Doctor Knows Best (19 page)

“Even if I move from the County General,” stammered Megan, her lips trembling at his closeness, “I won't be at the other end of the earth. I could never go very far away from Devon so Joanna would always be able to find me.”

“And would I be able to find you too?” asked Giles softly, bending slowly towards her. Megan inclined her face to meet his mouth as his lips came down on hers with a lingering passion. Her hands instinctively flew up to his shoulders, clasping them, drawing him closer to her. The drumming of her own pulses in her ears deafened her, her mouth trembled beneath his as she felt her whole body go limp with desire.

Giles drew back from the kiss slowly, his strong mouth curved in a gentle smile. “I want you so much, Megan,” he whispered, “and it's not only for Joanna's sake.”

As if in a dream Megan locked her hands behind his head, tangling her fingers in his thick dark hair. “Giles, I want you too,” she whispered, “but I thought you weren't interested.”

“How could you think that?” He smiled as his lips traced a blazing trail along the outline of her jaw. “Your skin is as soft as silk,” he murmured when he reached the pulsating hollow of her throat.

Megan trembled and tears of exquisite joy wet her long silky lashes; this was everything she had dreamed of and more. One moment she had been alone on the beach, the next moment she was in Giles' arms and he was saying everything she had ever longed to hear.

“Megan, don't leave the County General,” he said, his warm lips nibbling her ear lobe. “Stay there, so that I can see you as often as I like.”

A painful doubt began to flood Megan's heart. She had been on the point of revealing that she loved him, but something had held it back. Now she was glad. He had only said he wanted her, nothing about loving her, and now he implied that all he wanted was for her to be available, to stay at the County General so that he could see her whenever he liked. Whenever
he
liked; to make use of her, in other words. Not the kind of relationship Megan had in mind with Giles Elliott or any other man.

She drew back, pushing him away with hands that only a few moments before had been pulling him closer so eagerly. “I can't let sentiment for any man get in the way of my career,” she said sharply. She knew she was over-reacting, but she couldn't help it, her emotions were a raw mixture of love, hate and jealousy.

Love, because try as she might she had to acknowledge that she loved him, but hate and jealousy too, even though she despised herself for letting such stupid irrational emotions overwhelm her. She put up a barrier between herself and her seething emotions, between herself and Giles Elliott.

Giles looked at her when she spoke with something akin to astonishment on his face. “I thought you said just now that you wanted me?” he said, a note of incredulous anger creeping into his voice.

“I did,” said Megan, disengaging herself completely from his embrace, “but as I said before, I'm not going to let emotion get in the way of my career.”

“But the way you kissed me!” said Giles.

“A momentary lapse,” insisted Megan airily, her voice sounding surprisingly firm in her ears. “Suddenly you were there, you kissed me and I responded. A perfectly natural reaction, I'm sure you would agree!” She started to walk briskly back along the sand towards the house. “Come on, unless you want to get cut off by the tide.”

“I think I already have been,” muttered Giles. “I don't understand you, Megan, I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” said Megan, “but that doesn't stop me from wanting to change my job.”

Angrily Giles pulled her back, preventing her from walking on. “Why doesn't it?” he demanded. “Why can't you stay where you can be near me?”

“I was not put on this earth for your convenience,” snapped Megan, beginning to get angry at his persistence. “If our paths cross that will be nice, but as I said before I can't let sentiment stand in my way.”

“I've made a mistake about you,” muttered Giles under his breath. “I didn't realise you were so hard.”

“Just as well you found out in time then,” said Megan curtly and began walking again. This time Giles didn't try to stop her but just strode along in silence beside her. Megan had difficulty in keeping back the stinging tears that threatened to come. Pretending to be a hard woman was difficult, but she was determined not to let him see how much he had hurt her by just asking her to be around.

No, damn it, she thought defiantly, every female instinct to the fore as she strode ahead, her dark hair blowing behind her like a defiant banner in the wind—I shall keep my pride intact, if nothing else!

