Kitabı oku: «Men In Uniform: Mad About The Doctor: Her Little Secret / First Time Lucky? / How To Mend A Broken Heart»

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth — ‘writing’. The third question asked — ‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

CHAPTER ONE

‘AFTER you.’

Alison Carter gave brief thanks as someone stepped aside and she shuffled onto the bus, coffee in hand, and took a seat in her usual spot, halfway down, to the left of the bus and next to the window.

Morning was just peeking in and the sky was full of purples and oranges as the doors hissed closed and the bus made its slow way up the hill. Even though she’d bought a newspaper, till the bus turned the corner Alison did as she always did and stared out at the glorious view—to the energetic joggers on the foreshore, the walkers on the beach, the swimmers in the ocean and out beyond, to where the patient surfers bobbed quietly, waiting for the next good wave.

It was a slice of heaven.

A view that reminded Alison, because sometimes she needed reminding, that she lived in surely the most beautiful part of the world, that she had absolutely nothing to complain about. It was an internal pep talk that she delivered to herself quite often when the travel bug stung—yes, there were other beaches, other worlds to explore, but here was where she belonged and, if you had to be stuck somewhere, then Coogee was a very nice place to be…

Stuck.

Alison closed her eyes for just a second, leant her temple against the window and told herself to stop using that word.

Having recently read an article on positive thinking and the harm of negative self-talk and thoughts, she was resolutely reframing and rephrasing, but she was finding it to be an almost full-time job.

It was a very nice place to be, Alison told herself.

To just be!

As the bus took on its next load of passengers, then commenced its slow turn into the hilly street that would take them from Coogee to Eastern Beaches Hospital where she worked, Alison turned away to concentrate on her newspaper.

Then she saw him.

Craning his neck for a final glimpse of the beach too, it was, Alison was sure, the man who had let her on the bus before himself. The flash of blond hair and pale shirt that she’d glimpsed as she’d turned and briefly thanked him actually belonged to a man more beautiful than any she had ever seen and only then did she recall his English accent, and she was sure, quite sure, that the man she was looking at was the Nick Roberts.

Despite having been on days off from her job as an accident and emergency nurse, Alison had heard all about him from her friends and colleagues. Ellie had told her all about the gorgeous, completely gorgeous new locum registrar, who was filling in in Emergency while the senior registrar, Cort Mason, took some long overdue extended leave. Even Moira had sent her two texts worth of information about the nice surprise she’d found on her late shift one afternoon, warning her that he had to be seen to be believed.

Presuming that it was him, thanks to the hospital grapevine, and because nurses loved to gossip, Alison knew rather a lot about the handsome stranger on her bus. He had been travelling for six months and was doing a two-month stint in Sydney, getting some money together to spend on his prolonged journey home, first to New Zealand and then home to the UK via Asia, and, Ellie had said droolingly, while he was in Sydney, he was staying in Coogee.

It probably wasn’t him, Alison told herself. Coogee was hardly the outback, there were loads of gorgeous men, loads of travellers, yet she was quite sure that it was him, because this man had to be seen to be believed.

Taller than most, he was sitting on a side seat, doing the crossword in the newspaper, and he kept forgetting to tuck his legs in, having to move them every time someone got on or got off. He had on dark grey, linen trousers and a paler grey shirt. And, yes, there were loads of Englishmen staying in Coogee—he could be anyone, but holidaymakers and travellers weren’t usually on the two-minutes-past-six bus. It was, Alison knew, after nearly three years of taking this very route, a fairly regular lot she joined on the bus each morning.

Of course he caught her looking and he gave her a very nice smile, an open, possibly even flirting smile, and all it served to do was annoy Alison as she pulled her eyes away and back to her newspaper. In fact, she wanted to tell him that she’d been looking, not because he was drop dead gorgeous but because she thought she knew who he was.

And if she was right, then he’d be the last person she’d be interested in.

She’d heard all about him from her friends—the string of broken hearts he had left behind on his travels and daredevil attitude in his quest for adventure.

So, instead of thinking about him, Alison, as always, read her horoscope, which was too cryptic for such an early hour, so she turned, as she always did on a Friday, to the travel section, only the sting she so regularly felt became just a touch more inflamed as she read that airfares had come down dramatically. Even if it was too early for cryptic horoscopes the arithmetic was easy—her meticulous savings, combined with the money her father had left her, were enough for a tiny deposit on an even tinier flat or a round-the-world trip and a year or two spent following her heart.

Alison knew what her father would have chosen.

But she knew too what it would do to her mother.

She glanced up again to the man she thought was Nick Roberts. He had given up on his crossword and sat dozing now, and Alison stared, annoyed with a stranger who had been nothing but polite, jealous of a man she had never even met—because if this was Nick Roberts, then he was living her dream.

Maybe he felt her watching, because green eyes suddenly opened and met hers. He had caught her looking again and smiled. Embarrassed, Alison stood as her bus stop approached, and it was either be extremely rude or return his smile as she walked past.

‘Morning,’ Alison said, and then to show him she said morning and smiled at everyone, she said it to someone else who caught her eye as she moved down the bus.

And it had to be him because he was standing up too and this was the hospital bus stop and there certainly couldn’t be two people as lovely as him working there.

They probably weren’t, but Alison felt as if his eyes were on her as she walked through the car park and towards Emergency, and she was rather relieved when her friend and colleague Ellie caught up with her.

‘Nice days off?’ Ellie asked. ‘Any luck with the flat-hunt?’

‘None,’ Alison admitted. ‘Well, there was one flat that I could just about afford but it needs a kitchen.’

‘You could live without a nice kitchen for a while,’ Ellie pointed out.

‘There’s a hole in the side wall where the kitchen burnt down.’ Alison managed a wry laugh as she recalled the viewing, the initial optimism as she’d walked through the small but liveable lounge, and then the sheer frustration as the renovator’s delight that she’d thought she had found had turned out to be uninhabitable. ‘It’s impossible…’ Alison carried on, but she’d lost her audience because Dr Long Legs had caught up, and Ellie, who never missed an opportunity to flirt, called over to him and he fell in step beside them.

‘This is Alison. Alison, this is Nick,’ Ellie said, and none-too-discreetly gave her friend a nudge that said he was the Nick. ‘He’s with us for a couple of months.’

‘Hi, Nick,’ Alison said, and then to salvage herself, she gave him a smile. ‘We met on the bus.’

‘We did.’

‘Anyone new tends to stand out—it’s a pretty regular lot on the six a.m.,’ Alison added, just to make it clear why she’d noticed him!

‘Alison’s flat-hunting,’ Ellie said.

‘Shoebox-hunting,’ Alison corrected.

At twenty-four it was high past the time when she should have left home. Yes, most of her friends still lived at home and had no intention of leaving in a rush, but her friends didn’t have Rose as a mother, who insisted on a text if she was going to be ten minutes late, and as for staying out for the night—well, for the stress it caused her mother it was easier just to go home.

Alison had moved out at eighteen to share a house with some other nursing students but at the end of her training, just as she’d been about to set off for a year of travel that her mother had pleaded she didn’t take, her brother and father had died in an accident. Of course, she had moved straight back home, but though it had seemed right and necessary at the time, three years on Alison was beginning to wonder if her being there was actually hindering her mother from moving on. House-sharing no longer appealed and so the rather fruitless search for her own place had commenced.

‘There are a couple of places I’ve seen that are nice and in my price range,’ Alison sighed, ‘but they’re miles from the beach.’

‘You’re a nurse…’ Ellie laughed. ‘You can’t afford bay views.’

‘I don’t need a view,’ Alison grumbled, ‘but walking distance to the beach at least…’ She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she was so used to having the beach a five-minute walk away that it was going to be harder to give up than coffee.

‘I’m on Alison’s side.’ Nick joined right in with the conversation. ‘I’m flat-sitting for a couple I know while they’re back in the UK.’ He told her the location and Alison let out a low whistle because anything in that street was stunning. ‘It’s pretty spectacular. I’ve never been a beach person, but I’m walking there every morning or evening—and sitting on the balcony at night…’

‘It’s not just the view, though,’ Alison said. They were walking through Emergency now. ‘It’s just…’ She didn’t really know how to explain it. It wasn’t just the beach either—it was her walks on the cliffs, her coffee from the same kiosk in the morning, her cherry and ricotta strudel at her favourite café. She didn’t want to leave it, her mother certainly didn’t want her to leave either, but, unless she was going to live at home for ever, unless she was going to be home by midnight every night or constantly account for her movements, she wanted somewhere close enough to home but far enough to live her own life.

