Questions of Trust A Medical Romance - By Sam Archer Page 0,7

alone.

Or that her every emotion, every action, was being acted out on a bedrock of that most corrosive of all human afflictions: a profound bitterness which nobody, not her parents or her closest friends, could possibly guess she harboured.

Chloe shut her eyes for a moment. She was aware she had let herself down. Long ago, she’d vowed that part of her new life with Jake would involve her never brooding, never dwelling on what had happened, and what might have been. Brooding created fertile ground for the weeds of apathy and despair to take root. And she couldn’t allow that to happen. She owed it to Jake, even more than to herself, not to permit it.

She drained the last dregs of her third mug of coffee and fired back an email to the editor of the Pemberham Gazette with her article attached, then opened a blank document and began to jot down ideas for further pieces.

***

Tom stepped out of the surgery door into brilliant sunshine, the kind of fresh golden light you only really saw for a brief period at the beginning of the spring before the haze of summer set in. For a moment he stopped, savouring the prickle of the blossoms in his nostrils, the gentle intermittent breeze on his face.

It was 12.30 in the afternoon. He’d finished his morning surgery on time, and had a leisurely half hour to wend his way across town to pick Kelly up from the nursery. There were a few errands to be done this afternoon, including a visit to the supermarket, but he enjoyed even mundane tasks such as these when he had his daughter as company. Four precious hours with her, and then the sitter would take over and he’d be back at work for the evening shift.

He’d turned the key in the Ford’s ignition when the phone rang on the seat beside him.

Tom glanced down, saw the name that came up on the screen. He hesitated through one ring. Two. The vibrating phone shuddered in a slow circle on the seat.

He could ignore it, let it go to voicemail. Pick Kelly up, have a nice afternoon with her. Then, when it was time for him to go back to work, listen to the message. But he knew it wouldn’t be as straightforward as that, knew there’d be another call, and another, until he relented.

Sighing, he killed the engine and picked up the handset, thumbed the green button.

‘Hello, Rebecca,’ he said.

‘Tom.’

The sound of her voice made him close his eyes, a complex mix of emotions flooding through him as always.

‘I’m just on my way to pick Kelly up from nursery,’ he said.

‘I’m fine, Tom, and thank you for asking,’ she said. He closed his eyes again. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to remind you about the twenty-fifth.’

She fell silent. Tom said, ‘The twenty-fifth?’ It was next week Friday. ‘What’s –’

‘You have forgotten. I thought so. Just as well I’m ringing, then, isn’t it?’

‘Hang on. Give me a minute.’ He racked his brains. Down the line he seemed to sense her enjoying his discomfort.

After thirty seconds he gave up. ‘Sorry. Remind me.’

‘Andrew and I are going away to Paris for the weekend, and we’re taking Kelly with us. Remember?’

It hit him like a spotlight being turned on full beam. ‘Oh, God. Is that next week?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you said it was months ahead.’

‘It was. When we discussed it. Before Christmas.’

‘Before Christmas? Surely not.’ But he dimly recalled the conversation, the sleet falling outside as he struggled to get Kelly ready for some outing or other, desperate for his ex-wife to finish her phone call to him so that he could get on. And she was absolutely right. He’d agreed to send Kelly away with Rebecca and the other man. Now, with the prospect looming of being separated from his daughter for a full two and a half days, he felt sick with anguish.

‘Andrew will come and pick her up on Friday afternoon –’

‘No.’ He spoke more forcefully than he’d intended. ‘Where are you flying from?’

‘Stansted, but –’

‘I’ll bring her there. Let me know the time.’ He hadn’t planned for this, so he’d have to find some way of taking next Friday afternoon off. It wouldn’t be easy. But he didn’t want that other man spending any longer with Kelly than was strictly necessary.

‘All right.’ She sighed heavily. Theatrically, Tom thought.

‘One more thing, while you’re on the line,’ said Tom.

She waited.

‘You haven’t given Kelly a toy monkey at all,