Unknown (15 page)

It was visible but well down the ear canal and would have to be removed by fine forceps. Fenella knew that Max wouldn't want her to attempt it, as she'd never tackled anything of the kind before, and a perforated eardrum wouldn't go down well with either the patient, his parents or her boss.

'Can you spare a moment?' she asked when he had a gap between patients.

'Of course,' he said levelly, getting to his feet. 'What's the problem?'

'Megan Oliver has brought in one of her neighbour's children with a bead in his ear. It is well down and I think it will need forceps.'

'So Megan has made friends with her disruptive neighbours, it would seem. That is good.. .for all of them,' he said.

The bead was quickly removed and now the boy was smiling. So was his elderly companion as she told them, 'The prednisolone did the trick. I've stopped sniffling and sneezing.' She took the child's hand in hers again. 'On top of that, I've got to know Christopher and his family. I feel as if I've been given a new lease of life.' And off she went with a spring to her step.

As they watched her go Max said, 'It's good to see a satisfied patient, just the same as it is to have satisfied staff.'

'If you're referring to me, don't,' she said coolly. 'I'm perfectly happy in the job, and as for my private life... watch this space.'

She was going to have it out with her mother at the first opportunity. Was going to ask her why she'd done what she had—making her look as if she was still being wet-nursed for one thing, and damaging her confidence in herself for another.

She was in love with Max and nothing anyone said was going to change that, but she had her pride and he would have to get down on his hands and knees before she revealed her feelings again.

When she got in that evening she rang Ann and asked, 'Can I come round? I need to talk to you.'

'Yes, of course,' she replied. 'Come and eat with us.'

Fenella shook her head. 'No, I'll come over later. I need to go to the supermarket first to do some food shopping.'

'I
know why
you're here,' Ann said when later she arrived at Simon's house. 'Max told me this morning that you know about me asking him to keep his distance from you.'

'So you've been discussing me again,' Fenella flared. 'I am
not
a child. I told you I loved him and you went and put the blight on it. How could you?'

'I agree. You are not a child. You're a very attractive woman who could have any man she wants, so why rush things with Max? You haven't been at the practice all that long. Not only am I afraid that he might hurt you, he is a great friend of Simon and myself and the boot could so easily be on the other foot. You could break his heart.'

'Have I ever said or done anything in my life that I didn't mean?' Fenella said angrily.

'Er...no.'

'Well, then, why can't you trust me in this?'

'It's not trust we're talking about, it's concern.'

'Did I interfere when you sprang it on me that you were in love with Simon?'

'No, but we are—'

'Mature adults? Is that what you were going to say?'

'Yes, something like that.'

'And I'm not. How do you think I looked after myself at university? Not by being a naive nincompoop, I can tell you. But I have taken note of the fact that to Max and you I'm just a gullible post-graduate who needs to be kept on the straight and narrow.'

'This is the first time we've ever quarrelled,' Ann said flatly.

'It's the first time I've ever been in love,' Fenella countered. 'And it has all been spoilt.' After a brief farewell to Simon, who had listened to the sharp exchange of words in mute dismay, Fenella went home to face an empty evening.

'You were wrong to warn Max off,' Simon told Ann after Fenella had gone. 'I know you did it from the best of motives but it would have been better to let them find their own way. He deserves some happiness and that feisty young daughter of yours could be the one he's been waiting for. Fenella doesn't seem to have any doubts about it. If I had a daughter like her, I would be only too pleased to have her marry a man like Max.'

Dismayed at the way her best intentions were being misunderstood, Ann said wearily, 'Easy enough to say when you haven't got a daughter.'

As he observed her anxiously, she managed a smile. 'Don't worry,' she told him. 'Fenella and I care too much about each other to be at odds for long.'

When Fenella went to college the following day she did the shopping she'd promised herself in the lunch-hour, but instead of having her hair dyed black, as she'd been intending doing as a gesture of defiance, she bought a black wig, along with a smart black cocktail dress, high-heeled silver shoes with matching jewellery, and a supply of heavier make-up than she usually wore.

