The Summer We Loved Page 7

  Jenny pursed her lips and pulled her chair out, giving him room to move. “And you can keep your voice down.” She pointed upstairs. “That lot got less sleep than you did last night. And their illness wasn’t self-inflicted.”

  Ouch, her words stung more than his throat did from speaking. Pete looked at her and, if looks could kill, she would have been writhing on the floor. Who was she to sit in judgement over him? She knew nothing about him.

  He tried walking, but it was too painful and he fell back against the furniture. His head hung. And she just left him there, for a second, anyway, and then she took over, bossing him back into bed and scolding him in that superior tone of hers.

  “You need something to eat. When was the last time you ate? You look awful.”

  So much for bedside manner. Pete rested back, defeated and gave a sullen kind of shrug.

  “Well it’s too early for a full English. I don’t want to wake the entire house. I’ll see what I can find.”

  Five minutes later she was back in the living room with a plate of something ominous. “What on earth is that?” he managed to ask, his brow crinkling in distaste.

  “It’s the best I could do. Eat up. It’ll do you good.”

  His face took on an expression he hoped would convey his disapproval.

  “Oh, stop making such a fuss and eat it.”

  Pete brought the food to his lips. It smelled revolting. Gingerly he took a bite. Sickly sweet squelchy innards hidden inside two slices of bread. His stomach recoiled and he had to concentrate hard just to swallow. “What the-”

  “It’s a strawberry jam and banana sandwich. It’ll sort you out. Until I can get you something more.”

  “It’ll make me heave.”

  “Just eat it, you big baby. You men think you’re so tough, but heaven forbid you get a bit of an infection and, in your case, no doubt a hangover too.”

  It certainly felt far more than a hangover to Pete. He felt as though someone had ridden a horse all over his body, taken a grater to his throat and then kicked him in the head just to make sure. He stared at her, trying to convey in his expression what it hurt to put into words.

  But Jenny just shrugged. She handed him a pint of water. “Here, and you need to take two of these; they’re your antibiotics. You’ve got tonsillitis. And here’s some Paracetamol.”

  There were many things he wanted to say to her at that point, but none of them were pleasant. It was probably a good thing his throat felt as if he had swallowed a mouthful of barbed wire. He picked up the sandwich and did his best to eat it. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he managed quietly, as he screwed up his face to swallow the final bite.

  Jenny grinned and then bit down on her bottom lip. “Just a bit.”

  As the rest of the house woke up around six, two weary parents appeared at the living-room door. They looked towards the settee and then smiled with relief.

  “One slightly delicate, but still very much alive, brother,” Jenny reported.

  “Not for the want of trying,” Pete growled. “She made me eat kiddy food.”

  “I didn’t want to risk waking you up,” Jenny explained.

  Rachel smiled. “Thanks, Jen. I have to confess, I’m feeling pretty rough this morning. You were right, they’re both covered now. We only got an hour or two last night. How about you?”

  As the world started to wake up outside, Jenny realised she would have to call in sick. She took herself out to the back garden and phoned the ward, and in her best poorly voice she claimed a migraine. It pained her to lie, knowing the disruption she was causing, but she had to do this, for Pete.

  Jenny breathed in the fragrant morning air and thought. Where did they go from here? Pete was alive, but still not well. He needed to get better, to get back to work, so he didn’t lose his job, but he obviously still needed to confront what was troubling him. She walked back inside.

  “I’ll take Pete home with me,” she announced to the rest of them.

  “No, he can stay here. I’ll look after him,” James said.

  “But you’ve got the kids to look after,” she reminded him.

  “And you need to get back to work,” Rachel said.

  Pete waved his arms in the air to get their attention. “I am here, you know,” he managed. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I’ll go home.”

  The three of them just looked at him.

  “There are four nurses in our house,” Jenny continued, returning her gaze to Rachel and James. “One of us will normally be around and we can all keep an eye on him.”

  “I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me!” he bit out, wincing with the pain.

