The Surgeon's Family Wish (15 page)

‘So it's over, your relationship with Annabel?'

‘What else would you expect?'

‘I don't know. I really don't know. But from what I've seen of her, Annabel doesn't strike me as the sort of person who would willingly hurt anyone.'

‘Well, she's hurt me and will have hurt Lucy when she finds out that her wonderful Dr Swain isn't in our lives any more.'

‘And are you bothered about the degree of Annabel's hurt in all this?'

‘Of course I am. As a doctor I have the greatest respect for her—'

‘But as a woman you're not so sure?'

He was on his feet. ‘I'm not sure about anything any more.' Planting a kiss on her worried brow, he said, ‘I'm off to bed. Maybe when I've slept on it I'll see things differently.'

A
S THE
new year approached, with its promise of new beginnings, Annabel accepted there would be none for her. In harness again at Barnaby's after the Christmas break, she and Aaron were back to being polite strangers, still bound by their commitment to the children there, but otherwise experiencing the bitter taste of an aborted love affair that had shown him to be relentless and her sparing with the truth.

Annabel had heard nothing from Mary and had concluded that she was now just as low in her esteem as she was in her son's, until they met one day in the town.

Both women had gone to the sales. It was Annabel's day off and, dreading the long hours with nothing but her thoughts to occupy her, she'd gone to make a lukewarm foray around the stores.

So had Aaron's mother, but there'd been nothing halfhearted about Mary's shopping spree. Her friendship with Tom Parbold was flourishing and for that reason, like any other woman with a new man in her life, she felt she needed new clothes.

The two women met in the self-service restaurant of one of the stores where Mary spied Annabel seated at a table by the window, gazing into space with her meal untouched.

‘May I join you, Annabel?' she asked, as the young doctor observed her in surprise. Without waiting for permission,
she unloaded the contents of her tray onto the table and settled herself opposite.

Annabel managed a smile. She had no quarrel with this pleasant woman. Had no quarrel with her son for that matter. It was Aaron who had put an end to their relationship.

‘I've been wanting to talk to you ever since Christmas,' Mary was saying, ‘but I wasn't sure how you would feel about us having a chat. I don't want to intrude into your life, Annabel, but I have a miserable son at home and a bewildered granddaughter and would like to see them happy again. Aaron has told me some of what happened between you and I can see both points of view. Sadly he can't. He'd put you on a pedestal and...'

‘I fell off,' Annabel replied with a smile as wintry as the day outside.

‘Do you want to tell me about it?' the other woman coaxed gently. ‘You might feel better if you did.'

‘There's not much to tell. I had an affair with another paediatric surgeon. He was an American, and a charmer. I didn't mean to get pregnant, but as I've always wanted a child of my own I had no problem when I did. I thought he wouldn't have one either. But when I told him about the baby he confessed that he was already married to someone back in the States. I immediately ended the affair as husband-stealing is not in my line, but decided that I was going to have the baby no matter what. As you will know, I lost it and, desperate for a new start, I came to work at Barnaby's.'

‘So you didn't know that this man was married?'

‘No. He deceived me. But I feel that I was equally to blame for taking him at face value.'

Mary sighed. ‘That is the problem. Those of us who
tell the truth expect the same of others, and it doesn't always work out that way. But, tell me, why didn't you explain to Aaron that you were unaware of this man's circumstances?'

‘I tried to, but he wouldn't listen.'

As Mary observed the shadows beneath her eyes and the defeated droop of her mouth, she ached for both her son and the woman he loved. She had no doubt that Aaron still loved his clever doctor, and if the state of Annabel was anything to go by, her feelings hadn't changed either.

‘I understood his anger and disgust,' Annabel went on. ‘He'd just come back from the Sullivan house and seen what distress that kind of infidelity can cause. And I must have had a death wish as I chose that moment to confess. I'd wanted to tell him right from the beginning, but dreaded what would happen. But when Aaron was caught up in a similar situation I felt that I had to tell him, even though I knew what the consequences would be. And I wasn't wrong.'

