Tempted by Dr. Daisy Page 11

Which would have been fine, except that it was getting hotter as spring moved towards summer, and Daisy needed to plant her containers. And because it was warm, because the landscapers had carefully pruned the trees and left a shady canopy over part of the garden, Florence was out there with Ben, running around in the fresh air and playing games with him.

  Daisy wanted to join in.

  Well, no, she didn’t. She wanted him to take her away, she corrected herself, but of course he didn’t, and Florence, being the delightfully friendly little girl that she was, kept coming over to her with things she’d found—a wood louse, a pretty stone, a flower she’d picked her—endless little visits that scraped away at the sore place in her heart until it bled.

  ‘Can Froggy come to my garden?’ she asked after yet another trip to show something off. ‘I want him to see it.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, and Florence picked him up, very carefully in case she hurt him, and carried him back to Ben, chattering to him all the way.

  Daisy turned her back on it all and carried on potting up her containers, but all the time her ears were tuned to the sound of their voices, and she reached for the last pot with an element of desperation.

  Thank goodness for that, she thought as she crammed in the last scrap of lobelia and picked up the hose. A good soaking and they’d be done and she could go back inside and make herself scarce.

  ‘They’s very pretty!’

  She turned the hose off and smiled down at Florence. ‘Thank you. They’ll be prettier when all the flowers come out, and some of them will smell lovely.’

  Her chubby little fingers touched a blue brachyscome flower with exaggerated care. ‘Is that a daisy like you?’

  She laughed softly. ‘Sort of. It’s called a Swan River daisy, and these are verbena, and this is a geranium. Here, squash this leaf in your fingers and smell them. You have to rub your fingers together—there. Can you smell it now?’

  Her little button nose wrinkled, and she giggled. ‘It smells funny—like lemons!’

  ‘That’s right. It’s called a lemon-scented geranium, and it has really pretty pink flowers like your bedroom.’

  ‘And the daisies are blue.’

  ‘They are. And the verbena’s going to be a lovely purple colour.’

  She fingered another plant. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘That’s lobelia, and this is an ivy-leaf geranium, and this is called Creeping Jenny—’

  ‘Daisy, I’m so, so sorry, I had to take a phone call,’ Ben said, reappearing beside them. ‘Florence, come on, darling, leave Daisy alone. You can see she’s busy.’

  ‘No, she’s finished!’ Florence said. ‘Aren’t you?’

  Her little face was tilted earnestly up to Daisy’s, and she felt her heart squeeze. ‘Yes, I am. It’s OK, Ben.’

  But it wasn’t. Her heart was being invaded by him and his little daughter, slowly but surely taking up residence in every nook and cranny of it until it was bursting with love for them.

  She looked down again, and Florence was stroking the flowers in the last little pot tenderly.

  Oh, what the hell, she thought, and bent down, pressing her hands between her knees and smiling at the little girl.

  ‘I tell you what, why don’t you have this little one, and you can water it when you’re here at the weekends, and look after it and watch it grow. I’m sure Daddy can find a place for it in your garden somewhere.’

  She lifted it up and held it out to him, and after a second’s hesitation, he took it.

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, as if he knew what it had cost her, that it wasn’t the plant she was giving his daughter but a gift infinitely more precious. ‘There, Florence. Your own pot! What do you say?’

  ‘Thank you,’ she piped, beaming at it and then at Daisy, making her heart turn over. ‘Can Froggy look after it for me when I’m not here?’

  Ben sighed. ‘No, he belongs to Daisy, Florence, you know that.’

  ‘She can have him. That’s fine.’

  He gave a rueful chuckle and thanked her. She knew perfectly well that he thought the little concrete frog was as hideous as she did, but Florence adored him, and that was all that mattered.

  He put the pot down in his garden, out of the way of the landscapers, and she put Froggy down beside it.

  ‘Come on, Florence, time to wash your hands. We’re going to go to the playground now.’

