down the passageway. She couldn’t follow him dressed in only her robe. ‘I’m sorry, I was rude and ungracious.’
Charlie stopped long enough to turn and see her in the doorway. Her messy hair, the spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her pretty amber eyes that looked genuinely remorseful. He was grateful that she had sent him walking. It was for the best. She was too close to exactly what he didn’t have room for in his life. And definitely didn’t deserve. A pretty, intelligent woman with a fighting spirit. And a daughter who was cute as a button.
‘Apology accepted. I’ll see you at the hospital later, then. I’ve an opening at one-thirty if you would like to meet. We need to schedule in the surgery, brief the theatre team and then book another pre-op consultation as soon as possible.’
His tone was brusque and he didn’t wait for a reply as Juliet watched him disappear out of sight. She closed her bedroom door and raced to the window with Bea in tow. Pulling back the heavy damask curtains to see him emerge from the building and climb onto the shiny black bike that he had parked in the small guest car park. He pulled down his helmet, and turned his head. Nervously she dropped the curtains before he saw her watching him. It appeared Dr Charlie Warren, intentionally or unintentionally, was going to make her second day in the Cotswolds as confusing as the first.
Charlie rode away but not before he noticed Juliet looking from her window. He saw in his rear-view mirror that she had closed the curtains as quickly as she had opened them. While he had accepted her apology he couldn’t help but wonder as he headed along the leafy streets on his way to Teddy’s what had made the Australian specialist so quickly think the worst of him.
Admittedly, the previous day he had been the one to jump to conclusions, and perhaps had not been his professional best at the consultation, but he had apologised for both. And to make amends and let her know that he would not challenge the Abbiatis’ decision he had driven over to tell her in person. But once he’d known that neither Bea nor Juliet had eaten, it had felt natural to offer a shared brunch.
As he rounded the next corner, he told himself that it was his olive branch. But there was more to it and, as he righted himself on the large motorbike before the next curve, he silently accepted that Juliet had broken through his tough exterior shell. She had made him think of more than work. More than the mothers and the babies and the families he was helping to create. In twenty-four hours she and Bea had reminded him of all those things he’d wanted and dreamed of before the accident. Before the loss of his wife made him lose hope in the future.
But her reaction to his reaching out was unexpected. Shooting him down by questioning his motives.
Was it jet lag or was Juliet Turner always on the defensive? He wasn’t sure but, with his hand on the throttle, he rode a little faster than usual. Although Charlie had grown up in the stunning Cotswolds countryside, he appreciated the architecture and landscape that defined the part of England he called home, but not that day. Instead of noticing the Regency town houses and their intricate ironwork balconies and painted stucco façades or the rolling green hills that were blanketed in pristine snow, he could only picture Juliet’s face as he travelled back to work. Equally confused about what made Juliet so quick to judge…and what had really driven him to deliver the news in person.
Juliet knocked on the door. The brass plate read Dr Charlie Warren, OBGYN. She was in the right place.
‘Come in.’
Juliet opened the door and entered with mixed emotions. She was thrilled that the surgery would take place and the quads would in her opinion have the best chance of survival, but her behaviour at the hotel a few hours earlier still bothered her. And underneath she knew that was because Charlie Warren was affecting her and she was confused and scared.
But despite those feelings unnerving her, the fact the obstinate but handsome OBGYN had reached out to her made her feel a little special. Perhaps that was why she took extra time to choose her outfit. A long black knitted dress that hugged her slim hips. It had a roll collar and she had added a silver necklace and a black patent boot with a medium height heel. It was her smart apology outfit, she told herself. The previous day’s travelling clothes were for comfort and that morning he had seen her in her pyjamas so she wanted to show a level of professionalism in her dressing. There was no other reason for her to wear the figure-hugging dress.
The tight knit also kept her warm. Cheltenham was a cold place. That was all.
How could there be any other reason? It certainly wasn’t to impress Charlie Warren the man.
‘Hello, Juliet. Please take a seat. I won’t be a moment. I’m just emailing through a medical report to a GP in London.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she sat in the chair opposite him.
Juliet took the time to let her gaze wander around the office. But there was nothing telling about any of it. No personal belongings that jumped out and showed her a little about Charlie. No photos, just a couple of certificates that provided evidence of his qualifications. Without appearing nosey, she searched from her vantage point for something that would let her know more about him. There was nothing. No hint. It appeared that Dr Warren had no life outside his work…or if he did he was hiding it.
‘‘I have taken the liberty of booking the operating theatre,’ he began as he turned his attention to Juliet. ‘And also confirming with the Abbiatis that the surgery will be on Friday.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, I’m just extending a professional courtesy on behalf of the board.’
Juliet frowned. His change in demeanour was extraordinary. But she knew she had been the cause. Her earlier reaction was cold and dismissive and just plain rude.
‘Juliet, don’t misread my actions for a change of mind. It isn’t. I still don’t think that surgery is the best option and, while I will not raise the issue again with the parents as they have made their decision, I still have grave concerns.’
‘Well, I’m grateful that we can agree at least to provide a united front even if behind the scenes there is still a great divide.’
Juliet noticed a flick in his jaw. Finely covered with dark blond shadow, it was defined but tense.
‘A very great divide.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘Because I know you have experience in TTTS and this procedure, your papers prove it, but you have never, according to my research, undertaken this with quads.’
‘I have with triplets,’ she argued.
‘Once,’ he returned. ‘I read your notes.’
‘Yes, once, but successfully and I am not operating on all four. Only two of the four are involved.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. You’re exposing all four to a risk.’
‘I agree but the benefits outweigh the risk—’
‘I don’t agree with that rationale. You’re risking all four babies to save one and even success with that foetus is not guaranteed.
