From Single Mum to Lady Page 14

  ‘Pity he had to include the people hit by his car,’ commented Bob. ‘Have we time for a coffee? I’ll collapse if I don’t get some caffeine into my system.’

  Jandy joined him in the little kitchen. ‘Give me a strong one too, Bob,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long day and we’re not halfway through it yet.’

  She sat down and lifted her feet onto another chair with a small sigh of relief, taking the chance to take the weight off them, like most casualty nurses did. She put her head back and closed her eyes for a minute, feeling an edgy irritation with the day, caused in no small part by Patrick, trying to pinpoint just what it might be that had made him so remote and formal. Perhaps, she reflected tiredly, she had it all wrong and was imagining his cold attitude towards her. After all, she couldn’t expect the man to be all lovey-dovey with her in the hospital, for heaven’s sake. She was expecting too much after their intimate time together in Scotland. She took a refreshing sip of the scalding coffee that Bob handed to her and felt slightly better.

  At that moment Patrick came into the room, and she was struck suddenly by how tired and drawn he looked. He seemed to have aged a few years since they’d been together the day before. His father must be very ill, and in her selfishness she’d forgotten that he had things on his mind. He hadn’t been deliberately rude to her—it was just that he was very worried.

  She got up from the chair and poured him a cup of coffee.

  ‘Hi, Patrick,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry you had to leave suddenly. How is your father—is it very bad?’

  Patrick took the coffee from her and shook his head. ‘He’s OK really,’ he replied. For a second he looked at Jandy steadily, an unreadable expression in his eyes. ‘Something happened, though—something that meant I couldn’t stay any longer—but I don’t want to talk about it just now.’

  He gave no more information and Jandy frowned. It must be a private matter that he wouldn’t want to discuss at work with everyone listening.

  ‘Well, perhaps you’d like to do something to cheer you up?’ she suggested brightly. ‘There’s a really good film on at the local cinema at the weekend. I could get a babysitter and we could have a meal after it perhaps. What do you say?’

  She smiled at him, her beautiful eyes holding his. Inwardly Patrick groaned. He couldn’t handle this. She was so beautiful and he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her lips, feel again her soft body next to his…bury his head in her sweet-smelling, silky hair. Then he thought of what he had learned so brutally about her attitude to him since they’d made glorious love to each other only thirty-six hours ago. He hardened his heart and swallowed a large draught of coffee. He couldn’t allow himself to drift into a relationship again with someone whose regard for him was based on what she could get out of him. Both he and his precious Livy deserved more than that.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said tersely. ‘I can’t go out at the moment—a pretty full diary, I’m afraid.’

  Jandy looked at him in surprise. ‘You can’t go out at all?’

  His expression was cold, unreadable. ‘Not possible at the moment—too much on.’ He turned to Bob. ‘Bob, I’d like your opinion on the old man with the broken femur—he’s very shaky and I’m wondering if we’ve missed something.’

  Bob nodded and they both went out discussing the old man’s condition. Jandy took a deep breath, hardly able to believe Patrick’s attitude towards her. What the hell was wrong—was it her? Had she been too demanding, too sure of herself, or was she just being hard on him? He looked different somehow—not the vibrant and energetic person he usually was. He probably needed a few days off from socialising and she was expecting too much from a man she knew was kind and considerate normally—after all, he’d come up to Scotland with her and been an enormous help and support. Perhaps when he’d finished work he’d get in touch with her. She shouldn’t have pressured him in front of everyone. But somewhere deep inside her she had the horrible feeling that Patrick was moving away from her again. If he really loved her, he wouldn’t have brushed her off like that. She gave a baffled sigh and went to answer the wall phone.

  Patrick finished talking to Bob about the elderly patient and stood outside the small theatre for a second before he went to the locker room, watching Jandy walking back towards the main desk. He felt awful. He had wanted to make it plain to Jandy that they were no longer an item. In his bitter hurt at Jandy’s deception he wanted to hurt her too, and he hated himself for it. He had seen the expression in her eyes when he’d told her he was too busy to go out with her, and it had twisted a knife in his heart, because he could almost swear that she looked heartbroken and bewildered, as if she really had loved him. But looks were deceptive, he told himself bitterly. He’d heard from her own mouth that what attracted her was his wealth and position.

