Chapter Five
Any Excuse
One Month Later – A Friday in May
WHEN KNOCKING ON DAPHNE’S front door for the third time didn’t seem to get me any response, I bent over and pushed open the flap on her letterbox.
‘Hello? Daphne, are you ok?’ I hollered through the black rectangular slot. I frowned as I heard a thud, then a load of footsteps and mumbling. ‘Daphne? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to use my emergency key and come and check you’re ok.’
‘I’m fine dear, just give me a moment,’ she called, sounding flustered. Just before the letterbox snapped shut, nearly taking off the tips of my fingers, I was sure I heard some girlish giggling and a masculine chuckle.
I did my best to keep a straight face when she opened the door and let Mr. Bentley out before letting me in, but when she closed the door, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading.
‘I see you and Mr. Bentley have moved out of the friend zone into the friends with benefits one.’
‘And why exactly do you have a surprised look on your face, Charlie?’ she retorted as her hands smoothed her ruffled hair back into place. ‘Just because my body isn’t as able doesn’t mean the mind isn’t willing. You youngsters think that when someone hits fifty, their desire magically vanishes.’
‘Good to know that I might still get to act on it when I’m eighty, as my mind’s willing and my body’s able, but no one seems to want to take advantage of it.’
‘And that’s exactly why you’re taking me to my appointment, dear,’ she reminded me.
‘One we’ll be late for if you don’t bust some more moves and get in my car.’
She grabbed her handbag and gave me a nod to say that she was ready. I helped her down the steps and locked up for her, then we walked along the side path in front of her cottage and headed out of the side gate onto the drive.
‘What on earth is that?’ she asked, giving my car a disapproving once over.
‘A Mazda. Why, what’s wrong?’
‘For a start, I’m not sure why it has wheels, as it appears to be sitting on the floor.’
‘It’s a sports car, Daphne, they’re all like that, with low profile tyres.’
‘And how exactly am I supposed to get in and out of it at my age?’
‘Getting in and out didn’t seem to stop Mr. Bentley earlier,’ I chuckled as I walked around to open the passenger door. ‘Come on, stop with the disapproving looks and I’ll help you.’
‘Honestly,’ she huffed as she skirted around it, the look not subsiding from her face. ‘If I’d known I was going to be dragged along the road into town, I might not have suggested you take me.’
‘Well, if I drove a Range Rover, you’d complain it was too high. I know I have the hots for the guy, but I’m not so desperate that I’m going to change my car to one more old-age-pensioner friendly on the off chance I might see him more often. Come on, take my hands and I’ll help lower you in.’
With much muttering and banged heads and knees, I finally managed to get Daphne inside and made a mental note that it would be a lot easier to retract the roof to get her in and out in the future. Five minutes later, we were purring through Dilbury on our way to Shrewsbury, Daphne clutching her handbag as if she was scared that by putting it on the floor, she wouldn’t be able to bend down low enough to retrieve it again. Once we left the speed restriction through the village, I put my foot down a little and Daphne screamed as she let go of the bag and clutched her seat, making me swerve from the shock of her shrill cry.
‘Don’t do that while I’m driving,’ I warned her.
‘Well, slow down.’
‘I’m doing fifty miles an hour in a sixty, how slow do you want me to go?’
‘Fifty, are you sure?’ she asked, craning her neck to check my speedometer.
‘Yes, I’m sure. It feels faster as you’re closer to the road.’
‘Remind me to wear incontinence knickers next time, as it feels like you’re doing one hundred miles an hour,’ she muttered.
‘Are you telling me you just wet yourself in my car?’ I groaned.
‘No, but judging by the way you’re driving, I’m surprised I haven’t.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my driving.’
‘On that we’ll agree to disagree.’
‘I could just pull over and make you walk the rest of the way,’ I warned her. ‘So, which department is your appointment in?’
‘Hmmm?’ she asked.
‘Which department? It’s a big hospital. If I know where you’re going, I can try and park as close as possible to the right entrance.’
‘Oh, right. Ermmm, orthopaedics,’ she replied after a brief hesitation.
‘What are you seeing them for?’
