he was to have such a glorious setting for his dream, and to have inherited the gracious elegance of the enormous house that was not only his place of work but had been home to a branch of his family for generations. Not that she begrudged him it. He had worked enormously hard, she recognised, and if anybody deserved his success and his unexpected heritage it was Dominic.

  And the end result was that he had a career to be proud of, and a sense of real achievement to take to bed at night.

  Whereas she had a succession of locum jobs carefully fitted round the school holidays, and scarcely ever the chance to. follow a patient through to the end of a course of treatment. She didn’t envy him the house, but the job—oh, yes.

  With a little pang of regret for what she had lost and might have had, Kate turned the car through the gateway by the pretty little lodge cottage and drove up the immaculate tarmacked drive sheltered by huge old trees. It wound up through rolling parkland, coming to an end at the lovely, gracious house that presided over the ancient trees and gazed out in regal splendour across the park to the little town on the hill beyond.

  It hadn’t always looked like this. When Dominic had inherited it unexpectedly six years ago, it had been tired and run down, desperately neglected by several generations and in need of a massive capital injection. Unbelievably that capital injection had been found—some left to him, much more, she gathered, by sleight of hand and judicious asset-stripping—until Dominic had been in a position to put enough forward so that the bank had been convinced and lent the balance.

  And now, she thought as she came to rest in the paved area beside the house, it was a thriving business with an international reputation and a huge amount of professional respect.

  She was proud of him—but there was no place here for her. There hadn’t been any place for her with him, in any part of his life, for the past twelve years. Only through Stephie did they have any contact. Dominic hadn’t wanted her, and he hadn’t needed her.

  Until now.

  She sighed. Maybe not even now, if she fouled up.

  ‘Wait here, I’ll get the key,’ she told Stephie, but she was talking to an empty seat. Her daughter was up and gone, long hair flying, slender legs flashing past the bonnet as she streaked over the path towards the house.

  Kate followed her slowly, going through the huge, imposing entrance into the lovely, airy reception hall. It was cool and peaceful, the flowers fresh and sweet-smelling, and an elegant woman in a smartly tailored suit was hugging Stephie and greeting her with obvious affection.

  As she released Stephie she looked up at Kate curiously.

  ‘Dr Heywood?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Kate glanced at the name tag on the woman’s lapel and shook her hand. ‘Hello, Mrs Harvey. I’ve come for the keys to Dominic’s house. He wants some things, and his car keys and house keys are at the garage with his car.’

  Stephie was heading off towards the grounds. ‘I’ll see you at Dad’s in a minute, Mum. I just want to find the cats.’

  She ran off, leaving Kate alone with the hesitating Mrs Harvey, who was clearly torn. ‘I ought to come with you, but I can’t leave Reception at the moment,’ she said worriedly. ‘I’m waiting for an important call about a locum. This accident really couldn’t have come at a worse time.’ Her brow creased and she gave the phone an anxious glance.

  ‘Why don’t you ring them and cancel it? Dominic’s asked me to do the locum cover,’ Kate informed the astonished woman. ‘I start on Monday.’

  Mrs Harvey’s eyes widened. ‘You?’ she gasped. ‘Are you able to—I mean, can you do it? Do you know how?’

  Kate smiled confidently, although the woman’s words echoed her own thoughts exactly.

  ‘Of course I can do it—at least the day-to-day things. He’s arranged an anaesthetist to do the specialised work.’ The key hovered in Mrs Harvey’s hand and Kate leant forwards and plucked it from her fingers.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Harvey. I won’t steal the silver,’ she said drily, and, turning on her heel, she went back out into the July sunshine and took a lungful of fresh air.

  She felt unwanted and out of place. She probably was. Dominic’s ex-wife was hardly the ideal choice of locum! Well, tough. He had asked her, he had faith in her—it was his mistake.

  And as Dominic didn’t admit to his mistakes it wouldn’t be a problem. He would have no choice but to back his decision to the hilt. Anyway, he’d promised not to interfere.

  ‘Stephanie,’ she called, and set out through the grounds for the two-storey redbrick house they called Garden Cottage.

  It was lovely, the garden a mass of roses, and although much simpler than the gracious and elegant hall, it appealed more to Kate’s taste.

