Annie Claydon - 200 Harley Street - The Enigmatic Surgeon

‘Well … I’ll leave that to you. What I mean is that you should make yourselves at home.’ His mother was always telling him that this house was far too big for one. Granted this was not what she’d had in mind, but the principle was a good one. There was more than enough room for him to carry on with his life, undisturbed by two house guests.

‘Thank you. I really appreciate this, Edward. And it’ll only be for a few days, while I get everything sorted out.’

‘You can stay as long as you like.’

He knew that it would take longer than a few days to work this out, and he didn’t want her or Isaac going back home until it was. They’d both been through too much already.

After he’d taken them back to Charlotte’s house, to pack what they needed, Edward had left them to their own devices. They had their own routine, which clearly involved eating and sleeping at regular intervals, and he had his, which disregarded any such practical activities in favour of whatever he happened to be doing at the time.

When he parked outside his house on Sunday evening his mind was still racing from the concepts that had been explored in the afternoon seminar he’d attended, and then endlessly again afterwards over sandwiches. The house was dark, and as he slipped his key into the lock on the front door it occurred to him that Charlotte might have taken her son and left, leaving a note on the hall table for him to find when he got back.

‘Oh, no, you don’t …’ He muttered the words to himself, since she wasn’t around to hear them.

He slid the key into the lock and the door gave by six inches, then caught. The chain, which usually hung unused from the frame, barred his entry. At least he wasn’t going to have to get back into his car and drive over to Charlotte’s house, to make sure that she and Isaac were all right.

All the same, there was the small matter of being locked out of his own home. Ringing the bell would probably wake Isaac up, as would bellowing through the letterbox, so Edward pulled the door to, twisting the key to relock it.

He seldom took the path around the side of the house, and he jumped as a pair of iridescent orbs appeared from the bushes. ‘Locked out as well, eh?’ Archie swished his tail. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s a bit much.’

Discomfiture that his arrival home hadn’t provided the usual well-ordered release from the complications of the world began to swell into anger.

He didn’t need to find the key for the French windows; they were standing open. She was there, in the failing light, curled up in a chair on the stone-flagged patio.

‘Charlotte!’

She jumped, throwing off the woollen jacket that was wrapped around her shoulders and twisting around. When she saw him she smiled, and Edward felt the hard edges of his anger melt.

‘It’s you …’ She rubbed her eyes with her hand, as if she had been dozing.

It occurred to Edward to make the point that there wasn’t much to gain by locking the front door if she was going to fall asleep with the doors to the patio wide open. But that sounded rather too much like criticism, and he’d already seen her flinch enough times when she or Isaac did something that she thought he might disapprove of.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘I must have just dropped off …’ Her gaze swung from him to the house and then back again. ‘Ohhh. I locked you out …’

That didn’t seem so much of an issue as it had a moment ago. ‘Putting the chain on the front door’s a sensible precaution at night.’

‘And falling asleep with the patio doors open isn’t.’ She gave a little self-deprecatory smile.

He shrugged, as if he’d not thought about that. ‘Why don’t you give yourself a break? You’re safe here. No one can find you.’ No one apart from him. He liked that thought so much that he dumped his briefcase on the stone flags and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to her.

She nodded. ‘Thank you. Having a safe place to stay has meant a great deal to me and Isaac.’

‘So you’ve had a good day?’

‘Yes, thank you. We had lunch and then went to the park. They’ve got a great playground there, and a lovely cafeteria. We played football, as well.’

She made it sound like a real treat, and Edward found himself smiling, wondering whether football wouldn’t have been preferable to a dark, humid lecture theatre. She and Isaac were a small, self-sufficient unit, though. They probably wouldn’t have wanted him along.

‘Sounds nice. Have you thought about what you’re going to do yet? With regard to your situation?’ He tried to put it delicately.

‘I called Paula and she’s going to lend me her laptop tomorrow. I’ve drawn up a list of things I need to find out about, and then I can start in on sorting everything out.’

Edward had left his own laptop on the coffee table, specifically so she could use it if she wanted to go on the internet. He should have thought that she wouldn’t touch it, or allow Isaac to either, without asking. ‘No need for that. Mine’s right there.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’ There was a hint of awkwardness in her manner as she slid to the edge of her seat. ‘Would you like something to drink? There’s some hot chocolate …’

Her determination to pay her own way seemed to know no bounds. Everything he did for her—things that he gave without expecting anything in return—was entered on a balance sheet in her head to be repaid at a later date. Edward was debating whether he should tell her that she really didn’t need to wait on him like this, but she was on her feet already.

‘Hot chocolate would be great. Thank you.’

Since she so much wanted to do something for him, he supposed he should let her, and Charlotte’s bright smile as she disappeared into the house tentatively proved his theory.

She brought him a mug of creamy hot chocolate, along with a plate of home-made biscuits.

‘Thank you.’ He took a sip and nodded his approval. Archie materialised from his nightly tour of the garden and curled up under her chair. If she’d been feeding him as well as she seemed intent on feeding Edward he couldn’t fault the animal’s change of allegiance. ‘There’s something I want you to do for me.’

She brightened noticeably. ‘Yes, of course. What is it?’

Too late, Edward realised that he should have chosen his words more carefully. The impression that she was about to do him a favour was accurate enough, in the context of the amount of thinking time he’d already given to her plight, but Charlotte probably wouldn’t see it that way.

‘My father has his own practice at law, and I want you to consider making an appointment to go and see him. He can advise you and get his investigative team to find out exactly what’s going on. With my dad on your side, you can get things sorted out quicker and more efficiently.’

‘But I can’t afford to pay a lawyer, Edward.’

‘You won’t need to. If I ask him, he’ll do it for free.’

She hesitated. For a moment Edward thought that her pride was going to let her see sense and give in to expediency. Then she shook her head.

‘No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Please don’t mention it to him.’

He sighed. ‘What isn’t fair is that you’re spending time on researching and fighting your own battles when there are people who will happily help you out. It’s not just you that it makes an impact on—it’s your work at the clinic.’

That particular argument didn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Charlotte must have been worried sick over the last couple of weeks, but she’d never shown any evidence of it on the job.

She frowned at him. ‘I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of my work.’

‘I know you wouldn’t mean to, but none of us can be expected to give a hundred per cent when we’re under the kind of pressure that you’re facing at the moment.’ He was pressing hard, exploiting every chink in her armour.