A Life Less Lonely (8 page)

“I’m so sorry,” said
Keir, hands back at his sides. “That was totally out of order. I apologise for my behaviour. You have every right to lodge a complaint about me. I fully understand.” At that moment, all he cared about was Andrea and how offended she might be by such maverick and inappropriate behaviour to a married colleague.

She shook her head but didn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t need to apologise. I overreacted.” Hastily, she added, “to your comment about my concerns over my mother. For that I’m sorry. But it’s important you understand my personal life is my own business. If I didn’t feel I could offer you one hundred
percent co-operation in Montreal, believe me, Keir, I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation in the first place.”

Holding out his hand to her, he said, “Friends then?”

For a moment she looked as if she wanted to say something more to him. But she nodded and shook hands immediately. “Good colleagues will do and that’s what I hope we’ll remain. Now, let’s get out of here. I have work to do. As I’m sure you have.”

Andrea strode off, increasing the distance between
Keir and herself as she hurried down the corridor. He kept his eyes on her. Watched her ignore the lift disgorging a chattering group. Saw her begin climbing the staircase. She didn’t check to see whether he followed her or not.

***

Once on the third floor, Andrea shot into the women’s washroom, fortunately unoccupied, to stand at the basin, hands gripping the edge of the vanity unit, glaring at herself in the large mirror so thoughtfully provided for people who’d just been comprehensively kissed when they shouldn’t have been. Even more significantly, for people who’d kissed the other person back when they shouldn’t have. Because Keir unlocked feelings in her she’d never thought to experience again. Ever.

Andrea tucked her hair behind her ears, ignoring the thought of how
Keir’s fingers had touched it so tenderly only minutes earlier. His face, the skin retaining a hint of whatever shamelessly expensive aftershave or cologne he’d used, had touched her face. She stroked her cheeks then smelt the tips of her fingers. Lovingly. Tenderly.

“No way,” she snapped, jabbing at the tap, flinching as cold water gushed into the basin. She splashed her face then reached for a paper towel and blotted it dry.

How the heck had that happened? Of course she knew how it had happened – she’d riled him, rattled his cage more furiously than he’d rattled hers. Now her fantasy over how it might feel to be kissed by Keir Harrison had been fulfilled. Fine. Perhaps now the head of steam had exploded, the pair of them would be able to settle down together as friends or colleagues or anything else not remotely linked to lovers. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her. Nor had she expected to enjoy it quite so much. Maybe he considered himself to be a ladies’ man. Now, why hadn’t she thought of that before? It might be the kind of expression her mother would use about the leading man in one of those black and white films she adored, but Keir certainly had the CV to fit the role. Think Moira the red-haired nurse. Even Lizzie Dean, who admittedly would have had to be really precocious in order to be his mother, had described him as Dr Delectable. There must be many other females worshipping at his well-shod feet, without including his long-suffering wife.

But Dr
Keir Harrison truly didn’t come across as God’s gift to women, despite his immaculate suits and charming manner. He didn’t do smarmy. And there was genuine hurt in his eyes after she snarled at him like an angry dragon. It was clear to her now, having calmed down, that he had her best interests at heart. Whatever the temptation, she must not allow herself to relive that kiss. To do so would only forge a chink in her defences and for all sorts of reasons that mustn’t be allowed to happen.

With the word kiss echoing round her head, Andrea screwed the paper towel into a ball and hurled it into the waste bin. If only she could dispose of her guilty feelings with similar ease.

***

Keir
arrived at his office with a certain amount of relief. He’d watched Andrea disappear up the staircase without a backward glance and had opted not to use the elevator but to wait a suitable interval before climbing the stairs to the third floor. He’d no intention of developing the equivalent of a pilot’s paunch and often found using the stairs quicker than waiting for a lift to lumber into position. He tried not to think what might have happened had the two of them been locked into a lift together. Something very disturbing threatened to erode his self-control.

