Caroline Anderson, Anne Fraser, Kate Hardy, Margaret McDonagh Read online

  ‘Any idea of the cause?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not as yet. They’re looking into it—she’s having an echocardiogram and a carotid scan, and she’s on a monitor, but so far they’ve drawn a blank. Her blood pressure’s dreadful, too, and she’s put on weight. Her diet’s always been atrocious—she’s addicted to chocolate, always has been, and the only reason she isn’t enormous is that she hardly eats anything else. God alone knows what Jamie’s been surviving on, there’s no food in the house to speak of, and she’s obviously depressed.’

  ‘We’ll sort her out, Sam, once she’s home. Don’t worry. And how’s your brother coping?’

  Sam turned away from the window and eased into a chair with a sigh, toying with one of Hazel’s biscuits. ‘By running away from it, I think, but he’s been worrying her for a while. He’s a nightmare. It’s all too familiar, I’m afraid. Been there, done that, as the saying goes. I gather he’s in trouble with the police as well, just to add insult to injury.’

  ‘He is. He’s got in with a bad crowd—Gary Lovelace amongst others.’

  Sam frowned. ‘Lovelace?’

  ‘Yes—do you remember him? Proper little tearaway as a child, and he’s no better now. He’s a year older than Jamie, I think.’

  He trawled his brains. ‘I remember the name—probably the father’s. Always in and out of the slammer for one thing or another. Petty stuff mostly, if I remember. So Gary’s leading my little brother astray, is he? Damn.’

  ‘I think he’s willing to be led,’ Nick said wryly. ‘I’ve tried, Sam. I can’t get through to him. I don’t know him like I knew you—because my children have all grown up now, I hardly see his generation, whereas you were always in the house—usually in the kitchen eating us out of house and home or getting up to mischief in the garden. I can remember a few spontaneous bonfires…’

  He gave Nick a crooked grin over the rim of his mug. ‘Hmm. My SAS phase. Sorry about that.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. You never really did any harm, and you were always welcome. Annabel had a really soft spot for you, you know.’

  He met Nick’s eyes with a pensive smile. ‘I was very fond of her. You must miss her.’

  ‘I do. She was a good woman. She used to worry about you, you know, and how your mother relied on you so heavily. It was no wonder you went off the rails. You had more than enough on your plate.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that doesn’t change, does it? I can’t believe I’m back picking up the pieces all over again.’

  ‘I can. You were a good boy, and you’ve turned into a good man, just as I knew you would.’

  ‘Oh, that’s just so much bull, Nick, and you know it. I wouldn’t be here at all if I had the slightest damned excuse to get away.’

  ‘Yes, you would—and your mother needs you. She misses you. Lots of people do.’

  He gave a wry snort. ‘Hardly. They all remember me as a hell-raiser. Even Doris Trefusis tore me off a strip on the way in, and I have no doubt Audrey Baxter won’t waste a moment telling me I’m not welcome home.’

  ‘Ah, no—you’ll be spared that one. Mrs Baxter died in the flood.’

  ‘Really? Poor woman.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Not that she’d say that about me. She was always horrible to me—she made damn sure everyone knew everything I ever did, to the point that I used to do things in front of her and place bets with myself that my mother would know before I got home.’

  ‘You were just misunderstood.’

  He wasn’t so sure about that. He grunted and looked around, not wanting to get into the past he was so keen to avoid. ‘So—what’s going on here? It looks a bit different to the last time I saw it. I haven’t been in here since I did work experience when your brother was the GP.’

  ‘Well, it’s certainly changed since then. We reopened it five years ago.’ He paused, his face troubled, and Sam realised he looked suddenly a great deal older. As well he might. Then he seemed to pull himself together and stood up. ‘Come and have a look round. I doubt if you’ll recognise it now. We’ve extended out the back, built a new minor injuries unit and X-ray and plaster rooms, but we’re also planning to build another extension on the side into what used to be Althorps’. The boatyard burned down in September, and it worked in our favour because we were able to buy part of the site—do you remember Kate Althorp? James’s widow?’

