A Life Less Lonely (7 page)

“My name’s not Margaret.” She raised her chin. “I’m Mrs Rosemary Tarrant.”

Keir’s
heart did a double flip in his chest as he recognised her surname. So this was where Andrea got those fabulous eyes. “Right,” he said. “Well, Mrs Tarrant, I happen to think, with a pretty name like yours, you must know a lot about gardening. Do you have a garden of your own?”

As the WPC walked the perpetrator to the seat,
Keir took a ten pound note from his wallet and handed it to the baby-faced police officer. “Please give this to the florist with my apologies,” he said. “Explain this lady is a patient of Dr Harrison from Hartnett General and that I take full responsibility.”

He squatted in front of Rosemary. “Mrs Tarrant, can you talk me through this planting business? We should get your lovely gift in the ground.” He held out an immaculately manicured hand for the trowel.

“How kind of you to help,” she said, surrendering her weapon of mass destruction. “I’m not so good at kneeling these days.”

The WPC’s jaw dropped as the consultant moved towards the flowerbed and dipped the trowel into the soil. The security man’s face was one broad grin. The remaining police officer was on his radio while his partner went off to make peace with the florist.

With the begonias set in place, Keir stood up and rubbed his hands together. “Now, Mrs Tarrant,” he said. “How’s that? Do you think I’ve got green fingers?’

“I do. My word, you’re lovely and tall. Greg – that’s my daughter’s husband – he’s tall like you. He’s an Army major, you know.”

Chapter Five

Her phone’s long ring tone sent Andrea dashing back as she was about to leave her office. It might be something to do with Josh.

“Andrea? It’s me …
Keir.”

“You just caught me. Can this keep till tomorrow?” She kept her tone even, trying to ignore the tingles that had no business tantalising her like they did.

“Actually, it can’t,” he said. “Look, there’s nothing to panic about. It’s just that your mother’s here with me.”

Andrea gripped the side of the desk, trying to absorb the message without drowning in those rich caramel tones. This was serious stuff. “I’m not panicking,” she said. “But are you saying she’s been admitted to hospital?”

“No, Andrea, I’m not. Your mum’s absolutely fine. We’re getting on like the proverbial house on fire. Although she has eaten most of my biscuits.” He sounded a tad regretful.

“I just don’t understand why she’s with you. Will you tell me what’s happening? Please.” Andrea’s voice expressed concern

“It’s a horticultural kind of thing. Look, my PA’s taken Rosemary to the washroom. Shall I bring her over to the university? Or shall I drive her home? Maybe you should give your mum’s neighbour a ring in case she’s looking for Rosemary.”

Andrea’s thoughts whirled, only to land exactly where they started. “I - there’s Josh to collect. I’ll need to ring the crèche and tell them I’m running late.”

“No. Please let me help. Why don’t I drive Rosemary home and meet you there after you’ve collected your son?”

“Your time’s valuable,
Keir. I feel so embarrassed by this.” Andrea, knowing tears threatened, willed herself to keep calm. He’d think she was some kind of a wimp.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Your mum’s a walking history book. She’s going to be a real asset to the trial.” He paused. “They’re coming back. Lyn’s given me Rosemary’s address and if the neighbour’s not in evidence, we’ll wait outside in the car and I’ll learn more about British Prime Ministers. One or two of them were really quite naughty, weren’t they?”

***

Keir
parked outside Rosemary’s bungalow to find a sweet-faced middle-aged woman watching from the window of the house next door. The woman came down her path at once and greeted him as he opened the car door.

“Dr Harrison?” She held out her hand. “I’m Lizzie Dean, Rosemary’s neighbour. I just got a call from Andrea. What a relief to know Rosemary’s all right.” She stopped and waved at
Keir’s passenger.

“She’s fine, Mrs Dean. It’s one of those things. Rosemary has a good perception of traffic and she directed me here. My GPS system didn’t get a look in.”

Lizzie smiled. “I’m so sorry to put you to all this trouble. What a blessing you happened along when you did.”

“All part of my job,” he said. “By the way, do you have a key to the bungalow?”

“I have my own key,” called Rosemary, clambering from the front seat. “Can you stay to tea? We haven’t got to Gladstone yet.”

Keir
moved round the vehicle to assist her. “It’s very kind of you to invite me but now Lizzie’s here, I should get back to my desk. I’ll see you soon, Rosemary. I’ve really enjoyed our discussion.”

