Unknown (7 page)

'You have three children, don't you. Felicity?'

Her patient nodded.

'And you do a lot for your mother. It's a lot to cope with, isn't it?'

Felicity King looked at Sophie, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. 'I can't cope any more. I really can't... And I don't know what to do.' With that, Felicity King—Super daughter—burst into a fit of distraught sobbing.

Sophie passed tissues and waited for the storm to subside a little. 'Would you like to tell me about it, Felicity?' she suggested gently. 'Maybe I can help.'

It was a long story. Sophie heard about what a wonderful mother and grandmother Ruby had been. How Felicity had relied on her help when the boys were small.

'Even after Dad died, she coped. She couldn't do enough for us, really. Babysitting, cleaning, cooking and so on. And then she broke her ankle. She tripped over Nathan's bike. I felt like it was all my fault.'

'So you began helping your mother instead of her helping you?'

'It was the least I could do, and it was only going to be until she got back on her feet again. But she never did, not really. She seemed to lose interest in the children and put on all that weight. I started out just helping with the cleaning once a week, but when she broke her wrist I started cooking her meals.'

Sophie raised her eyebrows. 'All of them?'

'Oh, no. Only dinners.'

'This would have been about the time your mother's asthma started.'

'Yes.' Felicity blew her nose and then sniffed. 'That's when I started doing her shopping with her. I've tried to cut down—not do as many meals and
things—but she gets upset and her asthma gets worse. I'm trapped.'

'You're
still
doing all her meals?'

Felicity nodded miserably. 'I've tried just to cook extra at home and take her some of that, but it's not good enough. She never says anything but if she likes her dinner she washes the plate. If she doesn't like it, it's sitting there on the bench for me the next day with all the food poked around and left.'

Sophie's assessment of Ruby Murdock's personality slipped a notch.

'She won't eat rice. She's got false teeth and says the bits get stuck. She won't eat salad or pasta or anything easy. It has to be meat and three veg. And something different every day. It's hard enough trying to think of what to feed Brent and the children, let alone Mum.'

'How does Brent feel about your extra workload?'

'He doesn't get on with Mum any more. In fact, our marriage isn't so great just now. It'll be the last straw if I'm pregnant. He didn't even want us to have three children and he had a vasectomy when I was pregnant with Laura, but they don't always work, do they?'

'Let's find out.' Sophie stood up and collected a specimen jar from her cupboard. 'And then we'll have a think about what to do to reduce a bit of your stress. There's lots of help your mother can get. Home help and meals on wheels and so on. It doesn't all have to fall on your shoulders, you know.'

'I've never thought of asking for help before. Especially not from a doctor. It's not as if I'm sick or anything. I only came in for a pregnancy test.'

'Well, it's a good thing you did,' Sophie said firmly. 'Sometimes asking for help is the most difficult part, and a doctor is a good person to start with no matter what the problem is. It's what we're here for. If we can't help you ourselves, then we'll know someone who can.'

Felicity King smiled for the first time as she accepted the specimen jar from Sophie. 'Thanks. I almost feel as if I can cope with this now. Whatever the result.'

'It was a negative result. She isn't pregnant.'

Sophie was sitting in the staffroom, having returned to St David's after the lengthy afternoon workshop in order to write up her notes on the consultation with Felicity King. By the time she finished it was 6 p.m. and Sophie was surprised to find Oliver in the staff-room. The other staff members had gone home. Curious to know whether Oliver's unusual mood had worn off, Sophie busied herself making a cup of coffee, and telling Oliver about the unexpected visit as she did so.

She sat at the table and put her mug down carefully. 'It's funny, isn't it? I thought Ruby Murdock was a sweet, motherly type. Seems like she's manipulating her poor daughter into a serious depression.'

'Hmm.' Oliver looked thoughtful. 'I've only ever treated the children since Laura was born. Felicity's never hinted at any problems.' He smiled at Sophie. 'Perhaps it needed the feminine touch.'

'Or maybe the pregnancy scare was the last straw.' Sophie returned the smile with relief. This was more like the Oliver she knew. As she relaxed she uncurled the tight fist her left hand made. The movement made her draw her breath in sharply.

'What's up?' Oliver's eyebrows shot up in concern.

