Doctor Knows Best (18 page)

As they were leaving they bumped into an old school-friend of Megan's. Her name was Jean and she had two small blonde children in tow, a small boy of about four and a toddler, obviously a girl as she was dressed from head to toe in pink.

“Gracious, what a long time it is since I saw you!” Jean exclaimed. “Megan, you don't look a day older, just as glamorous.” She glanced down at her shabby clothes. “You make me feel very scruffy, but I'm afraid all our money goes on these two.” She gazed down proudly at her children.

Megan smiled. “I can see they are both the apple of your eye,” she said. “You're very lucky, Jean, to have two such beautiful children.”

Jean beamed at the compliment. “Yes, although I admit I am rather biased—they are lovely, aren't they?” She laughed happily.

On the way home Megan couldn't get Jean and her two lovely children out of her thoughts. Here she was, the same age as Jean, but a childless spinster. Yes, that's what I am she thought vehemently, a childless spinster, and that's how I am going to end up!

“A penny for them,” said her mother, who was driving.

“What?” asked Megan, startled out of her black mood.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said her mother. “You've been completely silent ever since we left Exeter.”

“Have I?” said Megan. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking about anything in particular.” She was lying of course, but she couldn't possibly confess what her thoughts had really been.

Although she tried hard to shake it off, Megan found the pervading sense of gloom enveloping her. The more and more she thought about it, suddenly the more she felt that she had wasted her life, that she had missed something. It was strange; she had never given such things a thought before. Nursing had been her life—it had been filled with everything she had thought necessary. She had never felt the slightest desire to be married and have a family. In fact she had always secretly felt sorry for her friends who had got married. She'd always thought of them as being tied and of herself as being free but now suddenly she wondered if perhaps it was the reverse. They were tied, it was true, but they were tied to people, to a family, to something that was a lasting entity, an on-going thing. Whereas she was tied to nothing more than a job.

Oh true, she tried to convince herself, it was a worthwhile job, but patients came and went and although she knew she helped them and that they were grateful, she very rarely ever saw them again, and it was not possible to form lasting relationships with them or even really with one's colleagues. The hospital staff was composed of a shifting population; junior doctors had limited contracts and had to move away for their training, and nurses! She sighed; well, they either moved on, got married, or a few stayed and stayed until they retired—and if I'm not careful that will be me, thought Megan.

That night when she was sitting with her mother after dinner watching television, Megan said casually, “You know, I've been thinking.”

“Really dear!” said her mother, the irony in her tone passing unnoticed by Megan.

“Yes,” said Megan, sitting on the settee with her knees hunched up under her chin. “I've got into a rut. I think it's about time I did something about it.”

Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Well, dear, at your tender age I would hardly say you were in a rut,” she murmured. “But never mind, tell me what you are planning.”

“I think I must move,” said Megan positively. “I must either apply for a nursing officer's post or I must take a nursing job abroad.”

“I see,” said Mrs. Jones slowly, looking at Megan carefully. “What has made you suddenly decide this?”

“Oh, it isn't really sudden,” answered Megan, getting up restlessly and going over to the window. Looking out into the dense blackness of the night it seemed to her for a fanciful moment that she was looking into her own soul, dense and black, completely unknown to her. “I've been thinking about it for some time,” she continued casually. “I can't stay a Sister in Casualty for ever, you know.”

“Yes, but you'll…”

Megan swung round and interrupted her mother fiercely. “Don't say I'll get married,” she said quickly. “That does
not
feature in my plans! When it does I'll be the first to tell you.” She drew the curtains together in an irritable movement, which did not go unnoticed by her mother. “No, I've got to do something more positive with my life.” I'm going to start job hunting.”

Mrs. Jones patted the settee beside her. “Come and sit down and relax at least for now,” she said. “You know I'll support you in whatever you want to do.” She smiled at Megan. “If you do get a job on the other side of the world, I'll be able to come and visit you.”

Megan looked at her. Although her mother hadn't said so, she knew she would miss her terribly if she went to some far off place; and what was more, in spite of all her brave words Megan knew she would miss England terribly. Perhaps I should try for a nursing officer's post, she thought, but she knew whatever she did it would have to be somewhere other than the County General. She just couldn't go on working in a place where she was likely to run into Giles Elliott any moment of the day.

“Don't worry, Mum,” she said hugging her, “I don't think I could bear to move too far away from Devon. I'm a country girl at heart.”

“You must do what you think is right for you,” said her mother, knitting vigorously. “Just as long as you are happy.”

“Oh Mum,” Megan flung her arms around her, “I wish I could be calm like you.”

“Megan,” grumbled Mrs. Jones, “you've made me drop a stitch.” Then she added slowly as she carefully retrieved the dropped stitch, “My calmness hasn't come easily to me you know; it comes from years of practice.”

Megan laughed. “Yes, I can believe that,” she said. “I think I'd better start practising now. In the meantime,” she got up and went across to the sideboard, “how about us both having a nice glass of sherry?”

“Good idea,” said her mother, “there's plenty left over from Christmas. Giles was so generous I've got enough drink left to last me the rest of the year.”

At the mention of Giles' name, Megan paused momentarily, sherry bottle in her hand. The image of his darkly handsome face flashed up in front of her. Why is it there is always something to remind me of him? she thought as she poured the clear golden liquid into the cut-glass sherry glasses.

“I'll go and buy the
Nursing Mirror
tomorrow,” she said, handing her mother the glass of sherry. “It's the beginning of a new year, a good time to make a new start.”

“Yes, dear,” said her mother, quietly sipping the sherry. From the tone of her voice Megan knew she was not convinced that it was a good idea!

