Читать книгу Second Chance With Lord Branscombe - Joanna Neil, Joanna Neil - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

‘COME ON IN, then, Charlie.’ Sophie let herself into her father’s kitchen and then stood to one side to let the excited yellow Labrador follow her. He was carrying his lead in his mouth as usual—she always let him walk home the last few yards untethered. She went over to the sink and filled the dog bowl with fresh cold water. ‘Okay, I’ll swap you—you give me the lead and I’ll let you have the water.’ It was a ritual they followed every time they went out.

Charlie obligingly dropped the loop handle and she unclipped the lead from his collar and put it away. He drank thirstily and then dropped to the floor, panting heavily and watching her as she washed her hands and then filled the kettle and switched it on.

She gazed out of the window at the neat lawn and the garden with its bright flower borders. There were scarlet surfinias in tubs that reminded her of that day at the restaurant when she’d met up with Nate. It had been almost two weeks ago and she hadn’t seen anything more of him since then but she guessed he was probably spending a lot of his time visiting his father in the Coronary Care Unit.

‘He looks suitably worn out.’ Her father wheeled himself into the kitchen, breaking into her thoughts and smiling as he looked over at the dog. ‘Just as well, if the physio’s coming here later on. Charlie can be a bit too exuberant at times.’

Sophie smiled with him and pushed a cup of tea across the table towards him. ‘He’s not slowing down at all, is he? You’d have thought at eight years old there would have been a few signs of maturity by now, wouldn’t you?’

‘You would.’

Her father had bought Charlie as a pup, a couple of years after his marriage to her mother had broken down. He’d taken him with him everywhere, even to his work on the estate, and they’d roamed the woods and fields together, man and dog.

‘How’s the work going with the physio?’ she asked now, as she slid bread into the toaster. Every morning before work, she came over to the house to have breakfast with her father.

‘We’re getting there, I reckon.’ He paused, thinking about it. ‘When she came yesterday I stood for a while with the frame, and I even managed to take a couple of steps.’

‘You did?’ He looked deservedly pleased with himself and Sophie stopped what she was doing and rushed over to him. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ She hugged him fiercely. ‘I’m thrilled to bits for you. That’s amazing.’

‘Yes, it’s definitely a step forward...’ He chuckled at his own joke and she laughed with him. ‘Seriously, with all the treatment I’ve been having at the hospital, and now these sessions at home with the physio, I feel as though I’m making progress. It’s been a long job, but I’m getting there at last.’

They ate cereals and toast and chatted for a while, but Sophie soon realised her father had something else on his mind. ‘I’ve been hearing rumours,’ he said, ‘about Branscombe losing all his money and the estate houses being put on the market. Do you know anything about that?’

‘Not really.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll know anything more until Lord Branscombe is out of hospital. Nate’s looking after things in the meantime, but—’

‘You’ve seen him again?’ Martin Trent’s voice was sharp, his whole manner on the alert all at once.

‘No...no, not since I saw him that day at the Seafarer when his father was taken ill.’ Sophie hastily tried to calm him. It was true. She hadn’t seen him. She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d phoned the Manor House the next day to find out how Lord Branscombe was faring. After all, it had been an innocent enquiry—she’d expected to talk to Charlotte, and it had been a shock to have Nate answer the phone.

‘I haven’t seen him,’ she said again, calmly, concerned that her father was still looking tense, his fingers gripping tightly on the arms of his wheelchair, ‘so I assume he’s busy visiting his father and talking to the Estate Manager to see how they can keep things jogging along.’

‘Hmmph.’ He slumped back in his seat. ‘I don’t want either of us to have anything more to do with that family. James is an arrogant, self-centred womaniser and his son is likely no better.’

‘We don’t know that Nate is like that,’ she said in a reasonable tone. ‘He hasn’t been around here for any length of time these past few years, has he, so how can we judge him?’

‘He can’t escape heredity,’ her father said flatly. ‘It’ll be in the genes. That’s all you need to know. Besides, he upset you... I know you and he argued but you were broken-hearted when he went away.’

‘It was a bad time. You were injured and struggling to come to terms with being disabled and I was confused and lashed out.’ Sophie sighed inwardly. She understood her father’s dislike of the Branscombes and his hostility towards them. After all, he’d worked for Lord Branscombe for years and had suffered in the end because of it, but it was hard for her to share his animosity towards the son. Her mind drifted back to that last conversation she’d had with Nate.

