Doctor Knows Best Page 14

  “No, no, we are far too busy here,” said Megan quickly. Much too quickly she knew. “You wish him a happy New Year for me. Goodbye to you both.”

  “Goodbye,” came their two happy voices over the phone. Megan suddenly felt very miserable and alone indeed. She had successfully kept thoughts of Giles at bay for several days, but now with Richard’s call the memories of him came back with painful clarity. Desperately she wished she could have been there with him, Joanna and Richard, and that wretched woman Fiona could have stayed on the other side of the Atlantic.

  The long night dragged on interminably through to morning, and by the time she had finished her stint of duty she felt drained of everything except a deep feeling of unhappiness.

  “Happy New Year,” said Thelma brightly as she came on duty.

  “What’s happy about it?” asked Megan wearily. She certainly didn’t feel happy and she didn’t think Thelma had anything to feel particularly happy about.

  “Sister,” remonstrated Thelma good-naturedly, “I always think the next year must be better than the last—it’s what keeps me going.”

  Megan smiled wanly. Trust Thelma to have a good, sensible philosophy she thought, feeling ashamed of herself. “You’re right,” she said. “I must think like that too. Think positive, as they say!”

  “You’d be surprised at the difference it makes,” said Thelma as she took off her cloak and hung it up. “I live my life in a permanent state of anticipation!” She laughed. “I’m usually disappointed, but never mind.”

  Megan felt even more ashamed. How stupid she had been, allowing herself to wallow in self-pity all night. She attempted to put on a brighter face. “Don’t take any notice of me,” she said. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I’m not used to doing the night shift.”

  “What has happened to Sister Moore?” asked Thelma.

  “She had last night off,” said Megan. “I had all of Christmas, so she deserves the New Year.” She paused at the door. “Happy New Year, Thelma, I hope that this year really does turn out to be a better one for you.”

  “So do I,” answered Thelma with feeling.

  Megan made her way back to her room thinking about Thelma’s philosophy. There was no doubt about it, that was the way to look at life. I must try to do that, she thought as she climbed into bed and immediately fell soundly asleep, the sleep of exhaustion.

  In the days following New Year Megan determinedly put Giles Elliott out of her mind, adopting the philosophy that the future would have to take care of itself. When Susan came back from her leave Megan cautiously sounded her out about Johnny Cox, as she had promised Johnny she would. To her surprise Susan was as enamoured of Johnny as he was of her, and equally unsure of his feelings. Susan, too, was afraid to show her true feelings in case she was rebuffed. Megan said nothing to Susan about Johnny; he’s got to tell her himself, she thought, so she cornered him next time she saw him in the canteen.

  “Have you seen Susan?” were his first words.

  Megan smiled. “Yes, I’ve seen Susan,” she answered, “and my advice to you is ask her out and tell her how you feel.”

  Johnny grinned from ear to ear. “You mean I’ve got a chance?” he asked incredulously.

  “A very good one,” said Megan briskly, “and from now on you’ve got to do all the work!”

  Johnny reached across the table and squeezed Megan’s hand. “Thanks, you’re a real pal,” he said. “I’ll do the same for you one day.” He bolted down the rest of his lunch. “I think I’ll dash up to the orthopaedic ward before my theatre list this afternoon. Never know, I might just be able to have a quick word with her.”

  “Don’t get her into trouble with Sister,” warned Megan. “If Sister Warner is on today be careful, she has no sense of humour at all.”

  Johnny waved a hand airily as he got up from the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll use my irresistible charm on her!” All his old self-confidence had come bubbling back and he was on top of the world again.

