City Girl (22 page)

‘Doh, a deer, a female deer,’ she sang lustily as her fingers inexpertly tickled the ivories. Twenty minutes later she had played her entire childhood repertoire and was about to
finish with a crescendo when a figure appeared through her doorway causing her to hit several wrong notes. The apparition winced as though in pain and a deep and very irritated voice rasped,
‘Would you for heaven’s sake cut out that infernal racket. I’m trying to sleep!’

Maggie’s temper began to ignite as she stared at the intruder, who now stood, legs planted as though they had taken root in her studio, his arms folded across his chest which was barely
covered by the bathrobe he wore. His thick black hair was ruffled as though he had just got up, but it was his eyes that caught her attention.

Blue ice cold prisms stared out of a tanned rugged face, his firmly carved mouth drawn in a tight line of barely suppressed anger.

‘How dare you barge in here! How did you get through the door? I have a Chubb lock on it! The nerve of you! Get out right this minute,’ Maggie ordered. Her tone was pure frost and
many a drunk in Casualty had quailed when he met the scorn that now flamed in her expressive eyes. Inwardly, she was cursing herself. She must have left her door unlocked. How could she be so
careless.

‘I dare,’ he retorted coldly ‘because I am very tired and you are disturbing the peace of this building with your caterwauling. So kindly desist.’

‘Look here, Mister . . . ?’

‘Craigie,’ he scowled.

‘I can’t help it if you’ve been out carousing all night so kindly exit this apartment rapidly or I’ll call the police!’

‘Will you indeed?’ he drawled, giving a huge yawn. ‘Who the hell are you anyway? Frances never told me she was subletting.’

‘Does Frances need your permission to let her own apartment?’ Maggie snapped indignantly, outraged at his arrogance. Just who did he think he was talking to? Some little
schoolgirl?

‘We had an agreement. I have a key to her apartment, she has a key to mine and we look after each other’s when we’re away,’ the tall man informed her.

‘Is that so? Well, Frances left quicker than she had planned, and I don’t think you were around so that’s just tough!’ Maggie said crisply and pointed to the door.
‘Leave . . . ’

Angry blue eyes ringed by long black lashes met equally angry green ones. ‘It will be a pleasure,’ he fumed, ‘but if I hear any more of that rumpus I will personally dismantle
that piano.’

‘If I want to practise, neither you nor anyone else will stop me!’ she replied, seething.

‘Just try me!’ he challenged.

‘Do you realize that I’m attending classes and I was doing some extremely difficult finger exercises,’ Maggie lied through her teeth, determined not to back down in face of the
sheer effrontery of his behaviour. ‘I suggest you insert some earplugs if you can’t sleep,’ she advised him coolly. ‘I mean it’s ten on a Monday morning. It’s
not as if it were the middle of the night!’ What an autocrat! Well, he just wasn’t getting away with it.

‘Did you say classes?’

‘Correct,’ she answered primly.

His jaw sagged. ‘Oh God! I’m having a nightmare,’ he muttered.

They stared at each other and Maggie became aware, as heavy-lidded blue eyes slid over her negligée-covered figure, that she was not dressed. Pink coloured her cheeks as she also became
aware of the way she was staring at the dark tangle of hair on his chest revealed by his partly open bathrobe and on a level with her eyes. Memories of Joe flooded back. It had been a long time . .
.

Yawning once more the man turned on his heel and strode towards the door. ‘I suggest if you are going to “practise”,’ the tone was heavily sarcastic, ‘that you at
least close the windows and have some consideration for the rest of your neighbours. And lady . . . ’ he glared at her, ‘I don’t carouse.’

Sizzling with temper Maggie watched him march across the hall to his own apartment, then, slamming her apartment door, she Chubb-locked it and returned to the piano. Her fingers hovered over the
piano keys. No bossy New Yorker was going to tell her what she could and could not do in her own apartment. Defiantly she played ‘The Last Rose of Summer,’ the only song she could
remember properly, before lowering the lid over the keyboard.

‘That might teach him,’ she muttered as she dressed to go culture-seeking.

She didn’t see him again. She toyed with the idea of asking him for his key. But obviously Frances trusted him implicitly and so she didn’t bother. She continued out of stubbornness
to play inexpertly on the piano when the mood took her but she prudently kept the windows shut and didn’t play quite so loudly. If he hadn’t been so rude she would have ceased her
musical experimentation, but Maggie just could not back down in the face of his impudence.

