of you?’
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Nick turned away to stare out of the window. ‘My relationships with all three of them haven’t been easy.’
‘No.’ Kate resisted pointing out that he was largely to blame for that. It wouldn’t help the current situation. ‘The person who most concerns me is Jeremiah. He’s only a child. I don’t want him hurt.’
‘I repeat, what do you want?’ he challenged, swinging back to face her, his expression fierce.
Kate held her ground. ‘I have no intention of making demands on you, or of publicly outing you as Jem’s father. If you would like to spend more time getting to know him until you decide what you want to do, that’s fine with me, but I won’t have him hurt, used or tossed aside if it gets too much.’ Taking advantage of Nick’s continued silence, she pressed on. ‘At work, I want you to at least be civil. It isn’t fair on the other staff, or the patients, that you treat me like a pariah. Today was embarrassing for everyone, especially Chloe and Oliver. And it isn’t right for people like the Trevellyans and the Fiddicks that you put our personal business before their medical needs. They are your patients, Nick. We have to see their journeys through with them, even if you cut back some of your other antenatal work for patients not on your list. We’re adults. We made adult decisions, adult choices, adult mistakes. We have to bear the consequences like adults,’ she finished, the fight draining out of her.
A muscle pulsed along Nick’s jaw and he evaded her gaze. They stood in tense silence for several moments until Kate could bear it no longer. Her shoulders slumped. She knew him well enough of old to know he wasn’t about to unbend, not until he had time to think things over for himself. If only she didn’t still care for him, if she didn’t still love him, despite all their ups and downs and all that had happened in their years of friendship.
‘Think about it, Nick,’ she advised quietly. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
She was shaking, her pulse racing from the fraught encounter, as she walked back towards the centre of the village. Finally she was passing the library and approaching the cluster of six cottages known as Fisherman’s Row, which occupied the last of the space before the harbour bridge and the turning to Bridge Street. Forcing back the threat of tears, she stopped outside one of the colourful old cottages and rang Chloe’s doorbell.
With Jem safely occupied, kicking a ball around the small enclosed garden at the rear of her cottage, Chloe dried her hands and went to answer the front door.
‘Hi,’ she greeted, stepping back to let Kate enter, noticing the glisten of unshed tears in her brown eyes and the paleness of her face, presumably evidence of her recent encounter with Nick. ‘Come on in. I’ve just made some fresh lemonade.’
‘OK.’
‘Jem’s out at the back. He’s been fine. He wore Pirate and Cyclops out in no time,’ Chloe chattered on, gesturing to the two cats curled up asleep side by side in an armchair.
Kate managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Chloe. For everything.’
‘No problem.’ Returning the smile, she poured two glasses of the ice-cold, tangy drink and handed one to her friend. ‘Would you like to sit a while?’
‘That would be good.’
They chose chairs by the open doors, watching Jem play outside. Chloe curbed her nosiness but couldn’t help wondering what had happened when Kate had visited Nick. It seemed clear that Kate didn’t want to talk about it, however. Nick was a wonderful doctor, but he could be difficult, and he was known to be rigid in his opinions. Chloe ached for her friend and the predicament she now found herself in.
Kate had recently taken her into her confidence about Nick being Jem’s father and, whilst she didn’t know the circumstances of how it had all come about, she knew how much her friend fretted over it and felt guilty. Chloe could understand how Nick felt at not being told before, but she could also understand Kate’s point of view. Although Kate had always been staunch in her friendship and support, Nick often appeared to take her for granted and not appreciate all she did, for the practice and for him. If both of them had felt guilty for their aberration all those years ago, and then both had needed to deal with bereavement at different times, it couldn’t have been easy for Kate to know what to do for the best.
‘Chloe?’
‘Hmm?’ Feeling relaxed, she leaned back in the chair and sipped her drink.
‘Why did you let Oliver think you had a date tonight?’
Surprised at Kate’s question, Chloe faced her. ‘I’d made arrangements with you.’
‘I could easily have changed my plans.’
‘But why?’ She frowned in confusion. ‘Oliver probably just wanted to talk about work after our meeting. I told him we’d discuss it next week.’
Kate laughed. ‘That’s not at all what he wanted, Chloe!’
‘It isn’t?’
‘No, my love!’ Shaking her head, Kate reached out and patted her arm with amused tolerance. ‘Oliver’s interested in you.’
A prickle of breathless apprehension rippled through Chloe. ‘Excuse me?’
‘As a woman. Chloe…’ She sighed, her smile reflecting both affection and a hint of exasperation. ‘I know you don’t think of yourself that way, but you are a woman. A beautiful woman. And Oliver has noticed.’
‘He can’t have!’
Laughing again but kindly, Kate finished her lemonade. ‘Oliver reminds me of my late husband, James, when he was that age. The whole sexy surfer image and the warm charm, but with that underlying kindness and honesty.’
‘But what am I going to do?’ Chloe fretted, with increasing alarm.
‘It’s a new experience for you, I know, but why not try it?’ Surprisingly calm in comparison to her own raging emotions, Kate’s voice was gentle with understanding. ‘Spend time with Oliver. Get to know him. You might find you enjoy being with him.’
With the heavy weight of her past preying on her mind, holding her in chains, Chloe stared at her friend, speechless with shock. How could Kate even suggest such a thing?
‘Oh, Chloe, my love!’ Chuckling, Kate set down her empty glass. ‘You should see your face!’ Sobering, the older woman reached out and took her hand. ‘I know a little about your past, but maybe this is the perfect time for you to finally put it behind you. I hate to see you missing out on such a big part of life. Outward images can be deceptive. There’s so much more to Oliver. Don’t judge him on rumour. He could be the perfect man to teach you to be a woman in the fullest sense of the word—the real woman you are inside—if only you would let him.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘HELLO, Oliver.’
At the sound of the female voice behind him, Oliver turned from scanning the crowds at Penhally’s Saturday morning farmers’market and met Lauren Nightingale’s slate-grey gaze. Tall, athletic and curvy, she was attractive, with an engaging smile, her long, light brown hair glowing lighter under the summer sunshine. Excellent at her job, the thirty year old was renowned for
