Kitabı oku: «One Life-Changing Night»

For Sukidoo, the best friend I’ve never met. xx

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Louisa Heaton

Excerpt

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SHE HADN’T EXPECTED to fall into the arms of a stunningly handsome man on her first day at work. Or to have climbed up a wobbly ladder in Welbeck Memorial’s A&E department. But it was nearly the end of January and the Christmas decorations were still up.

Naomi had offered to take them down at the end of her shift, which had been a long twelve hours, and her head was buzzing with information and protocols and procedures. But she had nothing waiting for her at home—not even a cat—and, quite frankly, putting off going back to her little bedsit with its dingy second-hand furniture had seemed like a good option. Starting a new life was one thing, but starting it in a derelict, ought-to-be-bulldozed ground-floor flat with a growing mould problem was another.

When she’d offered to take the decorations down, the sister in charge had been very sweet. ‘Oh, you don’t have to do that! We’ll get one of the porters to do it. It’s your first day.’

But she’d insisted. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. Besides, it’s bad luck to keep them up this long. Bringing the old year into the new.’

‘Well, just be careful. There’s a stepladder in my office you can use, but make sure you get someone to steady it for you, or you’ll have Health and Safety on my back.’

Naomi smiled to herself, remembering the health and safety lecture she’d sat through that morning. She would be sensible and follow the rules. Just as she’d always done. She located the boxes for the Christmas decorations piled high in the sister’s office and spent the first hour removing baubles and tinsel from the lower branches.

The old, artificial tree was almost bald in parts and she could see it was decades old, dragged out from its box year after year to try and brighten the place up. Her nose wrinkled as she leant too far into one of the branches and breathed in dust and the smell of Christmases past.

As she pulled her face free of the tree, another stench—this one of alcohol and body odour—mixed into the fray, sweeping over her like a wave. A scruffy-looking man with stained clothes staggered towards her. She turned to steady him as he passed by, hoping to steer him back in the direction of the waiting room, but the drunk angrily turned on her instead. ‘Leave me alone! Shouldn’t you be working instead of playing with that tree? I’ve been waiting to be seen for ages and you’re out here messing around!’

They often saw people who were drunk in Accident and Emergency and Naomi knew they were mostly unthreatening. All she had to do was be non-confrontational and pleasant and they would be satisfied.

She smiled and led him back into the waiting room. ‘You’ll be seen soon, sir, don’t worry.’

‘Bloomin’ patronising me! You should be working!’ he slurred.

She saw no point in telling him she’d already worked a twelve-hour shift and that she ought to have been at home by now. He didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to hear that he would be treated. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long now.’

Once he was settled back into his chair, she went back to the tree. To get the decorations down from the top she needed to go up the ladder. And that meant she needed someone to help steady it.

She headed back into the unit, looking for someone who was free, but everyone was so busy. And she didn’t know anyone well enough yet to interrupt their work and ask them to help her. Because what was more important? Patient care, or an old tree?

Naomi looked down the long corridor at the stepladder. It wasn’t that high. Just three steps. What harm would it do, if she was quick? Surely Matron wouldn’t like her taking away a member of staff to hold a ladder when they could be treating someone.

Hmm. I’ll be careful. These health and safety measures are always too cautious anyway.

She positioned the ladder where she needed it, noticing that it was a little uneven, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was about to pounce and tell her off, and climbed up. She picked off the first few baubles and strings of tinsel and dropped them into the cardboard boxes beneath, hearing them plop into the decorations below. She worked quickly, steadying herself when she felt the ladder wobble a bit beneath her feet. The star on the top of the tree was just a tiny bit out of her reach and so she leant for it, stretching. The ladder wobbled even more so and she felt it start to move beneath her. ‘Oh!’

She felt herself fall and braced herself for the impact and the hard, unforgiving floor. But instead, her fall was broken by a solid, reassuring pair of arms.

Stunned, she looked up to say thank you, but her voice somehow got stuck in her throat.

This man was nothing like the drunk that had accosted her a moment ago. This man had captivating eyes of cerulean blue, a strong jawline and he smelt just … heavenly! Masculine and invigorating.

