Читать книгу The Baby That Changed Everything - Kate Hardy - Страница 13

THERE WAS NEVER going to be a perfect time to ask Jared, Bailey knew, and she certainly wasn’t going to ring him outside office hours to talk it through with him. But once the next training session with the team was under way and she was seated on the bench next to him, she turned to him.

‘Can I ask you for some professional advice—something that’s a bit personal?’

He looked completely taken aback. ‘Why?’

She’d known before she asked that this was going to be difficult; Jared had never talked to her about his injury. But he was the only one who might be able to help. ‘I have a patient, a teenage female tennis player. She landed awkwardly from hitting a ball.’

‘And?’

‘She, um, has a complete tear to her ACL.’

He went very, very still and guilt flooded through her.

‘I know I’m being intrusive,’ she said, ‘and I apologise for that. I really don’t mean to dredge up bad memories for you about your own injury. And, yes, I did look you up, so I know what happened. I could hardly ask you, could I?’

‘I guess not.’

Talk about inscrutable. Jared’s voice and his face were completely expressionless, so she had absolutely no idea how he was feeling right now. Worrying that she was risking their newfound truce, but wanting to get some real help for her patient, she said, ‘The reason I’m asking you is because when it happened you were about the same age as she is now, so you know how it feels. Her dad’s really supportive and he’s trying to get her to rest her knee sensibly so she’ll recover well from the operation, but she’s distraught at the idea that she’s going to lose a lot of ground over the next year. So I guess what I’m asking you is if there’s anything I can tell her to help her deal with it a bit better.’

For a moment she thought Jared was going to blank her, but then he blew out a breath. ‘That really depends on whether she’s going to recover fully or not.’

Clearly he hadn’t recovered fully enough to be able to resume his sports career. But she knew that if she tried to give him a hug—out of empathy rather than pity—he’d push her away, both literally and figuratively. So she kept the topic to a discussion about her patient. ‘I think there’s a very good chance she’ll recover fully. The surgeon’s brilliant,’ Bailey said.

‘Good.’

A complete tear to the anterior cruciate ligament. Jared knew exactly how that felt. Like the end of the world. When all your dreams had suddenly exploded and there wasn’t any meaning in your life any more. You couldn’t do the one thing you knew you were really good at—the thing you were born to do. In a few moments it was all gone.

At seventeen, it had destroyed him. Knowing that his knee wouldn’t hold up in the future—that if he played again he was likely to do more damage to his knee and eventually he’d be left with a permanent limp. Knowing that he’d never play for his country again. He’d been so sure that nothing would ever be that good for the rest of his life.

Although it hadn’t actually turned out that way. He enjoyed his job, and he was still involved with the game he loved.

He blew out a breath. ‘It’s a lot to deal with. Especially at that age. Tell her to take it one day at a time, and to find someone she can talk to. Someone who won’t let her wallow in self-pity and will talk her into being sensible.’ He’d been so, so lucky that the team’s deputy coach had been brilliant with him. He’d let Jared rant and rave, and then told him to look at his options, because there most definitely would be something he could do.

What goes around comes around. It was time to pass on that same advice now. ‘Tell her there will be something else. At first it’ll feel like second best, but she’ll find something else she loves as much. Even if it doesn’t look like it right now.’

‘Thank you,’ Bailey said quietly. ‘I appreciate it—and I’m sorry I brought back bad memories. That really wasn’t my intention.’

He shrugged again. ‘It was a long time ago.’

She said nothing, simply waited, and he was surprised to find himself filling in the gap. ‘At the time, it was bad,’ he admitted. ‘I wanted someone to blame for the end of my dreams—but I always knew that the tackle wasn’t deliberate. It was just something that went wrong and it could’ve happened to anyone. The guy who tackled me felt as guilty as hell about it, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just an accident. Wrong time, wrong place.’ He paused. ‘And I found something else to do.’

‘Did you think about coaching?’ She put a hand across her mouth. ‘Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.’

He liked the fact that she wasn’t pressuring him. There was no malice in Bailey Randall. She just wanted to help her patient, and he’d had first-hand experience of what her patient was going through right now. Of course she’d want to know how he’d coped. ‘I thought about it,’ he said. ‘Though I knew I was too young to be taken seriously when my knee was wrecked. At seventeen, you don’t really have enough experience to coach a team.’

‘So why did you choose medicine? That’s—well, a huge change of direction.’

‘My family are all GPs,’ he said. ‘I’d always thought I’d join them. I guess it was a surprise to everyone when I was spotted on the playing field at school and the local team took me on for training.’ He shrugged. ‘Then I had to make a choice. Risk trying for a career in football, or do my A-levels. My parents said to give it a go—I could always take my A-levels later if it didn’t work out. And when I was picked for the England squad … they threw one hell of a party.’