The days passed quickly. Megan went for long walks along the beach she loved and knew so well. The biting fresh air did her good and she felt strengthened in her resolve to make a move from the County General. It seemed that she had only just arrived when Sunday morning came, and after lunch she would have to pack up and drive back to the hospital.

“Are you going for your morning constitutional?” asked her mother.

Megan laughed. “You make me sound as if I'm about ninety! That's what old people do, take their morning constitutional!”

“I didn't mean it like that,” smiled Mrs. Jones. “You know what I mean. I'll cook lunch and you go for a walk along the beach, I know you love it there.”

So Megan did; she strode along the beach, the keen sea air bringing a delicate colour to her cheeks, her long dark hair streaming out in the wind behind her. Once again, as she had done so many times before, she thought how beautiful was the scene before her. The wide stretch of the waters of the estuary, today whipped up by the wind, foaming white horses tipping the tops of the waves. The patchwork of the countryside across the water appearing mistily through the fine haze thrown up by the foam, like a delicate water-colour.

The gulls swooped and dived, their plaintive screams torn to shreds by the wind and tossed to the elements. Megan felt exhilarated and she began to run, flinging her arms up to the sky. There was no one there to see her, the beach was deserted. At least she thought so, until she suddenly saw the tall figure of a man making his way down the sand dunes that sloped steeply at the back of the beach. He was some distance away, but near enough for Megan to know that he must have seen her running like a child; her arms thrown wide to the winds. She stopped dead in her tracks, embarrassed, hoping it wasn't someone she knew.

Then her heart stopped and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The distinctive long stride, the height, the dark hair… It couldn't be, it wasn't possible, but she knew it was. It was Giles Elliott making his way along the beach towards her.

If this was a film, though Megan almost hysterically, we would be running towards each other gracefully with our arms outstretched, and it would all be in slow motion. We'd have ecstatic expressions on our faces as we were running, and when we met we would wrap our arms around each other and kiss passionately! However, as it was, she stood uncertainly not knowing what to do, drawing a pattern in the firm sand with the toe of her shoe. She could hear his voice now, calling, “Megan!” It sounded plaintive as it mingled with the calls of the gulls. Slowly she began to walk towards him. Why ever was he here? Was something wrong?

The concern must have shown on her face because he said with a laugh, as soon as he reached her, “Don't look so perturbed, there's nothing sinister in my being here.”

“But why are you here?” demanded Megan. “You're the very last person I expected to run into here.”

“Run into being the operative word,” he smiled. “I saw you running as if you hadn't a care in the world.”

“Perhaps I was running away from my cares,” said Megan soberly. “But that doesn't answer my question—why are you here?”

“I had a free day and I thought about this lovely part of the country, and on impulse I decided to come down and take your mother out to lunch.” He grinned ruefully. “Of course, acting in a typically masculine fashion, I didn't think to ring and ask first whether or not it would be convenient.” He took Megan's arm. “However, your mother being the splendid woman she is, has taken it all in her stride and invited me to lunch.”

Megan wanted to take her arm away from his. The simple intimate gesture of drawing her arm to link with his hurt so much, for it meant nothing to him she knew; being so close to him was a physical pain for her.

“Where are Fiona and Joanna?” she asked as calmly as her turbulent emotions would allow.

“Spending the weekend together. Fiona returns to the States tomorrow and on Wednesday Joanna starts at her new school.” He smiled at her, a smile that made her feel as if suddenly it was summer. “Thanks to you, I can start to settle down at last,” he said. “As soon as Joanna starts school I shall begin house-hunting. I was going to ask you to help me, but your mother tells me you are thinking of moving on.”

Megan wondered what else her mother had said. She hoped she hadn't tried her hand at matchmaking. But no, whatever, she might think, Megan knew she could rely on her to be tactful.

“Is it true?” asked Giles. “Are you really going to leave the County General?”

“I've got to find another job first,” answered Megan, avoiding his searching blue eyes. “I shall be around for a little while yet, unless of course I'm very lucky and the right job turns up suddenly.”

“This is all a bit sudden, isn't it?” asked Giles. “You seemed content before with the work at the County General. What has changed to make you alter your mind?”

“Nothing,” lied Megan miserably. How could she say,
You've changed everything for me
?
“Of course,” she made her voice sound as matter of fact as possible, “I shall be looking for a job with a higher salary.”

Giles stopped suddenly and, pulling on her arm, turned her round to face him. “You're not short of money, are you?” he asked. “For your brother and mother I mean; because if you are you know I would be only too willing to help.”

Megan flushed brick red with embarrassment. “No, it's not that,” she mumbled uncomfortably. “I just think it's about time I moved on, that's all.” His generous gesture touched and embarrassed her. “It's kind of you to offer to help though,” she said softly. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness to my family.”

“I…” he hesitated, then said, “Well, that's all right then, but just remember, if you ever do need help, don't hesitate to come to me.”

“I'll remember,” said Megan, still not daring to look at him.

“You wouldn't come to me though, would you?” he said. Although he said it almost as a statement rather than a question.

Megan hung her head. “I'd find it difficult,” she admitted. Then almost defiantly she faced him squarely. “But then I'd find it difficult to ask favours from anyone.”

“You shouldn't find it difficult to ask friends favours,” he said. “I asked you a favour, and you've done me a tremendous service where Joanna is concerned. You've no idea of the burden you've lifted from my shoulders now that I know she can stay here and everything is amicably settled. You helped to make things easier for me with Fiona.”

Hot prickles of resentment crept along Megan's spine at his mention of Fiona. It seemed she would always come between them.

“I know Fiona may seem a bit hard on the surface,” continued Giles, “but for all her faults she does love Joanna, and I know she is happy to leave Joanna here knowing that someone like you is in the background. Someone a young girl can turn to if she needs anyone. So you see,” he drew Megan close, “I want you to stay at the County General for Joanna's sake.”