As they chatted during tea break at work one morning, Sally, one of her colleagues grinned. ‘I see “Luscious Leonard” is operating this morning. Just wait until you see him,
Maggie. He’s divine! Paradise on legs! And he’s divorced . . . da . . . da . . .’

Maggie laughed. Sally tended to exaggerate about men. Maggie was doing a three-month stint in theatre nursing so she would see the paragon Sally was referring to. The morning was busy. They had
a full list but everything ran smoothly. Maggie had a niggling pain in her right side which she tried to ignore. It had become increasingly troublesome over the previous few days and she thought
ruefully that she had better get it seen to.

‘Luscious Leonard’ was delayed by an emergency in another theatre and so when he did arrive, scrubbed and gowned, Maggie could only see a pair of piercing blue eyes over his mask,
and a rather large physique. Her own eyes, all that could be seen of her face behind her mask, studied him as he operated calmly, his fingers sure and deft. Professionally, she anticipated every
move of the routine operation and handed him each surgical instrument before he had to ask.

‘Excellent work. Thank you,’ he complimented her when it was over. And Maggie smiled behind her mask. The surgeons in New York always thanked the nurses for their input. At home some
of them treated nurses as though they were second class citizens!

The surgeon’s blue eyes were staring down at hers, faintly perplexed. There was something vaguely familiar about the deep voice beneath the mask and Maggie almost gasped in horror as he
untied it and she saw her ‘carousing’ neighbour full face. No wonder he had been mad. He had probably been up all night at an emergency. Before she could say anything an excruciating
pain caused her to crumple up at his feet. Perplexity was replaced by concern in his blue eyes as he leaned over her and removed her mask, assisted by a horrified Sally.

‘Good Lord!’ she heard him say softly as gentle fingers pressed on her abdomen. White-faced, Maggie gasped as pain hit her again and then she passed out.

A pair of twinkling blue eyes were the first things she focused on when she came to, feeling as though she had been run over by a truck.

‘The nurse will give you an injection for the pain,’ ‘Luscious Leonard’ informed her smilingly. ‘I’ve removed your appendix, which ruptured in theatre. But .
. . ’ his eyes crinkled disarmingly as he leaned nearer and murmured, ‘You’ll be glad to know that I’ve left all your fingers intact. It won’t be long until you are
playing the piano again.’

In spite of herself, and her discomfort, Maggie grinned. At least he had a sense of humour, she thought, as she drifted back to sleep. He arrived on his rounds the following morning and she
found herself rather mortified. After all he had been poking around her insides, he’d seen
everything.
Sensing her embarrassment he said easily, ‘So, Sister MacNamara, did you
sleep well? I’m finding it rather difficult to sleep myself. You see I have this neighbour who used to lull me to sleep with her piano playing . . . ’

Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing, to the surprise of Sally, who had popped in to see how Maggie was.

‘Get well soon,’ he said and she watched him go, smiling.

‘What was all that about?’ her friend demanded. ‘I’ve never seen anything so blatant, Maggie MacNamara. Falling at that hunk’s feet with appendicitis. I’ve
been trying to get him to notice me for the past six months. Why didn’t I pull a stunt like that?’

Maggie laughed and grimaced. ‘Ouch that hurt! Oh Sally, it’s embarrassing . . . him of all people.’ She proceeded to tell her friend about her previous encounter with the
surgeon.

‘You mean he lives across the hall from you!! Trust you to have the luck. Of course Murray Hill is crawling with people from City General. I’ll have to move over from The
Village.’ Sally shared a mews in Greenwich Village with four other nurses. ‘I don’t know if he’s dating anyone, I’m sure he is. He got divorced last year, according to
the grapevine, but he keeps a low profile.’

Maggie yawned and snuggled down into her pillows. ‘Go back to work, you idle gossip, and let me go asleep. I’m recuperating from surgery, I’ll have you know!’ Laughing,
Sally left her to snooze.

Two days later, he came to visit again.

‘Hello, Sister MacNamara,’ he said pleasantly.

‘Hello, Doctor Craigie,’ Maggie responded a little warily. Watching him as he read her chart she reflected that he really was a good-looking man. She grinned as she remembered
Sally’s description of him, ‘paradise on legs.’

‘You seem to be coming along fine,’ he remarked and his face creased into a smile as he added disarmingly, ‘Of course, you were lucky that you just happened to have been
operated on by the finest surgeon in New York City.’

Maggie laughed. ‘Modest as well, I see.’

‘I’m glad you think so. It’s one of my most noticeable attributes,’ he grinned wickedly, ‘that and my ear for music!’

‘I never imagined I lived next door to such a paragon,’ Maggie grinned back. She was beginning to like him more and more.

