Doctor Knows Best Read online

  By the end of the evening Fiona announced to the table at large that she was satisfied that Earlsfield School would be a suitable place for her niece to be educated. “Although I do make one stipulation,” she said to Giles across the dinner table.

  Megan glanced at Giles and saw his face harden. His mouth was tight as he answered, “Oh, and what is that?”

  “That Joanna spends the long summer holidays with me. The Californian sunshine will do her good.”

  “Yes,” Joanna answered, “I don’t mind coming over for six weeks. That would be fun, as long as you promise we can go to the beach house.”

  “I promise,” said Fiona, pulling a face, “as long as you promise you don’t expect me to keep you company and lie out in the sun with you. The sun is so ageing to one’s skin, don’t you think?” she said turning to Megan.

  “Why, I…er, I hadn’t ever thought about it,” said Megan truthfully. Now that she looked at Fiona closely she could see that she wasn’t quite as flawless as she first appeared. Skillfully applied make-up hid her faults.

  “No,” said Fiona with a little laugh, “I don’t suppose you have. When you are as young as you are, you don’t have to worry about lines and wrinkles.”

  “Oh, I never will,” answered Megan emphatically. “If the wrinkles come, let them. Laughter lines, that’s what my mother always call them.”

  “Character lines,” said Giles.

  Fiona glanced at him, annoyance written all over her face. “If Giles had his way, women would go without make-up altogether,” she said.

  In that brief moment Megan caught a glimpse of the relationship between Giles and Fiona. They were obviously both strong characters and she knew instinctively that they must have clashed head-on over something. Still, that doesn’t always stop you loving someone she thought, remembering what Giles had said about not being able to switch off love. They were closely tied, she could see it, and the thought rankled. It’s no good, she thought bitterly. Much as I love him, I could never play second fiddle to that fascinating creature. That is, even if he asked me! He’ll never find another woman like her, and certainly an uninteresting little hospital sister, who has done nothing special and been nowhere in particular, can ever hope to take her place.

  As soon as they had finished their coffee Megan made her excuses. “Thank you for a lovely dinner,” she said politely to Giles. “It was nice meeting you, Fiona, and I’m glad if I’ve been able to help.”

  “You have, my dear,” drawled Fiona, extending her long white hand tipped with the blood-red nails. “I feel satisfied in my own mind now.” She smiled at Megan. “Perhaps I’ll see you again some time.”

  “Perhaps,” said Megan, resisting the temptation to add, but it’s highly unlikely!

  Giles rose with Megan. “I’ll get your coat,” he said, “and then I’ll drive you back to the hospital.”

  Megan protested. “That isn’t necessary, I can take a taxi, it’s no problem.”

  “It’s no problem for me to drive you either,” he said brusquely. “I’ll get your coat.” Without waiting for her reply he strode across to the cloakroom.

  On the drive back they engaged in a stilted form of conversation. Megan felt miserable; he was so near and yet so far away His thoughts were still with Fiona, she supposed sadly. She longed to reach out and touch his stern profile, but knew she daren’t however much she wanted to.

  “I’ll be glad when Richard starts his term again,” she said for want of something better to say. “At least then I’ll have my car back again.”

  “Yes,” said Giles, “you’ll be able to get out and about with your friends.”

  “Oh, I do that anyway,” replied Megan without thinking and then stopped, remembering when he had telephoned and Johnny had answered.

  “I’m aware of that,” said Giles smoothly, his voice sounding cold and hard.

  Megan felt even more miserable. It was bad enough her loving him and him not being particularly interested, but somehow the fact that he thought she was having an affair with Johnny Cox made it even more unbearable. Yet what could she do? It would be quite ridiculous for her to tell him that Johnny and Susan were the ones who had fallen in love—he wouldn’t be interested. Even worse, he might guess the reason she wanted him to know. But in spite of logic telling her otherwise, Megan rashly decided to take the plunge.

  “Johnny Cox isn’t my boyfriend, you know,” she remarked as casually as her voice would allow. “He’s very smitten with Susan North and I wouldn’t be surprised if they got engaged soon.”

  Giles turned and looked at her with a strange expression in his blue eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry Megan,” he said.

  “Why?” asked Megan, not expecting this reaction from him.

  “I don’t like to think of you being hurt,” he said quietly.

  “Johnny hasn’t hurt me,” said Megan emphatically. “He has only ever been a plain, ordinary friend to me, nothing more, and I’m glad for him and Susan.”

  “I see,” said Giles. “I must have been mistaken then, but from what Richard said, or rather, perhaps didn’t say, I gathered that he thought there was someone rather special in your life.”

  There is, there is, it’s you, Megan wanted to cry out, but all she said, in an almost inaudible whisper, was, “There is, but nothing will ever come of it.”

  “Why not?” demanded Giles.

  “Because…” Megan hesitated. How could she get out of this hole without letting him guess the true identity of the man she loved. “It’s too complicated and anyway it wouldn’t interest you,” she said at last rather lamely.

  “Oh,” said Giles. Then he said, “The course of true love never does run smoothly, so they tell me.” How well I know it thought Megan, but said nothing as Giles brought the big car to a halt outside the nurses’ home.

