From Single Mum to Lady (8 page)

Patrick looked at her perceptively, her lovely eyes bright with tears, aware of the emotion in her voice and the fact that Jandy had been hiding a lot of stress behind her bright manner.

‘If you want to look around it this weekend, I could arrange to get the key—if it suits you, it’s yours!’

Jandy heaved a huge sigh. ‘I’m so grateful to you.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I really thought I’d never get anywhere suitable so quickly—I imagined us camping out on the street!’

Patrick smiled, lowering his glance to give her time to compose herself. ‘Let’s hope it fits the bill, then,’ he said.

‘Does it belong to a friend of yours?’ Jandy asked.

Patrick hesitated briefly then said, ‘It’s owned by a relative and I know he’s very keen to have it occupied. I’ll give you the directions and meet you there at about ten-thirty on Saturday morning.’

Jandy’s heart gave a leap of pleasure and relief that her worries about getting some accommodation might be solved, and also that in a few days she would be seeing Patrick outside the confines of the hospital…

‘That would be great, although I’ll probably have to bring Abigail with me, if that’s OK.’

‘Then I’ll bring Livy.’ He smiled. ‘They can give us their opinion of the place and they can meet each other!’ He pushed a large chocolate biscuit towards her. ‘Here—it’s not much, but it might keep you going till lunchtime.’

‘Thanks. I can’t resist it, I’m afraid, although I am trying to cut out chocolate,’ she remarked, unwrapping it and biting into it hungrily.

Blue eyes flicked over her. ‘I don’t know why,’ he murmured. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you had any weight issues.’

Jandy laughed. ‘You should see me with nothing on—I’m awfully…’ She stopped, suddenly realising what she’d said, and blushed, the thought of him seeing her stark naked a little too intimate to contemplate.

Patrick raised his brows and his eyes twinkled. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing awful about you, but if you like I’ll give you a medical assessment…’

‘I don’t think so!’

‘Well, the offer’s there—only too pleased to give you my professional opinion!’ He grinned, leaning back in his chair looking at her with amusement, and their eyes locked, an unmistakeable spark of attraction and intimacy flickering between them: Jandy dropped her eyes and inspected a split nail rather thoroughly and tried to smother a giggle.

There was a second’s silence, Patrick’s gaze roving over her, then he said hesitantly, ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t ask this, but you mentioned that you were a single parent but not a widow…does that mean you and your husband are divorced?’

Jandy’s expression changed and he put up his hand in apology. ‘I’m sorry—please don’t answer that. It’s nothing to do with me.’

She stared at the table and folded the biscuit wrapper into a precise square. Was she ready to reveal her sad little story to someone she’d only known for a short time? It made her seem so gullible, so easily deceived—and incredibly stupid to have become pregnant, believing that Terry would have been as thrilled as she was to have their baby. But it was a long time ago now and quite a few people knew her background anyway, so why shouldn’t Patrick be told?

She gave a little shrug and said at last, ‘It’s not a secret, Patrick. I was a naïve fool and fell for someone who was already married with a family—although I didn’t realise that at the time.’

Patrick looked at her in horror. ‘How did you find out?’

‘When I discovered I was pregnant and told him, thinking he’d be delighted as he’d often told me how fond of children he was, he took fright and blurted out the truth.’ Jandy’s eyes narrowed, and she unconsciously twisted her hands together. ‘I can remember his precise words actually. He said, “You idiot! I can’t possibly have a child. I realised you were getting too sweet on me recently.’”

Patrick shook his head. ‘He sounds unbelievable!’

‘Ah—but listen to the punchline he gave,’ Jandy added succinctly. “‘I’ve already got a wife and two daughters, which is quite enough to cope with!” Shortly after that he disappeared into the blue yonder, leaving me to cope alone.’

‘What an idiot!’ Patrick’s voice was rough with disgust.

Jandy shrugged and said firmly, ‘Actually, it taught me a lesson—never fall in love with someone who’s carrying a lot of baggage. There won’t be room in his life for him to concentrate on anyone else. I suspected Terry had other things in his life but I didn’t realise that it was a ready-grown family!’

An unreadable expression suddenly crossed Patrick’s face and he nodded slowly. ‘You’re right. You couldn’t risk going through that again—you must have been through hell.’

