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Knave of Hearts
Knave of Hearts
Caroline Anderson
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
WHAT a way to spend Valentine’s Day, Anne thought wearily as she stripped off her gloves. The most romantic day of the year, and what am I doing? Inserting perineal sutures!
‘Congratulations.’ Smiling tiredly at the happy parents of a brand-new baby boy, she left them in the care of the midwife, her suturing finished.
It had been a tricky labour and she’d had to use Keilland’s forceps to turn the baby before she could deliver him safely.
Theatre had been alerted, and the locum covering for Jo Carter, Anne’s senior registrar and boss, had been contacted in case he was required.
In the event Anne had managed without any problems, and she imagined the locum had gone home.
She was wrong.
The new guy’s waiting for you in Sister’s office,’ one of the junior midwives told her.
‘Lucky you,’ her colleague said with a laugh. ‘I wish he was waiting for me!’
Anne smiled wryly. ‘Not another Casanova,’ she sighed theatrically.
The nurses tittered.
‘He’s like a cross between Superman and Dirty Harry,’ the second girl told her. ‘Just point him in my direction if you’ve got no use for him!’
Just then Sister walked out of her office and the two trainee midwives snapped to attention and faded out of the corridor like magic.
‘Ah, Dr Gabriel,’ she said. ‘All finished? Come and meet Dr Carter’s locum. I have to go and see someone in the other delivery-room, but I think it’s straightforward. I’ll call you if I need you.’ She smiled conspiratorially and lowered her voice. ‘Take your time—I gather you’re old friends.’
Anne frowned in puzzlement after the woman as she walked briskly down the corridor.
‘Old friends?’
With a shake of her head, Anne walked through the door and stopped dead in her tracks.
It couldn’t be … could it?
‘Jake …?’
‘Hello, Annie. Happy Valentine’s Day.’
The man was lounging against the window, and as she stood there he shouldered himself away from the glass and moved towards her.
He was tallish, perhaps not quite six feet, but broad and well muscled, heavier than she remembered him but with the sleek heaviness of a big cat, all controlled power and rippling masculinity. His hair was dark, almost black, and fell forwards over his brow. It was shorter than it had been—it always used to fall over his eyes, but nearly eight years could bring a lot of changes.
There were other changes, too—lines around his eyes and mouth, not just the laughter lines that had always been there but the others that came with maturity, although in his case more likely just with age. His jaw was heavily shadowed but then it always was, even when he had just shaved. It was typical of his blatant sexuality that he had always needed to shave twice a day, she remembered with painful clarity.
He reached her then, his brooding, sensual face softened by a smile that cut deep grooves into his cheeks and set his eyes alight, those warm, deep brown eyes that could see right through you and could melt the deepest recesses of your heart—if you let them.
Annie had, once—long, long ago—but never again. She turned away.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, her voice rough with shock.
‘I thought you’d know all about it—Jo asked me.’
Jo—of course. Jo had a thing about old friends, especially the ones who’d all lived together in their student days. She was always trying to get them together again—and Annie was always trying to avoid it. Until now she’d succeeded, but now—well, now Jake was here, just inches away from her, churning up all the old, long-buried feelings that she’d hoped she’d forgotten. Oh, God, don’t let it be true, she prayed.
But it was true. She could feel him behind her, his body almost pulsating with life and vitality, coming off him like waves and lapping round her, unsettling all her carefully created status quo and seeping through the cracks in her defences. She almost laughed. Defences? Against Jake?
‘No hug for your old friend?’ he said softly, and suddenly there was a roaring in her ears as the waves came in over her head, swamping her.
The last thing she was aware of was the strength of his arms around her and the familiar scent of his aftershave, mingled with something elementally male and definitely Jake. With a soft sigh, she sagged against him and sank slowly into blackness.
His body was hard and strong and achingly familiar, and against her ear his heart beat steadily. Anne allowed herself a couple of seconds of self-indulgence before she opened her eyes and lifted her head from his chest.
That was a very flattering welcome,’ he said gently, his eyes smiling.