‘I’m going to get a drink before…’ He gave her a smile as they reached the female change rooms. ‘I look forward to working with you.’

‘Told you!’ Ellie breathed as they closed the doors. ‘I told you, didn’t I?’

‘You did,’ Alison agreed, tying up her long brown hair and pulling on her lanyard. ‘Have you got my stethoscope?’

‘That’s all that you’ve got to say?’

‘Ellie, yes, you did tell me and, yes, for once you haven’t exaggerated. He’s completely stunning, but right now I need my stethoscope back.’ She certainly didn’t need to be dwelling on the gorgeous Nick Roberts who was there for just a few weeks and already had every woman completely under his spell.

‘Here.’ Ellie handed back the stethoscope she had yet again borrowed. ‘Have a look at him on Facebook—there’s one of him bungee-jumping and he’s upside down and his T-shirt’s round his neck…’ Ellie grinned as Alison rolled her eyes. ‘There’s no harm in looking.’

Ellie raced off to the staffroom, ready to catch up on all the gossip, and for a moment Alison paused, catching sight of her reflection—brown hair, serious brown eyes, neat figure, smart navy pants and white top. Her image just screamed sensible. Too sensible by far for the likes of Nick. Yes, he was a fine specimen and all that, but he also knew it and Alison was determined not to give him the satisfaction of joining his rather large throng of admirers.

He was sitting in the staffroom as he had on the bus, with his long legs sprawled out, drinking a large mug of tea and leading the conversation as if he’d been there for years instead of one week, regaling them all with his exploits—the highlight a motorbike ride through the outback—which did nothing to impress Alison. In fact, the very thought made her shudder and prompted a question.

‘How is that guy from last week?’ Alison turned to Ellie. ‘Did you follow him up?’

‘What one?’

‘Just as I went off last Sunday—the young guy on the motorbike?’ And then she stopped, realising it sounded rude, perhaps a touch inappropriate given Nick’s subject matter, though she hadn’t meant it to. Nick had just reminded her to ask.

‘We didn’t have any ICU beds,’ one of the other staff answered, ‘so he was transferred.’

‘Thanks,’ Alison said, looking up at the clock, and so did everyone else, all heading out for handover.

She really didn’t want to like him.

He unsettled her for reasons she didn’t want to examine and she hoped he was horrible to work with—arrogant, or dismissive with the patients. Unfortunately, he was lovely.

‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time,’ she heard him say to some young surfer who had cut his arm on the rocks. Nick was stitching as Alison came in to give the young man his tetanus shot. ‘I want to cram in as much as I can while I’m here.’

‘Come down in the morning,’ surfer boy said. ‘I’ll give you some tips.’

‘Didn’t I just tell you to keep the wound clean and dry? ‘Nick admonished, and then grinned. ‘I guess salt water’s good for it, though. I’ll look forward to it.’

‘You’re going surfing with him?’ Alison blinked.

‘He lives near me and who better to teach me than a local?’ Nick said. ‘Do you?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Surf.’

Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Because I’m Australian?’

‘No,’ he said slowly, those green eyes meeting hers. ‘Because you want to.’ And she stood there for a moment, felt her cheeks darken, felt for just a moment as if he was looking at her, not staid, sensible Alison but the woman she had once been, or rather the woman she had almost become, the woman who was in there, hiding.

‘If I wanted to, I would,’ Alison replied, and somehow, despite the wobble in her soul, her voice was even. ‘I’ve got a beach on my doorstep after all.’

‘I guess,’ Nick said, but she could almost hear his tongue in his cheek. ‘I’ll let you know what it’s like.’

His assumption irritated her, perhaps more than it should have, but she wasn’t going to dwell on it. She’d save a suitable come-back for later—perhaps this time tomorrow morning when she was stitching his forehead after his board hit him, Alison thought, taking the next patient card from the pile.

‘Louise Haversham?’ Alison called out to the waiting room, and when there was no answer she called the name again.

‘Two minutes!’ came the answer, a pretty blonde holding up her hand at Alison’s interruption and carrying on her conversation on her phone, but perhaps realising that Alison was about to call the next name on the list she concluded her call and walked with Alison to a cubicle.

‘How long have you had toothache for?’ Alison asked, checking Louise’s temperature and noting it on her card.

‘Well, it’s been niggling for a couple of weeks but it woke me up at four and I couldn’t get back to sleep.’

‘Have you seen your dentist?’ Alison asked, and Louise shook her head.

‘I’ve been too busy—I’m working two jobs.’ She glanced up at the clock. ‘How long will the doctor be? I’m supposed to be at work at nine.’

Then Alison had better hurry the doctor along!

‘Who’s next?’ Nick asked cheerfully. ‘A nice motorbike crash, perhaps?’ He winked, just to show her he’d heard her in the staffroom.

‘I’m saving the good stuff for later,’ Alison said. ‘I’ve got a toothache.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

She rolled her eyes at the very old joke, but it did make her smile just a little bit and he was so easy to talk to, because somewhere between the work station and Cubicle Five she’d told him that she was going to the dentist herself next week. He opened the curtain where the very pretty blonde with a sore tooth that couldn’t possibly wait till nine a.m. for a dentist was no longer chatting on her phone but cupping her jaw in her hand and looking an absolute picture of misery.

‘Good morning.’ He introduced himself and Louise introduced herself and managed, Alison noted, despite her agony, to perk up just a touch and give him a very brave smile.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She was far nicer to Nick than she had been to Alison. ‘I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I haven’t slept all night…’

‘Not at all. Dental pain’s awful,’ Nick said. Warning her he wasn’t a dentist, he first had a feel of her jaw before he looked in her mouth, then long brown fingers examined her jaw again and felt around her neck. ‘What was her temperature?’ Nick asked, and Alison told him it was normal. ‘There’s no swelling. Still, I think we should give you something for the pain and a poultice for the tooth, but you really do need to see your dentist.’ He turned round. ‘Alison, do we have any oil of cloves?’

Right at the back of the treatment cupboard.

‘Busy?’ her friend Moira asked minutes later as she watched Alison curiously.

‘Frantic!’ She rolled her eyes to show that she wasn’t in the least. ‘I’m making an oil-of-cloves poultice,’ Alison said, her own teeth slightly gritted.

‘A what?’ Moira frowned. ‘What’s that?’

‘Some old English treatment. Actually, I remember my mum giving this to me once. I’ve never been asked for it.’

‘Nick?’ Moira checked and gave a little sigh. ‘He asked me for some gentian violet yesterday.’ She held up her palms to show the evidence. ‘He dishes out the TLC, wish he’d dish some out in my direction!’ Moira was Irish, just passing through Coogee too as she nursed and travelled her way around the world. She was fun and flirty and just…fun!

‘Is he always so nice to everyone? It’s like a social club in Section B.’

‘Always,’ Moira said cheerfully.

Returning to Cubicle Five, Alison wondered if he’d still be so nice when the place was frantic, but for now he was taking his time with his patient.

‘Okay, Louise, I’ve given you a note for the dentist—you need to get that seen to this morning.’

Louise, once she’d bitten down on her cotton bud soaked in oil of cloves, managed to rally enough to tell him the name of the bar she worked at in the city, and that she was on at the weekend if he wanted to stop by for a drink on the house.

‘I’m working…’ Nick grinned ‘…but that’s terribly kind of you.’

‘He’s worth getting toothache for,’ Louise commented as he swept out and only the fresh scent of him lingered. They shared a little smile. ‘If I suddenly come over all dizzy, will you call him back for me?’

‘I’ll get Amy, the other registrar.’ Alison winked. ‘She’s good with dizzy females.’

‘Shame.’

Nick changed the atmosphere of the place—he seemed delighted to be there, nothing was too trivial and nothing major unnerved him, as Alison found out when the husband of a swollen-ankle case suddenly complained of chest pain and started to pass out. Still Nick remained unruffled, breaking the gentleman’s fall as Alison quickly wheeled out his wife, pressing the emergency bell and collecting the crash trolley.

By the time she returned, about twenty seconds later, the man had gone into full arrest and between them they had him clipped to the portable monitor, with Alison commencing cardiac massage even before help had arrived.

‘Let’s get him down to Resus.’ Amy, the emergency registrar, called for a trolley, but Nick thought otherwise.

‘Let’s just keep going here.’ It was a tiny override, or just a difference of opinion—nothing really—but when Amy, who easily took offence, simply nodded and they all just carried on working on the man on the cubicle floor, Alison realised the respect he had garnered in the short while he had been here.

