Fairytale With The Single Dad

CHAPTER THREE

HE WAS SITTING there trying to listen to Sydney, hearing her telling stories of veterinary school and some of the cases she’d worked on, but all he could think about as he sat opposite her was that she was so very beautiful and seemed completely unaware of it.

It was there even in the way she sat. The way she held her teacup—not using the handle but wrapping her hands around the whole cup, as if it was keeping her warm. The way her whole face lit up when she laughed, which he was beginning to understand was rare. He’d wondered what she would look like when she smiled and now he knew. It was so worth waiting for. Her whole face became animated, unburdened by her past. It was lighter. Purer. Joyous. And infectious. Dangerously so.

And those eyes of hers! The softest of greys, like ash.

He was unnerved. He really had just wanted to meet her for this drink and clear the air after yesterday’s abrupt meeting in his surgery. And to thank her for helping Lottie after her attack. But something else was happening. He was being sucked in. Hypnotised by her. Listening to her stories, listening to her talk. He liked the sound of her voice. Her gentle tone.

He was trying—so hard—to keep reminding himself that this woman was just going to be a friend.

Sydney worked hard. Very hard. All her tales were of work. Of animals. Of surgeries. She’d not mentioned her daughter once and he knew he couldn’t. Not unless she brought up the subject first. If she wanted to share that with him then it had to be her choice.

He understood that right now Sydney needed to keep the conversation light. This was a new thing for her. This blossoming friendship. She was like a tiny bird that was trying its hardest not to be frightened off by the large tom cat sitting watching it.

‘Sounds as if you work very hard.’

She smiled, and once again his blood stirred. ‘Thank you. I do. But I enjoy it. Animals give you so much. Without agenda. Unconditionally.’

‘Do you have pets yourself? It must be hard not to take home all the cases that pull at your heart strings.’

‘I have a cat. Just one. She’s ten now. But she’s very independent—like me. Magic does her own thing, and when we both get home after a long day she either curls up on my lap or in my bed.’

Her face lit up as she spoke of Magic, but she blushed as she realised she’d referenced her bed to him.

A vision crossed his mind. That long dark hair of hers spread out over a pillow. Those almond-shaped smoky eyes looking at him, relaxed and inviting, as she lay tangled in a pure white sheet…

But he pushed the thought away. As lovely as Sydney was, he couldn’t go there. This was friendship. Nothing else. He had Anna to think about. And his health.

He had no idea for how long he would stay relatively unscathed by his condition. His MS had been classified as ‘relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis’. Which meant that he would have clear attacks of his symptoms, which would slowly get better and go away completely—until the next attack. But he knew that as the disease progressed his symptoms might not go away at all. They would linger. Stay. Get worse with each new attack, possibly leaving him disabled. But he was holding on to the thought that it wouldn’t happen soon. That he would stay in relative good health for a long time.

But he could not, in any good conscience, put anyone else through that. Who deserved that?

And he had a child to think about. A child who had already lost her mother because of him. Who did not know what it was like to have that kind of female influence in her life. Bringing someone home would be a shock to Anna. It might upset her. It might bring up all those questions about having a mother again.

Sydney Harper was just going to be his friend.

That was all.

He smiled as she talked, trying not to focus all of his attention on her mouth, and pushed thoughts of what it would be like to kiss her completely out of his head.

Later, he offered to walk her back to work.

‘Oh, that’s not necessary. You don’t have to do that,’ she protested.

‘I might as well. I’m heading that way to pick up my pager as I’m on call tonight.’

She nodded her reluctant acceptance and swung her bag over her shoulder. Together they exited into the street.

It was a cold November day. With blue skies, just a few wispy white clouds and a chill in the air when they moved into the shade and lost the sun.

They walked along together, respectfully a few inches apart. But she was so aware of him and trying her hardest not to be.

Nathan Jones was delicious. Of course she was physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? Aside from his good looks, this man was intelligent. A good listener. Not at all judgemental. He’d seemed really interested in her. He’d asked questions without being too probing and really paid attention to her answers.

She was very much aware that although they had just spent an hour in each other’s company she still didn’t know much about him. They’d both edged around serious subjects. They’d both avoided talk of past traumas and upsets. And they’d both kept everything light. Unthreatening. No mention of the baggage that each of them had to be carrying.