‘I’m over it now. Terry’s history as far as I’m concerned, and although I wish he was around for Abigail sometimes, I think we’re really better off without him.’

‘So he’s never contributed anything towards Abigail’s upbringing?’ asked Patrick softly.

Jandy looked at him levelly. ‘I don’t want anything from that man. He lied to me for the six months we went out with each other, convincing me that he loved me and wanted a future with me.’ She added semijokingly but with a touch of sadness, ‘I was totally naïve, but I could never go through the roller-coaster of emotions again that I went through with Terry—it took too long to recover!’

And I wonder if she’s really recovered now, thought Patrick, sipping the remains of his coffee and watching her face over the rim of his cup. There was a wistful expression in her eyes. The wound might have healed, but it had left a scar that would probably affect her for many years. And couldn’t that scar be reopened if she was hurt again by someone who was wary of committing wholeheartedly to a relationship, someone who already had plenty of responsibilities…someone like him, for instance? Didn’t he fit into that category?

‘I guess this happened in Manchester, then. And when you had Abigail, you came back here?’ he said quietly.

Jandy nodded. ‘I met Terry in Manchester, but he disappeared after I turned down his suggestion to have an abortion. I’ve never seen or heard from him since.’

‘He sounds charming,’ remarked Patrick with heavy irony.

‘I went to stay with my mother who lives in Scotland, and had the baby there.’ She laughed. ‘Mum was wonderful, but she has her own life—namely living with a garage mechanic who’s half her age! I realised after a few weeks that having a daughter and a grandchild living with you in a tiny house doesn’t fit into the love-nest scenario!’

‘So you moved back here?’ Patrick murmured.

‘Yes, I came back here with Abigail and set up home with my sister. She’s a tower of strength and we get on very well. And then I went back to nursing. It’s a busy life, but Abigail is secure and happy—and, of course, she’s my priority. It’s important that she has stability in her life—a proper home, not a stopgap until I can get something permanent.’

Patrick nodded. ‘You must have been having a few sleepless nights,’ he murmured.

He leant back in his chair and looked at Jandy perceptively—the determined tilt of her chin, the steady look of purpose in her eyes. He admired the way that she had managed to get her life on an even keel again despite all her difficulties—his offer of the house would be a godsend to her. But he hadn’t realised the ghastly story behind the fact that she was a single parent. How cruel would it be to risk upsetting her little boat and drawing her into his complicated life? If she took the house they would be bound more closely together—and would that be wise?

‘And what made you take up nursing?’ he enquired lightly, changing the subject.

Jandy smiled. ‘Someone gave me a nurse’s outfit when I was little, and somehow the idea of becoming a real nurse got a hold of me. I must have been mad—it’s hard to bring up a child on my salary!’

‘But you enjoy your work and your sister helps you with your little girl?’

‘Yes—I’m very lucky, and Abby adores Lydia. And you?’ she asked. ‘Was your father a doctor? That often seems to inspire people to take up medicine.’

‘No. My father is…well, he’s a farmer really and loves the land. I think he’d have liked me to have taken it up too, but my brother and I were impatient to do our own thing.’

‘I heard you say you were living with your father?’

‘For the time being,’ Patrick replied lightly. ‘My little girl loves living in the house.’

‘And whereabouts…?’

‘Oh, not too far away—reasonably convenient.’

There was something about his voice—a studied vagueness—as if he had suddenly pulled the shutters down about any more information on his personal life, and Jandy flicked a look of slight surprise at him. She was perceptive enough to realise that there’d been a slight shift in his attitude towards her—as if he’d stepped back a bit. She felt slightly hurt, as he’d asked her about her past and she’d been frank with him. It seemed he was less eager to confide in her and she’d obviously taken too much for granted. She took the hint and stood up quickly.

‘I’ll look forward to seeing the house on Saturday, then,’ she said briskly. ‘And thanks for the coffee and rescuing me from those yobs. I’d better get back or Karen won’t be too pleased.’

Patrick toyed with his coffee spoon, watching Jandy go out of the canteen, the light catching her burnished hair, now done up in a neat coil at the back of her head. He’d only known her a week or two, and yet he was beginning to feel he’d known her for many months. They had much in common, and perhaps they could have helped each other heal the wounds they had from the past—but he wasn’t ready to commit to anyone yet.

