‘DAD, WHAT DO you mean, Christmas is off?’ Hannah asked.
‘We’re not going to Rachel’s any more.’
‘Is she all right?’
Guilt flooded through Tim. Of course his eldest daughter’s first thought would be of an accident or something, after what had happened to Mandy. ‘It’s not that. It’s just not appropriate any more.’
‘Why not? I thought you were dating her?’
Tim was struggling to find the right words to explain when Hannah sighed. ‘Oh, Dad. What went wrong?’
‘Me,’ he said.
‘Nope. Not getting it.’
He sighed. ‘You know what I’m like. I’m a workaholic. That’s why I wasn’t there for your mum. And I wasn’t there for you, when you had that scare and you needed me—I was repeating the same old mistakes.’
‘You weren’t at work,’ Hannah pointed out. ‘You were with Rachel.’
‘And I wasn’t concentrating on my family, the way I should be.’
‘Dad, that’s crazy. And everything was all right. And you came as soon as you got my message.’
‘Which was later than I should’ve been,’ he said stubbornly.
‘So you’re the one who ended it?’
‘Yes.’
There was silence the other end, and then another sigh. ‘OK, Dad. I’ll let Soph know for you.’
He knew that she’d let him off the hook and it was way more than he deserved. ‘Thanks, love.’
‘I’ve got to go now,’ Hannah said.
‘All right. I’ll call you later in the week.’
An hour later, Tim was scrubbing the kitchen clean—not that he used it much, apart from reheating things in the microwave, but the physical activity was giving him something to think about other than how miserable he was and how much he missed Rachel—when the doorbell rang.
He opened the door to find both his daughters standing on the doorstep; Sophie was holding a box of muffins.
‘This is an intervention,’ she said. ‘Because Hannah and I can’t just stand aside and watch you throw away something so good.’
Tim was too shocked to protest. The next thing he knew, he was seated at the table with a mug of coffee and a blueberry muffin in front of him.
‘We knew you’ve been miserable all week,’ Sophie said, ‘but we couldn’t work out what was wrong—if you were stressed about work or something—because you always close off and bury yourself in work.’
‘It drives us potty,’ Hannah said, ‘but it’s who you are, and we’ve learned to deal with it. Well, up to a point. But I told Soph what you told me about splitting up with Rachel.’
‘Honestly, Dad. Right now it feels as if you’re the teenager and we’re the parents,’ Sophie said. ‘You’re the head of a department at a busy hospital. We know you’re clever and we know you save lives every day. So how can you be so utterly hopeless?’
He stared at her, taken aback. ‘Hopeless?’
‘Rachel’s lovely. She’s perfect for you. Since Mum died, you’ve been lost and lonely and we’ve been at our wits’ end trying to work out how we can help you,’ Hannah said. ‘And then Rachel came into your life, and you started to smile again. It meant we had our dad back. We were even going to have our first proper Christmas for three years.’ She rubbed her bump. ‘What could be my baby’s first Christmas. A new start. And now you’ve wrecked it.’
‘And neither of us can understand why. Rachel’s not Mum, and she’s not trying to be Mum. She’s herself,’ Sophie said. ‘She’s lovely. So tell me why you dumped her, because what Han said made no sense at all. I’m convinced it’s preggy brain making her muddle her words.’
‘I’m convinced it’s preggy brain, too,’ Hannah said, ‘because what Dad said makes no sense.’
‘I let your mum down. I wasn’t there enough. I’ve put my work before my family, in the past—and I’ve just replaced work with Rachel. I’m making the same mistakes.’
‘That,’ Sophie said, ‘is a really feeble excuse, Dad. Yes, you’re a workaholic, but that’s only part of who you are. We know it’s because Granddad was frankly a rubbish parent; he always put you down when he should’ve been proud of you.’