‘Rheumatoid arthritis.’
‘Really? I thought that the rheumatology department dealt with that.’
‘Oh, silly me, of course they do. This is for my osteoarthritis, I might need a new hip soon.’
‘Hmmm, I wonder why that’s suddenly developed wear and tear.’ I flashed her a knowing look and winked, and she giggled and blushed. ‘Well, we should just make it for your two-thirty appointment.’
‘Lovely.’
By the time we parked and I retracted the roof, then enlisted the help of the parking attendant to extract Daphne from my car, it was nearly half past two. While she was still amazingly mobile for her age, she didn’t have the speed needed to get into the main reception by two-thirty, let alone on to wherever the orthopaedic department was located.
‘Be a dear, Charlie, and go and get me a wheelchair,’ she suggested when we discovered it was a long walk up one of the corridors. ‘We’ll get there faster if you push me and run.’
‘When did running become part of the deal?’ I gave her an amazed look as I shook my head and sat her down on one of the chairs in the entrance. So much for a quick and easy scouting mission, this was turning into hard work. I quickly returned with one and flipped on the brake as I settled her into it and put her feet on the resting plates. Moments later, I was weaving in and out of the pedestrian traffic like a professional wheelchair pusher.
‘Go for it, Charlie,’ Daphne ordered, hooking her arm through the handles of her handbag and gripping the arms of the wheelchair as we turned the corner and found the corridor ahead was clear. I took a deep breath and pushed as I started to trot, then jog, then went into my version of a full out run. I laughed as Daphne let out a “Yippee” and a whoop, her fine hair lifting with the wind tunnel we were creating as we shot up the corridor, the widest smile I’d ever seen on her face.
‘Brace yourself,’ I warned, as I spotted the overhead sign that indicated the department we were after was fast approaching on the right. It turned out that stopping a wheelchair that was intent on forward momentum was a lot harder than getting it going. Despite clawing back some time with my corridor dash, when we made it to the reception desk of the department, we were ten minutes late.
‘Yes?’ asked the receptionist, barely glancing up at us.
‘Daphne Jones. Sorry I’m late, but I have a two-thirty to see Dr. Fitton, please.’
‘What?’ I gasped. She hadn’t mentioned she was seeing him.
‘Who are you seeing?’ the receptionist asked, frowning as she lifted her head from the mountains of paperwork in front of her.
‘Dr. Fitton.’
‘There’s no Dr. Fitton on duty today.’
‘Are you sure? It definitely said his name on my letter.’
‘Ruth,’ the receptionist hollered over her shoulder towards the small office behind her. ‘Who’s Dr. Fitton? Someone says she has an appointment with him.’
‘No idea, sorry. He doesn’t work in this department,’ a voice called back.
‘Oh, silly me, it wasn’t an orthopaedic appointment today, that’s next week. It was optometry. Come on, Charlie, giddy up, we need to motor.’
‘Motor? I’m breathless from the last wheelchair dash,’ I huffed as I turned her around. ‘Are you sure it’s an optometry appointment? It seems a bit odd for him to do that and to cover A&E as well.’
‘I don’t make the rules. Come on, put your foot down.’
‘Make your mind up, will you? One minute it’s “Charlie, slow down” when I have the ability to speed, and now you’re all with the “Charlie, hurry up” when I currently only have three options. Stop, go, or keel over and die.’ I rolled my eyes as she chuckled, then started running back up the corridor towards the main reception to try and locate optometry. By the time we made it to that reception desk, we were nearly half an hour late. I was a hot mess and on the verge of needing admission to the respiratory care department.
‘Daphne Jones to see Dr. Fitton, please.’
‘I’m sorry, doctor who?’ the receptionist asked, making me giggle between pants for air.
‘Dr. Fitton. Fit. Ton. Doctor Guy Fitton,’ Daphne said slowly.
‘Hmmm, he’s not on this service. What were you seeing him about?’ she asked. I was beginning to wonder, too.