Pads on, Nick shocked him, and before the crash team had arrived, the poor man was back in sinus rhythm and starting to come round.

‘It’s okay, sir…’ Nick’s was absolutely the voice you wanted to come round to. He didn’t talk down to the man and he didn’t scare him as he lay there groaning. ‘You’re doing fine—your heart went into an irregular rhythm but it’s beating normally now.’ He smiled up to Amy. ‘Okay, let’s get him on a trolley and down to you guys. I’ll go and speak with his wife.’

‘What was he in for?’ Amy asked.

‘He’s here with his wife, Doreen,’ Nick explained. ‘She’s got an ankle injury.’

Having seen what was going on, Libby, the receptionist, had taken Doreen to an interview room and taken the husband’s details from the shaken woman. After quickly writing his notes and checking the new patient’s name, Nick walked down to the interview room with Alison.

He was very thorough, first checking her husband’s details and assuming nothing—that Ernest was, in fact, her husband and finding out if she had contacted anyone. Then Nick got to the point, explaining that it would appear Ernest had had a heart attack.

‘It probably doesn’t feel it now, but your husband is an extremely lucky man—he could not have been in a better place when this happened.’

‘Will he be okay?’

‘We certainly hope so. He’s conscious, the cardiologists will be running some tests now, but certainly the next twenty-four hours will be critical. I’m going to go and speak with my colleagues now and find out some more for you. I suggest you ring your son and get some family here to support you.’ He stood and shook her hand. ‘And I’ll be back soon to take a good look at your ankle.’

He was a complete and utter pleasure to work with, to be around, so much so that when Alison ducked into the staffroom for a ten-minute break later that morning, she wanted to turn tail and run, because it was just him in there and to be alone in his rather dazzling company rather terrified her.

‘What about this…?’

She frowned as he handed her the local newspaper with an advertisement circled—a one-bedroom flat, two streets from the beach, and it wasn’t that expensive. ‘I’ve already seen it,’ Alison admitted. ‘It’s above a pub that has live music six nights a week.’ She sat down next to him. ‘I did seriously think about it, though. Thanks,’ she added. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

‘Can’t help myself,’ Nick admitted. ‘I love looking at real estate—I’ve chosen the one I want…’ And he showed her the stunning apartment he’d circled, with bay views and a balcony as big as the staffroom they were sitting in. ‘Nice to dream.’

And it was, because Alison had circled the very same one in her own local newspaper, had looked it up on the net and taken a virtual tour of the place.

‘You can’t have it because it’s already mine.’

‘It’s a great spot,’ Nick said. ‘I can absolutely see why you don’t want to move away.’

And they got to talking, about she was on late shift tomorrow and she had to squeeze in two flat inspections beforehand, and there was a mixture of both relief and disappointment when he told her he was off for the weekend. Relief that he’d told a little white lie to Louise and the stab of disappointment Alison did her very best to ignore. Instead she told him how she loved to walk on the cliffs on her days off and, strange as it sounded, there was the most beautiful cemetery that he just had to explore, then about the coffee bar that did the ricotta cheese and cherry strudel which she rewarded herself with now and then. Then the intercom buzzed—someone searching for Nick—and Alison realised that her fifteen-minute break had turned into twenty-five.

‘Told you.’ Ellie smirked when she came round that evening on her way out for the night.

‘Told me what?’ Alison said, letting her in. There was no way she’d give Ellie so much as a hint that he’d won her over too, but Ellie was having none of it. Once she’d said hi to Rose, and chatted for a few minutes about an engagement present for a friend’s party the following week, she asked to go on the computer.

‘There!’ Ellie was already a friend of his on Facebook—along with four hundred and thirty-seven others—and, yes, hanging upside down on a rope, his stomach looked lovely with his T-shirt around his neck. Alison did note that his status was single, and held her breath as she read about his crazy adventures—whitewater rafting, rock-climbing, swimming in waterholes. And she didn’t care if there were only freshwater crocodiles there, he was dangerous and reckless and everything she didn’t want.

Great day at work—I love this place, Nick suddenly updated his status, and Alison blinked.

She thought of the toothaches and grumbles and moans down in section B and the drama with Ernest, which was pretty much routine in Emergency—it had been an okay day, even a good day perhaps, but hardly great.

Except, somehow he’d made it so.

Out to sample local delights, he added, and Alison rather hoped it wasn’t Louise.

Ellie happily scrolled through what was just loads of chatter and comments from friends, and about a thousand photos.

‘He broke off his engagement before he came here,’ Ellie said knowledgeably.

‘How do you know?’

‘You can find out anything on this. Well, I’m not sure he broke it off, but I think so, and look…’ Ellie was a machine and in no time at all had located photos of the once happy couple, but Alison had better things to do than fill her head with Nick.

‘Come out with us,’ Ellie pushed. ‘Get some dinner…listen to a band.’

And Alison was about to again say no, she had to be up early for flat inspections and then work a late shift tomorrow, as Rose pointed out.

‘There are a few of us meeting up.’ Ellie smiled. ‘You never know who’ll be there.’

Which was a very good reason to decline, a very good reason to stay away, but instead of declining Alison gave her mum a smile.

‘I’ll be fine for tomorrow.’ She tried not to notice her mother’s pursed lips as she left Ellie on the computer and headed to her room, straightening her already straight hair till it looked a little more done and pulling through some hair gloss, then putting on make-up as she changed from her shorts and T-shirt into something a little more dressy, but not too much. She checked her reflection in the mirror and tried to tone down the blusher on her cheeks before realising it was her own complexion.

‘If you’re going to be out late…’ Rose came to her door.

‘I’m not going to be late,’ Alison said and then, unusually, she qualified a touch. ‘But if I am, I’ll give you a call.’

‘You can’t really stay out too long…’ Rose didn’t add the unspoken You’ve got work…

Alison didn’t want to argue, she didn’t want to point out again that she was twenty-four, that Ellie was on an early shift tomorrow and was still going out—that she had a life, that she wanted to live it.

Instead she crammed her ATM card, her mobile, some cash and her keys into a tiny bag and only when she had bitten back a smart retort did she look up.

‘I’ll let you know if I’m going to be late.’ She gave her mum a kiss on the cheek and said goodnight then headed out to the cool, dark street and along to the bar, trying to join in with Ellie’s easy chatter, but it was hard to be light-hearted when her mother made it such an effort to just go out. As she stepped into the bar, however, it wasn’t her mother’s veiled warning or an excess of blusher that had her cheeks pinking up again.

There was Moira and a few others, even Amy the registrar was sitting at the heavy wooden table. Making room for Ellie and Alison to join them, they ordered pizza. It wasn’t at all unusual for the emergency crew to go out on a Friday night and, yes, Coogee was lovely and this bar was one hospital staff often frequented. It was just a rather good turnout from Emergency and Alison knew why—because coming back from the bar, balancing a jug of beer and some glasses with a bottle of water tucked under his arm, was the reason.

‘Hey!’ Nick gave her a smile and gave Ellie one too. This was her local, Alison told herself as she took a seat and glanced through the menu. She didn’t just work nearby, she lived here, so more than anyone she had good reason to be there.

Except, Alison silently admitted, he was the real one.

CHAPTER TWO

EMERGENCY staff the world over knew how to have a good time when they were out, as Nick pointed out. Even the rather aloof Amy was letting her hair down and had had a dance, when she wasn’t monopolising Nick.

‘It’s like a home from home!’ Nick said to Alison as the table got louder and louder. ‘Not that I regularly joined the Friday night out.’

‘Too senior?’ Alison asked.

‘Too sombre,’ Nick said, at least that was what she thought he said, because the music was really loud. ‘Do you come here often?’

Alison grinned as, tongue in cheek, he delivered the cheesy line with a smile. ‘I live five minutes away, but, no, not that often,’ she admitted, because, well, it was true. ‘I like the cafés and restaurants.’ She didn’t get to finish as Moira tottered over, a little the worse for wear, and tugged at Nick to go and dance. Alison didn’t await his response, instead she disappeared through the beer garden and to the loo, where she stood for an inordinately long time, fiddling with her hair. Not that it made any difference but, ridiculously, she felt safer in there.