Annie struggled to sit up, but his arms were still holding her and he wouldn’t let her go.
Take it steady,’ he cautioned, and then, releasing her, he eased her from his arms and stood up, leaving her on the big, soft chair in the corner of Sister’s office.
‘I’m tired,’ she said defensively. ‘I was up most of the night.’
‘So I gather—you should have called for help.’
She laughed humourlessly. ‘I’m an SHO—they’re expendable. Anyway, I didn’t know it was you.’
He met her eyes, and all the laughter was gone from his. ‘Is seeing me again really such bad news?’
Annie looked down at her hands, then back at him, making herself meet those gentle, searching eyes. ‘I’m not the person I was, Jake,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s been nearly eight years—things are different now. We aren’t at college any more, and I—I have responsibilities.’
‘Your daughter—Jo tells me she’s delightful.’
Anne looked away, unable suddenly to meet his eyes. ‘Yes—yes, she’s a real joy to me.’
Jake shifted, moving to the window to stare out at the light scattering of snow that blanketed the countryside behind the hospital.
‘Why didn’t you marry Duncan?’ he asked, his voice carefully casual.
Her heart crashed against her ribs. ‘I decided it wasn’t fair,’ she said carefully. ‘I didn’t love him the way I——’ She stopped herself in the nick of time.
‘The way you should?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed readily. ‘And it seemed unfair to a baby to have such a shaky start. My parents were very supportive.’
‘I would have married you, Annie, even though she wasn’t mine.’
She drew in a sharp breath. I must tell him, but not now, she thought frantically. Not here, in the hospital in front of anybody who walks in, and not now, out of the blue after all these years.
Sister popped her head round the door.
‘Anne, I’m sorry to disturb you but we need your help for a forceps delivery. Would you mind?’
She stood up. ‘Not at all, Sister. I’ll come right away.’
She turned to Jake. ‘Are you around later? There’s a lot to tell you. How about this evening?’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t—I’m going down to my parents’ to collect all my stuff. How about tomorrow evening?’
She thought quickly. ‘Eight?’ She could have Beth in bed by then. ‘I’m only on duty until five tomorrow, then I hand over to the other team.’
‘Fine. I’ll see you at your place—that way you won’t have to get a babysitter. What’s the address?’
‘Eight Bloomingdale Way,’ she told him.
A slow smile spread over his face. ‘Great. I’ll see you then, if not before.’
It was a long day, and an even longer night. She snatched a couple of hours to go and see Beth, who was with her childminder for the weekend as usual when Anne was on call, but for the most part her mind was on Jake and how she was going to break the news.
She didn’t see him again until Monday morning in the canteen, still in theatre greens and looking rumpled and deliciously sexy.
He came over and sat with her, and she noticed instantly that there were lines of strain around his eyes.
‘Problems?’ she asked quietly.
He shook his head. ‘Not really. I’ve just done three terminations on the trot—God, I hate it. I thought I was finished with all that.’
He must be referring to his posh New York clinic, Annie thought without compassion. She knew abortions were an unpleasant but sometimes necessary part of Obs and Gynae, but actively to seek to make money from it seemed the height of obscenity.
‘It keeps them away from the back streets,’ she said now, and he laughed without humour.
‘Oh, I know. There are pros and cons, and women in the middle fought over as if they were simply potting compost without any rights of their own, but I still hate doing it, and I hate myself for doing it, especially when it could so easily have been avoided by the simple expedient of birth control. God knows it’s readily enough available over here.’
And it wasn’t in the States? Annie stood up quickly before her tongue ran away with her. She really didn’t need to get into an argument with Jake of all people about the availability of birth control!
‘I have to go—don’t forget tonight.’
He tipped back his head, his eyes curiously intense. ‘When did I ever forget you, Annie?’ he asked softly.
Anne walked away, her legs shaking slightly. When did he forget? He’d totally ignored her for the last seven and a half years, and he didn’t even remember doing it!
It was a busy day, with several deliveries requiring her attention, but finally she got away and collected Beth from the childminder at five-thirty.