‘I bet you didn’t and aren’t you lucky it’s such a small world,’ Leonard said, taking two letters out of his suit pocket and handing them to her.

‘I checked your mail box. If you like I’ll check the apartment, I used to do it for Frances when she was away, but I’d prefer to ask you first, I wouldn’t wish to invade
your privacy.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I must apologize for bursting in the other day. I did ring the bell but you couldn’t hear. I didn’t know Frances was gone. I was in
Washington for a while and I didn’t realize she had left. I got a letter from her yesterday telling me all about her new job and about subletting to you. I must confess, a quick temper is
also one of my attributes – as you discovered!’ He held out his hand. ‘Am I forgiven?’

Maggie took his outstretched hand and gave him a firm handshake. ‘Of course you are. I shouldn’t have inflicted my . . . er . . . amateurish attempts at piano-playing on you. And
I’m sorry you didn’t know Frances had sublet to me, but she did have to go in rather a rush. And I’d be delighted if you would check up on the apartment for me,’ she paused,
‘oh and, by the way, the name is Maggie.’

‘How do you do, Maggie?’ he said, still holding her hand. ‘I’m Leonard and I’m very glad to know you.’ He smiled and continued teasingly, ‘You had the
most charming appendix I’ve ever seen.’

‘It was one of my most attractive attributes,’ she teased back.

They smiled at each other. And Maggie wondered why any woman would divorce someone who seemed as nice as him. Maybe he was a street angel and a house devil.

‘See you at the end of the week,’ he said as Sally arrived for a quick visit.

‘OK, bye,’ Maggie answered, wishing that Sally had delayed her entrance by a few minutes.

‘What a dish!’ Sally drooled.

‘Hmm,’ murmured Maggie, non-committally. But she was looking forward to his next visit.

On her last day in the hospital he arrived as promised. ‘My bill,’ he said suavely, handing her an envelope.

‘Oh yes, of course!’ Maggie was a bit taken aback. He wasn’t wasting much time about getting his money.

‘Well, open it and see if it’s too much,’ he suggested.

‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ she murmured.

‘Just to please me,’ he urged, his eyes twinkling.

She opened the envelope and two tickets fell into her lap.

‘As you are a pianist yourself, I thought you might enjoy going to a Richard Clayderman concert and of course as your attending physician I shall have to accompany you in case it becomes
necessary for me to save your life again,’ he informed her gravely. ‘And then, after dinner for two I expect you’ll want to do some of your finger exercises.’ He grinned
broadly. ‘I’m sure I’ll enjoy listening to them now that I know what they are. They do have their own rare charm.’

Maggie grinned back at him. And so do you, Doctor Leonard Craigie, she thought happily.

If she had enjoyed life in New York before she met Leonard, she enjoyed it twice as much after they became friends and eventually lovers. Leonard took her here, there and everywhere. They went
to concerts, exhibitions, they took boat trips on the river, they visited the Bronx Zoo and Long Island. Here she saw the famous Hamptons, elegant suburbs where the moneyed people lived, full of
exclusive restaurants where Maggie indulged her love of food to the limit. They had a wonderful time. He took her sailing in Martha’s Vineyard at the weekends. Whenever they could both get a
free weekend together they would leave the city and make for the beautiful countryside that surrounded New York. She saw Connecticut in the fall. Its display of multi-coloured autumn leaves like a
woven tapestry left her speechless. They went skiing in Vermont and rented a log cabin where they spent a romantic weekend together skiing by day, sitting in front of a roaring log fire by night,
exchanging confidences and getting to know each other even better.

Leonard told her that he was divorced and his wife had custody of their two children although he had unlimited access and took them for holiday periods. His wife Anya was an ambitious lawyer who
worked for a prestigious New York legal firm. She had worked hard for her position but their marriage had suffered. Of their nature his working hours were unsociable and it had been a bone of
contention in the marriage that Leonard would not go into private medicine where the money and status was. He preferred working with his public patients, he had several clinics in the various
public hospitals and although he earned a generous salary he could have earned five times the amount if he practised privately on Park Avenue. And of course there was no status whatsoever in
ministering to the lowly paid of New York City. Eventually Anya had had an affair with the vice-chairman of her company. Leonard had found out about it from a ‘well meaning’ friend of
his wife’s who was attracted to him. His wife had informed him that she was going upstate to a seminar on company law and of course he believed her. The nanny was taking care of their two
little girls and he had arranged to take a day off to be with them. Instead he had gone to the address given to him by the woman and found his wife and her lover in bed.