  “Are you sure that’ll be okay?” James asked, completely ignoring him.

  “I’m sure,” she said. But was she?

  Pete bashed his mug down hard on the empty plate to make a loud noise. “I’m a bloody doctor. I don’t need a gaggle of nurses keeping an eye on me. I’ll be fine.”

  Jenny turned on him. “Like you were when we found you last night?” She snapped. She couldn’t help it. Lord save us from doctors; they made the worst bloody patients of all!

  Grizzles started emanating from above stairs. “Look what you’ve done now!” Rachel scolded and she shot Pete a scathing look, withering him on the spot.

  Jenny looked at James. “I’ll take him. If he can just have a bit more food and rest here until lunchtime? Get another dose of tablets inside him, and then if you could maybe give us a lift to the bus station in town, I’ll get us a taxi the other end.”

  James agreed and walked back out to see if Rachel needed a hand and Jenny turned to Pete. “Get some rest,” she told him. “We’ll head back home after lunch.”

  Jenny wasn’t sure how this was going to play out when they got there. She hadn’t asked the other girls. She was just thankful when she remembered Flis was away. But at least they had found him. Now all she had to do was sort him out. With his co-operation would be easier, but without would work too.

  But before they left James took her aside. “He’s got finals in just over a month. He’s already failed them once. I doubt, with all that’s happened, he’s put much effort in as yet and with his record and his problems, this could be his last chance. If he gets through, he can make consultant. If you have any sway with him, please don’t let him throw it all away. Help him back out of this.” And that was exactly what she intended to do.

  Chapter 6

  With his head leant against the window, Pete drifted in and out of consciousness the whole way back to Duxley. He was exhausted. At times he became aware of Jenny’s arm or leg resting against his, and the feeling that grew inside him was at odds with the workings of his mind. She was his captor, his nemesis, the punishment for his sins, but his heart beat a little faster every time she was near. Her scent played games with his insides as her soft skin rested quietly against his own. He had struggled before with wanting what he could never have and never had it been harder than here.

  As soon as he was back on form, he would be gone; she wouldn’t see him for dust. They would both be safer that way. One night, that’s all he needed; 24 hours of rest and care and he would be up and ready and out of there.

  Work was another matter. Jenny had mentioned he was in trouble and he understood that he should be. He had messed them around more than once and this time had been a biggy.

  His brother had come up to him before they’d left and told him he knew about Adam. He’d said he was sorry and understood it must be hard for him, but he had no idea. He wanted Pete to focus on his studies now. On his studies! What did it matter if he sat the exam or not? What was the point? He was kryptonite. If he couldn’t keep safe those he loved - first his mother and then Ali, and now Adam and Kate’s little girl, Selena, his beautiful goddaughter - then what use was he to anyone?

  The bus stopped and Jenny dug him in the ribs. “Pete. We’re here.”

  Pete opened his eyes and looked around. He was back, and his p
roblems were worse than ever.

  “We’d better find a taxi,” Jenny said and he stirred himself into action.

  They made their way off the half-empty bus and stepped out into a warm afternoon. His body ached. Jenny took his bag as he was struggling to keep up, and in the end he had to rest on her shoulder to hobble the 50 yards to the taxi rank.

  As Pete watched through the window, they moved through the streets and pulled up at a terraced house on a road about a mile away from the hospital. Jenny handed over the money, which, had he not been so exhausted, would have wounded his pride, and they got out. Pete lifted his bag onto his back and sagged.

  Jenny rolled her eyes and yanked it off him again. “Give me that,” she scolded. “And let’s get you to bed.”

  “Promises, promises,” Pete mumbled under his breath and Jenny threw him a look that could have withered steel.

  Jenny unlocked the door and called out to see if anyone was home. A girl’s voice answered.

  “Where the hell have you been?” The girl rounded the corner from the kitchen and saw Pete standing there next to Jenny. “Oh.”