‘Can I play in the snow?’ she asked Anne.
‘Darling, it’s dark—and what about your homework?’
‘It’s only boring old reading, and I don’t want to do it—I’ll do it later.’
‘You’ll do it now,’ Anne corrected firmly.
‘No, I won’t! Jenny doesn’t make me! I hate you!’ she sobbed, and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Anne took a deep breath. Of course Beth didn’t hate her, she was just crabby after the weekend. She hated her mother being on call, certainly, but she didn’t hate her mother.
Holding that thought, Anne picked up Beth’s rucksack of overnight clothes and teddies from the hall floor and followed the sound of her daughter’s sobbing up the stairs.
She found her, face down on the bed, her tear-stained face buried in the pillow.
‘Beth?’ She perched on the edge of the bed and stretched out her hand, ruffling her daughter’s thick, dark hair. ‘Baby? Talk to me.’
‘I hate you,’ came the mumbled response.
Anne sighed. ‘Did you miss me?’
‘No.’
‘I missed you. Did you play in the snow with Jenny’s children?’
A sniff was followed by a nod.
‘Did you build a snowman?’
Another nod.
She let her hand fall to Beth’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Why don’t you tell me all about him while we have our supper? And then we can sit in the sitting-room and read your book together before you have your bath. OK?’
Beth sniffed hard, and rolled over.
‘Can we have pizza?’
Anne groaned and rolled her eyes theatrically. ‘Again?’
Beth giggled, her tears forgotten. ‘Yes—I like pizza. Can I put the extra things on it?’
‘Oh, darling, I haven’t got any fresh vegetables and there’s nothing much in the freezer.’
‘Cheese?’ Beth suggested hopefully.
‘I think there might be some cheese. Shall we go and look?’
She stood up and held out her hand, and her daughter slid off the edge of the bed and slipped her little hand into Anne’s.
Strange, Anne thought, how comforting another person’s touch can be. They found cheese, and even a rather sorry tomato, and Beth decorated the frozen pizzas while Anne rummaged in the vegetable rack for edible potatoes. She had meant to go shopping, but Beth was so crabby and with Jake coming tonight …
She sighed and turned on the tap, and stood staring out over the little cul-de-sac. Light spilt brightly from the houses, and the street lights made gleaming pools of gold on the snow that had fallen on Saturday night. It looked enchanted, and a long way from reality, Anne thought drily.
She noticed that most of the drives were cleared, including hers—now which of her kind neighbours had done that for her? They’d even cleared the one next door, though that was pointless, because nobody lived there at the moment.
Several of the semi-detached houses, including Anne’s and its partner, belonged to the hospital and were used primarily as family accommodation for doctors moving to the area, to give them a stop-gap dwelling until they found somewhere permanent to live. The hospital had agreed to let Anne’s house to her for the duration of her SHO year in view of the fact that she had a child, and by an amazing stroke of luck the woman directly across the street from her, Jenny Harvey, was a registered childminder who had in the past looked after the children of hospital staff.
Not only was she very nice and extremely convenient, but she was also thoroughly familiar with hospital routine and quite happy to collect Beth from school with her own children and look after her at the weekend when necessary.
Anne would be lost without her, and she was well aware of that fact.
With another sigh, she picked up her vegetable knife and started peeling the rather ancient potatoes.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked Beth.
‘OK—shall I put them under the grill?’
Anne turned and looked over her shoulder. ‘Very pretty—put them on the grill pan, but let me light it.’
She dried her hands and struck a match, then fiddled with the temperamental grill until it lit with a great whoosh and settled down.
She put the pizzas under a low flame and turned back to the sink. She mustn’t complain about the cooker. Really, they were lucky to have a roof over their heads, even if they did have to pay for it. The house was functional rather than cosy, but she had done her best in her limited spare time to bring an air of homeliness to it for Beth’s sake, and they were very happy there.
