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Authors: Jill Barry

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She turned towards
Keir, seated behind her on the platform. “I’d like to hand back to you here, Dr Harrison,” she said. “I’m sure there’ll be more questions for you.”

He rose and was at her side in two
paces. Lightly he placed an arm around her shoulders. The affectionate gesture was a heart-stopping one and Andrea felt momentarily as if she’d stepped out of real life.

“I think we’d all like you to stay just where you are, Dr Palmer,” he said. “I doubt conference is going to let you go without knowing how your mother has reacted to her first couple of sessions.”

Andrea felt a glow, which she wasn’t sure, was caused by the supportive words or by the casual but comforting pressure of his arm. When he removed it, she felt a twinge of regret. But the consultant was a showman. He was presenting the pair of them as a strong team and she happily played along.

The questions kept coming. She answered honestly. She answered as a daughter, not doctor. Then, to her relief,
Keir glanced at the brass-rimmed old clock on the wall. “That’s it for today, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your attention and for your very astute questions. Refreshments await you next door, after which there’s a talk by a member of the drugs’ company research team. Unmissable, in my opinion.”

Andrea sank back in her chair. “Phew,” she said. “I thought they’d never stop. Talk about a grilling! You were superb.”

“It’s a mutual admiration society, as far as I’m concerned. You swayed them in our favour if I’m not mistaken. Among them, they probably possess more street cred than the Royal College of Surgeons.”

“Thank you for inviting me to Montreal,” she said suddenly. “I’m so pleased I came. I really mean that,
Keir.”

He cleared his throat and turned to face her. For a moment she wondered if he was about to put his arms around her. But he busied himself, gathering his notes into their folder and hurriedly, she followed suit.

“I’d better show my face out there,” he said. “There were several people I recognised in the audience – time to go and talk shop.”

She stood up. “I want to hear the next speaker so I’ll grab a quick cuppa and see you in a while then.”

It seemed to her he couldn’t move away fast enough - which meant of course, she’d been right in thinking that little show of comradeship and even affection had been intended as a crowd-pleaser. The thought acted like a douche of cold water on her high spirits.

Andrea followed
Keir out of the conference hall, wondering why she felt such a pang of regret. Hadn’t she already advised him as far as she was concerned, their relationship was simply one of colleagues and friends?

*
**

She barely got a glimpse of him throughout the rest of the day. During the refreshment break, delegates kept coming up and greeting her as if she was a part of their lives. Business cards were pressed into her hand and questions posed about her academic research and as to whether she missed the hurly burly of a practising GP’s life. More than one confessed to their
feelings over dealing with the care of an elderly parent. The same thing happened as she left the final morning session. She tried her best to answer everything truthfully before heading for the washroom.

On her return she glanced around and noticed
Keir deep in conversation with a striking woman who wore her shiny, jet-black hair in a swinging bob. Andrea saw Keir’s companion place one hand upon his jacket sleeve and deliberately kept her distance. No way did she want to interrupt. She joined the queue for the buffet and began helping herself to a tempting seafood salad just as Pierre appeared at the opposite side of the table, balancing a well-loaded tray.

“Dr Andrea Palmer, may I steal you away from all this? Before your fan club realises?”

She chuckled. “I’d love your company over lunch, Pierre. Keir knows so many more people than I do. Not that I’ve noticed anyone being unfriendly,” she added hastily. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her Keir now in conversation with a couple of men. There was no sign of the elegant woman.

“Unfriendly? I should hope not, indeed,” said Pierre. “I’m sure any one of these folk would trample me into the deep pile carpet for the pleasure of eating lunch with you. But I got here first.” He grinned at her. “I’ve laid claim to that table for two over there.” He pointed to his jacket draped over one of the chairs. “Come and join me when you’re ready.” He moved away, carefully clutching his tray of goodies.

Andrea chose from the tempting array of food, heaping salad beside a slice of quiche but then being tempted by a golden-crusted cherry pie. She hesitated and ladled a generous dollop of cream on top. She’d been rushing around burning up calories for months now. Suddenly she was hungry, properly hungry, and not in the least fazed by the generous Canadian portions.

“Please don’t get up,” she said as she approached Pierre’s table. “Aha - I’m glad to see you’ve chosen a dessert too. I shan’t feel quite so much like Miss Piggy.”

He heaved an elaborate sigh. “Mark my words, dinner tonight will be clear soup and fresh fruit. My lovely Lisa is only too aware of my bad habits when I’m away from home.” His eyes twinkled.