‘Well, obviously I thought it was my eyes, or I wouldn’t have come to see you, dear. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m very old so I’m not with it most of the time,’ Daphne sighed, making my eyebrows raise at the comment. She was as sharp as a button. ‘Can you look him up and tell me what department he works in, please? Even better if I could have his phone number, I could save you the trouble and call him directly to let him know I’m running late.’
‘We don’t give out phone numbers for confidentiality reasons, but I’ll find out where he works,’ she said as she turned around and rolled her chair across the floor to tap into her computer.
‘Ok, what’s going on?’ I asked.
‘I must have got confused, maybe I’m seeing him about one of my other ailments.’
‘Hmmm,’ I said as I gave her a suspicious look. She was up to something. She broke my gaze and looked down as she fiddled with her handbag straps, while the receptionist spoke on the phone and I managed to regulate my breathing.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ The receptionist gave Daphne a kind smile, then shot me a sympathetic look. ‘I think your grandmother has got a little confused. Dr. Fitton is one of our specialists in accident and emergency, he doesn’t see out-patients. I can’t find any other doctor with a similar name. Can I take her full name and date of birth? I can search and see who she was supposed to be seeing.’
‘Oh my, oh,’ Daphne cried as she threw herself back, slumping over the side of the chair as she dramatically clutched her chest. ‘I think … I’m having … a heart attack. Quick, Charlie, thank goodness they have an emergency department on site.’
‘Sorry,’ I grimaced at the stunned receptionist as I realised Daphne’s game. I spun her chair around, everyone in the waiting room throwing concerned looks our way as she moaned loudly. I pushed her out of the department as quickly as I could, pulling up as soon as we turned a corner and were out of sight. She immediately shuffled herself upright and glanced up at me, looking like the cat that got the cream.
‘Daphne Jones, I’m on to you. Do you even have a hospital appointment today?’ I demanded. She pulled a face and shrugged. ‘You little minx!’
‘Well, now we know for sure where he works.’
‘All this to confirm what was pretty obvious to assume, seeing how he treated me in A&E and I saw him there the next time I was admitted?’
‘Of course not,’ she scoffed. ‘I don’t like being cooped up in my house all day on my own. I wanted to get out, somewhere where I don’t see memories of David everywhere I look.’
‘You only have to ask if you want to go out for the day, any of us would be happy to take you somewhere,’ I said, softening my tone.
‘I know that, but just because I’m eighty doesn’t mean I want to visit boring garden centres. Inside I’m still a young girl with a list of dreams I haven’t fulfilled yet.’
‘Let me guess, a wheelchair race was on your bucket list?’ I smiled.
‘Well, that was the closest I’ll ever get to one. And I always regretted not going into acting when I was younger. What would you have rated my heart attack on a scale of one to ten?’
‘You’re incorrigible,’ I gasped. ‘What if you have a heart attack for real and I think you’re messing with me?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my heart. Strong as an ox, my doctor tells me. Come on then, I think I’ve had my fill of being mischievous for the next few weeks. Now I’ve been rumbled, and you know for sure where he works, we can go and get a coffee in the League of Friends café. He has a stressful job, I bet he gets coffee all the time, so we might see him in there.’
‘Ok, we’ll go and get coffee, but I bet there is a special doctors-only lounge with fancy percolated stuff. We won’t see him in the café.’
‘Maybe, maybe not, but on the plus side, they do the best carrot cake in all of Shropshire.’
‘Come on then,’ I sighed, looking around to get my bearings before moving off. ‘So, tell me about this bucket list? Is there anything else we can tick off today?’
‘Not unless you fancy a Zimmer frame race?’ she winked, making me laugh and shake my head.
I parked her up at a vacant table and went to place an order for two coffees and two slices of carrot cake. The elderly dears behind the counter set about preparing the order on a tray. I looked out at the main corridor, amazed at the amount of people moving through the hospital. I wondered what all of their stories were. I’d spent a fair bit of time in hospitals over the years, but it was easy to forget just how many people were ill at any given moment. In fact, it was really depressing. My heart stalled and skipped a beat as I saw the object of my infatuation striding up the corridor, his head down as his thumbs moved speedily over his phone. He was going to walk right past me.
‘McFitty,’ I breathed, willing him to hear my dulcet tone and look up and meet my gaze.