  Megan watched his retreating figure wistfully. Lucky Johnny and Susan. Why can’t I have a love life, she thought mournfully. Why does Giles Elliott have to be free and yet somehow not free? Something or someone is there, I know, and I don’t know what. Why couldn’t I have met him before he was married—although he wouldn’t have looked at me then, she reflected wryly, I would have been much too young and he wouldn’t have had Joanna so Richard wouldn’t have met her. If Richard hadn’t met Joanna then Giles wouldn’t have spent Christmas with them in Devon. She smiled ruefully. It was like a never-ending circle, full of ifs and buts! The only thing she bitterly regretted was that she had allowed herself to fall hopelessly in love with him, and that he obviously didn’t love her. He was attracted, yes, but in love, no, she thought cynically. She gave herself a brisk mental shake; forget him, she instructed her wayward thoughts. If you can, came the nagging little voice which always popped up unbidden when she least wanted it to.

  When she returned to Casualty after lunch there was a message scrawled for her on the notice board. Sister Jones—please phone Mr. Elliott and it gave his London telephone number. Even the sight of his name scribbled on the noticeboard caused Megan’s heart to lurch in an unruly manner. It was with trembling fingers that she dialled the number in her office. This is ridiculous, she told herself, no man is worth getting into such a state for.

  Giles answered the telephone himself, almost as if he had been waiting for her to ring.

  “Hello,” said Megan, keeping her voice cool and efficient. “You left a message for me to ring.”

  “Yes, I did,” said Giles in that soft voice which caused her heart to beat even faster. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” said Megan, wondering if that was the only reason he had rung. But why should he do that? He was returning to the casualty department in two days’ time.

  “I expect you are wondering why I rang,” said Giles, voicing Megan’s thoughts.

  Megan hesitated. “Well, actually, yes I was,” she confessed. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Several things,” answered Giles. “The first thing is, are you free on Thursday night?”

  “Yes,” said Megan, mystified, “I hadn’t planned to do anything.”

  “Good,” said Giles. “Then would you please keep it free. I would like you to come out for a meal with Fiona, Joanna and me.”

  “You would?” asked Megan in surprise, not feeling particularly happy at the thought of having to sit through a meal with his sister-in-law. “Are you sure Fiona will want to meet me?”

  “I want her to meet you,” said Giles.

  Megan began to feel a little irritated at the peculiar turn of events. “I can’t think why—she and I can’t possibly have anything in common.”

  “It’s not for your benefit, or hers,” answered Giles rather taciturnly, “nor mine either, but for Joanna.” He paused, then sighed. “I’m sorry to draw you into what is really my family problem, but Joanna hasn’t been easy to deal with. She has refused point blank to go to America and has told her aunt that she wants to finish her schooling in the south of England. I was thinking of sending her to your old school, as a boarder. It is relatively near the hospital, so she could come home at weekends if she wanted to. Joanna has persuaded her aunt that it is a good school and has cited you as a shining example of its products!” He laughed, but to Megan it sounded forced. “There, you should be flattered.”

  “I am, of course,” answered Megan slowly, “but I left school a long time ago, although I have kept in touch and I know it hasn’t changed that much.”

  “Yes, I know that because Richard told me,” said Giles. “The other reason I’m bringing them both down is that Joanna is due to have an X-ray through her plaster, just to check that all is going well. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I see,” said Megan. “Well, I don’t reall
y have much choice, do I?”

  “Yes, of course you do,” answered Giles quickly with a tinge of impatience. “If you don’t want to do it, just say no.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Megan, “as long as you remember that I shall only give my opinion on the school and not whether Joanna should go to America or stay in England.”

  “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t be so unthinking as to put you in that invidious position. I’ll see you on Thursday then. Joanna has to attend the fracture clinic in the afternoon to see Mr. Morgan. I’ll let you know what time we’ll pick you up in the evening.”

  “You needn’t pick me up,” said Megan quickly. “Just tell me where you are going and I’ll get there.”

  “Without a car?” asked Giles. “Have you forgotten that Richard still has your car?”

  Megan sighed. “For a moment, yes,” she confessed. “I’ll have to rely on you, I’m afraid I’ve no alternative.”

  “I’m sorry,” Giles’ voice sounded clipped, “I know you prefer your independence. See you on Thursday.”