She could hear the thud-thud-thud of the band through the wall and it matched the thud-thud-thud of her heart, because she’d never, not once, found someone so instantly attractive. Oh, she knew she wasn’t the only one, yet he was the only one—the only one who just on sight triggered something, just on voice confirmed it, just on scent…

‘Moira…’ Nick peeled the nurse’s arm from around his neck with a smile. He was actually very good at letting a girl down gently, he’d had plenty of practice and though he’d enjoyed his holiday to date, the fun stopped when he started work—that sort of fun anyway. He took his work seriously, commanded respect and that was rather hard to come by the morning after a reckless night before. ‘I don’t dance.’

He didn’t flee to the toilets like Alison had, but he made his way there, a little annoyed that he had come, but Amy had suggested it and it had seemed a bit rude to say no. He had sensed things were getting a little out of hand and had been about to head off, but had got talking to Alison and somehow forgotten that he was supposed to be heading for home.

And there she was, walking toward him right now, and here too was the very reason he hadn’t headed for home when he should have.

‘Hey.’ He smiled down at her and she stopped walking. They stood in the beer garden amidst the noise and the chatter.

‘I thought you were dancing.’

‘Not for me.’ He gave her a smile, but it was a wry one, a lying one, a strained one, because as the music tipped into something a little slower, he would at that very moment have danced, would have loved to do just that, because somehow she exceeded his limits, somehow he knew she could break his self-imposed rule, because all of a sudden work didn’t matter.

‘I’m just about to head off,’ Alison admitted, because even if her stilettos seemed glued to the floor her heart was telling her to run.

‘Do you want to go somewhere?’ Nick’s mouth said the words, though his brain insisted he shouldn’t. ‘Just us.’ And Alison’s eyes jerked down instead of up. Down to his forearm, to the blond hairs on it, to long-fingered hands that she wanted to wrap around hers. And maybe it was the overhead gas heaters in the beer garden, but the air was hot and her mind wasn’t clear because with the pulse of the music and the laughter from beyond, it would, at that moment, have been so very easy to just be twenty-four.

To just be.

And, of course, just a moment later she recalled why she couldn’t just be.

Alison looked up then to green eyes that awaited her response, that could never guess the inner turmoil inside her, who assumed, that for Alison, it was as easy as making a decision and grabbing her bag.

She shook her head and with good reason. Coogee was teeming with holidaymakers, with good-looking, testosterone-laden, ‘here for a good time not a long time’ males, and even if he was gorgeous, Nick could never be any different.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Hey, Nick!’ Moira’s radar located them and rather unsteadily she teetered towards them. ‘We’re heading into town…’

Alison didn’t wait to see if Nick was joining them. Instead she said goodnight, gathered her bag and walked, not along the street but along a beach that was dotted with small groups and some couples, and it was a relief to be out of there and a relief to be alone.

He was dangerous.

At least, he was to someone like her.

He had been flirting—oh, not anything major, but his glorious attention had homed in on her, more than a touch. She was quite sure that Nick did want to get to know her a little better—which, to Alison, just seemed pointless. He’d be gone in a few weeks, he was just there for some fun, which Alison didn’t readily do.

Why, she asked herself as she walked along the beach she knew and loved, couldn’t she be like Ellie, or Moira—just out there having fun, without worrying about tomorrow?

Her phone buzzed in her bag and she didn’t need to check it to know it was from her mother. It was fifteen minutes after midnight after all.

‘I just texted you!’ Rose said as she walked in the door. ‘I just wanted to know if you were going to be late.’

‘I said I’d call if I was.’

‘Well, it is after midnight.’

‘Well, it is after midnight.’ For a shadow of a second, she could almost hear Tim’s voice, could almost picture her brother standing right where she was in the kitchen, good-naturedly teasing Rose when he came in late at night and Rose complained.

Except there had been Dad then to argue his case for him and, anyway, Tim had a way to him that always won their mum around.

God, but she missed him.

And her father too.

Missed, not just the people but the family they had been then, the security the others had provided, unnoticed at the time, the certainty they were there for each other, which had all been ripped away. So instead of a smart retort Alison looked instead at the fear in her mother’s eyes and apologised for not texting and had a cup of tea and a chat with her mum, till Rose headed off for bed.

Then later, alone, when surely all her friends were still out, she went on the computer and checked her social network profile. She had one friend request and, yes, it was from Nick. He must befriend everyone, Alison decided, but she did click on his name, hoping for another little peek at his profile, except that, apart from his photo, all the rest of the photos and information were private.

She went to accept his friend request and for a moment her finger hovered, then she chose to ignore it.

Very deliberately she ignored it, even if they did have eighteen mutual friends between them.

It was one a.m. on a Saturday after all.

A girl had some pride.

CHAPTER THREE

‘ARE you okay?’

They were waiting for a multi-trauma at eight a.m. on Monday morning. The sky was black with a storm and the roads like ice after a long dry spell. Alison was in Resus this morning and so too was Nick. She’d said good morning at the bus stop, then moved to her regular seat. Ignored him in the staffroom that morning, her head buried in the crossword, but now they stood on opposite sides of the trauma bed, all set up and gowned up, waiting for the patients to arrive, though they were taking longer to get there than anticipated and Alison was quiet.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Look, about the other night…’

‘What about the other night?’ She frowned over her mask to him.

‘I got waylaid by Moira and then you’d gone.’

‘I’m not even thinking about that—I just hate getting kids in.’

Yes, it happened day in and day out, but some days you just hated it so and Nick, cool, confident Nick, actually coloured up a little bit, because for once, with a woman, it wasn’t about him. He’d awoken slightly disconcerted on Saturday, and had spent the rest of the day trying ignore a niggle. He’d swum, walked for a while, but had ended up at a cemetery that was, strange as it might sound, both fascinating and beautiful, and then back to the flat, where that niggle had developed a name as he’d checked his social network profile and, no, she hadn’t responded to that request either.

‘ETA five minutes!’ Sheila called, and he watched as Alison blinked twice.

‘They’re taking ages.’

‘Rush-hour.’

‘It’s still ages.’

‘It might not be that bad,’ Nick said. ‘We’re set up for everything; we’ll worry, if we need to, when they get here.’

It was actually very good advice and Alison gave a thin smile. ‘Is that what you do?’

‘I try to,’ Nick replied. ‘Right now I’m trying to work out seven down—begins with L, ends in E, recurring.’

‘Life,’ Alison said, and he grinned. ‘I’m stuck on it too.’

‘How’s the flat-hunting?’ he asked. ‘Any luck?’

And she was about to shrug, to get back to worrying about the family that was coming in, but Nick was right. Until they arrived there was no point, so instead she followed his lead.

‘Actually, yes!’ She’d sworn not to get her hopes up, not to say a word, but she was so delighted she couldn’t help herself. ‘I got a phone call from a real estate agent about a flat, and though it’s not officially on the market yet, he’s arranging an inspection. It’s within my price range and they want a quick sale…It all sounds a bit too good to be true.’

‘It might be your time for some good luck.’

‘How was the rest of your weekend?’ Alison asked, because, well, she was interested and she wanted to get back to normal with him and he was so easy to talk to. ‘Any surfing?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t quite call it surfing, but I did manage to get up and stay up for about half a second. It was great…’ He stopped in mid-sentence as a siren blared the first ambulance’s arrival. ‘Okay,’ Nick said, ‘now we can get back to worrying.’

Her name was Polly and she was seven and petrified and on a trauma board, her head strapped down. She was so scared that she wasn’t even crying.

‘Hi, there, Polly.’ Nick smiled down at her. ‘I’m Nick, I’m a doctor. You’re having a rotten morning, aren’t you?’ He spoke reassuringly to her as he rapidly examined her while Alison transferred the oxygen tubes. The paramedics had started an IV and were feeding information as they worked on. Alison was cutting off Polly’s school uniform, attaching her to monitors and getting her observations.

‘Where’s my mum?’ Her little teeth were chattering, just one thing on her mind, and Alison glanced over at Todd, the paramedic, who nodded his head towards the door and Alison went over.

‘She’s being cut out of the car,’ Todd explained. ‘She’s conscious, but she’s got some nasty cuts and is really agitated. She should be in soon. The police are trying to get hold of Dad.’

‘Thanks,’ Alison said, but nothing else, and headed back to Polly. ‘Mum will be coming in soon, and we’re getting hold of Dad, but right now we need to make sure you’re okay.’

Amazingly she appeared to be.

There were some minor cuts and bruises, but she was neurologically sound and her abdomen was soft and nontender. After a thorough examination and some cervical spine films, they peeled off the board and beneath it was a little girl who was a bit calmer, but still shaky, asking after her mum and very worried about her dad.

‘He’s got an interview.’ Now Polly did start crying.

