The Midwife And The Single Dad (11 page)

‘If we’d been together in Edinburgh then I might have married you instead of making the big mistake I did make. We could have come back to Soalay as we planned.’

This was dangerous talk, she had to put him right. ‘No, Ben, no one knows what might have happened. Perhaps we needed time apart. But then you make a choice and you have to live with it—and with its consequences.’

‘True.’ His tone was morose.

She felt she had to go on. ‘And there have been consequences. You’ve been hurt, I’ve been hurt. But you’ve got Fiona and you love your life here. I’m getting over what happened to me—but I don’t want to be tied down. I’m here for respite for a year and then I’m going to carry on with my career in London. I’m going to be a high-flyer.’

‘I can tell that,’ he said. ‘You’ve got the drive for it, you always did.’

‘Things aren’t the same,’ she told him. ‘They can’t be. We’ve both got our paths to follow now and they’re different.’

She paused. She half wondered, half hoped that he was going to contradict her. But he remained silent. So dolefully she said, ‘Look, the rain’s getting less. Perhaps we ought to go.’

‘Have you remembered what you wanted to remember?’

‘I have. But memories are in the past and we have to live in the present.’

But as they dashed back to the car she wondered if
all they were doing was trying to recapture the past. The past was memories, her feelings were of today. Then she had been an eighteen-year-old, unsure of the world and what she wanted from it. Now she was a mature woman and her feelings were vastly different from those of the child she had been. Now she was in love. Really in love. But she dared not say anything.

S
HE
didn’t know then how much that was going to be a day to remember.

Ben came into her clinic with her, he needed to check the notes that had been made on a young boy some time ago. His mother had brought him in, declaring very loudly that the nurse had not given him his due injections three years before. Ben was not so sure.

While he was leafing through the notes Alice checked her messages. One made her frown—from Cara Garrett in Lonkille. Her husband was away. And two-year-old Hamish had gone down with a very bad cold—possibly even flu. Cara was worried—what should she do? Should she call out the doctor?

‘This is partly for you,’ Alice said when Ben came back to her room and played the message for him. ‘My guess is that there’s probably nothing wrong with him but I’d like to check. Cara seems to me to be a pretty sensible person. I’ll phone her, tell her to put Hamish to bed with plenty of liquids and I’ll drive out there later this evening. The rain might have stopped by then.’

‘It won’t have stopped, it’s going to get worse.
Anyway, this is a call for me as much as for you. You call Cara and tell her that someone will come later, I’ll go home and put Fiona to bed and then come back here to pick you up. Say, in a couple of hours?’

‘There’s really no need, Ben! I can cope quite well.’ But secretly she was pleased that Ben wanted to come with her. She didn’t fancy driving all that way through this torrential rain.

‘As you say, it’s likely to be as much my case as yours. See you in two hours.’ And he was gone.

He seemed very keen on the trip, Alice thought as she watched his car drive out of the car park. Almost as if he wanted to spend time with her. But hadn’t they just spent time together? And agreed that they were following different paths, that they had to live in the present? She thought it a bit odd.

However, when he came back to pick her up she was more than pleased. It seemed impossible but the weather had got worse. She had never experienced anything like this in London—and seldom here, in her childhood. The rattle of rain on the vehicle’s roof was almost deafening, the rain was hitting the tarmac in front of them and bouncing upwards.

He drove cautiously as visibility was minimal. And the road was often covered with water. It got worse when they had to pass through the boggy section, Alice was glad that Ben was doing the driving. Of course, she could have coped. But she was happy that she didn’t have to.

They arrived at Cara’s house, the cottage looking decidedly woebegone in the rain. But all was well inside. Like so many medical callouts, the problem was the
parent’s anxiety rather than the patient’s illness. Hamish did have a very bad cold, but rest, drink and infant paracetamol to lower his temperature were all that he really needed. Still, that’s what you had to expect as a nurse or doctor.

The weather was just as bad on the way back. But because they were going home, Alice felt more relaxed. She chatted easily to Ben, sticking to subjects that interested them both but which weren’t personal. Scottish independence, yes or no? They could debate that for hours.

She wondered if she should invite Ben in for a drink. She’d like him to come in but she still wasn’t quite sure of his attitude to her. He had kissed her twice now—that was, kissed her twice as if it had meant something. And she was sure it had meant as much to him as it had to her. But to invite him in for a drink? Might he think that it was an invitation to something more? Did she
want
to invite him to something more? It was all rather difficult. And she was pleasantly tired.

They talked about the advantages of a dedicated birthing unit. Then they talked about the differences in work between that of a country GP and a city-centre GP. Ben, of course, thought that the country GP’s work was more satisfying. Both were relaxed, enjoying themselves. Which was, of course, when things tended to happen.