On arrival at Richard’s office, the Prof plied him with strong coffee, which
Keir accepted with gratitude but almost scalded his tongue on contact with the steaming liquid. But every other sentence of their discussion seemed to begin with Andrea says this or does Andrea think that? Although it was all perfectly valid and reasonable, Keir didn’t need her name in his ears when it already whispered at him inside his head at all times of day and night, just as the memory of her fragrance stirred his senses in a dangerous way.

When he returned to his office he found Lyn had left his opened mail and phone messages on his desk together with a lurid pink post-it note saying she’d gone to lunch and would be back at one o’clock. That gave him time to regroup. The fact that he’d kissed a colleague so impulsively weighed upon his mind, still worrying him. The fact that he’d enjoyed it so much, heightened by the way the recipient hadn’t leapt away in horror, had even seemed to kiss him back, was another matter entirely.

He should head for the dining room and eat something to soak up all that caffeine while he talked medical politics or whatever was on that day’s menu along with the hot food. But for just a few minutes, would it be so very wicked if he just relived that moment again?

Even the Prof’s high-octane coffee couldn’t wash away the taste of Andrea’s mouth. Her light, sweet scent still lingered in his nostrils but no way could he let his guard down like that again. He’d lost his own wife to another man and suffered the fallout. He didn’t intend stealing someone else’s spouse, no matter how delightful and witty and dedicated and attractive he found her. Loving her wasn’t an option. His forbidden feelings couldn’t be declared.

She’d made the decision to travel to Canada with him. He hadn’t exaggerated when he told her how much he valued her as a colleague. But it was going to take every ounce of his willpower to keep his relationship with Dr Andrea Palmer on a strictly professional footing.

Keir
groaned and put his head in his hands.

***

On the morning of departure, Andrea ferried Josh to Kirsty’s house soon after breakfast. She watched her son disappear inside the spacecraft formerly known as Kirsty’s kitchen table. Faded curtains secured by hefty cookbooks concealed the scrubbed pine surface, a small side opening allowing chinks of daylight so the two brave astronauts could operate their equipment and command a crew consisting of three portly teddy-bears, a worried-looking Tigger and a smiling felt penguin.

Kirsty
winked at her. “I’m instructed to deliver milk and flapjack to the flight deck at eleven o’clock. Sure I can’t tempt you before you go?”

Andrea shook her head. “I’ll be fine, thanks. I’d stay longer but maybe I should fix a sandwich after I get home. Dr Harrison’s picking me up so I don’t have to leave my car at Heathrow. After all, we’re booked on the same flights.”

“Sensible thing to do then – and while I think of it, I don’t want you rushing over here to collect Josh as soon as you arrive home again. You’ll still be jet-lagged, don’t forget.”

“OK, Mum,” said Andrea. “Let’s see how things go. If the flight’s delayed, we might get back too late for that anyway. I’m very comfortable about leaving him with you,
Kirsty. You know that.”

“And with Lizzie in charge of your other chick, all you have to do is look drop dead gorgeous while you dazzle a lecture hall packed with delegates.’ She shuddered. “I’d rather cook a casserole for two hundred than stand in front of that lot and give a talk.
Rather you than me, kiddo.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know about the drop dead gorgeous bit but
Keir and I have put together a pretty comprehensive package to stun them with. That’s the plan, anyway.”

Kirsty
glanced at the kitchen clock and looked enquiringly at Andrea. “Should you make a discreet retreat now? So you can drive back in leisurely manner.”

Andrea nodded and rose from her seat beside the dark blue kitchen range. “Mum calling Josh … Mum calling Josh.”

No response. She said it again. Two helmeted heads appeared in the gap.

“Haven’t you taken off yet, Mummy?” Josh clutched a plastic ray gun to his chest.

Andrea stooped to her son’s level and sneaked a kiss. “I’m going now. Goodbye you two brave astronauts. See you soon. I won’t forget to bring you both something back from Canada.”

“Yay,” said Josh. “Bye, Mum.”

The heads of the two boys disappeared back into their imaginary world.