He smiled at the memory. ‘When my knee went, it hit me pretty hard. But I was lucky in a way, in that I could fall back on my original plans—I just took my A-levels two years later than I would’ve done if I hadn’t tried for a career in sport.’

‘So you trained as a GP?’ she asked.

‘No. I ended up training in emergency medicine,’ he said. ‘I liked the buzz. Then, like you, I had a secondment to a sports medicine department. And then it occurred to me that I could have the best of both worlds—I could be a doctor in the sport I’d always loved.’

‘That’s a good compromise,’ she said.

Again, to his surprise, he found himself asking questions and actually wanting to know the answers rather than being polite. ‘What about you? Is your family in medicine?’

‘No—my family has a restaurant. Mum’s the head chef, Dad’s front of house and my brothers are both kitchen serfs.’ At Jared’s raised eyebrows, she added swiftly, ‘Joke. Gio is Mum’s deputy—he’s going to take over when she retires. And Rob’s probably the best pastry chef in the universe and he makes the most amazing wedding cakes. They’re planning to expand the business that way, too.’

‘Didn’t your parents expect you to join the family firm?’

She shook her head. ‘Mum and Dad always said that we should follow our hearts and do what we love, and that they’d back us whatever we decided. Rob and Gio were always in the kitchen making stuff, so it was obvious what they wanted to do. And I was always bandaging my teddies when I was a toddler.’ She grinned. ‘And the dog, if I could get him to sit still.’

He could just imagine that. He’d bet she’d been the most determined and stubborn toddler ever. ‘A born doctor, then?’

‘I’ve no idea where it came from. It was just what I always wanted to do,’ she said. ‘And I guess I was lucky because my family’s always supported me. Even when I nag them about healthy eating and saturated fat.’ She laughed. ‘Though the nagging has at least made them put some super-healthy options on the menu—that’s gone down really well with the customers, so I feel I’ve made some kind of contribution to the family business, apart from volunteering to tastetest any new stuff.’

Clearly Bailey was very close to her family and Jared had a feeling that they adored her as much as she obviously adored them. And she cared enough about her patients to do something outside her comfort zone; he knew that it must’ve been daunting to ask him about the injury he didn’t talk about, but she’d asked him to see if he could help her patient rather than because she wanted to pry into his life.

‘Your patient,’ he said. ‘When are you seeing her next?’

‘Friday morning.’

‘I could,’ he suggested, ‘come and have a word with her, if you like.’

‘Really?’ The way she smiled at him made him feel as if the sun had just come out at midnight.

‘It might help her to talk to someone who’s been there and come out just fine on the other side,’ he said.

‘I think it would help her a lot. If you’re sure.’ She bit her lip. ‘I mean, I don’t want to rip open any old scars.’

He smiled. ‘It was a long time ago now. And I was lucky—I had someone who helped me. It’s my chance to pay it forward.’

She rested a hand on his arm; even through his sleeve, her touch made his skin tingle. ‘Thank you, Jared. I really appreciate it.’

‘No worries,’ he said.

On Friday, Bailey saw Vivienne in her clinic at the London Victoria and examined her knee. ‘Obviously you’ve followed my advice about rest, ice, compression and elevation,’ she said.

Vivienne nodded. ‘I want to play again as soon as possible. That means doing what you say.’

Bailey smiled. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know you’re good to go for surgery and you can see the surgeon this afternoon.’

‘That’s great news,’ Mr Kaine said, patting his daughter’s shoulder. ‘Thank you.’

‘Actually, there is something else,’ Bailey said. ‘Obviously I wouldn’t dream of breaking patient confidentiality, but I happen to know someone who had an ACL injury at your age, and I asked him for some advice for someone in your position.’

‘Was he a tennis player?’ Vivienne asked, looking interested.

‘No, he was in a different sport,’ Bailey said, ‘but the injury and the rehab are the same. Actually, he offered to come and have a chat with you. He’s waiting outside, if you’d like a word.’

Vivienne turned to her father, who nodded. ‘That’d be great. Thanks.’

Bailey opened her office door and looked out; Jared glanced up, caught her eye and came to the door. ‘She’d like to talk to me?’ he asked.

‘Yes. And thank you. I owe you,’ she said.

‘No. I’m just paying it forward,’ he reminded her. ‘Just as your patient will pay it forward, one day.’

It was a nice way of looking at it, Bailey thought. She brought him into the room and introduced him to Vivienne and Mr Kaine.

‘Well, I never. Jared Fraser—the England footballer. I remember watching you play years ago. You were amazing.’ Mr Kaine shook Jared’s hand. ‘It’s very good of you to come in and talk to us.’