“So how did
Keir and I come across to everyone?” Andrea sipped her apricot juice.

“You don’t need me to tell you that,” he teased. “You know very well you two have been a major hit. You are, of course, much more beautiful than he is.”

She waved her fork at him. “The other speakers have been excellent, in my opinion.”

“Yes and I’m all for having several short sessions. I’m looking forward to this afternoon too.”

“Goodness, don’t tell me you’re prepared to put up with me again?” She pretended mock horror.

“I might just manage it,” he said. “I already read your paper on how different cultures view the ageing process. But the real reason I wanted to spend time with you in private was to ask if Lisa and I have managed to put our collective feet in it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m talking about last night at dinner, when we invited you and your son to come and stay with us.” He speared a chunk of spicy chicken and munched. “Hey, great food again … anyway, I noticed
Keir was looking kind of uptight last night. Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but that made me wonder if you and he were an item. Or if he has hopes you might be, so felt miffed not to be included in our invitation. Not that he said anything about it,” he added. “He has an open invitation anyway. Hell, but I’m making a complete mess of this. Lisa will kill me.”


Keir and me an item? No way,” she said. “I may be single, but I’m not about to have a fling with a married man. Even if I was seriously on the lookout for male company, which I’m not, it’s far too soon after being widowed.”

Pierre put down his fork and reached for his water glass. “Andrea, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how sorry I am to hear of your loss. Nor do I mean to offend you. Lisa and I genuinely enjoyed your company last night and we’d love to see more of you and to meet young Josh, of course.”

He pursed his lips. “Now, how exactly can I put this? Um, just how, I wonder, did you get the idea that Keir’s a married man?”

She stared at him. “Well he must be, surely?”

“Once upon a time, yes,” said Pierre. “But he very definitely went through a painful divorce. His former wife and their daughter live in the States now.”

Andrea frowned. “When Lisa and I were talking last night, she told me
Keir had mentioned my being widowed. But she didn’t say anything about his being single.”

“She probably thought you already knew. Maybe
Keir doesn’t like talking about it. All I can say is Connie definitely remarried but if Keir has taken a new wife, he’s certainly not told me about her.”

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

The hotel bar that evening seethed with delegates booked into the King George and determined to enjoy their leisure after a full day. Andrea would have been happy to order room service and sample Canadian TV programmes in the comfort of her own luxurious bed but
Keir wanted her to network. She’d hardly exchanged a word with him since their joint session that morning and was totally unprepared for the jolt of pleasure exploding in her stomach as she stood in the doorway of the sumptuous Versailles Bar and saw him turn around to meet her gaze.

Those words, so vehemently spoken to Pierre at lunchtime, returned to haunt her. What nonsense to think she could contemplate dating another man when she still clung to the memory of Greg whom she’d loved so much. How hypocritical would that be, if she should ignore what she knew to be right and allow her stupid, faithless heart to rule her head? Anyway, why had he not told her he was no longer married?

Telling herself to behave like a mature woman instead of a besotted teenager, she composed her features as Keir approached.

“Here you are,” he said, gently cupping her elbow. “I’d like to introduce you to a couple of people who haven’t yet had a chance to speak to you. And let me get you a drink. White wine OK?”

Andrea nodded, her gaze taking in the elegant décor, the secluded corner tables designed surely with assignations in mind. Lush sapphire blue drapes made an excellent backdrop for the striped emerald and cream of the seat cushions. She let herself be drawn into conversation with yet another pair of charming doctors, concentrating on answering their questions as best she could. One, who reminded her of a younger Hugh Grant and who was based in Toronto, made no secret of his scepticism concerning Keir’s theory. He seemed determined to wear down her resistance but Andrea, equally determined to convince him, upped her game, counter-arguing and eventually leaving the Toronto medic searching for words.

“Game, set and match to Dr Palmer, I think,”
Keir said. “Tom, I take on board your concerns but all I can say is, let’s see what results the trial produces, OK? Just now, I could use some dinner. Shall we go through?”

Andrea had already checked the seating plan outside the restaurant. The various speakers were each allocated places at different tables. She turned to her adversary. “You and I are placed next to each other, Tom. What say we call a truce?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, smiling back. “How are you on ice hockey stats?”

Andrea laughed out loud. “Rubbish, as well you know. You talk ice hockey and I’ll talk tennis.” As she walked away from the bar, chatting with Toronto Tom, as she’d privately named him, she knew
Keir’s eyes were focused on her. But his slightly proprietorial attitude was probably all to do with their joint conference presentation. It would be good to spend time not talking shop, especially with someone she’d only just met and with whom she knew enjoyed a spirited discussion.