  Long after she had put down the phone Megan sat at her desk, drumming her fingers nervously, staring with unseeing eyes at the tattered Christmas decorations still hanging in her office. She felt a hard lump of apprehension at the thought of the meeting on Thursday. The idea of seeing Giles with Fiona she found almost unbearable, for she was a living link with his dead wife. Her thoughts returned to Giles once more. He had sounded so unfriendly on the telephone that she wondered whether he would have preferred Joanna to have gone to America—then quickly dismissed that as nonsense. If there was one thing she could be certain of it was the fact that he loved his daughter dearly and would do anything to make her happy. She wondered about Fiona again. What would she be like?

  When Thursday arrived Megan found she had butterflies in her stomach from the moment she got up. Was it because of meeting Joanna’s Aunt Fiona? Or was it because of seeing Giles again? She wasn’t sure; perhaps it was a little of both she decided.

  She saw Giles and Joanna briefly at the end of the corridor in the early afternoon, obviously on their way to the appointment with Mr. Morgan. They didn’t see her and she didn’t bother to make her presence known. Time enough for that later, she thought.

  Casualty was fairly slack that afternoon so Megan forced herself to take the opportunity to catch up with some paperwork. She had a lecture to give the following week to some pupil nurses and she needed to write up some transparencies to use for illustration on the overhead projector in the seminar room. It was a job she hated doing, but it had to be done and it needed all her concentration. So it was in a slightly irritated tone of voice that she answered the tentative knock on her door.

  “Come in,” she said without looking up.

  “Hi,” said a voice.

  Megan looked up swiftly. It was Joanna, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she hobbled on her walking plaster towards Megan’s desk.

  Megan stood up and pushed her chair back. “Hello,” she said, “you are looking very fit and well—obviously the leg isn’t bothering you at all.”

  “No, it is absolutely fine,” said Joanna, kissing Megan on both cheeks. “Mr. Morgan says I can probably have the plaster off a week early.” She sat down in the armchair. “Dad’s just coming, he’s still talking to Mr. Morgan.”

  Megan perched herself on the edge of her desk. “I understand I am to convince your aunt that Earlsfield School is a good school for young ladies like you,” she said.

  Joanna grinned. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve almost convinced her myself. She only needs a little push in the right direction.”

  “And I’m supposed to give that little push?” queried Megan.

  “That’s the general idea,” answered Joanna.

  “Whose idea?” Megan couldn’t resist asking. “Yours or your father’s?”

  “Both,” came a deep voice from the doorway.

  Megan stood up hastily and self-consciously smoothed her uniform, acutely aware of his steely blue gaze on her.

  He smiled. “Why is it all nurses smooth their uniforms?” he said. “You look impeccable as usual.” His blue eyes twinkled and Megan found herself smiling back against her will.

  “It’s a habit, I suppose,” she said. “Something that lingers on from student days, when one was always being told off for some little thing.”

  “Joanna has told you that she is making excellent progress I suppose?” he said.

  Megan laughed. “Yes, something about taking the plaster off a week early, I believe.”

  “That remains to be seen,” said Giles. “I’ve been talking to Mr. Morgan about that and we’ll see after the next X-ray.”

  “Dad, honestly!” protested Joanna. “You treat me as if I’m a china doll. Are you like this with all your patients?”

  “Yes,” answered her father sternly. “I believe in erring on the side of caution.” Joanna glowered at him but said nothing as Giles continued, “I’ve made a booking for a meal tonight for seven-thirty—will that suit you, Megan?”

  “That will be fine,” answered Megan, suddenly feeling self-conscious again. “What time will you pick me up?”

  “At seven o’clock,” said Giles matter-of-factly. “That will give us a short time for introductions and a drink before the meal.” He looked at his watch. “Come along, you lady,” he said to his daughter. “You and I are due back.” He smiled briefly at Megan as they left the office. “See you at seven.”

  Megan nodded mutely. From seeming relaxed and friendly when he had first come in, he now seemed to have withdrawn again. I know this evening is going to be awful, thought Megan. I’m going to feel such an outsider. I wish I hadn’t agreed to go. But she had, and she couldn’t get out of it at that late stage, so that was that.

