From Heartache To Forever / Melting The Trauma Doc's Heart

‘Ah, no, Ben’s got a new tenant.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘Sorry I can’t help. I hope you find something, Ryan.’

‘I’m sure I will. Never mind. Thanks.’ He turned back to Beth. ‘So—any other ideas?’

‘Baldwins? They’ve got a few properties near me advertised to let. Might be worth asking them. They’ve got an office on the High Street. It depends what you want.’

He laughed, thinking of some of the places he’d slept in over the past two years, and shook his head. ‘I’m not fussy. Just so long as it has a garden. I need to be able to get outside. And somewhere to park would be handy.’

‘Go and see them. I’m sure they’ll have something.’

He nodded. ‘I will. Thank you. I was thinking I’d check into a hotel and maybe look at some places tomorrow.’

Something flickered in her eyes and then was gone, as if she’d changed her mind. ‘Good idea,’ she said, but nothing more, and he wondered what she’d been going to say. Whatever, she’d thought better of it, and he realised he had some serious work to do to rebuild their friendship.

Baby steps, he thought, and then felt a stab of pain.

‘Right. Well, I’ll see you on Monday.’

The eyes flickered again, and he could see the moment she changed her mind. ‘Give me a call, tell me how you get on.’

‘I don’t have your number, remember.’ And nobody changed their number unless they wanted to hide, so from whom? Rick? Him? Or from the others, the well-meaning friends who hadn’t quite known what to say to her? He could understand that. He’d blocked quite a few numbers.

He pulled out his phone and found her entry. ‘OK, give it to me?’ Then he rang her, and heard her phone buzz in her pocket.

‘OK. I’ll let you know how I get on with—Baldwins?’

‘Yup. Good luck.’

Was it those words, or was it just that the fates had finished playing Russian roulette with him?

Whatever, the agent showed him a whole bunch of stuff, none of which appealed, and then said, very carefully, ‘There is something else. It was for sale but it didn’t shift, so the owner got tenants in and they’ve done a runner and left it in a state, but he’s disabled and can’t afford to pay someone to sort it out, so if you didn’t mind rolling up your sleeves I’m sure I could negotiate a discount. It’s a great place, or it could be. It’s a three-bed bungalow on Ferry Lane, overlooking the marshes and the harbour, and you can see the boats on the river in the distance.’

The river? He could feel his pulse pick up. ‘Does it have a drive?’

‘Oh, yes, and a double garage and a big garden. They had a dog so the house smells a bit, but with a good clean and a tidy-up…’

‘Can I see it?’ he asked, impatient now, because it sounded perfect, doggy or not, and he’d grown up with dogs.

The agent glanced at his watch. ‘I can’t take you today, I’m on my own here, and I’m out of the office until eleven tomorrow, but I can give you the key. I take it you’re trustworthy?’

Ryan laughed. ‘I think so. After all, what can I do to it that the tenants haven’t? Apart from clean it?’

‘Good point. Here. And take my card and give me a call.’

‘I will. Thanks.’

He hefted the key in his hand, slid it into his pocket and headed back to the car, cruising slowly along the clifftop before turning onto Ferry Lane and checking out the numbers. And there it was, a tired-looking bungalow set back at the top of a long concrete drive with weeds growing in the cracks.

Uninspiring, to say the least, and it didn’t get better as he went up the drive, but as he got out of the car he caught sight of the view and felt peace steal over him.

He slid the key into the lock, went through the front door and was confronted by multi-coloured chaos.

The agent was right, it did smell of dog, the kitchen and bathroom were filthy, and the garden was a jungle, but every time he looked out of a window and saw the river in the distance his heart beat a little faster.

It might be awful now, but with a good scrub, the carpets cleaned and the grass cut, it would be transformed. Oh, and about a vat and a half of white paint to cover the lurid walls and calm it all down. All he had to do was roll up his sleeves and get stuck in.

He pulled out his phone and rang the agent.

‘I’ll take it,’ he said, and the man laughed.

‘I thought you might. Your eyes lit up when I mentioned the river.’

