Don't Want To Miss A Thing (23 page)

‘Hard work too, I bet. But worth it.’ The woman bent over and waggled Delphi’s outstretched fingers.

‘Definitely worth it.’ Wondering who she was and what she was doing here, Dex was about to ask when the twin beams of a set of headlights swung across the green and a car rounded the corner.

As it approached them, the woman said, ‘Ah, that’s my taxi,’ and straightened up, signalling to the driver with her free arm.

Dex watched as she climbed into the passenger seat and waved at Delphi. ‘Bye then. Nice to meet you. Don’t forget Orion’s belt!’

‘I won’t.’ He knew he probably would. ‘Goodbye.’

Delphi, copying the woman’s wave and opening and closing her hands like tiny starfish, chirruped, ‘Baaa!’

Chapter 27

At three o’clock on Friday afternoon, Henry gave in at last and called Dexter.

He’d held out for long enough, hadn’t he? Alarmed by the strength of his reaction to the photograph of Frankie, he’d actually forced himself not to visit Dex for a few weeks. To prove that he wasn’t a crazed stalker, basically. And also in the hope that the feelings might subside.

Well, that mission had been semi-completed; he’d managed to stay away, but the feelings were still there. In the meantime, his friend Dex was probably thinking he’d been abandoned, which wasn’t good.

Dex picked up the phone and Henry said, ‘Hey, how are things with you?’

‘Fantastic, never better. I’m sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, feeling like the world’s most evil torturer.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Delphi’s on the floor playing with a plastic giraffe and thinking everything’s fine. What she doesn’t know is that in a few minutes I’m going to be the one holding her down while she gets stuck with a hypodermic as big as a knitting needle.’

Henry smiled. ‘You heartless bastard.’

‘I know. Anyhow, speaking of bastards, when are we going to see you? I thought you were coming down to visit us.’

In London, in his office on the thirty-seventh floor, Henry swung round on his swivel chair and gazed through the windows at the city spread out below him. There was the invitation; how could he turn it down?

‘That’s why I’m calling you now. How about this weekend? I thought of maybe driving down tomorrow.’

‘Hey, great. That’s brilliant. I’ll introduce you to the locals.’ Dex sounded cheerful. ‘You’ll love the pub, there’s some mad characters in there.’

‘Can’t wait.’ Henry’s mouth had already gone dry. ‘Shall I see you around midday?’

‘Oh, hang on, better make it a bit later than that. I promised to help someone out tomorrow, give them a hand in the café.’

Just the mention of the word
café
gave Henry a massive jolt. ‘You mean the place with the goat?’

‘Ha, that’s the one.’ Amused, Dex said, ‘This is Briarwood, remember. It’s the only café we’ve got. Anyway, I’ll be there for a few hours. Maybe you could turn up around five?’

‘Whatever.’ Talk about a golden opportunity. Henry, who had no intention of waiting until five, said, ‘I’m easy. See you when I get there.’

When he’d hung up, Henry swung his chair round in a circle and did an inner, triumphant air punch. Tomorrow he’d meet her. He’d get there early and offer to help out in the café alongside Dex.

What could be more perfect than that?

‘Delphi Yates?’ The motherly receptionist beamed at Dex and said, ‘You can take her through now, love. Dr Carr’s ready for you, second door on the left.’

But were they ready for Dr Carr? Dex was already feeling a bit sick. What if he fainted at the sight of the needle? Scooping Delphi up, he carried her out of the waiting room and down the corridor. He knocked on the door, pushed it open . . .

And came face to face with Amanda.

They stared at each other for several seconds.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been naked. Today she was wearing a neat olive dress beneath a white medical coat. He was tempted to say, ‘I hardly recognise you with your clothes on.’ Then again, perhaps not.

Finally he said, ‘You’re Dr Carr.’

‘I am.’ She wasn’t smiling.

‘You didn’t tell me you were a GP.’

‘No, well, it’s not compulsory.’ Glancing at Delphi, on his hip, Amanda said coolly, ‘There appears to be something you forgot to mention too.’

Dex gave Delphi a squeeze as he sat down and settled her on to his lap. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still single. I’m Delphi’s guardian. It’ll all be there in her notes.’

He waited while she brought the relevant pages up on the computer and read them through.

‘Right.’ When she’d finished, Amanda visibly relaxed. ‘Well, now I know why you had to rush off home. Can I ask, are you registered with me as well? Because if you are, we should switch you to one of the other doctors in the practice.’