When she tried on the ensemble that evening, the effect was what she'd wanted it to be. She looked svelte and sophisticated, and hoped that soon the opportunity to introduce her new look would present itself.

It was the night before the celebration party on the village green, when the flower queen was to be crowned, followed by the ball in the evening.

Fenella was looking forward to the party, but would not be attending the ball as she hadn't got a partner. She'd got the dress, the shoes, the bag, the inclination, but not the man, she thought dolefully as she cleared away after her evening meal.

There had been much talk at the practice about the two events but no one knew whether Max intended going to the ball. One of the receptionists had been selling tickets and she announced that he'd bought two, but there had been no information forthcoming as to who he would be taking with him if he went.

Since she'd learnt of her mother's interference, Fenella hadn't seen Max out of working hours and was not expecting it to be any different over the coming weekend. Until she answered a ring on her doorbell and found him standing there.

'What do you want?' she asked, without any form of greeting and he observed her judgementally.

'How about asking me in for starters?' he said with a smoothness that didn't match his expression.

'Yes, of course. Do come in,' she invited stiffly.

'Are you going to the ball?' he asked, with an abruptness that matched hers as they stood in the hallway facing each other.

'No,' she told him, feeling like Cinderella. 'Are you?'

'Not unless you are.'

'What do you mean?'

He sighed. 'What do you think I mean? At the risk of bringing the temperature down even further, I've got a couple of tickets, so would you like to be my partner?'

Would she! But not prepared to give in easily, she said, 'You've left it a bit late, haven't you? Asking me the night before. What's wrong? Isn't Sonya available?'

'Sonya is still in America, and I wouldn't be asking her even if she wasn't. So are you going to give me an answer or not?'

She nodded. 'Yes, I am. I'd like to go very much. Thank you for asking,' she said primly, and he laughed.

'What's happened to the woman of the world image that I've been told to expect?' The laughter dwindled as he observed her expression. 'I believe you quarrelled with your mother and I'm really sorry about that. I shouldn't have told you that she'd been to see me.'

'Oh, yes, you should!' she snapped. 'You have no idea how humiliating it felt to know that she didn't think me capable of knowing my own mind. But have no worries about my mum and me, Max. We made it up the following day, and by the way she told me today that she and Simon have fixed the date of the wedding. I wouldn't be surprised if they're trying to get hold of you at this moment.'

'When is it to be?'

'In a month's time.'

'I see. That's good, as it means that Simon is becoming more mobile. I also have news to impart. It is about Will.'

'What?'

'He's dating Chelsea Bullock, the flower queen. I hope you're not upset.'

She smiled for the first time since he'd arrived. 'Of course I'm not upset. It is a relief.'

'It might be for you, but think of me with Brenda hinting all the time that one day we might be related. But I have to go. I've promised to help erect the marquee that we're using for both the crowning of the queen and the ball. Will I be seeing you in the afternoon as well as the evening tomorrow?'

'Yes. I'm looking forward to both. Until you came I wasn't expecting to go to the ball, but life changes from one minute to the next, doesn't it?'

'It does indeed,' he agreed, and thought that
his
life had brightened up significantly since Fenella had agreed to go to the ball with him. He was no ditherer, and would have done something about Fenella and himself before if Ann hadn't butted in.

His hand was on the doorhandle. He was ready to depart and she didn't want him to go. But neither was she going to ask him to stay. He'd just said he had work to do on the marquee, but as if Max read her thoughts he said, 'What is it? What are you thinking?'

'I'm thinking that I hope you recognise me when you see me tomorrow night.'

'That sounds ominous,' he commented as amusement glinted in the dark eyes looking into hers. 'So what kind of a corsage shall I bring?'

