Risk of a Lifetime (Mills & Boon Medical) (16 page)

‘And I’m worried about you. Marnie told me when we went out for dinner that he hasn’t had the test.’

Wow. The two women really had got straight down to business. ‘He has,’ she corrected. ‘He just hasn’t got the result—and he’s never told Marnie that, so please don’t.’

‘Of course I won’t. But it doesn’t stop me worrying about you.’

‘There’s no need, really. I’m a grown woman, I know the score.’

‘It doesn’t stop you hurting.’

Annie smiled gently. ‘I know that.’

She kissed her mother’s cheek, let herself out and walked round to his house. There was no answer to the front doorbell, so she walked round to the back and went up on tiptoe and peered over the gate.

His car was there, and she could hear the steady, rhythmic creak of the swing seat. The gate yielded to her touch, and she went in, ducked under the arch and met his eyes.

‘You didn’t answer the doorbell.’

‘I didn’t hear it.’

‘May I come in?’

He shrugged. ‘Looks like you have.’

She sighed softly and sat down at the other end of the seat, breaking his rhythm. He set it going again, steadfastly ignoring her.

Fair enough. She hadn’t expected it to be easy.

‘Have you eaten?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘I thought you’d say that. You haven’t eaten all day, and nor have I. Let’s go and get fish and chips.’

The swing seat stopped for a moment, then started again, the creak beginning to get on her nerves.

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because someone has to, and it strikes me there’s nobody else. Who’s looking after Marnie?’

‘My parents. She’s staying with them. I’m not sure how long it’ll last.’

She nodded. Going back to the house would be hard for her. Easier, maybe, if she hadn’t gone away. And when she came back, Ed would be with her, she was sure of it. But for now...

‘So while she’s away, you can neglect yourself?’

He got to his feet, angry now. ‘OK, have it your own way,’ he growled. ‘We’ll go and get fish and chips.’

Well, at least she’d got a reaction out of him. She waited while he snagged a jumper in case it got colder, locked the house, opened the gates and started the car.

‘Well, get in, then.’

She got in, and he drove out, shut the gates, put down the roof of the car and headed for the chip shop. He didn’t ask her what she wanted, just went in and left her there with the keys in the ignition. She wasn’t stupid enough to leave the car, and a few minutes later he came back with a plain paper parcel and handed it to her.

‘Cod and chips twice, with salt and vinegar. That do you?’

‘Yes, it’ll do me fine. Thank you.’

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort, and headed to the cliff-top, parking in Marnie’s drive.

‘We’ll go to the beach hut,’ he said, and set off without her, leaving her to follow meekly behind.

Or not so meekly.

She knew what he was doing. He was trying to drive her out, but she could handle that. He was hurting. She could see it in every line of his body, every glance of his eyes, every word he spoke to her.

Because he loved her, too?

Very likely. Well, he’d be going soon, and there’d be plenty of time to deal with the fallout then. In the meantime, she hurried after him, trying to keep up with his punishing stride.

And then she stopped hurrying, followed him at her own pace and arrived at the beach hut just in time for him to have opened it all up and got out the chairs.

‘Want plates?’

She raised a brow, handed him one of the packets and settled back to eat.

* * *

He watched her out of the corner of his eye.

God, he wanted her. Wanted to hold her close, bury himself in her and lose himself. But first, he realised, he wanted to eat. He was ravenous, and he ate every morsel.

And then, with a hint of a smile in her eyes, she handed him the remains of her chips and watched him finish them.

‘Better?’

And at last he smiled. It was a pretty poor effort, but she was massively relieved to see it, and she leant over and kissed him. ‘Hello again.’

His smile became wry. ‘Sorry. I’ve been a bastard.’

‘No, you’ve been hurting. It’s fine. Just don’t shut me out, please? You don’t have to put on an act for me, Ed.’

He gave a soft laugh. ‘Do you know what I really want to do? I want to take you to bed.’

‘So what’s stopping you?’

‘Proximity.’

‘What, the lack of it?’

‘No, of the house. There are things I have to do before Marnie comes home. Get the loaned hospital bed returned. Reinstate the dining room. Give the house a thorough clean.’

‘Let me help you.’

