Back in London things returned to normal with frightening speed and Paris soon seemed like a dream. Kate's team were booked back to back and the demand for theatres was at a premium.
She worked with Martin a number of times that next week, all the while maintaining a professional manner but she couldn't help looking at him whenever she was unobserved. She loved the way he looked when he was bent over the operating table, his brow furrowed in concentration and his eyes focused on what he was doing. If the others in the operating theatre only knew what passions simmered in this man they would be shocked. They would never believe that he could make a woman melt with desire and make her feel so loved. And how the hands performing this life-saving surgery could caress a woman's body until she felt weak and his mouth could drive her wild. She gave herself a mental shake and smiled under her surgical mask. Pull yourself together Rushton. You've kept the interaction professional so far, don't mess it up now. But it was difficult when all she wanted to do was stare at him or touch him in some way. But instead they greeted each other and spoke as they had always done which meant he grunted and she nodded and smiled. Just like before they became lovers.
Lovers. It still sounded strange to her. But they were lovers. The weekend she had spent with him had been the happiest of her entire life. But now that they were back she'd not been alone with him again. He had a punishing schedule with surgery from as early as 6 am and going on all day. On other days he had back to back consultations in his rooms. Then he still had to do his rounds twice a day and give his attention to the gaggle of junior registrars that trailed behind him and then deal with whatever else was thrown at him in the way of emergencies.
Kate's schedule was no less hectic. She attended procedures all day and tried to keep the consultants happy with the theatre schedules, making sure that the staff she allocated was the best for each procedure. By the time she got home in the evenings she was sometimes too exhausted to eat. She couldn't imagine how Martin must feel. But the coming weekend they were both free and they'd tentatively planned to meet up - she hoped more than anything that nothing would derail it and that she would be able to see him – even just for a little while.
On Friday evening, as she was leaving, she saw him walking towards her in the corridor. His tall distinguished figure had her heart racing. She smiled as he opened the street door for her and they walked down the steps together and onto the pavement outside. It was already dark and there were no taxis.
"How are you Martin?" She said looking up at him, "You look tired." Her voice was soft and concerned.
The dim light created shadowy lines on his face and made his hair look silver. "I'm fine," He looked intently at her. She was so lovely with her hair framing her face. "And how are you?" His voice was soft and deep and made her heart feel full.
"I miss you." Her eyes searched his.
"Yes." And she knew he meant so much more than that single word.
She wanted to ask him to come home with her but she was afraid he would think she was pushing him. She kept on thinking of Lara Perkins. What had she said to Martin that he'd felt he had to break it off with her? She didn't want to make that mistake.
Just then a taxi came into view and he hailed it. "Come Kate, we can share."
They got in and he ventured a glance at her as the taxi pulled away and filtered into the busy evening traffic. She looked worried. He slid his hand across the seat and covered hers and she turned to look at him. Were those tears he could see or was it just the way the light reflected in her eyes? She turned her hand and gripped his. "I miss you," she whispered.
Even though he was technically still on call until the next morning, Martin knew he couldn't spend another night without her. "Come home with me Kate," he said softly.
Kate's face lit up and she nodded and gripped his hand tightly. "Can we stop at my place first…for a few things?"
The taxi stopped outside Kate's block and she ran upstairs and quickly packed an overnight bag. In a few minutes she was back and they were on their way to Kensington. She slipped her hand into his again.
His townhouse was part of a terrace in a tree-lined avenue softly illuminated by Victorian street lamps. Martin unlocked the front door and switched on the hall light, standing aside to let her in. The hall led into a sitting room which was beautifully but sparely furnished. To the left was a study with walls that were lined with books and there was an antique mantel clock in pieces on his desk. She smiled as she imagined him sitting there absorbed in his hobby. Off to one side the sitting room flowed into a well-appointed kitchen with a small dining table. To the right of the front door were stairs that led to the bedrooms above.
