Snowbound With The Surgeon. Annie Claydon
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TWO
A BOWL OF steaming porridge, a banana that had seen better days, coffee, toast and the last of the peanut butter would be enough to keep her going for the morning. By twenty past eight, Neve had tidied up and folded the sofa bed, and her deliberations about whether it was entirely wise to tidy her duvet away upstairs in the freezing bedroom were interrupted by the sound of a car outside in the lane. She dumped the duvet back onto the sofa and ventured into the hall, peering outside.
The trees were laden with snow after a fresh fall during the night. Clear blue skies, and sparkling white fields. The landscape had a kind of rugged beauty about it, an implicit challenge to either respect its rules or fall foul of them.
And talking about rugged beauty…
Joe had just got out of the driver’s seat of a black SUV. The high chassis and large wheels looked more than capable of tackling the rough terrain they were going to face today. He looked pretty capable, too. Tall and broad, standing for a moment to assess the sky and the road that twisted away into the distance, then shouldering a large canvas bag and turning towards her house. The gate was packed round with ice and snow and refused to budge, and he swung effortlessly over the low front wall.
It looked a bit eager, but she opened the front door anyway, not waiting for him to knock. ‘Hi. You made it…’
He shrugged, as if making it here hadn’t been in question. Kicked off his boots and strode into the kitchen, dumping the bag at her feet.
‘Hope this is what you wanted…’
Neve bent to look inside the bag. Every thing on her list and more. A hand of bananas, a bag of apples and a punnet of strawberries. She looked up at him silently.
‘I saw that your bowl was nearly empty.’ He gestured towards the one wizened apple in the fruit bowl.
The idea that Joe had been silently noting and assessing everything wasn’t particularly comfortable. ‘Thanks. That was thoughtful of you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He fished in his pocket and brought out a note and some change, putting it down on the table.
‘Is that right? Surely you spent more than that?’
He shrugged. ‘I shopped around. And someone gave me the strawberries yesterday.’
Neve gave him a long, questioning look and then gave up. If Joe wanted to operate on a need-to-know basis, then so be it. She hurried to stow the non-perishables in the larder and then opened the back door, pulling a heavy-duty plastic box inside and putting it on the table.
He was quietly watching her every move, and Neve felt her brow crease with anxiety. That old feeling of having something to prove to someone. She thought she’d left that behind her when she’d turned onto the M1 motorway from London, and headed north.
‘Let me…’ She was struggling with the clips on the box, and before she could protest he’d spun the box towards him and knocked a lump of ice out from under the lid, wresting it open.
Inside, there was half a pint of milk and a carton of juice, both frozen into solid lumps. One of his eyebrows arched, and Neve felt her hackles rise in response to the unspoken question.
‘What…?’ She should probably just leave it. Neve tipped the remainder of the shopping into the box and clapped the lid back on, fastening it securely.
‘Nothing… If I’d realised you were so short of supplies, I could have brought a few more things in for you.’
‘I’m fine. I told you that last night.’ She heard herself snap at him and reminded herself that Joe was a volunteer, doing this out of the goodness of his heart, and that she ought to make an effort to get along with him. ‘Are we going to get going, then?’
‘As soon as you tell me where.’ A hint of emotion tugged at the corner of his perfect mouth.
Neve sat down at the kitchen table. Maybe she was overreacting. It wasn’t Joe’s fault that the quiver in the pit of her stomach whenever she saw him reminded her of all the promises she’d made to herself about never letting a man walk all over her again.
‘This is my list. We’re due in Leminster first and then whichever order is easiest in terms of the driving.’
‘Right.’ He pulled the map from his pocket, spreading it on the table, one finger tracing the pattern of the other addresses on the list. ‘So if we drive north from Leminster…’ He swept his finger across the map in a rough circle, indicating forty miles of driving through blocked roads and over sheets of ice.
‘That would be ideal. Can we make it?’
‘Let me worry about that.’ He picked up his gloves from the kitchen table and folded the map, his frame suddenly taut and eager. A glimmer in his eyes seemed to flash out a warning to the world that obstacles weren’t a problem, and only existed to be overcome.
She’d find out soon enough if Joe was as good as his word. Neve picked up one of the bags of medical supplies, which lay ready by the door, and Joe got to the second before she could. ‘Let’s go, then.’
She was silent as Joe drove along the winding, treacherous road into Leminster village. Wary of him maybe?
Joe dismissed the thought. Neve struck him as the kind of woman who wasn’t afraid of anything. When her blue eyes had flashed with stubborn resolve, all his senses had tingled painfully back to life, reminding him that once he’d lived for the kind of challenges she faced now. Her scent and the way she moved only added to the temptation. He dismissed those thoughts as well.
Joe had put himself on trial here. When he’d first come to the village he’d deliberately avoided anything that was even remotely connected with his former life, but now there was a need he could fulfil. If he could do this, without getting involved with the medical side of things, that would be a final step towards putting his old life behind him.
He drew up outside the church hall in Leminster. A surgery had been arranged for those who could make it here, and outside the new fallen snow was already churned and flattened by the passing of feet. Inside, the occasion appeared to have turned into an impromptu coffee morning.
From the relaxed smile on her face when Neve walked into the hall, one would never have guessed that she was probably counting faces, wondering whether she was going to be here all day. She walked briskly into the middle of the noisy throng and clapped her hands.
Silence. Joe allowed himself a smile. That was an achievement in itself.
‘Who’s here for me?’ She made it sound like a party, and that she was excited to see that so many people had turned up. Three-quarters of the hands in the room shot up, and she tried again.
‘One hand for each patient, please.’
Most of the hands went back down again, leaving six. She gave a dazzling smile in response and received a low rumble of approbation from the assembled company.
She had a nice way about her. In Joe’s experience, if you wanted to know about a doctor, you looked first at their patients. And if the faces here were anything to go by, Neve was one of the best. Her style might be a little different from his, a little more long-lost-relative and a little less here-comes-the-cavalry, but that was no bad thing. Joe reminded himself that he was here to drive, nothing more.
‘Who’s first?’ Someone pointed to Fred Hawkins, sitting in the corner of the room, and he reached for his walking stick.
‘That’s okay, Fred. Finish your tea, it’ll be a couple of minutes before I get settled.’ She flashed Joe a smile then turned to the church warden, who guided her away into one of the small rooms at the back of the hall.
Although the intention behind holding a surgery here had not been primarily to carry out a fact-finding mission regarding Joe Lamont, it did turn up a lot of information. Fred Hawkins confided that he was a ‘useful enough carpenter’ while Neve was trying to listen to his chest. Lisa Graham