‘Hey,’ Nick said, ‘don’t worry about that. Your dad will be so relieved that you’re okay.’ Except the little girl could not be consoled.

‘Can I move her over to a cubicle?’ Alison checked with Nick, and then spoke away from Polly. ‘Mum’s about to arrive…’

‘Sure, just…’ He didn’t finish, and Alison didn’t wait to find out or to be told—yes, she would keep a very close eye on Polly.

She could see Todd hanging around, taking ages to sort out the blankets, and she deliberately ignored him. Alison didn’t like him. He was good at his job and everything but he had asked her out a few times and didn’t know how to take no for an answer. He’d also been out with half the department, and expected Alison to follow suit.

‘Hey, Alison.’ Todd came over. ‘How is she?’

‘Fine,’ Alison answered. ‘We’re just about to move her out of Resus.’

‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ came her reply, but she didn’t elaborate, actually refusing to speak to him about anything other than work.

She was glad she had moved Polly out, though her mum’s sobs still reached the cubicle and after rechecking the little girl’s obs, Alison didn’t try to placate her. ‘I’ll go and find out how she is.’

The police were outside in the corridor and they brought Alison up to speed on things before she went in. Ellie and Sheila, the unit manager, were helping Nick and Alison observed for a moment before asking how she was doing.

‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration that needs to go straight to Theatre,’ Ellie said. ‘She’s hysterical. Nick’s told her that her little girl’s okay.’

‘This is the nurse looking after Polly,’ Nick told his patient, and Alison went over to the distraught woman. ‘Rebecca,’ he added, and Alison nodded.

‘I’m looking after Polly,’ Alison said. ‘She’s doing really well. As soon as you’re more settled you can see her.’

‘David?’

‘Your husband?’ Alison checked. ‘I’ve just spoken to the police and he’s on his way in.’

‘He’ll be so worried.’

‘I’ll look out for him,’ Alison promised. ‘I’ll speak to him the second he arrives and I’ll bring him in to Polly and to you just as soon as I can.’

‘He’ll be—’

‘I’ll look after him,’ Alison said gently. ‘Try not to worry.’

‘Where are they?’ The man, who was chalk-white and looked as if he might pass out any second, needed no introduction. Alison knew this must be the father. A security man was running in behind him, about to tell him to move his car, but Alison dealt with practicalities, got the keys from him and asked for permission for Security to move it. David was really in no state to drive.

‘They’re going to be okay,’ Alison said, and guided him straight to a side room. ‘Let me just talk to you for a moment and then I’ll take you in to see Polly.’ She knew he needed to see his daughter, but in the state he was in, he would just upset Polly more.

‘Polly’s escaped lightly,’ Alison explained. ‘She’s got some cuts and a few bruises across her chest and to her shoulder from the seat belt, but she’s talking and she’s fine.’

‘Rebecca?’

‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration and they’re talking about taking her straight to Theatre. There might be some concussion and they’re going to arrange for a head CT. She’s very distressed, they had to cut her out of the car, but she knows where she is and what’s happened, and she’s very worried about Polly and about you.’

‘Oh, God.’ He bunched his hands by his head and took in some deep breaths. ‘I thought the worst…’

‘Of course you did,’ Alison said gently. ‘We were prepared for the worst too, but they do seem to be relatively okay. I’ll get the doctor to speak to you just as soon as he can.’

‘I don’t think I even said goodbye this morning. I’ve got a job interview today…’ Alison frowned, because she’d heard Polly going on about it. ‘I was so worked up about it, I can’t even remember if I said goodbye…’ And he broke down then and Alison listened and found out that he had lost his job nine months ago, that he had, in fact, had a nervous breakdown and was still struggling to deal with things, but was slowly picking up. And because she listened she heard too that today was a vital day, so much hope had been pinned on it, that this job had meant everything, right up till this point. She could understand now how upset Rebecca would be, not about the job but about her husband’s reaction.

‘Let me take you in to Polly,’ Alison said when he had calmed down. ‘And I’ll let your wife know that you’re here.’

He did really well, he smiled and said all the right things to Polly—that the interview didn’t matter a scrap, just as long as she and her mother were okay, that they would be fine, that they were all going to be fine. Rarely for Alison, she felt a sting of tears at the backs of her eyes and left them to it to go and speak with the wife.

‘Hi, Rebecca.’ Alison came in as Nick and the trauma surgeons looked at the patient’s arm, and though Nick was concentrating, he still heard her speak. ‘Polly’s fine, her dad’s with her—and he’s fine. He really is okay.’ Rebecca started crying and bizarrely for a second it sounded to Nick as if it was the husband who was hurt. ‘I’ve told him that when the surgeons have finished looking at your arm I’ll bring him in to see you. Rebecca, he’s holding up really well.’ And the arm Nick was holding down for the surgeons to assess relaxed just a little bit beneath his fingers.

‘David’s told me all that’s been going on,’ Alison continued, ‘and, honestly, now that he knows you two are going to be okay, he really is fine.’

‘He can’t cope with things,’ Rebecca said, and it was the first proper conversation she’d managed since her arrival.

‘Not the little things perhaps,’ Alison said, and stroked the poor woman’s cheek. ‘But he’s dealing well with this. Maybe he’s finding out he’s stronger than he thinks.’

‘So much hinges on today…’

‘I know.’ She glanced up at Nick. ‘David had an important job interview today,’ Alison explained, then looked back at the patient. ‘When things are more settled we could ring the company and explain what’s happened.’ She paused and hoped, not wanting to presume but grateful when he stepped in.

‘I’m happy to do that,’ Nick said.

‘That’s good,’ Alison said to Rebecca. ‘It will sound better coming from a doctor.’ And Nick looked down at his patient and saw her close her eyes in relief, felt her body relax and he realised that head CT wasn’t quite so urgent.

‘There’s a lot of stress going on for them,’ Alison murmured to Nick. ‘They really didn’t need this.’

‘Thanks,’ Nick said. He realised he’d learned something, and whatever it was he decided he would process it later.

As Ellie prepared Rebecca for Theatre, knowing what would put his patient’s mind at rest more than any medication, Nick made the phone call Alison had suggested, then returned to tell the couple how it had gone. ‘They were really grateful for you letting them know,’ Nick told David. ‘Especially with all that’s going on. They’ve asked you to ring later in the day or tomorrow if you get a chance to arrange another time. They sound pretty keen,’ he added, then glanced up as Alison came in with a nervous Polly.

‘Here’s Mum,’ Alison said, and Rebecca and Polly had a kiss and a cuddle before Rebecca was taken to Theatre, because only seeing her mum would truly reassure the anxious child.

‘I’m going to take her up to the children’s ward soon,’ Alison told Rebecca. ‘Just for observation. They’ll make a fuss of her. You can ring her this evening when you’re back from Theatre and feeling better—or one of the staff might bring her up for a little visit.’

‘She’s nice…’ Rebecca said when Alison had left. Nick agreed, saying that Polly was being well looked after by her, then told his patient to put her oxygen mask back on because he didn’t want to think about how nice Alison was—there was more to Alison than there was time to know, more to her than there was scope to explore. No, he really didn’t need this.

Heading into the staffroom for a quick lunch break later, when Ellie asked if he was going to the social club that night, it would have been far more sensible to answer that gleam in her eye with a smile and a ‘Yes’, or take Moira up on that offer to go to that Irish pub, because instinct told him that they knew the rules—that he was on holiday and not here for a long time, just a good one, but instead all he really noticed was that Alison had glasses on today while doing the crossword and didn’t look up to hear his response, though her cheeks burnt red and her ears were pink as she pretended to concentrate on the puzzle in front of her. Because the seat next to her was the only one left, he chose it, peered over her shoulder and, yes, she was stuck on the same word as he’d been. He was about to nudge her, to tease her, because ‘leitmotif’ was a word it had taken him a full morning to get, but he deliberately stopped himself.

‘Leitmotif!’ He heard the triumph in her voice and ignored it, felt the haste of her pen beside him, and it took every bit of effort not to turn round and join her in that moment.

No, this Nick really didn’t need.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘ALISON doesn’t want to be my friend.’

He lasted two days.