He stared at her. ‘You’d do that?’

Annie rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I’d do that! What, you think I just want the good bits? Sex and Prosecco? It sounds like the title of a really tacky book.’

He laughed softly, then searched her eyes intently.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious. Shall we go and have a look now?’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Come on. Have you got the keys?’

‘Of course.’

They shut up the beach hut and made their way back up the steps to the empty, silent house. It was the first time she’d been in, only the second time she’d been there, the first being when they’d collected the playhouse for the children, and for all it had weary décor and dated furnishings, she loved it.

‘Wow, what a fabulous house.’

‘It is. It’s simple, but it doesn’t need to be fancy. It’s got the sea view.’

She turned and looked out through the sitting-room window, and shook her head slowly. ‘That is so beautiful.’

‘It’s better from the bedrooms. You can see up to Aldeburgh and down to Felixstowe.’

He stopped talking, glanced towards the door, and she slipped her hand into his. ‘Right, let’s have a look at this room, then.’

He nodded briefly, led her back down the hall and opened a door on the other side, near the back.

She heard the slight suck of his breath, and squeezed his hand before letting go. ‘OK. Let’s get started.’

They worked to midnight, then went back to his house and went to bed.

She didn’t mean to stay, but somehow they ended up falling asleep, and his alarm woke them at six.

‘Yikes!’ she squealed, and catapulted out of bed and tugged on her clothes. ‘I’ll see you at work—are you OK?’

He smiled wryly. ‘I’m fine. Thank you, Annie. Go on, go and sort the kids out. I’ll see you later.’

To his surprise, he
was
fine. She’d helped him overcome the first hurdle with the house, tackled the thing he’d been dreading most and driven out the ghosts. And fed him. He mustn’t forget that. He hadn’t realised how hungry he’d been until she’d made him eat last night.

He stretched, threw back the covers and headed for the shower.

* * *

The funeral was lovely, a celebration of Ned’s life, and both Marnie and Ed stood up to talk about him.

How did they do that? Annie had no idea, but they did, and it was incredibly moving and touching and funny. They went back to the house afterwards, restored to normal after a lot of hard work and effort, and everyone mingled in the garden.

Her mother found someone else she knew, and while they were engaged in conversation Marnie sought her out.

‘Annie.’

‘Oh, Marnie. How are you?’

She steered her away and walked slowly down the garden with her. ‘I’m fine. I’m sad, but I’m fine. I was so lucky to have him, and for all the agony of the past few years, I wouldn’t change a moment of it—well, apart from taking away his suffering, but I couldn’t do that, sadly.’ She stopped walking and took Annie’s hand and held it tight.

‘I wanted to thank you so much for everything you’ve done to help Ed in the past week. He tells me you’ve been amazing.’

‘Oh, Marnie, it was nothing. I couldn’t let him face it alone, or you. A problem shared and all that, and it really wasn’t so much once we got down to it.’

She nodded. ‘He loves you, you know.’

‘I know. I love him, too, and I’ve told him that.’

She laughed softly. ‘I don’t suppose he wanted to hear it?’

‘No.’

‘No, he wouldn’t. And he won’t do anything about it, because he’s afraid he might have the defective gene and he won’t find out. He’s told me he has, of course, but I know he’s lying. He’s never been able to lie to me, not since he was a toddler and stole some sweets from a jar. He still gets that same shifty look.’

That made Annie laugh. ‘I can imagine. He has had the test, you know,’ she went on, and Marnie smiled sadly.

‘I know. I also know he hasn’t had the result. Just call it intuition. And I need to know he’s going to be all right. I’m just so afraid for him, so racked with guilt because it came from me, but thank God my daughter hasn’t got it, and my son won’t suffer from it. And of course Ed’s brother, Peter, hasn’t got the gene either, but I just don’t know about Ed and I need to know, Annie. I need to know so I can die in peace.’

Oh, no.

‘Marnie, I can’t ask him to get the result,’ she said gently. ‘It has to be his decision.’

She nodded. ‘I know. I’m just being selfish. But don’t let him drive you away, Annie. He’d try to, because he’s got some crazy notion that if he doesn’t let himself love, then he won’t be missing out, but you and I both know that’s nonsense and he’s got so much to give.’

