Tempting Dr. Templeton

by Judy Campbell

  Discomfited, she flicked a quick look at her watch. ‘Do…do you mind if we go back? I want to be near Amy when she wakes up.’

  Andy stood up abruptly. ‘Of course you do. Let’s get going.’

  Gareth was already with Amy when they returned. He straightened up from examining her and turned to Rosie with an encouraging smile.

  ‘Your little girl’s certainly doing much better—even after so short a time her chest sounds less noisy. We’d like to keep her in for at least one night, however, and reassess her in the morning. We’ve got a little side ward we could put her in and a rather uncomfortable bed that you could sleep on by her side. I think you’d want to be with her, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Rosie gratefully. ‘That would be marvellous.’ She glanced at her peacefully sleeping daughter. ‘If I could just slip home and collect some things while she’s asleep—and leave a note for Lily so that she knows what’s going on.’ She gave a little giggle. ‘I left a flooding washing machine and a dog in the kitchen—and I should think the plumber I requested has been and gone in disgust!’

  Both men laughed and Gareth turned to Andy and punched his arm. ‘So, you old reprobate—still the fittest man on the block?’ He winked at Rosie. ‘This guy’s some athlete! At med school he was on every team we had except the ballroom formation dancing team!’

  It was Rosie’s turn to laugh. ‘Then he should have been,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen him dance, and he’s pretty good!’

  She coloured suddenly. That had been the night she’d first met Andy—the night she’d let her emotions take over her senses! Neither man seemed to notice her discomfort.

  ‘It’s good to catch up with you again, Andy. You must come and see Laura, and our four little horrors.’ Gareth shot a look at his watch, and looked apologetically at Rosie. ‘Sorry. I’ve got to fly. I’ll be back to look at Amy later on. In the meantime, I’ve promised to play cricket with my two oldest and about twenty of the neighbours’ children!’

  They watched him as he strode away. ‘He seems a lovely man,’ remarked Rosie wistfully. ‘His children are so lucky to have him as a father.’

  Andy chuckled. ‘Couldn’t have a better! I must say I admire people who have big families—I don’t know how they cope! I think you and I find our single offspring enough, don’t we?’

  She gave a faint smile. ‘You’re probably right. Anyway, I must get home now and sort out the plumber and some overnight things while Amy’s still asleep.’

  ‘Let’s go, then!’

  By the next morning, Amy was a different child, standing up against the cot side and bouncing up and down on the mattress with gurgles of laughter.

  ‘What a relief!’ said Rosie to the nurse who had just taken Amy’s temperature. ‘She looked so ill yesterday. I can’t believe she’s her bright self again so quickly!’

  The nurse smiled and stroked Amy’s springy curls back from her forehead. ‘She’s beautiful—such lovely big brown eyes. It’s really rewarding when they respond so quickly to treatment.’

  Amy gave a little hiccup and then giggled, throwing herself back on the mattress with a little shriek.

  ‘Doesn’t seem much wrong with this little girl now,’ remarked a deep voice behind Rosie.

  Gareth was standing behind her, watching Amy with a benevolent smile. ‘I’ll have a quick listen to her chest, and if that sounds OK I think you can take her home.’

  It was quite evident that Amy was nearly back to full and blooming health. Gareth stuffed his stethoscope back in his pocket. ‘I’d keep her quiet for a day or two, but I feel no qualms about letting her go home. Is Andy taking you back?’

  ‘No, I’ve got my own car with me.’ She held out her hand to Gareth. ‘Thank you so much for taking care of Amy for me. I can’t believe she’s improved so much in twenty-four hours!’

  ‘Our pleasure.’ He smiled. ‘I’m glad Andy’s working around here now—I’ll bag him for a game of golf some time. He’s a great guy.’ His eyes twinkled at her. ‘How wonderful that you and he have got together after the tragedy of his broken marriage to that selfish Sonia.’

  Rosie opened her mouth to refute Gareth’s assumption that she and Andy were an item, then closed it again as he continued earnestly, obviously under the impression that she knew about Andy’s background.