Hannah gave a wry laugh. ‘When I decided to do my PGCE, Granddad told me that English teachers were ten a penny and I ought to do a conversion course and be a lawyer instead, and I gave him a lecture on psychology and how rubbish he was. He sulked for months.’
Tim blinked. ‘Oh, my God. He said something that awful to you? I had no idea.’
‘It’s OK. I said I hope he’d never been that rude to my mum, who was one of the wisest people I know and who did a job that was every bit as important as his, even if she didn’t earn as much as he did. That I planned to follow in her footsteps and be a brilliant teacher who’d use poetry and Shakespeare to inspire kids to be the best they could be. And that, actually, money isn’t the only measure of a job’s value,’ Hannah said. ‘Then he said the nonsense about only saying it so I’d fight back to prove him wrong and get good grades.’
Tim went very still. ‘He did that to me.’
‘I know. I told Mum about it, and that’s when she told me what he’d said to you, and that he’d always made you feel you were a disappointment to him.’
‘Just so we’re very clear on this,’ Tim said, ‘I’m hugely proud of both of you, and so was your mum. We wanted you to do what you wanted, not what we thought you ought to do.’
‘And we appreciate that,’ Sophie said.
‘I’m just so sorry he...’ Tim blew out a breath. ‘If I’d known, I would’ve read him the Riot Act.’
‘Way ahead of you, Dad. When he said it, I told him that putting people down all the time was the quickest way to make them feel crap about themselves rather than this “fighting back to prove him wrong” nonsense, and if he ever did it to Soph then I’d know about it and I’d scalp him. With a blunt instrument and lots of salt,’ Hannah said.
Tim marvelled at his daughter’s bravery at facing down her grandfather’s bullying.
‘When Mum told us what he’d done to you, Han went round to see him with his favourite cake to lull him into calmness. Then she told him you were a brilliant doctor who deserved much, much better from him, and she battered him with Shakespeare,’ Sophie said, laughing. ‘She followed it up with a poem every single day until he admitted he was in the wrong and you’d made the right career choice.’ She grinned. ‘You know, Han, maybe you need to do that to Dad.’
‘There’s no need to batter me with Shakespeare. I apologise when I’m in the wrong,’ Tim said. ‘I still can’t get over the fact you tackled your granddad, Han.’
‘He needed to be put straight,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s not the way to treat people. Though,’ she admitted, ‘it’s probably easier to stand up for yourself if you don’t have to live with that person and feel their disapproval every second of every day.’
‘You and Mum always believed in us,’ Sophie said. ‘You’ve always made us feel as if we could do anything we wanted—and we’re so glad you weren’t like Granddad. I think that would’ve turned us into workaholics, too.’
‘Though you still repeat your mistakes, Dad. You’re as stubborn as Granddad, in your way,’ Hannah said. ‘Yes, you used to fight with Mum about your ridiculous working hours. But she loved you anyway, because she understood what drove you and how you wanted to care for people. That you wanted to save people so they wouldn’t miss their grandmothers as much as you did.’
‘Mum wouldn’t have had you any other way, Dad,’ Sophie said. ‘Think about it. She had a vocational job, too, and she understood how important your job was to you.’
‘And Rachel will understand even more, because she does the same job as you. Her daughters will know how much she loves them, just as we know how much you love us,’ Hannah said. ‘But they’ll also know that emergency doctors are really, really driven and they need to save people. It just goes with the territory.’
‘Don’t feel you’re being disloyal to Mum by getting serious with Rachel,’ Sophie added. ‘Mum wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone for the rest of your life. She would’ve wanted you to find someone who loved you for who you are and wouldn’t want to change you. Someone who’d support you and get on with us and be part of all our lives, while acknowledging how important Mum was to us—and that’s exactly what Rachel does.’
‘I’m glad you were out with her instead of shutting yourself away on your own. It’s about time you lightened up and got on with enjoying life. Mum would’ve scalped you for the way you’ve been since she died,’ Hannah said.
‘But I wasn’t there when you called me,’ Tim reminded her.