He’d been more than pleased to talk to her that day when she’d telephoned the Manor House. Despite his troubles, his voice was warm and welcoming, sending little thrills to run along her spine. Just hearing him had made her feel that he was close by, almost as though he was in the room with her. She’d been concerned for him, though, wondering how he was bearing up, and tried to keep her mind on the business in hand.

‘They’re assessing my father in the Coronary Care Unit,’ he’d said when she asked about Lord Branscombe. ‘I think they’re planning on removing the blood clot and putting a stent in one of his arteries. It’s looking as though he’ll be in hospital for some time.’

They’d talked for a while and he said, ‘I’m sorry things turned out the way they did—both for my father and for selfish reasons... It was good seeing you again, Sophie. I’m sorry our get-together came to such an abrupt end.’

‘Yes...though I wasn’t expecting you to turn up that day or I—’ She broke off.

‘Or you’d have gone out of your way to avoid me.’ She could hear the wry inflection in his voice and she flinched, knowing what he said was the truth.

Seeing him again had stirred up all sorts of feelings inside her that she’d thought were long since forgotten...or at least pushed to one side. But she didn’t want to go there again—to start up something that would only end in distress.

Suddenly uncomfortable, she sought for a way to bring the conversation to an end. ‘I’m sure your father’s in good hands, Nate. He’ll be glad to have you by his side as he recovers.’

‘Yes, he seems calmer, knowing I’m here for him.’

‘That’s good.’ She hesitated, cautious about getting more deeply involved with him, and then said, ‘I should go. Maybe I’ll see you around.’

‘Sophie, couldn’t we—?’ Nate started to speak but she quickly cut the call before she could change her mind.

‘Bye.’ She had no idea what he must have made of her rush to get away, but he already knew she was trying to keep her distance from him.

‘Anyway,’ her father was saying, ‘it looks as though the tenancies could be at risk if what the papers say is true.’ His brow was furrowed with anxiety. ‘I’ve grown used to living here since the crash—I have wheelchair access, handrails... I don’t want to have to move...to have to go through the upheaval all over again...’

‘It probably won’t come to that,’ she said, trying to soothe him. ‘I suppose we’re all in much the same boat—my place is rented too. But, as far as I know, the press stories are just speculation. It’s too soon yet for anything to have been decided.’

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’ He glanced at Charlie, snoozing in the corner of the kitchen. ‘Thanks for taking him out for me every day. It’s good of you and I do appreciate what you do for me—I know how hard you work.’

She smiled at him and stood up to clear away the breakfast dishes. ‘I like to keep an eye on you. I was worried when you had that chest infection, but you look so much better now.’ She finished tidying up and then glanced at her watch. ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘I have a date first thing with those gorgeous little babies in the Neonatal Unit.’

‘Ah...that’s the bit you like best of all about your job, isn’t it? Looking after the tiny infants.’

‘It is.’ She gave him a quick kiss and a hug, patted a sleepy Charlie on the head and headed out of the door.

She drove to work, following the coast road for a while, uplifted as always by the sight of the wide, sweeping bay and the rugged landscape of cliffs and inlets. After a mile or two she turned inland, driving along a country road until gradually it gave way to suburbia and eventually the local town came into view. She parked the car at the hospital and made her way inside the building.

There was one baby in particular she was eager to see this morning. Alfie had been born prematurely at twenty-seven weeks and had been looked after in Intensive Care for the last couple of months. She’d followed his progress day by day. Now that he was a little stronger and in a better stage of development, Sophie had been able to withdraw his nasogastric feeding tube and she was keen to see how he and his mum were coping with him taking milk from a bottle. They’d had a few attempts at feeding him over the last couple of days, but so far it hadn’t been going too well.

‘Hi there, Mandy,’ Sophie greeted the young woman who was sitting by the baby’s cot, holding the infant in her arms. She looked down at the tiny baby, his little fingers clenched, his pink mouth pouting, seeking nourishment. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’

Mandy smiled agreement, though at the moment the baby was squirming, crying intermittently and obviously hungry. The nurse on duty brought a bottle of milk and handed it to Mandy, who gently placed the teat in her baby’s mouth.

Alfie sucked greedily, gulped, swallowed and forgot to breathe, causing him to choke on the milk, and Mandy looked anxious. ‘He keeps doing that,’ she said worriedly.

