him to her son. But as a vision of Harry Balfour awkwardly holding Marcus safe and secure in his arms came to mind, she thought that she’d only known him for a similar length of time, yet she would trust him with her child.
When she arrived at her next call, pulling up in front of the biggest farmhouse in the area, Phoebe was amazed to see the man who had been in her thoughts getting out of the brand-new red convertible he’d had delivered to the surgery that morning. The question was immediately there in her mind—was he checking up on her?
It seemed that he wasn’t. Harry was already ringing the bell and called across to her, ‘Well timed. We have an emergency.’
She was out of her car in a flash and hurried to the door, wondering what could be wrong at Wheatlands Farm.
She visited the place every week to put a fresh dressing on a varicose ulcer that was plaguing old George Enderby, the patriarch of the family. As far as she was aware, that was the only thing wrong with the cheerful old guy, but if what Harry was saying was correct…
‘Is it George that you’re here about?’ she asked as footsteps pounded towards them from inside the house.
He shook his head. ‘No. A call came through to the surgery to say his daughter-in-law Pamela had fallen downstairs early this morning and almost knocked herself senseless with a crack to her head. She was soon back working on the farm, until a few minutes ago when suddenly she didn’t seem to know where she was.’
The door was being wrenched open as he spoke and George’s son Ian was there, his face taut with anxiety.
‘Thanks for coming so quickly, Harry,’ he said urgently. ‘I wasn’t expecting us to be renewing our acquaintance so soon. Pamela is upstairs resting with a huge bump on her head and isn’t very coherent.’
‘So let’s have a look, then,’ he said briskly, adding to Phoebe, ‘Come along, Nurse, you can see to your patient when we’ve sorted Mrs Enderby out.’
The swelling on Pamela Enderby’s head was huge and soft to the touch and her eyes weren’t functioning properly. Neither was her mind as Harry gently tried to get her to answer a few simple questions rationally.
Turning to her husband, he said in a low voice, ‘There is almost certainly bleeding inside the skull.’ He turned to Phoebe. ‘Phone for an ambulance, Nurse, and stress the urgency, while I check the patient’s heartbeat and pulse.’
She was about to confirm that the emergency services were hastening on their way when he said tightly, ‘Pamela’s gone into a coma.’ He placed his stethoscope against her chest. ‘There’s no heartbeat! Get ready to resuscitate!’
Together they worked on the patient until the ambulance arrived and paramedics stepped in with a defibrillator and then a faint rising and falling of the injured woman’s chest indicated that she was back with them.
Her husband had watched their efforts with tears streaming down his face and as the ambulance was leaving, with him by her side and a paramedic monitoring her heartbeat, he said raggedly, ‘Whatever the outcome of this, I will never forget what the two of you did back there.’
Before they could reply, he was gone with flashing lights and sirens wailing to warn other road users that the vehicle was carrying someone seriously ill or injured.
‘That was good teamwork, Phoebe,’ Harry said with one of his rare smiles when it had disappeared from sight.
It registered that he’d actually said her name, but there was no time for further thought as elderly George, the patient she’d originally come to see, appeared beside them looking distraught and decidedly unsteady on his feet.
‘I’ve kept out of the way,’ he said breathing heavily. ‘At my age I’m no good in a crisis. So what’s the verdict, Harry?’
‘Not too good at this moment, George,’ the doctor told him gently. ‘They will have to operate to control a brain haemorrhage. But she is still with us, so why don’t you let me make you a cup of tea while Nurse Howard changes the dressing on your leg? Or would you prefer a brandy under the circumstances?’
‘Yes, I would,’ he replied. ‘My heart isn’t too good and the last thing my son needs is me cracking up at a time like this.’ He was gazing out at the immaculate farm buildings and the land that belonged to them stretching as far as the eye could see. ‘All of this is great, Harry,’ he said brokenly, ‘but it means nothing when a life is at stake.’
Harry nodded understandingly. The Enderbys were obviously very wealthy, but the old guy had his priorities right.
‘Can I leave you to see to George?’ he asked Phoebe. ‘I left patients waiting to see me when I dashed over here.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she told him, adding as he turned to go, ‘It was great working with you.’
The reluctant smile was back and she thought if he kept it up, he might actually manage a laugh one day. To her amazement he replied, ‘It was good to have you assisting me, Nurse Howard.’ And then he was gone to face the sighs and fidgets of those awaiting his presence in the surgery.
Having dealt with George’s dressing and left him in the charge of the farm’s housekeeper, Phoebe continued her home visits. When she arrived back at the surgery late in the afternoon, keen to see if the rapport between herself and Harry was still there or just a momentary thing, she found him closeted with one patient after another and it was still so when she left to pick Marcus up at the nursery.
With the tooth now through, he was back to his usual state of contentment, greeting her with a big smile and a happy gurgle, and in that moment the other part of her life took over. He was all she had, and if that was how it was always going to be, she wasn’t going to complain. She’d made her choice when she split up with Darren and had no regrets about that.
Chapter Three
WHILE Phoebe was feeding and bathing Marcus before settling him down for sleep, it was the same as the night before—she was listening for footsteps on the stairs to let her know that Harry’s day at the practice was also over. This time she didn’t have long to wait.
She heard him come up just as her baby’s eyelids were closing, his dark lashes sweeping downwards and his small chest rising and falling steadily. Ridiculously, this time she wanted Harry to knock on her door so that she could see if the time they’d spent together with Pamela Enderby had really been as satisfying for him as it had been for her. His unexpected presence last night had also shown her another side to him that she wanted to see again.
Disappointed when she heard his door close behind him, she began to clear up after bathtime and was debating whether to get out the paint cans and brushes once more when the sound she’d been hoping for finally came.
While he’d been putting a ready meal in the oven to heat up, Harry had been debating whether it would be pushing it too far if he called on Phoebe again. Yet he felt he had to. It was going to be a frosty night and while her apartment had been warm enough the night before, it definitely was not as warm as his, and there was a spare mobile heater in his hall that he wanted to give her just in case. He wouldn’t be able to settle if he hadn’t offered it to her on such a cold night.
The