‘Your phone was on silent. It happens,’ Sophie said. ‘You know what I think?’
He knew she was going to tell him anyway and steeled himself. Sophie and Hannah had inherited their mother’s straightforwardness.
‘It’s an excuse because you’re scared.’ Sophie looked at him. ‘Dad, I love you, and this isn’t a nice thing to say, and I’m only telling you this so bluntly because being subtle doesn’t work with you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I think you’re scared that if you get close to someone, you might lose her, the way you lost Mum. So you dumped her rather than risk losing her.’
Tim thought about it. Was Sophie right?
‘Soph’s right. Dad, there’s always a risk. It’s better to let people in than to keep them at a distance,’ Hannah said gently. ‘Be honest about your worries. I panic that I won’t get the baby to term. Jamal’s terrified that I’m going to get a pulmonary embolism after I’ve had the baby and die. There’s always a risk with everything you do, but you have to put it in perspective. Live your best life, the way Mum did.’
It was as if his daughters had thrown a bucket of cold water over him.
And, once the shock had passed, he could see clearly again. He’d refused to let himself see it, but his girls were absolutely right.
‘I’ve screwed up,’ Tim said. ‘Big time. Rachel’s ex was a selfish jerk who let her down—and I’m no better.’
‘Of course you’re better than that,’ Sophie said.
‘Just call her and tell her you screwed up,’ Hannah said.
‘How?’ Tim asked.
‘If you’re honest with her, tell her how you feel and why you said whatever you did, she’ll understand. It sounds as if you hurt her, but you can fix that. It might take time and it’ll definitely take effort—but she’s worth it. You’re worth it. Now, eat your muffin and think about it,’ Sophie said.
Hannah nudged her sister. ‘Are you sure you want to stay as a marketing tycoon, Soph? You’d be an awesome teacher. All the Year Ten boys would be so terrified of you that they’d actually do their homework.’
‘You seriously think I want to spend my working day in a room that smells of feet, farts and way too much body spray?’ Sophie teased back. ‘No chance. I want all the glamour of fancy coffee and posh biscuits, courtesy of grateful clients.’
Tim tuned out his daughters for a moment.
Be honest with Rachel. Tell her why he really dumped her. Admit that he was scared of failing her or losing her and hadn’t wanted to take the risk.
She’d probably find a solution, with that calm common sense of hers. But he didn’t want calm common sense. He wanted her to love him, the way he was pretty sure he loved her. Though how could he ask that of her?
‘Dad? Earth to Dad,’ Sophie said.
‘Sorry. I zoned out for a second,’ he said. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said, I hope you’re going to talk to her. Make it right,’ she said. ‘We’re going, now. So call her. And then, when you’ve sorted it out, tell us.’
After he’d waved them off at the front door, he called Rachel. He was more than prepared for her to let it go through to voicemail and ignore him, but she picked up. ‘Tim.’
‘Rachel.’ And then he went all tongue-tied. For pity’s sake. He saved lives every single day. That meant communicating well with your team. Why couldn’t he communicate with Rachel now?
‘What do you want?’ she asked, after an awkward silence.
‘To see you. To talk,’ he said. To apologise. The words stuck in his throat like sand.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.’
‘But—’
‘Sorry, Tim. You were right. It’s not going to work between us. We’re much better off sticking to being just colleagues.’ Her voice was totally expressionless. She was freezing him out. ‘I’ll see you at work.’
She didn’t even give him the chance to say goodbye before she ended the call.
Oh, hell.
What was he going to do?
If she wasn’t even going to talk to him, how on earth could he tell her that he was sorry, and he’d made a huge, huge mistake?
Wanting to clear his head, he walked to the parade of shops round the corner and bought some flowers, then headed for the cemetery. He knelt in front of Mandy’s grave, taking out the faded flowers from the previous week, wiping down all the surfaces and then replenishing the water in the vase and putting the new stems in place.