  Florence ran to the outside tap and turned it on carefully, running her fingers under the dribble. ‘Washed them!’ she said, wiping them on her once-pink dungarees, and then bent over, sticking her little rump in the air and telling Froggy very seriously to look after her plant. Daisy watched her, torn between laughter and tears, and she was very much afraid the tears would win.

  She’d just managed to suppress them both when Florence straightened up and bounced over to Ben and said, ‘Ready!’

  She waggled her fingers at Daisy, and she waggled hers back and squashed the little pang inside. ‘Have a lovely time,’ she said, wishing she was going, too. Wishing so many things that were just so dangerous to wish…

  Ben, watching the interchange between them, saw the sadness in her eyes just before she masked it, and before he could stop himself, he said impulsively, ‘Why don’t you come, too?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Daisy come! Please come!’ Florence squealed, bouncing up and down with her little curls flying, and he watched the brief internal battle before she crumpled.

  She looked up at him, reproach in her eyes, and was on the point of refusing when Florence ran up to her and took her hand. ‘Please come? It will be much funner if you’re there and you said you’re finished,’ she begged with wide, pleading eyes just so like Ben’s it hurt, and Daisy gave up.

  ‘I’m not dressed for it,’ she said a little desperately, but Florence didn’t care.

  ‘You can change,’ she said with three-year-old logic. ‘We’ll wait for you. Please please please please?’

  Cursing him silently, she stripped off her gardening gloves and ran upstairs, changing into clean jeans and a T-shirt. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and was reaching for the makeup when she stopped herself.

  No! They were taking the child to the playground, against her better judgement, and she didn’t need to tart herself up for it! The sooner they went, the sooner they’d be back, and the sooner it would be over. She ran back down, and found Florence and Froggy in earnest conversation about the plant.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ben said softly as she reached his side.

  She made a small, ‘just you wait’ sort of noise, and fell in beside them as they headed to the little park just a couple of streets away, Florence dancing around between them like a puppy, oblivious to the atmosphere between the adults.

  ‘Can we go on the see-saw?’ she asked Ben hopefully.

  ‘Maybe, if Daisy doesn’t mind.’

  Daisy did mind, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. The problem was that although Ben weighed more than she and Florence put together, he was much, much heavier than Florence alone, so without Daisy to balance they didn’t have a hope of making the see-saw work.

  Simple ergonomics—except there was nothing simple about this equation.

  Ben + Florence + Daisy = Disaster, she thought, and she was right. He went on one end, and she went on the other, with Florence cuddled up against her tummy and hanging onto the handle. He sat down carefully, and they lifted up into the air, but not so far that Daisy’s feet were off the ground.

  And Florence loved it.

  Up and down, up and down, faster and faster while Florence shrieked with delight, her little body snuggled safe against Daisy’s and making her want to cry. So sweet. So precious. So very, very easy to love.

  She could have scooped her up and cuddled her to bits, but she kept on pushing, up and down, and up and down, until finally Ben stopped the ride by bracing his legs and bringing them to a halt.

  ‘More!’ Florence pleaded, but in the middle of laughing with Florence and havi
ng fun, Ben had caught Daisy’s eyes and seen the pain in them, and he’d felt gutted.

  What the hell were they doing? What on earth was he doing to her? To Florence? To all of them? He’d promised Daisy he’d keep Florence out of her way, and he’d done nothing of the sort.

  ‘No, that’s enough see-sawing,’ he said firmly but gently, and got off. ‘Come on, I’ll push you on the swing. You like that.’

  He lifted her clear of the see-saw and carried her to the swings, settling her in the seat safely before pushing it high. The see-saw forgotten, she shrieked with delighted laughter, and Daisy went over to a bench and sat down and watched them, wondering how on earth she could have got herself into this position again.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He’d lifted her out of the swing and left her on a bouncy little rocking horse nearby, and he sat down heavily beside Daisy and propped his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them, looking the picture of dejection. ‘I should have thought before I opened my mouth.’

  ‘Yes, you should. You shouldn’t have asked me in front of her,’ she said quietly. ‘You knew I’d have no choice. I couldn’t refuse a child, could I? Not without sounding mean.’

