A COUPLE of weeks later Blake’s contract with the prison service was called upon as it sometimes was. An inmate of a nearby prison had been operated on in a local hospital for a duodenal ulcer and had developed an infection around the partly healed incision.
He had been seen by the prison doctor but, as was often the case, the authorities had called in an unbiased outside practitioner to be involved in the patient’s treatment.
Blake found the man in the medical wing of the prison and after examining the infected area he prescribed antibiotics and regular antiseptic swabbing until it healed.
‘Doesn’t look much of a villain. What’s the guy been up to?’ he asked a nearby medical orderly.
‘Grievous bodily harm on a neighbour,’ he was told. ‘A fall-out over tall trees blocking out the light. Not a habitual offender and we get plenty of those. We were expecting a real hard man to be transferred here a while back, a gang leader who’d shot a fellow on a garage forecourt, but the authorities changed their minds and sent him further south to a top security prison. He was from the Tyneside area. Kenny Kelsall, the leader of the Kelsall gang.’
Blake felt his insides knotting. They were the people who had terrorised Helena’s father. No wonder Kelsall had been sent elsewhere. It would hardly be prudent to have him imprisoned in the same town that James Harris had been moved to.
As he’d driven back to the practice Blake’s tension hadn’t eased. It wasn’t hard to understand why so many people refused to testify in such cases. Thankfully Helena had only been on the edge of the danger. Her father had borne the brunt of it, and now she was rebuilding her life in the best place he could think of to watch over her, the Priory Practice.
Just having her around the place brightened his day. She was keen, efficient and treated the patients with sympathy and understanding. The only person who ever had any criticism to make was Maxine, who was still peeved at the way Blake had produced Helena out of the blue.
Darren was keeping his distance after the episode regarding the consulting-room couch, and as for Helena herself she was keeping a low profile with them all, especially himself, he thought ruefully.
But who was to blame for that? He was. He’d made such a fuss about the incident and had then fallen over himself to give her the impression that he deeply regretted having given in to a longing that she knew nothing about.
So was it any wonder that she was friendly but distant? What would she say, he wondered, if she knew that it took all his willpower not to go round to the cottage in the evenings? But he’d vowed to give her time. Time to adjust to a new job, a new home and a new man who for the first time in three years was attracted to another woman.
There was no way he was going to tell her what he’d heard back there in the prison. It was the last thing she would want to hear. The witness protection programme was in the past and that was where she would want it to stay.
The waiting room was full when he got back and amongst those waiting to see him were a pair of young newly-weds. They’d asked for genetic testing because there was a history of haemophilia in the girl’s family and she wanted to know if she was a carrier.
He’d passed them on to the appropriate departments and now they had come for the results of the tests that had been done. She was tense and anxious as they faced him and Blake felt that what he had to impart was going to be seen as a mixture of good news and bad.
‘You don’t carry the haemophilia gene,’ he told her, ‘but you have got another genetic disorder that has similar overtones.’
‘What is it?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Von Willebrand’s disease. I suspected it when you said that your gums bleed easily, you have frequent nosebleeds and heavy periods, all symptoms of the illness. It’s from a defective gene, like a lot of genetic disorders, but unlike haemophilia it affects both the sexes equally. Those who have it suffer from a lack of substance in their blood called the von Willebrand factor which plays a vital role in the clotting process. It’s hereditary, but this illness is not from the combination of two faulty genes, it comes from just the one. There is no cure, I’m afraid, but it can be treated.’ Blake explained more about the illness and its treatment. He also gave them information about support groups and made arrangements for the couple to have genetic counselling, as they had asked about the chances of passing von Willebrand’s on to a child.
‘The young couple that have been to see you looked very sad when they were leaving,’ Helena said when surgery was over and she found him on his own in the kitchen having a quick coffee. ‘She was weeping.’
He nodded sombrely. ‘With good reason, I’m afraid. I’d just had to tell her that she hadn’t got the genetic illness she thought she had, but that she’s got something almost as distressing and as it’s inherited she could pass it on to their children.’
‘Health care is a mixture of misery and happiness,’ Helena said solemnly. ‘Misery for those who can’t be cured and happiness for those who can, and for those of us with good health it’s a gift to treasure.’