‘Mand, it’s all going to hell without you,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d found someone I could maybe be happy with. Not replace you—I could never replace you—but someone I can share my life with.’ He blew out a breath. ‘Except I was stupid. I got scared that I’d mess it all up or I’d lose her—not that I even admitted that to myself—and I pushed her away. I was hopeless with you, neglecting you and the girls for work, and I didn’t want to make all the same mistakes over again. Especially because her ex was totally selfish. She deserves better than that. You deserved better.’ He sighed. ‘I love you, I always will, and she understood that. And I... I love her, too.’
Maybe it was his imagination, but he had the impression of warmth around him, as if he were being hugged, and he could smell the gardenia perfume he’d always associated with Mandy. And he could almost hear her voice saying, Your heart expands to make room for love. I want you to be happy. Talk to her. Open up.
And she was right. He needed to talk to her; his mistake had been trying to phone Rachel. Even a video call wasn’t good enough. This was something he needed to do face to face, so she could look into his eyes and see that he was completely sincere about everything.
Though, before he tried to arrange a meeting, Tim knew he needed to work out exactly what he wanted to say.
‘Sometimes it’s useful when our parents are a bit less clued up on social media,’ Sophie said. ‘Rachel’s friends list is open rather than hidden. All we need to do is find her daughters and get in touch with them.’
‘Meg and Saskia, Dad said they were called,’ Hannah said.
‘Let me search the list. Yep, there’s a Meg and a Saskia. They have a different surname—but Rachel’s divorced, so that figures,’ Sophie said. ‘Righty. I’ll send a direct message to both of them and see which one comes back first.’
Hello! We haven’t met yet but our dad Tim was seeing your very lovely mum. Except he’s done something stupid—he broke up with her because he thought it would be best for her.
She added an eye-roll emoji.
Which is EXTREMELY stupid of him because they’re good for each other. Dad’s eating himself up with guilt, and Rachel won’t speak to him so he can’t explain why he’s made such a mess of things. Can we do a joint intervention to stop them ruining what we think would be a good thing for both of them? Cheers, Sophie and Hannah.
She showed the message to her sister. ‘Anything you’d change?’
‘Nope. It’s perfect,’ Meg said. ‘Send it.’
Within half an hour, Meg had messaged Sophie back.
Your dad’s lovely, too. Agreed we need to act. We’ll work on Mum and get her to talk to him. Cheers, Meg and Saskia.
‘So now all we have to do is hope he doesn’t mess it up,’ Sophie said.
Rachel’s phone pinged to signal an incoming text. Meg.
Got a moment for a chat?
The years of practice she’d had in pretending that nothing was wrong would come in useful now. Even though she was miserable, she’d make sure she sounded smiley for her daughters. She texted back.
Sure.
The phone rang immediately with a group video call from her daughters.
‘Is everything OK?’ Rachel asked.
‘No,’ Saskia said. ‘When were you going to tell us that Christmas—or rather Boxing Day—was cancelled?’
‘How did you know? Did Tim tell you?’ She frowned. But how could he have done? She hadn’t given him her daughters’ numbers.
‘No. His daughters got in touch with us,’ Meg said. ‘They found us in your social media account friends’ list and sent us a message.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What happened, Mum?’ Saskia asked.
‘He wasn’t ready, and he wanted to call it a day. It’s fine.’ Rachel turned up the wattage on her smile in the hope of convincing her daughters that it really was fine. ‘We can be civilised colleagues at work.’
‘He made a mistake, breaking up with you, Mum,’ Meg said. ‘And he didn’t do it for the reason you said, because he wasn’t ready. It was because—oh, you need to talk to him about it.’ She sighed. ‘Mum, don’t assume he’s going to be like Dad. They’re nothing alike. Dad never felt guilty when he’d had yet another affair.’
Rachel flinched. So much for thinking that she’d protected their girls.