Chapter Eleven

Lunch was a difficult affair to say the least, and as far as Megan was concerned it couldn't go by fast enough. She did her best to be bright and cheerful and she noticed Giles was making a determined effort too. We should have both been actors she thought sourly; we'd be nominated for Oscars for our performances today! The one thing she was thankful for was that at least they appeared to have fooled her mother.

She was in her element with two extra people to Sunday lunch, and as usual she had turned an ordinary lunch into a gourmet feast of roast beef, fluffy Yorkshire pudding, crunchy roast potatoes and parsnips, sprouts and thick, tasty gravy.

“It's just as well I don't see you too often, Mrs. Jones,” remarked Giles, pushing his plate away. “I should very soon put on weight and have to go on a diet.”

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Jones briskly. “You are one of the lean kind, you'll stay just the way you are all your life. Have a little more.” But try as she might she couldn't persuade him.

“I only intended this to be a brief visit,” he said, “and of course I didn't know Megan was here, otherwise I wouldn't have inflicted myself upon you. I'd better be getting back now and leave you two together for an hour. I take it you have got your car here, Megan?” He looked directly at her for the first time since their quarrel on the beach.

Megan returned his blue-eyed scrutiny calmly. “Yes, thanks, I have,” she said and smiled. It was an empty smile she knew, and Giles knew too. A smile that only played about her lips but which had no warmth and never reached her large brown eyes. If he was looking for some sign that she had changed her mind he would be disappointed—and he always would be, she thought bitterly. I shall never be there waiting for you, at your beck and call, standing in the shadow of your glamorous sister-in-law, she resolved. What really was their relationship? The nasty little voice at the back of her mind would not be stilled, even though it was something Megan tried not to think about. However, the disturbing image of Giles and Fiona together, looking such an elegant pair, was never very far away.

After Giles had left Megan chattered on brightly, perhaps a little too brightly, telling her mother about Susan North and Johnny Cox, about Thelma and her rotten husband. In fact, about anything she could think of. She hardly let her mother get a word in edgeways, which was really the object of the exercise. The very last thing she wanted was for Mrs. Jones to question her about Giles Elliott. If her mother was surprised at Megan's sudden loquaciousness, she didn't remark on it, just nodded and smiled and appeared to enjoy all the gossip which was kept up non-stop until the time came for Megan to leave.

As she drove back through the darkened countryside, Megan put her radio on full blast and drove at a furious pace. After a while, common sense took over and she slowed down. You're not driving away from him, she reflected ruefully, you're driving towards him—so why be in such a hurry! She would see him soon enough in the casualty department the next day, although she vowed she would try to keep out of his way as much as possible.

Monday morning in Casualty was busy and Megan was almost literally run off her feet. By skipping lunch altogether herself, she managed to see that all the junior nurses had a lunch-break. Hers consisted of a snatched cup of coffee in her office before she was back in the casualty receiving area. Monday was usually reasonably busy anyway, because Giles Elliott held a review clinic and all the patients who had presented with minor injuries over the weekend were reviewed by him on Monday morning, so that usually accounted for a fair number of people. But on this particular morning the casualty waiting area was bursting at the seams.

Megan had separated the patients into those for the review clinic and those waiting for treatment, which helped to simplify matters a little. She needn't have worried about embarrassing encounters with Giles because he was as busy as she was, closeted in his clinic, his secretary by his side taking the notes he dictated to the patients' GPs after he had seen each case.

It was only at the end of a long and arduous day that Megan remembered with an impending sense of panic that tomorrow she had to lecture to the pupil nurses and she still hadn't had time to rehearse her lecture with the transparencies. The temptation was to leave it, she felt so tired, but when she got to her office there were the transparencies lying on her desk and she knew she just had to put them on the overhead projector and run through her lecture.

Sighing, she collected her notes and the transparencies together. Might as well do it now, she thought resignedly, otherwise there'll be no sleep for you tonight, my girl.

