Chapter Twenty-Five

David waited for a lull in the surgery then tapped on Doctor Paton’s door and poked his head around it. ‘Have you got a sec?’ he asked.

‘Hi, David.’ She smiled and beckoned him in. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Hectic. Five people with flu symptoms already this evening.’

‘Ah, that’ll be the flu symptoms they’ve been told to stay at home with. If you thought working here was going to be a holiday, David, you’ve been sadly misinformed.’

David smiled. ‘I didn’t, though I didn’t think it would be quite so busy, I must admit.’

‘Manic Monday.’ Doctor Paton nodded knowledgeably. ‘People tend to get sicker on Mondays than they do on Fridays.’

‘Tell me about it.’ David parked himself tiredly in her visitor’s chair.

‘You might do better for a good night’s sleep,’ she suggested, peering at him over her glasses.

David laughed ruefully. ‘And that.’ Between rattling pipes, nightmares, worrying about Jake, Andrea, Sally and imminent babies, he doubted he’d get another decent night’s sleep ever again.

‘So what can I do for you?’ Doctor Paton twirled away from her monitor to give him her full attention.

‘Sally Anderson,’ David got straight to the point, ‘I believe she’s recently swapped to your list.’

‘Oh, dear, she’s not enamoured of your considerable charms, then?’

‘Er, no, obviously not. I just wondered—’

‘I hope you’re not about to ask me to break patient confidentiality, Doctor Adams?’

‘No.’ David did his best to look the picture of innocence. ‘Well, bend it a little maybe,’ he admitted, with his best winning smile.

Doctor Paton arched an eyebrow.

‘I saw her socially, at a dinner party,’ he lied, but more out of concern for Sally than himself. As far as he knew she hadn’t done anything about that scan yet and, given her history, David thought she should, sooner rather than later. ‘She had to leave early, stomach pains, and I thought as she’s pregnant, I’d mention—’

‘Pregnant?’ Doctor Paton now looked surprised at him over her glasses. ‘Really?’ She furrowed her brow. ‘Well, obviously I can’t divulge information, but … Are you all right, David? You’ve gone quite pale.’

David was too stunned to speak for a second. She’d seen Doctor Paton. Had the bloody pregnancy confirmed by her, she’d said. And Doctor Paton didn’t know she was pregnant?

‘David?’

‘What? Oh, yes.’ He forced another smile and shakily got to his feet. ‘I, er … Jake. I just remembered I was supposed to pick him up.’

‘Uh, oh.’ Doctor Paton chuckled, turning back her monitor. ‘Someone’s not going to be very happy.’

No, David thought heading swiftly for the door, someone is most definitely not.

With Ryan out with Jake and her gran having a snooze, Sophie chose her moment to tackle her mum about what she’d overheard David and her arguing about. She didn’t know what to make of him with everything that had gone on, but after also seeing the argument between Jonathan and her mum, and her gran acting nuttier than a fruitcake, Sophie wanted answers. ‘Mum?’

‘Hmm?’ Andrea basted the roast chicken they were having as a celebratory dinner – now they’d actually got an oven to cook one in – and fed it back into the oven.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Sophie continued peeling her potato, determined to do the whole thing and get one long spiral.

‘Ask away,’ Andrea said, checking Sophie’s nut roast, and then turning to the fridge, which was well stocked with loads of Eva’s vegetables.

‘About David.’

‘Oh.’

Sophie could feel the vibes across the room. Her mum might make out she wasn’t interested in him, but it didn’t take a genius to work that out. ‘He’s kind of all right, isn’t he?’

‘He’s been absolutely wonderful, Sophie.’ Andrea clanged the fridge door closed. ‘But I’m not sure I know him well enough to say whether he’s all right, or not.’

Yeah, right. ‘I mean he’s obviously a total idiot, getting someone pregnant when he’s a doctor – like, hello, condoms.’

‘Sophie!’

‘What? It’s not like I haven’t heard of them, you’ll be relieved to know.’

‘What do you mean, relieved?’ Andrea asked, apprehensively.

Sophie glanced behind her, noted her mum wide-eyed with alarm and rolled her own eyes ceilingwards. ‘I mean, I won’t make the same mistake Sally made, if I ever go near a boy that is, which I won’t ’cos they’re totally gross.’

‘Oh, good,’ Andrea said shakily.