‘Yup.’ He laughed. ‘So, where do we go from here? It’s just that I am in quite a hurry, I start work on Monday. Is there any danger we can sort it by then?’

‘Yes, we can do it today. We’re open until seven tonight. If you come in at six, that’ll give me time to get it all sorted.’

So he rang Beth, although he hadn’t meant to, and told her about it.

‘Where is it?’

‘Just up Ferry Lane on the left. It’s number eleven.’

‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes—why?’

‘Can I come? I’m only round the corner and I have to see this.’

He laughed. ‘Sure. You’ll be shocked, it’s pretty dire, but I’ll get my body weight in cleaning materials and paint and it’ll be fine.’

‘It can’t be that bad.’

He just laughed again, and went outside to wait for her.

‘Oh, my word…’

‘Yeah. Great, isn’t it? You’ve got to love the shocking pink. But look.’

He wrapped her shoulders in his warm, firm hands and turned her gently towards the window, and she felt her breath catch. ‘Oh—you can see the river! It’s where we walked that day—’

The day he’d lifted her off the stile and into his arms and kissed her, and she’d fallen a little bit in love with him. The day it had all begun…

‘I know,’ he murmured, his voice a little gruff. ‘It’s beautiful down there, and the thought of having it on my doorstep, being able to look at it all the time, is just amazing.’ He dropped his hands and stepped away from her, but she could still feel the echo of his fingers, the warmth that had radiated off his body.

‘Come and see the rest. He said it’s got three bedrooms but I only got as far as the first one and gave up.’

She could see why. The place was dirty and untidy, as if the tenants had picked up their things and walked away without a backward glance, and there was a pervading odour of dog. There was a lot to do before it was a home.

They walked through it, examining all the rooms, finding the third bedroom at the opposite end to the other two, tucked away beyond the kitchen with a patio door to the garden. It even had an en suite shower room.

‘So will you make this your bedroom?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ll use it as a study because of the door to the garden. Do you know what, the house is actually in pretty good condition under all the dirt. I don’t think it’ll take a lot to turn it around.’

She eyed the grubby carpets, the faded curtains, the filthy bathroom. ‘If you say so.’

‘It’s only dirt. I’ll get on it in the morning. I’ve got to go down to the office now to sign something, then I need to eat and find a bed for the night. Any suggestions?’

Why? Why did she say it? She had no idea, but without her consent her mouth opened.

‘I’ve got a spare room, and a casserole in the slow cooker that’s enough for three meals so that should do us, so we can eat after you’ve done the paperwork and then come back here and make a start if you like? I’m on early tomorrow but I can help you now, and again after my shift. Bear in mind it’s Friday tomorrow, so you’ve only got three days before you start work and I guess you’ve got other stuff to do first. Like find some furniture, for starters.’

He laughed. ‘Furniture would be handy.’ His smile faded as he searched her eyes, his own unreadable. ‘Beth, are you sure? That’s a lot to ask.’

Sure? She wasn’t in the slightest bit sure, but it seemed the sensible thing to do, the most practical, and she was nothing if not practical.

‘I’m sure,’ she lied. ‘And anyway, you didn’t ask, I offered.’

She just hoped it wasn’t a huge mistake.

It was just as well she’d agreed to help, because the house was worse than he’d thought.

After they’d eaten he changed into jeans, rolled up his sleeves and they went straight back to tackle the mess, armed with the contents of her cleaning cupboard. She hit the kitchen while he tore up the bedroom carpets, and by the time he’d done that it looked a whole lot better. Then he studied the sitting room carpet.

Was it salvageable? Doubtful, but with a clean…

He turned back the corner to see what was underneath, and blinked. Seriously? An original wood block floor? He pulled back more, then more, and started to laugh because it was so unexpected and wonderful.

‘Hey, come and see this,’ he called, and Beth went into the sitting room, clad in shocking pink rubber gloves that matched the awful walls, a streak of dirt on her cheek, and his heart crashed against his ribs.

How could she look so sexy?

‘Wow! That’s amazing. It’s gorgeous!’