  ‘Damn it…damn her!’ he muttered, slamming the locker door shut with a vicious bang and walking briskly out of the room.

  * * *

  As Jandy drove home that night she felt the ghastly replay of confusion and despair she’d experienced when Terry had abandoned her. Perhaps there was something about her, she thought savagely, that made her into a victim where men were concerned. And yet she could swear that Patrick was nothing like Terry. Even when she’d imagined she’d loved Terry, in her heart of hearts she’d known that he was a selfish man, someone who liked to be the centre of attention—extremely attractive with a spurious charm but devious in many ways. She recalled how he would have no compunction in taking days off if he wanted to go somewhere glamorous, phoning his office to say he was ill but assuring her that he would be working twice as hard to make up for his absence. She hadn’t approved really, but when she’d been with him he’d had that charming knack of making her believe that he’d put himself out to be with her.

  But Patrick was nothing like that. She’d worked closely with him, seen how dedicated, compassionate and kind he was. She couldn’t believe that he really was the sort to have a one-night stand with anyone and deliberately hurt them.

  Tears of desolation ran down her face as she drove to pick up Abigail, but she brushed them away fiercely, furious with herself for being so weak. Patrick Sinclair had lied to her—and she was worth more than that. She certainly wasn’t going to spend years moping about any man again—life was too short to live wallowing in self-pity. She was glad, yes, glad that she’d found out about the rat now and not months later when she would probably have fallen for him hook, line and sinker. As it was, she was still in control of her feelings, wasn’t she?

  Unconsciously she tilted her chin in determination: Patrick was only going to be at Delford General for a short time until Sue came back from maternity leave. She would grit her teeth and work with him whatever the atmosphere between them.

  * * *

  Monday morning again and everywhere looked just the same—staff bustling about, Danny Smith on Reception laughing loudly at a joke Max had told him, a paramedic whistling cheerily in the corridor. Of course life went on, reflected Jandy gloomily. Just because her weekend had been sad and lonely, it didn’t mean that the world outside mirrored her emotions.

  ‘You look pretty shattered, Jandy,’ remarked Bob. ‘Had a busy weekend?’

  What you mean is that I look absolutely awful, which could be because I hardly slept at all, thought Jandy, but she answered with a bright smile, ‘Fairly busy. I’ve discovered moving house is very hard work and trying to box things up while an energetic four-year-old’s helping you can be a little frustrating.’

  She was well aware that Patrick was very close to her, leafing through a medical journal, but she didn’t look at him. She wouldn’t let him get to her—she wouldn’t!

  ‘Shall I go and take the first on the list?’ she asked Bob. ‘Monday mornings mean hundreds of patients with hangovers from the weekend, and worse!’

  She went to Reception and took the top card in the box from the pile of triaged patients.

  ‘Harry Leyton?’ she called out.

 
A large man wearing overalls and boots came forward, holding a dirty handkerchief over his finger.

  ‘Fine start to the day this is!’ he commented, sitting down in the cubicle that Jandy had taken him to. ‘I think I’ve taken off the top of my finger.’

  ‘Let me see,’ said Jandy, unwinding the material from his finger and blanching slightly when she saw that the finger had been cut through the nail bed to the bone. ‘How on earth did you do this?’

  ‘Pushing a bill through a letter box. The lid smacked down on my finger and I tried to pull my finger out. That was a mistake—it held my finger like a vice.’

  Jandy grimaced in sympathy. ‘Not what you expect when you post a letter. Now, I’m going to wash it very, very gently—we’ve got to make sure it’s clean—and then I’m going to bind it up to stop it bleeding.’

  ‘What about stitching it? Won’t that make it heal quicker?’ the man asked.

  ‘There isn’t much skin there to stitch. I think it will just have to heal over by itself. It’ll probably take two or three weeks.’