‘I’ll do that.’ Dex nodded; God, who’d have thought registering with a new doctor could be such a minefield?

‘OK, so Delphi needs her Hib/Men C jab. Let’s get that done, shall we?’

Amanda launched into professional mode. Dex held Delphi and did his best to distract her while the hypodermic was plunged into the soft squidgy bit of her upper thigh. Delphi’s happy carefree smile turned in slow motion into a howl of disbelief and she struggled to escape.

Dex, attempting to console her, was horrified to feel his own eyes prickle with tears. He knew he was doing this because it had to be done, but would Delphi forgive him and ever trust him again? And God, how embarrassing that Amanda was seeing him like this . . .

‘Never easy, inflicting pain on a baby.’ She smiled at him and blew up a disposable rubber glove; within seconds, Delphi had stopped crying and was shrieking with laughter as she tried to grab the inflated fingers.

‘So, anyway. This doesn’t have to be awkward,’ said Dex.

‘Apart from the slightly awkward fact that I gave you my number and you haven’t called it.’ Amanda efficiently disposed of the syringe in the sharps box and washed her hands.

‘Still have it though.’ For once he hadn’t thrown the piece of paper away; flipping open his wallet, Dex triumphantly produced it. ‘I was just waiting for the opportunity.’ Was this true? Actually, it probably was.

‘Well, good. Glad to hear it.’

‘Why did you tell me you were a secretary?’

‘Occupational hazard of being a medic.’ Amanda grimaced. ‘It’s just easier. As soon as anyone finds out you’re a doctor, they start asking you about their clicky necks and headaches and asymmetrical breasts.’

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said Dex.

‘Even better news. Well, nice to see you again.’ Checking her watch, she said, ‘My next patient will be waiting.’

‘Let’s hope you haven’t slept with them too.’

‘Especially seeing as she’s eighty-six years old with chronic bladder trouble.’ Amanda smiled and said, ‘Bye. Call me.’

‘Gaaaaaahhh,’ burbled Delphi.

Dex said, ‘I will.’

It was one o’clock on Saturday and the sun was blazing down. Having arrived in Briarwood two hours earlier, Henry was having a curate’s egg of a day.

The good news was that Delphi was enthralled by him, following him around like a besotted puppy and endlessly fascinated by his face, his hair, his teeth, his voice.

The other items of good news were that it was great to see Dex again, the village itself was charming and the villagers friendly.

The bad news, the very,
very
disappointing bad news, was that Frankie Taylor, the woman who’d occupied his thoughts for the last few weeks, wasn’t among them.

Ironically, he’d learned with a sinking heart, she was in London.

Even more ironically, for the first time ever.

‘That’s why I’m here, helping out,’ Dex had explained when he’d finished introducing Henry to Amber. ‘I was in here with Delphi the other day, chatting to Frankie about London. I couldn’t believe it when she said she’d never been. Can you imagine? And I told her she should go.’

Brilliant. Just perfect. Thanks a lot. Henry did his best to look only mildly interested.

‘Then Mum said she’d love to but she couldn’t,’ Amber chimed in, ‘because how could she leave me to run the café on my own?’

‘So I offered to give Amber a hand,’ Dex said cheerily.

There was such a thing as being too helpful. ‘And she’s gone up there for the day?’ said Henry.

‘The whole weekend! Her and her friend Molly.’ Amber rolled her eyes. ‘They’re going sightseeing during the day, then off to a club at night. I told Mum she was too old to go clubbing but it’s like she’s on some kind of mission to humiliate me.’

‘It’s about time she had some fun,’ said Dex.

‘Fun? It’s embarrassing. She’s threatening to dance.’ With a mock shudder, Amber said, ‘Except she calls it
having a bit of a bop
.’

‘Here we are, found it!’ The door to the café swung open and a curvy woman in a tight pink dress burst in, carrying what looked like a couple of wooden gates in each hand. When she saw Henry holding Delphi, she stopped dead in her tracks and said, ‘Well, hello, my day just took a turn for the better. Who have we here?’

Assuming she meant the baby, Henry said, ‘This is Delphi.’

‘I know
that
.’ Amused, the woman said, ‘I was talking to you.’

Help
.

‘Don’t frighten him,’ Dex chided. ‘His name’s Henry and we used to work together. He’s down here for the weekend.’