***

Andrea completed the drive to Hartnett with a strange sense of disengagement. For the first time ever, since Josh’s birth, she had no childcare responsibilities. Nor did she need to worry about her mother. The trial had begun a few days before, without Rosemary showing any sign of recognition towards Keir. Andrea had accompanied her mother and Lizzie for this first session and knew the memory lapse was entirely in line with her mum’s condition. She tried not to wonder whether Rosemary might in time forget Josh, or even her own daughter.

The house seemed abnormally quiet when she let herself in and she had to force herself not to tiptoe like an intruder. Her luggage stood in the hallway and she already wore cotton trousers and layers to help adjust to temperature changes. She wasn’t sure now if she even wanted to fix herself a sandwich. Maybe she’d sit quietly and listen to the kitchen radio until she heard
Keir’s car pull up. She didn’t need to check all the windows were closed and locked again. When the telephone rang suddenly, she gasped. What if her mother had succeeded in wandering off and Lizzie had just noticed? The poor woman couldn’t fasten Rosemary into a highchair like you could a toddler. Or could Josh already be needing reassurance that Kirsty couldn’t provide?

Worst of all was the thought of
Keir being proved right when he’d wondered whether she was entirely calm about her mother’s care. It might even be the man himself ringing. What if he was snarled up in traffic? If they missed check-in, it wasn’t like there’d be another plane along in ten minutes.

Andrea didn’t recognise the caller on the display but snatched at the phone to stop its irritating ring. “Hello,” she said, not disclosing her name or confirming her number. She held her breath but to her relief this proved to be a cold call and she responded as politely as possible. People were only trying to earn a living.

She walked into the kitchen, feeling less tense and telling herself to stop being so paranoid. This was the beginning of a brief but exciting phase in her career including the chance to sample Canadian culture, something she’d always fancied doing. No way would she risk her credibility or peace of mind by allowing what amounted to a silly schoolgirl crush to overwhelm her.

And then she heard the sound of a car engine and suddenly and incredibly happiness engulfed her.

***

The lounge for business class ticket holders was dotted with people tapping away on laptops, reading, snacking or chatting quietly with their fellow-passengers.
Keir placed two bottles of sparkling mineral water on the low table between them and seated himself opposite Andrea. “Chicken salad?”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the sandwich. “This is a great way to begin a trip, though I have to say I wasn’t anticipating travelling in such style.’

He made a wry face. “Quite honestly, it’s all about my size.”

She paused, sandwich halfway to her mouth.
“Your, erm … size?”

“Leg room, that is.” Straight-faced, he removed the plastic seal from his bottled water. “Curling myself into my regulation 18 inches or whatever it is these days, is all very well for a quick hop to Glasgow.”

“Such exaggeration,” she murmured.

“OK,” said
Keir. “Seven hours in an aeroplane with limited room to stretch is a nightmare once experienced and not to be repeated. Even with my flight socks on.”

“I feel a bit guilty. My legs are shorter than yours. I could’ve travelled Economy.” Her eyes danced as she bit into her snack.

“They’re not that much shorter,” he said, hastily looking anywhere but at those legs. “And you shouldn’t ever feel guilty about travelling in comfort. It’s performance enhancing anyway. Much quieter if you need to get some work done and the food’s higher quality, therefore better for our systems.”

“OK,” she laughed. “You don’t have to justify anything to me. I’m lapping this up, but do we have to work all the way to Montreal?”

“Yes. You can ride on the flight deck and watch George doesn’t misbehave.”

Puzzled, she thought for a moment, remembered he must mean the autopilot,
then stuck her tongue out at him. She was relieved at his light-hearted mood. Big brotherly was good. She could handle that very well.

He ripped open a packet of gourmet potato crisps and offered them to her. “You might even find a movie you haven’t seen before. Truthfully, Andrea, I’d recommend using this flight as a buffer between working at home and all the stuff we’ll be doing over there. Believe me when I say I shan’t be opening my briefcase unless it’s to take out my John Grisham paperback.”