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Authors: Jill Barry

BOOK: A Life Less Lonely
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Chapter Four

 

Keir
leaned back in his high-backed office chair and stretched his long arms towards the ceiling.

“Would you like these notes transcribed today?”

He locked his hands behind his head and peered at Lyn. “Not if it scrambles your schedule. Aren’t you finishing early? Rosie’s music exam is this afternoon, isn’t it?”

“How you remember stuff like that always amazes me,
Keir. I could slot these in and probably email them to you before I leave at three.” She hesitated. “Unless you need that long report first?”

“That can hold ‘til you’re ready. So today’s notes might be with me sooner than I thought? What would I do without you?”

“My other half says that too.” She grinned. “In his case, I remind him he could always part-exchange me for two eighteen-year-olds.”

“He’s not daft enough to contemplate any such thing. But, if you were headhunted, what would you recommend I did?”
Keir looked at her expectantly.

She kept a straight face. “You could buy a coffee machine. How about an Italian steam punk job with a sloe-eyed
Signorina to manage it? And there’s always a voice recognition package. That should do the trick.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so. I’ve already got one at home, don’t forget. Voice recognition package, I mean,” he added hastily. “The darned thing insists on turning my dictation into something resembling lumpy mashed potato. It’s probably more trouble than it’s worth.”

Lyn stood up. “There’s hope for us working women yet then. I must get on.” She tapped her notebook. “This stuff’s really interesting, by the way.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the potential we’re exploring.”

“Aiming for a knighthood?” She teased him so frequently he never took offence.

“I wish! I suppose I could always borrow you from your husband to accompany me to Buckingham Palace - even buy you a posh hat for the occasion.”

His PA paused at the door as if about to say something.

An internal call cut short the banter. Realising how sad he’d sounded, even though making a joke, he grabbed the phone with a sense of relief. He’d no wish to discuss the lack of a ‘plus one’ in his life. His attentive PA might decide to help him find someone.

Lyn left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Keir
finished his phone call. He’d been awake since five a.m., firstly out jogging round the park then practising his talk while he got ready for his nine-thirty start at Hartnett General. His suspicions about an undercurrent linking Richard Bailey and Andrea Palmer were unfounded. He’d tried to be as diplomatic as possible when sounding out the Prof who’d laughed at him. Laughed out loud and told him much as he found Keir’s assumption flattering, he doubted whether Andrea would be equally pleased, given her boss’ midriff bulge and flat feet.

“We’re none of us perfect, Richard,”
Keir had protested.

The Prof totally understood
Keir’s concerns. He’d mentioned how fond he and his wife were of Andrea’s family. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but their conversation had been interrupted. First Richard, and then Lyn. Twice in one day someone had backed off. Well, if these matters were of any importance, the Prof and his PA each knew which door he sat behind. Keir was fairly sure Lyn had been about to urge him to resurrect his social life. This he could deal with. She meant well, but you’d think she’d know better by now. As for Richard, whatever it was bugging him would doubtless surface, if he meant it to.

At least he hadn’t been stupid enough to enquire about Andrea’s marital status. Her rings told a story, even if she didn’t radiate contentment as he himself had done back in his early days of coupledom. How could someone at the top of his professional game have been so ignorant? How could he have let his own job satisfaction and self-delusion cocoon him from the truth? His failed marriage, if he allowed himself to think about it, still burdened him like a pair of diving boots. His former wife and small daughter were making a new life in Australia with a man who made time for them. He wondered what Andrea’s husband did for a living.

***

Andrea sat across the table from the psychiatric nurse who’d carried out Rosemary’s assessment. “Well, that’s a relief,” she said, clasping her hands beneath her chin.

The tall young man nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if loneliness had a lot to do with Rosemary’s state of mind.” He watched the corners of Andrea’s mouth droop. “I know you spend as much time with her as possible,” he said gently. “Don’t feel guilty. You have other priorities. So, how about this brilliant idea you began telling me about?”

“I’ve had a long talk with Lizzie and put forward my idea. It could be beneficial for all of us.”

“And how do you think your neighbour feels about moving in here?’

“At first she was stunned at the idea of letting her house but she soon began to see it might make sense. She’d been dreading putting her property on the market and moving. We’ve got a lot to sort out but it’d take a load off my mind and Lizzie obviously would prefer to stay around. She really enjoys her job and she’s fit and energetic. One day she says she can see herself moving closer to her daughter. Hopefully not for a long time yet though.”

They exchanged smiles as combined laughter rippled from the sitting room where Rosemary and Lizzie were watching a DVD.

“Keeping your mother in familiar surroundings plus having someone to keep an eye on her and escort her to her hospital sessions sounds ideal. It’s looking good. I’ll send you a copy of my report.”

“Thank you,” said Andrea. She checked her watch. “I must let you get on.”

The nurse grinned. “I’d like to quiz you about this trial but of course that’s not possible. Rosemary’s GP couldn’t stop talking about the whole concept when I spoke to her last.”

“I know.” Andrea stood up.

He rose with her, reminding her how much he resembled a walking Everest rather than someone in the caring profession.

“This has been really helpful,” she said. “I feel a lot more positive about Mum’s situation now.”

He stuffed his file into a bulging briefcase. “I’ve met Dr Harrison once or twice at case conferences. He seems a nice guy as well as being brilliant at what he does.”

As Andrea walked him to the front door, she wondered whether Keir had a dark side. Surely no one could be as Teflon-coated as everyone seemed to assume.

***

“Timed to perfection,” said Keir. “Thank you, Lyn. I’ll check out the hotel website later.”

“The King George has a spa area and pool. If you have any time for leisure, that is,” she added.