Andrea looked forward to her dinner and hopefully to a not too late night. She’d managed to make a quick call to
Kirsty during the afternoon break and everything was fine. She’d smiled to herself as Josh excitedly told her what he’d been doing, without letting her get a word in. Obviously a boring grownup function didn’t rate against an ongoing spaceship voyage with tentacle-waving monsters attacking from every direction. Her mind remained very much at rest because Kirsty was also her first point of contact for Lizzie Dean while Andrea was out of the country. Her friend had reported no problems back home in Hartnett either.

Andrea’s unpredictable emotions were unwelcome
gatecrashers. But that was something only she herself could deal with. The fleeting rushes of joy when she caught Keir’s eye and felt the flare of intimate connection weren’t experiences for confiding. Maybe, just maybe, she’d let it all out to Kirsty once she was back home again. Hopefully her friend would comfort her by saying such an attraction was perfectly understandable. After years of marriage to a lovely guy like Greg, maybe subconsciously she sought a masculine shoulder to cry on? Especially as she now knew Keir was, according to his friend Pierre, unattached. Who was she kidding? The buzz between them had begun well before she found out Keir was single.

She tuned into Toronto Tom’s explanation of the Canadian passion for ice hockey, trying hard to listen and ask intelligent questions. It wasn’t easy, given all she knew of the sport involved a mass of ice and a small ball, but it seemed safer an option than allowing personal feelings to overwhelm her and send her spiralling back into a dangerous dream world.

***

Next morning,
Keir challenged himself to swim lengths in the hotel pool, part of the beautiful spa complex his PA had sighed over. One side of the pool opened on to a terrace and sunken garden, sunshine lighting the azure tiles. Light classical music floated from concealed speakers. It was still horribly early by his home standards yet he swam in company with two other guests until he became aware of a fourth person jumping into the crystal clear water. When he reached his target number of lengths he stopped and lay back in the shallows, toes anchoring him to the poolside.

The female swimmer, hair tucked into white bathing cap, possessed a mean backstroke,
Keir noted. She ploughed down the pool towards him as if her life depended on it. Would she stop or would she execute a classy turnaround and set off again?

“Hey,” he said good-naturedly as she arrived at the end of the neighbouring lane. “I like your style.”

“Good morning,” said Andrea, touching base with her feet. “No way could I keep up with you. Five lengths is my limit today.”

“But that’s great. Does your little boy swim?”

“Yes,” she said shortly. “I must get back upstairs. See you at breakfast, Keir.”

She waded towards the steps and climbed out of the pool, picking up her towel from a lounger. If she gave him a backward glance, he didn’t know. He was desperately trying to avoid looking up at her. She wore a sleek red swimsuit which clung in all the right places. It would have been unprofessional of him to treat Dr Palmer as anything more than a colleague, but how he’d longed to pull that unflattering rubber helmet off her head and release those kitten-purr soft strands of hair.

You’re going gaga, Harrison, he raged. Will you never learn? It was so ironic, after the mistakes he’d made in his first marriage. Now, not only older but hopefully a little wiser too, here he was, discovering the first woman since his divorce he felt affinity with was out of his reach. Once the trial concluded, they probably wouldn’t see much of each other as their careers progressed. Maybe that would be a good thing. But while still here in Montreal, with no meet and greet dinner on the agenda once the conference closed after lunch, he felt determined to do his utmost to show her a few features of the city he loved.

Keir
hauled himself from the water and reached for his robe and flip-flops. As he rode the lift to his floor, he wondered whether, if he asked Andrea to join him later, he could convince her of his wish to be her colleague and hopefully, friend. Sometimes he felt this could be achievable; other times, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and show his love could still be hers. Even though he knew she still hurt after the loss of a man he could never dream to emulate, surely she would let him into her heart if he insisted there were no strings attached to his motives? A pearl of pool water rolled like a tear down his cheek.

**
*

Andrea took yet another picture of a cute black squirrel.

“Didn’t you capture that little guy just now?” Keir teased.

“Yes but he wasn’t tucking into his lunch then,” she said.

“Well, I hate to drag you away but we should take the Metro if you want to fit in a couple of hours at the Biodome.”

She stuffed her camera into her shoulder bag. “I know it can only be a flying visit but Josh will be much more interested in hearing about the animals than learning about architecture and maritime history.”

Keir led the way back to the entrance. “And you can catch up with some shopping later.”