He was smiling. ‘You’re very philosophical this morning.’
It was the first time he’d seen her since getting back from the prison and now the memory of what the prison nurse had said was back. Hopefully Helena would never know that Kelsall had almost been on their doorstep.
In the short time they’d known each other there had been enough spectres in her life. Her terror the night when the white van had been parked at the back of the cottage had been proof enough of the state she was in.
But now, hopefully for Helena, it was all over. She was settling in at the practice, liked living in the cottage and they had a pleasant, peaceful relationship that he was just about coping with.
She was watching him with the bright gaze that was so much a part of her these days and as if she was reading his mind she asked, ‘What are you thinking about? The prison?’
‘No, of course not,’ he lied. ‘I was thinking that you’re a changed person.’
She was laughing and as he watched her lips draw back over even white teeth Blake knew he wanted to kiss her again, to feel her slender suppleness hard up against him. It was all right, this ‘good friends’ routine, but it didn’t banish the longing that kept him awake at night and filled his days with maybes.
‘Changed for the better, I hope,’ she teased.
‘Of course. It goes without saying.’
She could have told him that he wasn’t wrong. She had changed, but not in the way he meant. She’d changed from being footloose and fancy-free to a woman in love with her boss, and how long she could exist without telling him so she didn’t know.
But once again they were in a situation where they could be interrupted at any moment and on impulse she said, ‘Are you doing anything tonight?’
She watched dark brows rise in surprise and held her breath.
‘Er…no. Nothing special anyway. Why do you ask?’
‘I thought I could cook you a meal. My skills are somewhat basic, but it would be one way of saying thank you.’
Blake frowned. ‘I thought we’d decided that the grateful scenario was in the past.’
She sighed. ‘All right, then. If I’m not allowed to be grateful…will you come because I want to get to know you better? I know Dr Pemberton of the Priory Practice, the police surgeon and the prison practitioner. I also know the good neighbour. Oops! Sorry for bringing that up again. But I don’t really know the man beneath all those guises and I’d like to know him better.’
The brows were still raised.
‘You would?’
‘Yes. I would.’
‘You might be disappointed.’
She could hear footsteps outside the kitchen and said in a low voice, ‘I’ll be the judge of that. So will you come…about eightish?’
‘Yes. I’ll come,’ he said, and went striding back to his own sanctum with the feeling that a very interesting evening lay ahead.
As soon as she’d issued the invitation Helena began to have doubts. Would Blake guess there was a motive behind it, and what would she give him to eat? There were three things in her repertoire—casserole, grilled steak and boiled eggs.
Obviously she couldn’t give the man in her life a boiled egg after a hard day’s work. A casserole took ages and was hardly original, so fillet steak and mushrooms it was going to have to be, and some quick shopping was called for the moment she went off duty.
‘You look preoccupied,’ Jane said in the middle of the afternoon. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Er…yes,’ Helena told her. ‘It’s just that I’m having someone round for a meal and my cooking skills are limited. I’ve spent most of my working life eating in hospital staff restaurants and when I haven’t been working I’ve eaten out or bought a take-away.’
‘Don’t try to be too clever,’ Jane said. ‘Do whatever you do best for the main course and buy something for dessert. With a bottle of wine to wash it down you can’t go wrong. May I ask who you’re entertaining?’
Helena smiled. ‘You can ask, yes. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you.’
‘Someone from here?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Dr Scott?’
‘No.’
‘Dr Fielding?’
‘No.’
‘Then it has to be Dr Pemberton. As if I didn’t know.’
‘I just want to make a gesture after all he’s done for me.’
‘Sure,’ Jane agreed with a smile of her own, ‘and did he take much persuading? We are talking about a man whose social life is somewhat restricted…by choice. For instance, I know one person who would jump through a hoop if it would mean him looking in her direction, but Blake has more sense than that.’
‘You mean Maxine?’
‘I do indeed. She’s a good doctor, but waspish with it, and wasn’t too pleased when Blake pulled you out of the hat.’
There’d been patients to see to and the conversation had ended there but as Helena buzzed around the supermarket after work she was remembering it. Was it so obvious that she was in love with Blake? she wondered. She hoped not.