It was their first home alone together, having lived previously with Anne’s parents, and she was determined to make the best of it. Her parents had offered to continue to support her, but, apart from the need to be independent, once Beth had started at school Anne knew she would find time hanging heavily on her hands.
Her house year interrupted by her pregnancy, she had moved to Edinburgh to her parents’ home and with their help had completed the second half of her house year in a local hospital before settling down to raising Beth. Now, Beth was older, and Anne had to make a life for them without help from other people. It wasn’t just a case of pride, it was a fundamental need to survive out in the open away from the loving but often suffocating support of her parents.
They had moved from Edinburgh to Norwich a year ago, and when the job had come up only thirty miles from them, it had seemed too good to be true. She could have her independence, but she needn’t be too isolated from them and Beth wouldn’t lose touch with her grandparents. Sometimes, though, when the heating played up or the grill wouldn’t light or the curtain tracks fell down, Anne wondered if it was all worth it.
Turning the temperamental grill down, she sliced the potatoes and par-boiled them before frying them in a little olive oil, telling herself that they weren’t really chips and would be good for them, although God knew there couldn’t have been much vitamin C left in the withered little offerings.
She really must get to the shops tomorrow. No wonder she had fainted in Jake’s arms—it was just the combination of a hectic schedule and a lousy diet.
Beth had laid the table, the knives and forks the wrong way round, and Anne adjusted them quickly while she wasn’t looking.
‘Pizzas are done,’ Beth announced from her station by the cooker, peering under the grill.
They ate their meagre meal quickly, and then, while the dishes soaked in the sink, they curled up together on the sofa in the little sitting-room that ran the full width of the back of the house, and Beth read her book to Anne.
The homework done, the snowman described in great detail and the tears apparently forgotten, they went upstairs and ran a bath.
While Beth splashed happily with her empty bottles and plastic toys, Anne unpacked the rucksack, hung up Beth’s uniform and found her hot-water bottle.
The heating wasn’t very efficient in the bedrooms, and as Anne tucked her daughter into bed a short while later, she reflected that all they needed to stretch her meagre resources to breaking point was a long, cold winter.
She had to pay Jenny, the rent, all her bills and feed them on a houseman’s salary, and sometimes she wondered how they would get to the end of the month. At the beginning of the month she had bought an ancient and not very reliable little car, the best she could afford, so that they could go out on her few days off and have fun and to enable her to get to the hospital and back quickly to give her more time with Beth at the beginning and end of the day.
She would hate to sell it, but if it came to that she supposed she would have to. Such as it was, it was the only luxury she had left.
Kissing Beth goodnight, she made her way downstairs and quickly washed the dishes, then tidied up the sitting-room and ran upstairs again to change.
It was seven forty-five, so there was no time for a bath before Jake arrived. Knowing Jake, he wouldn’t be late, so she wanted to be ready on time.
She opened her wardrobe doors and sighed. What could she wear? Not that it mattered, but she did want—— Silly girl. Why should it matter what impression she created? She tutted at herself, pulled a clean pair of jeans and an oversized sweater out of the drawer, and then sat down at the dressing-table and cleansed her face before reapplying her make-up.
She wore only the minimum for work, but tonight she stroked a soft, smoky green on to her lids to bring out the hazel of her eyes, and a touch of mascara to lengthen her lashes—not that she could hope to compete with Jake when it came to eyelashes.
A sudden thump from next door made her start. She glared accusingly at the dividing wall, then wiped the mascara off her cheek and peered out of the window. There was light spilling out on to the front garden, and a car on the drive—a BMW by the look of it. Must be a new consultant moved in over the weekend, she mused, and, on the way out of the room, looked at herself critically in the mirror.
Too short, too slight, her figure such as it was shot to bits by childbirth, her hair mousy, her face about as arresting as a blank wall—she turned away from the mirror in resignation, not seeing the gracefulness in her slender body, the appeal of her figure softened by maturity to a gentle womanliness, or the wistful, expressive quality of her large, green-gold eyes above her neat, delicate features framed by soft glossy hair the colour of polished hazelnuts.