  “Thank you once again for a pleasant evening,” she said, her voice sounding small and tight in her ears. She felt like an awkward schoolgirl, groping for the right words.

  “Thank you for convincing Fiona,” he said. “The evening went very smoothly I thought.”

  “Oh yes,” said Megan quickly, “I liked Fiona and she’s very glamorous, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” said Giles abruptly and in a tone of voice that precluded any further conversation. “Goodnight, Megan.” He leaned across and opened the car door for her. As he moved, the weight of his body brushed against her. Megan felt her senses drowning as she smelled the heady odour of his aftershave, the tangy masculine fragrance of his skin. She longed to brush her lips against his dark head and put her arms around him.

  He turned to her as he drew back from opening the door and for a moment Megan thought her dreams were to be answered and that he would kiss her, for his face came nearer to hers. She could just see the rugged outline of his features in the semi-darkness and she felt herself being drawn towards him as if he was a powerful magnet. It seemed to Megan that they lingered like that for a lifetime, quivering on the brink of a kiss. Then swiftly he drew back.

  “I must get back to Joanna and Fiona,” he said.

  “Yes,” said Megan dully, “you must.” She climbed out of the car, her heart a leaden weight of pain. She could have cried out loud in her anguish, but instead she managed a bright smile and a wave as she closed the door.

  “Thank you again for a lovely dinner,” she said, slamming the door shut.

  Giles just nodded briefly in acknowledgement and then, putting the car in gear, roared off into the darkness without a backward glance.

  Chapter Ten

  After that evening with Giles, Fiona and Joanna, it seemed to Megan that he was avoiding her. Rubbish, it’s your imagination she told herself—he has no reason to avoid you. Whatever the reason, however, their paths hardly crossed at all in the following week. He only came into the casualty area when a senior opinion was needed, and even Casualty itse
lf was strangely quiet.

  “Boring, isn’t it?” said Thelma to Megan one day. “Usually I’m rushed off my feet and curse people who come in here with trivial complaints, but at the moment I’d welcome a case of sunburn!”

  Megan laughed. “Welcome it? I should think we’d all be amazed by it! Particularly as it’s the end of January and we haven’t seen the sun for at least eight days!” She sighed. “Everything has been hidden by this depressing grey cloud and it just suits my mood.”

  “Mine too,” said Thelma gloomily.

  “What about your philosophy of always looking on the bright side?” asked Megan. “What has happened to that?”

  “Gone down the plughole,” said Thelma, “along with the washing-up water.”

  “You must get yourself a dishwasher then,” said Jamie Green as he breezed in, white coat flying behind him.

  “Where have you been?” asked Megan. “I haven’t seen you since the Christmas show. I kept meaning to ask where you were but I forgot.”

  “Just shows how unimportant I am,” said Jamie. “And there was I, thinking that Casualty couldn’t manage without me.”

  “It was very difficult, dear,” said Thelma brightening. Jamie had always been one of her favourites. “How did the study leave go?” she asked. “And more importantly, how did the exam go?”

  “Well, the written wasn’t too bad, but I’ve still got the horror of the vivas to survive. Still,” he added, “if all else fails I can always be an ambulance driver, or better still a train driver. That always was my original ambition!”

  Megan laughed. “You won’t fail, I’m sure,” she said. For all his joking and seemingly flippant attitude, Jamie Green was an extremely serious and dedicated young doctor, and she was sure he would make it to the top.

  “Better go and see the big white boss I suppose,” said Jamie. “He gave me strict instructions to report back to him after the exam, and he wants a copy of the paper.” He fished a crumpled piece of paper with printed questions on it out of his pocket.

  “That’s a bit mucky,” said Megan. “If you photocopy it, at least you can give Mr. Elliott a flat copy and not one that looks as if it has been used to wrap fish and chips.”

  “Probably was,” said Jamie. “I don’t remember much of last night. After the exam I went out on the town with some old mates of mine from medical school.” He laughed. “Do you know, one of them is still up in London—he can’t remember where he left his car!”

  “I don’t believe you,” cried Megan and Thelma simultaneously.

  “It’s true,” insisted Jamie. “He had to ring his department at Northampton and tell them he was sick. He daren’t say he was too drunk to remember where he had put the car.”

  “I should think not,” said Megan severely. “That wouldn’t go down at all well with his superiors. Here, give me that,” she took the scruffy exam paper from Jamie. “I’ll pop along to the photocopier and copy it for you before you go in to see Mr. Elliott.” With the exam paper in her hand she hurried off down the corridor towards the admin block where the photocopier was located. As she passed Giles Elliott’s office the door opened and he strode out. A collision was inevitable for Megan was going down the corridor fast and Giles had his head down reading some notes. As she cannoned into him Megan knocked the file from his hand, the folder split open and the patient’s notes, records and letters spilled out everywhere on to the corridor floor.

  Giles swore softly under his breath.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” muttered Megan in confusion, bending down to pick up the papers at the very moment Giles also bent down for the same reason. Their faces came to within an inch of each other and Megan could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and dared not look up. If she looked into those blue eyes of his she would be lost, she knew it.