‘So let me tell Aaron that you didn't know the American was married.'

Annabel shook her head. ‘No! Please, don't. If Aaron can't accept me for what I am, there is no point in taking it any further. Promise me that you won't say anything.'

Mary sighed again.

‘This is all so sad. But I won't say anything to Aaron if that is what you want. Though it's hard to stand by and do nothing when I might be able to put matters right.'

‘The only person who can put matters right is Aaron,' Annabel told her bleakly, ‘and something tells me that will be a long time in coming. But enough of the woes
of foolish people like he and I. Tell me about Lucy. How is she? Having been banished from her life, I'm really going to miss her.'

* * *

It had been a gruelling day at the hospital. A packed clinic in the morning, with ward rounds in the afternoon, and for extra measure there'd been staff shortages for Aaron to cope with in the aftermath of Christmas.

And the day hadn't gone down any better, with Annabel not being around. When she was there they were polite strangers and when she wasn't he ached for the sight of her.

When he got home Lucy was waiting for him, and after playing with her while his mother put the finishing touches to the meal, he'd gone into his study and sat staring at the amethyst crystal. It was brittle and beautiful like the woman who'd given it to him, he thought. Annabel had to be hard to do what she'd done to him.

Yet he'd seen her with Lucy and the children in their care. Witnessed her pain at the loss of her own child. So why had she given so little thought to what might hurt
him
?

When his mother called out that dinner was ready he got to his feet, hoping that he might manage a pretence of an appetite, but food was the last thing on his mind when she said casually, ‘I had lunch with Annabel today.'

Before he could comment Lucy asked, ‘When is she coming to see us again, Grandma?'

‘I don't know, Lucy,' she said. ‘You'd better ask Daddy.'

‘What did she have to say?' he asked, letting that pass.

‘Not a lot. As she's feeling hurt and angry she didn't send her love, if that's what you mean. But, then, you
would know that isn't likely to happen as you must bump into each other all the time at Barnaby's.'

His smile was grim. ‘Am I to take it that I'm being told off in a roundabout sort of way?'

His mother's face was solemn. ‘Just talk to her, Aaron. That's all I ask.'

* * *

When Lucy had gone to bed he waited until she was asleep and then reached for his coat and car keys.

‘I won't be long,' he said, and his mother nodded, hoping that her words had sunk in.

When he got to the flats there was a red Porsche parked outside and his eyes widened as he saw the number plate. It was Richard's car. His jaw tightened. What was
he
doing here?

At that moment they came out. Annabel and Richard. He saw that her sparkle wasn't missing now. He was holding her arm and she was laughing up at him. Jealousy rose in him, raw and painful.

So much for that, then, he thought grimly as they got into Richard's car and drove off. Maybe he hadn't been wrong after all if Annabel could get over her broken heart as quickly as that.

The car was outside the coach house when he got back, and when he looked through the study window he could see their shadows on the blind, close together, intimate.

He had his answer. Annabel was attracted to men like Richard. The philandering type. He might not be married but he was always on the lookout for female company. When she compared the two of them
he
must seem like a judgmental bore.

‘You're soon back!' his mother exclaimed disappointedly.

‘Annabel is next door with Richard,' he told her. ‘They were just leaving the flats when I got there.'

She sighed. ‘I see.'

* * *

The next morning they met once again in the hospital staff car park and when Annabel would have walked past Aaron called, ‘Have you got a minute?'

‘Yes. What do you want?' she asked, knowing that by now his mother would have told him they'd met in town.

‘It would seem that you are very resilient. That you soon bounce from one relationship to the next.'

‘What?' she exclaimed, her wide hazel gaze fixed on him. ‘You've lost me, I'm afraid.'

‘Richard Clements.'

‘What about him?'