“A quiet morning swim will be worth getting up early for.” He closed the folder she’d handed him.

She shuddered.
“If you say so. Now, when the tickets arrive I’ll keep them in the safe until the day before you travel.’

“You know me so well.” He tapped his pen against his teeth. “How’s the guinea pig list coming along?’

“It should be ready for you by this afternoon. I’m waiting on one GP surgery to get back to me.”

Keir
nodded. “I won’t keep you, then.” He straightened his tie. “If you let me have Dr Palmer’s itinerary, I may as well hand it to her when I’m over there later.”

“Of course,” said Lyn. “I’ll bring it through now, in case I’m away from my desk when you leave.”

Mission completed, Keir placed the folder in his briefcase. He was due to meet Andrea and the Prof in Richard’s office that afternoon. He and she would run through their joint presentation, with Richard on the sidelines, having promised not to heckle unless provoked.

This opportunity to be in Andrea’s company again gave
Keir an extremely non-professional buzz. He had no one to confide in. Neither of his parents was still around and his younger brother worked as a pilot for an overseas airline, which meant they got together very infrequently. The move to Hartnett General after his wife and daughter emigrated with Keir’s replacement had seemed sensible in terms of a fresh start and buying a smaller house. The idea of being the spare part at dinner parties or, even worse, being the available male for every hostess’ unmatched friends, had repelled him. Somehow he’d negotiated job interviews, house selling and purchasing plus divorce proceedings and settled into his new life. Occasionally he might ring one of his former colleagues or email a couple of buddies from his old squash club but still he lacked a confidant.

Keir
bit his lip. He and Andrea would be spending hours in each other’s company. He didn’t want to touch raw nerves therefore it seemed sensible to keep off the personal stuff. Now he knew about her elderly mother, clearly Andrea’s understandable concern for her mum’s safety had shown in her expression the day they almost cannoned into each other at the elevator. Now she’d agreed to speak with him at the Montreal conference, this must mean she’d arranged for her mother’s needs to be dealt with as well as those of her husband and any children she might have. There was no need to probe further.

If only he could focus upon her solely as a colleague. Perhaps he should have invited the Prof along after all, instead of this beautiful, enigmatic woman who he longed to know better. But, having suspected Richard’s intentions towards Andrea, no way did he have the right to expect her to be anything else than professional in his company. They’d be travelling together and in close proximity for most of the time they weren’t tucked up in their rooms. When they weren’t talking shop maybe they’d discover something in common other than medicine. But,
becoming too close to a married woman while they were each away from their comfort zones would be not only a grave mistake, but could also prove disastrous to his street cred when it came to the clinical trials.

His PA knocked and entered the room. “I’ve just received the email I was waiting for,” she said, offering him some printed sheets of paper. “I’ve amended my data base – this is the updated version in case you want to take it with you.”

Keir nodded. “I can look through and mark the ones I don’t think are suitable. If Richard and Andrea can spare the time, I’ll run my recommendations by them.”

Lyn’s lips twitched.

“What?” He frowned at her.

“Surely it’s unlikely they’re going to disagree with you? You’re the specialist.”

“Andrea’s a medic too. She’s also the expert on community medicine. She’ll make sure we achieve the right balance of patients. I expect her to alert me if I haven’t got that right.”

“OK.” Lyn pointed to a yellow post-it note. “That indicates which one is Dr Palmer’s mother. I didn’t want to highlight her name on the page in case you were sharing the list with the others.”

“Good thinking.” Keir noted the patient’s name and removed the sticky note. ‘I gather from the Prof, Dr Palmer’s sensitive over her mother receiving anything remotely resembling preferential treatment. In fact, it was Richard who originally suggested she might be a suitable candidate.”

“Well, if it was my mum, I’d be crossing my fingers.”

“We’ll see,” said Keir.

***

Andrea riffled through her knicker drawer. Some of this stuff still bore price tickets. She’d indulged in a spree, choosing sensational jewel colours, ruby, amethyst and sapphire, buying matching bra and panties and ignoring her natural urge to choose pristine white or basic black. That was before the worst had happened. Since then, her life knocked off course; she’d stuck with practical white, now looking lethargic. She pulled out a matching set in saffron and decided she might as well give it an outing. No one else would see it, after all.

She’d been working at home, preparing her stuff for the meeting where she and
Keir would doubtless find areas of agreement and disagreement. Andrea felt strangely calm and wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing or not. Snipping the price tag from a pair of silky gold panties she smiled to herself. Speaking in front of an audience of one – well, two, if you counted her co-speaker as a separate one – was a tad different from facing an audience of hundreds. Some delegates would be on her side and others would not. But even for this practice run, she planned to dress immaculately from the very first layer. And that would be the luxurious body lotion she kept for special occasions. Deep down she knew it was all about confidence.

She slipped off her robe. The soft fabric of the underwear caressed her skin as she pulled the panties over her thighs. The eye-wateringly expensive bra lifted and separated her breasts, accentuating them and taking Andrea right back to the department store changing room where she’d tried just this one set on to check out the fit. But that time, the woman staring back at her from the mirror in the curtained cubicle had been a happy wife anticipating her husband’s return.

Andrea reached for a dark chocolate-coloured shirt with a black pinstripe. The slightly butch shirt took on a new dimension over the chic underwear. She’d selected a skirt suit today in a pale shade of khaki demanding gold jewellery and some kitten heels to enhance the femininity. It was a stylish outfit without being over the top. She just hoped when she collected Josh from crèche later, he wouldn’t run to her still bearing the marks of finger painting. But no way would the staff allow that to happen. Her nerves must be distorting her judgement.

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