‘OK. Now?’
‘Yeah, send him straight in. I’ll return him to the waiting-room.’
She went back and sent Mr Blake to David, then confronted Mrs Blake.
‘OK. On your notes it says you have a diaphragm. I’ve spoken to Dr Trevellyan; he confirmed it.’
Panic flared in the woman’s eyes. ‘He won’t tell Neil, will he? I mean, it is confidential?’
‘Of course he won’t tell him. And clearly you haven’t, or else you wouldn’t be here today talking about infertility.’
She let the silence stretch, then Mrs Blake gave a shaky sigh and reluctantly met Emily’s eyes. ‘I don’t want another baby,’ she said slowly. ‘At least, not Neil’s.’
‘Things don’t seem all sweetness and light between you,’ Emily acknowledged.
The woman gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘You could say that. It was OK for a while, we struggled along making the best of it, but then—there’s someone else, someone I love—’ She pressed her fingers to her mouth, clearly upset, and Emily settled back in the chair.
‘Take your time,’ she said reassuringly.
‘He’s wonderful—warm, tender, understanding.’ She paused. ‘He’s also married.’
‘Ah.’
‘His wife’s disabled. He loves her, but like a sister, you know? Not that there could be anything else between them. She’s got multiple sclerosis, and she’s—well, she’s bad.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Emily’s soft heart went out to the unknown woman whose husband apparently loved her, but not enough to stay at home.
‘She’s permanently bedridden now—she’s incontinent and her limbs are very spastic. She finds swallowing difficult, and she’s very depressed.’ Ann Blake looked at Emily. ‘I’d hate her to find out about us, but Richard’s coping all alone and someone has to help him through it. He gives her so much, not just his time but friendship, support—he gets really depressed. That was how it started, really—he was sitting in the park, and I was out with Jane and the dog. He looked so bleak, so alone. We started to talk, and …’
Ann paused, her face softening. ‘He laughed, for the first time in months, he said. I saw him again by accident, and then we began arranging to meet, always quite innocently. We never meant this to happen.’
‘But it did.’
‘Yes. And all I want is to be with him, but I can’t.’
‘And meanwhile you’re living with a man you no longer love, who wants to have another child.’
She nodded, and her eyes filled. ‘What can I do? Richard can’t leave Jenny, and I can’t afford to leave Neil and live on my own with Jane. Anyway, he’d probably want custody and she loves him.’
‘Is it fair to her to use her as a smokescreen?’
There was silence for a long while, then Mrs Blake shook her head. ‘No—no, of course not. I didn’t even realise I was doing it until just now. It was only when you suggested that if we put her back in her own bed it would give our physical relationship a chance that I realised how badly I didn’t want that to happen.’
Emily eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Mrs Blake, when did you and your husband last make love?’
She snorted. ‘We don’t make love, Dr Thompson. We had sex back in—June? July? And that was the first time since Easter.’
‘And it’s now September. How long can you fool him?’
She shrugged helplessly. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Nor do I,’ Emily told her, ‘but one thing I do know—it isn’t fair to Jane to use her like this. She must start sleeping in her own bed again, and I don’t mean with you. How you persuade your husband that you aren’t going to have intercourse is your problem, but if you want any help or counselling advice you can always go to Relate, the marriage guidance people. They’re very good. Perhaps you ought to try it.’
‘And what can they do?’ Ann asked heavily. ‘Make me fall back in love with Neil again? I doubt it.’
So did Emily, but there was nothing more she could do. There was clearly no fertility problem that exposure to the appropriate opportunity wouldn’t solve, and there was obviously no need for any further medical involvement. How Mrs Blake dealt with it from here was her own problem, and it was one Emily didn’t envy her one bit.
As she was leaving, she turned back to Emily. ‘Dr Thompson, this is confidential, isn’t it? I mean, whatever we’ve told each other in here won’t get back to Neil?’
‘No, of course not. Not without your permission.’
‘So he won’t ever know what went on in here today?’
As Emily confirmed that, it occurred to her that it was a strange way to phrase the question. After her surgery was over she went and sought David out.
‘Tricky one,’ he said. ‘I expect she intends to lie through her teeth to him.’
‘Oh, dear. Do you think he’ll come back for some answers?’
David shrugged. ‘Depends how convincing she is. Some women aren’t very convincing liars.’
He was looking at her oddly, as if he was referring to her, and she felt her heart thud uncomfortably. Not that she had lied—except by omission, to allow him to think that Jamie was hers.
Still, his eyes searched hers as he stood up and came slowly round the end of the desk.
‘I ought to tell you all about the man she’s having the affair with. Why don’t we do it over a drink on the way home?’
She had to physically stop herself from backing up against the wall to get away from him.
‘No! I mean—I’m tired, and it was Jamie’s first day at school. I ought to get back and see him and ask Mrs Bradley how he was when she picked him up.’
‘Mrs Bradley?’
‘Our housekeeper.’
David’s brows quirked slightly. ‘Housekeeper, eh? I thought you’d have an au pair.’
Emily shook her head. ‘No—it was a provision of Philip’s will that she have a home with us for life, and a living allowance. He left us all very well provided for, and Mrs Bradley’s just another example of his thoughtfulness. She’s been with his family for years, and Jamie knows her. It seemed very sensible, and to be honest I’m very grateful to her for all she does. I couldn’t do my job properly without her.’
‘No, I can see that,’ he said. He paused, those soft grey eyes searching her face until the need to run was paramount. And yet he wasn’t threatening—rather the reverse. His hand came up and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and she quivered at his touch. ‘Poor Emily,’ he said softly. ‘It must be very hard for you. How does Jamie cope with his mother working when his father’s died so recently?’
She should have corrected him then, but she didn’t—another lost opportunity. Tonight, though, didn’t seem to be the time. Instead she focused on his words. ‘I haven’t worked since Philip became very ill near the end.’
‘Was it cancer?’
She nodded. ‘Yes—stomach cancer. For ages he thought he had an ulcer. By the time they realised it wasn’t, it was too late.’
‘But you didn’t pick it up?’
She shook her head. How could she have done? She wasn’t there; but David didn’t know that. She must find a time to tell him all that had happened, before he thought she