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She laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled. ‘We’ll get you there, Mr Hendry, don’t you worry. You’ll do it this time. I won’t let you fail.’
He met her eyes, and she could see doubt and scepticism mingled with hope in their depths.
‘I’ll see you Monday, then.’
She watched him go, a relatively young man whom lack of exercise, family history and years of self-abuse had threatened with an untimely end. Could she save him? Not alone, of course, but would her contribution make any difference to the final outcome?
She didn’t know, but one thing she was sure of— she’d have a damn good try.
Friday, and the end of the week. Beth dropped the patient records back into Reception and smiled at Molly.
‘All done?’
She nodded. ‘I hope so. I’ve got to sort some things out for the Stop Smoking clinic on Monday, but otherwise I think I’ve done everything.’
‘Good.’ Molly glanced up at her. ‘Settling in all right at the Rectory?’
‘Oh, yes—it’s lovely,’ Beth told her honestly, genuinely delighted by her accommodation. She was less sure about her boss, though. Other than strictly professional exchanges, he had been very distant since the first night—really, since she had made that remark about his wife.
How was she to know, though? The man didn’t have a brand on his forehead that proclaimed him a widower. She felt bad that she’d hurt him, even so, especially after he had bent over backwards to make her welcome.
His desperation had certainly been justified, she acknowledged. She had worked full-time these past two days to help Julie catch up with her backlog, and then from Monday would be working just the mornings and Tuesday afternoon, as planned, with the smoking cessation clinic on Monday evenings some of the time.
For someone used to working full-time, it wasn’t much. She would have to find something to fill her leisure hours. Maybe one of her elderly patients had a dog that needed walking, or perhaps she could do some shopping for one of them. She’d ask—but not now. Now, she wanted to find a shop in the square and buy something to eat tonight, and then go back and cook it and eat it in front of the television, curled up on that unbelievably comfortable sofa.
Maybe she’d take up patchwork or tapestry or something to while away the long winter evenings.
It was only September, but already the nights were drawing in and there was a chill in the air.
She said goodnight to Molly and headed for the door.
Spaghetti, perhaps, or maybe a couple of those wonderful cheeses from the specialist food shop that lurked innocently on one side of the square.
She went in and bought some dolcelatte and a slice of a sheep’s milk roulé, and then on impulse picked up a bottle of Chianti.
‘Celebrating something?’
He didn’t mean to speak to her, but it was difficult to avoid her all the time and he didn’t want to be conspicuously churlish.
She turned and smiled, the wine in her hand. ‘Not really—it just looked appealing.’
‘You shouldn’t drink alone,’ he found himself saying.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t, as a rule, but—well, I thought tonight…’
She looked suddenly wistful, and he found himself asking her to join them for supper. ‘Nothing fancy—just spaghetti bolognese, I think, tonight. It’s Will’s turn, and he always does spaghetti.’
She nearly laughed. ‘I was going to cook that for myself.’
‘So will you come?’ He found himself waiting for her reply.
‘Thank you, yes, I will. I’ll bring the cheeses—we can have them afterwards.’
Her smile brushed her eyes with gold, and he felt the ache start again, low down. Damn. Now what had he done?
‘Fine,’ he said tersely. ‘Seven o’clock?’
‘That would be lovely—if you’re sure?’
‘Quite sure,’ he lied. ‘We’ll see you then—I’ll leave the lights on.’
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_5fd99723-6571-5352-9b7e-e3b9cfc6f6ae)
IN FACT it was still fairly light at seven o’clock although dusk was creeping in, but the lights made the big house seem even more welcoming as Beth scrunched up the gravel drive and rang the doorbell.
She waited for a moment, then rang it again. She could hardly hear it in the distance, over the music—at least two sorts, if not three—and the screaming of a child.
She smiled. That would be the small girl, in a paddy if she was any judge. She opened the door and walked into a scene of utter pandemonium.
The little girl was lying on the floor screaming, there was steam billowing out of the kitchen, and from the depths of the steam something with a heavy bass-line throbbed and wailed at full blast. The television was blaring forth from another room, and something else filtered down from upstairs.
She closed her eyes and tried not to laugh. Poor man, no wonder he hadn’t heard the doorbell!
She went into the kitchen and found it empty except for a pan of boiling water and the music. Both needed switching off—she went for the music first. Then she found the TV in the breakfast-room next door and switched that off.
The silence was shattering. Even the little girl stopped screaming to listen to it.
She went back out into the hall, now quiet except for the music emanating from an upstairs room.
‘Hello,’ she said to the child, and she sat up and eyed Beth warily.
‘‘I?.’
‘I’m Beth.’
‘I’m Sophie.’
She sat on the floor beside the child. ‘What’s wrong, Sophie?’
‘Nothing,’ she mumbled mutinously. ‘I can’t find Daddy. I called him.’
Beth shot a glance at the kitchen. ‘I don’t suppose he could hear you. Shall we see if we can find him?’
‘Who turned that off?’ a voice yelled over the banisters, and a youth vaulted over the top rail on to the middle of the first flight and bounded down to the hall.
‘I did.’
‘Ah.’ He skidded to a halt at her feet and peered down at her. ‘Um—is Sophie all right?’