She liked that about him. It was as if he knew what she needed.

She frowned, spotting someone from the local council up a ladder, arranging the Christmas lights. ‘It gets earlier and earlier each year.’

Nathan nodded. ‘I love Christmas.’

She certainly didn’t want to talk to him about that!

She changed the subject. ‘Do you know your way around Silverdale yet?’ she asked him, aware that the village had many tiny roads, closes and cul-de-sacs. And now, with the new build of over two hundred new homes on the edge of Silverdale, a lot of new roads had popped up that even she was unfamiliar with.

‘Not really. But the GPS system in the car helps.’

‘If you ever need help finding your way I could help you out. I know most places. Just pop in and ask at the desk.’

He looked at her. ‘Thanks. If I ever get a call-out to the middle of nowhere I’ll be sure to call in and pick you up first.’

Sydney glanced at him quickly, then looked away. That was a joke, surely? She’d meant that he could call in to her work and ask whoever was on Reception.

She felt his gaze upon her then, and she flushed with heat as they came to a stop outside her veterinary practice.

‘Well, thank you for the tea. And the shortbread.’

‘It was my pleasure.’

‘I’ll see you at the end of the week? When you bring in Lottie again?’ she added.

The rabbit was due another check-up, so she could look at its eye and see if it needed removing or not.

‘Hopefully I’ll see you before that.’

Her heart pounded in her chest. What did he mean?

‘Why?’

‘Because we’re friends now, and friends see each other any time—not just at preordained appointments.’ He smiled and held out his hand.

She blushed. ‘Of course.’

She took his hand in hers and tried to give him a firm handshake, but she couldn’t. All she could think of was that he was touching her. And she him! And that his hand felt warm and strong. Protective. It felt good, and she briefly imagined what it might feel like if he pulled her into his arms and pressed her against his chest.

He let go, and when he did she felt an odd sense of disappointment.

Now, why am I feeling that?

She stared back at him, unsure of how to say goodbye to this new friend. Should she give a small wave and go inside? Should they just say goodbye and walk away? Or should there be some sort of kiss on the cheek?

But if I kissed him and liked it…

‘Well…maybe I’ll see you later, then?’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Right. Bye.’

‘Goodbye, Sydney.’

And then, with some hesitation, he leaned in and kissed the side of her face.

She sucked in a breath. His lips had only brushed her cheek, and were gone again before she could truly appreciate it, but for the millisecond he’d made contact her body had almost imploded. Her heart had threatened to jump out of her chest. Her face must have looked as red as a stop sign.

She watched him turn and walk across the road to his place of work and she stood there, breathing heavily, her fingers pressed to her face where his lips had been, and wondered what the hell she was doing.

With this friendship with Dr Nathan Jones.

Technically, they hadn’t done anything. Just shared a pot of tea. A plate of shortbread. A quick chat and a walk to work.

But all she could think of was how he’d looked when he’d smiled at her. His beautiful blue eyes. The way he’d listened, the way he’d filled the space of the cafeteria chair, all relaxed and male and virile. How attracted she was to him physically. How his lips had felt…and how frightened that made her feel.

Sydney turned and went into her own place of work.

She needed to cool down.

In more ways than one.

And she needed to stay away from Dr Nathan Jones. He was going to be trouble.

The kiss had been an impulse. To fill an awkward pause. It was just what he did when he left female friends or relatives. He kissed them goodbye.

It didn’t mean anything. The fact that he’d breathed in her scent as he’d leaned in…the fact that his lips had felt scorched the second they’d touched her soft cheek…the fact that he’d got a shot of adrenaline powerful enough to launch an armada meant nothing.

Did it?

It was just that it was something new. A new friendship. The fact that she was the most stunningly beautiful woman he’d met in a long time had nothing to do with it. He felt for her. She’d been through a trauma. The loss of a daughter was something he simply couldn’t imagine. The fact that she was still standing, smiling and talking to people was a miracle, quite frankly. He couldn’t picture going through that and having the power or strength to carry on afterwards. And she was so nice! Easy to talk to. Friendly once you got past that prickly exterior she’d erected. But he could understand why that was there.

What he felt for her was protective. That was all. And didn’t friends look out for one another?