‘It’s all right, Mandy,’ Sophie said softly. ‘It’s something they have to learn, to remember to breathe while they’re feeding. Sometimes they stop breathing for a few seconds because the heart rate is a little slow—as in Alfie’s case—but we’ve added a shot of caffeine to his milk to give him a little boost. There’s supplemental iron in there too, because being born prematurely means his iron stores are a bit low.’

‘Will he always have this low heart rate?’ The young mother was full of concern for her baby.

‘No, no. Things will get better as he matures. In the meantime, the caffeine will help. You can relax. He’s doing really well.’ Sophie lightly stroked the baby’s hand. ‘Look, he’s sucking better already.’

She left the unit a few minutes later, after checking up on a couple of other babies, and then went along to the Children’s Unit. An eleven-year-old girl had been admitted a couple of days ago, suffering from septicaemia, and she wanted to see how she was doing.

‘Sophie—I was hoping I might catch up with you at some point today.’ A familiar deep male voice greeted her and stopped her in her tracks. An odd tingling sensation ran through her.

She’d been lost in thought, but now she looked up to see Nate standing by the nurses’ station, tall and incredibly good-looking, dressed in dark trousers that moulded his long legs and a pristine shirt with the sleeves folded back to the elbows.

She stared at him, her blue eyes wide with shock, her heart beginning to thump heavily. ‘Nate—what are you doing here?’ She was startled to see him standing there, and more than a little alarmed to have her sanctuary invaded. This was one place where she’d always thought she was safe.

‘I’ve started a new job here as a locum consultant,’ he explained. ‘It’s a temporary post for the next few months until they appoint a new person for the job. They tell me I’ll be in the running for that too.’

She pulled in a steadying breath. ‘I’d no idea you were looking for work over here. I suppose you must be pleased that you found something so soon...and so close to home.’ Why did it have to be here, in her department? How on earth was she going to cope, having him around?

‘I am; I’m very pleased. The opportunity came up and I decided to go for it. This will give me time to decide what I want to do—and of course it means I’ll be on hand to visit my father in the Coronary Care Unit here, which is an advantage.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She looked at him in concern. ‘I hope he’s doing all right.’

He nodded. ‘They went ahead and put a stent in the artery to prevent another blockage there. He’s a lot better than he was.’

‘That’s good.’ Her mind was reeling. It was difficult enough, knowing that Nate was back in the village...but to have him here, working alongside her...that was something she’d not contemplated. How was her father going to react to that news? But she didn’t confide any of that to Nate. Instead she did her best to keep things on an even keel. ‘I hope you enjoy your time here—I think you’ll find it’s a very friendly, supportive place to work.’

‘I’m sure I will.’ His green eyes glinted as he looked at her. ‘Knowing that you’re here too makes it even better.’ His glance moved over her, flicking appreciatively over her curves, outlined by the close-fitting lavender-coloured top and dove-grey pencil-line skirt she was wearing. ‘I’m more than glad to know that I’ll be working alongside you.’

‘I—uh...’ She cleared her throat. ‘Yes...well... I think I should make a start on seeing my patients. I was just about to do a ward round.’

He inclined his head briefly. ‘I’ll come with you and try to get acquainted with everyone. I’ve already met some of the doctors and the nursing staff...like Tracey and Hannah over there...’ His mouth made a crooked shape and he gestured towards a couple of the nurses who had been watching him from a distance but who now felt dismayed at being discovered and quickly seemed to find a reason to be going about their work.

She acknowledged their reaction with a faint grimace. Nothing had changed, had it? No doubt the nurses and female doctors had been falling over themselves to get to know him. He seemed to have that effect on women. They simply couldn’t get enough of him. And he probably liked things that way.

‘Okay. I thought I’d start by looking in on Emma.’ She began to walk towards one of the wards, a four-bed bay close to the nursing station.

He seemed to be searching his memory. ‘That would be the child with sepsis?’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You’ve looked through the notes already?’

He nodded. ‘I like to know who and what I’m going to be dealing with, if at all possible. There isn’t always time but I was in early today, so I was able to take a quick glance at the notes on computer. They only give the bare essentials, of course.’

She had to admire his thoroughness. ‘Well, she and her friend apparently gave each other body piercings—they wanted to wear belly bars but Emma’s mother wouldn’t allow it, so they did it in secret. Emma’s wound became infected and the little girl was too worried about what her parents would say to tell them what was happening. It was only when she started to feel ill that she finally admitted what she’d done. Her parents brought her to A&E but by then the infection was in her bloodstream.’