It wasn’t alone. He dragged his eyes off her, looking way more appealing than she had any right to look with dirt on her face and her hair all sweaty, and studied the floor. ‘Well, I don’t know about gorgeous, but it knocks spots off the carpet and it’ll save me money. I wonder if the hall’s the same?’

It was, so was the dining room, and he was stunned.

‘It’s incredible. I love it. I think you’re right, a bit of polish and it will be gorgeous. Right, let’s go. It’s late, you’re working tomorrow and I could kill for a cup of tea.’

‘Me, too. It might wash the dust out of my throat.’

He chuckled, and her eyes softened with her smile. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her, burying his face in her hair and breathing in dust and bleach and something else, something familiar that made his heart ache.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much for all you’ve done. You’ve been amazing and I wouldn’t have got nearly as far without you.’

She eased away, leaving him feeling a little awkward and a bit bereft. ‘Yeah, you would, because you wouldn’t have stopped. Right, time to go.’

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea would be lovely, thank you. Want a hand?’

‘No, you’re fine. Go and relax, I won’t be long.’

Relax? He was too wired for that, and stiffening up nicely after all the heaving and bending. He was going to hurt in the morning. Ah, well. At least they’d made a start.

He flexed his shoulders and strolled over to the shelves in the corner of her sitting room beside the fireplace, where a silver trinket box had caught his eye. It was a heart, he discovered, smooth and rounded, incredibly simple but somehow beautiful, and crying out to be touched.

He picked it up, and it settled neatly into the palm of his hand as if it belonged there, the metal cool against his palm, the surface so smooth it felt like silk. There was something written on it, he realised, and he traced it with his fingertip, his heart starting to pound as he read the tiny inscription.

A date. A date he recognised, a date he could never forget because it was carved on his heart, too.

He heard her footsteps behind him.

‘Tea,’ she said, her voice sounding far away, the clink of the mugs as she put them down oddly loud in the silence. He turned slowly towards her, the heart still nestled in the palm of his hand.

‘What’s this?’ he asked gruffly, knowing the answer, and her smile nearly broke his heart.

‘Her ashes.’

Her face blurred, and he bent his head and lifted the tiny urn to his lips, his eyes squeezed tightly shut to trap the tears inside.

‘You kept them,’ he said, when he could speak.

‘Of course. I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t there by the time I picked them up, and I didn’t want to stay where we were because of all the reminders and I knew if they were there I’d feel tied, so I had to keep her with me until we could decide together what to do.’

He looked up, blinking so he could see her face, and her smile cracked.

‘Oh, Beth…’

He reached out his free arm and pulled her against his side, and she laid her hand over the delicate little urn in his hand, her fingers curling round over his as she rested her head on his shoulder.

‘Grace didn’t suffer, Ry. At least we know that.’

He nodded, and she lifted the little heart gently out of his hand, kissed it and put it back on the shelf, next to a pretty cardboard box. She touched it fleetingly.

‘That’s her memory box,’ she said softly. ‘The midwives gave it to me in the hospital. Would you like to see it?’

He shook his head, mentally backing away from it, unable to face it. ‘No. Not tonight. I’m too tired, Beth. I think I might head up to bed. I’ve got another long day tomorrow and you’re working.’

Her smile was understanding, as if she’d seen straight through him.

‘When you’re ready,’ she said gently, but he’d spent two long years running away from it and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for what he knew must be in that memory box.

Time to stop running? Maybe, but not now. Not tonight.

Not yet…

CHAPTER TWO

‘ARE YOU OK?’

Ryan propped himself against the doorframe of his newly acquired home and gave her a slightly crooked smile.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure? Because you didn’t look it last night.’

He hadn’t felt it, and between the memories that the little heart had dragged up out of their hiding place and the knowledge that Beth was just on the other side of the wall, he’d hardly slept at all. And then seeing this place in daylight, realising the enormity of the task, had made him wonder what on earth he was doing.