‘I saw him at the flats and then he took you to his place.'

‘So?'

‘I thought he wasn't your type.'

‘He isn't. Richard rang me in the late afternoon, trying to persuade me to give his house a second viewing. I told him that I didn't think you would want me to live next door to you and that it would be too big for me in any case, but he coaxed me into having just one more look. I still wasn't interested and he brought me back before going to some club in town. Sorry to disappoint you.'

She was turning away, shoulders drooping in her big winter coat, and he wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he loved her, and could they start afresh? But she was off, eager to put as much distance as possible between them. Having no wish to make a further nuisance of himself, he followed at a much slower pace.

When she'd calmed down it occurred to Annabel that she hadn't asked Aaron what he'd been doing outside
her flat. Had he been coming to see her by any chance and walked into the Richard scenario?

And what if he had? They were finished. He'd made that crystal clear and if Aaron thought she was going to beg he was very much mistaken.

The mother of the small boy that she'd operated on after the car crash on Boxing Day was waiting for her when she arrived at the wards. He was due to be discharged soon after making a good recovery from the skull fracture, and his father was now out of Intensive Care at the Infirmary.

She was holding a bouquet of flowers and said, ‘Our family will soon be reunited back home, but before we are I just wanted to say thank you, Dr Swain. You gave up part of your Christmas to save our boy and we are truly grateful.'

Aaron appeared at a leisurely pace just as the boy's mother was making for his bedside and caught Annabel fighting back tears.

‘What's wrong?' he asked, as the tenderness she always aroused in him blotted out every other emotion.

‘It's just the kind thought that's getting to me, that's all,' she choked. ‘Finding that not everyone thinks I'm rubbish.'

His face paled. ‘I don't think that.'

‘Yes, you do. You've made it very clear.'

‘Tell me something,' he said levelly, ‘do you think you treated me fairly? Only telling me half the story of what happened with this other man.'

She shook her head. ‘No. I don't. But there was a reason. I knew how you would react and I certainly wasn't wrong about that.'

‘I adored you, thought you were the most wonderful thing to happen to me since losing Eloise.'

‘And you found me to be a sham?'

‘Not a sham. A disappointment.'

The tears were still hovering on her lashes as she told him. ‘I admired you from the moment we met. Your integrity, your love for your family, your strength of character. And yet it's those things that turned you against me. So from now on I'm staying how I was before, on my own. It's easier that way.'

Taking the flowers into the staffroom, she put them in water and then prepared to meet the day, not caring whether Aaron was still standing where she'd left him or turning cartwheels down the ward.

* * *

It was New Year's Eve, the time each year when the hospital held its staff Christmas party. And when Aaron heard Annabel tell Mark that she was thinking of giving it a miss, he said quickly, ‘The trust expects the doctors to support the event, either alone or with our wives, husbands or partners.'

‘So are you saying that I have to go?' she asked coolly.

‘No, of course not. What you do outside working hours is your own business, but most of us do make the effort.'

It was only partly true. Most of the staff did attend, mainly because it was a prestigious affair, but the hospital trust didn't take particular note of who was there. It was he who wanted her to be present. He didn't want her to be on her own on the night that took out the old year and brought in the new.

It must have worked as minutes later she said stiffly, ‘Then I suppose I'd better attend. Never let it be said that I've offended someone.'

He ignored that and went on his way, satisfied that
she would be visible to him that night, even if she wasn't in his arms. Though they might dance together if Annabel wouldn't think she was being patronised. And as for the rest of it, when it came to midnight, what then?

She still made his heart leap and his pulses quicken every time he saw her. If she came in the gold dress that she'd worn on Christmas Eve, the ache in him would be unbearable.

When they'd exchanged presents on Christmas morning and Lucy had found her doll, his mother the cashmere shawl that Annabel had bought her and himself the amethyst, he'd given her a gift-wrapped box of his own, holding a necklace of emeralds and diamonds.