‘Whereas Tim’s eating himself up with guilt,’ Meg finished.
‘Guilt about what?’
‘You need to talk to him, Mum. For both your sakes,’ Saskia said.
Almost on cue, her phone pinged.
‘Who was that text from?’ Meg asked.
‘Tim.’
‘What does he say?’ Saskia asked.
‘He wants to talk and wants to know when’s a good time for him to call round.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Does this have anything to do with you?’
‘Probably Hannah and Sophie,’ Meg said. ‘We’re staging a two-part intervention. Daughters to parents.’
‘We’re hanging up now, Mum,’ Saskia said. ‘Call him. Then let us know how things go.’
Before Rachel had a chance to protest, the screen went black. Followed immediately by a text message from Meg.
CALL HIM NOW!!!!!!
Call Tim. Talk to him. But what was there to say? He’d walked away from her—just as her ex had, and just as her father had.
Then again, if she didn’t talk to him, she knew Meg and Saskia would nag until she did.
She texted him back.
I’m free now.
He texted back.
Be with you in about half an hour.
Should he take flowers? Chocolates? Wine? Tim thought as he booked a taxi.
No. None of it was enough.
What he needed to give Rachel was something more important. Total honesty.
He rehearsed the words in his head all the way from Muswell Hill to Hampstead; but the second he’d paid the taxi fare and pressed her doorbell, they all vanished. Why the hell hadn’t he been sensible and written them down?
Rachel opened the door, unsmiling. ‘Tim.’
‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, Rachel,’ he said quietly.
‘Come in.’ She stood aside. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’ Because at least then he could have something to do with his hands.
This was crazy. In his thirty-plus years as a doctor, he’d kept a cool head; he’d performed CPR countless times, dealt with horrific fractures and trauma injuries, done emergency tracheotomies to secure airways, all the while reassuring his patients and his team. Yet, at the idea of talking about emotional things, opening up to Rachel and telling her what was in his heart, he was terrified and didn’t even know where to start.
He took off his shoes, hung his coat on the bentwood stand in the hallway, and followed her to the kitchen. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘It’s fine.’ She gestured to the table. ‘Take a seat.’
He sat at her kitchen table, tapping the ends of his fingers against each other, while she made coffee. Maybe he should try small talk. Except he didn’t know what to say.
She placed a mug in front of him and sat opposite him.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For the coffee. And for agreeing to see me.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’d prepared a speech. But I should’ve written it down, because all the words have just vanished out of my head.’ He spread his hands. ‘I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry I hurt you. What I said to you... I was in panic mode. I wish I could take it all back.’
‘You said,’ she reminded him, ‘that you couldn’t be with me. “It’s not you, it’s me.”’
He winced as she made the exaggerated quote marks with her fingers, but he knew he deserved it.
‘You said you couldn’t be with me any more. That you needed to concentrate on your girls.’ Her face tightened. ‘I’ve been thinking about this ever since. I think what you really meant was that I wasn’t enough for you. Just as I wasn’t enough for my dad, and just as I wasn’t enough for Steve.’
‘What? No! It absolutely wasn’t that.’ He stared at her, horrified. ‘Is that really what you thought?’
‘What other reason could there be?’ she asked tightly.
‘You’re enough for me. Of course you’re enough for me. I love you.’ And then he stared at her, aghast at what he’d just blurted out.
‘You love me,’ she said drily. ‘And that’s why you dumped me.’
He raked his hand through his hair. ‘I know it doesn’t sound as if it makes any sense.’
‘It doesn’t just sound it. It doesn’t make sense at all,’ she said.
‘It’s all a mess,’ he said. ‘My job came first, most of the time, and I know I wasn’t there for Mandy and the girls as much as I should’ve been. Worst of all, I wasn’t there at the end.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I know I couldn’t have saved my wife. Nobody could’ve saved her, not with the brain injury caused when she hit her head. But I should have been right there by her side in the ambulance, holding her hand on the way to hospital and telling her I loved her when she died. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.’