So, yeah, one way and another, he was very far from fine.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shrugged away from the doorframe, stepping back into the hall to let her in. ‘I was tired. And, yes, OK, I was—uh—I was a bit emotional. It was just holding it, you know? Knowing Grace was in there.’

She nodded. ‘I know.’ Her smile faltered, and she sucked in a breath and looked around, then blinked. ‘Oh—wow! What happened to the pink?’

He laughed. ‘Three coats of white paint happened to it.’

‘Three? Already? What are you, Superman?’

‘It’s been a nice breezy day and I’ve had all the windows open so the paint’s dried quickly and it really doesn’t take that long. I’ve done the sitting room, as well. Have a look.’

He pushed the door open and followed her in, and she gasped.

‘Oh! It looks so much bigger. And brighter.’

He chuckled. ‘That wouldn’t be hard. Cup of tea?’

‘That would be lovely. I haven’t had a lot to drink today. I’ve brought scruffy clothes.’

He frowned at her. ‘You’ve been working all day.’

‘So? It was the sensible Friday shift. The late shift won’t have it so easy.’

He headed for the kitchen. ‘Tea or coffee? I bought a kettle and some mugs and stuff.’

‘Tea, please.’

He felt her watching him dunking tea bags, pouring milk, his hands covered in paint. There was some in his hair, too, he’d noticed. He was going to have to do some serious scrubbing to get it off by Monday.

‘So how was work?’ he asked, handing her the mug. ‘Anything interesting?’

‘Not really, a few sporting and gardening injuries, the odd fall, but nothing nasty, just busy.’

He thought of his average day with MFA and laughed. ‘I’ll take that.’

‘I guessed you would. Bit of a change from what you’ve been doing.’

‘Yeah.’ He put away the memories and conjured up a smile. ‘Here—let’s go in the garden. I found a bench. It’s a bit wobbly, but it should be OK if we sit down carefully.’

He scooped up a packet of biscuits and she followed him through the dining room and the tired conservatory into the garden.

She eyed the bench dubiously as it creaked under his weight. ‘I think I’ll sit here,’ she said, taking a biscuit and perching on the edge of the steps that led up to the garden from the patio. Well, patio was a bit of a stretch. Some uneven crazy paving, but it was somewhere to put a table and chairs.

‘It’s a pretty garden.’

He snorted, but she stuck to her guns. ‘It is! Look at the perennials in the border.’

‘I see them. I also see the weeds, and the foot-high grass, and the fence that’s making a bid for freedom. I don’t think this place has had any maintenance in living memory but hey, it’ll give me something to do in my time off. That’ll be a bit of a luxury.’

‘Time off?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, you don’t get a lot of that in the field. You only do three months at a time, but it’s pretty full on.’ He fell silent, his thoughts obviously miles away, and she wondered what he was seeing. Probably just as well not to know.

‘Here, have another biscuit before I eat them all.’

He got up to hand her the packet, and as he pushed himself up the bench creaked again and slid over sideways into a heap.

She laughed. She tried not to, but his face was a picture and she dissolved into giggles.

‘How is that funny?’ he asked, but his lips were twitching and seconds later he was sitting beside her on the steps, clutching his stomach and laughing just as helplessly as her.

‘Maybe you need to invest in some new garden furniture,’ she suggested when she could speak again, and he nodded.

‘Maybe. Or I can sit here and study the windows. They really need replacing.’

‘Buy a new bench. It’s cheaper than the windows and you don’t own the house.’

‘No, I don’t. Not yet.’

Yet? She turned and met his eyes.

‘Yet?’

‘It’s possibly for sale.’

‘But—you’re a locum! Why would you buy it?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t, unless I was going to be living here long term.’ He paused, looked away, then looked back, his eyes searching hers. ‘I think I want to apply for the permanent job.’

She wasn’t expecting that, not so soon, not before he’d even started work there, but realistically what was there to know? He’d met James and a few of the others, he knew her, he knew he loved the town—what more was there?

Nothing—except her, and her feelings, and if he’d asked her what they were she’d be hard pushed to tell him, because after seeing him with Grace’s heart last night they were even more confused. She looked away.