  It was also, she knew, to Dominic’s taste, and she thought sadly that there, at least, they had always agreed. Both of them had a preference for the simple, humble things of life. Bar the car, Dominic was probably the least ostentatious person she knew.

  Without waiting for Stephie she went through the ground floor and located his bedroom by trial and error. She knew it was downstairs because Stephie had told her about the French doors that opened directly into the garden, and how he slept with them open at night.

  It was typical of Dominic. He loved scents and sounds and textures. She’d often thought that, should he ever go blind, he would probably be able to cope better than most, because his appreciation of his other senses was already so enhanced.

  Touch, for instance...

  She dragged her eyes from the huge old bed and scanned the room for a likely hiding place. ‘Where do you keep your pyjamas, Dominic?’ she murmured, and began opening drawers.

  They were tidy—not obsessively so, just neat and practical—and totally devoid of pyjamas.

  She shrugged and fished out some T-shirts instead, and some boxer shorts that she tried not to think about too much as she laid them on the bed. Wash things she found in the adjoining bathroom, and as the huge bath set into the floor made her blink she reminded herself that Dominic’s private life was just exactly that—and nothing to do with her any longer. Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder if he entertained in it...

  Stephie arrived in time to find her closing the case she’d found in the top of a cupboard.

  ‘I couldn’t find pyjamas,’ she told her daughter.

  ‘You won’t—he sleeps in the raw.’

  Kate, ridiculously, felt a flush crawl over her skin. He had always worn pyjamas before—but they had been living with her parents. Had she ever known the real Dominic?

  She turned to Stephie. ‘Do you suppose there are any grapes in the clinic kitchen?’ she asked impulsively.

  ‘Grapes? Yeah, sure. I’ll get some. Are you done here?’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yes. I’ll lock up and meet you at the car.’

  She returned the key to the doubting Mrs Harvey, and then strolled over the grass towards her car. As she did so a harassed young man in a white coat approached her.

  ‘Excuse me—are you Mrs Heywood?’

  She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Yes—yes, I am.’

  He stuck out his hand. ‘I’m Jeremy Leggatt. I’m one of the doctors attached to the clinic.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Jeremy. I’m Kate.’

  The worry in his eyes moderated a touch at her friendly greeting. Not completely, though. He said, ‘I gather your husband’s asked you to cover for
him for a while?’

  She didn’t bother to correct him, by putting in the ‘ex’.

  ‘Yes, he has,’ she told him. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

  He laughed. ‘Problem? No way—unless you said no?’

  She smiled. ‘I didn’t.’ Jeremy gave an exaggerated sigh and she chuckled. ‘Did you think I might?’

  ‘I had no idea, but we’re so short-staffed that if you had said no I’m afraid he would have discharged himself and limped back, broken leg and all.’

  Kate didn’t doubt it for a moment.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed, ‘I start on Monday. I think he thought it would be tidier if it was me rather than a total stranger.’

  ‘Keep it in the family, you mean?’

  Kate smiled. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘How does he feel about it? I mean, I know you’re—um—’ The young doctor floundered to an embarrassed halt.

  ‘Divorced? Yes, we are. However, we’re also both perfectly civilised and professional people, and apparently Dominic would rather it was me than anybody else. After all, he can throw his weight around with me and I won’t walk off. Nobody else would stay for a moment.’

  The doctor looked even more embarrassed.

  Kate grinned. ‘Look, let’s be honest. Dominic can’t delegate, and he can’t abide having decisions made for him. He’s also the absolute pits when he’s ill. Trust me, nobody else would stay the course.’

  Jeremy looked hugely relieved. ‘If you’re sure,’ he told her.

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘It’s probably best if it is you, of course, because it means Stephie can be here as usual for the holidays and there won’t be a stranger in the cottage.’

  ‘Cottage?’ A cold feeling struck her, running through her throat like fingers of dread.

  ‘Yes—Dominic’s cottage. You’ll have to stay there—there isn’t any other accommodation. All the rest is full.’

  Kate closed her eyes for a second. Dominic’s cottage, filled with scent from his garden and stamped indelibly with his personality...

  Could she do it?

  ‘Kate? Are you all right?’

  She opened her eyes. ‘I’m fine. I was just considering options.’

 

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