The Apple Tree

.

The Apple Tree

Lynette Sofras

Published by Lynette Sofras at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Lynette Sofras

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover Art by Alexander Sofras

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Although actual locations are mentioned, these are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Similarities of characters or names used within to any person - past, present or future – are coincidental.

Previously published in the United States of America by Prism Book Groups (formerly Inspired Romance Novels) in 2011

ISBN-978-0-9847645-3-2

Contact Information

http//www.lynettesofras.com

Chapter One

Julie? Juliet Somerville. I don't believe it. Is it actually you?

Julie had been busy dodging the lunchtime crowds but halted at the hearty exclamation and firm hand grasping her elbow. The force of this wheeled her bodily towards the voice. Impatient pedestrians, forced to stop in their tracks before sidestepping the pair, clucked their disapproval. She blinked at her assailant as recognition dawned.

Robert? What a lovely surprise.

Robert returned her smile and Julie scanned his face, searching for the inevitable changes etched by the passage of time.

What a blast from the past, as they say. He tilted his head to one side. How many years has it been?

She laughed. I don't know. Five or six, I suppose. It's so nice to see you, Robert. How are you?

Five or six? Closer to eight I should say. We must celebrate… you're not too busy, I hope?

Not at all. Just idling. I'd like that.

He took her arm in a brotherly fashion and led her to the nearby Crown Inn. Now let me think, he began after procuring drinks and settling himself beside her on the claret-coloured banquette, new to the Crown since Julie's last visit. The last time I saw you would be when you went up to university. I haven't seen Lizzie in almost as long, although I hear she's doing okay for herself.

Yes, Julie conceded, although he was wrong about the date. They'd met again the following year, at her father's funeral, but perhaps Robert was being tactful, or his memory selective. Liz has just been appointed as consultant at the hospital. Father would have been so proud of her.

Yes I'm sure. And of you too no doubt. Where are you working now?

I'm not at the moment. I suppose I'm what actors like to call 'resting'. But never mind that. Tell me about yourself, she urged, eager to change the subject.

Me? I'm doing well, thanks. I have my own garden centre now, down on Longshore Road, and the business is doing pretty well. Robert would have been unable to conceal the note of pride from his voice even if he'd tried. We're doing more and more landscape gardening these days. I have six full time staff and several part-timers. You must come and see the place, now you're home.

Of course I will, she assured him. And are you married?

He paused, replacing his drink on the table and eyeing it for a moment before replying. I was, yes. I married Linda Henderson—I don't think you knew her. But she died. He uttered this last statement with the brutal simplicity of someone who still found the subject acutely painful.

Oh, how awful. I'm so sorry. Can you... I mean, would you rather not...?

I don't mind talking about it. It was quite a while back, you know, over four years now. A traffic accident... she was killed instantly... and she was... we were... He gave a little cough to clear the thickness in his throat and took a small sip of his beer. She was pregnant at the time, so we lost the baby, too.

Julie gasped and stared at him.

It was bad at first, as you can imagine. We'd only been married eighteen months. I suppose I fell apart a bit, but time and good friends have helped. And the work, too; I couldn't have managed without that.

Poor Robert. She'd known him for as long as she could remember. They'd been neighbours and he and her older sister, Liz were school friends. He always seemed to be present, somewhere in the backdrop of her childhood memories, always smiling, always cheerful. Good old Robert. To imagine him 'falling apart', in pain and suffering while she got on with her own life somewhere else in the world, was difficult. No stranger to the anguish of death, she might have done something useful for once in her little life if she'd known. A tear formed in the corner of her eye and spilled onto her cheek, but whether this was for Robert or herself, she did not try to analyse.

Robert, whose remaining speech had gone unheard by Julie, evidently saw the tear and jumped to his own rapid conclusions.

Don't cry, little Julie. As I said, I've made peace with it now. I'm over it. Scout's honour. And like a good scout, he drew a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the tear, before handing the square of cloth to Julie. She looked at it and then at him.

He was so transparent. Her tears must have touched his simple vanity. Robert had always believed her to be too soft and vulnerable for the tough world of medicine and had told her as much years ago. He'd also said it saddened him to see her succumbing to the wishes of her father and sister. Of course, she'd been young and naïve enough to believe that just wanting something hard enough would guarantee success and succeed in setting the whole world to rights.

Come on, now, this is supposed to be a celebration. Tell me about your life. Has some lucky, handsome doctor snapped you up, yet?

Julie dabbed at her face with the soft handkerchief. What percentage of men still carried handkerchiefs? Was it the last sign of a true gentleman or just a sign that Robert had never quite made the transition into the twenty-first century? She grimaced inwardly at her frivolous thoughts and shook her head, so Robert might be forgiven for reading this gesture as a response in the negative to his question.