‘What’s that, dearie?’ asked one of the ladies behind the counter. ‘You want a McVitie? I don’t think we have any. Jean, Jean? Do we have any McVitie’s biscuits?’
‘No, no McVitie’s. We have Hobnobs.’
‘That’s ok, the carrot cake will be fine,’ I said, not tearing my eyes off him as he got closer. I’d heard of white coat syndrome, and looking at him right then, I could understand how your blood pressure could be affected, as mine was rocketing to see how gorgeous he looked in his scrubs. There was something about an intelligent man in control, and in a uniform of sorts, that I found so sexy. I needed to do something or I’d miss my opportunity. ‘Can you just give me a moment?’ I said to no one in particular at the counter, and took a deep breath as I stepped out into the corridor, putting myself directly into his path. ‘We really need to stop meeting like this,’ I quipped.
He looked up with a frown, seconds away from colliding with me.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,’ he said. Before I had a chance to say anything in response, he side-stepped me and carried on walking. My jaw dropped as I spun to watch him heading up the corridor away from me. Seriously? He still didn’t recognise me?
‘Dearie, do you still want this order?’
‘Yes please, and can you stick an extra slice of carrot cake on it, too?’ I called as I kept my eyes on him until he disappeared out of sight. I needed the calories to soothe away yet another rejection.
‘Was that him, dear?’ Daphne asked as I carried the tray over.
‘Yes,’ I sighed.
‘Well, I can see why you’re smitten. He’s quite the dish, but he has the air of a cad about him.’
‘A cad?’ I asked, still stunned. I knew I wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the world, but I was confident enough to know that I had a certain amount of sex appeal, and I’d never had trouble attracting a man I was interested in before. But Dr. Fitton seemed completely immune to my charms.
‘A cad, a rogue. He looks like a man who knows he’s good-looking and uses it to his advantage. I’d be wary of a man like that.’
‘You don’t know him,’ I reminded her as I ripped open a sachet of sugar and tipped it into my coffee.
‘And neither do you. But I’ve always been good at reading people. Just be cautious with that one, Charlie. He’s surrounded by pretty nurses all day.’
‘Most men are surrounded by pretty girls while they’re at work, it doesn’t mean that they all stray.’
‘Very true. I’m sure there’s lots of lovely doctors that work here that are faithful, but I’m telling you that my gut says he’s not to be trusted,’ she stated firmly, as I forked a large chunk of the calorie-laden goodness into my mouth and groaned with pleasure.
‘How can you say that after one look at someone?’ I mumbled, then winced as Daphne gave me a gentle cuff around the back of the head.
‘It’s a gift. Now don’t speak with your mouth full. How many times must I tell you and Abbie that it’s not ladylike. And eating your weight in carrot cake isn’t going to make you feel better about him ignoring you.’
‘Maybe not, but I’m going to give it a damn good try,’ I told her, wondering if I could buy the rest of the slices to take away.
‘Well, don’t be too long about it, I’m tired after all that excitement. I need a nap and then I have things I need to do at home.’
‘Hmmm … Mr. Bentley? Owww,’ I moaned as she cuffed me again, then smiled as she tucked into her cake with a smile on her own face. She really was unique. I’d never met anyone else like her, and I wasn’t sure I ever would.
‘She’s so naughty,’ Georgie laughed as I finished filling them in on my day with Daphne over our monthly Friday night meal at The Fox.
‘We need to get this bucket list from her and make sure she ticks off all of the items. I had no idea she even had one,’ Abbie said as she blew out a deep breath. She pulled a face and groaned as she palmed her stomach. ‘I’ve eaten too much.’
‘Me too,’ I agreed as I pushed away the plate that had contained my sticky toffee pudding, before I was tempted to pick it up and lick off all the sauce stubbornly clinging to it. ‘Thank God I’ve got a stretch body on, it has loads of give.’
‘I’m seriously considering pregnancy trousers for when we come out to eat. I just can’t resist a pudding, even though I know I’ll be full by the time I’ve finished my main meal,’ Abbie said.