Two days trying not to notice how her neck went a little bit pink when he spoke to her. Two days ignoring the fragrance of her hair when their heads occasionally met over a patient, or that now and then she’d rub her forehead and on would come her glasses. Two days of just talking, just keeping it as it was, then, as happened at times, but had to happen on this day, Alison came off the worse for wear with an inebriated patient. Showered and changed into the most threadbare, faded scrubs, Nick got the most astonishing view of what appeared to be a purple bra and panties, before Sheila pointed the problem out and Alison put on a theatre gown. Like a dressing gown over pyjamas, Nick thought, and then tried not to think, and then just stopped thinking for a dangerous moment as she sat next to him writing up his notes, her ponytail wet and heavy, and he forgot, just simply forgot not to flirt.

‘Why don’t you want to be my friend, Alison?’ He nudged her as if they were sitting in a classroom and Alison, who wasn’t having the greatest day, annoyed with herself for not replacing her spare uniform, found herself trying not to smile, yet she did carry on the joke and put her arm over the notes she was writing as if he was trying to copy her.

‘I am your friend, Nick.’

‘Not on Facebook…’

‘I haven’t got time to play online…’ Alison said. ‘Some of us live and work in the real world—I’m studying to get on this trauma course.’

‘You’re friends with Ellie.’ He grinned and then stopped, and so too did Alison. There was this charge in the air; it would be far safer to carry on writing, or just get up and go, but she didn’t, she just sat. ‘Are you going to have to get the bus wearing that? Only I can—’

‘I washed my uniform and begged them on the rehab ward to use their tumbledryer…’ She didn’t get to finish because screams filled the department and Nick jumped up as a man was stretchered in, sucking on the gas, in sheer agony at the prospect of being moved from the stretcher to the gurney.

‘Can I have a quick look before you move him? ‘

His jeans had already been cut off and it was a rather horrible sight, his dislocated patella causing the whole leg to look deformed. It was an excruciating injury and Alison blinked as, without X-ray, without delay, Nick told the man to suck on the gas and with one flick popped it back.

A shriek filled the department and then a sob and then the sound of relieved silence.

‘Let’s get him on the gurney and then we’ll need X-rays.’ He chatted for a moment to his extremely grateful patient, then chatted a bit more to the rather impressed paramedics, then he walked over to where Alison was now on the computer, checking some blood results, and she could feel the heat whoosh up her neck as he came over.

‘God, I’m good.’ He grinned and, yes, it was arrogant, but it was funny too, and Alison couldn’t help but smile as she rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah, but you know it.’

He looked at her and he wanted to look away, to walk away, to remember he was there for reasons other than this, except there was something about Alison that was hard to resist. Something about her that meant stern warnings could so easily be ignored.

‘Hey…’ Moira dashed past ‘…are you coming to the beach later, Alison?’ She gave a hopeful glance at Nick. ‘There are a few of us going—Amy…’

‘Not for me,’ Alison said.

‘Or me!’ Nick said. Moira shrugged and moved on. It was like sugar to artificial sweetener, Nick decided, because sugar was something he was trying to give up too. Yes, sweeteners tasted okay, once you got used to them, and for a while there they sufficed, but sooner rather than later you went back for the real thing…. And maybe he should just go to the beach, or a bar, or just home and have that takeaway that Amy had offered. Instead he found himself asking Alison if she wanted to go for a coffee.

‘I’ve got a dentist appointment.’

‘Ouch.’ He pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Hope it’s not too painful.’

‘Oh, it’s just my six-monthly check-up.’ And she smiled, but it sort of faded as she turned back to the computer, because it just about summed her up.

She had six-monthly check-ups, and when this one was done, no doubt, she’d do as she always did and while she was there make an appointment for the next one and write it in her diary, and she’d be there—she never missed.

Same as her eight-weekly trim at the hairdresser’s.

Same as she booked in the dog to be shampooed and clipped.

She bet Nick hadn’t spent ages on the computer, researching dentists to ensure he didn’t miss his six-monthly check-up.

The most gorgeous, sexy man was asking her for coffee and she’d turned him down for a dental appointment!

‘We could meet up afterwards, but not for long, I’ve got to look at that flat.’ She could hear her own words and inwardly reeled at them, and even as she mistyped the patient’s UR number she sounded almost blasé as she dipped in her toe and felt only warmth. ‘So long as I don’t end up getting a filling or something.’

‘Let’s just hope you’ve been flossing.’

She had been.

Alison lay in the chair with her mouth open as the dentist tapped each tooth in turn.

Not a single filling.

Again.

He cleaned them, polished them and they felt like glass as she ran her tongue over them. As she paid and headed out, she didn’t get why she was so nervous.

Why she wanted to just not show up.

Because it might just be coffee and strudel and then she’d be disappointed, Alison thought as she stepped out onto the street with her sparkly clean teeth. Or, worse, it might be more than coffee and strudel.

Maybe that was what he did—pick someone wherever he went, dazzle her with the full glare of his spotlight.

And he really could dazzle.

Since two minutes past six on Friday morning, he’d been on her mind.

She rang her mum, told her she was having coffee with friends before she went to look at the flat, and as she turned the corner he was there already and looked up and smiled as she made her way over and took her seat at the pavement café.

‘How was the dentist?’

‘Fine,’ Alison said, ‘I’ve earned my strudel.’

He ordered, and her nerves disappeared because, absolutely, he was still easy to talk to and easy to listen to, too. Not working for a few months, Nick said, was the single best thing he had ever done. ‘Because,’ he continued, spooning four sugars into his coffee as Alison tapped in a sweetener, ‘I actually missed it.’

‘Well, you love your job,’ Alison said. ‘That’s obvious.’

‘But I didn’t,’ Nick said, and Alison blinked at his admission. ‘That’s one of the reasons I took a year off. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to do medicine any more, let alone work in Emergency.’

‘But you seem to enjoy it.’

‘I’m starting to.’ He was in no rush, just sat and drank his coffee as if he’d be happy to sit there all evening and told her a little about himself. ‘There was never any question that I’d be a doctor—preferably a surgeon. My dad’s one, my grandfather was one, my elder brother is, as is my sister…’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Can you imagine what we talk about over dinner?’

‘What about your mum?’

‘Homework monitor,’ Nick said, and Alison laughed. ‘There was no question and, really, I accepted that, right up till the last year of medical school—which I enjoyed, but…’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I wanted to take a year off to travel, but I ended up taking an internship.’

‘I was the same,’ Alison interrupted, which was rare for her. Normally she sat quietly and listened. ‘I wanted a year off when I finished school, but Mum and Dad said I should finish my studies.’

‘I had the same conversation with mine.’ Nick groaned. ‘So I did my internship, decided I liked emergency work, met Gillian and it was all.’

‘Nice,’ Alison offered.

And they could hardly hear the other’s story for telling their own, or hardly tell their own for hearing the other person’s.

‘Work was okay about it—they gave me a year’s unpaid leave, but they made it pretty clear that there’d be no extension. I’ve no idea how bad divorce must be,’ Nick said, ‘because breaking up after four years was hard enough. I mean, there was no real reason—it was just the talk of mortgages and babies and if we’d hyphenate our names…’ He called the waiter and ordered another coffee and Alison ordered a hot chocolate. ‘I was having a midlife crisis apparently!’ Nick said. ‘At thirty!’

‘I had one too,’ Alison said, ‘and I’m only twenty-four.’ And she laughed, for the first time she laughed about the sorry situation she had found herself in a year ago. She told him a little about Paul, her one serious relationship—how well he’d got on with her mother, how hard it had been to end it—but there was something she wanted to know about him. ‘So…’ Alison was cautious, but terribly, terribly curious. ‘Are you two having a break…?’

‘No,’ Nick said. ‘I ended it and it wasn’t nice, but it was necessary. I just hope one day she can see that—four weeks later I’d got a round-the-world ticket and was flying to New York.’

And she sat outside a pavement café with a man who came from the other side of the world, but who felt somehow the same, and there was a fizz in her veins she’d never felt before, a glow inside as they chatted on, and she could have stayed and spoken to him for hours, except she had her real estate appointment at seven.

‘Do you want me to come?’ Nick asked. ‘I love looking at houses.’

‘It’s an apartment.’

‘It’s someone else’s!’ Nick grinned. ‘I love being nosy.’

And Alison smiled back because, even if flat-hunting was hell, yes, she liked that aspect of it too, loved that peek into others’ lives, the solace that wardrobes the length and breadth of Coogee were filled fit to bursting, that some people didn’t even make their beds when they had people coming round to view. And she told him so and told him some more. ‘One couple were rowing on Saturday,’ Alison said.

‘The owners?’ Nick asked, and she loved how his eyes widened in glee.

‘I think they were breaking up.’ Alison nodded. ‘They stood on the balcony and had this screaming match during the open inspection.’

