The Police Surgeon's Rescue. Abigail Gordon
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Maxine was on her feet faster than the speed of light and, peering up the staircase at the person responsible for the unexpected interruption, she said tightly, ‘And who might that be?’
‘A guest,’ he told her calmly, and to Helena. ‘I’ll be up with it right away, Helena.’
‘So?’ Maxine said when he came back down.
‘Helena is the daughter of my next-door neighbour who died suddenly today. The police called me out when his body was found and I had the unenviable task of breaking the news to her that her father was dead. She is very distraught, needless to say, and I felt that she shouldn’t be alone tonight. Does that satisfy you, Maxine?’
‘I suppose so,’ she said tartly, ‘but I’m not going to stay and chat with someone listening upstairs.’
‘You flatter yourself if you think Helena will be interested in anything we might have to say after the sort of day she’s had.’
‘Nevertheless I’m going,’ she said, ‘and don’t forget we have a practice meeting arranged for after morning surgery tomorrow.’
‘I’m not likely to forget,’ he told her drily. ‘I was the one who arranged it.’
There were three partners at the practice—himself, Maxine, who had come highly recommended from a practice that he’d since discovered had been glad to see her go, and Darren Scott, a young, recently qualified GP.
Darren and Maxine didn’t get on too well as she was always criticising him instead of offering encouragement, and Blake was left to keep the peace. The rest of the staff were a hard-working, contented lot and for most of the time there was harmony.
He’d started working for the police twelve months previously and from the beginning had pledged himself to help those of the public, whether innocent or guilty, who found themselves in a cell because they were suspected of breaking the law.
His duty was to protect them from harming themselves or anyone else, and if a prisoner was taken ill to be there to see that they received proper treatment. There would be no deaths in the cells if he could help it.
His relations with the police were good. They knew they could rely on him to turn up when sent for and that his findings would be meticulously passed on to them.
* * *
When Blake had brought her the sedative Helena said apologetically, ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you had a visitor.’
He smiled.
‘Think nothing of it. Maxine Fielding is one of my partners from the practice. She won’t be staying long and as soon as she’s gone I shall be turning in myself. Remember, Helena, if you need anything in the night you have only to call.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she said gratefully and turned her face into the pillow, wishing that she didn’t look so ghastly and that she wasn’t wearing the shapeless pyjamas.
* * *
Helena cried out in the night and Blake went to her. As he soothed her back to sleep he saw the sedative was on the bedside table. She was a nurse, he thought, and would know that no matter what she took to help her sleep she would awake to desolation in the morning. Clawing her way out of the same kind of black hole that he’d crawled out of every morning for a long time after Anna and young Jason had been killed in a car crash on the school run on a bright spring morning three years ago.
He still had his dark days but time did heal. It wasn’t just a platitude that was trotted out to help the grieving. Gradually the pain eased and if one was lucky only the happy memories remained.
Hopefully that was how it would be for his unexpected visitor, only in her case there’d been fear to cope with, too.
* * *
When he awoke in the morning Helena had gone. She’d found an empty envelope and had written on the back of it, ‘Have gone home. There is much to sort out. Thank you for last night, Blake. I hope I didn’t disturb you too much as I know you have a busy day ahead. Best regards, Helena.’
As she’d been writing the note her face had been burning. She’d known that he’d held her some time during the night, but she’d been too exhausted and traumatised for it to register properly, and in the light of day she hadn’t been able to believe that she’d let her nightmares be soothed away by a man she’d only known a matter of hours. Yet it hadn’t felt like that. It had been as if she’d known him always.
For the rest of the day she tried to keep busy. A police sergeant and a young constable called in the middle of the morning and told her that they were making sure that the newspapers printed an account of her father’s death. That should finally wrap up his connection with the Kelsall case, they told her, and surprised her by saying that it was at Dr Pemberton’s suggestion.
As she tried to force a sandwich down at midday Helena began to wonder about his visitor of the night before. The aggressive-looking blonde with the cold grey eyes had glared up at her as if she’d been about to steal the silver, and she wondered if they were a couple. She hoped not. Blake Pemberton deserved better than that. Much better.
She was humbly grateful that he’d agreed to attend her father’s funeral with her. For the moment she couldn’t think any further than that. But once it was over it would be decision time, and of one thing she was certain—she wasn’t staying in this house.
Maybe she could find something in nursing over here with accommodation thrown in. The authorities in the UK were always saying there was a shortage of nurses. It might be the time to test the water.
* * *
The practice meeting in the late morning was going smoothly enough, with the manager announcing that they were meeting their budget and Blake’s two partners for once not bickering. But it took a downward turn when a letter from one of the two practice nurses was read out, asking that she be permitted to leave at the end of the following week. No reason was given but most of the staff were aware that she’d just found herself a new man, a Welshman, and wanted to move to Wales to be with him.
‘Shall I advertise?’ the practice manager asked, and Blake shook his head.
‘Let’s leave it for a few days,’ he suggested. ‘I might know of a replacement. If nothing comes of it we’ll advertise then.’
It would be one way of keeping an eye on Helena, he was thinking. Purely from a protective point of view…of course. Not for any other reason. She’d felt so fine-boned and vulnerable both times he’d held her close that he knew he would be on edge if she was out of his sight in the weeks to come.
He was worried because she had no one to turn to but himself. Yet wasn’t he in a similar position? But he had a lot more going for him. He had the practice, his job with the police and his own home. In other words, plenty to occupy him…
As they left the meeting to go out on their calls Blake was waylaid by Maxine.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘Has she gone?’