200 Harley Street: The Enigmatic Surgeon. Annie Claydon
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‘Does your husband know where you are?’
‘Yes, he knows. I was hoping that he’d come and see Isaac but he never has.’
Charlotte heaved a sigh. She didn’t need to tell him about the thing that had damned her the most—it didn’t affect the problem at hand. Anyway, it was humiliating.
Even more so than having to admit she was being chased by her husband’s debtors.
She met those blue eyes again. Ever questioning, but not as judgemental as she’d feared.
‘And you said your divorce is in the pipeline?’
‘Yes. I have the Decree Nisi and I’m waiting for the Decree Absolute. I’m hoping that he won’t throw any spanners into the works and put in a last-minute objection.’
‘Do you have any reason to think he will?’
‘No … Maybe … I don’t know. Peter’s not exactly the most predictable of people.’ Charlotte sighed. ‘He’s not strong. He’ll do whatever gets him through the day and forget all about the consequences for tomorrow.’
‘You don’t trust him.’
Damn right she didn’t. She had very little reason to. ‘No, I don’t. The men who called this morning aren’t the only people looking to get paid. I had a telephone call last night from someone who said I owed money for a mobile phone bill.’
‘Do you?’
‘No!’ She was protesting too much again. ‘My phone’s a pay-as-you-go …’
Charlotte reached for her handbag to show him the phone and Edward stopped her, laying his hand on her wrist.
‘It’s okay.’
‘It isn’t. The divorce won’t protect me if he’s managed to raise a line of credit in my name, and I’ve no money to pay off any more of his debts.’
It was as if she and Isaac were being dragged back into the nightmare that she’d worked so hard to get out of, and there was nothing she could do about it. Charlotte gulped back the tears, pulling her hand away from his grasp.
‘What did you tell them?’ He was still calm, almost icy cool. Still focussed on the facts.
Charlotte took a deep breath. She should try to sound a little more grateful, Edward had already helped her more than he had any reason to. ‘I said that I had no knowledge of the account in question and asked them to put everything in writing and send it to me.’
‘Good. We can start making enquiries on Monday. In the meantime, is there anyone that you and Isaac can stay with?’
‘Not really. My parents are dead and I don’t have any brothers or sisters …’ She tried to smile, make light of it, but Charlotte had never felt so alone. ‘We’ll be okay. I’ll take the phone off the hook and lock the door …’
‘You’ll stay here.’ Even Edward seemed surprised at his uncompromising words.
‘No! I mean … Edward, it’s kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t think of it.’
‘What about Isaac? I gather that Sunday mornings are a favourite time for debt collectors to make their calls. He’s old enough to know what’s going on now.’
Low blow. He’d found the spot where her guilt was almost unbearable. ‘I thought he was too young to remember. But when those men called this morning …’
Isaac had understood exactly who they were and had launched himself at them, trying to drive them away, trying to protect her. Charlotte had managed to keep hold of him, and the men had smirked at each other as she bundled him back into the house.
She heard Edward sigh.
‘Look, you need to get yourself and Isaac out of the firing line for a few days, until you have a chance to sort this out. I’ve plenty of room here—there are two spare bedrooms upstairs—and you’ll both be safe.’
He didn’t mince his words, or dress it up to make it sound as if she had a choice, but he was right. She did need to get her son away from this nightmare, and she had nowhere to take him.
‘Charlotte.’
He reached out to her, his finger tipping her chin upwards. His shrewd blue eyes saw straight through her. There were no excuses, no way that she could just fob him off with something.
‘Where else are you going to go?’
HE HADN’T MEANT to be cruel, just to look at the situation rationally. But when she finally gave way to her tears, her forehead sinking until it almost touched the surface of his kitchen table, her body trembling with the effort that it seemed to take her to cry, Edward realised that she wasn’t the only one who was in over her head. He didn’t feel equal to this—not the crying woman at his kitchen table, or the vulnerable child on his sofa—and the knowledge that he was way past the point of dispensing some good advice and leaving them to it wasn’t helping much.
‘Hey.’ He reached out, touching her arm tentatively with the tips of his fingers. ‘Charlotte, please don’t.’
She ignored him, and it had been a stupid thing to say anyway. Charlotte was at perfect liberty to do whatever she wanted. It was him who didn’t want her to cry, because it wrenched his heart so much to see it.
‘Okay. Well, you can cry as much as you like. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it down a bit or Isaac will be in here, blasting me with his ray gun for upsetting you. Which I didn’t mean to do, by the way.’
Her shoulders stopped shaking. Slowly she raised her head. For a moment Edward was unsure about whether she was going to burst into laughter or start crying again. He decided to wait. He’d probably said more than enough already.
‘I’ll pay you rent.’ Her voice was low, a little unsteady, but there was no doubt that she was back in control of herself.
‘No. I won’t accept it.’ She opened her mouth to protest and he silenced her with a look. ‘That’s not negotiable.’
‘I could clean for you.’
‘That’s not going to work either. I have a cleaning lady and there will be hell to pay if you put her out of a job.’
Somehow, from somewhere, she managed to find a smile. It was like basking in a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. ‘I wondered whether it was you who kept all these plants watered.’
‘We have an … understanding. She looks after Archie and the plants, doesn’t move anything that I’m working on, and I keep out of her way and don’t forget to pay her. Works like a dream.’
‘I’m sure it does. Does she cook?’
‘I imagine