Читать книгу The Summer We Loved - Wendy Jones Lou - Страница 8

I saw him again today, standing there, leaning against the wall. A set of notes hung casually in his hands, as he talked with the nurse whose patient he’d come to see. Did he see me? I don’t think so. He looked, but I don’t think he saw. His smile, as always, lit up the corners of my heart, but nothing was said, not to me. He must have asked out every nurse in the hospital at some point, either when he was here before, or since his return, but he never wanted me, not any more.

Am I that unattractive? Is it his reluctance to want me that’s making me think about him all the more? I hope not. I hope I’m not that shallow; maybe I am. Kate seems convinced there’s a decent guy lurking inside there, just waiting for someone to help him break out and I have to hope that she’s right. Because I saw something in his eyes the day of the wedding, just for a moment. It may be buried a long way down, but I can hear its voice.

Jenny’s brow crinkled as she let out a deep sigh and bit down on the end of her pen.

Whilst before he used to treat me like a little sister, now he barely acknowledges me. So here I remain, in limbo, waiting for him to notice me. And not in that wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am way he does with most women, but with something more, something deeper. I’m not a fool. I know that if he’d ever had any intentions romantically towards me he would have acted on them by now, but that is my hope, and for now, hope is all I have.

Putting her diary back in the drawer, Jenny slumped back down onto her bed. One of her friends had remarked once that her love life was rather akin to the rhyme for King Henry VIII’s wives: ‘Forgot to get divorced, should have been beheaded, lied, forgot to get divorced, should have been beheaded’ and now she was determined to survive. No more married men conveniently forgetting to tell her about their other halves; no more players. No one. She was through casting her net and coming up with jelly fish: all softness and beauty on the surface, but with barbs that stung you underneath. What she needed now was all or nothing. Love. Deep, meaningful, overwhelming love that took hold of you by the guts and dared you to feel the pain. Love that sucked you in and devoured you whole, while releasing you to evolve into something bigger, something… wonderful. Until that happened, she was not going to fall again.

Jenny hugged Mr Rochester, her old, worn, and much-loved teddy bear, to her chest. For now he was going to have to be enough. And she turned out the light and settled down to sleep.

At ten o’clock the next morning, Flis appeared at the kitchen door for breakfast. She was also on a late.

“Lover boy not eating with us this morning, then?” Jenny asked.

Flis shook her head. “He’s got a meeting in London today, so he didn’t stop over.”

“Anything important?”

“I’m not sure. He was a bit cagey last night, but I’ve got a feeling it might be a promotion.”

Jenny looked up from her cereal. “Do you think he might have to move there?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Would you go with him if he did?”

“In a heartbeat,” Flis said, excitement lighting up her eyes. “Of course. And be a kept woman in the big city? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“Sounds hideous, I’d say. Wouldn’t you miss work?” Jenny asked, not at all convinced she could give up her independence so easily.

“No way. Why, would you?”

Jenny thought for a second. “Sadly, I think I would,” she said. “I think I’d miss feeling like I belonged, that I mattered. I’d miss the people.”

“Some more than others.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow and Flis shot her a meaningful look.

“Oh, come on. You’re not still harping on about Peter Florin, are you? That was years ago, Flis. You’ve got Robert now.”

“I know, but Connie from Goodwood Ward got fooled by him the other day; it just reminded me. She’s only been in the hospital a few weeks. Someone should definitely warn them. It should be part of the welcome pack: “Welcome to St Steven’s Hospital. We hope you enjoy working as part of our team, but please, ladies, don’t let the seductive charms of Dr Peter Florin fool you.”

Jenny chuckled. “Look, forget about him, Flis. Pete was never going to be a keeper, you knew that. He’s a womaniser. You need to get over it.”

“I am, really.” Flis gave Jenny her best ‘sincere’ look and then rested her cheek back down on her hand. “I had hoped for more than one desperate shag, though.”

“Yeah, well, join the club. I’m sure there are a hundred nurses who all feel exactly the same way as you. And not just here, all over the place.”