‘Better and better. You’re a sight for sore eyes, aren’t you?’ Handing the gates to Dex, the woman reached for Henry’s hand and shook it, hanging on for a good few seconds after the shake was over. ‘I’m Lois. How very lovely to meet you. I hope we’ll see you in the Swan this evening.’

‘Lois runs the pub,’ Dex explained. He added, ‘And I don’t know if you’d noticed, but she’s not shy.’

Henry, who
was
shy, managed to claim his hand back at last. To cover his confusion he pointed to the gates and said, ‘What are they?’

‘We’re building a cage.’ Lois regarded him for a second, then
broke into a red-lipsticked grin. ‘It’s my daughter’s old playpen. Dexter was going to tether Delphi to a stake in the garden, like Young Bert. I said I’d dig it out so he could pop her in this instead.’

The next thing Henry knew, he was out in the café garden with Lois, slotting together the sides of the pen and tightening the screws she’d rather disconcertingly put for safekeeping inside her mauve satin bra. He found himself on the receiving end of a barrage of personal questions: Was he married? Any kids? Did he want any? What, soon? Did he ever think of leaving London? And what did he do to keep himself in shape?

Dex, coming outside and watching from a distance, said, ‘You’re scaring him, Lois.’

‘No I’m not. Am I?’ She patted Henry’s arm and gave it a little squeeze. ‘Don’t be scared, I’m just interested. I like to know things about people. If you don’t ask, how else are you going to find out? And let’s face it, we don’t get many like you around here.’

‘You mean the colour of my skin?’

‘Ha, I meant the fact that you’re so handsome. Your eyes,’ said Lois. ‘That voice. Those muscles. The whole damn package.’

Now
what was he supposed to say? Oh God, and had she deliberately unbuttoned her dress so more of her cleavage was on show?

‘Hang on,’ Dexter protested. ‘Are you saying he’s better looking than me?’

‘Now, now, you’re both perfect specimens. But this one has the shoulders, the build, like a big burly rugby player.’ Henry flinched as Lois gave his shirt-clad arm an appreciative rub. ‘He’s definitely more my type.’

Back at the pub, between serving customers, Lois inwardly cringed at the show she’d put on earlier for Dexter’s friend. Honestly,
what was she like? Sometimes she despaired of herself. Other people got plastered and ended up being embarrassing, but she somehow managed to do it when she was sober. It just seemed to happen, as if she were mentally programmed to play the part of the bawdy
Carry On
barmaid, over the top in every way, jaunty, cheeky and flirtatious. She could feel herself doing and saying things that really shouldn’t be said but it was almost impossible to stop. Even when – like this afternoon – it was perfectly obvious that the poor man, Henry, would far rather be left alone.

She didn’t even know why she did these things; it was like some kind of compulsion to prove to the world that nothing scared her. It was a front, a barrier she put up against all men to show that she was more than a match for any of them.

And sometimes, Lois thought ruefully, it worked just a little too well. When it came to men like Henry, without meaning to but unable to help herself, she succeeded in terrifying the life out of them.

Hairy Dave from the garage approached the bar. ‘Same again, two large ones.’ As always, he leered at her chest and added with a chuckle, ‘Any time you like, love. You know that, don’t you?’

Ergh, in his dreams. But he single-handedly drank enough to practically keep the pub in profit, so Lois rolled her eyes and said good-naturedly, ‘Yes, Dave, I do. Dream on.’

Because wasn’t she as bad as him, in her own way?

Chapter 28

The soles of Molly’s feet were on fire. Sightseeing was hard work and they’d done more than their fair share today. Buckingham Palace, the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament, Knightsbridge, the Serpentine . . . so many places Frankie had never seen in real life were being ticked off the list. Together they’d navigated the Tube, greeting and smiling at their fellow travellers and being summarily blanked in return. She’d warned Frankie from past experience that this would happen but Frankie had refused to believe her and done it anyway. So many thousands of people crammed together like sardines and still not speaking to each other, refusing even to acknowledge each other’s existence.

But that had been during the day. It was night-time now and the unfriendliness of the city was no longer so apparent. As darkness had fallen and the lights had come on in the West End, London had begun to look magical, like something out of a film. The bridges strung across the Thames glittered like necklaces, illuminated tourist boats chugged through the water and the trees along the banks were lit up with white lights. It was a warm night and people thronged the pavements outside bars and cafés.