‘You were saving someone’s life at the time, weren’t you?’ she reminded him.
‘A seventy-year-old woman with a heart attack. Just like my gran. The same age Gran was when she died. She even looked like Gran. I needed to be sure I’d saved her. I thought that dinner could wait, that nobody would mind me being a bit late—that Mandy would be there, the way she’d always been.’ He turned the mug round in his hands. ‘Work was always a bit of a bone of contention between Mandy and me. I work ridiculous hours. I always have. It started as a way of proving to myself that I was going to be a really good doctor, that I’d be there for my patients and make a proper difference.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Partly it was because I wanted to save other families from what we went through, losing Gran. And partly...’ He shook his head. ‘I told you Dad was disappointed I didn’t follow him into law. Actually, he was more than disappointed. He said I’d made a huge mistake and one day I would come crawling back to him and admit he was right.’
‘That,’ Rachel said, ‘is utter rubbish. Did he ever admit he was wrong?’
Tim gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Not quite. After I made consultant, he said that my being a doctor was his idea all along and what he’d said was his way of pushing me. In his view, if he told me I was useless and I’d never be able to do it, then I’d fight back to prove him wrong and I’d excel.’
Her eyes widened. ‘That sounds a bit “sorry, not sorry” to me.’
‘That’s what I thought, too.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I can see where he was coming from—but it just made me angry all the time. I’d wanted him to support me instead of sniping. And I swore I’d never be like that to my kids, trying to push them into what I wanted them to do instead of helping them live their own dreams.’ He looked away. ‘I had no idea at the time, but he did exactly the same thing to Hannah. He told her teachers were ten a penny and she should do a conversion course and be a lawyer. Except she faced him down where I didn’t. She’s braver than I am.’
‘People react in different ways,’ Rachel said. ‘It’s what makes us human, not robots.’
‘But I repeat my mistakes,’ he said. ‘I nearly wasn’t there for Hannah when she had that scare with the baby, and my phone was on silent. She couldn’t get hold of me when she needed me.’ He shook his head. ‘I panicked. I told myself I was letting my family down again—except this time the reason I wasn’t there wasn’t work, it was because I was concentrating on myself. Because I was with you. And I know how unfair that is.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘You’re using me as an excuse.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s...’ He swallowed hard. If he told her his fears, then maybe she’d understand and give him a chance to make things right between them. ‘I haven’t even been honest with myself,’ he said. ‘Deep down, I’m scared to take a risk again. What if I fell in love with someone and lost her, the way I lost Mandy?’
‘There aren’t any guarantees,’ she said. ‘All you can do is make the most of what you have. Because, if you shut yourself off, all you have is loneliness—and that means you’ve lost anyway.’
‘When I met you, I realised you’d had a rough time, but you were brave about it.’
‘Was I? I seem to remember telling you I didn’t have a clue about how to pick myself up and start all over again.’
‘But you didn’t wallow, the way I have. You made things the best you could for your daughters. And you just got on with your life.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I’m making a mess of this, now. I’m not great with emotional stuff. I...didn’t expect to feel the way I do about you, so quickly. I told myself we’d be friends, and that’s honestly what I intended to happen.’ He met her gaze. ‘Except, the more I got to know you, the more I liked you. It felt as if all the clouds were melting away and the sun was coming back out. I was happier than I’d been in years.’
‘That’s how I felt, too,’ she said. ‘Then I realised how stupid I’d been. I’d let you close and trusted you—and then you backed off. And it was obvious I wasn’t enough for you.’
‘You are enough for me,’ he said. ‘You’re everything I want, Rachel. You’re kind and you’re funny and you’re clever. You make my heart feel as if it’s doing somersaults when you smile. Even if I’m having a bad day at work, stuck with the suits, I think about seeing you and it makes all the clouds go away.’