As he got back behind the wheel, he wondered if Andrea would expect to find him waiting. After all, he’d agreed to meet her at her mother’s place. But with Lizzie to take charge, there remained no reason to hang around. Seeing Andrea with her small son was not what he needed, especially after that clear reminder from his grandmother regarding Josh’s father. Andrea’s tall husband was obviously very much in the picture and fantasising about a woman so clearly off limits would in no way help matters.

***

“I have to say, your mother’s amazing,” said Lizzie, shaking her head and smiling.
“Nipping off to the hospital garden like that. I reminded her this morning that we had a tea date today. I’m so sorry, Andrea.”

“She does seem to have nine lives. But please don’t feel guilty about today’s episode. Mum’s my responsibility, after all.”

Lizzie looked pensive. “There was one bonus though. He’s a bit of a dish, that consultant, isn’t he? Wish he’d stayed for tea. I could have lured him with my sultana scones.”

The two women exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

“Trust my mother to go straight to the top,” said Andrea. “I still don’t know exactly how Dr Harrison happened along but he seems to have defused an awkward situation. I mean, walking off with those plants like that – she could’ve ended up in court.”

Lizzie shook her head. “According to the policeman who rang to make sure she was home safe and sound, Dr Harrison settled the bill and accepted all responsibility for your mother’s actions.”

Andrea stiffened. “I never knew that.” Her heartbeat accelerated into top gear. “Goodness, she hasn’t even begun the trial yet.”

“Speaking of which,” said Lizzie. “I’m hoping to be able to move in here by the end of next week. There’s a lady two doors down from me who says she could do with a bit of company. She’s a retired teacher. I told her your mum’s a history geek and she said she’d happily come in and spend time with her while I’m doing my school job. I think between the pair of us we can keep an eye on Rosemary.”

“Really? That’s such a relief. I was wondering if I should turn down the invitation to go to Canada but now you tell me this, maybe everything will be all right.”

Lizzie got up and peered round the kitchen door before sitting down again. “It’s OK. Your mum’s watching her favourite quiz show. So, what were you saying about Canada?”

“It’s to do with Dr Harrison’s medical trial,” said Andrea. “He wants me to accompany him to Montreal to be his co-speaker at an important conference. I’ve always wanted to visit Canada. My friend Kirsty says she’ll happily look after Josh while I’m away.’ She drummed her fingertips on the table. ‘My mother is more of a problem.”

“But not anymore,” said Lizzie, folding her arms. “It’ll do you good to get away. New experiences and all that, apart from which, I imagine it won’t do your CV any harm?’

Nodding, Andrea smoothed the crocheted centrepiece her mother kept on the kitchen table. She’d worked four, each in tune with a different season. In this one, pale golden primroses gleamed against misty green leaves. “I’m very grateful to you, Lizzie. It’s not easy being single again after you’ve been with someone in a loving relationship.” She bit her lip. “What an idiot I am. You know all about that already.”

Lizzie stretched out her hand and grasped Andrea’s. “It’s not that time’s a great healer, my dear. It’s all about moving on and refusing to crumble into a heap. Whether someone’s a movie star, an anthropologist or a dinner lady, we all of us share the same problem. You’ve got your career plus little Josh to keep you focused. You get out there and sock it to ‘
em.”

Lizzie looked so fierce that laughter kicked into touch the tears Andrea fought to hold back.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “I never want to forget how lucky I am. Or how important it is to keep our sense of humour - yes?”

Lizzie nodded. “You bet, Dr Palmer. So, just you say yes to Dr Delectable and seize the moment.”

Andrea couldn’t bring herself to confess she’d already found her own nickname for Keir Harrison. Dr Shiny Pants had found yet another admirer now.

***

Keir surveyed the assembled students. Some sat, alert, pens poised over notebooks. Others looked as though they wished they were somewhere else. The age range seemed broader than when he’d been a student. One or two of the more mature ones smiled appreciatively when Keir requested they kept any electronic devices switched off.

“Can’t stand to hear them tapping at their net books or whatever while I’m trying to hold their attention,” he’d told Richard Bailey. “As for all those bizarre ring tones, words fail me.”

“And I thought I was the old fuddy-duddy,” the professor had responded.

The talk went well but when
Keir asked if there were any questions, there was total silence, apart from the occasional cough or shuffle of papers.

“Nothing?”
He looked around expectantly.

