Risk of a Lifetime (Mills & Boon Medical) (14 page)

‘Nothing. They just want it out of the way, I think. Oh, and Ed’s lent us a key for their beach hut so we can take the girls down there when they’re not using it.’

‘Oh, how kind! Well, we really must give them something,’ she said, and then her eyes lit up. ‘Oh, I’ve got an idea, why don’t you use the restaurant voucher and take Ed out to dinner? After all, he’s the one who’s going to have to move it.’

Oh, the guilt, after what they’d planned! And she couldn’t let her mother give away her voucher, but then she had a brilliant idea.

‘No, Mum, you won it, you should go. Maybe Ed could look after his grandfather one evening and you and Marnie could go out? After all, it’s her we should be thanking, not Ed. I’m sure she’d love it, and so would you, and you could get to know her again.’

Which was in
no
way a good idea, she thought belatedly, but Marnie must be so lonely and isolated, and Annie was sure she could do with all the friends she could get. Caring for a terminally ill relative was physically and emotionally draining and the break would do Marnie good. And so what if the two of them did a little matchmaking? It couldn’t do any harm, so long as they weren’t both overly disappointed when it all came to nothing.

Which it would, she reminded herself firmly, and crushed her own sense of disappointment.

* * *

‘Oh, it looks lovely there,’ Jo said, beaming. ‘It’s just perfect!’

Ed gave a soft laugh. ‘Well, I don’t know about perfect. I oiled the door hinges and gave it a bit of a sweep but it could do with a thorough clean. It’s years since it’s been used.’

‘I’m sure we can manage that. Thank you so much, the girls will get so much pleasure from it,’ Annie said. She looked on the verge of tears, and the girls were jumping up and down in excitement and couldn’t wait to get inside.

‘Go on, then, open the door and go in,’ she said to them.

‘Me first!’

‘No, I’m the oldest!’

‘Hold hands and go in together, and play nicely or I’ll ask Ed to take it back again,’ she said firmly, and in they went like lambs.

He stifled a laugh and turned to her mother. ‘Marnie sends her love, by the way. She’d like to see you again.’

‘Well, that’s lovely because I want to see her, too, and I’d like to thank her for the playhouse and the offer of the use of the beach hut, but this involves you, I’m afraid, yet again. I won a voucher for a meal for two and I thought I could take her, if she’d like that, but I gather she can’t leave her husband alone—’

‘What a lovely idea! Thank you. I’m sure she’d be over the moon, she hasn’t been out in the evening for ages. And of course I’ll sit with him. It’s not a problem. I’ll liaise with Annie and find a time when we’re all free.’ He glanced at Annie, and then back to her mother.

‘In fact, talking of favours, are you busy now? I thought, since it’s a nice evening, I might take Annie down to the beach hut and show her where everything is and how it works. Things like turning the gas on and so forth, and then you could maybe take the girls down there tomorrow.’

‘Oh, what a marvellous idea! But she hasn’t eaten yet.’

He gave what he hoped was an innocent smile. ‘That’s fine. We can get fish and chips and make a cup of tea in the hut.’

‘Oh, that sounds like a great idea. Go now, while it’s still nice. I’ll get the girls to bed when they’ve had a bit of a play.’

‘Excuse me? I am here,’ Annie interrupted, hands on hips and eyebrows raised. ‘I need to shower and change before I can go anywhere.’

Ed met her eyes and managed not to laugh. She had a smear of green on one cheek from the outside of the playhouse, and he was sure he didn’t look any better. He rammed his hands in his pockets to stop him from reaching out and wiping the little green streak away with his fingers. ‘Me, too. I’ll come back and pick you up in half an hour.’

* * *

Annie crumpled up the paper and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. ‘That was amazing. I haven’t had fish and chips out of the paper for years and I don’t remember it ever being so good.’

‘Ah, well, you have to know where to go. Sometimes it’s gruesome.’ He took the ball of paper from her, walked over to a bin on the prom and put the rubbish in, and then leant on the rail at the edge and smiled contentedly. ‘Just listen to that.’

She went and stood beside him, staring out over the sea, listening to the gentle slap of the waves against the breakwater, the keening of the gulls wheeling overhead, the distant putter of an outboard motor.

Peace.

He shifted, turning to face her, his hip propped on the railings, and his eyes searched her face.