‘God, I wish I’d been there,’ Nick said, and she kind of wished he’d been there too—liked that he liked the same things as her, that odd little things pleased.

‘Come on, then.’ She went to fish out her purse, but Nick waved her away and it would have been embarrassing really to protest—and even there he was different. Paul had decided on their first date that equality meant you split the bill—and she told him so as they walked down the hill and turned at the chemist’s.

‘He lived in constant terror that he might end up paying for a round of garlic bread when he hadn’t eaten a slice,’ Alison said, and then wondered if she should have said that, if it was bitchy to talk about your ex like that. ‘He was a great guy, just toward the end…’ She trailed off and Nick got it, he just completely got it.

‘Gillian and I ended up the same,’ he said as they walked up the hill to meet the real estate agent. ‘At first I used to love it that she did my crossword, but near the end I was setting my alarm early and nearly breaking my neck to get down the stairs and to the newspaper first.’ He glanced over to check that she got it too and Alison smiled. ‘It’s not the crossword, or the garlic bread, is it?’

‘He was great,’ Alison said. ‘It was more…’ And she told him a bit about herself, not enough to have him running in the opposite direction, just a little. ‘It was too nice,’ Alison said. ‘Too easy, almost. Mum’s a bit overprotective and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Paul suggested he move in.’ She still burnt at the memory. ‘Mum was delighted, it felt like they had it all worked out.’

‘They just forgot to ask you,’ Nick said, and for the first time in her life, she felt as if someone got her.

CHAPTER FIVE

ALISON had very few expectations as the real estate agent opened the front door and she stepped inside. There had been so many disappointments, so many letdowns, that, in the name of self-preservation, she kept her hopes determinedly down.

Even as they looked at the surprisingly spacious lounge, even that this apartment actually had a kitchen, though even the real estate agent managed a wry smile at the supposed glimpse of the bay. Nick could see it because he was a full foot taller, but apparently, there at the top right hand side of the kitchen window was her beloved beach.

‘There is a second bedroom.’ Alison peered into a cupboard. ‘Well,’ the real estate agent attempted, ‘it would make a nice nursery.’

‘Or study,’ Nick offered when Alison laughed, and then they moved along the hall.

‘This is the main bedroom.’

It was larger than expected too, and, really, all Alison’s wishes had been answered. The owners were off to London, the husband leaving the next day apparently, and the wife following in a month’s time. ‘Really, he’d like to know it was all taken care of before he leaves,’ the real estate agent explained. ‘They want a thirty-day settlement…’

And she listened to the wah-wah white noise as the agent did his spiel, but it wasn’t the large airy bedroom Alison could see but the suitcase beside the bed, and it truly dawned that if she bought this flat, she was, without doubt, saying goodbye to her dream of travelling, and even though she’d thought it through, even though she’d gone over it a hundred million times, when it came to it, she stalled at the final hurdle.

‘Can I have till the morning?’ Alison saw the agent’s eyebrows rise in surprise. For weeks he had seen her at open inspections at places far less nice than this and now he was almost handing her this opportunity on a plate and at the last minute the genuine buyer he’d ensured the vendors he had was faltering.

‘The vendors want to save on advertising, that’s why I agreed to bring you through, but the photographer is booked for midday and it will go on the market then, unless I hear otherwise.’

‘Sure,’ Alison said. ‘I’ll ring tomorrow.’

‘I’m impressed,’ Nick said as they walked down the street.

‘Why?’

‘I thought you’d snatch his hand off to get it—you certainly know how to play it cool.’

‘It’s not that,’ Alison started, and then halted herself. She was hardly going to tell a virtual stranger, albeit a very nice virtual stranger, her dilemma—and then, in that moment she realised the stark truth, it wasn’t even a dilemma. She really had no choice in the matter. ‘I just want to speak to Mum first.’

‘It’s a big decision,’ Nick said, and Alison stopped walking.

‘I turn off here.’ She gave him a nice smile. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’

‘Thanks for the company.’

It was a strange moment. The light-heartedness of earlier had gone—Alison heavy with indecision and Nick no doubt not understanding why.

‘I’ll see you at work tomorrow.’

She turned up the street and bizarrely felt like crying. She knew, was positive in fact, that he was watching her and that made her walk faster. She wanted to turn, wanted to run back to him, to go to a club or a bar, to ask him about his adventures, she wanted to sit and listen to music, to be late, to not go home. Instead she turned the key in the door.

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘I was just starting to get worried.’

‘It’s not even eight!’ Alison pointed out.

‘You said you were out for coffee,’ Rose said. ‘A quick phone call would have been nice…’

There was a retort on Alison’s tongue, an urge to yet again point out her age, another beginning to a row that had never taken place but one they were steadily building towards. Then Alison caught sight of her father and brother’s photo on the shrine that used to be a mantelpiece, and swallowed down her bitter response, knew this was the small price she paid for living, knew she would do her best to avoid arguing and knew for certain that she had to move out.

‘I went to look at that flat.’ She saw her mother’s rapid blink. ‘I think I’ve finally found one.’ She spoke quickly into the ensuing silence. ‘It’s a ten-minute walk away, it’s got everything—two bedrooms, even a little balcony…’ And she waited for her mother to fill in the gap, to point out that she could live here for nothing, that it was stupid, pointless, but for once Rose didn’t speak, and not for the first time Alison tried to be honest. ‘I don’t know if I should take it. I mean, I’ll have a mortgage, there’s no way I’d be able…’ She glanced up and saw Rose swallow. ‘You know I always wanted to travel…’

And Rose in that moment had a choice between the lesser of two evils. She must have, because for once she didn’t jump in with all the reasons Alison would be stupid to leave home; for the first time ever she bordered on enthusiastic about her daughter moving out.

‘It sounds a nice flat.’ There was a wobble to Rose’s voice. ‘Two bedrooms, you say?’

‘Well, only one that’s actually big enough for a bed, but the other could be a nice study.’

‘You’ll need a study if you do your trauma course.’

‘The thing is, Mum—’

‘I know you want to travel…’ Rose broke in. ‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve given it a lot of thought, actually. We deserve a treat.’ As Alison opened her mouth to protest, Rose overrode her. ‘I know you’ve always wanted to go to Bali. I wouldn’t mind seeing it too. My treat,’ she said loudly as Alison tried to interrupt.

And as she lay in her single bed later on, Alison tried not to cry. She felt horribly selfish actually, because in the space of a few hours she’d found a flat and been offered a fortnight’s trip to Bali. It was just.

The first year after the accident she’d taken her mum for weekends away, she and Paul had taken her for a holiday once too, with Alison sharing a room with her mum. Then last year they’d been to Queensland for a week—her mum saying all the time how much her father and brother would have liked it.

She ripped back the sheet, and almost ran to the window.

There were no bay views from her bedroom but there was the distant roar of the ocean as she pushed the window open and gulped in the cool night air. And there were the sounds of the bars and the backpackers and youth and fun, and she was tempted to run down in her nightdress, tempted to find what ever bar Nick was in, to rush up to him and kiss his face off, to take him by the hand and dance and dance, to come back at dawn without sending her mother a text.

To be free.

CHAPTER SIX

‘YAY!’ The whole staffroom cheered when a beaming Alison revealed her news as she walked into her late shift.

She’d soon got over herself—a brisk walk on the beach at the crack of dawn and a stern talk with herself had turned things round in her head. Then, at nine a.m. she’d rung the real estate agent, at nine-forty she’d been at the bank, at nine fifty-five she’d handed the deposit over and signed a mountain of forms, and now, at midday, she almost had a mortgage.

‘Congratulations.’ Nick pulled her aside the first chance he got. It had been a busy afternoon and Alison had been working the paediatric cots while Nick had been in Resus, but as she came back from her coffee break, he was just heading off for his.

‘Thanks!’ Alison said. ‘It’s pretty exciting.’

‘How about dinner,’ Nick offered, ‘to celebrate?’ And when she paused, when she didn’t just jump in and say yes, Nick upped the offer. ‘With lots of garlic bread.’

‘Why?’ He didn’t understand the hurt in her eyes, he didn’t really understand the question. ‘Why would we go out for dinner?’

‘Because you want to?’ Nick said, because he was sure that she did. ‘Because I want to? ‘

‘I don’t…’ Her voice trailed off, and her words hung in the air, the wrong words because she did want to, very much. She had been about to say that she didn’t see the point in pursuing this, except when he was around she did see the point—he was nice and funny and whatever attraction was, it was there, for both of them.