He sighed heavily. If he didn’t put the brakes on things, his relationship with Jandy might turn into a rerun of what had happened in London in the months after Rachel had died.

Gazing unseeingly across the table, the ghastly loneliness of that time came flooding back to him, and how easily he’d hurtled into a relationship with someone he’d known only briefly. He’d been vulnerable, hating the thought of being alone, feeling deeply guilty that he had caused his wife’s death. Tara had been a shoulder to cry on, deeply sympathetic, limpet-like in her determination not to leave him alone. By the time he had realised he was only desirable to her because of his family background, and that she had absolutely no interest in his little daughter, indeed was irritated by her, it had been almost too late to extricate himself from the engagement he’d been coerced into.

He didn’t think that Jandy was the type of girl to be impressed because of who he was—it might even be the reverse. But the fact remained that they were two people with unhappy pasts and he couldn’t bear to make another mistake like that, or saddle someone like Jandy with his problems. Was it fair of him to get too close to someone who had been hurt so much already?

He pushed his fingers through his hair distractedly. Why the hell had he mentioned the empty house to Jandy? But now he couldn’t in all conscience renege on his offer. He’d promised her she could have the place if she liked it and, besides, now he realised how desperate she was for somewhere reasonable to live. For the sake of her child, he had to keep the offer open—but for the sake of Jandy and himself, he had to stand back a little and not do anything that might bring them into close contact outside the hospital.

Then the beeper in his pocket went off and he stood up and walked briskly back to A and E, trying to push his frustration to the back of his mind.

* * *

Saturday morning at last! Jandy helped Abigail put on her little jeans and sweater and brushed her daughter’s hair briskly.

‘Ow! Stop it, Mummy—I don’t need my hair brushed. Ow!’

‘Nearly done! There—you look beautiful! We’re going to meet another little girl this morning so you want to look good, don’t you?’

Abigail looked at her mother witheringly. ‘No, I don’t! Who is she anyway?’

‘I work with her daddy and we’re going to look around a house he knows that’s for rent—it might be OK for us. It’s in the country.’

Abigail perked up. ‘I like the country. We could have horses and dogs and cats and—’

‘Whoa!’ Jandy laughed. ‘Wherever we live we can’t have animals—we’re all out too much. And, of course, the house may not suit us, or it may be too expensive. We’ll see.’

It had been a busy week as usual, but every so often in the middle of dressing a wound or calming a screaming child, the thought of her meeting Patrick to see the cottage would flash into her mind and her pulse would bound into excitement. How sad it was that in her dull life meeting someone to look at a house seemed exhilarating!

They got into the car and she drove off towards the cottage.

There was the smell of damp leaves and earth newly turned after the harvest as they got out of the car in the little lane outside the cottage. A little tremor of pleasure darted through Jandy as she gazed at the building. It was quaint, with leaded-paned windows and old tree trunks holding up the roof of the little porch; an old rose twined its way randomly round the front door, a few dying blooms still there. She could easily imagine herself living here, surrounded by fields and the view of the soft Derbyshire hills.

She was surprised to see that the cottage was actually an old gatehouse at the back entrance of an estate, although the drive had long been blocked off and the property stood in its own garden. It was just possible to see a large and imposing mansion through the woods that grew beyond the garden, mullioned windows glittering in the sun. The little village was just down the road, and although it was about six miles from Delford, it would be possible to get to work on time if she got up early. There was even a little village school that Abigail could attend when she was old enough. She turned to Abigail, who was standing at the gate of the field watching the sheep grazing there.

‘Come on, poppet, let’s go into the garden and wait for Patrick there. He should be here in a minute.’

Jandy looked around with pleasure. So far, so good. There was a neat little garden with room enough to play but not so huge that she’d have to spend every weekend gardening. She turned round as she heard a car stopping outside the gate and Patrick and his daughter arrived. If Tilly could see him now, she’d probably be speechless, reflected Jandy as she watched him walk towards her. Casual suited Patrick—dark cords and a thick cream Arran sweater with an old scarf round his neck made him look rugged and—no getting away from it—very sexy!