‘You OK?’

‘Mmm. Just thinking how lovely it is here. The girls are going to love it. It’s so kind of you to lend it to us, and the playhouse—well, that’s just amazing. There’s no way I could have afforded it. We just don’t have the resources, not until I’ve finished clearing up the financial mess left by my ex and my maternity leave, and they’ll have hours of fun in it...’

She felt herself well up again, and shook her head.

‘Hey.’ He tipped her chin up and smiled at her. ‘None of that. It’s only an old toy we didn’t need.’

‘No. It’s much more than that. It’s not the gift, although that’s amazing, it’s the way you’ve given it, given your time as much as anything. I couldn’t have moved it by myself even if we’d bought it second-hand from someone else, and I didn’t know about it, you need never have mentioned it, but you did, because you’re kind and thoughtful and generous—’ She broke off because she simply couldn’t speak any more, and she felt his fingers stroke her cheek, brushing away the tears.

‘I’m not your ex, Annie,’ he reminded her gently, and she looked up and met his intent gaze.

‘You don’t have to tell me that. Believe me, I know.’ She did. Oh, how well she knew it. They couldn’t be more different. She could trust Ed. With her heart? With the hearts of her children?

Yes. Absolutely, and he’d never let them down. But she couldn’t let it get that far, because he might die, and then they’d lose him...

She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath against the stab of pain, and she felt his hands slip to her shoulders, curling round them as he drew her towards him.

‘Ah, Annie, come here.’

His arms closed around her, easing her up against his chest, and she leant her head on it and listened to the steady, even beat of his heart beneath her ear. So calming. So reassuring.

I love you. Please don’t die.

He pressed his lips to her hair. ‘I brought some Prosecco,’ he murmured. ‘Do you want it here, or back at my house?’

She sucked in a breath and tilted her head back so she could read his eyes. Fire smouldered in them, carefully banked but there nonetheless. She put her fears on hold and gave herself to the moment.
Carpe diem
...

‘Here, I think.’ And then she added, ‘Are we still talking about the Prosecco?’ and he smiled slowly.

‘Well, Dr Brooks, you read my mind.’

She smiled back, turned with him and went into the beach hut, her heart tripping. He closed the doors, leaving a chink of light through the top of the curtains, and reached for her.

* * *

‘Oh, what a lovely beach hut! It’s so pretty!’

‘It is, isn’t it?’

And it was a miracle all the pretty pale blue paint hadn’t blistered off the walls.

Annie turned away from her mother, stuck her bottom lip out and blew her breath up over her face to cool it. That padded bench seat her mother was perched on now had a whole set of X-rated memories attached to it, and her face was going to be a total giveaway.

‘Oh, look, Mum. The girls are having fun on the sand already. They just love it. This is going to be such a blessing.’

‘I’m sure it will. Immensely civilised. Do you know how to put the kettle on? We could have coffee. I brought all the makings.’

‘Sure.’

If she could remember. He had shown her, but only after he’d addled her brains with that sexy smile and those clever little manoeuvres—

Don’t think about it!

But just to remind her, the empty Prosecco bottle was standing there on the side, too. They’d meant to take the bottle away with them, but they’d forgotten. She’d better mention it before her mother did.

‘So did you get fish and chips?’ her mother was asking.

‘Yes. We got it from the kiosk down on the prom on our way here, and it was really delicious. We just sat here with the gulls wheeling overhead and ate it out of the paper and had a glass of wine. It was lovely down here, so peaceful, and we hardly saw a soul.’

‘I looked into getting a beach hut, you know, but they’re so expensive, even to hire for a week. Our weather’s just not reliable enough.’

And now they were talking about the weather. Well, it was safer than dwelling any longer on what she and Ed Shackleton had done here last night with only the gulls for company...

* * *

He missed her.

Marnie and Jo had gone out for dinner, and he was sitting in the garden of his grandparents’ house and watching his grandfather sleeping through the patio door. The nightlight was on, bathing the old man in a soft, golden glow.

He looked utterly peaceful and at ease, and there was nothing to do, so he rang Annie.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi—is everything all right?’

He gave a quiet and slightly despairing laugh. ‘Yeah, I suppose so. He’s in bed, and I’m just sitting in the garden, watching him sleep through the window.’

‘How is he?’

