After leaving Gordon's office, Jill went straight out on her house calls, eating her packed sandwiches when she paused in road works or at traffic lights. It wasn't ideal, but she couldn't spend the lunch in her office alone. It would only allow her to dwell more on the morning. It would only grant her more upset. Still, she managed to go over the events of the past twenty four hours even whilst concentrating on driving.
She had been on edge all day. It had been planned a few days in advance that he would come to hers for the evening, after putting the children to bed. He'd been to her flat before, even after their relationship had shifted from friends and colleagues to something considerably more. Yet somehow it felt different. She felt a flutter of excitement each time she saw him, even if it were for a brief second in reception. He had seemed to feel the same, judging by the grins he kept shooting her, and the discrete touches whenever they were out of sight of their colleagues.
She hadn't known the night would end the way it did; neither had planned it. Yet they had given in to the love they held for each other. She sighed heavily as she drew up outside Mrs Westerton's farmhouse. She engaged the handbrake but didn't exit straight away.
They'd had one night, one perfect night. Perfect, at least for her. She caught her breath at her new thought. What if it wasn't so perfect for Gordon? She knew his new demeanour stemmed from the new item of hospital equipment. Yet a part of her couldn't help the insecurity which was rapidly festering. There was the niggling thought that perhaps he hadn't enjoyed last night as she had. Perhaps he found her unattractive, or perhaps she had done something wrong in their love making.
He might be regretting it, whether it had been perfect for him or not; he must be regretting it! She'd been so callous and selfish to lead him to bed. She'd spared no thought to how it might affect him. Even without the arrival of the iron lung, the night shouldn't have happen. Caroline was ill, in a coma, with no foreseeable improvement to her condition. And Jill had dragged this sick woman's husband to bed.
With one final sigh, Jill dragged herself from her car. As she strode with outward confidence up the gravelled path, she couldn't help the growing tightness in her chest as she contemplated just what the future would hold. She'd feared an end to their relationship before, of course, probably more than most people given the circumstances. But whilst they had been growing closer, it had seemed a distant possibility. Now, with the imminent arrival of Gordon's wife, the possibility had become a probability, or even a certainty.