The Celebrity Doctor's Proposal (8 page)

‘My father couldn't. It's one of the reasons I know he should retire. He's stopped seeing what his patients need.'

He saw her eyes cloud, saw the evidence of her very real affection for his father.

‘I don't want him to retire.' Anna's chin lifted. ‘Changing a few clinics won't matter to him. We can explain why we did it. Things are still the same in the practice.'

‘Things never stay the same,' Sam said flatly, rising to his feet in a fluid movement. ‘Time moves on and we need to move with it. Let's get through the summer and then we'll sort out what the practice needs, what Dad needs…' He hesitated. ‘And what you need.'

He saw her stiffen defensively. ‘What do you mean, what I need? I don't need anything.'

He gave a slow smile and watched with satisfaction while her colour rose. ‘No? Then it must be just me. Catch you later, Riggs.'

He left the room, ignoring the throb in his loins and the kick of his heart. Who would have thought it? Usually he liked his women gentle and compliant. Everything that Anna wasn't. Anna was stubborn and had a tongue like a whiplash, but he respected her. And that respect was growing, the more he saw of her.

And the fact that the chemistry between them so clearly didn't fit into her plans made the situation even more interesting.

‘M
UM'S
got an appointment at the memory clinic.' Glenda dropped her bag and removed her cardigan. ‘I never thought it would be that quick.'

Aware that Sam had pulled several strings and had had several conversations with the consultant over the past week, Anna merely smiled. ‘I'm pleased. When is it?'

‘End of the week.' Glenda pulled a face and settled in her chair behind Reception. ‘Do you mind if I take a few hours off in the afternoon to go with her?'

‘Of course not.' Anna put down the pile of journals she was carrying. ‘I wish you'd told me about your mum sooner, Glenda. I feel dreadful, knowing that you were struggling with that on your own.'

Glenda fiddled with her hair. ‘Well, to be honest, I don't think I was willing to admit it even to myself.' She flicked on the computer and gave Anna a rueful smile. ‘These things happen to other people, don't they? For ages I managed to convince myself she was just a bit forgetful, a bit crotchety. I didn't want to admit it might be anything worse. But lately she's been dreadful. Can't remember a thing.'

‘There are things you can do that might help with that.' Anna sat down on the corner of the desk. ‘Like keeping everything in the same place and having a
routine. Put telephone numbers by the phone and label cupboards to help her remember where things live in the house. I've got a leaflet somewhere with practical tips—I'll look it out for you although I'm sure the clinic will be able to give you something, too.'

Glenda buried her face in her hands. ‘I just don't want her to have to go into a home. But I know that I can't carry on like this either, and that makes me feel so selfish.'

‘You're not selfish, Glenda,' Anna said quietly, ‘and it's about finding a compromise that works for both of you. Why don't you stop worrying about it until after the appointment? The consultant will be able to assess your mother properly and give you some idea of the future and the options available.'

Glenda nodded and breathed out heavily. ‘I suppose that's good advice. It's just that your mind keeps running forward. What if she just can't manage at home any more? What if she isn't safe? To be honest, every morning when I leave the house I wonder whether she's going to have burned it down by the time I come home. It's a nightmare.'

‘Well, there are definitely practical things you can do to at least help in that department,' Anna reminded her. ‘You can get safety devices installed—gas detectors, smoke alarms, that sort of thing.'

Glenda nodded. ‘I know.' She sighed. ‘I suppose admitting there's a problem is the first step to doing something about it. At least now it's out in the open.'
She looked at Anna and her eyes filled. ‘I was so afraid that I'd lose my job.'

‘You're part of the practice, Glenda,' Anna said gruffly, leaning forward and giving the older woman a hug. ‘You belong here and we'll work through this together. You'll never lose your job.'

Glenda scrubbed her palm across her face and sniffed loudly. ‘Don't be kind to me. It makes it worse. But you're such a lovely girl. And your dad would have been so proud of you.'

‘It's going to be OK, Glenda,' Anna said softly. ‘We'll work something out. Somehow we'll get you whatever help you need.'

 

The issue of Glenda and her mother occupied Anna's mind for the next few days, and she managed to do a reasonable job of avoiding Sam. As usual, she ate lunch on the run and in the evening she headed for the beach and jogged along the sand, returning just late enough to avoid the possibility of sharing dinner. She didn't want to sit down opposite Sam again. Didn't want to risk feeling something that she didn't want to feel.
Something complicated.

All in all, she was doing fine. Life was back to normal.