This was making even less and less sense, Rachel thought. If he felt like that about her, why had he dumped her? ‘So why did you back away?’ she asked.
‘Because I panicked,’ he said. ‘I know we do the same job, and you get where I’m coming from about wanting to save people, because it’s the same for you. But you’ve already been married to someone who didn’t put you first. How can I ask you to be with me, when I know I always put my job first? I can’t ask you to make that kind of sacrifice.’ He shook his head. ‘I never meant to hurt you, Rachel. But there wasn’t a choice. If I stayed with you, I’d end up hurting you by not putting you first. If I ended it between us, I’d hurt you—but not as much as if you started to rely on me and then I let you down.’
‘That’s pretty twisted logic,’ she said. ‘But the point is that you’re the one who made the choice, Tim. You didn’t discuss it with me or try to find out how I felt about the situation. Right now it feels as if you used me as an excuse for your fears, instead of giving me a say in my own future. Yes, you’re right. I spent nearly a quarter of a century with a man who started off as Prince Charming and swept me off my feet, and then became completely self-centred. I would never have married Steve if I’d realised I was marrying a man like my dad, the sort who’d always put himself first and didn’t bother with his kids. I wanted someone who’d love me for who I was, who’d make a family with me, who’d love my mum and love our future kids. And, yes, I made the choice to stay with him and put up with the things that made me unhappy. Maybe that was the wrong decision. But now I’m in a place where I’m comfortable making my own choices.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And I don’t want to be with someone who uses me as an excuse not to face up to his own fears.’
‘That’s fair.’ He looked at her. ‘And I don’t want to use you as an excuse. I want to face up to those fears. And I’ll do it, Rachel. I won’t be able to make them go away overnight, but I’ll make the effort. Because I want you. I want to be with you.’
‘But how do I know I’m enough for you, when I wasn’t enough for Steve or my dad?’ she asked. ‘How do I know I can trust you?’
‘You don’t,’ he said. ‘That’s fear talking. Something you need to face and make go away, just like I need to face my fear that I’ll let you down. And I think that’s something we can’t do on our own. We need someone else’s perspective to make us see things how they really are, instead of what we think they are.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Shall I tell you how I know you’re enough for me? Because I was lucky enough to have a really good marriage. I loved Mandy, and I know she loved me—even when we drove each other crazy. She taught me that you don’t have to be perfect to be worth loving.’
Rachel thought about it. Was Tim right? Could she be enough for him? Could she let herself trust him again?
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘It isn’t the same love I felt for Mandy, because you’re not her—and I don’t want you to be her. I want you to be you, just the way you are. But I know my love’s true and it’s real, and it’ll grow deeper with every day.’ He blew out a breath. ‘You know what we said weeks ago about middle-aged people being set in their ways? I’ll try to be less set in my ways, but I don’t think I can stop being a workaholic. It’s part of who I am.’
‘And I understand that,’ she said, ‘because I have the same job as you. Emergency medicine means you can’t walk away. You need to be there and get your patient through the crisis. It’s not the sort of job where you can leave a task until tomorrow. You can’t even plan your day, because that’s the whole point of emergencies: you never know what’s going to happen or who’s going to need you.’
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘you can kind of plan your day. You don’t know who your patients will be and you don’t know what conditions they’ll present with, but you know who’s on your team and you know they’re going to try their best to help people, too, and you’ll get through it because you’ll work together.’
‘Which means,’ she said, ‘you’re reliable. You’re not going to let your team or your patients down. Just as you won’t let your family down.’
‘I can’t guarantee I’ll be home on time—or, if I’m working, that I’ll even manage to get there for a family party or dinner out with friends,’ he said.
‘Neither can I,’ she reminded him. ‘If there’s an emergency doctor in the family, everyone knows that and works round it. It’s all about reaching a workable compromise and having a good support network. I had Mum and you had Mandy.’ She paused. ‘You’re being too hard on yourself. Has it ever occurred to you that only a kind man who really cared would be so worried about missing things and letting people down?’