Making her way down the corridor, she unlocked the seminar room attached to the accident and emergency department where all the lectures were given. At least she would be left in peace now. Juliet Moore had come on duty so no one would interrupt her.

Megan carefully lined up her transparencies and, putting one on the projector, switched it on. Adjusting the little magnifying glass that reflected the writing on to the large wall screen proved to be difficult. Megan struggled with it for half an hour, becoming more and more frustrated. The wretched thing would not stay in the right place. She either had an enormous picture that would not fit the screen, or a tiny one which could only be reflected on the ceiling!

“I can see the whole damned thing is going to be a disaster,” she muttered, speaking her vexed thoughts out loud.

“Is it?” asked a deep voice from the doorway.

Startled, Megan turned the light from the overhead projector illuminating her slender body, but blinding her to the tall masculine figure standing in the doorway. Not that she needed any light to know it was Giles Elliott—the sound of his voice was enough.

Ignoring the thudding of her heart and steeling herself against any kind of emotion as best she could, Megan turned back to the projector.

“This wretched thing will not behave itself, and I've got to use it tomorrow.”

“Here, let me see.” Switching on the main light he came across to where she was standing. “What seems to be the trouble?” he asked.

Megan explained the problem. “I think the screws must be worn out,” she said. “The ones that hold the magnifying glass in position.”

“Hmmm,” muttered Giles, looking at it intensely, “you are probably right, and it's too late now to get it mended today.”

“I'll never get the maintenance department to do it in time for the lecture tomorrow,” said Megan, a note of panic creeping into her voice. “They need a requisition about a fortnight in advance for any work they do.”

Giles smiled, a wry twist to his lips. “Don't tell me our cool, calm, unemotional Sister Jones is panicking!” he said.

Megan ignored the jibe. “It doesn't matter,” she said as calmly as possible, gathering her notes together. “I'll just have to borrow a projector from the school of nursing tomorrow morning early. I'll arrange it before the lecture.”

“Hold your horses,” said Giles, fiddling with the screw. “I think we can make do and mend with this one, at least for tomorrow.” He tore a piece of paper from a notepad which he took from his pocket, then he folded it into a very small square. “Now, if I wedge this in here I think that should do the trick,” he said confidently, pushing the paper between the screw and the side of the glass. “Now let's see.” He adjusted the magnifying glass so that the notes on the transparency were in perfect focus on the screen, then let go and the magnifying glass promptly fell down with a plop so that the transparency was reflected in miniature on the ceiling once more!

Megan restrained a wild impulse to giggle hysterically, for Giles looked annoyed at the fact that his brilliant strategy hadn't worked. “I think perhaps I'd better borrow a projector,” she said.

He frowned. “Have you got a knitting needle?” he asked.

Trying not to show her surprise, Megan said, “No, I haven't, but I'm sure Sister Moore has got some in the drawer of her desk. She often knits at night when things are quiet.”

“I'm not asking for the history of the knitting needle, just get me one,” snapped Giles bad-temperedly.

Megan glowered at him. No need to snap my head off like that, she thought rebelliously, having to remind herself that he was trying to help her and that really she should be grateful. “Do you want any particular number?” she asked.

“I only want one,” he said.

“I mean any particular size,” repeated Megan, thinking how ridiculous their conversation must sound.

“The smallest, thinnest one you can get,” he replied.

Luckily Juliet Moore had quite a supply in her drawer. “Don't tell him I've got all these,” she said as she searched for the smallest one. “Otherwise he'll think I never do anything but knit all night!”

“I shouldn't worry about that,” replied Megan. “If he gets too objectionable you could always stab him with one of these spare needles.” She made a vicious lunging movement through the air.

Juliet raised her eyebrows. “I thought you liked him,” she said.

“I'm off him,” said Megan forcefully. Then she paused on her way out of the door. “Not, of course, that I ever really liked him,” she added.