She looked up at a younger version of Gideon, thinner and still a little gangly, but filling out fast. The eyes were identical.
‘I think so—I imagine she was just trying to make herself heard,’ she said drily.
He flushed. ‘You must be the nurse.’ He held down his hand and hauled her to her feet with a grin. ‘I’m William.’
She returned the grin. ‘I’m Beth. I turned off your hot water, as well, but there wasn’t much left.’
There was a tug at her hand. ‘Find Daddy,’ Sophie demanded.
William scooped her up into his arms. ‘Daddy’s in the shower.’ He looked over Sophie to Beth. ‘He sends his apologies—he won’t be a sec. He’s had a bit of a crisis in the bathroom. You couldn’t help me get Sophie into bed so I can get the spaghetti on, could you? The sauce is made.’
‘I want ‘ghetti.’
‘You’ve had yours—go on, Tuppence, don’t be a pain.’ He kissed her and handed her over to Beth. ‘Top of the stairs, turn sharp right. You can’t miss her room—it’s got pink furry things all over the floor.’ Sophie giggled. ‘He means My Little Ponies. Want to see?’
Beth smiled at her, her heart twisting. She was such a cherub. ‘Love to. Shall we?’
She set her down and they walked together up the stairs, hand in hand, while Beth wondered what sort of a crisis Gideon could possibly have had in the bathroom. She didn’t have to wonder for long.
‘I had a bath,’ Sophie told Beth seriously as they mounted the stairs. ‘A big one.’
‘Oh,’ Beth replied just as seriously. ‘Very big?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Too big—all the water fell over the top, and all the bubbles. Daddy threw a mega.’
She caught the laugh just in time. That expression just had to be straight out of her big brother’s or sister’s mouth. Lips twitching, she turned the corner at the top of the stairs just in time to see Gideon cross the landing clad only in a towelling robe belted loosely on his hips.
‘Beth!’
She smiled uncertainly. ‘Um—Sophie was yelling for you. William asked me to put her to bed…’
‘That boy—OK, Tuppence, come on, let’s tuck you up —’
She hid her hands firmly behind her back.
‘Beth do it.’
‘No, Daddy do it—‘
‘No.’ The chin stuck out, the cherub lips pursed in a determined little pout.
‘Really, I don’t mind ——’
‘Sophie ——’
‘Please, Daddy, please?’
They stood looking down at the little minx, and Beth had a sudden pang in the region of her heart that just wouldn’t be denied. ‘I would like to—may I? I could read her a story while you get changed.’
He glanced down, as if he had suddenly realised he was hardly dressed for the occasion, and a slow, rueful smile crawled across his face.
‘Be my guest,’ he said gruffly, and turned away from her. ‘Ten minutes, Sophie, all right?’
‘All right,’ she piped, and, taking Beth’s hand, she led her into her room.
It was a lovely evening. Claire, the middle child, was quiet and watchful at first, but having established Beth was not a threat she opened up and was quite charming. Will was good fun, Beth decided, despite the shatteringly loud music, and Sophie—well, she had fallen in love with Sophie sitting on the hall floor and nothing had happened to change that. Gideon was a bit of an enigma, though, quiet and watchful like Claire but without opening up.
Maybe he never did. The children didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual in his behaviour, and he was perfectly polite. It was just that he was withdrawn, almost as if he regretted issuing the invitation, and when she said she ought to be going he leapt to his feet with alacrity.
‘I’ll walk you back,’ he said firmly, and so she said goodnight to the children, thanked William for cooking the meal and allowed Gideon to hustle her out of the door.
He didn’t really, it was just that she was being oversensitive—or perhaps just picking up accurately on something he had meant to keep to himself.
They walked back to the coach house with only the sound of gravel underfoot to break the silence, glad now of the outside lights that dispelled the shadows of the trees and drove the spooks away.
‘I’m sorry about the chaos when you arrived,’ he said finally as they arrived at her door.
She shot him a wry grin. ‘I should imagine it’s like that in most families in the evening,’ she replied, unaware of the slight wistfulness in her voice.
He tipped his head, watching her thoughtfully. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
She nearly laughed. ‘No,’ she told him instead. ‘Once was enough for my parents. I disrupted the even tenor of their peaceful academia quite sufficiently without them making a habit of it.’
‘You sound bitter.’
‘Do I? I’m sorry, I would have thought by now I’d got over that. I have, really. It’s just—well, tonight—you’re a very lucky man, Gideon. A very lucky man.’
His laugh was low and hollow. ‘It doesn’t always seem like that.’
‘When you’re mopping the bathroom floor, for instance?’
He snorted. ‘Exactly. Oh, well. Thank you for your help with Sophie, by the way. She can be a real treasure when she’s not arguing.’
‘I noticed.’
A silence fell between them, a silence heavy with awareness and tension. He reached behind her and opened the door, pushing it wide.
‘You’d better go in before you get cold,’ he muttered, his voice husky.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’
‘My pleasure. Goodnight.’ He turned and walked away, his footsteps crunching. She shut the door. Had he been about to kiss her?
She wouldn’t like to bet on it either way, but she rather thought…
Nonsense. She ran up the stairs, unable to resist looking out of the window towards the house. He was standing by the door and waved before turning to go in.
Waiting for her, to see if she would look at him?