‘Not great. He’s peaceful enough now, but he’s going downhill fast and I don’t think it’ll be long.’ His voice sounded rough, and he cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to unload like that.’

‘It’s fine, don’t apologise. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I want it over, Annie, for all our sakes. I just can’t bear watching him—’

‘It must be so hard.’

Her voice was gentle, reaching out to him, and he closed his eyes tightly against the stinging.

‘Tell me what you’re doing. Tell me about the girls. Just—talk to me, Annie...’

So she did, and he sat there with his eyes closed and listened to the warmth of her voice as she talked about the children and what they’d been doing, and the fun they’d had in the playhouse.

‘We cleaned it out on Monday after we got back from the beach, and I found an old dress covered in tiny flowers and cut it up to make curtains, and we put their toy kitchen in it and they cooked supper for us. I really can’t thank you enough. And Mum was so ridiculously pleased that Marnie wanted to go out with her tonight. I hope they’re having a nice time. They both deserve it.’

‘I’ve heard it’s really good,’ he said, finding his voice again. ‘Maybe we should go one day.’

‘That would be lovely.’

Except they weren’t supposed to be going public with this, but frankly he didn’t care any more what anyone thought, not for himself, although when he left Yoxburgh he didn’t want her hurt by the damage to her reputation.

He frowned. He didn’t want to think about leaving, for a whole host of reasons, but suddenly Annie seemed to be at the top of the list.

He glanced back at the house, just as the sitting-room light came on.

‘Ah. Marnie’s back. I’ll talk to you soon.’

‘OK. You take care.’

‘You, too. Sleep well.’

He hung up, got to his feet and walked quietly back to the house. He found Marnie in the kitchen, putting the kettle on.

‘Hi. How was it?’

‘Oh, lovely! It was so nice to see her again—she’s a lovely woman, I’d forgotten just how nice she is. And she thinks you’re fabulous, by the way.’

He gave a wry smile. ‘Does she, now?’

‘Yes, she does, and I don’t think she’s alone.’ Her smile faded and she searched his eyes. ‘Don’t hurt her, Edward. I know you don’t mean to, but as long as you’re still running from this thing, anyone that gets in the way is in danger of getting trampled.’

‘I won’t hurt her. She’s not looking for permanence, Marnie. We’re just having a bit of adult fun.’

She arched a slender brow at him in the way she had when he’d lied to her as a toddler, and he closed his eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Marnie, we’re all adults. I’m allowed a sex life.’

‘Of course you are, darling. You’re also allowed to be happy.’

He swallowed hard. ‘I am happy.’

‘Are you? I don’t think so. I think you’d like to be, and I think Annie’s got the ability to make you very happy, but I’m very afraid you won’t let it happen.’

He turned away, not prepared to discuss this with her, or anyone else, for that matter. Not even himself.

‘Grumps is settled now. His breathing’s a bit rough. I think he might have a chest infection.’

‘Antibiotics?’

It wasn’t a simple question, and it didn’t have a simple answer. He turned back, propping himself against the edge of the kitchen counter.

‘I don’t know. What do you think?’

Marnie shrugged her shoulders. They were getting thinner with the strain and worry. ‘I don’t know either. Will you stay the night? Keep an eye on him?’

‘Of course I will. I’m not working tomorrow.’

He hugged her, feeling how frail she was getting, how drained by it all. ‘I’m glad you had a nice time with Jo.’

‘So am I. Oh, Ed, what will I do without you?’ she said in a small voice that broke his heart.

‘You aren’t without me.’

‘Not now, I’m not, but we all know you’re not staying.’ She eased away from him and turned back to the kettle, made two mugs of tea and handed him one. ‘Here. Come and sit down and let me tell you all about the food. It was amazing.’

* * *

There was drama at work the next morning.

James was supposed to be working, but there was no sign of him, and at nine he stuck his head in and told them that his wife Connie was in labour.

‘Sorry, guys, got to bail on you, and I’m supposed to be on over the weekend, too. I don’t suppose there’s any way you could cover me, Andy, could you?’

Andy sighed sharply and shook his head. ‘Oh, James, I would, but it’s Daniel’s birthday and we’re having a family day out to the zoo. I can do Sunday—Annie, any chance you could do tomorrow?’

‘No, she can’t, you’re away, aren’t you?’ James said.