He winced. ‘You have her on strong antibiotics?’

‘We do. We had the results of tests back from the lab—it’s an aggressive infection, so we’ve put her on a specific treatment now. Of course she needs support to compensate for failing internal organs while her body’s under attack.’

That was the reason the little girl was on a ventilator to help with her breathing and was receiving vital fluids through an intravenous line. Her parents were sitting by her bedside, taking turns to hold her hand. They were pale and distraught, and Sophie did her best to reassure them.

‘Her temperature’s down,’ she said, glancing at the monitor, ‘and her blood oxygen levels are improving, so it looks as though the antibiotics are beginning to have an effect. It will take time, but there’s a definite improvement.’

‘Thank you.’ Emma’s mother was still sick with worry. ‘I just blame myself. I should have known.’

‘I doubt anyone would know if a child made up her mind to keep something to herself,’ Nate said, his voice sympathetic. ‘It’s all the rage to get these piercings, but I expect she’ll be wanting to give them a miss for the time being, at least.’ He smiled and the woman’s mouth curved a fraction.

‘Let’s hope you’re right about that.’

Sophie went on with the ward rounds, conscious all the time of Nate by her side. He talked to the young patients, getting a smile from those who were able and bringing comfort to those who needed it. He was a dream of a children’s doctor. It was a role that could have been made especially for him.

‘Shall we go and get some lunch in the hospital restaurant?’ he suggested a couple of hours later, when she had seen all her patients and finished writing up her notes.

‘Yes, I’d like that. I’m starving.’

He grinned. ‘I thought you might be. You always burned up energy like a racing engine. From what I’ve heard, the food’s pretty good here.’

‘It’s not bad at all,’ she agreed. ‘That’s mostly down to Jake’s intervention, I think. Soon after he was appointed as a manager, he brought in new caterers and the whole place was reorganised. It’s only been up and running for a few weeks. They do hot and cold food and there are sections where you can help yourself and get served quickly.’

He pushed open the door and slipped an arm around her waist as he guided her into the large open-plan area. She felt the warmth of his palm on the curve of her back through the thin material of her top and a sensation of heat spread out along her spine. Try as she might to ignore it, she couldn’t get away from the fact that she liked the feel of his hand on her body...so much so that she was almost disappointed when he let go of her and led the way to the service counters.

There were several of them, each offering a variety of food—salads, sandwiches, cold meats, and then there were the hot food counters, serving things like jacket potatoes, chilli con carne and tomato-and-basil quiche.

Nate studied the menu board. ‘Looks like today’s specials are lasagne or shepherd’s pie,’ he said.

She pulled herself together and tried to concentrate. ‘I think I’ll have the lasagne,’ she said, and added a rhubarb crumble to her tray. Nate opted for shepherd’s pie and runner beans but didn’t bother with a dessert. He added a pot of tea and two cups to his tray.

‘No pudding... Now I see how you keep that lean and hungry look,’ she commented.

‘Oh, I prefer savoury food above all else.’ His gaze travelled over her. ‘But the puddings don’t seem to have done you any harm at all. You’re as slim as ever—with curves in all the right places.’ He smiled as a swift tide of heat swept over her cheeks. ‘It must be all the exercise you get, working here and helping your father. Charlotte mentioned to me that you walk the dog and do your father’s grocery shopping and so on.’

‘I do what I can.’ They chose a table by the window and sat down to eat.

‘I imagine your father and Jake get on pretty well,’ Nate said after a while. ‘Jake’s easy to get along with, isn’t he?’

‘I guess so. I mean, he and I get on all right. We always have done.’ She frowned. They’d always been friends, a bit like a brother and sister, really. She looked at Nate. ‘Actually, he hasn’t had all that much to do with my father, up to now. They know one another, of course, from when we were younger, but I haven’t had occasion to take him home as yet.’

‘Hmm.’ His green gaze was thoughtful.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I expect Jake wants to move things on... He’ll want to be more than just friends.’ He studied her intently as though memorising every one of her features. ‘Any man would.’

She moistened her lower lip with her tongue. ‘I don’t know about that. I’ve been down that road before and I’ve discovered to my cost that things don’t always work out too well.’

He raised a brow. ‘Perhaps you’ve known the wrong people.’