  ‘Vaguely. I know the name and I remember James dying in the storm.’

  A quick frown flitted across Nick’s brow. ‘Yes. Well, her brother-in-law wanted to sell up, and without the income Kate’s half was redundant, so they cashed in on the insurance and sold the site. We bought enough land at the side of the surgery to extend it further, and to provide some more consulting rooms so we can extend the facilities offered by the MIU, which will give us a much better use of our space here. Come and see. You’ll be impressed, I hope.’

  He was—but he wasn’t fooled. Nick was angling, but Sam wasn’t biting. Under any other circumstances—but they weren’t. They were what they were, and what they were was too damned hard to contemplate. They were standing at the top of the stairs discussing Nick’s vision for the future of the surgery as a multi-disciplinary health centre with dental and osteopathy services when Nick was called to the phone, and he left Sam there and went into a consulting room to take the call.

  And Gemma, who’d been the one to find Nick and tell him he was wanted on the phone, was left standing there with Sam, her soft grey-blue eyes wary, her body language defensive. As if he was in some way a threat.

  That was a laugh. She was far more of a threat to him than he would ever be to her. She was the one who’d walked away.

  He held her eyes, hardening himself to the expression in them, refusing to be drawn in. ‘My mother said you were back.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been working here for a year now. How is she, Sam? Nick said she was improving.’

  ‘Doing really well. Rather shocked, I think. We all are. She’s only fifty-seven.’

  ‘I know, but she’s had high blood pressure for years, and her diet’s a bit lacking.’

  ‘What, in anything other than chocolate?’ he said with a wry grin, and then felt his heart turn over when she smiled back. Oh, God, he wanted her—wanted to haul her into his arms, up against his chest and bury his nose in that thick, soft waterfall of hair, to breathe her in and see if she still smelled the same.

  ‘She said you’re still single,’ he told her with an edge to his voice, and the smile faded instantly as she looked away.

  ‘Well, we both know that’s not true,’ she said under her breath.

  ‘I never could work it out. All this time, and you haven’t asked for a divorce. And I wonder why not.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t, either.’

  ‘No. It’s not really been an issue. I’ve been busy.’ Busy trying to forget her, busy pretending to himself that he didn’t need a social life, that his marriage was just on hold and one day…

  ‘I gathered. In Africa, saving the world. So how did you fall off this bike?’

  ‘Oh, you know me—always taking risks, pushing my luck, playing the fool.’

  ‘You’re thirty, Sam. Isn’t it time you grew up and stopped worrying your mother sick?’

  He swallowed. Oh, he was grown up. He’d grown up the day he’d come home late from work with a bunch of flowers for her and found her letter.

  Nick returned from taking his call. ‘Sorry about that. Right, where were we?’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it. Send Linda my love,’ Gemma said, and fled back into her room, her heart pounding, her legs like jelly and her stupid, stupid hormones racing through her body and dragging it from an elevenyear slumber into vibrant, screaming wakefulness…

  ‘So—what do you think of the set-up?’

  Nick had concluded his guided tour after a walk through the minor injuries suite downstairs and a quick chat with Lauren, the physio, a local girl whom Sam vaguely remembered, and they were back in Reception when Nick asked the question,
his expression hopeful despite the simple words.

  Except of course there was nothing simple about them, and it didn’t take a genius to read the sub-text.

  ‘Excellent—but I’m not falling for it, Nick,’ Sam said softly. ‘I don’t want to work here.’ Not with Gemma.

  ‘Why? You need a job, we need a doctor. Your mother and brother need you and, frankly, looking at you, I reckon you need us. Can’t I talk you into it—at least for a few weeks until we can get someone to take over? We’d be hugely grateful, and it would give you something productive to do while your mother recovers.’

  ‘I’ve got plenty to do. The garden can’t have been touched for years—’

  ‘Gardening leave?’ Nick said softly, his eyes mocking. ‘At least think about it. Maybe it’s time to come home, Sam.’

  But then Gemma came downstairs again, and their eyes locked and pain lanced through him.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he muttered, and, turning on his heel, he crossed the reception area in two strides and slapped the swing door out of his way.