  Harry groaned. ‘I’m not going to be able to do much joinery with a hand like this, am I?’ He shook his large fleshy face gloomily. ‘Well, that’s ruined my day, I can tell you. How can I look after my family if I can’t work? I’ve got a big contract on as well with a building firm…’

  ‘I’m sorry, Harry,’ said Jandy as she cleaned and bandaged the injury. ‘It’s very bad luck—but it will heal if you don’t try and use it too much.’

  He nodded and sighed. ‘Maybe—but this is the first big job I’ve had in an age. It was going to set me up a bit, this was.’

  Jandy watched Harry lumber off, feeling intensely sorry for him. She knew what it was like to be hard up—but at least she had a regular job. Her heart might be broken, but as long as she could look after Abigail and keep a roof over their heads she mustn’t complain.

  She went to the central desk to put the patient’s case notes on the computer, brushing past Patrick who was writing something up on the whiteboard. He turned to look at her slim figure with her back to him as she sat in front of the screen. Bob was sitting by her, just finishing a telephone conversation. He put down the phone and turned to Jandy.

  ‘You still look a bit bushed,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t fancy having a drink with a few of us after work, would you?’

  Out of the corner of her eye she was aware that Patrick was watching her, but with an abrupt movement he rose from his chair and strode out of the room. She gave an inward shrug. She had to put Patrick Sinclair out of her mind.

  She smiled ruefully at Bob. ‘I’m terribly busy at the moment, Bob. Moving house in a few days means every hour after work is taken up with packing and sorting. It’ll be some time before I can take time off.’

  He nodded affably. ‘Just a thought. Hope the move goes OK.’

  Jandy turned to go back to Reception and on the way passed Patrick. He caught her arm, a grim expression on his face.

  ‘So you’re going out with Bob now, are you?’ he said stonily to her.

  She stared at him in amazement, lost for speech. What was this man like? But her heart started pounding at his touch, a kind of excitement building up in her that he was at least communicating with her.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said tartly with a raised eyebrow. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bob asked me out for a drink with some of the others, but for your information I declined—not that it’s any business of yours!’

  Then, with a withering look of scorn, she walked away from him.

  Patrick clenched his fists in his pockets. He hadn’t known it would hurt this much, listening to another man asking Jandy out. He hadn’t realised that the thought of her with anyone else would be like a knife turning in his stomach. He sat at the desk and looked down at his hands, seeing the golden wedding band he still had on his ring finger. Rachel would forever have a special place in his heart—but that was in another life. Now he knew that whatever he had found out about Jandy’s reason for going out with him, it was she who dominated all his thoughts at the moment—and he was eaten up by jealousy, unable to do anything about it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘I THINK we’re all done, love. The van’s empty now, so we’ll be off!’

  The genial removal men gave a wave and went off down the path, the door of the cottage banged shut and Jandy and Lydia flopped down on the sofa.

  ‘Thank God!’ exclaimed Lydia. ‘We’re in at last! And it looks lovely after all the hard work you’ve put in, Jandy, painting and scrubbing. I’m sorry you had to do it all.’

  ‘Oh, I quite enjoyed it. There’s something satisfying about seeing a result. Anyway, you’ve been doing your stuff with Mum in Scotland for a week. You say she’s doing really well?’

  ‘It’s amazing how’s she’s improved, and Bertie’s coming home next week.’

  There was the sound of pattering feet on the stairs and Abigail ran across the room, eyes alight with joy. She was so precious, thought Jandy, so full of life and exuberance. It made everything worthwhile, and even helped to subdue the unhappiness of the situation between Patrick and herself.

  ‘Mummy, Lydia, come and look at my room—it’s got lots of pictures up of flowers and fairies and little animals! I love it!’

  ‘We’ll come in a minute, pet. Just let Mummy and I have a little sit-down—we’re exhausted,’ begged Lydia.

  ‘Well, I want to show Livy my room soon,’ declared Abigail. ‘Can we ask her to come round? You said she could come when we were all moved in.’