He’d already made it clear that he didn’t want her to keep expressing her thanks. So how would he react if he discovered that her feelings went a lot deeper than that? Since the day they’d kissed he’d never touched her, and she didn’t know if it was because she no longer aroused any feelings in him or if he didn’t approve of relationships within the practice. Or maybe there was some other reason.
She wished she knew. But maybe tonight the answer would present itself. Just the two of them alone in the cosy cottage. She intended to look her best, and once she’d prepared the food she went for a leisurely soak.
Helena often wore green. It was her favourite colour, matching her eyes and enhancing her hair. Tonight she was torn between a soft green top with tight cream trousers and a dress of the same colour that clung to her hips and the firm globes of her breasts. It was low cut and flattering, but would Blake be expecting her to dress up to such an extent for a meal on a weekday evening?
If there was any chance of their relationship moving on while they were in each other’s company, she didn’t want it to be because he thought she was sending out signals and so the dress went back into the wardrobe.
She’d explored the cupboards of the rented house and had found some reasonable china, glassware and cutlery, and as she set the table her hands weren’t quite steady. Was she taking too much upon herself, she wondered, trying to make a confirmed widower fall in love with her? Blake must have met heaps of women since he’d lost his wife but none of them had been given the chance to fill the gap in his life, so why did she think it would be any different with her?
When she heard his ring on the doorbell just after eight, the table was lit by candles, the vegetables were simmering on the stove, the steak was ready to go under the grill and the wine uncorked. A quick glance in the mirror told her that she was looking good and with a serene smile she went to greet him.
But if she was feeling at peace with the world, Blake wasn’t. He was frowning.
‘I’m afraid I can’t stay, Helena,’ he said. ‘The police phoned while I was on the way here. There’s been a body found in the grounds of a hotel not far from here.’
‘No!’ she wailed. ‘Can’t they get someone else to go?’
He shook his head.
‘Afraid not. I’m not the only police surgeon in the area but I’m the only one available at this moment. I’ll deal with it as quickly as I can, but can’t guarantee how long it will take. I never know what I’m going to find on these occasions.’
As the evening stretched ahead without him she said, ‘Can’t I go with you? It would be better than waiting here.’
‘Are you sure you want to?’ he asked in surprise. ‘It could be grim…and I would have thought that any sort of crime scene wouldn’t be your idea of pleasure after what has happened recently.’
‘This is different, though, isn’t it?’ she persisted. ‘It’s not connected with me. I would stay in the background while you were doing what you have to.’
She could have told him that the pleasure of it would be being in his company. The rest of it she would ignore.
‘All right, then,’ he conceded. ‘Make sure you switch everything off before we go so that we don’t return to burnt offerings.’ As she obeyed he got back into the car and waited for her to join him.
‘I’m really sorry about this,’ he said as he pulled out on to the road. ‘It’s one of the drawbacks of working with the police, never knowing when I’ll be needed. Normally it doesn’t bother me. The work is challenging and rewarding, but on occasions such as this I could do without it.’
Helena smiled across at him and he thought that she was blossoming before his eyes, this nurse who was never out of his thoughts. He liked everything about her. The spirit that was beginning to show through after her awful homecoming. The way she was coping with having had her life turned upside down and finding herself amongst strangers. Her efficient approach to the job. He could go on for ever.
She was beautiful in a fresh, natural sort of way and incredibly was asking for the chance to get to know him better, he thought as his pulses leapt. But was she going to be disappointed? He’d had all the stuffing knocked out of him when he’d lost Anna and Jason, and ever since it had seemed a safe option to stay single. That way he wasn’t likely to have to face heartbreak again.
Bringing his mind back to lighter things, he said whimsically, ‘So what sort of a feast am I missing?’
Helena laughed. ‘If we ever get around to it, back to basics is a better description than a feast. I do a much-admired boiled egg, a haphazard sort of casserole that was once described as a gastronomic mystery tour and have been known to do a reasonable grilled steak.’
‘And which of those delights did you decide upon?’
‘The steak.’
He gave an exaggerated sigh of relief.
‘It would seem the best choice.’
‘I suppose that you are up to cordon bleu standard,’ she teased, ‘if your cooking is as exemplary as everything else you do.’