  At seven promptly she was waiting outside the nurses’ block. She had cursed herself for not asking Giles where they would be dining, but had guessed that it would be somewhere fairly expensive and had dressed accordingly. She had bought herself a new soft blue woollen dress before Christmas and had then forgotten to take it home with her and so had not worn it. Now seems a suitable opportunity she had thought as she got ready that evening. It was completely plain, a slim, knitted dress that clung to her shapely figure. With it she wore a simple gold locket as her only adornment. Her abundant brown hair she brushed back loosely and left it hanging in soft curls around her shoulders. She had been going to put it up, but remembering the last time she had dined with Giles she left it down. But why? a mocking little voice inside her taunted. It isn’t going to be just the two of you alone this time, is it?

  She had only waited a moment when Giles’ car drew up silently alongside her. To her surprise it was empty save for Giles.

  “But where are the others?” she asked.

  “Waiting for us back at the hotel,” answered Giles smoothly in a non-committal voice as he opened the car door for Megan. “As Fiona is staying at The Royal, and the food is good, I thought we might as well eat there. Fiona prefers hotel restaurants to other types of eating places anyway.”

  “Oh,” said Megan, not knowing what else to say. The Royal was the most expensive hotel in town and she was glad she had worn her new dress, but wished she’d had a smarter coat to put on. “I’m not looking terribly smart for The Royal,” she said, indicating her old brown velvet coat. “I wore it for warmth.”

  “Very sensible,” said Giles in the same non-committal tone of voice.

  Oh hell, thought Megan despondently, this is going to be an awful evening, I just know it is.

  She was sure the attendant at The Royal took her coat disdainfully as she handed it to him in the cloakroom, and it made her even more despondent. A fact not helped when she first set eyes on Fiona, Giles’ sister-in-law. Megan had expected her to be attractive, but she had not expected her to be like something out of a fashion magazine. She was exq
uisitely groomed, from the pale golden hair on her head, down to the delicately painted toenails that peeped through the sheerest stockings out of impossibly high sandals. Suddenly the blue dress, which Megan had thought looked quite attractive, paled into insignificance. I might as well have got it from Oxfam thought Megan sourly, I can’t compete with glamour like this.

  “So nice to meet you, my dear, I’ve heard such a lot about you,” Fiona drawled with a heavy American accent.

  Megan smiled and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said briefly.

  “Darling, do go and get us all a gin,” Fiona said imperiously to Giles. Then turning back to Megan she asked, “Or would you prefer a Martini or something?”

  Megan shook her head. “Gin and tonic will be fine.” This was a Giles she hadn’t seen before. Somehow she had never imagined him being ordered about by a woman, but he just nodded at Fiona and went across to the bar.

  “I suppose you know why we’ve dragged you here,” said Fiona, lighting a cigarette.

  Megan nodded, watching with fascination as her fingers with their incredibly long, red-painted nails cupped around the cigarette she was lighting. “Yes, you want to know about Earlsfield School,” she said. “As I told Giles, it is some time since I left but I have kept in touch through various functions.”

  Fiona laughed and it was a low, sexy sound. “Some time since you left! My dear, you look as if you left yesterday. I find it incredible to think you are actually a Sister at the hospital.”

  “Well, she is, Aunt Fiona,” interrupted Joanna, “and a very good one too.”

  “Yes, yes, I know, your father is always telling me,” said her aunt. Then she patted Joanna on the hand. “Don’t look so worried, I’m not going to upset your friend.”

  As the evening wore on Megan actually began to quite like Fiona. She was amusing, in a bitchy kind of way, and was quite obviously a woman of the world. Giles was strangely quiet though, and Megan wondered whether it was because she was there. He would probably prefer to be with Fiona on his own she thought, watching him as he was speaking to her. What was going on inside that handsome dark head of his? He seemed to be friendly and yet aloof, but Megan noticed that whatever Fiona wanted he ordered immediately.