“You’ve never got caught by him, though, have you?” Flis said.

Jenny winced inwardly, sore at having been reminded of her virtually leprotic allure. Was she the only one left out in the cold? “Nope.” She tried her hardest to sound smug. “He’ll have to be quicker than that to catch hold of me. I’ve gone man-vegan.”

Flis looked at her.

“Yes, I decided I’m done with manipulative, self-centred men.” Flis looked at her, with eyebrows almost on the ceiling. “And, no, that doesn’t mean I’ve gone the other way. I’m just not going to waste any more of my life dating losers.” She picked up her bowl, washed it and placed it on the rack to drain. “I’m going for a run,” she said. “See you in a bit.”

Under the clear, blue sky, Jenny stepped out into the garden and started to jog. She felt the sun warming her shoulders. It was going to be a good day, she thought.

Closing the back gate, she made her way along the alley and out into the sun. Houses passed by as she headed off along her well-trodden route. She picked up the pace, winding through the streets, until she found herself out in the countryside, quiet and alone.

Jenny sucked in deep breaths, filling her lungs with the fragrant air of the soft summer breeze as she let her mind wander. Her feet beat a rhythm on the ground and she wondered about a holiday. She had thought about going on a writers’ retreat in her time off at the end of the summer. It was something she had wanted to try for a long time, but had never quite found the courage to take the next step. Maybe one day, she thought. Probably just a pipe dream, anyway. Perhaps she’d just have a couple of weeks in the sun.

The daydream called out its want for a partner and Jenny remembered the look in Pete’s eyes the first time he had said hello and spoken to her on the wards, almost six years before. She had thought he liked her back then, maybe he had, but ever since that day at Adam and Kate’s wedding, things had changed. She should think herself lucky that he’d avoided her, having seen how little others got from him. But deep down she wanted to believe there was more to him, and to be honest, her vanity was smarting.

Her fondness for Pete had begun at the start. But in the early days Flis had been so besotted with him that she hadn’t felt able to try. With the disaster at the wedding, everything changed. Pete would check on her often, but his eyes never looked at her the same after that. At home, with Flis now feeling bitter, they had barely been allowed to mention his name, and then he had gone, off to other hospitals to gain experience in his job. And Jenny had thought that was that. Men had come and gone, but nothing remained.

But with Pete’s return had come a rekindling of an old ember and a yearning to be loved… by him. Sadly, the words ‘loved’ and ‘Pete’ seemed such a laughable contradiction that she was resigned to the fact that it was a lost cause and she would just have to wait it out until he was gone once more, which, if rumour was true, would only be a matter of months now.

As field merged with hedgerow, fence post with stream, she drifted into a world of fantasy, allowing herself to imagine scenarios still unexplored. A first date, a first kiss, an evening spent hand in hand, arm in arm, touching, holding, feeling… She tripped and stumbled on a root sticking out of the ground and looked up. Where was she? Realising she must have lost her way, Jenny headed back the way she had come and rectified her route, finally continuing on her trail, relieved to have been alone and unobserved.

With her new resolution echoing in her mind, she decided to clarify her plan with the hope of easing her pain. “He. Doesn’t. Want. Me. He. Doesn’t. Want. Me,” her thoughts sang back as her feet fell hard on the ground. And when the reality of that had finally hit home, she changed tack with a new voice. “I. Don’t. Need. Him. I. Don’t. Need. Him.” It was something she had to learn, however hard the bite, for it was in her power to determine the rest of her life and she was not willing to be a doormat for anyone.

Staggering back home from a pace a bit more ambitious than usual, Jenny hit the shower and got ready for work. It was a double-edged sword, working on a surgical ward and being smitten with an emotionally stunted anaesthetist. The upside was that she got to see him far more than if she had worked on any other ward, but the downside was the same. Agony and ecstasy in equal measure.