Sophie rolled her eyes again and then – pants – broke her spiral. ‘He is kind of okay, though, isn’t he?’ She plucked up another potato and started afresh.

‘I suppose so, yes.’ Andrea peered over her shoulder into the bowl. ‘You’re supposed to peel the whole potato, Sophie, not half of it.’

‘I am. I’m just doing it my way instead of the boring way. So, what were you two arguing about?’ Sophie went back to her spiralling endeavours. ‘You and David, I mean.’

‘We weren’t arguing, Sophie, we were talking.’

‘Okay, talking about then?’ Sophie shrugged. ‘It’s just, I heard some of it, and what with Jonathan acting really weird and Gran driving me mental, hiding things in wardrobes and banging on about him doing away with her, I just wondered …’ Sophie sighed as the doorbell rang and her latest spiral plopped into the sink ‘… if David might be right? About Jonathan’s business dealings, I mean.’

No answer from her mum, Sophie turned around. ‘Typical,’ she muttered, realising she was talking to herself. ‘Just ignore me, why don’t you?’

Andrea sighed as she headed for the door. It seemed David really did charm everyone he came into contact with, including her own daughter, who, in Andrea’s estimation had been right in her previous opinion of him. He really was too nice to be true. Far too nice. If ever anyone was a manipulator and a con artist, it was David-oh-so-charismatic-Adams. The man was some kind of delusional sociopath, pretending to be caring and loving, when he was blatantly promiscuous and probably incapable of love; determined to control women in some twisted way. Why else would he go to the trouble of decorating three floors of an apartment, if not to keep tabs on her, for reasons she simply couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t as if he had time on his hands, and it certainly wasn’t as if he couldn’t attract the attention of many a not-so-dim young thing, women far sexier and prettier than she.

He already had. Sally for one, who might not be much younger, but was certainly prettier, and who Andrea absolutely didn’t believe he’d only ever met once. It was just too preposterous that he, a doctor, would make the kind of ‘mistake’ he had. The man was a liar. The worst part was, she’d been fool enough to fall for his lies, for him – at least until he’d spouted that last load of outrageous twaddle. She didn’t believe it. Not any of it.

Well, God help Sally, that’s all Andrea could think. They’d both obviously been taken in, Sally and she, along with probably a multitude of other unsuspecting women, but at least she could walk away reasonably unscathed. Poor Sally was having the man’s baby.

They were here though. And the apartment, Andrea had to admit, was lovely. So, for her family’s sake, this is where they would stay, until they chose to do otherwise. There was no doubt that Jonathan had some explaining to do. Andrea reached for the door. And explain he would, once …

‘Jonathan?’

‘I’m hoping you won’t slam that in my face.’ Jonathan nodded at the door. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you did. There’s no point saying I’m sorry, I know, but can we at least talk, Andrea?’ He shrugged sadly. ‘For Chloe’s sake?’

‘We need to talk,’ David addressed Sally shortly, his temper on a short fuse after knocking repeatedly. Having glimpsed her through the window, he’d known damn well she was in.

Sally peered at him through the half open door. ‘David, I can’t. I’m not feeling very … sociable. Can you …?’ Sally stopped, no doubt noting David wasn’t actually feeling very bloody sociable either. Far from it. Never mind him, did she realise what kind of trauma she might have put Jake through? Yes, David would have had to deal with it, if it were true, but … did this woman have any bloody idea?

‘Can you call back later, David? Or ring me—’

‘Now, Sally,’ David insisted, pressing the flat of his hand against the door. There was no way he was going anywhere until he had some answers. No way.

Sally’s eyes flicked down and back to his face. Then, obviously noting his thunderous expression, she nodded and pulled the door open.

‘Would you like to tell me what’s going on?’ David asked as calmly as he could, once inside the hall.

Taking her time, Sally closed the door and turned to look at him quizzically. ‘Sorry?’ she said as if she didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about.

‘Not half as sorry as I am,’ David grated.

Sally shook her head. ‘David, I don’t …’

‘What the bloody hell have you been playing at, Sally?’ David demanded, now very close to losing it.

Clearly shaken, Sally stepped back. One hand on her stomach, one hand on the wall, she looked at him convincingly wide-eyed and shocked.