Juliet Moore just smiled as she closed the drawer of her desk and said nothing, leaving Megan knowing, as she made her way back to the seminar room armed with the knitting needle, that she had not convinced her in the slightest!

She silently handed Giles the needle, although what purpose he had in mind for it she just couldn't imagine.

“Ah,” he said taking it from her, “just the right size. Now I'm sure this will do the trick.” He slotted the needle through where the screw should go and then, with the aid of his wedge of paper, managed to manoeuvre the magnifying glass to the right place and gently let go of it. The glass stayed in place, reflecting Megan's transparency perfectly on to the screen on the wall.

Giles put his hands in the pockets of his white coat with a sigh of satisfaction. “There you are, just shows what a little ingenuity can do,” he said. “With the aid of a piece of paper and a knitting needle the projector is fixed.”

“The marvels of modern science,” said Megan with a little laugh. “Thank you very much, and now I've got to practise my lecture for tomorrow.” She turned away and picked up her notes. “Goodnight, thanks again for helping me out.”

“Don't mention it,” said Giles, not moving. “Have you…” He hesitated. “Have you seen any jobs you like advertised yet?”

“I haven't had time to look,” said Megan, keeping her head lowered over her notes. “Today has been very busy. I'll probably flick through the journals tonight when I've finished here.”

“Joanna starts at her new school the day after tomorrow,” he said, still not moving.

“I know,” answered Megan stiffly, wishing he would go. Awkwardly she shuffled the papers in her hand and one page floated out from the sheaf and drifted down on to the floor. They both bent down to pick it up simultaneously and their hands touched as they went to grasp it. No amount of self-control could stop the shivering sensation that swept through Megan at the touch of his hand. Her heart quickened its beat, sending a flood of warmth stealing through her veins.

“Megan, I…” he began.

“Please excuse me, but I really must run through this lecture and I'm very tired,” said Megan quickly. It was a dismissal and he knew it. “Thank you once again for fixing the projector for me,” she said, stiffly polite, “it was very kind of you.”

“That's quite all right,” replied Giles in exactly the same tone of voice as he stood up. Then he turned swiftly on his heel and walked out of the seminar room door.

Megan watched his departing figure with a deep feeling of despair engulfing her. She would have to leave; she couldn't bear being so close to him. She wanted him for herself and herself alone, and bitterly she had to acknowledge that it could never be like that.

She ran through her lecture automatically, hardly knowing what she was saying, and when she had finished she neatly stacked up her notes and transparencies, switched off the lights, locked the room and went back to the nurses' block. She felt totally drained of emotion, like a robot, except for the nagging pain in her heart.

Next day her lecture went off smoothly. The overhead projector stayed in one piece, thanks to Giles' ingenuity, and by the end of the one and a half hour period Megan felt quite pleased with herself. Only her unhappiness about Giles marred the morning, but that was something she'd have to learn to live with, she told herself. She didn't see him at all that morning and she knew he would be away in the afternoon, for he would be taking Joanna and her trunks to her new boarding school.

On impulse Megan rang the number of his hospital flat from her office to say goodbye and good luck to Joanna. She had just seen a back view of Giles disappearing down the corridor with one of the orthopaedic surgeons so she guessed he would not be going back to the flat right away.

Joanna answered the telephone. “Hello,” she said cautiously, “Joanna Elliott speaking.”

“It's Megan,” said Megan. “I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you again before you go off to school, but I just rang to wish you good luck and to say I hope you'll be happy there.”

“Thanks,” Joanna's voice brightened on the other end of the line. “It's nice of you to ring. In fact I'm glad you have, because I've been worried.”

“Worried?” asked Megan softly. “Surely you're not worried about your new school? You can take it from the horse's mouth, you are going to have a great time there. Two years will pass before you know it and then you will be really grown up, going to university or doing something equally exciting.”

“It's not me I'm worried about,” said Joanna, “it's you.”