‘Whoa! Are you mad?’ That voice. The most perfect accent she’d ever heard. Refined. Educated. Even if it was currently scolding her.

She blushed madly as she stared up into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat. She was embarrassed at having fallen. Ashamed at having been caught up the ladder when she’d been told to get someone to help her and desperately doing her level best to appear normal and not swoon like a heroine in a romance novel. She’d been determined to move to London and start life as a strong, confident, independent woman and yet here she was: it was only her first day at work and she was lying in a man’s arms.

A very handsome man’s arms! Her cheeks flamed with heat as he easily stood her upright, making sure she was steady before he let her go. When he did, she almost felt disappointed to be out of those arms, but … oh!

He was tall, almost a head taller than her, well past six foot, and he had the most startling blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was looking her over, assessing her, his gaze questioning.

She managed to find some words. ‘Thank you, I … shouldn’t have been up there.’ She blushed again, brushing her hands down her clothes as if she were covered in dust and dirt. She wasn’t. She just didn’t know what else to do and she had to do something! Naomi had never been held in a man’s arms like that. Cradled. Protected. Vincent had never held her that way. Not that that was his fault.

This man was probably used to women blushing in front of him. Women fawning at his feet, unable to string a sentence together.

He was dressed smartly in what had to be a tailored bespoke suit that fitted his finely toned body to perfection. This man knew how to dress and he dressed well, his clothes accentuating his best features. A red scarf slung casually around his neck highlighted the auburn tones in his hair.

Still, she wasn’t going to let herself be blown away by a gorgeous man. She knew men like this usually came with health warnings.

Get involved at your own risk.

Look at what had happened to her mother, for instance.

She wasn’t even sure who he was. She looked for the badge that all hospital employees wore, but couldn’t see it.

‘You must be new here?’ She saw him glance at her name badge.

‘Naomi.’ She reached out her hand to shake his. ‘Bloom. A&E nurse. First day.’

He looked at her hand briefly as if she were offering him a handful of sputum. Then he ignored it. ‘Tom Williams. Clinical Lead and doctor. Almost your doctor for that stunt you just pulled.’

She faltered, her hand dropping away from him. This was her boss? She looked away, trying to think quickly, before returning her gaze to his. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘You had your induction this morning?’ If this had been any other situation, she could have listened to his voice all day. It was rich and warm, classy. It was the sort of voice you heard from an English villain in an American movie.

Focus.

‘I did, but—’

He smiled at her but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘The health and safety briefing was covered?’

She nodded, feeling like a naughty child who was standing in front of a headmaster. ‘Yes, but I didn’t want to pull anyone away from their work, as they were all so busy, so I thought I’d do it myself.’ The words burbled out of her quickly, showing her horror at having been caught so badly in the wrong.

She’d assumed she had been doing the right thing. Naomi had learnt the value of being able to do something for yourself. It was a pleasure denied to many people. A normality that they craved. To be able to do simple things like opening their own cupboard to reach for a mug, or taking themselves to the toilet. On their own. Without someone to help them.

He glanced at the tree. ‘Well, luckily I managed to save you from a sprained ankle. Or something worse.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘A sprained neck wouldn’t have gone down well on your first day. Nor would me having to fill in a three-page incident-report form after I’ve just spent twenty hours on non-stop duty.’

‘I’m sorry, Dr Williams.’

Tom frowned, seeming concerned as he looked around them and over towards the waiting area. ‘Who asked you to do this?’

She shrugged. ‘I volunteered.’

‘You volunteered?’ He let out a short, impatient sigh. ‘Well, if you’re going to insist on doing this, I’d better stay and make sure you’re safe.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to—’

‘You might head back up that ladder. Besides, I was only on my way home.’ He placed his folded coat down on top of his briefcase, removed his scarf and rolled up his sleeves.

He had beautiful forearms … Smooth. Strong.

If he hadn’t just given her a dressing-down, she might have been tempted to appreciate them a bit more. ‘Right. Erm … thanks.’

He looked the tree up and down. ‘This old tree ought to have been passed through a chipper years ago.’

‘I don’t think they do that to fake trees.’

‘No. Probably not.’