‘My pleasure,’ Jared said.

‘So do you still play for England?’ Vivienne asked.

‘No. Unfortunately, they couldn’t fix my knee. Though that’s not likely to be the case for you,’ he emphasised, ‘because Dr Randall tells me that you’re a really good candidate for surgery. If you follow the rehab programme to the letter you’ll be fine. Dr Randall asked me for my advice, and I thought it might be better for you to have it in person, just in case you have any questions.’

Vivienne nodded. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Fraser.’

‘Right now,’ he said gently, ‘it probably feels like the end of the world and you’re worrying that you’re going to lose so much ground against everyone else.’

She bit her lip. ‘That’s exactly how it feels.’

‘So you need to take it one day at a time, and find someone you can talk to—someone who won’t let you pity yourself, but will make you be sensible and get the right balance between doing enough work to strengthen your knee, but not so much that you damage it again and end up back at square one,’ Jared said.

‘That’s good advice,’ Mr Kaine agreed. ‘I’ll always listen, Vivi, but he’s right—you do need someone else to talk to.’

‘I was lucky,’ Jared said. ‘I had a great coach. And he made me see that although my knee wouldn’t hold up enough for me to play at international level again, I had other options. I could learn to coach, or I could do what I ended up doing—I trained as a doctor, and I’m still part of the sport because nowadays I work with the youth team of a premiership division club. So even if there are complications in the future and you don’t end up playing at this level again, you’ll still have options—you can still be part of tennis.’

‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ Vivienne said, ‘but I don’t want to be a coach or a doctor. I just want to play tennis. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’

‘And you will play again,’ Bailey said. ‘But, as Dr Fraser said, you need to follow your rehab programme.’

‘Waiting is the worst bit,’ Jared said. ‘You’ll want to push yourself too hard. But don’t. Use that time to study instead. Look at different techniques, look at the way your opponents play and use that to hone your strategy. To really succeed at a top level in sport you need just as much up here …’ he tapped his head ‘… as you need the physical skills.’

‘Vivi picked up a racket practically as soon as she could walk,’ Mr Kaine said. ‘I used to play—nothing like at her level—just at a club on Sunday afternoons, and her mum would bring her to watch. And she ended up joining in.’ He ruffled her hair. ‘When she started beating us hollow and she wasn’t even ten years old, we knew we were seeing something special in the making. And you’ll get that back, love. We just have to make sure we do everything the doctors tell us, OK?’

‘OK,’ Vivienne said.

Bailey smiled at them both. ‘And I’ll do my very best to help you get that knee back to how it was, so you can go and get those grand slams.’

‘Can I be rude and ask, Mr Fraser, do you miss playing?’ Vivienne asked.

‘Sometimes,’ Jared said. ‘But I’m thirty-five now, so I’d be near the end of my professional playing career in any case. And I’m lucky because I really enjoy my job. It means I get the chance to help players fulfil their potential. If someone had told me that when I was your age, I would have laughed at them—but I really do feel I’ve achieved something when I see them grow and improve. So don’t rule it out as something you might do when you’re ready to retire from playing.’

Vivienne looked thoughtful, and Bailey could see that Jared’s words had given her a different perspective—something that would make all the waiting during her rehab a lot easier. ‘Thank you, Mr F—Dr Fraser,’ she amended.

When the Kaines had left, Jared was about to follow them out when Bailey stopped him. ‘Thanks for doing that, Jared—you’ve made a real difference to her.’

‘No worries.’

‘If I wasn’t up to my eyes in paperwork and appointments,’ she said, ‘I’d offer to take you for lunch to thank you properly. Or dinner—but I’m doing bridesmaid stuff for Joni tonight. So please consider this a kind of rain check.’ She took a plain white patisserie box from her desk drawer and handed it to him.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

She smiled. ‘A little slice of heaven. Don’t open it now. Tell me what you think later.’

‘OK.’ He looked intrigued. ‘I’ll text you. Good luck for tonight.’

‘Thanks.’

Later that evening, she had a text that made her laugh.

Best chocolate cake in the universe. Would very much like to help with more patients. Quite happy to be paid in cake.

I’ll see what I can do, she texted back.

Funny, when she’d first met Jared, she’d thought him grumpy and surly and a pain in the neck. Now she rather liked his dry sense of humour and the quiet, sensible way he went about things.

But she’d better not let herself get too close. After the way her marriage to Ed had splintered, she just didn’t trust herself to get it right next time. It was best to stick to being colleagues. Friends, too, maybe; but she’d have to dampen down the attraction that sparkled through her veins every time she saw him. To keep her heart safe.