Kate went further into the sitting room and heard Martin close and lock the front door. She put her bag on the floor and turned to watch him as he walked towards her. He looked so handsome in his dark grey suit. She put her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder and sighed when she felt his arms go around her. It felt so good. She'd been longing to be in his arms all week.
He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. His eyes were soft as he stared at her and his hand stroked her hair. "I've missed you Kate," he whispered and before she could speak his mouth found hers. Their kiss was exquisitely gentle and tender and it set their hearts racing. When he lifted his head he said, "Let me show you upstairs and you can put your things out while I fix us something to eat."
Upstairs there were two double bedrooms with en suite bathrooms. He showed her to his room. It was very tidy and masculine with its dark blue bed-linen and spartan décor. She unpacked and went downstairs to find him in the kitchen with an apron covering his suit. He had prepared a chicken salad accompanied by ciabatta he'd bought the day before at his local bakery.
They sat at the little table and ate, not talking much and once again she was struck by how tired he looked. When they'd tidied up and packed the dishwasher, they sat together on the sofa and she nestled against his chest. He told her about a lecture he'd been asked to give at Cambridge – a specialised surgical procedure where other doctors would have the opportunity to ask questions while he operated. He wasn't so keen on it but this is the way things had been taught throughout the centuries and was why the operating room was called a theatre in the first place. These days however, the audience was in a separate, enclosed observation area and questions were asked via audio-visual systems with feeds to and from the theatre. He was scheduled to go in a week and would be gone for three days.
Kate was pleased for him. She was always interested in what he was doing but she was worried that he didn't seem to be getting enough time to wind down and certainly no real time to himself. She wondered if she could persuade him to go away for a weekend somewhere – not too far so they would save on traveling time. She'd love to go to Portwenn but it was too far and it would be a bit awkward for them to stay together. She would find something and put it to him when he came back.
They spent a tender night in each other's arms and in the morning they made breakfast together then headed out of London for a drive, both of them hoping they could spend a day in each other's company without bumping into anyone they knew. Martin drove a silver Lexus which, he told her, he only took out over weekends when he was not on call, which was a pity because he loved driving.
They drove about an hour outside London and eventually stopped at a rambling old inn, probably dating from the 1700s if she had to guess. He turned to her, "I thought we could have some lunch here - if you'd like to?" She nodded eagerly.
He got out and walked around the front of the car to open her door for her. As she stepped out she put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently, "This looks lovely Martin."
"Yes…it has a good reputation and I have wanted to try it for some time now." He fell into step beside her as they approached the entrance. "I hope it's up to scratch."
Their table had a view of beautifully manicured lawns leading down to a river. There were numerous aquatic birds around including a few swans and Kate was fascinated by some children throwing little pieces of bread at them in the hope of enticing them closer. The swans of course ignored them but the geese and ducks, greedy as always, obliged and swam to the bank.
The waiter took their drinks order, Martin ordered sparkling water and she a virgin daiquiri. He raised one eyebrow. She laughed and said, "Don't worry there's no alcohol in it…hence the virgin part of it."
When the waiter had taken their meal order and left, Kate looked at Martin, who was studiously looking out the window. "How did you get to know about this place? It's delightful."
"I read a review in the Times a while ago. I've been meaning to try it…but until now…"
"And now here we are." She smiled at him. "Once before when we had dinner you seemed to know a lot about how the food had been prepared. I gathered that you like to cook." She looked at him expectantly and when he didn't answer she said, "Do you?"
"Yes…I taught myself. I'm very particular about ingredients." Kate smiled. She could just imagine. She looked at him sitting across from her and thought that even though they had shared so much together, they didn't really know a lot about one another. Especially the little things and the interests they had, what their likes and dislikes were - what made them sad, annoyed, happy. Did anything make Martin truly happy?
She articulated her thoughts. "We don't know very much about each other do we Martin?" She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows.
