Their Very Special Marriage (20 page)

‘Yes,' they answered in unison.

‘It's Wayne Groves, Lesley's boy. She thought he had the flu, but he's been getting worse so she made him come in—and he's just collapsed. Could you come?'

‘Let's take him into my office,' Oliver said. Between them, he and Rachel supported the sixteen-year-old into Oliver's consulting room and sat him on the couch.

‘Can you tell us how you've been feeling?' Rachel asked.

‘Awful,' Wayne mumbled. ‘Head hurts, feel sick. Don't want to eat.'

‘He's been complaining of all sorts of aches and pains. I thought it was summer flu or something,' Lesley said, looking anxious. ‘He's been off his food, which isn't like him, and he says he feels sick every time he lies down.'

‘My eyes hurt,' Wayne said.

Rachel could identify with that. Hers were sore, too.

‘He's supposed to be starting a job next week,' Lesley said. ‘Just for the summer, till he goes to college in September. But I'm not sending him out to work like this.'

‘Be all right, Mum,' Wayne muttered.

Rachel examined him gently. ‘There's some bruising on your skin, Wayne.' When she touched his calves, he winced. ‘Your legs are sore?' she asked.

He nodded.

‘I don't think this is flu.' And she wasn't aware of any flu doing the rounds. ‘It could be Weil's disease,' she said. If it was, it was a notifiable disease, meaning that they'd have to tell the public health office—and the lab would want to know where the source was.

‘Wayne, have you done anything involving water lately?' Oliver asked.

He nodded. ‘Went swimming in the weir after the exams—it was so hot.'

‘Did you swallow any of the water?' Rachel asked.

Wayne shrugged. ‘Might've done. But the weir's safe. We've always swum in it.' He glanced at his mother. ‘I know Mum'd have a fit if I ever swam in dirty water, so that's why we go to the weir.'

‘It might not
look
dirty,' Oliver said, ‘but if water's draining into the weir from the farmland around it, it might be infected with the
Leptospira
bacterium—probably
Leptospira icterohaemorrhagiae
, which can be pretty nasty.'

Wayne pulled a face. ‘My mates went with me and none of them have got it.'

‘Yet,' Rachel warned. ‘The incubation period is any time from two to twenty-six days. So it depends on how susceptible you are to the infection, the level of infection in the water and whether the bacteria enter your body.'

The teenager worked out what she meant and a look of disgust passed over his face. ‘That's
gross
.'

‘How long have you been feeling rough, Wayne?' Oliver asked.

‘Couple of days.'

‘We'll need to get a blood test to the lab to check for the bacteria, and we'll need you to give us a urine sample before you leave. In the meantime, we need to start treating you,' Oliver said. While Rachel did the blood test and gave Wayne a sample bottle for the urine test, Oliver checked Wayne's records to see if the boy was allergic to penicillin. He wasn't. ‘OK. We'll give you a week's course of penicillin to start with. And I'd suggest you get your mates to come and see us for some antibiotics, just in case—the earlier we catch it, the better it is.'

Rachel exchanged a glance with him. Hopefully they were treating Wayne early enough. With Weil's disease, some patients went on to develop jaundice, anaemia, renal failure and even cardiac problems. More worryingly, it could be fatal in a small number of cases.

‘So is Wayne going to be all right?' Lesley asked.

‘Hopefully,' Oliver said. ‘It's a notifiable disease, so the public health lot will want to talk to Wayne about the weir.'

‘I don't want to get anyone into trouble,' Wayne said.

‘You won't get anyone into trouble,' Rachel said gently. ‘It'll just help them identify the source so they can clear up the infection and make sure nobody else gets it.'

‘You must take the antibiotics regularly, Wayne, and finish the whole course,' Oliver said. ‘If you get a stiff neck or a really severe headache, ring us straight away. I want to see you again in a week so I can do some more blood tests to see how you're doing.'

‘All right, Dr Bedingfield.'