No, I thought not, too busy forging a name for yourself in medical history, just like Lizzie, eh? he said.

Julie grimaced. How typical of him to assume she should follow in her sister's successful footsteps. Elizabeth had never professed any interest in marriage, being, in a sense, married to her busy career. But she was in no mood to discuss the complexities of her failed marriage and aborted career and accepted his easy dismissal of the subject with good grace and without contradiction.

She suppressed a tiny pang of guilt, her medical training making her aware this behavioural trait was fast becoming a habit. It mimicked an early form of denial, this taking refuge behind the mistaken assumptions of others rather than setting things to right by explaining the truth. Psychologists or behaviourists would label it a weakness. She preferred to view it as the easiest way out of a tricky confrontation. But a nagging guilt pricked her conscience, nevertheless. Characteristic or weakness, she had to acknowledge that old friends always deserved the truth.

I'm so sorry about your wife. I wish I'd known. But then, Liz never tells me anything. She's so cut off from the world by her work and research, and now this new clinic—she might as well be on another planet.

That's understandable. Liz is a very selfless woman, she always was.

Robert's understanding almost made him sound pompous. His curious choice of adjective bemused her. Selfless? What did that mean? The opposite of selfish? Hardly, not Liz. Yet it was a curiously apt word to describe her older sister who, at thirty-five and a woman of striking good looks, had doubtless never paused longer than three seconds in front of a mirror to consider herself. Julie always thought that if anyone asked Elizabeth to give a physical description of herself, she probably wouldn't even be able to describe the colour of her own eyes with any accuracy. Her career occupied her far too much to allow time for mirror-gazing. She was the Mother Theresa of medicine, or cardiology, to be more precise. Mother Elizabeth. Saint Elizabeth...

So you must come to dinner and meet her, Robert implored, gazing earnestly into Julie's face as she returned to the present with a guilty jolt. So engrossed in her musings about her sister, she'd caught nothing but the tail-end of his speech.

Yes, of course. She agreed then worried about sounding too eager. I mean thanks. I should like that very much.

Excellent. I know you and Sonya will like each other. Shall we say Thursday, then? About eight?

Yes, that's fine. Who might Sonya be and what else had Robert said? She couldn't very well ask him to repeat himself.

You're staying with Liz, I presume? Are you home for good? You've barely told me anything about yourself, he reproached with a sheepish smile, so typical of people who tended to monopolise conversations.

I have no definite plans at the moment. Yes, I'm at home with Liz for now. I've been living and working in London, but I spent the last year in Saudi Arabia.

Saudi? Good grief! He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Working?

Well, yes... but I was pretty miserable there. I'm just relieved to be home again, she added quickly, hoping that he wouldn't pursue the subject further.

He didn't, and they conversed on subjects of a far more general nature for a further ten or fifteen minutes until the throaty hum of his mobile phone, vibrating on the table, reminded him of his afternoon meeting and they took their leave of each other.

Until Thursday, then. He handed her a small business card. Addresses, phone numbers, everything you need is on here. Unless you find time to call in at the nursery before then.

Oh, I certainly intend to do that, she assured him, before their final parting. And she meant it.

On the sidewalk outside the Crown Inn, Julie watched Robert's departing back until the purposeful lunchtime crowds swallowed him up. In her current state of lonely wretchedness, she felt his departure acutely. He represented an umbilical link with the 'triple S' of her childhood: safety, security and simplicity. He was a link with her mother and the uncomplicated bliss of childhood; with ponies and poetry, fun and flowers. And on top of those treasures, he had no connection whatever with the more recent past and the confined, suffocating world of medicine that had dominated her life for almost a decade.

After her brief bout of self-indulgent wallowing, Julie continued on her own purposeless way, treading time, trying to get a step ahead of the decisions that threatened to engulf her yet again.

* * * *

Conversation with Elizabeth on any other subject than medicine had always been a trial. Cardiology was her pet subject and with the clinical aspects of the heart, she was in her element, but the emotional vagaries of that organ were beyond her understanding. Liz had always taken an interest in Julie's career, ensuring she never deviated from the central road of medicine onto the rockier path of surgery.

When Julie met and soon afterwards married Simon Gardiner, during her final year of medical school, Liz made clear her concern that he might lure her into the surgical network. But if Simon had tried, he would have faced a spectacular failure. Without his tireless help during her six months' surgical rotation, she wouldn't even have been able to complete her first year. So fundamentally convinced was she that she'd chosen the wrong profession, she would have abandoned her career then, without his support. Since taking a break from both career and husband, those feelings returned more forcibly than ever.

