The Surgeon's Convenient Fiancée (Medical Romance) (3 page)

‘Jerry will be in a rage,’ Fleur said gleefully. ‘He just came in with three guys for drinks. I bet they want food as well.’

‘Yes, that’s part of the whole idea of going out,’ Deirdre said, gaining courage. ‘I’m not going to cook for him any more.’ The decision had sort of made itself, it seemed.

In spite of her antipathy to Jerry, she did not bad-mouth him to the children, as she did not want that to add to their underlying insecurity. Also, doing so, she suspected, would cause them to lose respect for her, even though their own feelings for him were very mixed and mostly negative. As far as possible, she tried to be neutral, while being open about problems at the same time. She was helped by the fact that part of her salary was paid out of a trust fund that had been set up by their mother. The children’s grandmother had been at pains recently to inform her of that fact. Now she clung to that knowledge. It was the grandmother who was the legal
guardian of the children, even though their mother had been married to Jerry.

‘Good for you, Dee,’ Mungo said, fully understanding. ‘They can get a take-away.’

‘This is Dr…um…er…Shay Melburne,’ she said, introducing him as they got into the back of the car. ‘Dr Melburne, this is Mungo and Fleur McGregor.’

‘Very pleased to meet you both,’ the doctor said, twisting around and leaning over from the front to shake hands with them in turn.

Mungo, who had untidy dark hair and steel-rimmed glasses, and was thin and deceptively boyish, gave the doctor the once-over. ‘Have you known Dee very long?’ he asked in a tone which Deirdre recognized as protective, and she smiled. Perhaps he thought that she had a man friend who might take her away from them.

‘It…er…seems like a very long time,’ Shay said, and Deirdre looked at him sharply, detecting a note of sardonic humour in his voice. She hoped he was not regretting his impulsive invitation. As though sensing exactly what she was thinking, he smiled at her, causing her heart to feel as though it were
being squeezed, and she thought again how attractive he was, especially when he smiled. How nice it was to be smiled at by an attractive man…one she had begun to like, who did not seem to have a hidden agenda where she was concerned.

Fleur was equally thin, pretty in an understated way, with her fair hair and blue eyes. She had braces on her teeth, which added to her endearingly gawky and fragile air. ‘Where are we going to eat?’ she asked, lisping slightly because of the braces.

‘I thought I’d take you to The Joker, down by the waterfront,’ Shay said. ‘It’s vegetarian. Very good. They have great pizza.’

‘Ooh!’ Fleur said, impressed. ‘Some of my friends have been there. They rave about it. Did you used to work with Dee when she was a nurse?’

‘Regrettably, we’ve never worked together,’ he said. ‘You could just say we met in the hospital environs.’

‘Just hanging out?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Cool,’ Fleur said.

‘Real cool,’ Mungo said. ‘She didn’t tell us
about you, and she’s been with us for two and a half years.’

‘I expect she wanted to keep me all to herself up to now,’ Shay said, sounding as though he wanted to laugh. ‘It was my idea that the two of you might want to go out to eat, as I invited her.’

‘Way to go!’ Mungo said. ‘Thank you.’

As they drove away down the lane, Deirdre was aware that the two children were happy to be in secure male company, to be taken out for a meal, as the attention they got from Jerry was sporadic and cursory. The novelty of it was making them smile with anticipation. For one thing, Jerry was in business, import and export, and was away a lot. Sometimes she thought that his work was of a dubious nature, perhaps to do with money-laundering, but she kept that idea strictly to herself and did not even hint to him that she knew or cared what he did, much less to Mungo and Fleur.

Dr Melburne called ahead on his mobile phone to reserve a table for them. ‘Just to make sure we won’t have to wait,’ he said. Deirdre, sitting silently next to him, thought
what an attractive name Shay was. She had never heard it before. It seemed to suit him to perfection. Beyond that, she did not want to speculate about him too much, about his private life. For the first time in a long time, part of her was feeling human again, not just the embodiment of a role that had somehow become too much for her, in spite of her love for Mungo and Fleur. The other part of her was teetering towards the brink of something. Perhaps it was a showdown with Jerry.