Crossing the road, he called in to the surgery and picked up his pager for the evening, along with a list of house calls that needed to be completed before he had to pick up Anna at three-thirty. He had a good few hours’ worth of work ahead of him, but he was distracted.

A simple coffee had been something else.

And he was afraid to admit to himself just what it had been.

Sydney sat hunched up on her couch, clutching a mug of cold tea and worrying at a loose bit of skin on her lip. Behind her head lay Magic the cat, asleep on the back of the couch, her long black tail twitching with dreams. The house was silent except for the ticking of the clock in the hallway, and Sydney’s gaze was upon the picture of her daughter in the centre of the mantelpiece.

In the picture Olivia was laughing, smiling, her little hands reaching up to catch all the bubbles that her mum was blowing through a bubble wand.

She could remember that day perfectly. It had been during the summer holiday before Olivia was due to start school and it had been a Sunday. Alastair—Sydney’s husband and Olivia’s father—had gone to the supermarket to do a food-shop and Sydney and Olivia had been playing in the back garden. Her daughter had been so happy. Chasing bubbles, giggling. Gasping when Sydney made a particularly large one that had floated up higher and higher until it had popped, spraying them with wetness. She’d been chasing down and splatting the smaller ones that she could reach.

‘Mummy, look!’ she’d said when she’d found a bubble or two resting on her clothes.

Sydney remembered the awe and excitement in her daughter’s eyes. They’d been happy times. When they’d all believed that life for them was perfect. That nothing could spoil it. Olivia had been about to start infant school; Sydney had been going back to work full-time. It had been their last summer together. The last summer they’d enjoyed.

Before it had all changed. Before it had all gone dreadfully wrong.

Why did I not listen when she told me she had a headache?

She tried to keep on remembering that summer day. The sound of her daughter’s deep-throated chuckles, the smile on her face. But she couldn’t.

Every time she allowed herself to think of Olivia her thoughts kept dragging her back to that morning when she’d found her unconscious in her bed. To the deadly silence of the room except for her daughter’s soft, yet ragged breaths. To the dread and the sickness in her stomach as she’d realised that something was desperately, deeply wrong. That her daughter wouldn’t wake up no matter how much Sydney called her name. To the moment when she’d unzipped her onesie to see that rash.

If Olivia had lived—if meningitis had not got its sneaky grasp on her beautiful, precious child—then she would have been nine years old now. In junior school. There’d be school pictures on the mantel. Pictures that showed progress. Life. But her pictures had been frozen in time. There would be no more pictures of Olivia appearing on the walls. No more videos on her phone. No paintings on her fridge.

And I could have prevented it all if only I’d paid more attention. Alastair was right. It was all my fault.

Sydney put down her mug and hugged her knees. The anniversary of Olivia’s death was getting closer. It was a day she dreaded, that relentlessly came round every year, torturing her with thoughts of what she might have done differently. Tonight she would not be able to sleep. At all.

I can’t just sit here and go through that insomnia again!

She got up off the couch and looked about her for something to do. Maybe declutter a cupboard or something? Deep-clean the kitchen? Go through her books and choose some for the bookstall at the Christmas market? Something… Anything but sit there and dwell on what ifs!

The doorbell rang, interrupting her agonising.

She froze, then felt a rush of relief.

Thank goodness! I don’t care who you are, but I’m going to talk to you. Anything to get my mind off where it’s going!

She opened the door.

Nathan!

‘Oh. Hi.’ She’d never expected him to turn up at her door. How did he know where she lived?

Nathan looked a little uncomfortable. Uncertain. ‘I…er…apologise for just turning up at your house like this.’

‘Is it Lottie?’

He shook his head and scratched at his chin, looking up and down the road. ‘No. I’ve…er…got a call-out. Nothing urgent, but…’

She’d thought that what he’d said previously about calling in on her had been a joke. Had he actually meant it?

Spending more time with the delicious Nathan since that kiss on her cheek had seemed a bad idea. She’d made a firm decision to avoid him. And now here he was!

As if in answer to her unspoken question he looked sheepish as he said, ‘I looked up your home address at work. Sorry. It’s just… I tried to use my GPS, but it hasn’t been updated for a while and it led me to a field, so… I need your help.’