  Then and only then did he breathe again…

  She didn’t know how she got through the rest of the day.

  Sam had left the building, but his aura hung in the air, his presence filling every corner and bringing a huge lump to her throat every time she allowed herself the luxury of thinking of him.

  Not that she had much time, because she had a busy afternoon surgery and afterwards she was due to go up to the high school for a careers evening. And on her way home to change, of course, she had to drive past his mother’s house, and his car was on the drive. At least she assumed it was his car, because it had a hire-car logo in the window.

  Oh, why was she so fixated on him? She couldn’t afford to let herself do this. He was passing through, doing what he’d done over and over again, coming back only for long enough to do what was necessary and this time, just for good measure, tearing the scab off her wounded heart.

  If she let him. She didn’t have to, of course. She could keep him firmly at a distance. She’d heard Nick ask him to stay, seen him leave the building as if it were on fire.

  Sam wouldn’t be staying.

  And she wouldn’t be letting him into her heart.

  ‘Sam! Hello, darling, I hoped you’d come.’

  ‘Hiya. How are you? You sound better—your speech is much clearer. That’s fantastic.’ He brushed a kiss over his mother’s drooping cheek—was it less no-ticeable?—and eased himself down into the chair beside her bed. ‘I’ve brought you some grapes.’

  ‘Not chocolate?’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘No, Mum, not chocolate. Grapes are good for you and, besides, I like them.’ He helped himself to a handful and settled back in the chair, one foot crossed over the other knee. ‘Anyway, I want to talk to you. About Jamie.’

  ‘Oh, Sam, where is he?’ she slurred, her eyes welling. ‘I thought you’d bring him.’

  ‘No, sorry, I had to walk the dog, and when I got back he’d gone out—he sent me a text, though. He had to be at school, he said.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to see me.’

  He didn’t tell her that the thought had occurred to him, too. ‘No, it’s legit. I rang the school—it’s a careers evening and he’s apparently volunteered to help out. I’m going over there as soon as I leave you to make sure he’s there and talk to the staff.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘Mmm. I’m sure they’ll have lots to say, but so have I. Don’t worry, I’ll sort Jamie out. You just concentrate on getting better.’

  She gave a funny little laugh, then her face creased. ‘How’s Digger? Does he miss me?’

  Sam smiled. ‘I think he does, but he’s enjoying his walks. We had a lovely run on the beach this morning at dawn.’ Down to the other beach, to sit on the stumps of the old cabin and torture himself with the memories…

  ‘Don’t let him off the lead. He’ll go down a hole.’

  Sam laughed softly. ‘I do remember you telling me how he got his name. I’ll keep him on the lead, don’t worry.’

  ‘So—did you go to the surgery?’ she asked after the slightest pause, and he braced himself for the inevitable questions.

  ‘Yes, I saw Nick.’

  ‘And Gemma?’

  He felt his mouth tighten and consciously relaxed it. ‘Yes, I saw Gemma. She sends her love. She seems to know you quite well.’

  ‘Oh, she does. She runs the cont…’

  She trailed off, exasperated by her uncooperative tongue, and Sam put in, ‘The continuing care clinic?’

  ‘Mmm. She does my blood pressure. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Pretty girl.’

  ‘I didn’t notice,’ he lied. ‘I was a bit busy.’

  God, it was a wonder his nose wasn’t longer than

  Pinocchio’s! He put the grapes back on his mother’s bed table before he crushed them all inadvertently, moved her newspaper and picked up her weakened left hand. ‘Come on, let’s do some physio. We need to keep these fingers moving.’

  She shook her head. ‘They just won’t.’

  ‘They will. Keep trying. Here, come on, I’ll help you,’ he said, and, taking her fingers in his, he started working on them, giving himself something to do apart from conjuring Gemma’s image into his crazed mind.

  But it didn’t work, her image was still there larger than life, her soft, wounded, wary eyes torturing him, so after a few minutes he put his mother’s hand down and stood up. ‘Right, I’m off to the school to sort out young Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be good.’