  “Heather. Yes. The prodigal son returns. I found him languishing in some ditch, miles away,” Jenny told her. “He’s in a bit of a bad way, so I’m going to look after him here for a few days until he’s better. I hope that’s going to be okay?” She put down their bags. “By the way, if anyone asks, I was in bed with a migraine today, okay?”

  “Migraine. Right.” Heather nodded.

  “Come on, buster, let’s get you up to bed,” Jenny said.

  “Can’t keep her hands off me,” Pete joked in his least-strenuous voice and Heather giggled.

  Jenny stopped and looked at him sternly. “Okay, tiger, first ground rule: my lot are out of bounds. And you’re not in any state to be promising anything. I should also warn you that Flis lives here too, so if I were you, I’d watch my step.”

  Pete groaned, reminded of his brief drunken liaison with her friend. A huge mistake. Kate had given him hell for that. And then to cap it all off, Flis had turned out to be as clingy as athlete’s foot and it had all turned rather ugly. Kate. His smile fell. Kate was gone.

  He followed Jenny up the stairs to her bedroom and stood in the doorway, numb to the world around him, except to the pain that was trying to sidle back into his mind. He needed a drink. Pete slumped down on the bed and looked around for his bag. He started to rummage through for his bourbon, searching faster, becoming increasingly frustrated.

  “If you’re looking for the booze, you smashed it. We had to pick the pieces out of your coat before we put it through the wash,” Jenny said.

  He growled and tossed the bag back down.

  “Sit over there,” she told him, pointing to her chair. “I need to get you into bed before you fall down. I don’t want you hurting anything else. I don’t think being a patient is your forte.” She pulled out some fresh bedding and started to strip the sheets.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I thought you would prefer to sleep in a clean bed.”

  He tried to stand up. Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? If she was going to tend to him here, in her bed, where was she going to sleep? He wasn’t having this. “No. I’m going home.”

  He tried to get up, but Jenny glared at him and pushed him back down into the seat. “You’re going nowhere, mister. Sit. Down.”

  “I’m not throwing you out of your bed and having you nanny around after me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Obviously!”

  Stubborn bloody woman. God, how he wished he was just a little bit stronger. He would… He would… What the hell would he do? He was a mess and he knew it, but he was damned if he was going to let her know that. He turned sullen. “I’m okay.”

  She gave him the sort of look that said, “I beg to differ,” and carried on making up the bed.

  “Right. Get those shoes off and get yourself on there. We need to elevate that ankle and get some more ice on it. And while you’re resting up, I’ll get us something on for tea.”

  Pete did as he was told, this time, purely because he had no other choice.

  Twenty minutes after she had left him propped up on top of her bed, Jenny came back in and found Pete fast asleep. She didn’t have the heart to wake him, so she sat on the chair and quietly pulled out her diary to catch up on what had been going on whilst she was away.

  I found him, she wrote. He’s alive. He’s a handful, but there’s nothing new there. I don’t know when I’m going to have the chance to write in here again, but suffice it to say he’s… I don’t know. He’s beautiful, but damaged; vulnerable, but fiercely independent. I can only think that he’s lonely, and probably afraid, and although I know he’s no good for me; that he’s salt to my wound, I have to be there for him.

  Pete stirred and she looked up.

  “You’re still here, then?” he asked.

  Jenny smiled. “It’s my room.”

  Pete closed his eyes again and Jenny quickly shoved her diary under the bookcase. “Dinner will be ready any minute,” she told him. “Do you think you’ll be up to having a bath afterwards?”

  Pete sniffed at his armpit and let his head fall back on the pillow. “Sorry.”

  When the water was ready, Jenny helped Pete to the bathroom. “Do you need some help getting… changed?” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘undressed’.

  “No!”

  Relieved, she passed him a large towel and tried hard not to smile at his obvious discomfort.

  “Last night…” he started as she was about to leave.

  “When we found you?”

  His mouth struggled to form the words. “I woke up… with no clothes on. Did you…?”

  Jenny stifled a grin. She nodded.