Now she felt the first glimmerings of what it might be like to have a partner that one could rely on, love and be loved by. Then she pushed that thought out of her mind. No point in speculating about this very attractive man whom she would not have met in normal circumstances, the way her life was now. Out of the goodness of his heart, it seemed, he was rescuing her for a short while from the routine of her life.

The restaurant was crowded, yet a table had been reserved for them, by a window overlooking the harbour of Prospect Bay, where lights twinkled and glistened on the water. It was the sort of restaurant where you could
feel private, even though most of the tables were taken, the tables separated by tall potted plants.

Within a very short time Fleur and Mungo had perused the menu and chosen unusual pizzas, with very inventive vegetarian toppings.

‘They always have great soup here, and you can get a variety of fish,’ Shay said to Deirdre, leaning close to her so that he could make himself heard above the general hum of conversation in the large open-plan restaurant. When she turned to look at him she met his curious glance, which held in it a veiled interest, as a man would look at a woman he found attractive. Deirdre felt his frision of interest and answering acute awareness in herself. She looked away instantly from his regard and pretended to study the menu, even though the print danced before her eyes and she could not take it in. His close proximity was all that she could think of…that and how vulnerable she had become to such interest, how much she needed that affirmation of her attractiveness, how much she needed empathetic male company.

Before she had made up her mind, the waiter was beside them and the children had placed their order in seconds. The waiter was looking at her expectantly.

‘I…I’ll have the soup of the day, please,’ she said. ‘And whatever fish you would recommend…the catch of the day, and a glass of white house wine.’

Perhaps, she thought as he made some squiggles on a notepad, you could tell a lot about a person from the choices they made in restaurants. Her choice, she thought vaguely, would categorize her as a sensible, utilitarian woman, who was concerned about spending someone else’s money. Certainly, you could tell a lot about the background of a person from their table manners. Such petty speculations distracted her for a moment or two from the deeper issues of her life. At the centre of her problems was the one of finding a man to love, someone who would want her with two children who were not her own. She did not think that her chances were very great of finding such a one. That realization filled her with despair. Sometimes she could visualize herself waiting until Mungo and Fleur
were in university before she could find a husband for herself, could hope to have her own children. Perhaps then it would be too late.

Shay also ordered soup and fish, but not the specials of the day, and a glass of wine, though not the house wine. What that said about him was that he did not have to count the pennies, she thought, but he was not an extravagant man, given to excess. Deirdre was distracting herself from the inevitable confrontation with Jerry when they got back to the house and Shay would be gone.

When the waiter had gone, Shay turned to the children. ‘Tell me about yourselves,’ he invited. ‘About your hobbies and interests.’ Because he sounded genuinely interested—
was
interested—Deirdre warmed to him even more, while cautioning herself at the same time not to get used to having him around. Very soon he would be out of their lives and she would never see him again. This was one of those strange interludes in which fate gave you a glimpse of a world that might, remotely, be yours if circumstances could be different.

The children were taken aback and pleased
that someone would ask them about their interests, because strangers usually asked them first what grade they were in at school, how they were doing at school, and so on. Then, usually, the eyes of those strangers would glaze with boredom when an attempt was made to give a genuine answer. The last thing they wanted to talk about was school. They wanted to get away from it, the academic worries that hung over them. Very quickly they were in an animated three-way conversation about horseriding, boating, hiking, drama, reading and so on, while Deirdre sat back and listened, quite happy to be in the background so that she could collect her muddled thoughts. This was the best part of a strange day.

When the food came, Shay turned his attention to her. ‘May I call you Deirdre?’ he asked. ‘Or do you prefer Dee?’

‘Deirdre,’ she said. Only the children and a few old schoolfriends called her Dee. With this man she felt like a Deirdre…Deirdre of the Sorrows, as he had reminded her. That was her all right.

‘Call me Shay,’ he said. Again, he smiled at
her as though she were an attractive woman. Sometimes these days she didn’t think of herself as attractive, yet deep down she knew that she was. A lot of the time she felt herself to be more or less invisible where men were concerned. With her dark, glossy hair, that had hints of red in it, her pale, creamy skin and expressive hazel eyes she knew that she was not ordinary, yet most of the time now she could not feel otherwise. That was all part and parcel of low self-esteem, she knew, which had started from the time she had been laid off from the job that she had loved.