Instead, convinced of her bland lack of appeal, she moved quietly through life, content to take a back seat and allow others to enjoy the limelight.
Sometimes she wondered sadly if that was all there was to be to life, but usually she was too busy to consider herself.
Tonight, though—tonight, she had to deal with Jake, and she needed a coat of armour to hide behind, never mind a dash of lipstick!
It was a few minutes before eight, and as she straightened the cushions in the sitting-room and turned up the control on the gas fire in a last vain attempt to make the bleak surroundings homely, she heard little footsteps on the stairs.
Oh, no, not now, she thought desperately.
‘Mummy?’
‘In here, darling.’
Beth’s little face appeared round the door. ‘I don’t really hate you,’ she said seriously.
‘Oh, Beth, I know you don’t!’ Anne held out her arms to her small daughter, and hugged her tight.
‘I missed you, Mummy.’
‘I know—I missed you, too. Still, it won’t be long before I don’t have to work so many weekends, and then we can be together.’
‘If it snows this weekend, can we build a snowman for my birthday?’ Beth asked, her wide eyes doubtful.
‘If it snows, then yes, of course. Now come on, you’ve got school tomorrow—run along up to bed, there’s a good girl.’
Beth lifted up her face for a kiss, and blinked.
‘You’ve got make-up on!’
Anne laughed a little awkwardly. ‘I usually have make-up on.’
Beth shook her head. ‘This is different make-up. You look—prettier.’
Anne blushed slightly.
‘Thank you, darling.’
‘Are you going out?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’ve got a friend coming to see me——’
‘Is it Auntie Jo?’
‘No, she’s——’
‘Auntie Maggie?’
‘No, I——’
They both started slightly as a door slammed next door, and then seconds later their front doorbell rang.
‘I’ll get it!’ Beth yelled.
‘Beth, no!’ Anne wailed, but the child was already down the hall, fumbling with the catch.
Perhaps it’s the new next-door neighbours, Anne thought hopefully, but as the door swung open her worst fears were realised.
‘Oh!’ Beth said with characteristic lack of diplomacy as she eyed the big man lounging in the porch. ‘Are you Mummy’s friend? I thought you’d be a lady—Mummy doesn’t have men friends.’
Jake grinned lazily and shouldered himself away from the wall, shooting Anne a teasing glance over the child’s head. ‘Doesn’t she, now?’
‘Not usually—come in, you’ll let all the heat out and we can’t afford to heat the garden,’ Beth told him solemnly, parroting Anne’s frequent plea.
He laughed, and Beth laughed too, her head tipped back, her face alive with humour, the thick black lashes framing the dark chocolate eyes that sparkled with mischief.
And then it happened.
Jake looked at Beth, then looked again, and emotions one after the other chased across his face. Disbelief, and incredulous joy, and a terrible, fierce anger.
‘What’s your name?’ Beth asked him, her head cocked slightly to one side in a mannerism so familiar that Anne knew he would see it.
He looked across the child at her, his face still wearing a smile for Beth, but his eyes like cold steel, slashing through her.
‘Yes, aren’t you going to introduce me to your daughter?’ he said pointedly, only the slightest hint of a tremor betraying the emotions she could feel ripping through him.
She closed her eyes and counted to five.
‘Darling, this is Mr Hunter. He’s doing Auntie Jo’s work while she’s on holiday. Jake, this is—Elizabeth. We call her Beth.’
He held out his hand.
‘How do you do, Beth?’ he said gently, and a spasm crossed his face as Beth placed her hand trustingly in his and smiled.
‘How do you do, Mr Hunter?’ she echoed, and then giggled.
He almost glared at Anne above the slightly fixed smile. ‘I think Mr Hunter’s going a bit far, don’t you? I tell you what, Beth.’ He dropped to one knee conspiratorially. ‘Why don’t we make it Jake for now, eh? Since we’re going to be neighbours as well?’
‘Neighbours?’ Anne croaked.
He straightened. ‘Oh, yes. I’m going to be living in the house next door—won’t that be cosy? We’ll be able to get to know each other really well.’