‘Try not to worry, Lesley,' Rachel said gently. ‘I know what it's like when your child's ill—you feel helpless, wish you could have it in their stead. We'll ring you as soon as the test results are back, and you can ring us any time if you're worried.' She squeezed Lesley's shoulder.

‘Thank you,' Lesley said, her face white with strain, and led her son out of the consulting room.

‘Rachel,' Oliver said softly when they were alone.

‘I'm late for my list,' she said, and hurried out of the room—knowing that she was being a coward, but unable to face him right at that moment.

* * *

When Oliver finished surgery, he checked the appointments screen and discovered that Rachel had already gone.

No surprises there. But hurt bloomed like a bruise inside him. They'd worked together today. Worked
well
together. Didn't that prove anything to her?

He took his wallet from his drawer, planning to start his house calls. But then the catch on his wallet snapped and papers spilled out. Papers, including a photograph of him and Rachel. A very old photograph, taken in a photo booth. They'd been together for six months, and he'd been happier
than he could ever remember. Love almost radiated round them like a halo. They were both laughing and Rachel was looking at him as if he was her entire world.

When had she stopped looking at him like that?

He didn't know. But he wanted it back. All of it. He wanted the woman he'd wooed and loved and laughed with. And if it meant disappointing everyone else, then so be it: Rachel was too important for him to lose.

He went to see the practice secretary. ‘Prunella, can you do me a favour?' he asked.

‘Of course, Dr Bedingfield.'

‘Can you reschedule my house calls, please?'

She looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. Hardly surprising. He never, but never, rescheduled patients. He might keep them waiting a little while if a consultation overran, but he always worked through to the end of his list. Well, today was different. His marriage couldn't wait. ‘Prunella?' he asked gently.

‘Er—yes, Dr Bedingfield. Of course.'

‘Thank you. And I won't be available for the next hour.'

So what if the village started talking? He didn't care any more. He wanted Rachel back, and he wanted her
now
. Later, he'd give her flowers. He'd give her the moon, if that was what she wanted. Right now he was going to offer her his heart. And he only hoped it wasn't too late.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R
ACHEL'S
face went white and she nearly dropped her mug of coffee when Oliver walked into the kitchen.

‘I wasn't expecting you home. Aren't you supposed to be doing house calls?' she asked.

‘I've asked Prunella to reschedule them.'

‘You've asked...?'

Was it
that
shocking? Did she really feel he put the practice before her every single time? Hell. If he didn't do something now, he had a nasty feeling that their marriage would disintegrate completely. ‘We need to talk, Rach,' he said softly. ‘And I'd rather we didn't have this conversation in front of the children.'

‘Me, too.'

She looked as grim as he felt. Please, God, don't let her ask me to leave for good, he thought desperately. Please, don't let it be too late. He swallowed hard. ‘I'm not the best person with words. Not when it comes to something as important as this.'

He saw her grab onto the kitchen table, her fingers tightening against the wood. What was going on in her head? Did she want him to leave or stay?

‘I just want you to know—'

The phone shrilled, cutting him off.

‘You'd better answer it,' Rachel said dully. ‘It's probably a patient.'

Oliver swore. ‘Leave it,' he said. ‘Let the answering machine take it.'

‘But—'

‘But nothing. I'm sick of interruptions. Every time we try to talk, someone else cuts in. This is too important to leave.'

Tell her. Tell her how you feel.
The words echoed in his head.

‘I love you.'

She blinked at him. ‘What?'

‘I love you,' Oliver said. ‘You mean everything to me.'

‘No.' She shook her head. ‘Don't lie to me, Oliver. I know the truth.'

Truth? He stared at her in surprise. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Caroline Prentiss.'

‘What about her?'

‘Your mistress.'

‘My
what
?' He stared at her, uncomprehending. What the hell did she mean? Just because his elder brother was a womaniser, it didn't mean that
he
was. He shook his head, hardly able to believe that they were having this conversation. ‘I've never been unfaithful to you. I never could be. I'm not having an affair with anyone, least of all Caroline.'