‘Anyway, I’m not quite sure how tonight turned into an “all about Charlie” night. We were supposed to be talking about what you’ve both decided about the men who actually want to be in your lives. Honestly, I’d give anything to be in the position where McFitty was begging me to see him.’
‘Weston’s hardly begging,’ Georgie scoffed. ‘I have more enthusiasm in my tone when I say, “Yes, of course I’d love to come in for my annual smear test.”’
‘But he rang you, Georgie. I don’t even get an acknowledgement that my non-guy remembers me. You’re a lot further on in your potential relationship than I am. But I think it’s Abbie that we need to focus on tonight. He was so devastated when he found you’d run away.’
‘Don’t,’ she sighed. ‘I hate that we’ve hurt each other so badly, but I have a plan to win him back and convince him that I still love him. All I need to do now is book my flight and hope that he agrees to see me.’
‘He’ll agree,’ I said, using my knuckles to gently rub my eyes.
‘Seriously, a bit of wheelchair pushing has made you so tired you’re falling asleep on us?’ Georgie teased.
‘Sorry. I’ve been writing so much, trying to make up for the time I lost when I couldn’t. My eyes are obviously irritated.’
‘You need to get some decent nights’ sleep as well. I woke up when I thought I heard a noise in the back garden last night, it must have been at least three a.m., and when I looked out, I could see the glow from your office window lighting up your back patio.’
‘You can’t sleep while the voices are talking,’ I protested. I shifted in my seat, wondering just how much weight I’d put on as these jeans were seriously uncomfortable in the crotch area tonight.
‘Don’t say things like that around McFitty,’ Abbie laughed. ‘If he thinks you’re listening to voices, he’ll have you admitted to the psychiatric ward. So, when’s the next book out?’
‘There’s one at the end of this month, but I don’t know about the next one. It’s written and edited already, but …’ I hesitated, wondering if I would jinx things by telling them.
‘But?’ Abbie prodded.
‘I finally found an agent to represent me,’ I smiled.
‘Oh my God, that’s amazing,’ Georgie said, reaching over to squeeze my arm. ‘How will that affect your pending work?’
‘Well, that’s the thing. She’s submitted the book that was due to be out in August to one of the big publishers. We’re talking full worldwide marketing, possible film rights, flying me to book signings around the world, and giving me advances on works to come.’
‘Wow,’ Abbie exclaimed, looking suitably impressed. ‘That’s incredible, well done. We need to order some bubbly.’
‘Hey, steady on,’ I laughed. ‘A publisher still has to say yes, and they might not.’
‘Well, they should, Charlie. You deserve recognition. We love your books and we’re not saying that just because we’re your friends,’ Georgie added, Abbie nodding her agreement.
‘Ok, I’ll make a deal with you. If I get a contract out of it, I’ll buy the bubbly and a celebratory slap-up meal for us, Daphne too. How does that sound?’
‘As long as you’re buying and not cooking it, I’m in,’ Abbie said, giggling as I swatted her arm and laughed. I stood up and tugged my jeans at the knees to relieve some of the uncomfortable pressure, then sat back down again.
‘You’ve had ants in your pants all night. Are you ok?’ Georgie asked.
‘I need you to date Weston. I’m piling on the pounds and need someone to whip me into shape. I moved to Dilbury to get fit, not get fat.’
‘You’re not fat,’ Abbie scoffed with a roll of her eyes. ‘You have amazing curves. You’re like a little Latin package of hotness.’
‘Then please go and tell Dr. Fitton that, as I feel invisible around him,’ I moaned, rubbing my tired eyes again.
‘If he doesn’t see you, Charlie, then he’s not worth the time of day,’ Georgie said. ‘Come on. If there are no voices talking, I think it will do you good to get home and have an early night.’
‘Yes, at your age, you need your sleep,’ Abbie teased.
‘You cheeky minx,’ I laughed. ‘I’m only two years older than you are.’
‘But I’ll always be two years younger,’ she replied, sticking her tongue out at me, then screamed when I flicked her with my napkin.
So, McFitty might not be in my life, but I had three amazing friends in it. And I’d had another really fun day. Life wasn’t so bad.