The rain was as hard as ever but now the wind had grown. The Land Rover was buffeted, she could feel it rocking underneath her, but Ben drove on steadily. She decided she’d be glad to get home.

They came to a small bridge that crossed a stream at the edge of the marshlands. Ben slowed, drove carefully
in the centre of the road. Suddenly the Land Rover skidded to the edge of the bridge, lurched sideways at what seemed an impossible angle. Alice looked downwards. She could see running water just below her. She screamed, they were going to drop into the river, she’d be trapped and she’d drown! Beside her she heard Ben curse, felt rather than saw him heave at the steering-wheel.

It couldn’t have been long, perhaps a second. But to Alice it felt like a lifetime. The vehicle teetered on the edge, then the wheels got a grip and dragged it back onto the road.

Alice couldn’t help it. Perhaps she was safe now but she sobbed as if her life was in danger.

Ben drew up a dozen yards down the road. He unfastened both their safety belts then pulled her to him. She heard his voice, no, she felt his voice—gentle, comforting, reassuring. ‘Alice, you’re all right. That was a bit exciting for a moment but you’re all right now. You’re safe. Alice, it’s all right.’

She had to cling to him. There was comfort in the smell of his jacket, the strength of his arms round her. Slowly she came back to normal. She felt her heartbeat steady, stopped sniffing and lifted her head from his shoulder. He offered her a handkerchief. And then, just a bit, came shame. ‘Sorry, I overreacted. I didn’t mean to go on like that. It’s just that I…’

‘It’s OK, there’s nothing to worry about. I was scared myself—though the water there isn’t very deep.’

He frowned. ‘We’d better get you home. You must be tired, we’ll get you back and you can have an early night.’

‘I’m not tired! I was terrified! I’ve always been terrified since…since…’

And then he remembered. ‘Of course! You were in an accident when you were twelve! I remember you telling me about it—your dad’s car rolled into a stream. For a moment your head was under water and you’ve been terrified ever since.’

‘I’m all right with water and I’m all right in cars. But if there’s any chance of a car going into water then I just lose control. It’s stupid I know but…’

‘It’s not stupid! It’s a perfectly natural reaction. But now we’re in no great hurry. I want you to sit here with me, lean against me. In a moment I’ll put my arms round you and you must try to relax.’ He took her hand, felt for her pulse. ‘You’re not over it yet, are you? But it’s finished now and you’re all right.’

Of course she knew what he was doing. The soft voice was hypnotic, he was reassuring her, telling her that all would be well, doing all the things, in fact, that she would do herself for someone suffering from shock. But it didn’t matter that she knew what he was doing. She could feel it working. And there was something more, there was a touch of sincerity in his voice that convinced her that his care for her was genuine. Whatever it was, she liked it.

She just lay against him. He was big and strong and comforting and she wanted to stay here for ever. Just a minute! She was a medical professional herself! She had to be able to deal with emergencies. She sat upright, pulling away from him.

‘Ben! We’re not the only people to use this road.
Don’t you think you ought to phone the police, tell them about the damage to the bridge? The next people along might not be as lucky as us.’

‘Good point. I’ll do it at once.’ He felt in his pocket for his mobile and she listened to his incisive voice. ‘Sergeant Cullen? Dr Cavendish. I’m by the bridge on the Bunness Road and there’s a bit of a problem here. Half the bridge had broken away… The first bridge after the turning… Right.’

There was more conversation and then he turned to Alice and said, ‘Sergeant Cullen will organise someone from the council to come at once and see what can be done—even if it’s only closing the road. Now we will get you home.’

He came up to her flat with her. Alice looked at the clock and blinked. It was only nine p.m. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said.

‘Would you like me to leave you alone or would you like some company for a few minutes? After you’ve had a shock, it’s sometimes good to have someone around even if they don’t do very much.’

‘If you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay for a while,’ she said. ‘But what about Fiona?’

‘She’s long since asleep and if she does wake up, Mrs McCann will see to her. How are you feeling now?’

How was she feeling? Better, much better. And somehow restless. ‘I’m improving by the minute,’ she told him. ‘Why don’t you pick some music while I make us some tea?’

She hurried into the kitchen to put the kettle on and
then went into her bedroom and changed out of her uniform into trousers and a big loose shirt. She remained barefoot. When she took the tray of tea and biscuits into her living room she found that he had chosen one of her favourite old collections to play—that was, one of their old favourites. Call her old-fashioned but she felt that there was no mood music like that of Frank Sinatra.