She lifted her chin, challenging him. ‘Come off it. I heard it all in the playground. You used to go out together, and everyone thought that you'd end up getting married—but then she broke it off and you met me. You married me on the rebound. And the moment she was back, you were all over her like a rash!'

‘No, I wasn't.'

‘Oliver, I saw that text message she sent you. “I've loved you since the moment I first set eyes on you. I knew you were the one I wanted to grow old with. That hasn't changed and it never will. I love you.”' Her voice was shaking. ‘And, even worse, you actually started to use that line on me!'

He flushed. ‘I swear to you, it isn't like that. Anyway, why were you looking at my text messages?'

‘Because I thought you were being unfaithful. And I
found proof. When are you going to stop denying that she's your mistress, Oliver?'

‘She
isn't
my mistress. And that message wasn't about me.'

‘You're not making any sense.'

He dragged a chair out, made her sit down and pulled a chair out for himself next to hers. ‘Caroline was my girlfriend when I was a teenager, yes. But she didn't feel the same way about me as I felt about her.'

Rachel scoffed. ‘I saw you the night she came over for dinner. You were virtually glued to each other in the hallway. I mean, in our house, with our children asleep upstairs and when you thought I was in the kitchen. How could you?'

‘It really isn't what you think.' He raked a hand through his hair. It wasn't his secret to tell. But if he didn't tell Rachel the truth now, he'd lose her for good. If he hadn't already lost her. ‘Look, I'm not having an affair with Cally.' He took a deep breath. ‘She's gay.'

‘What?'

‘She's gay. A lesbian. Except she's always kept it very quiet so people in Hollybridge don't know—you can imagine the kind of hassle her parents would get, with her dad being the vicar. All the stuff about sin and that—even nowadays, people would gossip about her and make hurtful remarks and her parents would probably get the brunt of it. Back when we were teenagers, attitudes were even worse. Nobody would have accepted her for who she is.'

‘So let me get this straight. You're telling me she wasn't
ever
your girlfriend?'

‘Yes. No. It's complicated.' Oliver sighed. ‘I
thought
she was my girlfriend, yes, when we were teenagers. We virtually grew up together, with our parents being friends and the fact we both went to the same school. I liked her. And, yes, people said we made a good couple. I asked her out
and she said yes. But then one day things... Well. I wanted to make love, she didn't.' He could feel his skin heating. He really didn't feel comfortable, discussing an ex with his wife—discussing making love with another woman—even though it had been years ago. ‘Then she started crying, and she told me the truth. How she thought of me as a friend, her best friend, as if I were the brother she didn't have. She didn't feel the same way about me that I felt about her, but it wasn't my fault, it was hers, because she couldn't feel like that about any one male. She preferred women. But she knew it would kill her parents if they found out the truth, so she asked me if I'd still pretend I was her boyfriend, be her cover until she was at Oxford and far enough away from Hollybridge for it not to matter any more.'

‘Caroline's a lesbian,' Rachel said slowly.

‘Yes.'

‘But she doesn't look...' She bit her lip. ‘Um. Sorry.'

‘She's not butch, no. She's always been very girly. Unlike one of her girlfriends.' He grimaced. ‘Sam treated Cally incredibly badly. She was the reason Cally had a breakdown at Oxford. Everyone thought it was because of me, that I'd called it off between us. But I didn't mind taking the flak because I knew she couldn't tell anyone the truth, not even her parents. Nobody else would understand.'

‘Why didn't you tell me about her?'

He shrugged. ‘I didn't think there was any point. Cally swore she'd never come back to Hollybridge, and then she went to Australia. We lost touch and I didn't think I'd ever see her again. Besides, it wasn't my secret to tell.'

‘Couldn't you have trusted me once she came back to Hollybridge?'

‘I wanted to. But, as I said, I'd promised her years ago I wouldn't tell anyone.'

‘And your loyalty to her was stronger than it was to me.'

‘No, it wasn't like that.' He shook his head. ‘You come first, Rach.'

‘So why are you telling me now?'

‘Because I'm scared that if I don't, I'm going to lose you. I'm scared that it might already be too late.'