It was just a shame she couldn't get that kiss out of her mind, she thought crossly as she pushed open the door of the surgery first thing one morning.

It was just because it had been so unexpected, she consoled herself. They'd had a nice evening—she frowned as she remembered it,
an unusually nice
evening
—and they'd both just got a bit carried away. Weren't emotions always more intense at night-time? If they kissed during the day they probably wouldn't feel anything at all. Nothing.

When she walked into Reception, Glenda was already at her desk, looking more relaxed than she had in weeks.

‘How did it go? I tried to call you last night.' Anna knew Glenda had taken her mother to the hospital the day before but when she'd tried to phone there'd been no answer.

Glenda blushed slightly. ‘Actually, after we got back from the hospital, I went for a drink with a friend. I needed to relax and Mum seemed fine so I popped out.'

Anna hid her curiosity, even though she was dying to ask whether the ‘friend' was male or female. Privately she hoped it was male. Glenda needed someone to brighten up her life. ‘So what did the hospital say?'

‘They were really positive and helpful, actually,' Glenda admitted, brushing her hair away from her face. ‘And they had lots of amazingly practical suggestions. Like looking for things that trigger her aggressive behaviour. When I talked about it with them, I realised that she gets really, really angry just before she goes to the toilet. So now I know that I need to watch for that and make sure that she gets to the toilet. Who would have thought it could have been brought on by something as simple as that?'

Anna nodded. ‘What else?'

‘Well, they've got this great day centre where she can go and get involved in all sorts of activities. They do things like art and music therapy. Apparently it gives patients a sense of achievement and that helps to ease some of the frustration.'

‘And it means that you can relax, knowing that she's in safe hands.' Anna was relieved that Glenda had been offered some help and support.

Glenda nodded. ‘And you were right about them giving me lots of practical tips. They're going to send a nurse round to assess the home, but they've said that it's important to minimise clutter. Apparently that should help to reduce Mum's agitation.'

Anna grinned. ‘Hope they never come and look at my house. I invented clutter.'

‘And I can vouch for that.' Sam strolled up, smothering a yawn. He looked as though he hadn't been sleeping properly. ‘Living with you, Riggs, is a bit like being in a permanent car boot sale. It's a good job your house purchase fell through. You and your belongings never would have fitted into old Jack Lawson's place on the beach. If it didn't already suffer from subsidence, it would have done the minute you moved in. No building could stand the weight of your belongings.'

Anna scowled at him. ‘And you're so domesticated and tidy, of course.'

Sam smiled and winked at Glenda. ‘At least I can cook.'

‘I can cook.' Anna put her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed. How could she have wanted to kiss
him? All she wanted to do at the moment was punch him for being so smug and infuriating. ‘It's just I don't choose to spend my time slaving over a hot stove for something that vanishes within seconds of being put on the table. It's the ultimate waste of time.'

‘What you do to food can't be described as cooking. Is that for me, Glenda?' Sam leaned across the reception desk and picked up his post. ‘By the way, we're filming the emergency clinic this morning. And then this afternoon I'm doing a piece to camera on the beach.'

‘Will you be wearing your wet suit and carrying a surfboard?' Anna's tone dripped sarcasm and he gave her a solemn look, one that he often used for the camera when he was addressing a serious topic.

‘No, I'm doing my caring, responsible doctor bit.' Then he grinned and walked towards his father's consulting room.

Glenda watched him go. ‘He's amazing, isn't he? Do you know that he spent the whole of yesterday evening installing gadgets in my house?'

Anna stared at her. ‘Gadgets?'

‘Yes.' Glenda nodded and ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Smoke alarm, some fancy gas thing—and an alarm for Mum. And he shifted some furniture for me. He's incredibly strong.'

Anna inhaled sharply. She didn't want to think about Sam's muscles. It brought back memories of his body pressed hard against hers.
Memories she was trying extremely hard to forget.

She was still trying not to think about his muscles when Hilda Wakeman hurried in, carrying a large bag.

‘Hello, Hilda.' Anna's face brightened. Hilda ran the upmarket delicatessen on the quay and Anna was her most frequent customer. ‘How's business?'

‘Brisk. I've been up since four-thirty, baking and cooking. It's the only way to keep up with demand. I think tourists eat more than they used to.' Hilda put the bags down. ‘Is Dr McKenna around?'

‘Just gone into surgery to catch up on some phone calls.' Glenda reached for the phone. ‘I'll buzz him for you.'

‘No need to bother him. Just wanted to say thank you, that's all.' Hilda gave Anna a rueful smile. ‘He did me a good turn yesterday and I always repay a favour.'