‘I’d give it a few days before you decide. You might hate it.’

‘Unlikely, and I can always withdraw my application if I want to.’

‘Withdraw it?’ She laughed. ‘You seriously think James wouldn’t talk you out of doing that?’

‘I know he wouldn’t. Not if I don’t want to be talked out of it. If you don’t want me here, Beth, I’ll go, no matter how much James wants me to stay.’

She searched his eyes, read the sincerity in them, the concern for her welfare. And then she thought of the little silver heart that had fitted so perfectly in the palm of his hand…

She wanted him to stay.

It was the last thing she’d expected to feel and she had no idea where it had come from, but it hit like a lightning bolt, and she sucked in a breath and got to her feet.

‘Let’s just see,’ she said, tipping out the dregs of her tea onto the weedy grass behind her. ‘So—what’s next?’

‘My bedroom. I’m picking up my clothes and other stuff from my mother’s on Sunday, and I can borrow her airbed.’

‘Airbed?’ She turned and stared at him. ‘Ry, there’s no hurry. You can stay with me as long as you want.’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve put you out quite enough, Beth. I’ll stay tonight and tomorrow, but then I’ll be here.’

‘But—you’ve got no furniture. It’s a bit basic,’ she murmured, but he just laughed.

‘Basic? Having a roof is a luxury in some of the places I’ve been. Trust me, this is a palace. I’ve got a new bed and sofa coming on Monday evening. I’ll be fine.’

‘If you say so.’ She shrugged, not quite believing him, and headed back into the house, wondering if she should feel hurt that he didn’t want to stay, and telling herself not to be stupid. He’d always been independent and she wasn’t going to change him. ‘How about I get stuck in and clean the rest while you do the bedroom, then?’

They stopped at eight because the light was failing and they were both tired, but his bedroom was painted and the kitchen, cloakroom and both bathrooms were gleaming and she’d started on the windows.

He waited till she’d finished the pane she was working on, then took the cloth out of her hand. ‘Come on, it’s late, and you’re working tomorrow. Why don’t we pick up a takeaway?’

She gave him a tired smile. ‘That sounds great. How does the bedroom look?’

‘Bigger, and it’s got that amazing view.’

‘Just as well, as you don’t have any curtains. Right, come on, we’ve got another long day tomorrow.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I feel like I’m taking advantage of your good nature.’

‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t happy.’

He wasn’t sure about that. Beth had a heart of gold, a heart that he’d broken, even if only indirectly, by not making sure she couldn’t get pregnant.

‘You’re a star,’ he said, echoing James, and she shook her head.

‘No, Ryan, I’m a friend,’ she said simply, and her words brought a lump to his throat because while it was true, in a strange way she meant so much more than that to him and he didn’t have the words to say so.

He didn’t even think there was a word for what they were to each other, he just knew she was an indelible part of his life and always would be.

By the end of Saturday the place was transformed.

Once the paint was dry he’d pulled up the carpet in the sitting room, dining room and hall, and together they mopped and polished the wood block floor and stood back to admire it.

‘Wow. You were right, Beth, it is gorgeous. Stunning.’

‘I thought it would be. How about pots and pans and things, if you insist on moving in so quickly? And bedroom curtains, come to that.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Mum’s got some I can borrow. I don’t need much for the kitchen, and there’s a box in the pantry. There might be something in there worth salvaging.’

They went and had a look, and the answer was a maybe.

‘I’ll take the box home, sort through it and put anything worth having through my dishwasher and bring it back tomorrow, if you give me a key,’ she said, so he loaded it into her car, locked the house and went back to hers for the third and final night.

Not that he’d have a real bed until Monday, but as he’d said, a roof was more than he’d had at times, and he’d be fine—and maybe better than fine. He might even sleep if she wasn’t lying there in the next room, just on the other side of the wall…

‘Morning!’

Beth turned and met his eyes with a smile, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice.

‘Morning. All ready for your first shift?’

‘Yes, absolutely. It’ll make a refreshing change from painting. That’s just mind-numbing.’