  ‘It’s even worse that his little boy is so far away when Keiron is really the centre of Andy’s world. I suppose he wanted Keiron to be with his mother and not suffer as he did when he was a little boy. I think he must have been very unhappy, don’t you?’ He paused for a second as if reflecting on his friend’s life, then remarked, ‘That’s probably why Andy once told me he’d rather lost faith in long-term relationships—but I’m so glad he changed his mind,’ he said warmly.

  Rosie’s heart missed a beat, and her mouth went dry—her suspicions had been right, then! Gareth had known Andy before she did and he’d know what he was talking about. She had to stop looking for a future between her and Andy.

  A numbness crept through her body. Somehow the confirmation of her suspicions was too depressing to take in. Carefully she kept her face neutral. ‘It does seem hard that Andy isn’t near his son,’ she remarked tonelessly. ‘I couldn’t bear to be parted from Amy.’

  Gareth’s words echoed in Rosie’s head as she negotiated the winding bends back home, and various comments Andy had made seemed suddenly to fall into place. He’d revealed that he’d had a stepmother, and maybe that was why he was so upset that his ex-wife was getting married again. Did an unhappy childhood with a step-parent make him fear for his own child’s happiness?

  She unclipped Amy from her safety seat and carried her up the path, feeling a hollowness inside her. From the night they’d first met, she had allowed Andy to fill her thoughts and dreams as no other man had done since Tony had died—what a fool she’d been. Now it was blindingly obvious to her that nobody could ever be an adequate mother substitute for Keiron or restore Andy’s faith in women!

  ‘I think Andy is determined to be everything to his son,’ she murmured to herself as she opened the front door. ‘A stepmother for his child would never be an option.’ She brushed Amy’s curls back from her forehead and added rather wistfully, ‘But I wouldn’t mind finding a daddy for you, darling. I think it would be a wonderful thing for both of us!’

  Amy twined her arms round Rosie’s neck as her mother carried her through to the kitchen. ‘Yes! Find a daddy!’ she shouted. ‘Let Andy be the daddy! Nice Andy!’

  Rosie put Amy on the floor with her bag of building bricks, and shook her head sadly. Andrew Templeton was far too committed to his own son to be anybody else’s father!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘IT REALLY isn’t good enough is it? Ninety-three missed appointments last month—we’ll have to do something about it!’ Ben looked over his glasses at Andy and Rosie. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘What about a notice to that effect put up in the surgery? Might jolt a few people,’ suggested Rosie.

  The three doctors were having a quick midmorning meeting to discuss the continuing problem of patients who didn’t turn up for their appointments. As Ben put it, ‘A waste of money, time and resources.’

  ‘I don’t think Rosie’s suggestion would be punchy enough,’ remarked Andy. ‘I think a letter to persistent offenders with a warning that we might not be able to treat them in the future might be more effective. I had a patient here yesterday demanding an urgent consultation when he’d just ignored his appointment the day before—and no apology or explanation!’

  ‘It’s worth trying. What do you think, Rosie?’

  ‘I think it’s a good idea. Perhaps we can reassess it in a month?’

  She smiled coolly at Andy, trying to ignore the quick somersault her stomach performed when his dancing eyes met hers. Today, she said firmly to herself, was the start of her new resolution to keep her feelings for him at bay. After Gareth’s revelation about Andy’s troubled past, she owed it to herself and lit
tle Amy not to think of Andy as part of her future.

  ‘Well, I’m off,’ remarked Ben, lumbering out of his JUDY CAMPBELL 125 chair. ‘I’ll see you later at the trust’s meeting this lunchtime.’

  Andy lifted a large armful of paper onto Rosie’s desk. ‘I picked these up on the way in—all your e-mail blood tests and biopsy results. I know you’ll be longing to plough through them!’

  Rosie nodded, not reacting to his lopsided grin, and said briskly, ‘Thank you—I’ll deal with them later.’

  ‘Would a coffee help to start with?’

  Rosie swallowed and closed her eyes for a second. Normally she’d be dying for a cup of restorative black coffee, but unaccountably the thought of having one at the moment made her feel distinctly queasy.

  ‘No…not at the moment, thanks. Perhaps later on, when I’ve been on some visits and sorted through these tests.’

  The terseness of her tone made him flick a puzzled look at her.

  ‘Things all right, are they? Amy back to full form?’