Liz reproached Simon in his absence for his benightedness in marrying Julie too soon and in taking her off to Saudi Arabia so early in her medical career. Liz had never seen eye-to-eye with Simon, doubting his motives and resenting his intrusion from the outset. After all, she was in a far better position to help her sister in her career than some surgeon from the south of England.

At least your year in Saudi Arabia must have allowed you plenty of time to study for the exam, Liz observed, referring to the all-important Membership examination for the Royal College of Physicians.

Julie steeled herself to reply. Actually, Liz, I don't think I shall bother with it.

"Not bother? What on earth do you mean?"

I'm thinking of throwing it in.

"Throwing what in?" Liz demanded, as if they no longer shared the same language.

Julie sighed. Medicine, Liz. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure I've made a terrible mistake. I just don't want to be a doctor.

"Nonsense! You are a doctor. Unless you mean you're back on that silly flirtation with surgery. He's not persuaded you to take up surgery, I hope?"

Julie shook her head. This friendly rivalry between physicians and surgeons and their friendly name-calling had always amused her, though she had never taken sides in the opposing factions. To her mind, they all worked equally for the common good and neither specialty was superior. No, of course not. I mean altogether. Give up medicine completely. I don't want to be a doctor, Liz.

Perhaps for the first time in her life, Julie's sister had no reply. She stared, as if seeing her younger sibling for the first time; as though she might be a weird alien being. After blinking hard for a moment, she recovered herself enough to articulate her thoughts. Are you insane? Okay, so your marriage fails—these things happen—but, Julie, for goodness sake...

Can we discuss this another time? Julie said to avoid, yet again, the detour down the path of failed marriages.

Nonsense. We need to discuss it here and now. What would my poor father say?

"He was my father too. Julie knew that must sound sulky and childish. And I think if he were alive now, I'd be able to make him understand." There has to be someone, somewhere who can understand that I just want out, she ruminated in her wretchedness.

Understand? But he's not here to understand anything, which is why we have a duty to respect his wishes. How could you consider abandoning medicine when that was his dearest wish for you?

Was it? Julie's voice broke. "Are you quite sure it was his wish, Liz? Only sometimes, I wonder why any father would want to put his daughter through such torment. Yes, you heard. I hate medicine. Always have. I hate dealing with human misery, with sickness, pain and fear. And I know I'll never be a good physician."

Liz surveyed her sister at length before replying. I do believe this business with Simon has upset you far more than you led me to understand. You're right, we should postpone this discussion for a week or two. You'll feel different after you've had a good rest.

*

Several weeks passed quietly for Julie as Liz made no attempt to resume the discussion. New text books appeared on her desk at regular intervals, which she idly perused, but her mind absorbed little information. She felt woolly headed and detached from the world of medicine now it no longer had a place in her daily routine. However, it surrounded her and engulfed her. She admitted, though only to herself, that before ever she could put it behind her, she must first confront it.

At last, Liz brought up the subject again. I presume you've entered for the May exam. I'll quiz you tonight, if you like?

Julie had not entered her name for the May examination, nor did she feel equal to a night of 'quizzing' from her sister. Liz, I'm sorry! I haven't been studying. I just can't manage to organise my thoughts properly at the moment. But I promise I'll enter for the November exam. And I'll study. Even as she said the words, she regretted them. She'd merely said what she knew Liz wanted to hear in order to buy a little peace for herself for a few extra weeks.

Mollified, Liz smiled. Of course you can do it if you put your mind to it. Now I think we ought to start thinking about a job for you. Dr Richardson's rotation is coming up soon. It's obvious he'd prefer someone with at least a passing interesting in endocrinology, but I think I might manage to...

No job. Please. I don't want to work just yet. Don't worry about me. Just leave me alone and I'll sort things out for myself. I don't want to be organised any more. Let me do things my way.

But left to her own devices, she failed to sort out anything. She devoted an hour or two of each day to her studies but remained in a constant state of agitation, a fever to be away from her books and out of the house, driving or rambling through the countryside on long solitary treks or wandering the town gazing absently into shop windows. It was on one of these excursions that she'd encountered Robert Ashley.

*

The Thursday of her dinner engagement with Robert and the mysterious Sonya found Julie driving along Longshore Road.

R Ashley

Nursery & Landscape Gardening

Marquee Hire and Container Planting

The sign in buttercup-yellow letters on a green background caught Julie's attention, and she stepped on her brakes to swing her car in between the tall gates and into the broad, semi-circular drive, which afforded ample space for cars. At the centre of the arc squatted a wide, low, glass-fronted building with an abundance of greenery in the windows. To the right of this was a low, rambling structure, boasting on a blue and white sign 'Inside-Outside Marquees' with a second door