  He tilted his head so he could see her, his eyes searching. ‘You could have done—but I didn’t think you wanted to. You looked so sad—as if you couldn’t bear to be left out.’

  ‘And this helps?’ she asked incredulously. ‘I can’t do it, Ben. It was supposed to be about us—about fun, remember? Fun dates, hot sex and no complications, that’s what we said. But it’s not fun any more, Ben, it just hurts. I’m sorry. I thought we could keep this in its box, but we can’t. It just spills over into everything else, and we’re all going to end up hurt. It’s just hopeless. You can’t keep her away from me while you’re living next door, it just isn’t possible, and I’m not playing happy families all over again. I’m not ready for this, and I don’t know if I ever will be.’

  His eyes met hers, the naked emotion in them tearing through her, and then he masked it and sat up straight, his hands braced on his knees as he dragged in a deep breath. ‘So where does that leave us?’ he asked, dreading her answer, and she gave a sad little shrug.

  ‘We both know it’s going nowhere, so why drag it on?’

  He opened his mouth, closed it and pressed his lips into a firm line. How could he have been so stupid? It was never going to work. She was on the rebound, he’d known that, and this was resurrecting all that old hurt. Well, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned.

  ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Look, why don’t you head on back, and I’ll bring her back in a little while. And we’ll keep out of your way.’

  She nodded and got unsteadily to her feet, then with a little wave to Florence, she walked away.

  Something she should have done weeks ago…

  ‘Daddy, why’s Daisy going?’

  Ben could hardly answer her. The lump in his throat was huge, and he swallowed hard, then again.

  ‘Uh—she’s got lots to do,’ he said eventually, and wondered if it was his imagination or if his voice really sounded as if he’d swallowed a handful of rusty nails.

  ‘Can I go on the slide?’

  ‘OK. Come on, then.’

  He helped her up, over and over again, dredging up a smile from somewhere until he thought his face would crack, then he called a halt and took hold of her hand.

  ‘Come on, let’s go back now. It’s time for supper.’

  ‘Can we see Daisy?’

  ‘Daisy’s busy,’ he said, his voice catching, and he cleared his throat and headed for the gate, Florence in tow. He wasn’t really concentrating on Florence, just putting one foot in front of the other, his thoughts tumbling in free-fall.

  We both know it’s going nowhere.

  But he needed her so much, and it seemed to have been going so well. For the first time in years, he’d been truly happy.

  ‘Daddy, look at me!’

  She was walking along the top of a little low garden wall—something that under normal circumstances he would have stopped her doing, but he just smiled absently and tightened his grip on her hand in case she toppled.

  And then a loose brick twisted away under her foot, and she fell off the wall and he jerked her arm up without thinking to steady her.

  The thin scream cut through him to the bone, and he dropped to his knees beside her, gathering her gently into his arms as a sickening wave of guilt rushed over him. ‘No! Don’t touch!’ she screamed, backing away, her arm hanging awkwardly in front of her, held in place by the other one, and he stared at her, shock holding him rigid for a second.

  He’d dislocated her elbow! He couldn’t believe he’d done it. So easy, so stupid. And he knew what to do now, but he couldn’t do it alone, and she was his daughter, for heaven’s sake, and if he’d only been paying attention…

  ‘It’s OK, sweetheart. It’s just in a crick. It’ll be fine soon. I’ll call Daisy, she’ll come and help us.’ It would have to be Daisy, because Jane was away with Peter. Of all the weekends to decide to go away with him…

  He fumbled for his phone, his fingers shaking so much he could scarcely operate it, and when it went straight to her voicemail he could have wept. He was about to call the house phone when she rang him back.

  ‘Ben, I—’

  ‘Daisy, help. She fell off the wall and I grabbed her, and I’ve dislocated her elbow, and Jane’s away, so I can’t ask her.’

  There was a fraction of a second of silence, in which she must have heard Daisy sobbing, then she said, calmly and firmly, ‘OK, stay with her, I’ll bring the car and we’ll take her to A and E. Where are you?’