‘Let’s just say that I’ve got a good tin opener,’ he quipped back, and as the hotel they were heading for came into view at that moment the seriousness of what they were about to be involved in took over.
A woman’s body lay spread-eagled on the paved walkway almost directly beneath the balcony of a fourth-floor bedroom at the back of the hotel.
‘A gardener found her,’ a police sergeant told him. ‘It looks as if she either lost her balance, threw herself over or someone else did. Nobody heard anything, but the receptionist said that the woman had lost her voice, laryngitis or something similar. And added to that, none of the rooms at the back here are occupied, except for the one she was in.’
Helena had moved to one side so as not to be in the way as Blake lifted the tape that the police had used to keep the public back, but she could see the extent of the victim’s injuries and they were severe. She was lying face down with her limbs bent grotesquely, and the back of her head was covered in blood.
‘The DCI’s on the phone, wanting a word with you, Sarge,’ a young constable said as Blake began a careful examination of the dead woman. ‘They’ve identified her from the information found in the hotel room, and for some reason he’s going spare.’
The woman had hit the ground face down, which made Blake think that the injuries to the back of her head were from a blow rather than the fall, indicating some sort of foul play. There was no pulse or heartbeat, but the body was still warm so it hadn’t been all that long ago since she’d fallen.
As he got slowly to his feet the sergeant was back and his face was grim.
‘It appears the victim flew in from Spain this morning to give evidence for the prosecution at a big drugs trial. She’d been booked into this place and was going to be under police surveillance until she flew back in a couple of days. But it looks as if she was got at. We were told she was coming in on an evening flight, but she must have come earlier, which makes it look as if somebody knew more than we did.’
Blake’s glance was on Helena, sitting on a garden bench that was thankfully out of earshot. The last thing he wanted was for her to hear that this woman had been killed because she had been prepared to be a witness in a court case. Helena’s father’s ordeal was behind her now, but it didn’t stop him from feeling that it would do her no good to hear about anything else of that nature after what she’d gone through.
Twice in one day he’d been on the fringe of gangland matters. Thank goodness it was nothing to do with the Kelsalls. That name was beginning to haunt him. But Kenny was under lock and key somewhere down south and the rest of his gang were still involved in the crime scene going around Newcastle.
But it didn’t alter the fact that Helena’s life had been touched by them and if the fates had been less kind they might have got to know of her existence, sought her out, and it could have been her lying there.
She was looking over at him and gave him a brief smile, and he thought dismally that this would have to happen just when they’d planned to spend some time together. What she didn’t know about she wouldn’t worry about, but it had certainly put the blight on his evening…
‘Forensics will have to check out the injuries to the back of the head,’ he told the policeman soberly. ‘I don’t think they came from the fall, but they’re the best people to look into that.’
He took a deep breath. ‘What will happen now in the court case? Was she the only witness?’
The sergeant shrugged. ‘Seems like it. They’ll probably postpone the trial, or let him go free through lack of evidence.’
When he rejoined her, Helena said, ‘What’s wrong, Blake? Was it bad?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve seen a lot worse. But the value that some people put on human life sickens me.’
‘So it wasn’t an accident?’
‘I don’t think so. I think the woman was hit on the back of the head and then pushed over the balcony, but it’s for the police and forensics to sort that out.’
He was conscious that his voice sounded harsh, but he couldn’t help it. If he hadn’t been involved in working with the police neither of them would have been caught up in tonight’s incident. And yet if he hadn’t been a police surgeon he would never have met Helena, which did tilt the scales somewhat.
And now he just wanted to get her away from there and back to the untainted atmosphere of the cottage.
He couldn’t care less if they ate or not. He’d lost his appetite. So much for the pleasant evening he’d been looking forward to. It had been gruesome and unsettling and had left him on edge.
‘Come on, Helena,’ he said abruptly. ‘Let’s go. Tonight has been one of the times when I wish I wasn’t a police surgeon.’
Back at the cottage she sat him down with a drink in the small sitting room and went to start afresh on the meal.
‘The vegetables have gone all mushy,’ she told him, standing in the doorway with a saucepan in each hand. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
Blake didn’t answer. He was gazing into space, with eyes narrowed and jaw tight. Something had happened out there in the grounds of the hotel, she thought. But what? Surely he’d seen enough of that sort of thing for it not to get to him, but for some reason tonight’s incident had done so and she would like to know why.