Oh, very good. David shook his head. Did she really intend to keep up this insane charade? Had he got idiot stamped on his head, or what? Obviously, he must have. David was torn between applauding her performance and telling her exactly what he thought of her.

‘I think you owe me an explanation, Sally, don’t you?’ he said instead, attempting to keep his tone somewhere near civil.

‘David, I don’t u … Ugh.’ Sally gripped her stomach more tightly.

Oh, for … David sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Sally,’ he started, in no mood for more games, ‘just drop the bloody theatricals and tell me what the fu—’ David stopped, looking at her more closely as Sally panted out a breath and leaned against the wall for support.

She looked pale. Very pale. He noted the bead of sweat above her upper lip, the positioning of her hand. Her eyes squeezed closed now, two hands against her stomach, the woman was most definitely in pain.

‘Sally …?’ David caught her as her legs gave way. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the lounge and placed her gently on the sofa. ‘Where’s the pain, Sally? Can you show me?’

‘Mmmmf,’ was all Sally could muffle, placing her hand to the right of her abdomen.

‘Let me take a look.’ David reached to ease her hand away but Sally recoiled. ‘Sally, I need to examine you,’ he said, careful to keep his tone professional now – and considerably softer than it had been.

‘No!’ Sally tried to scramble away, now looking terrified. ‘I don’t want you … Oooh, God!’

‘Sally, just lie still.’ Even doubling up, the woman wouldn’t let him near her, though it was obvious she really was in severe discomfort. Exasperated, and growing very concerned, David tried again. ‘Sally, I won’t hurt you. I just need to—’

‘No,’ Sally whimpered. ‘I—’

‘Sally …’ David raked his hand though his hair as she attempted to lever herself from the sofa, and failed. ‘For Pete’s sake, Sally, I know you’re not pregnant!’

Or was she? David tried to still a sudden panic as he realised there was a possibility she might be. That she might be miscarrying. Or worse, that it could even be an ectopic pregnancy, in which case …

‘Sally, please,’ he tried. ‘I’m not angry. I’m concerned, that’s all. Please let me examine you. It could be serious.’

Catching a sob in her throat, Sally looked at him tearfully and, finally relented.

David sighed with relief and pressed a hand softly on her stomach. The uterus definitely wasn’t raised above the pelvic bones he established quickly, ergo no physical sign of pregnancy. ‘Show me where it hurts, Sally. Can you do that?’ David cursed his initial abruptness and made sure to be as gentle as he could.

Sally’s hand strayed again to the right side of her abdomen.

‘Here?’ David checked for rebound tenderness, pressing lightly over the area.

‘Yes!’ she winced, obviously experiencing more tenderness as he released the pressure. The muscles were tensing in response to touch, too. ‘Is it constant?’ he asked, searching her face, feeling her forehead. Her temperature was probably through the roof.

She nodded. ‘Yes. It wasn’t, but it is now.’

‘Right.’ Cautiously, not wanting to upset her any more than he already had, David quickly tested for pain on flexion of the hip, pain on the right side.

‘Any sickness?’

Sally nodded again, her breathing definitely indicating acute pain.

‘Loss of appetite?’

Getting an affirmative on the latter, too, David didn’t waste any more time. ‘I think it could be appendicitis. We have to get you to the hospital.’ Which, calculating the time it would take an ambulance to arrive, would probably be quicker by car, he decided.

Once again, Sally seemed reluctant to let him help her. No surprise there, David supposed, given how he’d barged in … and why.

‘Sally, it might burst, in which case it will release bacteria and cause severe infection. Come on, please. You can trust me, I’m a doctor.’ David tried a smile.

Sally looked at him guardedly then, but acquiesced, allowing him to ease her from the sofa into his arms.

‘We’ll straighten the cushions later.’ David gave her another reassuring smile and headed as fast as he could to the hall.

Sally managed a weak smile back. ‘I bet you hate me, don’t you?’ she said as he manoeuvred her out through the front door.

‘I don’t hate you, Sally,’ David assured her, carrying her across the road, to the surprise of one or two onlookers.

Sally grimaced and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘But you don’t love me?’

David hesitated. ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Sally. I like you but, no, I’m not in love with you.’

‘Did you love your wife?’ she asked weakly.

‘Very much,’ David said adamantly.

‘Do you love Andrea?’

David debated, then, ‘Yes, I believe I do,’ he admitted.

