Читать книгу Doctor On Her Doorstep - Annie Claydon, Annie Claydon - Страница 7

JENNA had been longing for this moment. She slid her car into the parking space outside the rambling Victorian house that had once been her family home and killed the ignition. A shower and a pizza were waiting for her inside and nothing now stood between her and the solitary, relaxing evening she had promised herself.

There was something, though. Someone to be more precise, and he was sitting on the steps, in the shade of the wide arch of the porch, his elbows propped on his knees, legs stretched out in front of him. His demeanour said he was waiting for someone, and since that someone was unlikely to be her, he must be another of Janice’s endless stream of boyfriends.

It was a shame, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Janice had moved out of the ground-floor flat three weeks ago, and if she hadn’t seen fit to share her forwarding address with him, then Jenna certainly wouldn’t. The best she could do for him was to take a contact number and promise to pass it on.

Okay. This won’t take long. Pity really. She didn’t like giving people the brush-off and there was something about his relaxed pose that said he was someone you’d like to spend time with. Jenna hauled the two heavy shopping bags out of the boot of her car and manoeuvred her way through the front gate, kicking it closed behind her, rather harder than she had meant to. The low sun dazzled her, and she was halfway down the front path before she could get a proper look at the stranger.

He looked like a rock star. Distressed leather jacket, jeans and boots. Light brown hair streaked with gold, which was just long enough to slick behind his ears, and the kind of tan you didn’t get from a two-week Easter break. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses but the tilt of his head indicated that he was watching Jenna as she walked towards him and dumped her shopping bags at his feet.

‘Hello. Can I help you?’

‘I’m looking for Dr Weston.’

‘Oh! That’s me.’ Something crawled up Jenna’s spine, and she wondered whether a bug had got into her shirt. A bug that was somehow making her fingertips tingle as well.

‘I’m Adam Sinclair. Dr Greene told me he’d mentioned my name to you.’ His accent was English, but he’d obviously been in America for a while. Mid-Atlantic. Rolling between the familiar, cut-glass consonants of home and a heart-stopping drawl.

‘He said …’ Jenna gulped back the words. It wasn’t tactful to repeat what Rob Greene had said in his email. ‘I thought you weren’t going to arrive until next weekend.’ Jenna’s reflection stared back at her from the dark lenses of his glasses.

He seemed to realise that the sunglasses were unnerving her and he pulled them off, hooking them into the open neck of his shirt. ‘I flew in from America this morning, and I’m driving down to Exeter tonight for the week. I thought I’d swing by and try to see you on the way.’

His tawny gaze looked as if it had been kissed by the same sun as his hair and was a hundred times more unsettling. Jenna fixed her eyes on a point somewhere between the bridge of his nose and his hairline and issued a mental instruction to pull herself together. ‘That’s something of a detour. North London’s not exactly on the way from Heathrow to the M3.’

‘Well, I did say swing. Implies an arc.’ He shrugged off the twenty miles of crowded roads as if they were a minor obstacle. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No.’ Jenna didn’t move. It wasn’t really a problem. He just wasn’t quite what she’d been expecting. To be absolutely honest, she wouldn’t have known how to expect someone like this, appearing out of nowhere, on her doorstep.

‘I should show you some ID.’ He’d mistaken her bewilderment for mistrust, and pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket he opened it and handed it to her. Credit cards. A Florida driving licence. A photograph of a woman. Jenna closed the wallet and handed it back.

‘Thanks.’ She reached for her bags of shopping, but he got there first, picking them up as he got to his feet. ‘You’d better come inside.’

Adam followed her up the stairs to her flat in silence, keeping his distance as she opened her front door and waiting for her to motion him in. He followed her through to the kitchen and put her bags onto the counter.

‘I’ll just put my shopping away, and then show you the flat.’ Jenna threw her keys down on the countertop and slipped out of her jacket, rolling up the cuffs of the plain white shirt she wore underneath. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Tea would be nice, thanks.’ He had retreated back to stand in the doorway, obviously intent on not crowding her. ‘I’m getting the feeling that I’m not quite what you expected.’

He could say that again. ‘Well, actually, I somehow got the idea that you were a woman from Rob’s email. But it makes no difference.’

There was a whole world of difference in the wry grin that melted his chiselled good looks. No medical doctor had any business even being in possession of a smile like that, let alone using it.