  She looked pleadingly at Jandy, and Lydia grinned. ‘What a good idea. Livy’s Patrick’s little girl, isn’t she? Why don’t we have a small house-warming party with Livy and Patrick? Give them a call, Jandy. After all, it was Patrick who mentioned the cottage was to let and he hasn’t seen it transformed yet.’

  Jandy felt her cheeks redden, suddenly at a complete loss as to what to say. The last thing she wanted was to see Patrick. In the future she supposed it was inevitable they’d meet in the little village as they lived so near each other, but at the moment her feelings were too raw, still smarting from his incredible behaviour a week ago. They had seen each other in the hospital, of course, worked on the same patients sometimes, but had barely exchanged words. It was horrible, but she was going to stick it out until Patrick left in a few months. Sometimes she thought he was about to say something to her—but so far she had skilfully avoided entering into any conversation with him. If he hadn’t the basic politeness to tell her why he didn’t want to pursue their relationship then she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

  ‘He’s on holiday at the moment,’ Jandy said quickly, glad that she didn’t have to lie. ‘I know he’s taken a few days off, so we’ll have to wait until he comes back.’

  Abigail’s little face fell, then she said resolutely, ‘I’m going to send Livy an invitation. Will you help me to write it, Mummy? I’ll go and get my crayons.’

  ‘I must say I can’t wait to see the guy,’ said Lydia chattily as Abigail raced upstairs for her crayons. She opened a bottle of sparkling wine to celebrate their move. ‘Mum is in ecstasies about him—says he’s got everything! I thought perhaps I’d see him round here before I have to fly off again on Wednesday.’ She handed a glass of wine to Jandy. ‘Cheers! Here’s to happy times. By the way, has Patrick told you why he had to leave Scotland so quickly last week? And before I got to see him too!’

  Jandy took a sip of wine and twirled her glass, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. ‘Er…no, he hasn’t mentioned it, actually.’

  Lydia raised her eyebrows in surprise at her twin. ‘Why on earth not? I must say, it’s the first thing I’d ask him. You were really worried about what had happened to his father, weren’t you?’

  ‘I did try and find out but he said he didn’t want to discuss it in front of everyone at the hospital—and I can’t say I blame him.’

  ‘But you must have had times alone with him su
rely—even after work perhaps?’

  Jandy was silent for a second and Lydia looked at her curiously, then she put her glass down and came over to Jandy and took her hand, saying softly, ‘You can’t fool me, darling…I’m not your twin sister for nothing. Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Have you had a row?’

  Jandy swallowed. ‘Not really…well, sort of…’ She shrugged, her eyes a little too bright, and said with a weary half-smile, ‘No use keeping anything from you, is there? The truth is, Lydia, I don’t know what went wrong. We were getting along beautifully in Scotland. It was wonderful, and I really thought he liked me a lot—there was no sign of anything wrong. And then…and then when I came back from the shops after you’d arrived, he’d just vanished! And…’

  She stopped and wandered over to the window, gazing out at the little garden and the mansion house beyond it where Patrick lived.

  ‘And what?’ prompted Lydia. ‘His note implied that it was something to do with home, didn’t it? Nothing to do with you and him.’

  Jandy whipped round from the window and burst out, ‘But it must have been something about me—don’t you see? We were so very close on the night we’d come back from seeing Mum in hospital. I…I thought we’d made each other very happy. It all seemed absolutely perfect. And then…without a word he vanishes and since then he’s barely exchanged two words with me—except to be curt and rude. I just can’t understand it.’

  ‘Poor darling,’ whispered Lydia, hugging her sister. ‘I can’t believe it is anything to do with you. It must be something much deeper than that—some background worry that’s making him like this. Perhaps when he’s returned from holiday he’ll have sorted it out and things will get back to normal.’

  ‘I don’t think so, sis. I’ve come to the conclusion that he just doesn’t want any sort of commitment and he’s frightened I’ll be too possessive—something like that. You know, he still wears his wedding ring and perhaps that’s a sign that he hasn’t let go of the past yet.’ Jandy drained her wineglass, put it down on the table and said sadly, ‘Whatever it is, I’m damn well not going to make another mistake and fall for someone who can toss me aside so easily.’