Annie glanced up, catching his eye across the lawn, and smiled. ‘He has. Don’t worry, Marnie, I’m working on it. And I’m not a quitter.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, because even if he has the gene, even if he’ll never have children of his own, he’d be a wonderful father to your girls.’

‘I know. I just have to convince him of that.’

‘Well, good luck with that one. He’s nothing if not stubborn. He’s so like Ned in that respect.’ She kissed Annie’s cheek. ‘I have to go and circulate. I just wanted to thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’

Marnie walked away, quickly absorbed by the throng, and Ed appeared at her side. ‘Don’t tell me. She wants you to get me to get the result.’

‘Actually, she wanted to thank me for helping you,’ she corrected, only partially honestly, but she wasn’t dumping Marnie in it. ‘That was a lovely service. He would have been proud of you.’

He gave a huff of laughter and glanced around. ‘How long do you think I need to stay?’

‘To the end. Marnie needs you. The next few hours will be the hardest for her. Don’t leave her alone.’

She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘We’ve got to go now and pick up the children, and I’ve got to get back to work. You take care of yourself and Marnie. I’ll see you soon. Love you.’

He watched her go, her words echoing in his head.

She disappeared from view, and he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, suddenly swamped by emotion.

I love you, too, Annie Brooks. I love you, too, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it...

CHAPTER NINE

O
VER
THE
NEXT
few days, things settled down.

Ed’s grief receded, Marnie seemed to be coping, and work was as busy as ever. But there was still the question of Annie.

He’d used Marnie as an excuse to create a little distance between them outside work, but in their working hours they were thrown together constantly and it was killing him.

Like now. There she was, stripping off her gloves and plastic apron, heading towards him with a smile. He knew what she was going to say—

‘Coffee? Before that blasted phone rings again?’

He hesitated for a heartbeat, and gave in.

‘Coffee sounds great,’ he said, and lobbing his gloves and apron into the bin he held the door of Resus open for her.

‘So how are things?’ she asked as they followed the path round to the café.

‘OK, I think. She seems to be coping.’

‘So my mother said. She and Marnie are taking the girls to the beach hut today. I was asking about you.’

‘Me? I’m fine.’

Apart from losing my best friend and cutting myself off from the only woman I’ve ever loved.

She gave him a frankly disbelieving look, but they were in the queue for coffee and not even Annie would challenge him in those circumstances.

He added a blueberry muffin and a banana to the coffees, paid the bill and ushered her out.

‘Well, here we are again,’ she said, settling onto the bench he’d come to think of as theirs. ‘So, how are you, really?’

He shrugged. ‘Actually, I am all right. I miss him, but I’ve missed him for years. We lost him about three years ago in terms of his personality. More, maybe. It was just very sudden at the end, but then I’m not sure you’re ever really ready to say goodbye.’

He looked at her, scanned her face and wondered how, when he left—which he would do—he’d ever say goodbye to her. He’d do it, because he had to, but he’d never be ready. Not if he lived to be a hundred.

‘What are you doing this evening?’ she asked, changing the subject out of the blue.

‘Why?’

She gave him a slow, understanding smile. ‘I thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together, take your mind off things a bit. I could cook for us.’

‘At your house?’

‘No. At yours.’

He was tempted. He knew how it would end up, though, with them tangled in his bedding, gasping for breath and waiting for the aftershocks to fade away before they started again. He looked away, afraid his eyes would give him away. His body was certainly having a good go.

‘I ought to see Marnie.’

‘Really?’

No, not really. He hadn’t planned to see her, and she’d made it quite clear that she was happy spending time alone going through Ned’s things and remembering the good times. But—Annie?

‘Annie, this isn’t going anywhere,’ he said heavily.

Her smile was tender and made him want to haul her into his arms and hold her tight. ‘I know that. I’m being selfish. I want to spend time with you while I can.’

Selfish? Not his Annie. She was trying to look after him, make sure he ate, make sure he wasn’t falling into depression. Which he wasn’t. He just wanted her, and he couldn’t have her, and she was making it impossibly difficult to walk away cleanly.
And she wasn’t his
Annie!