A Very Single Midwife. Fiona McArthur
was hoping the bus driver would drop me off. It’s a small town.’
Bella smiled and his own lips curved. Hell, she was beautiful. She was still talking and he tried to concentrate.
‘Are you going home now or were you planning to wait for the next run in an hour?’
Waiting with Bella would be exquisite torture but, now he realised there was a chance she’d be alone in the bus to pick up strange young people, he’d never settle at home. ‘I’ll wait.’
Bella glanced at him and he couldn’t tell her thoughts from her noncommittal voice. ‘Were you planning on coming on all the trips tonight?’
He avoided her eyes. ‘I don’t like the idea of you being here on your own.’ He stood and watched her squeeze out from behind the wheel and waited for her to go past him before following her out. Her no-nonsense jeans hugged her tiny waist and stretched over the subtle curve of her buttocks and down her long legs like a second skin as she descended the steps. Scott closed his eyes.
At work he could control the direction of his thoughts. But tonight, after the decision he’d made today to get used to Bella being in his life again, it was much harder to stay detached.
In the old boarding-house-cum-family home it was quieter than he’d expected for just after eight o’clock in the evening. The bustling family atmosphere he’d vaguely assumed would distract him from lusting after Bella wasn’t there. Now he was in trouble.
‘Drop in and say hello to Aunt Sophie. She’d love to see you,’ Bella said over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.
Scott glanced at the closed door in the foyer and accepted that the light streaming from under it meant that Sophie was awake. He knocked and a querulous voice called for him to enter.
The white-haired old lady was hunched in front of the television, watching the horse races as he’d expected, and she cackled softly when she saw him. Her bird-like face widened into a grin and he wondered not for the first time how she managed to eat with so few teeth.
‘Bit late for a house call, Dr Rainford,’ Sophie said.
Scott walked across the room to stand beside her chair. ‘I’m doing the bus run with Bella tonight. How are you, Sophie? Keeping the house under control as usual?’
‘Bella runs it. I just watch. And soon I’ll see my new great-nephew.’
Scott smiled at the old lady’s delight. ‘He’s a fine young fellow and Abbey looked wonderful when I saw her before tea.’
‘They deserve their happiness. And so do you. You might think of doing something about it before you get too old.’
Scott raised his eyebrows but, in fact, nothing Bella’s aunt said could surprise him after all these years of being her doctor. Sophie’s eyes had strayed from his, back to the screen, as a new race started. He’d ceased to exist.
‘Funny you should say that,’ he murmured. More loudly, he said, ‘I’ll go, then. Good luck with your punting.’
She flicked him a sly glance. ‘Good luck with yours.’ And turned back to the television.
Scott bit back a sigh as he left the room. One thing about old age seemed to be that you could say what you wanted, when you wanted!
BACK in the foyer, the twins had disappeared up the stairs and then a barely audible thumping beat vibrated through the house. He looked down where the noise seemed to be seeping through the floorboards under his feet. Thump, thump, thump. He wondered if his son liked that kind of music and even if Bella did. He was definitely too old for Bella. He thought wistfully of his own quiet house until Bella returned from the kitchen and then age was forgotten.
She was munching an apple and he couldn’t help the sudden connection in his head to Adam and Eve and the malicious serpent of desire. Even in jeans she embodied the essence of womanhood and he could feel the too-familiar surge of frustration at the unfairness of fate.
‘It seems Vivie’s gone to bed.’ Bella said as she rubbed the uneaten side of her apple against her breast to shine it. Scott almost groaned at the undulation of tissue under the fruit. Oblivious, she went on, ‘Her baby was unsettled last night and she’s probably trying to catch up on some sleep.’ Bella tilted her head and he could see she was unsure what to do with him. ‘Do you want to listen to music in the study until the next trip?’
Scott tore his eyes away from the tightness of her shirt and dragged his thoughts back under control as he followed her into the book-lined room. He remembered the room they used as a study from when Abbey had lived here, but the aura was different.
Bella had painted the walls a soft lilac and replaced the old curtains with white linen. She gestured to an under-stuffed chair as she moved across to turn on the CD player. ‘Please, sit down.’
Before he knew it Carol King had started to sing softly in the background about a life and a tapestry and he relaxed a little at the pleasant music. Bella crossed the room back to him as he sank into the chair. And sank comprehensively until his knees almost came up to his chin. He pretended to be comfortable though he felt like he’d been swallowed whole. At least it took his mind off Bella’s breasts.
Bella perched on the arm of a sister chair and Scott could see why. Bella would disappear if she sank as far as he had.
Her eyes twinkled. ‘Sorry about the chairs. There used to be a chaise longue in here but Rohan asked if Abbey could take it with her when they got married. Something to do with happy memories or something and I couldn’t say no.’ She grinned. ‘He’s so romantic and Abbey is so matter-of-fact. Love is grand if it works out.’ She shrugged and patted the chair.
‘I found these really cheap at a garage sale.’ Her smile faded and she glanced out of the window at the house next door where her sister and brother-in-law lived. ‘Poor old Rohan looked strained today while Abbey was in labour.’
She turned back to stare thoughtfully at Scott. ‘And so did you after the baby was born. What happened to a show of relief and joy at the birth of the new Roberts baby?’
She was different in her own home, more decisive and assertive, and it knocked Scott off balance. So much so that he answered by speaking about something he’d least intended. Something he hadn’t told anyone since he’d found out yesterday.
‘I was thinking about my own son.’
Bella blinked. ‘You have a son? Since when?’
She looked so incredulous that Scott winced. ‘It is possible, you know. I am a man.’
Bella snorted, not unlike her maiden aunt, and raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve been aware of that for a while.’ And suddenly it was back—that aura between them that had shimmered in the bus. She blushed and looked away but not before he saw her moisten her lips with her tongue. That brief glimpse of pink softness almost undid all the hard work he’d expended on controlling his lust.
He rose, not without difficulty, from the softness of the upholstery, and walked over to the window. He had to move away or he’d pull her into his arms and do something he should have done many years ago.
He clung grimly to a topic that could divert him. ‘As to “since when”, a letter arrived from him yesterday. My son, Michael…’ he shook his head as if still unable to believe he was a father ‘…apparently was adopted by his maternal grandparents not long after his birth, when his mother was killed in an accident. Until they died, and he came across his birth certificate, he didn’t even know he had other parents. He only mentioned that he’d discovered his real mother was long dead and the letter was to let me know my ex-wife had died. “In case I wondered”, he added, and he might come to visit me in a month or two. He doesn’t seem very keen to meet me.’
Scott turned