‘Tell her I love her, too. Will you do that?’

‘I will.’ David nodded. ‘But you can tell her yourself.’ At least she could if he could get her into the bloody car and to the hospital asap. Dammit, where were his …

‘Sweeping women off their feet, I see. Again,’ Ryan observed, arriving most definitely like the cavalry, just in time.

‘Keys,’ David instructed shortly. ‘Left jacket pocket.’

‘What’s up, Dad?’ Jake asked, standing off with Homer and Dougal as Ryan, obviously sensing the emergency, dutifully obliged and unlocked the car.

‘Appendicitis, I think,’ David called, lowering Sally gently inside. ‘Ryan could you …?’ He nodded towards Jake and ran around to the driver’s side.

‘No probs.’ Ryan nodded maturely and nodded David on.

‘So the insurers are definitely going to pay up?’ Andrea held Jonathan’s gaze, looking for signs he might still be spinning her a web of lies.

‘I can’t know that for certain, but I’ve had confirmation and I’ll keep chasing it, obviously,’ Jonathan promised. ‘I am sorry, truly, Andrea, for everything. I know there are no excuses for raising my voice the way I did. I …’ Jonathan trailed off, glancing down under Andrea’s astounded gaze.

Raising his voice? Andrea stared hard at him. Had he any idea how much he’d terrified her? How upset the children had been?

‘I was stressed, Andy.’ Jonathan walked towards the window, having refused the offer of a seat.

‘You were stressed?’ Andrea said incredulously behind him.

Jonathan sighed. Plunging his hands in his pockets, he looked pensively out at the night sky. ‘We all are, I know. I’m not trying to lay blame here, Andrea. It was my fault, no one else’s. I lost it. What can I say?’

‘Not a lot.’

Jonathan sighed again, and nodded. ‘So,’ he said turning back with a shrug, ‘there’s nothing I can do to put things right, then?’

Andrea looked him over. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot. He’d lost weight. He seemed genuinely remorseful, but … even if he had a magic wand to wave, even if he could make their house rise from the ashes, make the hurt go away, the fear and the uncertainty, having shown his dark side, he couldn’t rekindle her love for him. She breathed in, bracing herself to say what needed to be said, possibly should have been said, before fate had so cruelly intervened. ‘I’m not sure there is, Jonathan. I think I need to be on my own, for now at least.’

Jonathan nodded slowly again and looked at her, a long searching look. ‘Do you love him?’ he asked quietly.

Andrea glanced down.

‘It’s not rocket science, Andrea!’ Jonathan shouted then, causing her to almost jump out of her skin. ‘It’s a yes or no answer. I said, do you—’ Jonathan stopped as the lounge door opened.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Sophie demanded, looking Jonathan up and down, an angry flush to her cheeks.

Jonathan shook his head. ‘Nice to see you, too, Sophie,’ he said, smiling sardonically.

Sophie ignored him. ‘Mum?’

‘We’re just talking, sweetie,’ Andrea assured her. ‘He won’t be here long.’

Sophie shot her an admonishing glance. ‘Yeah, right, I’ve heard that one before.’

‘Sophie, he—’

‘I came to say goodbye,’ Jonathan interrupted. ‘Don’t worry, Sophie, I’ll soon be out of your hair.’

Glancing at him quizzically, Andrea turned back to Sophie. ‘We won’t be long, I promise. Go on, go and keep an eye on your gran for me. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

‘Someone needs to keep an eye on her, that’s for sure,’ Jonathan muttered.

Andrea’s jaw tightened, along with her resolve. She shouldn’t have let him in. No matter how plausible his apologies, no matter how puppy-dog-eyed and dishevelled he’d looked, once he’d relayed that the household insurers were finally going to pay up, she should have told him to leave. ‘And, Sophie,’ she stopped her daughter short as she backed out of the room, ‘don’t hesitate to dial 999 if you feel you need to.’

Jonathan gawked at her, astounded. ‘Bloody, hell, Andrea?’

Andrea folded her arms and said nothing.

‘That bad, hey?’ Jonathan smiled sadly.

‘That bad, Jonathan.’ Andrea’s gaze didn’t falter. ‘So, you’re leaving the area?’ She picked up on what he’d just said about saying his goodbyes, though she was only interested in what he did and where he went for the sake of his daughter.