'Oh, nothing.' Sophie felt embarrassed. She looked down at her left hand and the wad of tissue still clutched in it. Oliver followed the line of her gaze.

'What the hell...?' He was on his feet in a fluid movement. Two steps brought him to the table. His hand curled around Sophie's wrist as he lifted her hand. The bloodstained tissues rolled off her palm.

'It's just a little nick,' Sophie said hurriedly. 'My own stupidity. The skin on those lumps of pork we were practising on were a lot tougher than they looked. I got a bit carried away.' She laughed a little too loudly. 'Perhaps I shouldn't be allowed to wield a scalpel, unsupervised, after all.'

Oliver didn't appear to be listening. He still held her wrist captive with one hand. With the other he was examining the cut on the underside of her ring finger.

'Right,' he said finally. 'You're coming with me.'

'What?' Sophie scrambled to her feet. She had no choice. Oliver was still holding her wrist like a human handcuff and he was already moving towards the door. 'It's quite clean. I was just waiting for the bleeding to stop completely. Then I'll put a sticking plaster on it.'

'It needs stitching,' Oliver stated. 'Or at least some steri-strips.'

'I can do that,' Sophie protested. They were entering the treatment room. 'Really, there's no need for you to—'

'How are you going to manage that?' Oliver stopped and Sophie found his face only inches from her own. There was a renewed hint of anger in his expression. 'Hold one end with your teeth?'

Sophie made no further protest. She sat meekly as Oliver cleaned and dried the wound. The steri-strips were positioned carefully, drawing the edges of skin together closely enough to heal neatly. Then he put a dressing on top and wound a thin gauze bandage along the length of her finger.

'You'll have to keep it dry for a few days,' he said crisply. 'And the steri-strips will need to stay on for at least a week.'

'OK. Thanks, Oliver.' Sophie was ready to slide off the bed she was sitting on but Oliver was still standing too close. His thigh was touching her knees.

'Rather a shame,' Oliver added.

'Mmm. I never thought I was that clumsy.'

'That wasn't what I meant.' Oliver still didn't move away. 'I meant that it's a shame it's that particular finger. Even when you get your ring fixed you won't be able to wear it for a while. A couple of weeks at least, I should imagine.'

'I'm not worried,' Sophie said quickly. She did
not
want to discuss her ring. 'It's no big deal.'

'Isn't it?' Oliver managed to give his query an inflection that implied he was talking about far more than a piece of jewellery. Sophie swallowed with some difficulty.

'I've always thought an engagement was quite a sizeable deal,' Oliver continued calmly. 'But maybe if I'd had one as long as yours I might have got rather complacent about it as well.'

'I'm not complacent. Just...'

'Confident?'

'I suppose.' Sophie gave a wriggle to advertise her desire to get off the bed. Oliver failed to take the hint and Sophie now found her knees pressed firmly
against his leg. She caught his eye and then wished she hadn't. The intensity was unnerving.

'Josh could be right, you know.'

'Really?' The sensations that seemed to be drawn from Oliver's leg into her own body were fascinating. Sophie could feel them spreading, lodging in the pit of her stomach and tightening her chest wall.

'Maybe you can't be completely confident without some form of comparison.'

The eye contact was locked on. Sophie couldn't have escaped even if she'd wanted to. And she didn't want to. But this was dangerous territory, the closest Sophie had come to real danger that she could think of. And she didn't even want to step back. She cleared her throat nervously.

'Who...who exactly did you have in mind?'

Oliver smiled. A lazy, slow smile that was almost predatory. Sophie felt a flash of real fear as his lips brushed hers lightly. Then they settled more firmly and the fear was banished by a far more electrifying sensation. She could feel that kiss with every nerve in her entire body. Sophie closed her eyes and opened her mouth, dissolving into the sensation as she felt Oliver's hands cradle her head, tilting it far enough to deepen the kiss. Sophie had no control whatsoever. Oliver was exploring her mouth...tasting her soul. The intimacy was shocking but Sophie had no desire to even try and pull away. Her hands touched Oliver's chest and were about to slide up across the ridge of hard muscle towards his neck when Oliver finally released his hold on Sophie's mouth.

'Does Greg kiss you like that?' Oliver asked softly.

Sophie gasped. How could Oliver even think about Greg when that kiss had made her feel as if they were the only two humans in existence? Had his only intention been to provoke and unsettle her?

