Caroline Anderson

A Gentle Giant


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or collected by their parents, it was ten o’clock and Rob was showing the effects of the night on call.

      They drove back in silence, both preoccupied with their thoughts, and when they arrived at the house Rob led her round to the back door and up the back stairs to the landing.

      The hall will be full of patients, and neither of us is exactly inspiring to look at,’ he said ruefully.

      Jamie had to agree. If she looked half as bad as him …!

      ‘Rob, let me help you with your surgery,’ she said urgently. Those people have had a long wait already and they have work to get on with.’

      He studied her in silence for a time, and then gave a weary nod. Thank you. I’ll accept—for them. See you downstairs in five minutes.’

      Well, she thought, progress!

      She showered rapidly, washing her hair and tying it back to dry while she tugged on a skirt and jumper and slid her feet into sandals. She went down the back way and met Mrs H in the kitchen.

      ‘Congratulations!’ the housekeeper whispered. ‘I knew you’d be good for him. He says you’re to use the little surgery next to the office. The notes are on the desk. Away and get started, and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee in a minute.’

      Jamie crossed the hall, smiling at the assembled patients who looked back curiously.

      ‘Good morning!’ she said brightly, and they mumbled a ragged response. She smiled grimly to herself. They weren’t giving anything away to a stranger! The surgery was small but clean and neat—lacking Rob’s chaotic influence, she thought, and also his warmth. She would have to get some posters up to brighten it.

      She picked up the first set of notes, walked to the door and stuck her head round. ‘Mrs Ferguson? Could you come in, please?’

      Mrs H brought her a cup of coffee between her third and fourth patients, and she gulped it down gratefully before carrying on. After about an hour, she found that the pile of notes had moved from one side of her desk to another, and with a sigh and a stretch she walked to the door and looked out into the empty hall. Rob’s door was open, and she could hear him on the phone.

      It went down with a crash, and he swore softly. She tapped on the door.

      ‘Come in!’ he barked.

      She did, quirking an eyebrow at him, and he sighed and grinned ruefully.

      ‘What do you want first—the good news or the bad news?’

      She answered his smile.

      ‘Good, of course.’

      ‘Trudy’s going to be fine. The blood was from her exit site, which must have got torn when the seat trapped her. She’s a bit sore, but nothing drastic. She is, of course, back on haemodialysis until the site settles down,’ he added heavily.

      ‘And the bad?’

      ‘Can’t get a locum for at least a fortnight.’

      She tried to stifle the smile, but failed. ‘Why is that such bad news? You’ve got me.’

      ‘Huh!’ he snorted. ‘Now I have, but for how long? I have to get someone permanent and reliable before the winter sets in,’ he explained patiently, as if she were an idiot.

      She leant over the desk and stabbed her finger into his rock-hard chest. ‘I am here, and I am permanent, and I am reliable.’

      He took her hand in his, and the warmth shot up her arm, stunning her.

      ‘Jamie, be reasonable,’ he pleaded.

      She snatched her hand away, partly because he was irritating her, and partly because she couldn’t concentrate for wondering when her arm was going to catch fire.

      ‘I’m being perfectly reasonable,’ she argued, spinning away from the desk and moving to the window. Chloe was outside, playing in the sandpit in a pair of bright pink dungarees and a clashing yellow T-shirt. She watched as the child made a sandcastle and then smashed it down with a delicious chuckle.

      She was aware of Rob standing beside her, his face hard as he stared past her at his beloved daughter. She laid a hand on his arm, and felt again the warmth coursing through her veins.

      ‘Rob, not everyone is like your wife.’

      ‘Ex-wife,’ he corrected, and shifted his eyes to hers. ‘I’m sorry, Jamie, my mind’s made up. I have no choice but to accept your help for a while, but you may as well start looking for another job somewhere more suitable.’

      ‘Damn you, you insufferable, chauvinistic, pig-headed fool! I don’t want another job! I want this one, and I’m damn well going to have it!’

      She turned on her heel and cannoned into Mrs H, who was standing in the doorway with an approving smile on her face.

      With a muttered apology she squeezed past her and fled upstairs, slamming her bedroom door and counting to ten to try and get a handle on her rage.

      A few minutes later there came a tap at the door.

      ‘Who is it?’

      ‘An insufferable, chauvinistic, pig-headed fool. May I come in?’

      Lord, she thought, did I really call him all that?

      ‘Yes, come in.’ She got off the bed and turned to face him. ‘I’m sorry about the adjectives——’

      ‘Don’t be.’ He gave her a lop-sided grin. ‘I expect I deserve them all, and more besides. I have a proposition for you. Suppose you stay for the full two months of the trial period?’

      ‘And will you give me a fair run? Put your preconceived notions on hold and give me a chance to prove myself?’

      He grinned. ‘Yes—as if you’d give me a choice!’

      She sat down on the bed with a plonk, her mind whirling. Two months took them up to the end of October. The weather was starting to break up then, and hopefully he wouldn’t be able to do anything about another partner until the spring—by which time …

      I accept,’ she said quickly.

      He gave her a wry grin. ‘I rather thought you might. It only took Jennifer half that time to find out she hated it. It should be long enough to convince you.’

      ‘Or you,’ she said challengingly.

      ‘Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?’

      She grinned. ‘Oh, yes—every bit as stubborn as you, and then some, probably.’

      ‘I doubt it,’ he said with a laugh.

      She raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t be too sure.’

      The challenge hung in the air between them.

       CHAPTER THREE

      JAMIE’S first and most pressing concern was accommodation. She tackled Rob about it after they had finished the evening surgery and were sitting down in the cosy little room at the end of the hall. Chloe had thrown all her toys out on to the floor and was playing happily in the toybox, the television was on quietly and Rob was motionless for the first time in twenty-four hours.

      She came straight to the point and asked him outright where he suggested she should live during her ‘trial’ period. She found herself thinking of it in inverted commas, because she had decided she was staying. The term ‘trial’ was Rob’s and his alone.

      ‘I think you’d be best off here, if you’re really serious about doing this properly,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘How else will we manage when you’re on call at night—or weren’t you thinking of doing nights?’ He asked the question quietly and seriously, and Jamie was almost fooled. Then she caught