It appeared that Sam had done everyone a good turn yesterday, Anna reflected. For a man who professed not to enjoy harbour life, he seemed to have thrown himself back into the community with a commendable amount of dedication.

But it wasn't permanent, she reminded herself.

He was just playing at being a semi-rural GP. He'd be back to the bright lights and the glamour as soon as the summer was over and his father was back.

Sam walked out of his surgery, his face brightening when he saw Hilda. ‘My favourite cook!' His eyes narrowed. ‘No more problems since yesterday?'

‘None.' Hilda smiled warmly. ‘Thank goodness you were there.' She turned to Anna. ‘Little Nancy,
who works for me, cut her finger really badly. Fortunately Sam was passing and brought her up here and did the honours.'

‘She needed a couple of stitches. It was a nasty cut. Is she feeling all right today?'

‘I've got her working the till and taking it quietly. I did tell her to stay at home but, knowing how busy we are at the moment, she wouldn't hear of it. She's a good girl.' Hilda picked up the bags. ‘Now, knowing that you're living with Dr Riggs at the moment, I'm guessing you won't be eating that well, so I've got some things for you here, Dr McKenna, so that you don't have to worry about cooking tonight.'

Anna gritted her teeth. One of the drawbacks of living in a small village was that everyone knew everything about everyone else. Including the fact that she loathed cooking. ‘He isn't living
with
me, Hilda—'

‘Well, you're sharing a house, which amounts to the same thing,' Hilda said briskly, peering into the bag to remind herself of the contents. ‘Marinaded olives, a delicious aubergine salad that the two of you can have as a starter, and—'

‘The two of us?' Sam strolled towards her and hooked a finger into the bag. ‘Looks fantastic, Hilda. But who are you planning to feed?'

‘Well, you and Dr Riggs, of course. Stuck up there in that house on your own and both of you too busy to turn round, let alone cook.' Hilda smacked the back of his hand sharply. ‘Don't poke the food. It needs to go straight in the fridge in this heat other
wise you'll be poisoned and blaming me. I've got my reputation to think of.'

Ignoring her stern expression, Sam peered into the bag and sniffed. ‘Smells fantastic. I think your reputation as the area's best cook is still intact, Hilda.'

Glenda stood up, her eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Why don't I pop all that in the fridge in the kitchen and you can take it home when you go? Dr Riggs will be delighted. She hates cooking, as you know, Hilda.'

‘Of course I know,' Hilda said comfortably. ‘It's the reason she stops by almost every night and picks up something for her dinner. But I thought I'd save you the trouble tonight. And I thought I'd make something a bit special by way of a thank you. There's a lovely seafood pie and fresh apple crumble with clotted cream.'

Anna grunted, torn between pleasure at the anticipation of one of Hilda's dinners and irritation at the fact that everyone was discussing her lack of culinary skills so freely. ‘I don't know why everyone is so obsessed with the fact that I don't cook. Does a woman always have to cook?'

‘Not when they have a deli like mine in the village,' Hilda said calmly, handing the last of the bags to Glenda to store in the fridge. ‘And my Geoff popped an excellent bottle of white in the bag, too. A sauvignon blanc, that's his personal favourite. And I added a lovely scented candle. Have a good evening.'

With that she winked at them both and hurried back to her car.

‘Scented candle?' Sam stared after her. ‘What the hell was that all about? Give me the wine and the food, definitely, but what's with the scented candle?'

Anna scowled and raked her hair out of her eyes. ‘You heard. She knows I can't cook and she thinks I'm starving you. Although why I'm supposed to be responsible for the contents of your stomach, goodness knows. And I haven't got a clue about the scented candle. Perhaps it's to keep wasps away.'

‘Nothing to do with wasps. She's matchmaking,' Glenda said calmly, fishing in the bag and removing the candle. ‘Oh, look—it's one of those special ones set in driftwood. It's so pretty. It'll look lovely on that table on your deck. How romantic.'

She put it carefully back in the bag and Anna felt her colour rise. ‘Romantic? Matchmaking?'

Glenda smiled and stowed the bag carefully behind Reception. ‘Of course. The whole village is hoping that the two of you will fall in love and set up shop together. It would be a fairy-tale ending.'

There was a pulsing silence.

For a moment Anna stood still, totally speechless. Then her temper exploded. ‘Since when did fairy tales come with loud arguments and the threat of physical injury?' She whirled round and glared at Sam. ‘Don't just stand there laughing! Say something!'