‘Not a lot of point staying, is there?’ Jonathan shrugged. ‘I’m going tonight, so you can tell our charitable neighbour the coast is clear now, can’t you?’

Andrea didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Where are you going?’

‘London.’ Jonathan leant against the edge of the dining table, his attention now on whatever speck of dust he insisted on plucking from his clothing. ‘Just for a while, until I can sort myself out.’

‘What about your business?’

Jonathan straightened up and turned to walk back over to the window. ‘Doesn’t much matter about the business any more, does it?’ He shrugged again, indifferently this time.

If you say so, no. Andrea did likewise. ‘I need to get on,’ she said, not really wanting to listen if he was about to play the sympathy card.

‘I’m in a mess,’ Jonathan said as she turned to the door. ‘Financially,’ he went on as Andrea turned back. ‘Nothing major, just … a mess.’

‘Since when?’ Andrea furrowed her brow. Was that why he’d been so dead set against her doing something different? Oh no! Her eyes shot wide. Had David been right?

‘A while,’ Jonathan admitted. ‘That’s why I didn’t want you to give up your job. We might have managed on one salary, but … Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, does it?’ He faced her, smiling stoically. ‘I might be able to raise a bit of cash from my client portfolio. I’ll just sell up what business assets I have to another adviser and move on, as they say.’

‘But …’ Andrea looked at him, appalled, but more with herself than with him. Why hadn’t she realised? ‘Why on earth didn’t you say something?’

‘Would it have made a difference to where we are now?’

‘Yes! I … ’Andrea stopped, because the truth was, she didn’t know. If Jonathan hadn’t been so distracted, so seemingly disinterested, would her head still have been turned by the obvious charms of David? Andrea nipped on her bottom lip, feeling guiltier by the second. Had she been the distracted and disinterested one?

‘Pride, I suppose. I didn’t want to lose face.’ Jonathan glanced down and then back. ‘I didn’t want to lose you, Andrea, but I think I’ve succeeded on both counts now, haven’t I?’

‘Jonathan, I …’ Andrea shook her head. She didn’t know what to say.

‘Thought so. Right, well, I’ll just piss off out of the way, then.’ Jonathan smiled tightly, a flash of fury in his eyes. ‘Wouldn’t want to cramp Doctor Bleeding Heart’s style, after all, would I? I take it you’ve no objections this time to my seeing Chloe, before I go?’

‘She’s in bed, Jonathan.’ Andrea moved to block his way. With his tone back to aggressive, there was no way he was going anywhere but out of the front door. ‘I don’t want to wake her.’

‘She is my daughter, Andrea. I mean, I’ve gathered I’m surplus to requirements where you’re concerned, but I think I’m entitled to see my own child, don’t you?’

Sophie turned from where she’d been listening outside the lounge door to tiptoe to the bedrooms. She had no idea what was going on, but she had a really bad feeling. Her gran might’ve sounded gaga, but the more she saw of Jonathan lately, the more she was wondering whether it was him who was mental. Whatever, she wanted Gran on her toes.

‘Gran,’ she whispered, going into the room her gran was sharing with her mum until they’d sorted out who was sleeping where. ‘Gran, are you awa— Gran?’ Pants.

‘Gran?’ Quickly, Sophie checked the bathroom, and then went back to the kitchen, where she noted the chicken and nut roast had been taken out of the oven, which meant her gran was up and about. God, silly old bat, where was she?

Twirling around, Sophie checked the other rooms downstairs, then climbed over the baby gate and nipped deftly upstairs. No Gran in the upstairs bathroom, she checked her own room, the wardrobe, under her bed, then heaved herself up to strop back across the room.

‘Gran, you ought to know I’m getting seriously peed …’ Sophie stopped as she passed Chloe’s bed, and stepped back. ‘Oh, crap! Mum …?’

‘Mum!’ Her tummy doing a somersault inside her, Sophie thundered downstairs, almost falling over the gate, before bursting into the lounge.

‘Mum?’

‘I just want to say goodbye to her,’ Jonathan was droning on. ‘I’ll be two minutes.’

‘Mum!’

‘Sophie, just wait a minute, will you?’ Jonathan snapped. ‘Your mum and I—’

‘She’s gone!’ Sophie’s screamed over him. ‘Gran, Chloe! They’ve gone!’