  “Oh.”

  “Your brother helped me,” she added, to give him the comfort of doubt. He nodded and she left him in there with at last a hint of pink in his cheeks.

  Jenny went back to her room and tidied up. She checked that nothing incriminating was out on display and then made sure she had everything she needed to be ready for work in the morning. She tried to read, but her mind was distracted. What had gone on in his childhood that was so bad they wouldn’t speak of it? That the two boys had to hide away from? And was that the reason for his unpredictable behaviour? But then Rachel had said he used to be different, before the crash. The crash that involved Adam’s first wife. So much was going on below the surface with this man and she was determined to try and help him, if he would let her. And then her mind was back to Kate and the stresses of the past few days spilled over and she desperately missed the company of the woman who had been her friend.

  Pete hobbled back from the bathroom and found Jenny sitting with a book in her lap and tears fresh on her cheeks. She looked up and quickly wiped her hand across her face. “Better?” she asked with the best attempt at fake cheer he had ever seen.

  He looked at her. “Definitely. Thanks.” God, he was useless with crying women. He really hoped she wasn’t going to break down on him, but he felt obliged to ask. “Everything okay?”

  Jenny put on a big smile, but her grey eyes were no longer shining. They were dipped to the side. “Fine,” she said.

  “My clothes?” he asked, relieved he had been spared that fate.

  “They’re in the wash. James leant you some pyjamas to be getting on with, though.” She pulled out some cotton bottoms and passed them over. “Go on. I won’t look.” She put a hand across her eyes.

  After a few moments, he was finished. “You can look,” he said and Jenny let her hand fall away. Pete was not impressed. His brother was a good four inches shorter than him and it showed. “May I?” he asked pointing to the bed, and with relief he sat back down and rested his foot up. He could hear her trying hard not to giggle and shot her a dark look, causing her to lose control and erupt into laughter.

  “I could go to your place tomorrow and get you some things, if you like?”
she said, obviously trying hard to be serious again, but failing.

  “I can go there myself,” he told her petulantly.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  This woman was going to be the death of him. Why didn’t she seize any opportunity to get rid? Was she a glutton for punishment? She certainly didn’t seem to have any interest in him outside her obviously misguided sense of duty. She was treating him like a damn child. And if she had, it was the weirdest way of trying to win him over he had ever seen.

  “I could get you some books too, if you like. Your brother says you’ve got some big exams in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, he did, did he? Well, he should have kept his nose out of it.” That’s all he needed, another knife for her to twist in his back.

  “But if they’re important, you don’t want to miss out and fail. And you’d better ring the hospital and let them know you’re in the land of the living. And you should also try to-”

  “I’m fine!”

  “But I was just-”

  “Leave it, Jen.” Oh, he knew he was being horrid to her, but he couldn’t face being railroaded into anything he wasn’t ready for. He saw her chin lift almost imperceptibly as she walked out of the room, but he didn’t have long to ponder any thoughts of guilt before she was back, holding out some tablets.

  “You need to take these.”

  She was sore at him, he could tell. He’d upset enough women in his time to know what sore looked like. He would apologise… later.

  “I’m going downstairs to talk to Heather and Chloe. Try and get some rest. Would you like me to put on some music?” She showed him the half dozen CDs she owned.

  “Is that it?” he asked, dumbfounded.

  Jenny nodded. “I like what I like.”

  Pete looked at the selection of CDs in horror. They didn’t look like anything he would be into. “No thanks,” he said.

  By the time Jenny returned, Pete was dead to the world. She pulled the covers up over his body, her stomach clenching as it slipped up across his toned, lean abdomen. She noticed a scar on his right-hand side that looked old and mostly hidden under his arm and she hovered above him, watching him quietly breathing. His mouth twitched and it occurred to her what she wouldn’t give to be kissed by those lips… on another day… after the storm. But she couldn’t let him see that. Risk seeing him reject her? No. As good as the thoughts might be, she had to hide her heart from view.