‘Ah. Sorry about that. If you’d prefer not …’

‘It’s not a problem. Rob does tend to write as if he’s being charged by the word.’ Rob’s characteristically staccato email had, as usual, provided more questions than answers. Travelling alone, concerns about hotel. Security and quiet needed. Speak on return from hols. Rob wasn’t back for another week and in the meantime Jenna had jumped to the conclusion that Dr Sinclair was a woman.

‘Yeah. When Ellie was born he emailed me a photo of her and Cassie, and wrote “7 lbs. Beautiful” underneath. I sent him a text demanding details and he replied “Girl”.’

Jenna snorted with laughter. ‘He sent you a photo? You were honoured, most of us just got “Born” with a couple of exclamation marks. You’ve known Rob a while, then, as Ellie’s nearly five.’

‘Ever since med school. Ellie was born just after I went abroad.’ He gave her a confiding grin and Jenna hung on to the countertop for support. ‘If it wasn’t for Cassie I’d never know what he was up to, though. She sends photos, letters. Even had a copy made of that drawing they have in their sitting room of Ellie and Daisy.’

He was clearly aware that she was alone in the house, and was trying to drop as many reassuring details into the conversation as he could. By chance, the reference turned out to be particularly appropriate. ‘That sketch is one of mine. Cassie asked me to do a second copy for a friend who was overseas.’ Someone who was going through a tough time, Cassie had said.

Laughter escaped his studied reserve. ‘Really? That drawing is remarkable, I have it hung in my study at home. It always makes me smile.’

It was only a pencil sketch. Jenna had been pleased with how it had turned out, but it was nothing all that special. He seemed to want to say more, but she cut him short before he got the chance. ‘I hear Florida’s a beautiful part of the world. What do you do there?’ Jenna opened the refrigerator and started to stack her shopping away.

‘I’m a plastic surgeon.’

So this was the image that sold nose jobs and liposuction to the rich, was it? Adam probably did pretty well out of it. Jenna reckoned that a good percentage of the female population would go through hell, high water and even general anaesthesia to see approval in Adam Sinclair’s face.

Taking advantage of the fact that the open fridge door hid her from him, Jenna rolled her eyes. ‘And that’s what you’re going to be lecturing on?’

‘Yes. I was looking to spend some time back in the UK and when I got the offer of a month here as a visiting lecturer, I jumped at it. I’m spending a week visiting family, and I’ll be back here on Sunday week for my first lecture.’

‘On a Sunday? It’s a public lecture, then.’ Not that she was even vaguely interested.

‘Yeah. Three o’clock in the Fleming Lecture Theatre.’

He didn’t invite her to come, and Jenna didn’t express any interest in doing so. Instead, she straightened up, flashing him a brisk smile. ‘I’ll make the tea and take you downstairs to see the flat.’ Perhaps she’d been too harsh in judging him. Okay, so Adam wasn’t a woman. That was hardly his fault, neither was it a crime, although that smile of his ought to be kept under house arrest. If he chose to use his talents and an expensive education to carry out largely unnecessary surgery, that was a matter for his own conscience. He was what he was.

As a sign of penitence she picked up a packet of chocolate biscuits, along with her mug and the keys to the ground-floor flat, before leading him down the stairs. ‘I’ve just had the walls done, and it stinks of paint at the moment, but it’ll air out by next week.’

‘That’s fine. I just want somewhere to stay. Rob offered to put me up, but with two children and another one on the way he doesn’t have the room. And I don’t like hotels much.’

‘No. Rob mentioned that.’ Jenna led the way into the lounge and plumped herself down on the dust sheet that covered the sofa.

‘He did?’ The look he shot her was half-wary. Three-quarters guilty.

‘In passing. I don’t much like hotels either.’ It wasn’t her business. Jenna reached for the biscuits as a change of subject, opening the packet and offering him one. ‘Why don’t you take a look around? There isn’t much furniture, I’m afraid, just the basics.’

‘That’s what I like about it.’ He ignored the biscuits and walked over to the window, drawing the shutters back to let the evening sun spill into the room, slanting across the walls and floor. ‘And there’s plenty of light.’ He turned to Jenna. ‘This will be fine, if that’s okay with you.’

‘Don’t you want to look at the rest?’

‘Should I?’ He gave her a quizzical look, and Jenna felt the back of her neck begin to burn.

