Hot Single Docs: Happily Ever After: St Piran's: The Brooding Heart Surgeon / St Piran's: The Fireman and Nurse Loveday / St Piran's: Tiny Miracle Twins. Kate Hardy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Of every waking moment, at least.

      But nothing more was said about it despite their paths crossing frequently when they shared a busy outpatient clinic and more than once during ward rounds and departmental meetings. By Friday, both Colin and Roger were on the ward and recuperating well and finally, late that afternoon, Luke got a call to the office of St Piran’s chief executive officer.

      ‘Luke.’ Albert White shook one hand and gripped Luke’s other shoulder at the same time. ‘I’m so sorry this has taken so long. It’s been a hectic week that included a day or two in London. Welcome back. It’s good to see you.’

      ‘It’s good to see you too.’ And it was, except that he could feel the distance between them. He’d been on another planet since he had last worked here. But Albert was a familiar face. Part of the anchor that Luke hoped to use to stabilise his life.

      ‘How’s the family?’

      ‘All well when I last heard any news.’

      ‘I was astonished to hear that your parents had taken off to New Zealand, of all places. I hear they’re living on a military base in North Island?’

      ‘They are indeed. Dad’s taken an administrative position. He calls it a semi-retirement but I can’t see him ever not being full-time army.’

      ‘No. And your older brother?’

      ‘Currently in Australia. Helping train their SAS.’

      Albert shook his head. ‘Army family through and through. At least we’ve got one of the Davenport boys back again.’

      ‘Yes.’ The word was clipped. Luke didn’t want to discuss the ‘Davenport boy’ who would never make it back.

      There was a moment’s silence, which seemed appropriate, and when Albert spoke again his tone was more serious, acknowledging so many things that were not going to be said.

      ‘How’s the leg?’

      ‘Oh, you know. Still attached. Still works. I’m not complaining.’

      Albert chuckled. ‘Works pretty well from what I’ve been hearing. What’s with the commando techniques in the canteen? Leaping tall buildings on the agenda, too?’

      Luke summoned a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’

      ‘Well done, anyway. I hear the chap’s doing really well.’

      ‘He is. Dr Bartlett did a quadruple bypass on him. She’s an excellent surgeon.’

      ‘She is indeed.’ The glance Luke received held a hint of relief. Any awkward subjects were being left well behind. ‘So things are working out, then? You two going to be able to work as a team?’

      Luke couldn’t detect even a hint that the CEO might be fishing for any confessions regarding a bumpy start. Maybe he should say something about it himself but if Anna had chosen not to, perhaps he should respect her decision. Albert didn’t seem to notice that his silence was covering a moment of confusion.

      ‘Not that I expected any problems, but it was good to hear Anna singing your praises the other day. A pericardectomy, I hear?’

      ‘Urn … yes. First case. What did she say?’

      ‘That you did the entire procedure off bypass. That she was delighted to have the opportunity to learn something new.’

      About the procedure? Or about him?

      This meeting was nothing more than touching base. A welcome home.

      ‘Come and have dinner some time soon. Joan would love to catch up.’

      ‘Sure. Maybe when I’ve had time to find my feet properly.’ Luke hoped his vague acceptance would not seem rude but he wasn’t ready to get drawn into a segment of the St Piran’s community that knew his family so well. He wasn’t here because of the family connection. He was here because he’d had nowhere else to go.

      Besides, he was getting into a routine now. An icy swim in the ocean at daybreak to chase away the night’s demons. As many hours as possible focused entirely on his job and then exercise and work-related reading until he was hopefully exhausted enough to sleep for more than a few hours. He didn’t want to tamper with what seemed to be working. Or remind himself of the past, which would only emphasise too clearly how different life was now. Control was paramount.

      Control could be undermined by confusion, however. Anna had had a whole week to decide how to present her concerns about his skills but she hadn’t done so.

      Why not?

      Not that Luke wasn’t grateful but he was definitely puzzled. She’d agreed that the matter should be reported. That sloppy performance wasn’t acceptable. And yet she had apparently accepted his.

      Why?

      He would have spoken to her about it before leaving work that day but it was late and she had already gone. It wasn’t hard to use his influence to find her contact details but Luke discovered that she was living well along the windy coast road that led to Penhally.

      A phone call to thank her for making his first week back smoother than it might have otherwise been seemed too impersonal. What he said might even be taken the wrong way—tacit approval for not reporting the incident perhaps. Taking a fifteen-or twenty-minute drive to what was quite possibly only a small collection of dwellings and knocking on her door after dark was a long way too far towards the other end of the spectrum, however. Far too personal. Why was he even considering it?

      It didn’t seem nearly as inappropriate on Saturday morning. Especially as the world in general seemed a brighter place. Days and days of grey skies and intermittent rain had been blown inland by a stiff sea breeze and the sun was making a determined effort to raise the temperature by at least a degree or two. The surf had been high enough that morning to make his swim an adrenaline rush, and his leg hadn’t collapsed under him when he’d attempted a slow jog on the softer sand.

      Yes. For the first time since arriving back, Luke felt that things were a little less bleak. Some time out on a day like this to drive up to Penhally and revisit old haunts was an attractive idea. He might have intended to wait until Monday to give Anna the excellent article on restrictive cardiomyopathy he’d come across in one of the journals he’d been reading until the early hours of that morning but if it was in the car, he’d have the perfect excuse to drop in at her house on his way past if he chose to.

      He did choose to.

      Maybe because the signpost to the lane she lived on was so easy to spot. Or perhaps because the house he found at her address was so unlike what he might have expected. Not even a house. More like a cottage with its latticed windows and some kind of evergreen creeper scrambling along the faded shingles of its roof. The small garden was overgrown and … it had a picket fence, for heaven’s sake!

      If someone had asked him where he thought Dr Bartlett would be living, he would have imagined a modern apartment. Streamlined and minimalist. Devoid of personality—hers or its own. This cottage probably had tourists stopping to take its picture and a name somewhere under the tangled, prickly branches obscuring half the fence. Bay View Cottage perhaps, given the glorious sweep of Penhally Bay on display. It was only a short walk down the hill to get to a beach СКАЧАТЬ