‘I’m not sure.’ She changed tack, headed for safer ground, used a method far safer than exposing her heart. ‘What with work and everything.’

Nick could have pointed out that it was just dinner, that, given they’d been out on Friday, clearly work colleagues did meet up outside the walls of Emergency. Except it wasn’t just dinner and it wasn’t the emergency crew he wanted to see more of out of hours—it was her. And, yes, he was bending his own rules, but it was, after all, just for a short while and even if it was work, it was still a holiday. He wasn’t asking for for ever, he wasn’t threatening to run away with her heart, he just wanted more of the smile that sometimes brightened her serious face, wanted more of the woman he was getting to know.

‘We could keep it quiet.’ He ran a hand through his hair as he renegotiated his own boundaries.

‘Sounds good.’

And those words were the bravest she’d uttered.

‘About ten?’ Nick said, and her smile disappeared when she realised he meant tonight, that his impulsive world was invading hers. ‘Ten-thirty?’ he said, and named a nice bar. ‘I’ll pick you up.’ And she thought of her mother and shook her head at the image.

‘Ten-thirty’s great.’ She forced a smile. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

Thankfully, she was kept almost busy enough not to be nervous. It wasn’t a date, she kept telling herself, it was just friends going out for a couple hours. She managed not to think about it, especially when dealing with a very restless baby and an extremely anxious mum.

‘She’s putting on weight.’ Lucia, the paediatric intern, was thorough and nice and doing her best to reassure Shelly, the mother of an eight-week-old. ‘I know reflux babies are hard, but you are doing everything right.’ And she went through all the medications and thickeners that little Casey was on, and checked that she was being positioned properly.

‘She won’t settle, though,’ Shelly said. ‘She hardly goes two hours.’

‘That’s why my registrar suggested you look at the mother and baby day clinic,’ Lucia said. ‘She’s well, though.’ Despite everything, the baby was well. There were no signs of dehydration, her nappies were wet, her obs were normal—she was just a very fussy baby. ‘You’ve got an appointment coming up with the paediatrician…’ Her pager was going off, her registrar had already looked over the baby and deemed little Casey well enough to go home, and there was only one paediatric bed left to last the night. Lucia was only checking her over again because the mother was still concerned, and despite Lucia’s reassurances, as she said goodbye Alison knew Shelly wasn’t reassured. Neither was she, though her concern wasn’t just for the baby. She could see Shelly’s shaking hands as she did up the poppers on her baby’s little outfit, saw that despite the baby screaming, Shelly said nothing to soothe her, just wrapped her up and put her in her little car seat, without a word, without a cuddle. There was no malice in her actions. She was just a mother very close to the edge.

‘Amy saw this baby and handed her over to Paeds.’ She handed Nick the notes. ‘Amy’s gone home and Paeds have seen the baby and they’re happy to discharge. I’m just concerned…’ She waited as he read through the notes, waited for him to roll his eyes, or sigh, or say ‘I’ll get to it,’ but instead he listened as Alison voiced her concerns and he read easily between the lines. ‘Lucia did suggest the day clinic to sort out her sleeping pattern.’

‘What did Mum say to that?’

‘She agreed to it, but there’s normally a two-week wait.’

‘Do you think she’s depressed?’

‘I’m sure she is,’ Alison said, ‘just not enough for an urgent admission. And frankly I’d be feeling depressed. I tried feeding her and it was hard work.’

‘Okay.’ He slid off his stool and went over and introduced himself. He chatted to Shelly about her babe, taking her out of her little seat and examining the infant himself. ‘When is she due for a feed?’

‘She’s constantly due!’ Shelly said through gritted teeth. ‘She never finishes a bottle, she screams as if I’m pouring acid down her throat instead of milk…’ The young mother bit back angry tears as her baby lay on the mattress, screaming. ‘I know she’s got reflux, I know it will get better.’

‘Okay,’ Nick said, and when Shelly didn’t, Alison started to dress the baby again. She waited for him to suggest she get a bottle, that he observe the babe feed, or a little bit more of what had taken place on and off for the last four hours, but he did none of that. He gave a brief smile and nodded and said he’d be back in a moment as Shelly blew out a long breath.

‘What’s happening?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Alison said, as the baby’s screams quadrupled. ‘Here,’ she said, when Shelly sat down beside the cot and put her head in her hands, ‘would you like me to take Casey for a little walk? I’ll see if I can find out what’s happening.’

Casey did stop crying, the motion, the bright lights, the activity all distracting her enough as Alison walked through the department and found Nick perched back on his stool.

‘What’s happening?’

‘She’ll be admitted,’ Nice said. ‘I’ve just paged the paed reg.’

‘He’s happy for her to go home and be seen in Outpatients…’

‘Well, I’m not,’ Nick said. ‘Which means that she’s going to be admitted.’

And he told the paediatric reg the same when he picked up the phone. Yes, he was friendly and perfectly reasonable at first, and then Alison got her first glimpse of a different Nick, an extremely assertive Nick who, despite the smile and the easygoing banter, took his job very seriously and would not be argued with.

A Nick who was going to go far.

‘It’s not even an option,’ Nick said, turning his pen over and over between the desk and his fingers, clearly in no rush. ‘She can be transferred to another hospital if there are no beds here, but I’m not happy to send her home, so either ring your intern and tell her to come and do the paperwork, or I can ring your consultant to discuss it further. But whatever comes of it, this baby isn’t going home.’

‘That told them,’ Alison said.

‘I don’t see why everything has to be an argument—it’s the same everywhere,’ Nick added. ‘I know there are hardly any beds, I know she’s not acute, but.’ He glanced down towards the bay. ‘I’m going to have a word with Mum.’

He was nice and practical and explained that Casey should be monitored and was upfront about Shelly’s tension. ‘We need to be really sure we haven’t overlooked anything and if everything checks out, we need to make sure you get the support you need with Casey.’

He just dealt with things, without fuss or drama, and he didn’t moan as he did so.

‘He’s nice, that doctor,’ Shelly commented as Alison took her up to the ward, the porter wheeling the mother and baby in a chair.

‘He is,’ Alison agreed, and then she remembered.

She was having dinner with that nice doctor tonight.

Taking the bus simply wasn’t an option. By the time she had taken Shelly up to the ward and dashed back, it was already well after nine and she’d missed her bus, and as much as Nick might be expecting her to change quickly and dash back out, and as much as Alison wanted to look as if she’d changed quickly and dashed back out, there was no girl facing such a prospect who would. Which was why, despite now being a responsible, soon-to-be homeowner, Alison splurged on a taxi, though she made sure that it dropped her off at the end of the street to avoid even more questions from her mum.

‘Out?’ Rose frowned as Alison flew in the door.

‘For dinner,’ Alison said. ‘To celebrate getting the flat.’

‘Who with?’

‘Friends from work,’ Alison said, and it wasn’t a lie, she consoled herself as she dashed up the stairs. It was just a slight exaggeration, or rather playing the situation down, because friends from work was safe, a friend from work a bit different.

A male friend from work.

A gorgeous, blond, funny, sexy, ‘here for a good time, not a long time’ male friend from work.

Getting ready for Nick was rather like getting a patient quickly prepared for Theatre. Alison went through a rapid mental checklist, cleaning her teeth, shaving her legs, even cleaning her ears, body lotion, perfume, subtle make-up, hair gloss, nice underwear, really, really nice underwear—not that he’d be seeing it, but just because, because, because.

She was simply meeting a friend from work, Alison told herself over and over as she trawled through her wardrobe till the contents lay on a heap on her bed, wondering how she could have nothing to wear when her entire bed was covered. She settled for a pale grey tube skirt that she’d had for ever and a cheap but cheerful top she’d bought the previous week, pulled on some bracelets as she dashed downstairs, wished her mum goodnight and flew down the street, rather surprised to find Nick waiting for her at the end.

‘Don’t want you walking on your own.’

‘I do it all the time,’ Alison said.

‘You look nice.’ His eyes told her that he meant it.

‘Oh.’ She gave a casual shrug, one that said it had been no effort at all! ‘Thanks.’

He was just a friend, Alison told herself as he went to kiss her on the cheek.

Or maybe not, because very deliberately he avoided her cheek and met her mouth, and it was slow and deliberate and its meaning was clear, crystal clear, that this was more than just friendship.

And for Nick it was confirmation too.

He felt first her hesitancy, her guardedness and then he felt what he knew, or rather had guessed at. Felt this gathering of passion on full lips and despite self-issued warnings he wanted to unleash it.