‘It’s the usual practice. I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.’ She felt awkward under his gaze, the way the corners of his mouth twitched slightly when he looked at her spare frame and her dark red hair, scraped back off her face and secured tightly at the back of her head. His profession, and those smouldering tawny eyes, seemed to make a constant, unspoken judgement of her.

‘So you’re not going to come with me and point out the finer features of the property?’

‘No, I take a relaxed approach. Drink tea and let you show yourself around.’

He chuckled. ‘Fine. I can take a hint.’ He disappeared out into the hallway, the sound of his footsteps indicating his progress around the flat. He was back again almost before she could extract a second biscuit from the packet. ‘One of the doors is locked.’

‘Ah, yes. That’s the second bedroom. My last tenant went to Spain to work and she’s left some of her stuff here for me to send on when she gets settled. I can clear the boxes out if you want that room, but the main bedroom’s through here.’ Jenna led him the full length of the hallway and opened the door.

He strode inside and looked around. ‘Big room.’ He sat down on the bed. ‘Decent mattress. That’s a real bonus.’

‘I think you’ll find that’s my line. As I’m here, I’ll also point out that there’s plenty of cupboard space.’

‘Which would be my cue to look inside.’

‘Absolutely. Let me know if you find any skeletons. I don’t think Janice left any behind, but you never can be sure.’

Adam opened the doors wide, inspecting the interior of the wardrobe. The smile that was playing around his lips broadened when Jenna jumped as he flinched back suddenly. ‘Nope. She must have taken them all with her.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Jenna brushed a few crumbs from the front of her shirt. ‘What do you think, then?’

His eyes travelled around the bedroom. ‘May I see the other room, please? The one that’s locked.’

‘Of course.’ Jenna led the way down the hallway. ‘This room’s a little smaller and there isn’t so much cupboard space. I like it better, though, there are doors out on to the patio and you get the early morning sun.’ Most tenants preferred the extra cupboard space.

The soft leather of his jacket brushed against her arm as he walked past her into the room. ‘I like it too. Would it be okay if I swapped the boxes over to the main bedroom and brought the bed through here?’

Jenna shrugged. ‘I’ll do that some time next week for you.’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ll do it.’ He didn’t wait for her answer and turned to walk over to the French doors, staring out into the garden. ‘Big garden. What’s the area at the end there that’s attracting the butterflies?’

Her beloved butterfly garden. Jenna was both pleased and slightly embarrassed that he’d noticed it. ‘That’s part of the garden too. My grandfather and I planted it when I was little. There are herbs and shrubs to attract the butterflies, but it’s getting a bit out of control now.’

‘So this was your family home?’

‘Yes. It was my grandparents’ house. I split it into two flats after they died. I was a student then and the income came in handy.’ He nodded as if he understood, but there was no way that he could have done. Jenna herself didn’t fully understand what had happened with her parents.

‘You lived with your grandparents?’

‘Yes, I’ve lived here since I was ten.’

He said nothing. Jenna began to wish that either she’d not said so much or that he would question her more. Anything but this half-story, which he seemed to accept so unquestioningly. Or maybe it wasn’t acceptance. Maybe he simply didn’t care.

Adam turned away from the window and followed her through to the sitting room. ‘So, do we get to haggle over the rent now?’

She’d rather he didn’t. That way he had of quirking his eyebrow gave him an unfair advantage. ‘It’s seven hundred for the month. I’ll stock the fridge up for you.’

‘You will not. Seven hundred pounds is daylight robbery, this place is worth twice that. I may have been away for a while, but I haven’t lost touch with London property prices.’

‘I keep the rent low so I can pick and choose who I have here. Anyway, you can’t haggle upwards.’

‘Why not?’ He lifted one eyebrow.

‘You just can’t. I won’t have it.’

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Okay. Done.’ Adam reached into his jacket and brought out his wallet. ‘Would you like a deposit?’

‘Not particularly. The place is empty anyway.’

‘Fair enough.’ He picked his mug of tea up from the coffee table and took a final swig. ‘I’d better get back on the road, then, and leave you to get on with your supper.’

Jenna flushed. He’d noticed that she was already on her third chocolate biscuit and was regarding the packet pointedly. So what? She was on her feet all day in a busy A and E department, not sitting in a leather chair behind a swanky desk, and she worked up an appetite. And she might not have curves, but at least her figure owed nothing to silicone. ‘Thanks. I’ll see you in a week’s time, then.’