A hand shot up. “My gran’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. How could she get on a trial like the one you’re planning?”

“Good question.” Keir smiled at the young man in the second row. “But whether Gran lives in Glasgow or Truro, her GP or specialist will be the one to guide and inform. So check out the Internet by all means and see what trials are taking place and what they’re focussing upon, but remember these are precious family members we’re talking about here. The medical history and current circumstances of each patient selected for our trial here at Hartnett has been carefully considered, taking lots of factors into account.”

“Cool. So you don’t just look at the stage the disease is at? Other aspects like hearing loss, osteoporosis and whatever, all need taking into account?”

Keir regarded the student with interest. “You’ve got it. Now, I can see Dr Palmer tapping her watch at me. I have to let you go.” He looked back at his questioner. “If I can help with anything related to your course, I’ll do my best. That’s a promise.”

He smiled as a spatter of applause ran round the room. Tip-up seats thumped back and conversation buzzed as he gathered his notes together. A couple of students approached him and he listened patiently and answered their questions.

As soon as they’d drifted away, Andrea arrived at the front of the room. He snapped his briefcase shut. At least, that had been his intention, but for some reason his fingers felt like sausages and he took two attempts before he succeeded.

“It seemed a shame to stop you,” she said, “but there’s another lecture following yours. Thank you, Dr Harrison. You really held their attention.”

“It’s my pleasure, Dr Palmer. Especially with a bright group of students like these seem to be. Are you going back to your office now?”

“I am. You’re calling in on the Prof?”

He picked up his briefcase. Slowly they began to climb the wide, blue-carpeted stairs separating blocks of tip-up seats. “Yes, though not before checking with you about your mother’s situation.” He stopped on the step above hers. “It’s occurred to me you might be wondering if you’re doing the right thing.”

She looked up at him. Temporarily he towered above her even more than he normally did. The sweet curve of her breasts under her crisp white shirt distracted him.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Her tone was chilly to say the least.

He shrugged. “She’s your mother, Andrea. It’s all very well my telling you not to worry. I can tell you I’m sure she’ll be fine while you’re away but if you don’t totally and utterly believe that’s the case, then I’d prefer you not to put pressure on yourself by coming to Montreal with me.”

She stepped up beside him, lips slightly parted, cheeks pinker than they’d been before. “Has Richard said something to you? Is this all about women being torn between career and family, Keir?” She pitched her voice low and mutinous. “Have you changed your mind about wanting me to be your co-speaker? Because, if you have, I suggest you come clean and tell me.”

He moved up and on to the area in front of the swing doors. “Of course I haven’t changed my mind, Andrea. What do you take me for? Nor has the Prof said anything. Why would he when you’re the best?” He frowned at her, annoyed yet desperate to reassure her. “Don’t you know having you by my side is hugely important when it comes to this conference?” He dumped his briefcase on the floor as if distancing himself from it and glared down at her.

“Well, you could have fooled me!” She stood, arms folded across her chest, feet slightly apart.

“Look, I truly didn’t mean to sound patronising. If I did, then I humbly apologise.”

She stepped up beside him on to the top level. Instead of firing back a comment, she looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. The thought that he’d upset her suddenly slashed through him like a surgical scalpel. He reached out and clasped her by the elbows, pulling her nearer to him, none too gently either. “Andrea,” he said. “I …”

Because her chin was tilted upwards, their mouths were dangerously close. Because her perfume and her body warmth played havoc with his self-control, he found difficulty in moving away even though at any moment the next lecturer or even a student might burst
through the door. Keir was well aware of that. But he couldn’t stop himself. He took Andrea in his arms and held her close. He saw surprise flicker across her expression before she closed her eyes and leaned even closer towards him. Somehow those angry folded arms unfolded and found their way around him, holding him close as he’d dreamed of them doing. Somehow he began kissing her, first gently then hungrily. He kissed her as though he never meant to stop. And what’s more, she reciprocated.

It felt so right, even though he knew it was the last thing he should be doing. Her lips felt soft and luscious under his. So much so that he kept his mouth on hers but moved his hands gently upwards, losing them in the softness of her hair, which, he realised with a jolt, was fragrant and silky just as he’d thought it would be. He forgot everything in the heat of the moment.

She broke away first. The expression he saw in her eyes was an odd mixture of fear and possibly, he thought, regret. She said nothing but stood, smoothing her hair away from her face.