He needed to find an address! She had offered to help him with that, and though she’d told herself—harshly—not to spend time alone with Nathan Jones again, she was now reconsidering it. After hours of feeling herself being pulled down a dark tunnel towards all those thoughts that tortured her on a nightly basis—well, right now she welcomed his interruption. What else would she be doing anyway?

Not sleeping. That was what. The damn pills he’d given her just didn’t seem to be having the desired effect. Were they different from last year’s? She couldn’t remember.

Nathan though was the king of light and fluffy, and that was what she needed. Plus it would be interesting to see what he did at work. And she would be helping by telling him the way to go. Anything was better than sitting in this house for another night, staring at the walls, waiting for sleep to claim her.

‘Sure. I’ll just get my keys.’

She tried not to be amused by the look of shock on his face when she agreed. Instead she just grabbed her coat, locked up and headed out to his car—a beat-up four-wheel drive that, quite frankly, looked as if it deserved to be in a wrecker’s yard. There were dents, one panel of the car was a completely different colour from the rest of it, and where it wasn’t covered in rust it was covered in mud. Even the number-plate was half hanging off, looking as if it wanted to escape.

She looked at the vehicle uncertainly. ‘Does that actually work?’

He smiled fondly at it. ‘She’s old, but she always starts. I promise it’s clean on the inside.’ He rubbed the back of his neck.

Sydney almost laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a matching one over there.’ She pointed at her own vehicle and saw him notice the dried sprays of mud—not just up the bodywork, but over the back windows too.

He smiled, relaxing a little. ‘That makes me feel much better.’

Sydney smiled and got into his car. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Long Wood Road?’

She nodded. ‘I know it. It’s a couple of miles from here. Take this road out of the village and when you get to the junction at the end turn right.’

‘Thanks.’ He gunned the engine and began to drive.

Strangely, she felt lighter. More in control. And it felt great not to be sitting in her cottage, staring at those pictures.

‘Who are you going to see?’

‘Eleanor Briggs?’

‘I know her. She has a Russian Blue cat called Misty.’

‘I’m not seeing her about Misty. I’m afraid I can’t say why. Patient confidentiality prohibits me sharing that with you.’

‘That’s okay.’ She smiled as he began heading to the outskirts of Silverdale.

It felt good next to him. Comfortable. Was that because this was business? And because he was working?

The focus isn’t on me. Or us. This is just one professional helping out another.

She’d never been comfortable with being the focus of people’s attention. Even as a child she’d tried to hide when she was in the school choir, or a school play. Trying her hardest not to be given a main role, trying not to be noticed. At university, when she’d had to give a solo presentation on the dangers of diabetes in dogs, she’d almost passed out from having to stand at the front of the lecture hall and present to her lecturers and tutor. The pressure!

But here they were, stuck in a car together, music on the radio, and she was much more relaxed. This was much better than being stuck at home, staring at old pictures that broke her heart.

Glancing at him driving, she noticed he’d rolled up his sleeves and that his forearms were lightly tanned, and filled with muscle as he changed gear. A chunky sports watch enveloped his wrist. He had good arms. Attractive arms. She glanced away.

A song came on that she knew and quietly she began singing and bobbing her head to the music.

Nathan looked over at her. ‘You like this?’

Sydney nodded and he turned up the sound. She began to sing louder as it got to the chorus, laughing suddenly as Nathan joined in. Out of tune and clearly tone deaf.

They began to drive down a country road.

Silverdale was Sydney’s whole life. A small pocket of English countryside that she felt was all hers. The place where she’d hoped to raise her daughter. In its community atmosphere where everyone looked out for one another.

Pushing the thought to one side, she turned back to Nathan. He was concentrating on the road now that the song was over and the DJ was babbling, his brow slightly furrowed, both hands gripping the wheel.

‘You need to take the next left. Long Woods Road.’

Nathan indicated, following the twists and turns of her directions, and soon she was pointing out Eleanor’s small cottage. They turned into the driveway and parked in front of the house. Killing the engine, he turned to her. ‘Thank you. I wouldn’t have got here without you.’

‘And I wouldn’t have had my eardrums assaulted.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘Your singing.’

‘I have a lovely voice. I’ll have you know that when I was in my school choir I was the only child not selected to sing a solo.’

She smirked. ‘You should be proud.’

‘I am.’