  ‘Yes. Absolutely fine! She seems to have forgotten completely about being ill, and trotted off very happily to Veronica’s today.’ There was a slight pause, then Rosie added almost reluctantly, ‘I really was grateful to you the other day. It was…very kind of you to cover for me and take us to hospital.’

  Andy leaned forward on the desk and looked gravely at her. ‘If you’re ever in trouble, Rosie, you must tell me. I’m always here for you.’

  Rosie smiled faintly to herself. The truth was, he wouldn’t always be there for her. He’d been a rock for her the other day, but his son would always be his first priority. It wouldn’t be right to rely on Andy whenever she needed help.

  ‘Now,’ added Andy cheerily, folding his arms, ‘if you remember, you promised to come with me to the beach—you, Amy and Lily. How about the day after tomorrow? We both have half days then. The forecast is very good and I’m an expert at castle-making!’

  Rosie hesitated a second. It was true, she had agreed to an expedition to the beach, and Amy would love it. But was it wise? More little strands to entwine him round her heart.

  ‘Well?’ he said, smiling, waiting for her answer.

  ‘I….I don’t know…’ she said cautiously, ‘The next few days are very busy, and I don’t want to arrange something that I might have to cancel.’

  His face darkened somewhat and his voice was reproachful. ‘You did promise, you know. I thought you kept your promises!’

  Rosie bit her lip. ‘Well…perhaps, if the weather’s really nice.’

  He looked at her quizzically. ‘You sound less than enthusiastic. You might quite enjoy it, you know!’ He paused for a second, a frown creasing his brow. ‘Is there something wrong, Rosie, something I should know about?’

  ‘No…nothing’s wrong. Of course we’ll enjoy it…’ Rosie felt contrite. Common courtesy dictated that she should fulfil her promises after his kindness to her.

  ‘Then I’ll let you get on. Speak to you later.’

  He swung out of the room and Rosie stared after his retreating figure and sighed. The day ahead promised to be incredibly busy, and the last thing she wanted was bad feeling between her and Andy to worry her. After her visits there was a lunchtime meeting with the primary care trust to discuss networking the area health agencies on their computer systems. Then she had a few hours off to catch up on paperwork and check the test results that had arrived that day. Finally—and this had been weighing on her mind since the moment she’d got up—she had the most daunting part of the day to get through when she’d finished work. In an unguarded moment, she’d promised Lily that she would help out at the fashion show!

  ‘Why on earth did I let her talk me into that?’ Rosie groaned to herself. ‘I must have been mad to have allowed myself to weaken, just because I felt sorry for her not having enough models!’

  The charity show had assumed the proportions of a nightmare for Lily.

  ‘Three of the models are off now for one reason or another,’ she’d fretted. ‘I’ve never had such a disaster. Normally it’s one of the biggest money-raising occasions in Porlstone and now it looks like it’ll be a complete non-event!’

  She had looked so pathetic, her little figure hunched and her normally happy face so woebegone, that Rosie’s heart had melted.

  ‘If I can be of any help, I will…’ she’d said hesitatingly.

  ‘Oh, darling, will you?’ Lily had exclaimed eagerly, seizing on her offer. ‘You’d make the most heavenly model—especially for the evening wear, with your wonderful colouring. You’ll look a princess…and, of course, the money is going towards the Porlstone Hospital renal unit, so it could help your patients!’

  Rosie had opened her mouth to protest that she hadn’t intended to volunteer to be a model, then she’d closed it again. She owed Lily a lot—surely she could put herself out a little for a few hours for her aunt’s sake? She could only hope she wouldn’t trip over going down the catwalk in one of Lily’s gorgeous gowns and make a complete fool of herself!

  Maria’s voice came over the intercom, cutting into her thoughts. ‘I’ve got the community nurse on the phone,’ she informed Rosie. ‘She’d like to speak to you urgently.’

  Rosie took the call. ‘Got a problem, Kay?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m at Mrs Joan Duthie’s house.’ The calm, no-nonsense voice of Kay Smith, the community nurse, came briskly over the phone. ‘Her father, Bert Lavin, is a patient—you remember he came to stay with his daughter for a while to get his medicines sorted out? I’m on a routine visit, and I’m afraid that just before I arrived, Bert died after what was probably a sudden myocardial infarction. Could you come round and certify the death? I think Joan would be glad to see you.’