  “Let’s toss for it.” His deep voice sounded amused. “If we both try and pick them up we shall bang heads and end up being treated for concussion.”

  Megan stood up, still not looking at him. “I’d better pick them up as it was really my fault,” she said, looking down at the floor.

  “Nonsense, it was just as much my fault,” he answered. “I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he laughed gently.

  A secretary came out of the typists’ office further down the corridor. “Oh, Mr. Elliott,” she said, “what a mess you’ve got those notes in!” She bent down and proceeded to pick up the papers and put them in order.

  There was no reason to stay chatting any longer and Megan felt suddenly shy. It was his eyes; she felt sure he could read every chaotic thought that was tumbling through her head.

  “I’d better be about my business,” she muttered and started to walk down the corridor, acutely aware that he was standing watching her. She could feel his gaze on her back almost like a physical pressure. Thank goodness I wear tights and not seamed stockings like Thelma, she thought feverishly. At least I know I haven’t got crooked seams!

  As she turned the corner into the admin block she breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t seen him for days, then all it had needed was a brief encounter for her to feel like a lovesick sixteen-year-old again. She slapped the exam paper angrily against her side. You are stupid, Megan Jones, she told herself. It’s just no good, you have got to stop caring about him. Although even as she was giving herself such good sensible advice she knew it was futile. She might just as well have been King Canute trying to hold back the waves.

  She didn’t see Giles again that day. Although she knew he was in his office because she could hear his voice every time she walked past, he didn’t emerge again. As she went off duty that night Megan thought of the next two days ahead. Two whole days off, plus the weekend. Normally she looked forward to the times when she had a nice long stretch of off-duty. It didn’t happen too often as she usually worked a normal week, Monday to Friday, but every now and then, because time off had accrued, she was able to have extra leave.

  This particular time, however, she viewed the forthcoming four days with anything but enthusiasm. She knew she had to fill in the hours with activity, otherwise her mind would be filled with thoughts of Giles Elliott. That wretched man, she thought angrily, but she was angry with herself, not him.

  After she had changed out of her uniform and had a coffee, she suddenly made up her mind on the spur of the moment to drive back down to Devon to see her mother. Better ring her, I suppose, she thought as she flung a few things into a suitcase, knowing Mrs. Jones would appreciate some advance notice.

  Her mother was delighted, if a little surprised, at the unexpected prospect of having her daughter home for four days. “It will be lovely to have you to myself, dear,” she said. “We can have a good long chat, like we used to in the old days.” She paused a moment. “There’s nothing wrong, is there, dear?”

  “No, of course not,” answered Megan brightly. “I don’t come often enough. I’m just making the most of an unexpected opportunity. Is it all right if I drive down tonight?” she added.

  “Tonight!” Her mother was surprised. “Well, all right, dear, if that’s what you want to do. I’ll have supper waiting for you and we’ll have it in the kitchen together in front of the old wood stove. I lit it today for a change; I must have had a premonition that you were coming!”

  Megan’s face brightened at the thought of sitting in the big old kitchen in front of the stove. She had always done that as a child, only then everything had seemed so cosy and secure. No disturbing thoughts of a tall dark man to trouble her serenity in those far-off days.

  The journey down was quicker than Megan had expected. The roads were almost completely traffic free and it seemed no time at all before she was sitting with her mother and sipping home-made broth in front of the warm stove.

  Megan wriggled her toes comfortably towards the heat. “This is lovely,” she said. “Sitting here like this makes me think I must be mad existing
in that wretched little room at the hospital. I must do something about moving out.”

  “Where will you move to?” asked her mother practically.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll try to get a small mortgage on something when this house is paid for—that’s not long now.”

  Her mother snorted. “The prices they ask these days for houses is ridiculous. All you would be able to afford would be a little tiny box on an estate, and somehow I don’t think you’d like that.”

  “At least I’d have a little more room,” protested Megan.

  “A little, but not much,” said her mother decisively, and Megan knew she was right. She would never be able to afford anything spacious. “Anyway,” Mrs. Jones continued, “Why buy something yourself? You will probably get married one day and you can pool some of your money with your husband and buy a better house.”

  Megan sighed and pushed her empty plate away on the scrubbed wood of the kitchen table. Then she stretched slowly and luxuriously in the warmth from the stove. “Mum,” she said sleepily, “if I wait until I get married, I’ll still be living in that hospital room when I’m ninety.”

  “No you won’t,” said her mother, ever practical. “You’ll have to retire at sixty!”

  Megan laughed and reached over and patted her affectionately on the knee. “I’ll be living in some retired nurses’ home then,” she said, “in an equally depressing little room.”

  “Oh, Megan,” said her mother crossly, “you are silly! Of course you’ll get married.”

  “Nobody has asked me yet,” pointed out Megan, “and you do need a man in the picture somewhere; it’s essential, you know.”

  “There is one in the picture already,” said her mother. “Only you don’t seem to be doing much to encourage him.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Megan, looking at her, her large, expressive brown eyes startled.