‘Perhaps.’ The truth was, the only man she’d ever really wanted was Nate, but there had always been so many obstacles in their way that it just felt that maybe it was never meant to be. ‘You must know from your father’s experience that it isn’t easy to find the right partner in life,’ she said. ‘My own mother and father couldn’t make a go of it.’

‘I think the truth is my father never really got over losing my mother,’ he admitted. ‘He was something of a lost soul after that. But, as to your situation, it always struck me—as a child growing up—that your father did his best. He wanted the relationship to work.’

‘I’m sure he did.’ She pulled a face. ‘But, well, you know my mother... She could be...flaky, I suppose you’d call it. She was unreliable and her behaviour was odd sometimes. It made her difficult to live with, but of course we didn’t know then that she was suffering from bipolar disorder.’

He slid his fork into his shepherd’s pie. ‘It must have been difficult for you when the marriage broke up and she took you and your brother and sister away to live in Somerset.’

‘Yes, it was. It was hard leaving my father, and everything we’d ever known back here.’ She frowned, thinking about it. ‘Though it wasn’t so bad for me because I was getting ready to go to Medical School. I was more worried about leaving Rob and Jessica behind at that time. They were still very young—nine and eleven by the time Mum remarried. It broke my heart to leave them.’ Her mouth flattened. ‘I still worry about them after all this time—eight years later.’

‘But they come to stay with you quite often, don’t they? Charlotte told me a long while ago that they’re back here whenever they have the chance.’

‘That’s true. Jessica’s married now, though, so I don’t know if she’ll be over here quite as much.’

His eyes lit up with interest. ‘I heard about that—and that she’s pregnant. Is she okay? Is it all going well?’

She paused for a moment to savour her lasagne. ‘Yes, she’s fine. Money’s a bit tight—but she and Ryan managed to buy a small terraced house in an old part of town. They’re young and they were impulsive, I suppose, in a hurry to be together. Only now Ryan’s taken a job which means he has to work away for several days at a time. I’m just hoping they won’t have too much of a struggle financially, with a baby on the way.’

He shrugged lightly. ‘Young people are resilient. If the love’s there I’m sure nothing much else matters.’

She smiled. ‘I think that’s what I’ve always liked about you—your optimism. Yes, I’m sure things will turn out fine, eventually.’

He poured tea for both of them. ‘And Rob—how’s he getting along? He must be sixteen or seventeen by now...’

‘He’s just turned seventeen. Rob’s a typical teenager—full to bursting with teenage hormones right now.’ She made a start on her dessert, enjoying the brief moment of sweetness as she tasted the creamy custard on her tongue. ‘I think he worries about Dad.’

‘I’m sure he does. The relationship between a father and his son is an important one.’ He studied her closely. ‘It applies to fathers and daughters too. Your father always looked out for you, didn’t he? I had the feeling he didn’t want you getting too close to me.’

‘He was just trying to protect me. I guess he knew you weren’t one to settle. And your family heritage is something you can’t get away from—you lead a vastly different life to most ordinary people and I suppose he felt in your eyes and your father’s eyes I would always be the Estate Manager’s daughter.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s not true. I always thought you were special. I was miserable when you left to go to Medical School—I was glad for you that you were doing something you’d always wanted to do, but sad for myself. We were bound to be separated for a great amount of time, studying in different parts of the country.’

She smiled, unconvinced. As a teenager she’d longed for Nate to look at her the way he’d looked at other women, but it was only when her family was uprooted and she was desperately vulnerable that things had changed between the two of them. He’d reached out to her and offered her comfort, a shoulder to cry on.

But it had been too late. She’d made the decision to leave home to go and study medicine. Those last few times they had been together, he had held her in his arms and there had been the occasional stolen kiss, enough to make her long for more. How could she have allowed herself to get more deeply involved with him back then? He was often away, studying to be a doctor, and when he was home she was too conscious of the great divide between them to let it happen.

Perhaps it was true he had missed her for a while. But he must have known that they were miles apart in other ways. Nate’s family, unlike hers, was completely orderly, old school, following age-old traditions, their ways of going on passed down from generation to generation. She sighed inwardly. She would never fit in.

Now, he reached for the milk jug and frowned as he caught sight of a newspaper lying abandoned and open on a nearby table. Sophie followed his gaze and scanned the headlines. There was a picture of Branscombe Manor with a larger image of Lord Branscombe in the foreground.