The Woman He's Been Waiting For. Jennifer Taylor

she always rose so sweetly to his baiting. He hid his smile as he watched a dozen different expressions cross her face. She was trying to decide whether she should ignore him or tear a strip off him, and he realised with a sudden flash of insight that he didn’t mind which it was. Fighting with Grace was a whole lot more fun than making love had been with many of the women he’d dated over the past few years.

      The thought caught him unawares so it was a relief when Grace swept past him without uttering a word. Harry went to the window after she’d left, wondering where the idea had sprung from. Grace Kennedy had been a pain in the butt ever since he’d met her on their first day at Oxford together. She’d taken an instant dislike to him and had never once missed the opportunity to goad him since then.

      Harry had found himself responding in kind even though he’d known he should try to rise above such childish behaviour. It was just that Grace’s remarks had seemed to prick harder and more painfully than anyone else’s had done. She’d been one of the top students in their year so he’d told himself that it was competitiveness that had caused the problem: Grace had resented the fact that he was every bit as talented as she was and that was why she’d given him hell, and it had become a point of honour that he should retaliate. Now he found himself wondering if there was another reason why they’d kept up the sparring for all these years. Was it possible that he and Grace were attracted to each other?

      He groaned. It was obviously a night for stupid thoughts. He didn’t seriously imagine that Grace found him attractive. They argued because she neither liked nor trusted him, and because he refused to do anything to improve her opinion of him. It made him see how difficult it would be for them to work together in such circumstances. It wouldn’t help poor Miles if he and Grace were constantly at odds.

      He sighed as he stared across the empty car park. It was a blow to face that fact, when he’d thought that he’d found the ideal solution to his problems as well as Miles’s. He’d never got around to telling Miles last night the reason why he was in Cumbria. Miles had been so stressed that he hadn’t found the right moment to broach the subject, which was ironic, really, because this new health service committee he’d been appointed to had been set up specifically to find ways to relieve the pressure on rural GPs.

      Harry had spoken to dozens of general practitioners over the past few weeks, but he still hadn’t been able to get a true picture of all the problems they faced. Few people liked to admit they couldn’t cope and GPs were no different to anyone else in that respect. He’d been hoping to get some truthful answers out of Miles, but once he’d learned about the difficulties his friend was experiencing, Harry had realised it was the opportunity he needed. If he offered to work at the surgery then not only would he be helping Miles but he’d be able to experience the pressures at first hand.

      He’d decided to talk to Miles and Grace about it that evening, but now he could see how pointless it would be. Although he was confident that Miles would agree to his proposal, Grace certainly wouldn’t. She’d probably see it as a slight on the way they ran the practice and the last thing Harry wanted was to create a rift between the two partners. All things considered, it might be better if he told Miles that he’d changed his mind.

      ‘Can you phone for an ambulance?’

      Grace came rushing back into the room. Harry felt his heart sink when he saw the expression on her face. ‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded as he watched her wrench open a cupboard door.

      ‘It’s Miles. I th-think h-he’s having a heart attack.’

      Her voice caught and she bit her lip. Harry could see that her hands were shaking as she tried to take a syringe out of the box. He hurried across the room and took it from her then looked around.

      ‘Drugs?’

      ‘In that steel cabinet in the corner. Here’s the keys.’

      She handed him a bunch of keys. Harry took them and quickly unlocked the cupboard. ‘You phone for an ambulance while I sort this out,’ he instructed, checking through the vials until he found what he needed.

      ‘Oh, but—’

      ‘For heavens sake, Grace, don’t waste time arguing. Just do it.’

      He didn’t wait to see how she took that: there wasn’t time. He left her in the office and ran along the corridor, cursing under his breath because he’d forgotten to ask her where he would find Miles. Fortunately, there were only three other doors leading off the corridor and he found Miles propped up against the sink unit in the staffroom.

      ‘How’s it going, old man?’ Harry asked, dropping to his knees beside him.

      ‘I’ve had better days,’ Miles muttered, clutching his chest.

      ‘I’ll bet you have.’ Harry quickly rolled up his friend’s shirtsleeve and swabbed his arm then slid the needle into his vein. ‘There. That should ease the pain in a moment or two so let’s take a look at you.’

      He took hold of Miles’s wrist and checked his pulse. It was a little fast but strong enough, and he smiled encouragingly at him. ‘Well, the old ticker’s still working away, you’ll be pleased to hear.’

      ‘Nice to know I’m not dead yet,’ Miles replied with a brave stab at humour.

      ‘Oh, there’s plenty of life in the old dog yet,’ Harry said airily, hoping he wasn’t tempting fate.

      He carried on with his examination, looking for all the usual signs he would expect to find in a case of myocardial infarction, things like shortness of breath, sweating and an absence of colour in the skin. Miles was exhibiting all of those symptoms, worryingly enough, so Harry was relieved when Grace appeared to tell him the ambulance was on its way.

      ‘Good. Hospital’s the best place for you,’ he declared as Grace knelt down beside them. She lent forward to loosen the collar of Miles’s shirt and Harry sucked in his breath when he felt a stab of awareness hit him squarely in the gut as her shoulder brushed against his chest.

      He hastily stood up. The last thing he needed was for his mind to start playing those tricks again. He didn’t fancy Grace any more than she fancied him. The pattern of their relationship had been set years ago and this definitely wasn’t the time to start altering it. He adopted a deliberately neutral expression when she glanced up because he didn’t intend to make the mistake of handing her any ammunition to use against him in the future.

      ‘The ambulance should be here soon but I’m worried they might not be able to find us,’ she explained anxiously. ‘It’s really dark at this end of the village and I’d hate them to miss the turning and drive straight past.’

      ‘I’ll go and wait by the gates so I can flag them down,’ Harry offered, relieved to have something to do. ‘You stay here and look after Miles.’

      ‘Thanks, Harry. That would be a real help. I appreciate it.’

      It was the first time Harry could remember her ever speaking to him with any warmth in her voice. As he left the kitchen, he found himself marvelling at the effect it’d had. He wanted to leap up and punch the air as though he’d scored a major victory, although he had no idea why. Grace had merely treated him on a par with everyone else. She’d spoken to him as a normal human being instead of as her worst enemy. Why that should be a cause for celebration, he couldn’t imagine.

      He left the surgery and headed down the drive. It was a bitterly cold night and his overcoat was still hanging on the back of the consulting-room door, but he never noticed the discomfort. His head seemed to be whirling, thoughts spinning around inside it like the bits of coloured glass whizzing about inside that kaleidoscope he’d had as a kid. One thought suddenly caught and took shape.

      Sparring with Grace had been a lot of fun, but what would it be like if they could talk to each other and discover all the things they had in common?

      The idea dissolved before he could attempt to deal with it and another took its place.

      And if they did achieve a degree of harmony, then wouldn’t it be a shame to