Jenny stood at the nurses’ station, listening to handover. All around her, work carried on as usual: trollies wheeled about, rattling cups and saucers, instruments and trays, and patients pressed their buzzers. Incessant demand. And then Dr Peter Florin breezed past and the world about her stopped. Jenny’s heart trembled and she forced herself to focus back on the job in hand, but not before noticing the heaviness of his gaze and the thin set of his lips.

She had seen him like this before, years ago, when he first came to work at St Steven’s. She had forgotten how his moods could flip like a light switch. Five long years he had been out of her life. But not any more. And now she had become one of those sad women who look at a man and think they can change him. Like she was so special that he would do anything just to be with her! She rolled her eyes at her own folly. Why was she always so weak when it came to him? Her heartbeat surged faster every time he was near. She had learned to be strong before, hadn’t she? But strength hadn’t brought her happiness. Could it eventually set her free?

The shift rolled by, mundane, nothing special, but that night Jenny felt uneasy. The fact that she was noticing little changes, subtle details about him, made it clear to her that her heart was still in peril. So to protect herself she made a solemn promise. Not until she was convinced he wanted her, really wanted her, not just her body, but all of her. Would she let him in? And she was determined to stick by this. She wobbled at the thought of a single night of unbridled passion with Pete, something so many others had known. No, she couldn’t. She had learned the consequences of that one a long time ago. For her it had to be different. She had to be sure… should ever the occasion arise.

He was looking as though that cloud was back over his head again today, she wrote in her diary that night. How I wish I could brush away those cobwebs. Take him in my arms and feel his weight against me.

Turmoil raged within her. Her romantic heart beating wildly against her mind. Be strong, Jen, she thought. You mustn’t forget. As Flis had found out, loss of hope would be far worse than this.

The next morning she was on an early and the ward was bedlam. The anaesthetist for Mr Hammond’s list had failed to turn up for work and so everyone had been delayed while the doctors shifted around to cover them. Jenny checked the chart. Friday – am - Dr Florin. Pete was meant to be gassing that morning; it was Pete who hadn’t turned up for work. Probably woken up in the wrong bed, she thought.

Jenny had hoped he’d have grown out of this behaviour by now, but it seemed not. She remembered he’d got into trouble more than once for having too many days ‘sick’ last time he was around. She wanted to be angry at him, shirking his responsibilities. It went against every principle she held to, but she couldn’t. She would get Kate to have a word with him again when she got back from her holiday. The two of them seemed to get on well together. Maybe she could do something to sort him out.

That evening a group of nurses were planning to meet up in town and then head over to Helix for Maisie’s hen night. Sadly, Jenny was starting to feel a little old to show her face in a nightclub, especially on a Friday night. She probably had ten years on the majority of those there, but she was happy enough to go for a drink beforehand.

Heather and Chloe, her two other housemates, knocked on her bedroom door. “Come on, Jen. We don’t want to be late. Flis’ll want to hear all the juicy gossip when she gets off work later. Hurry up,” they called.

Jenny opened her door and beamed. She scrubbed up pretty well, even if she did say so herself.

“Wow, you look great,” Heather said, just as a horn blared outside. The two young nurses squealed. “The taxi!” and they hurried out to get started on their evening.

Jenny stood in the doorway of the Swan Inn and looked around. She was wearing a short brown leather jacket, skinny blue jeans, heels and her diamond stud earring in the top of her ear. She spotted the group of nurses out celebrating the impending wedding and a cheer went up as the three of them joined in.

Jenny was enjoying the evening, having a laugh and a drink with the girls, and on the way to the toilets, she spotted a face she knew. It was Pete, but not the Pete she was used to. He was sitting in a dark corner, his eyes empty, lost somewhere in a world of his own. Gone were the smiles and charm of the daytime. His expression was dulled and his shoulders hunched. What could have happened? She had just decided to go over and talk to him when he looked up and spotted her. A look of defiance lifted his chin and he grabbed the woman clearing the table, hauling her onto his lap, and in the blink of an eye there he was again: the charmer, springing back into action. Jenny walked on. Of course, she thought. As if he would ever be lonely!