Then he grinned and reached for his bag, which was down by her feet. She moved slightly, out of his way, as he lifted it up and past her.

He was smiling still. Looking at her. She watched as his gaze dropped to her mouth and instantly the atmosphere changed.

Sydney looked away, pretending that something out of the window had caught her eye.

‘Will you be okay for a while? I can leave the radio on.’

She didn’t look at him, but dug her phone from her pocket. ‘I’ve got my phone. I’m playing a word game against my veterinary nurse.’

Nathan said nothing, but got out of the car. Once he was gone, she suddenly felt alone. His presence had filled the car, and now that he was gone it seemed so empty. The only reminder a very faint aroma of cologne. She would never have thought that spending time with Nathan would be so easy, after their coffee together. But he’d been just what she needed tonight. Bad singing included.

In the sky above stars were beginning to filter through the dark, twinkling and shining. She looked for the biggest and brightest. Olivia’s star. The one she had once pointed out to her daughter as her very own special light. Just remembering that night with her daughter made her eyes sting with unshed tears, but she blinked them away.

I can’t keep crying. I’ve got to be stronger than this!

She switched on her phone and stared at the game she no longer wanted to play.

It was pitch-black along the country roads as they followed behind another four-wheel drive that was towing a horsebox. In the back, Sydney could see a large black horse, easily fifteen hands high. Was it the Daltons? They had a horse like that. Though she guessed it could be the Webbers’ horse. They had one like it too. Or maybe it wasn’t anyone she knew. She didn’t get called out to all the horses in the Silverdale area. There was a specialised equine veterinary service in Norton Town. Sometimes she worked alongside it.

As they drove back along Long Wood Road, Sydney realised she was feeling more relaxed and happy than she had for a few weeks. It was strange. Perhaps it was a good thing not to be wallowing in her memories tonight. Perhaps getting out and about and doing something was the right thing to do.

I need a hobby. An evening class. Something. Maybe it’ll be better when we start those meetings for the Christmas market and fête.

What she knew for sure was that she had felt better when she’d seen Nathan returning to the car. Seen his smile. Felt his warmth. Knowing that he wasn’t the type to pry into her past. He made her feel weirdly comfortable, despite the physical response she felt. It was something she hadn’t felt for a long time, and she was really glad she’d agreed to come out with him and spend some more time with him.

She was just about to say something about it—thank him for earlier—when she spotted something, off to Nathan’s right, illuminated by the lights of the vehicles. It was a small herd of deer, running across the field at full pelt.

‘Nathan, look!’ She pointed.

There had to be seven or eight. Mostly fully grown and running hard. The lead deer had full antlers, like tree branches.

And they were heading straight for the road.

‘I think I’m going to slow down.’

But as Nathan slowed their vehicle it became clear that the vehicle in front, with the horse trailer, had continued on at a normal speed.

Sydney leaned forward. ‘Have they not seen them? What can we do?’

Nathan hit his horn, hoping it would make the driver ahead pay attention, or at least startle the deer into heading in another direction, but neither happened.

The biggest deer burst through the undergrowth, leaping over the ditch and straight out onto the road—right in front of the other vehicle.

Sydney watched, horrified, and brake lights lit up her face as the car in front tried to swerve at the last minute, but failed. The horsebox at the back wobbled, bouncing from left to right with the weight of the horse inside, before it tipped over and pulled the car straight into the ditch. The rest of the deer leapt by, over the road and into the next field.

Nathan hit the brakes, stopping the car. ‘Call for help.’

Her heart was pounding madly in her chest. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to check for casualties. After you’ve contacted emergency services go into the boot of the car and find the reflective triangle and put it in the road. We’re on a bend here, and we need to warn other traffic. We’re sitting ducks.’

Then he grabbed his bag and was gone.

She watched him run over to the car through the light of the headlamps as she dialled 999 with shaking fingers. As she watched Nathan trying to talk to someone she saw the driver fall from the driver’s side. Then her gaze fell upon the horse in the horsebox. It was moving. Alive.

I have to get out there!

But she had no equipment. No bag. No medicines. She felt helpless. Useless! She’d felt this way just once before.

I’ll be damned if I feel that way again!

‘Which service do you require?’ A voice spoke down the phone.

‘All of them. We need them all.’