“I can’t believe the conference is over and we’re heading back tomorrow. Everything seems to have happened so quickly.”

“I don’t want to talk shop, Andrea. But you’ve been a tremendous support to me. I do mean that. It’s not just professional schmoozing.”

She avoided his gaze. “Thank you.”

“The snag is there’ll be a lot of people watching out for us now. They’ll be waiting for us to post good results. They’ll be ready to praise and ready to commiserate.”

“No pressure then!” She pouted.

He took hold of her elbow. “Enough already. Let’s cross here then hop on the metro.”

The light pressure of his fingers upon her arm felt comforting. It was precisely this sort of considerate gesture from a man that, after years of being partnered, she missed so much. She tried to ignore the tingles flying down her spine when
Keir’s fingers touched her body. Knew she mustn’t read anything into his courteousness. He’d be exactly the same with any woman he escorted, of that she was certain.

***

“I’m quite happy to go shopping on my own”’ she said later when they arrived back at the hotel. “Even I can’t get lost if I just have to use the subway to descend to the depths. Besides, you’d be bored out of your skull.”

“Well, if you’re sure” he said. “I’m going to check at the desk for messages then go for another swim. In case I’m not up early enough tomorrow.”

He checked his watch. “If you’d rather eat on your own this evening, please say, but there’s a great place I know within easy walking distance. I shall go there anyway but it’d be more enjoyable if you came too.”

She hesitated. This was the last evening in Montreal and tomorrow the hours would count down as they travelled to the airport to catch their London flight. It might be the last chance she got to eat in a classy restaurant for a very long while. Why visit a fast food outlet in solitary state or shut herself away in her room with a tray and the TV for company when she could dine with an attractive male companion?

He was waiting for her answer, his expression slightly anxious. The powerful consultant, poised on the brink of a momentous breakthrough in medical science, stood waiting to see if she’d join him for dinner. In the words of her friend, Kirsty, wasn’t it a no-brainer?

“I’d like that,” she said. “I’ll do my retail therapy for a couple of hours then get changed and meet you down here in the foyer?”

She hadn’t noticed before how his smile could light up his face, take away the little worry lines and melt the tension from his jaw. At that moment, Andrea almost raised her hand to touch his cheek but somehow resisted to encourage the powerful attraction sizzling between them. To stay out of trouble, she forced herself to turn away, completely forgetting her manners.

“Hey,” he called after her. “We haven’t fixed a time. Is 6.30 too early?”

“It’s fine,” she replied, feeling warmth flood her cheeks.

“Enjoy the shops,” he said.

She had a feeling he remained there, watching her walk away from him, but she forced herself not to look back. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her thoughts fixed on the new dress she’d promised herself as a reward for not collapsing like an unset jelly when she made her presentation. Even one glance over her shoulder would surely be interpreted by Keir as flirtation?

***

Before she descended, Andrea sent black squirrel photos to Kirsty’s phone and texted a message saying everything was fine. Now she wandered a retailing wonderland with so much choice, she found difficulty knowing where to plunge in. The brightly lit mall offered everything from chunky woollens and fur-trimmed leather gilets to slinky dresses in rainbow shades and little jackets too wicked to ignore.

She wandered into a boutique which looked like her kind of store. A pretty girl smiled a welcome and said, “Hi there. Let me know if you need any help.”

Andrea stopped and smiled at the assistant. “That’s a lovely Scottish accent. Dare I ask what brought you here?”

The young woman nodded. “I fell in love with the city when I came out on holiday with my parents a while back. I just had to return. Which part of the UK is it you’re from?”

“The west country,” said Andrea. “I live in a town called Hartnett. It’s not far from Stonehenge. Most people seem to have heard of the standing stones.” She turned towards a rack of summer clothing. “I’d better get on.”

The friendly assistant gestured to a display at the side of the shop. “You’ll find plenty more in your size over there. Are you into maxi dresses?”

“Maybe,” said Andrea. “I think I’ll know what I want when I see it. Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all, but I would love to see you wearing this sea-green number.” She walked over to the rack and picked out the dress, holding it so its skirt draped over her other arm.

“Oh, wow,” said Andrea. “That is so beautiful.”

“You suit the colour and it’s reasonably priced too,” said the assistant. “You can tell I’m a Scot, can’t you?”

Laughing, Andrea picked up an ice-blue short frock, skirt cut to float when the wearer moved. “I’ll try just these two on. Otherwise knowing me, I’ll be floundering with too much choice.”

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