  ‘What else?’ she said sadly, and her eyes filled again, ripping at his conscience. ‘Bring him—come for longer. I miss you, Sam. You don’t know…’

  His conscience stabbed him again, and he sighed softly. ‘I do. You tell me often enough. But my life’s not here, Mum.’

  ‘Could be.’

  ‘No. No, it couldn’t. Just the moment you’re better and I’m given the all-clear by the physios, I’m going back to Africa.’

  Her fingers tightened on his, her right hand clutching at him in desperation. ‘No, Sam! Don’t! You can’t go back!’

  That was probably true, although not the way she meant it, but he wasn’t giving in. Not yet. ‘Mum, I have to go,’ he repeated, and, freeing his hand, he dropped a swift kiss on her cheek and walked out.

  ‘Sam! I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s the last place!’

  ‘Well, ditto,’ he said, and his smile looked strained. ‘Have you seen Jamie?’

  ‘He’s here somewhere,’ Gemma said, trying to control her see-sawing emotions. ‘Doing the name badges and the drinks for the parents? He will have done the careers thing last year, so he’s only helping. I don’t like to be unkind, but it doesn’t sound like him.’

  ‘Maybe it was just a reason not to go and see Mum. He hasn’t been in yet. I think he’s scared, but while I’m here I need to speak to his teachers and find out what I can about him hanging around with Gary Lovelace.’

  ‘Well, Lachlan D’Ancey’s here, he’ll fill you in. He’s Chief Constable now, but he just comes to support the school and sell the police force. Nick Tremayne’s here, too. If Lachlan’s busy I expect Nick could use some help, there are always lots of people thinking of studying medicine.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think the school would be interested in my support. I wasn’t exactly their star pupil.’

  ‘That’s rubbish, Sam, you got four As at A level!’

  ‘Only because I was constantly being grounded.’

  She smiled slightly, remembering the tales of how rebellious he’d been, how he’d pushed everyone to the limit of their patience, worried his mother senseless and alienated half of the town.

  Which, of course, had only made him even more attractive.

  She dragged her eyes from Sam and looked at the girl who was hovering behind him. ‘Hi. Did you want to see me?’

  ‘Um—yes, please. I’m thinking of going into nursing, and
I wondered if you could tell me about it.’

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam lift his hand in farewell as he walked away, and she stifled a sigh of regret.

  Foolish, foolish woman. It’s over. Forget it.

  But she couldn’t, and for the rest of the evening her eyes were constantly searching for him, and every time they found him, her silly, stupid heart would lurch against her ribs.

  It might be over, but apparently she couldn’t forget it. Not for the last nearly eleven years, and certainly not now, with Sam right here under her nose, his presence reminding her of everything she’d lost…

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘SAM—good to see you.’

  He stifled a wry grin at the blatant lie from the man who’d had altogether too much to do with him in his youth. ‘Hello, Lachlan. How are you?’

  ‘Very well. Great, actually. Married again.’

  Sam hadn’t known he’d got unmarried, but he wasn’t surprised that yet another thing had happened in Penhally without him knowing. He’d done his best to distance himself, so it was hardly rocket science, and he made some trite and socially acceptable remark and then Lachlan brought the conversation, not unexpectedly, around to Jamie.

  ‘Your brother’s getting himself in a bit of bother these days,’ he murmured. ‘You want to have a word with him. He’s going to end up with a criminal record if he goes on like this, and it’s a crying shame because he’s a good lad really. Sharp as a tack, which is half his trouble, of course, like it was yours. What he needs is a good role model.’

  ‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Sam said with a low laugh. ‘I’m the last person to give him advice.’

  ‘I disagree. You’re just the person—he reminds me a lot of you.’

  ‘What—loud and unruly?’

  ‘No—lost,’ he said, and Sam looked away, uncomfortable with Lachlan’s all too accurate interpretation of his youthful emotions. ‘You need to get him out of the influence of that young Gary Lovelace. He’s a nasty piece of work—God alone knows what Jamie sees in him, but he’s leading your little brother into all sorts of mischief.’