Carole Mortimer - To Be A Husband

What on earth was wrong with her? she chastised herself later as she accompanied Mr Gilchrist on his round. But she knew the answer to that all too well. She had chosen a life for herself in the last two years, a life that was necessarily apart from friendships of any kind, and Jonathan Hunter and his family, with their witty dialogues and underlying kindness, broke through that defence, showing her all too vividly glimpses of what she was missing. Just those brief glimpses made her yearn for something she couldn’t have: friends, stimulating conversation, a social life that at times could become too hectic. All gone now. And in its place was loneliness, silence, pretence—and the latter was something she had, ironically, never been good at!

She drank her morning coffee alone in the canteen. Through choice. She had only worked at the clinic for six months, but she had already learnt during that time that making friends with any of the other midwives meant familiarity, and familiarity encouraged questions, questions she had no intention of answering. So she kept herself aloof. And alone...

‘Mind if I join you?’

She looked up sharply at the familiar sound of that voice.

‘Jonathan...!’ She recognised him instantly, looking about them uncomfortably, noticing several curious glances being cast their way by other members of staff also taking their coffee-breaks, the female glances openly admiring as they looked at Jonathan.

Most of the staff were aware that Abbie Hunter was staying in the clinic, and they possibly also recognised Jonathan as having visited his sister-in-law during the last two days. His presence here now wasn’t going to comply with Gaye’s wish for a quiet, unobtrusive life at all!

‘I’m afraid you’ve come into the wrong room, Mr Hunter.’ She deliberately made her voice slightly louder than normal. ‘The visitors’ tea room is—’

‘But I don’t want the visitors’ tea room,’ he cut in smoothly, uncaring of the interest they were engaging. ‘I want to have coffee with you,’ he announced determinedly as he sat down in the chair opposite hers at the table.

Gaye closed her eyes, groaning softly, only to find Jonathan looking across at her with calm query when she opened them again. ‘Not here,’ she told him with soft intensity, willing him to get up and leave.

Which he didn’t, of course, do! This man, she decided, had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time—and he had the ability to take her with him!

‘Why not?’ He looked about the room curiously, a large, well-lit room, its windows facing out over the clinic gardens. ‘It seems very pleasant in here.’ He turned back to Gaye, looking down into her cup. ‘The coffee looks good too.’

‘It is,’ she confirmed impatiently. ‘But you aren’t supposed to be in here. And you’re drawing attention to the two of us,’ she told him more forcefully.

Jonathan tilted his head as he gave her a considering glance. ‘And you don’t like that, do you?’ he said slowly, obviously completely unconcerned himself at the attention his extreme good looks were drawing in their direction. ‘They’re only curious, Gaye.’ He shrugged dismissively. ‘It isn’t important.’

‘It is to me,’ she insisted. ‘I don’t like being the subject of gossip and speculation.’ She shuddered at the thought of it

There had already been enough of that over the last two years without it all starting up again. Anonymity was the reason she lived the way that she did; she had no intention of having that taken away because of this man’s determination to make a nuisance of himself!

Jonathan gave a smile. ‘I’ve got news for you, Gaye: there is no way on earth you will ever stop people gossiping or speculating about you, or anybody else! I learnt that years ago, and I’ve learnt not to let it bother me.’

‘Well, it bothers me!’ She pushed away her half-drunk cup of coffee before standing up. ‘I think I’ll go back to work now.’

It was only once she was outside in the corridor, and found Jonathan at her side, that she realised he must have followed her from the room. She was tall herself, but he towered well over her, and the broad width of his shoulders in his fitted suit seemed to offer a protection she so badly needed—No! She didn’t need anyone, least of all a man like Jonathan Hunter, a man who, in his own words, had the newspapers and gossip-mongers following his every move. She didn’t want any part of that!

‘Shouldn’t you be getting back to work too?’ she said pointedly as he made no move to leave her side.

He gave that slow, lazy smile that caused an instant fluttering sensation in her chest. ‘One of the advantages of being a part-owner of a company: I’m answerable only to myself concerning the amount of time I put in at the office.’

Which meant he could hang around here all day being a pest if he chose to do so!

‘Well, some of us aren’t that lucky,’ she told him bluntly as she stopped outside her ward. ‘Goodbye again, Mr Hun—’

‘It was Jonathan earlier,’ he reminded her gruffly as he put a lightly restraining hand on her arm, letting her know he had noticed that slip in her defences earlier. ‘Gaye, there are some things I want to talk to you about—’

‘What things?’ She had become suddenly still, her expression apprehension as she stared up at him with wide green eyes.

Jonathan looked down at her with concern. ‘Gaye—You’re right,’ he said as two junior midwives went past them in the corridor, giggling and talking softly together, obviously about the two of them. ‘This isn’t the place for this. I’ll pick you up here when you finish work, and we can go for a drink somewhere and talk—’

‘No! I mean—No.’ She forced herself to remain calm. ‘I—have things to do straight after work. I—Perhaps I could meet you later,’ she went on agitatedly, not really wanting to meet him at all, but conscious of those things he might want to talk to her about. Maybe this was the reason he had been so quiet the last two days; he had been patiently biding his time, knew he only had to say the right words to get her to agree to meet him, after all. Abbie Hunter was wrong; this man wasn’t nice at all! ‘There’s a pub just around the corner from my home. The Swan. I’ll meet you there at nine-thirty,’ she told him brusquely, moving away from his restraining hand as she turned to leave.

‘Gaye...?’ Jonathan called softly after her down the corridor.

She drew in a deep breath before turning reluctantly to face him. ‘Yes?’ she sighed.

He smiled again. ‘If I arrive first, what shall I order you to drink?’

She couldn’t respond to the gentle teasing in his voice, or that smile that had affected her so much seconds earlier; she was too tense, too worried to be able to relax. What things did he want to talk to her about? What did he know?

‘If you think you know so much about me, then I suggest you guess!’ she bit out tautly, this time leaving without hindrance.

But she couldn’t resist a glance back before going through the double doors of the ward, startled as she found Jonathan still standing exactly where she had left him, a perplexed expression on his face as he returned her gaze. Why should he be the one feeling perplexed? He wasn’t the one on the defensive!

‘Nine-thirty,’ he confirmed.

Gaye gave him one last frowning look before hurrying back to work. She had thought he was trouble the first time she’d looked at him—and he had done nothing since that time to disabuse her of her belief!

CHAPTER FOUR

WHAT things was Jonathan going to find to talk to Gaye about?

He had arrived at The Swan shortly before nine-thirty, had bought a whisky for himself, and a glass of white wine for Gaye—because she looked more like a white wine drinker than beer!—and now he was left sitting on tenterhooks at a corner table of the rapidly filling public house, desperately searching his brain for something important enough to talk to her about that warranted the two of them meeting like this!

Because there was absolutely nothing he could think of! He had come out with his statement initially in sheer desperation because he couldn’t think of any other way to stop her just walking away from him, ever conscious of the fact that Abbie and Conor were due to be discharged at any time; with that his reason to visit the clinic, and see Gaye, would be gone...

But now he was left with the problem of what to talk to Gaye about! She wasn’t going to be too happy with him if—

She had arrived!

He had been keeping a surreptitious eye on the door, while at the same time trying to look as if he wasn’t really waiting for anyone, despite the obviousness of the glass of white wine. Because a part of him hadn’t been sure Gaye would turn up... And he could imagine nothing worse than having to get up and leave, with everyone else in the room aware he had been stood up. Not that it had ever happened to him before, but with Gaye he had already learnt to expect the unexpected.

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