Later that evening, as the others made their way on to the nightclub, Jenny walked outside to catch a cab home, and standing on the pavement waiting for her ride, she looked back through the window and noticed Pete, still in the same place he’d been sitting all evening, his head, once again, hung over his pint.

It was a more sombre note she wrote in her diary that night.

Today his eyes were downcast and his features drawn, and yet still he had the power to turn my bones to jelly. I wonder what has happened. Why was he missing at work today and why was he all alone on such a lovely summer’s evening?

Maybe I’m just kidding myself, looking for a reason to feel sorry for him. He could easily have been meeting some beautiful woman a little later on, for a night of fabulous, raw, all-consuming passion. Passion… with Pete. I bet he’s good… He should be. He’s had enough practice!

But he didn’t look happy. Why wasn’t he happy? He’s gorgeous. He’s got a body to die for, beautiful eyes, handsome and clever. Everybody likes him. Why wasn’t he happy?

If only Kate was here, instead of halfway round the other side of the world, she could have spoken to her about it.

Jenny put the cap back on her pen, slumped against her pillow and stared at the ceiling. So many of her friends had been happily married off in the past few years. She’d lost track of the number of weddings she’d been to. Only a few of them remained single now - a dying breed. Even fickle old Flis had a steady boyfriend. She felt old.

The hospital was full of pretty young nurses now too. Of course they weren’t half so good at nursing, she thought, not like in her day. Training had been far better when she had come through, but they would learn.

Sharing a house with a couple of young nurses brought it home to her every day, the difference in mind-sets. If Pete was still single, if he was single, he was never going to look at her now. She thought back to all the stupid stunts she had pulled in her younger days, all in the pursuit of happiness. You couldn’t win love. She had learned that now. You just had to wait and hope that it was given.

Still, it was only a matter of time until he would be moving on again. Then maybe she could try and find love in other places, in men who didn’t make her stomach dance every time they walked in the room and who couldn’t make her fingers tremble at the sound of their voice.

Time. Time was a cruel thing. In the years since they had first met, Pete had only managed to look more and more attractive. But he was the complete opposite of what she needed. ‘Dependable’ and ‘committed’ were not words to be associated with the dashing Dr Florin. Caring of his patients, yes. Brilliant at his work, maybe. But not reliable. Not solid. But with all his faults, and she knew they were many, Jenny still longed to make him happy, to watch those eyes shining with delight, to see him smiling back at her like they had done once before, a long time ago, and to tell him how much his words had meant to her.

*

Pete walked in and looked over her shoulder. “Where have you got to?” he asked.

“Just about to start on you,” she said.

He winced. “Can I get you a cup of tea? I was just about to make one.”

Jenny turned around and looked at him. “Tea would be lovely, thank you,” she said. “Now push off. I can’t concentrate with you hovering around, looking over my shoulder.” She smiled.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he told her and winked before he closed the door, and then she was alone again.

*

Pete didn’t know what all the fuss was about. All he had done was offer to buy the girl a drink. There was no need to go all macho over it. Besides, she hadn’t exactly said no, had she? In fact, she seemed quite keen on the idea of the two of them getting it on, he’d thought. So she had a boyfriend, so what? It wasn’t like they were married, or anything.

Pete’s elbow slipped and his head fell forward onto the counter, knocking him in the eye. Maybe he had had enough. He rallied, only to find a complete bear of a guy standing before him. Pete hoisted himself up, his vision beginning to blur. “Come on, now. I don’ wanna figh’ you.” He attempted to pat the man on the shoulder, but his judgement was off and he only succeeded in shoving him in the chest, annoying him even further. The man stepped closer, snarling.

“I’n warnin yooou,” he slurred, swaying. “I know martial ahts an’ I’m a damn goo’ boxer too.” He reached over to take a swig of his drink, missed and managed to spill his pint along the bar, splashing the already angered man. The bear in front of him growled and from the beer-sodden haze, lights suddenly sparked all around him. Pain, like dynamite exploding in the side of his face, penetrated the cotton-wool cloak of his mind and he was wrapped in darkness.