  As always, when she heard of the death of a patient, Rosie felt a pang of sadness. ‘I’m sorry about that, Kay, but not surprised. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. I’m so glad you’re with Joan at the moment.’

  As she drove out of the car park, Rosie reflected that although it had been clear over the last few weeks that he was nearing the end of his life, she would miss Bert’s sparky and independent personality. Of course, birth and death were part of her job, some aspects much sadder than others, and it was something that as a GP she had to get used to. But at least Bert had had a long life, and they’d enjoyed many laughs together, and the end had been mercifully quick for him. With a wry smile she recalled Andy’s first day at the practice, and his insistence on accompanying her to protect her from Bert’s dogs!

  ‘I’m so glad it was you who came,’ said Joan tearfully, as she let Rosie into the house. ‘I wanted someone who’d cared for him to see him and certify his death. He was really fond of you, Dr Loveday.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, Joan,’ said Rosie, squeezing her arm comfortingly. ‘He was a lovely old gentleman, and I enjoyed being his doctor. He had a grand sense of humour and endured these last few months very stoically.’

  Bert was lying on the bed in the little spare room, a faded photo of his wedding day by his bed. Two army medals hung over another picture of Bert as a young man with folded arms dressed in football gear with his team.

  Joan saw Rosie looking at them and smiled. ‘They rather sum up my dad’s life—a happy marriage, good service in the war and great times with his mates on the pitch.’

  ‘A full life,’ observed Rosie, as she bent down and put her finger on his carotid artery, listening through her stethoscope for any heartbeat. She lifted his eyelids and noted the dilated pupils and their lack of response to light.

  She stood up and put her arm around Joan. ‘He looks very peaceful, doesn’t he? I think he would have died very quickly, and felt little pain. His failing heart was beginning to cause all kinds of problems for him.’

  Joan dabbed her eyes. ‘For his sake, it’s a relief really,’ she whispered. ‘But it’s awful to realise that all that generation has gone in my family—now I’ve no one older than me to go to for advice!’

  ‘He’
ll leave a great gap for you, Joan. But you did so well, looking after him these past weeks.’

  Joan smiled a watery smile. ‘He was an old devil,’ she said affectionately, ‘but I’m so pleased he agreed to stay with me at the end.’

  She led the way into the kitchen, and Kay Smith appeared with two large cups of tea.

  ‘Now, sit down, Joan, and get this down you,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ve had a terrible shock. Would you like me to phone your family for you—or anyone else, like a neighbour who could come and sit with you?’

  Joan looked at her gratefully—someone taking charge with practical help was of great comfort.

  ‘Perhaps you could tell my son,’ she said falteringly. ‘His number’s on the pad. He’ll come over.’

  Rosie was filling in the death certificate. ‘Because I’ve been looking after Bert and visiting him every week, I’m certain that the cause of death was his heart,’ she explained gently to Joan. ‘There won’t be a need to inform the coroner’s office in this case.’

  ‘I’ll wait till my son comes, then, and he can make all the arrangements.’ Joan managed a brave smile. ‘Thank you so much, Dr Loveday.’

  Sad though she was about Bert’s death, the sparkling beauty of the early summer morning lifted Rosie’s spirits as she drove back to Porlstone. Through the fields she caught an occasional glimpse of the sea, as blue as a periwinkle, and it reminded her that in two days Andy was taking them all to the beach. Whatever she felt about being with him, Amy and Lily would love the afternoon out—she would just have to keep her own feelings in check. In time she’d get used to suppressing that lick of fire she felt every time she saw Andy. In time you could get used to anything—couldn’t you?

  Suddenly all thoughts of Andy were banished as a large, jagged pothole on a bend and at the side of the road took her completely by surprise. The car crashed in and out of the hole, the steering became as heavy as a steamroller’s and there was an ominous flapping sound coming from the rear as the car slowly ground to a halt. Rosie gave an exasperated glance at her watch. Just when she wanted to be on time for the meeting before tackling the afternoon’s work, this had to happen!