'Er...white. White flowers,' she told him on impulse. 'It doesn't matter what kind.' She hoped that the amount of black she would be wearing would tone down any liquorice all-sorts effect.

'Fine. White flowers it is,' he agreed, 'and now I really must go. I'll see you at the crowning tomorrow afternoon and we can arrange then what time I'm going to pick you up in the evening.'

Fenella nodded. She accepted that he couldn't stay, but tomorrow they would make up for it. They were back on line. Max hadn't exactly gone down on his knees, but he'd come especially to ask her to go to the ball with him. Told her that if she wasn't going, he wasn't, and it had made her feel special. An emotion that had been lacking in her life of late.

The vicar's wife was to crown the flower queen on a raised platform in the centre of the village green, and in the dream of a dress that Alice had made out of palest pink brocade, Chelsea was preening herself in the village hall with Will Hollister beside her as she waited for the ceremony to begin. Her attendants were scattered around, awaiting their own lesser, but to them no less exciting, moment of glory.

As Fenella watched Alice's expression she felt tears prick. There was happiness and pride there, and she thought that this was a changed woman who bore no resemblance to the old tartar who'd opened the door to her that day and told her snappily that it was the organ-grinder she'd asked to see, not the monkey.

Her rheumatism wasn't all that much better, but the strict diet she'd been put on by the hospital was giving some degree of relief, and even though the bone scan had shown signs of osteoporosis, she was still much happier.

The brass band was assembling in front of the platform and Fenella could see Max chatting to the vicar. They were smiling at something the bustling middle-aged cleric had said, and when Max came to sit beside her she said, 'I love this place.' Two young children came past, skipping excitedly in front of their parents. 'It's perfect for bringing up children.'

He didn't reply, just observed her thoughtfully, and Fenella felt her face grow warm. Don't try to put the cart before the horse, she told herself hastily. You're dealing with a man who knows his own mind and just because he's asked you to the ball tonight it doesn't mean that he is going to propose.

The band began to play. The vicar's wife was in position on the flower-strewn platform and as silence fell on those seated on the village green the young flower queen and her attendants appeared.

In their long dresses, all in soft summer colours, and carrying bright posies, they provided the final burst of colour to an already vivid background as they walked slowly towards the platform.

Fenella could see her mother and Simon seated across from them with his crutches propped up against the chair and she thought that the next big local event would be their wedding. She was looking forward to it in one way, but not in another.

Max and herself would be participating and she knew that all the time she would be wondering if their roles would ever be reversed. Whether one day Simon would be Max's best man and Julie, or one of her other friends from university, would follow her down the aisle to where Max was waiting.

The crowning ceremony was over and the band was leading the queen and her retinue on a parade around the village, with some of those who had been at the ceremony now crowding the pavements. While inside the big marquee, the ones who had refreshments on their minds were being served afternoon tea.

For the two doctors it was time to roll up their sleeves and attack the washing-up. Caught up in the atmosphere of goodwill that prevailed amongst the helpers, Fenella told herself that this was a day when nothing was going to go wrong.

When she opened the door to Max that evening he exclaimed, 'Good grief! You look like the woman in the Addams family. What was her name, Morticia? I can't believe that you've dyed your beautiful hair.'

'I haven't,' she told him as she stepped back to let him in. 'And when you've quite finished making disparaging remarks, perhaps I can explain that this is the new me.'

His glance went over her slowly, taking in the smart black dress, silver shoes and jewellery. 'The rest of the "new you" is quite something,' he admitted. 'I can't find fault with it. Though you look good in whatever you wear. But what is it that you are trying to convince me of, Fenella? I have no questions regarding you. I've seen you perform at the practice and you have the makings of a first-class GP.'

'What you are seeing has nothing to do with the practice,' she said steadily. 'It is about us, you and me. I've always felt at a disadvantage with you because of the way we met. It was a meeting that was as far away from romance as it possibly could be. It was sordid and embarrassing. I still shudder when I think about it.'