He swallowed. "Umm…not really...no." He wasn't sure he liked where Kate obviously want to go with that question.
"Well I think we should remedy that, don't you? Tell me where you were born...schooling...all of that."
He looked worried.
"OK I'll go first…I was born in north-west Cornwall in a little village called Portwenn. Went to school there and in Truro and then on to university in London…mother's a writer, father a professor of English literature…was a professor…" She paused. "I have a weakness for chocolate and books...and handsome vascular surgeons." She smiled impishly. "Your turn."
He blushed and looked uncomfortable. "Umm…" his mouth opened then shut again. But when she continued to smile gently at him, he said in a rush, "Born in London, went to boarding school in Berkshire…then on to medical school. Father also a surgeon - mother…umm…umm…they live in Portugal…we don't have much contact." He took a sip of his water and fiddled with the cutlery in front of him.
"None whatsoever?
"No." The word sounded curt. "Umm...I'd rather not talk about that."
She looked at him. His face had taken on that closed off expression she'd seen so much of when she'd first met him. She now knew it meant that he was warding off hurt, protecting his vulnerability. Her heart melted for him. "It's OK Martin. You don't have to if you don't want to."
His stern look softened a little. She smiled at him, "Now tell me about the ring instead."
"Ring?" He frowned. "What ring?"
"The one on your right hand." She looked pointedly at his hand where it lay on the table. "Do I have anything to be worried about?"
His fingers immediately went to it, twisting it round. "Worried?" He was aware that he was repeating everything she said again.
"No wife or ex-wife out there somewhere?" she smiled mischievously.
He looked appalled. "No. Why would you think that?"
"Well because it looks like a wedding ring."
"It is a wedding ring…it belonged to my grandfather," he said almost indignantly. "He was a physician. He gave me my first frog to dissect when I was five. His name was Henry Christopher Ellingham." He took the ring off and showed her the engraving on the inside 'HCE - CRE 5.6.1930'. "My grandparents' initials." His face was soft as he looked at it.
"You loved your grandfather?"
He looked uncomfortable and struggled to respond. "Yes…" he managed eventually. He put the ring on again. "I always wear it. In theatre it's always in my pocket." He looked down - suddenly extremely self-conscious.
He really was a complex man. There were so many facets to him, like the one he was showing her now - that he had a sentimental side to him. That he had loved his grandparents. And it also told her that probably the only male figure in Martin's young life who might have nurtured him and been a role model had been ripped from him - separated from him when he was sent to boarding school at such a young age. She hoped she never met his parents. She wouldn't be able to control her tongue if she did.
Just then the waiter arrived with their meals - seafood paella for her and grilled sole, no butter with seasonal vegetables for him. He seemed to love his fish. So did she.
They ate in silence for a while then he asked if she was enjoying her food. Yes she was…and was he? Yes, quite acceptable. She judged that to be high praise coming from him. She asked him to try some of her paella and see if he could identify what spices had been used and he did and he suggested several combinations. He ended by saying that it was tasty and next time he would order that.
Next time. She liked that.
Later, after the waiter had cleared their plates away and brought them coffee, Kate tilted her head and looked at him. "You haven't yet shared one of your weaknesses with me Martin…you're not getting away that easily."
He dipped his chin and gave a little cough. "Weaknesses?" He looked at her long and hard. She was his weakness. But he couldn't say that.
"Yes…you already know that chocolate is one of mine."
"Ah… you mean to eat?"
"Well yes…what did you think I meant?" She grinned at him. "I already know what some of your other weaknesses are…" and he blushed.
He was so adorable. She just wanted to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. One day…maybe.
They'd finished their coffee and Kate suggested that they go for a walk down to the river and he agreed and called for the bill.
Outside it was fresh but not too cold and they walked slowly down a little footpath on the river bank. The brown water flowed by with the occasional duck fighting against the current to forage for food. They eventually reached a slight bend in the river where there was bench under a huge willow tree and they sat down side by side, mesmerised by the flowing water with its gentle sound and its lazy progress.