‘When I was in front of Stanton Memorial this afternoon,’ she heard herself saying, not having planned it, ‘I saw that some positions for nurses were advertised. Specifically, operating room nurses. Do you…would you… perhaps know anything about that?’

‘Well, I do know that the situation has changed in the time since you were laid off, mostly in the last six months. Most hospitals are looking for specialized nurses now. Many of the nurses who were laid off have gone to jobs in the United States, I suspect,’ he said.
‘They are just not there to be called back. Are you thinking of coming back?’

‘Well, I…would like to. I haven’t actually done anything about it,’ she said carefully, not wanting to alarm Fleur and Mungo. ‘I’m just thinking about how I could possibly do it.’

‘Yes,’ he said, understanding that she could not talk freely in front of the children. ‘I could find out for you, if you would like me to. I know there’s a shortage of nurses at Stanton. I operate there three days a week.’

‘Thank you, I’d appreciate that,’ she said. That would mean she would hear from him again, and even work with him if she got a job, if somehow she could combine being a mother to the children with a very demanding job in an operating suite. The idea of that lifted her spirits a few notches. It meant that she could go into the hospital and see a familiar face. Not that seeing him was the motivating factor—that would be an added bonus because he seemed like someone who would be good to work with. She had to get out from under.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, just as Fleur and Mungo had taken their attention from the
food they were eating and were looking at her and Shay with a quiet, speculative air. After being with them for two and a half years, Deirdre was attuned to the signals of their anxiety.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, smiling at them, ‘I’m not about to take off. Just thinking, perhaps, of getting a part-time job back in nursing, if there are any going.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Fleur said. ‘I think you should go for it, Dee. As long as you can still be with us.’

‘I won’t do anything without discussing it with you,’ she said.

‘Have you got kids?’ Mungo chipped in, directing his attention to the man who sat opposite him. For some reason, Deirdre felt herself holding her breath. Mungo had an uncanny habit of asking pertinent questions at opportune moments.

‘I have a fourteen-year-old son,’ Shay said quietly. ‘His name’s Mark.’ As he said that, there was a seriousness about him, Deirdre thought, a hesitancy. Quite suddenly there were vibes that she could not interpret. Perhaps he didn’t like talking about his private
life with strangers, even to the extent of telling them how many children he had—not like her, who had blurted out her problems. Well, he had invited her to do so, she defended herself. She was not secretive or stand-offish when it came to being honest about herself, although she was selective and careful about who heard her confidences.

So he was married. That was really a foregone conclusion, she thought. Such a pleasant, attractive man would be spoken for. He must be in his mid-thirties, she estimated, an established surgeon, it seemed.

For some reason she felt sad, a strange feeling like mourning, which she knew was part of her overall mental state of the moment. She felt herself slip back into that lonely world she had been in when she had sat on the bus and her body had refused to move.

‘I could show you around the hospital, if you would like me to, Deirdre,’ he said to her. ‘And I could get permission from the head nurse of the operating suite and show you around there, too. She’s a good person.’

‘That would be very nice,’ she managed to say. ‘Thank you.’

‘Give me your phone number before we leave here and I’ll call you within the next few days,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ she said again, knowing that he was feeling sorry for her. So often men said they would call, and never did. Her sadness did not lift. If only her parents were there. They would not be back from Australia for at least another three months. Abruptly, she longed to see them.

Meanwhile, the invitation of this man seemed like a lifeline that she could cling to temporarily.

‘W
HERE THE HELL
have you been?’

Jerry confronted them in the front hall of the house as they came in, having retrieved the four bags of groceries from the garage and then been dropped off at the front gate by Shay. They were in good spirits, having enjoyed the meal, until they saw Jerry, every inch the evil stepfather, Deirdre thought as she looked at him. Some of her sadness had gone, cheered by a single glass of house wine and the company of a good man. Now, looking at Jerry’s red, thunderous face, some of it came back.