Ben was sitting on her couch. She put the tray in front of him on her coffee-table and sat by him. A conscious, deliberate decision. She sat by him, not opposite him. They both drank tea and then he took her wrist, felt her pulse. ‘Still a bit fast and erratic,’ he said. ‘I thought it might have settled down by now.’

‘Perhaps it will in time. But now let me take your pulse.’

He offered her his wrist, she wrapped her fingers round it. ‘I think yours might be a bit fast too,’ she said.

‘But that near-accident didn’t really bother me.’

‘I think we’ve gone beyond the accident, haven’t we?’

Somehow, she was no longer taking his pulse, she was holding his hand. And somehow their other hands were together too. Just holding hands. They sat there together with that the only contact, and for a while that was quite enough for her. For a while.

Then he leaned forward, wrapped his arms round her and gathered her to him. She felt calm, relaxed there, almost as if she were coming home. This was proper, this was what ought to be. For now this was where she belonged.

His kiss, when it came, was gentle, tentative, as if he wasn’t quite sure of the reception he might get. But she loved it, and somehow he knew. She felt her body soften,
relax even more, as if all worry had gone from it. Whatever happened, it would be right. Because he was Ben and they were in…no, she would not say it, would not even think it. For the moment there was only now.

She stroked the back of his neck, played with his hair, caressed the hands that held her. It was so good to lie here like this. But it could not go on like this for ever.

The kiss deepened, became more demanding, his arms held her more tightly. Perhaps she heard his breathing, perhaps it was his increasing heartbeat, she could feel it under the softness of her breasts. And suddenly she wasn’t languorous any more. Excitement, anticipation throbbed through her. She was with Ben, she was his lover, not of fifteen years ago but a mature woman who knew what she needed and what she had to give. Giving! She needed to give to him.

He was Ben. She knew he was honest and fair and the last man on earth to take advantage of someone, especially of someone whom he… Well, someone he liked. So she was not surprised when he drew back. released her and took a deep shuddering breath. ‘Alice, this is not good. We’re both tired and we’re likely to do something that we will regret.’

‘It is good! You know it and so do I! Ben, this is no undertaking for the future. It is only now and I want exactly what you want. We’re old friends—old lovers, in fact—and we know we can trust each other. So come back to me.’

Now they were sitting at opposite ends of her couch. She crossed her arms, took hold of the loose shirt and pulled it over her head. She threw it on the floor and said again, ‘Come back to me.’ And waited.

He moved towards her. His hand stretched out, a finger stroked down the side of her face, across her neck, ran across the swell of her breasts. It was a tiny caress. But her heart beat to the feel of it. And then he was with her again, arms wrapped round her, straining her body to his. She revelled in the passion that she had unleashed in him, knew now that there could be only one possible ending to their evening. The kiss seemed to go on for ever. And then they were no longer sitting on the couch but standing by it. Kissing still, of course, but she knew that now things must be different. She felt a last tremor of anxiety, of fear even, but it passed at once.

It wasn’t like her. She had never been a coquette, never one to tease. But now was different. She stepped back from him, reached behind her and released the clip of her lacy white bra. Then she shook it from her shoulders. She linked her hands behind her neck and thrilled at his reaction, the desire that burned in his eyes as he saw the curve of arm, breast and waist.

‘Come with me,’ she said, and took him by the hand.

Her bedroom curtains were drawn, she flicked the switch of her bedside light and a dim yellow light cast shadows across the room.

She remembered his body from the past and felt a sudden urgency, a need to touch him, to press her hardened nipples against his chest. Ben’s fingers were tugging at her belt and buttons, trembling with a sudden controlled urgency, his usual sureness lost to passion. He gently pushed her trousers down to her hips and lowered her onto the bed. She smiled at the determined expression on his face as he lowered his head to hers.

He kissed her neck, her closed eyes, framed her face with his strong hands, kissed and stroked her into what felt like heaven. Her skin felt on fire, alive, loved, the tension of the accident leaving her body to be replaced with a drugged heavy pleasure, the warmth spreading to all her body, transforming to that sweet ache between her thighs.

Alice felt a warmth and happiness that transcended anything she had felt before. She tingled with anticipation, she wanted him to kiss her breasts, she wanted… she wanted all of him. Cruelty. He had stopped, he was struggling to undo his belt. She wanted to be naked against all of him, needed to be close to his maleness and wanted that feeling of being both protected and threatened by his masculinity. She needed to feel his body heat and the intensity of his need. She smiled, an impish quirky smile, and momentary doubt flickered across his face as, taking him by surprise, she pushed him so that now he was underneath her. She felt that fleeting power women had before sweet capitulation. His eyes gleamed in the soft light, his want written on his face. He seemed oddly vulnerable, younger, and for a moment she saw the Ben of fifteen years ago, and felt a brief sadness that he was gone for ever.