‘She wasn’t someone you knew, like it was with my dad, was she?’ she asked, and that brought him back on line.
‘No, of course not,’ he said with a tight smile. ‘Let’s forget it, shall we? And, no, I don’t mind the vegetables being soggy. I’m fastening my hopes on the steak.’
It wasn’t true. He still felt as if food would choke him. The only good thing about the bizarre episode was that she hadn’t heard what the policeman had said, so if it had brought his nightmares back, at least she’d been spared a recurrence of hers, and he was determined that was how it was going to stay.
He would have to eat. Helena was geared up for the meal and he couldn’t disappoint her, though what sort of company he was going to be in his state of mind he didn’t know.
It was uncanny. On two occasions in recent weeks something strange had happened when he’d been called out by the police. He’d seen plenty of corpses in his time as his duties covered a fair-sized area, but nothing like this. First of all there’d been her father, who had turned out to be his next-door neighbour, and it looked as if tonight’s victim had been caught up in a similar situation.
When Helena announced that the meal was ready he got up slowly and followed her into the dining room without speaking. She was observing him reproachfully.
‘I don’t care what you say, Blake,’ she told him. ‘Something is wrong. If it’s because your call-out interrupted the evening, forget it.’ Her lip trembled. ‘Or are you looking for an excuse to go? Maybe you’re having second thoughts about us. If you are, feel free. The last thing I want is for you to be here against your will. Perhaps you were glad of the interruption and are now wishing it had lasted longer.’
‘You’re talking rubbish, Helena,’ he growled. ‘Of course I want to be here.’
‘So perhaps you could look as if you do,’ she flashed back angrily. ‘Because if this is how you look when you want to be with me, I wouldn’t like to see you when you don’t.’
‘You don’t understand,’ he said in the same tone. ‘I have things on my mind.’
‘Fair enough. and are you going to tell me what they are?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m going to eat the meal that you’ve so kindly prepared and then I’m leaving. The evening got off to a bad beginning. I think we ought to forget it and start again. That business at the hotel did take the edge off it, I must admit.’ And if that wasn’t a prize understatement he didn’t know what was.
When they’d finished eating he did as he’d said, got up to go, and for the first time since their exchange of words their glances held.
‘I know I’ve been a pain tonight, Helena,’ he said stiffly. ‘All I can say is that I’ve had my reasons. They are connected with you, but not in the way you think. By the next time we meet I will have adjusted, but for the moment I’m not thinking very straight.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that getting to know me better would conflict with your memories of your family?’ she asked slowly, and watched his face stretch.
Then it was her turn to be surprised as he replied, ‘No. I accept that they are gone for ever. It has nothing to do with that.’
At the door he kissed her gently on the brow and she could have wept. What had happened to all her high hopes, her plans for a romantic evening? They’d disappeared with the finding of that poor woman’s body, and she wished she understood why.
‘Lock up after I’ve gone,’ he told her sombrely, ‘and make sure that you switch on the security lights and activate the burglar alarm.’
‘I always do,’ she told him flatly, and as he walked down the path to his car it took all her strength of will not to run after him and beg him to come back.
* * *
As Blake drove home his face was grim. What a fiasco the evening had turned out to be. He’d set off for the cottage at eight o’clock in a buoyant mood and had been only mildly miffed when the call had come from the police station, thinking that it was all part of a day’s work and would soon be sorted.
Helena wanting to go with him had been a surprise but, keen for her company, he’d agreed, never dreaming that he was going to hear something that would horrify and sicken him.
Her own nightmare was in the past. He kept telling himself that and knew it to be true. But it didn’t take away the feeling of nausea or lessen the determination that from now on he was going to see that she kept out of danger and had no connection in any way with the seedy side of life.
She must have thought him a complete idiot the way he’d behaved when they’d got back to the cottage, he told himself as he garaged the car. It took a lot to throw him into that state, but he was in love with her, wasn’t he? Wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He’d already lost one woman he loved. If the precious gift of another deep commitment was to come his way, he would protect and cherish her with every fibre of his being and pray that Helena would never again be tainted by the wrongdoing of others.