Kate moved close to him so that their thighs were touching. He looked at her with a little smile tugging at his mouth. She loved that look. He turned to glance around but they were alone and the inn was out of sight round the bend in the river. He put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her hand on his thigh and turned her face up inviting him to kiss her which he did…slowly, sweetly, deeply so that her breath stopped and her heart pounded wildly. "Mmm...Martin Ellingham…I should ask you where you learned to kiss like that but I think I might be a bit jealous if you told me."
He grunted. "No-one taught me." He dipped his chin.
"So a natural talent then?" she said giving him that mischievous grin that he loved so much.
He leaned in to kiss her again and she put her hand behind his head and stroked his hair because he liked that.
They left shortly afterwards and on the way back Martin put on Rossini string sonatas and they both enjoyed the drive listening to the beautiful music. Kate rested her hand lightly on his thigh and felt content. Her love for this man was growing bigger every day.
That evening she sat on the sofa reading looking up from time to time to watch him through the open doorway of his study as he worked on his clock. He was bent over the desk, concentrating over the tiny parts he was fitting into the clock's mechanism. After an hour she got up and came to stand behind him, massaging his shoulders and bending down to nuzzle his neck. "Would you like some tea?"
He put down the little screwdriver and the part he was holding and pulled her round to sit on his lap. "Tea would be nice." He kissed her gently and stroked her cheek with his fingers and his eyes were tender as he looked deeply into hers. She wanted so badly to say the words I love you, but she was afraid. Surely though he could see it in her eyes. And what was he thinking when he looked at her like that? Had they not shared more than just a casual fling together? It felt like it to her but Martin was spare with his words. His actions and the way he looked at her told a different story; that there was a depth of feeling but she needed to hear it from him. Either way, she was getting to a point where she wouldn't be able to help herself and sooner or later she would blurt out her love for him when they were making love.
She stroked his face tenderly and leaned in to kiss his lips. "Neither of us will have any tea if we carry on like this, will we?" She smiled into his eyes and felt his hand run down over her breast to her belly and come to rest on her thigh, his eyes were half closed as he looked at her. "Mmm…you're right." He nuzzled her neck and she shivered with the pleasure of it. "Is that a problem, do you think?" his voice was deep against the base of her throat where a pulse hammered wildly. Kate moaned softly and she pulled his head up so she could kiss him.
They made love on the big sofa, taking their time with each other, gazing at each other's bodies as if to memorize every inch. Each touch felt like an act of worship for Kate. She wanted to be close to him - inside of him as he was inside of her. They moved slowly together, intensely aware of each other as if their senses were merged. Their eyes were locked as they gave of themselves and a much deeper awareness came to life. They both felt it. They were both rendered helpless by this fragile and vulnerable state. Afterwards they lay close together, neither of them speaking but both trembling on the verge of saying those words of commitment. Both desperately afraid that those very words would drive the other away.
Deep down Martin felt he didn't deserve Kate. If he told her he loved her it would change the dynamic of their relationship. She would feel that same panic he had felt when Lara Perkins had declared her love and she would want to get as far away from him as possible. She was so beautiful – she could have any man she wanted. Why would she want to spend the rest of her life with a man like him?
Kate felt that Martin was unable to commit and would run a mile if she told him she loved him. He was so self-sufficient and didn't seem to need anyone in his life. But then again, he was so hard to read. She got the impression that sometimes he was like a lonely little boy looking at life from the side-lines, unable to participate because of his shyness. At other times, when he was working he was bold and assertive and fully in charge. Right now she didn't care about any of that. She would rather have him on these terms even for a little while and just maybe he would come to see that their relationship was not a cage but a place of sharing; that there was more to their relationship than the physical chemistry between them. She prayed with all her heart that this would happen because she knew without a doubt that as long as she lived there could never be anyone else for her.