‘No,’ he admitted.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘You told me you knew I’d be enough for you because you’d had a good marriage and Mandy taught you that nobody has to be perfect to be worth loving. I’m telling you I know you’re enough for me and it’s OK for you to be a workaholic, because I was married to a man who didn’t care enough—and you’re the complete opposite of that,’ she said.
‘So where do we go from here?’ he asked.
She knew what she wanted, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to say it first. ‘What do you want, Tim?’
‘The short answer: you,’ he said immediately.
She shook her head. ‘That’s glib. I mean, really. What do you want?’
This was important, Tim knew. If he got it wrong now, he’d lose her. And he needed her to know that he was being completely sincere.
‘I want to share my life again,’ he said. ‘But not with just anyone. I want someone who makes my heart beat faster when she smiles at me. Someone I really like as a person as well as loving her. Someone who enjoys the same kind of things that I do and will maybe push my boundaries a bit. Someone who’ll be happy to blend her family with mine. Someone who’ll encourage me to catch up with my best mate while she catches up with hers—someone who understands that you need to do things separately as well as together and give each other space to be who you are.’
Was that hope he could see in her eyes?
It made hope glow in his own heart, too. More than glow: it burst from a flicker into a steady flame.
‘I want a real partnership,’ he said. ‘With someone who’ll let me support her and take up the slack when she’s rushed off her feet, and who’ll be there for me when I need support. With someone who won’t mind that when I’m in charge of sorting dinner it’ll be a choice of takeaway or cheese and crackers. With someone who’ll know that I’m not perfect, that I have all these doubts and these fears, and I’ll try my hardest to overcome them—but who understands that those fears won’t go away overnight, and I’m going to need prodding from time to time.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘That someone is you, Rachel. But it will only work if that’s what you want, too.’ It was a terrifying question to ask; but she’d been brave enough to ask him. He’d make himself be brave enough to ask her. ‘What do you want?’
She said nothing, and his stomach cramped.
What if he wasn’t what she wanted?
But then she cleared her throat. ‘I want a real partnership,’ she said. ‘With someone who’ll celebrate the good times and support me through the tough times. Someone who’ll do their fair share—I don’t mean necessarily half of each chore, but someone who’ll empty the bins or clean the windows I can’t reach or notice when the laundry basket’s full and put a load of washing in the machine without making a fuss about it. Someone who’ll make a family with me. Someone who’ll be honest and stay faithful.’
He could do all that.
‘But I don’t want just anyone,’ she said. ‘The one I want makes my heart beat faster when he smiles, just as I do to him. He’s the one who makes the morning feel bright and shiny and new when I wake and see him next to me. He’s the one who’ll know just from looking at me when I walk in what kind of shift I’ve had—and whether I need a hug, or coffee made with a bit of cold water so I can drink it straight down, or to be danced round the room and reminded that life’s good.’
He could do all that, too.
‘I’m ready to move on,’ he said. ‘And I want to move on with you. I’m not offering you perfection, because perfection isn’t real. But I’ll give you everything I am,’ he said. ‘I’ll respect you, I’ll appreciate you, I’ll compromise with you—and most of all I’ll love you.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry I made such a mess of things. I love you, Rachel. Will you give me another chance?’
‘Take a risk?’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Together.’
‘Together,’ he agreed.
At last, she smiled. ‘Yes. Because I love you, too.’
He released her hand, pushed his chair back and walked round to her side of the table. When she stood up to meet him, he wrapped his arms round her and kissed her. ‘I love you. Here’s to the future.’
‘The future,’ she echoed.
Just then, both their mobile phones beeped with a couple of messages.
‘Mine are from my daughters,’ Rachel said. ‘They say, “Well?”—with four question marks.’
‘Snap,’ Tim said. He grinned. ‘Even though I’d quite like to have you to myself, this evening, I think we might need to make a video call first...’