'What are you trying to do?' Sophie whispered in bewilderment. How could Oliver have the power to make her feel the way he just had and then use that power to manipulate her so casually? Had she been entirely wrong in her assessment of Oliver Spencer's integrity?

Oliver seemed taken aback by her reaction. His face creased placatingly. 'Look, it was just a kiss. Nothing to get so worked up about. You're not married yet and I'm not proposing that we ride off into the sunset together or anything.' His lips quirked into a smile. 'I was just supplying a basis for comparison. It seemed like a good way of letting you know I'd be a more than willing candidate. What do you think?'

The wave of disappointment was crushing. So that was all that Oliver was offering. A quick fling with him to see if Greg really made the grade? A legitimate excuse for a happily engaged woman to do a bit of bed-hopping? Oliver Spencer clearly gave no thought to how it might affect anyone else. He was quite prepared to let Sophie hurt her supposed fiancé by being unfaithful so he didn't give a damn about Greg's feelings. If she
was
happily engaged then he would be hurting Sophie at the same time. Did that mean he had no regard for her feelings as well?

Sophie found her bewilderment fading. She felt the raw endings her nerves had been left crystallising into anger.

'Is that what happened to your marriage, Oliver?' she queried coldly. 'Did your wife not stand up to the comparisons you tried?'

Oliver's face tightened enough for Sophie to see that her accusation had hit home. 'My wife was never honest with me,' he stated deliberately. 'She lied about anything and everything.' He snorted softly. 'I never knew. She was so good at lying I didn't find out until she ran off with the man whose baby she was carrying.'

So it hadn't been Oliver's fault that his marriage had failed. That figured. She shouldn't have suggested it had been, but she still felt far too angry to apologise. She met the direct gaze with more courage than she felt. 'I would think that would give you a very good idea of how important faithfulness is in a relationship. And yet here you are, suggesting that I—'

'What it did,' Oliver cut in quietly, 'was teach me how important honesty is in a relationship.'

'Exactly,' Sophie agreed swiftly. 'But you think I should—'

Oliver interrupted again. His voice was still quiet. Almost menacing. 'I think you might be being a little less than honest, Sophie Bennett.' He took a deep breath as he turned away from her. 'Less than honest to me, less than honest to your fiancé and—perhaps more importantly—less than honest to yourself.' He gave her one last glance. 'Think about it.'

Sophie
did think about it.

On Thursday morning she was still furious at Oliver's apparent disregard for her feelings. His...arrogance, that was the only word for it. The man calmly assumed that a kiss from him—an uninvited kiss for that matter—would surpass any experience Sophie had ever had. She had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing how correct his assumption had been. Let him make just one flirtatious remark and she was ready to take Oliver Spencer down a peg or two.

The opportunity didn't arise. The day was a busy one and Dr Spencer seemed intent on presenting a purely professional and carefully constrained facade. Not that anybody else would have noticed a change. It was only Sophie who could be aware that their eye contact was abruptly curtailed and that the cheerful smile seemed to come from behind a clear barrier that filtered out any real warmth. Sophie felt she was being treated like some badly behaved child. She was being punished, very subtly, by a disapproving parent. God! The last thing she needed was another father figure.

Precisely what was she being punished for? she wondered. His suspicion that she wasn't being honest? Or her lack of willingness for not wanting to leap into bed with him whilst—as far as he knew—she was engaged to another man? Maybe he was simply offended that she had turned down the invitation to explore the further delights that the kiss had so convincingly promised. Underneath all that charm Oliver Spencer was probably just like all the rest. Men were all the same. They were only interested in sex.

Maybe
that
was the problem.

By Friday Sophie's anger at Oliver's uninvited assault on her physical senses had given way to shame that she hadn't wanted him to stop. She was just as bad as he was. Another sleepless night gave her a satisfactory explanation of it all. It had to be due to the relentless workload of medical school and house-surgeon rotations, coupled with the fact that she had made a commitment to someone she'd had little time to be with. Sophie had simply been unaware of a physical requirement her body craved. The change in lifestyle and the unexpected compatibility with a colleague had released hormones she was ill equipped to deal with. Hormones that were turning her brain to mush and convincing her that she could be in love with an arrogant brute like Oliver Spencer.