  ‘Um…’ He looked around. ‘Just—just at the end of the road. We’re nearly home, but I can’t carry her, she won’t let me touch her. Daisy, I can’t—’

  ‘It’s OK. I’ll be with you. Don’t move.’

  It probably only took her a couple of minutes, but it felt like forever. He thought he was going to throw up, and he couldn’t stop shaking. ‘Florence, darling, I’m so sorry—come here. Sit on my knee and wait for Daisy.’

  She sat, leaning her shoulder against his chest and holding her arm very, very still, the quiet sobbing more telling than any screaming would have been. She was shaking like a leaf, her tiny body racked with tremors, and guilt was crippling him.

  If only he’d been paying attention, he would have seen the state of the wall and stopped her before she’d hurt herself. She shouldn’t have been on it anyway, it didn’t belong to them and he would never normally have let her walk on it—so why had he? Because he’d been selfishly obsessing.

  ‘Ben?’

  He lifted his head, and saw Daisy crouched in front of him, her eyes concerned. She lifted a hand and touched his cheek, then stroked Florence’s hair gently. ‘Come on, darling, let’s get you and Daddy to hospital so they can make your arm better. OK?’

  Florence shook her head. ‘Don’t want to go to hospital,’ she sobbed unevenly. ‘Want to see Froggy!’

  Oh, no. Daisy’s heart contracted, and she stroked the child’s hair with all the love she’d been suppressing for weeks. ‘You can come back and tell him all about it very soon. You don’t want to make him worried, do you?’

  She had no idea if she was saying the right thing or not—not, probably, but if it got her in the car then she’d worry about it later, and frankly Ben looked as if he was past coping with this situation.

  ‘Come on, poppet,’ she murmured, helping her to her feet, and then she lifted her incredibly carefully into the car on his lap, shut the door and went round to the front and drove to the hospital as if she was on eggshells.

  She let them out at the A and E entrance, then parked the car and ran back.

  She could hear Florence sobbing quietly, hear Ben’s gruff, tender voice trying to reassure her, and she went in and crouched down beside them.

  ‘Have you checked in?’ she asked, and he nodded. ‘I’ll go and find someone,
’ she said, and opened the curtain as Andy Gallagher walked up.

  ‘Daisy, hi.’

  Thank goodness. She’d met him on several occasions over emergency patients, and he was brilliant. She smiled in relief.

  ‘Hi. Can you take a look at Ben Walker’s daughter? She’s got a radial subluxation. She fell off a wall and he caught her.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said softly, smiled at her, and followed the sound of sobbing.

  ‘Hi, Ben,’ he said, and crouched down in front of them. ‘Hello, young lady. Who are you?’

  ‘F-Fl-Florence,’ she said, sniffing and sobbing.

  ‘Well, Florence, I’m Andy, and I work with your daddy and Daisy here in the hospital. And Daisy tells me you’ve hurt your arm. Can you show me where it hurts?’

  She sniffed again, let go very carefully and pointed to her elbow region.

  ‘Oh, dear. That’s not very nice. Shall we fix it, then?’ he asked, warning Ben, and taking her elbow firmly in his left hand, he took her hand in his right and with a quick twist and flex, it was done.

  There was an audible click, Florence sobbed hysterically for a second or two, then whimpered for a moment before she got off Ben’s knee and ran to Daisy, throwing her arms round her shaking legs and hugging her tight.

  ‘Fixed, I think,’ Andy said with a smile at Daisy, and Ben shut his eyes, dropped his head back and went chalk white.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Andy said, grabbing Ben’s head and dragging it forward over his knees.

  A long moment later he straightened up, blinked and pulled a face, and then shook his head. ‘Sorry, it’s just the shock. I just can’t believe I was so stupid. One minute she was on this wall, the next she was screaming in a heap, and it’s all my fault.’

  ‘Rubbish, it’s easily done. She’s fine now. We’d probably better have another look at it, maybe take a picture. Can we do that, Florence? Can we take a picture of your arm?’

  ‘For Mummy?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Ben said faintly in the background, the implications dawning on him, and Daisy took over.

  ‘It’s a picture of the inside—it’s very clever. It shows all your bones.’