The Rebel Doc. Susan Carlisle
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trying to act normal. Whatever that was. ‘I know I haven’t been easy to live with, Ivy. Things have been hard over the years. Depression has clouded so much, it was so disabling at times. But this scare has made me take stock of things. I want to put things right.’
‘Depression?’ Ivy had considered that over the years, but her mum had always seemed so content with a man and so unhappy without one that Ivy had thought her mum’s moods had been linked entirely with her relationship status at the time. Guilt shook through her again, but sadness too. ‘I didn’t realise. I should have, but I didn’t.’
‘You were too busy just being a girl, Ivy. I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. But I suspect you lived them anyway?’
Her childhood had been no fairy-tale. She hadn’t exactly been shielded from the dramas, especially when her step-family had been ripped away from her. She’d lost her normal, and had been plunged into her mum’s darkest moments, borne the brunt of her insecurities.
Even though this conversation was the last thing Ivy wanted, she nodded. If Angela felt up to saying this—and she really did seem to want to talk—then Ivy needed to let her say it.
Angela looked genuinely sorry. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t very good at all that. I know you got caught in the cross-fire and I leaned on you a lot at times. But I was grateful to have you.’
It never felt like it.
Hurt surged through her. This truth gig wasn’t pleasant. In fact, it was downright painful. Ivy didn’t want to relive everything that had happened, she just wanted things to be different going forward. Why drag over the old pain? Why not just try to fix things from now? ‘I’m sure you did your best.’
‘I don’t know … Now that I look back, I can see so many mistakes.’ Holding onto the sink rim, Angela looked down at her thin hands, then back at Ivy. ‘I don’t know if we can make things better. Just a little? I don’t know …’
‘Me neither.’ Was it too late for them? Ivy didn’t know. What she did know was that she didn’t want her mother to die—that had to mean something. Stepping forward, she stroked a hand on Angela’s shoulder. ‘We could try.’ Whatever that meant. There was no blueprint for the next steps they were going to take. Did her mum really mean it? Or would she revert to her old ways once she’d regained some strength?
It was a risk Ivy was willing to take. She pushed away the dark cloud hovering at the back of her mind. Things would be better now. Surely?
Her mum’s smile was a little wobbly. ‘Yes, I think we should try, Ivy. I’d like to. I’m so glad you’re here to stay for a while, we can do some nice mother-daughter things together.’
But, despite wanting to fix everything, Ivy’s heart lurched. And, yes, she knew it was terribly self-absorbed to be thinking of herself, but if she stayed too long in York and lost her job then everything she’d worked for would be gone. She’d have no security.
And no seeing Matteo.
That thought bothered her more than she’d thought it would. Over the last couple of days he’d become more than a colleague. Despite his annoying ways. Despite every barrier she’d put up.
But, on the other hand, how could she leave her mum?
Would this time to heal be any different from the rest?
It was the first time they’d ever been so open with each other, that they’d acknowledged out loud that there had been problems. It felt scary. Strange, kind of wobbly, but hopeful. Angela looped her arm into Ivy’s as they made their way slowly out of the bathroom, dragging the IV stand with them. ‘Your man seems nice.’
‘He’s not my man.’ Ivy lowered her voice—even though he was metres away. Healing the rift with her mother was one thing, but she hadn’t envisaged diving straight into confidences about her personal life. ‘He’s just a friend.’
Angela threw her a sideways look. ‘Yes, I hold hands with my male friends too. All the time. And the way you look at him—that’s not the way a friend looks at another friend.’
‘Oh, no. Really? Eurgh. Really?’ Was it obvious to everyone? Somewhere along the line he’d wriggled his way under her skin. She cared for him. A fierce panic gripped her chest. ‘Great. Brilliant. It’s so not the right thing to do.’
Her mum looked at her as if she’d gone mad. ‘Calm down. It’s not a crime to have a bit of fun.’
‘That’s just it, Mum. I haven’t really done this before and I don’t know what to do.’ Was she really asking relationship advice from the serial divorcee? Apparently so. ‘I don’t want anything from him, I don’t want a relationship. I just want to do my job and to be left in peace.’
But I do want him. That’s the damned problem.
‘Hey, don’t overthink it like I do—that’s the kiss of death to any relationship. Just enjoy it. That’s what I’m going to do with Richard, anyway.’
‘Richard? Really? You’ve only just met him.’ Ivy came to a halt so the men couldn’t hear her. What was her mum saying? She was unbelievable. She hadn’t changed a bit, she was the same old lady saying the same old things, doing the same old routine. She’d spent the best part of her working life as a doctor fixing people, but in the end the only person she’d failed to fix was herself.
She’s fragile, Ivy reminded herself. She’s had a scare and is reaching out for comfort.
Or was she just up to her old tricks again? Her mum needed people around her, she couldn’t function on her own, and regardless of anything Ivy did or said, she couldn’t change that. Happiness was fleeting, she’d learnt. And if Richard made Angela happy, even for a short while, who was she to interfere?
But she needed to say how she felt, just to know that she’d tried to protect her mum from yet another relationship disaster. ‘You’re in hospital. You had a heart scare. A serious medical problem. You can’t start flirting with someone’s visitor.’
‘Ah, there you go again, overthinking. To tell you the truth, Ivy, I’m lonely, I need a little companionship. It’s not as if you’re living next door, popping round for sugar every other day. You’re miles away and I never get to see you.’ Angela gave Ivy’s hand a pat. ‘And that’s you through and through, always so independent, doing your own thing, forging your way in the world. You never accepted any help from being about four years old. I have no idea where you got that from.’
Necessity. ‘My dream job is in London, Mum, I have to go where the work is. I’m sorry I can’t be here all the time, but that doesn’t mean you have to jump into a … friendship … with the first person you meet. You need to be careful. Remember what happened with the others …’ The tears, the drama.
‘Of course I’ll be careful, dear. But I need to do what I need to do, too. I just want some company. It’s not a lot to ask for after everything I’ve been through. Really, darling, I know we’ve never done the heart-to-heart thing, but when you’re ready I can listen. Mind you, don’t ask my advice. I’m useless with men.’
‘Oh?’ Ivy threw her a smile. There was only so much she could say or do to stop her mum following her well-trodden path. Angela seemed undeterred. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
When they arrived back at the bed Matteo and Richard were discussing something to do with an article in an open newspaper on the table. Matteo looked up as she arrived, helped her settle her mum back in bed, all concern and interest and polite nodding.
He’d been so nice Ivy wanted to give something back, even if it meant sacrificing something for herself. Drawing him to one side, she whispered, ‘Matteo, I know you’re probably thinking about heading off back to London soon, but I wondered—when we’ve done here, could we go to the pub? Watch the game on TV? What do you think?’
Those dark stubborn eyes glinted. ‘I