He started to take off some more of the decorations that he could reach just by standing there, which Naomi hadn’t had a chance in hell of reaching, and then he passed them to her, so she could put them in their boxes a little more carefully than she’d been doing earlier. She hated feeling like a chastised child and wanted to get back on a more even keel, so she ventured some basic conversation. ‘So you’ve worked here for a while, then?’

He glanced at her. ‘Yes. What made you come to Welbeck?’

He didn’t need to know her history. He probably didn’t even want to know. He was just being polite. Or, at least, as polite as he could be.

She’d already vowed not to mention her past to anyone here. She didn’t want pity or sympathy. She just wanted to get on with her life. If she told people she’d come out of a marriage where she’d been more of a carer than a wife, they tended to look at her with pity.

‘I used to live in the East Midlands, originally, but I fancied a change of pace, so I got myself a cheap bedsit down here and hoped for the best.’ This was better conversation, she thought. Much better than being told off.

‘I thought I heard an accent.’

She smiled, never having thought of herself as someone with an accent. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. Bit of a northern twang. I’ll go up the ladder and get the rest of them.’

‘Be my guest.’ She held it steady as he went up and together they made a quick, efficient team. The tree was soon naked of ornaments, broken down into its segments and boxed away for next year. Naomi quickly swept up the debris. It hadn’t taken them more than fifteen minutes to get it sorted. ‘Thanks for the help. It was really kind of you.’

‘No problem.’ He seemed to look at her for a moment longer than was comfortable, then suddenly shook his head at whatever thought he’d had and picked up his coat and briefcase. ‘Let’s try not to get hurt tomorrow, Nurse Bloom, hmm?’

‘Course not.’ She watched him walk away and let out a breath that she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

Wow. What a bear!

And he was her boss! That was embarrassing. Her first day and she had already been caught breaking a rule, although thankfully not breaking anything else.

She determined to try and stay out of Dr Williams’s way as much as possible. She would only let him notice her when she was being brilliant, providing outstanding nursing care.

She headed in the other direction and went to fetch her coat.

The weather was doing its best to let the people of London know that it was winter. There’d been snow a few days ago and, though there’d been nothing since, it was still on the ground, due to the freezing temperatures. The surrounding buildings looked grey, damp and cold and as Naomi came out of the hospital to head for home—a place she really didn’t want to go, knowing it would be just as awful inside as it was out—she wrapped her knitted green scarf around her tightly and pulled on her gloves.

There were people standing outside the entrance to A&E puffing away on cigarettes, their hands cupped around them, as if somehow gaining a small measure of warmth. One of them was the drunk that had confronted Naomi earlier and he looked up, catching her gaze with vehemence. He came staggering back over to her, the overwhelming stench of body odour and stale alcohol almost overpowering. With one grimy finger he pushed her in the chest. ‘You lot kept me waiting.’

Naomi felt disconcerted. And a little afraid. She could handle this sort of aggression when she was at work. In the hospital. Then she had her uniform on and was surrounded by people who she knew would come to her aid. Violence against hospital staff wasn’t tolerated and they had security guards, too. But out here, outside work, in her normal clothes, she felt more vulnerable.

‘Look, sir—’

‘You lot … kept me waiting!’ He gave her another shove and she stumbled backwards, caught off balance, her heart pounding. What a first day she was having. She’d wound up her new boss and now she was being accosted by a member of the public. She held up her hands as if in surrender and backed away, afraid of what might happen, when suddenly a tall figure stepped between them.

It was Tom. He had stepped in, towering over the drunk like a menacing gladiator.

‘Step away.’ He dropped his briefcase to the floor without taking his eyes off the belligerent man and then slowly walked towards him.

Naomi watched, open-mouthed in shock. It had to be him! Rescuing her again!

What must he think of me?

‘What you gonna do? Huh? I know my rights!’ A small piece of spittle flew from the man’s mouth, but his swagger and bravado soon dissipated as Tom continued to step towards him.

‘If you ever touch a member of my staff again, you’ll find yourself in a police cell quicker than you could ever imagine.’

The man staggered backwards, blinking. ‘All right! All right! I’m going!’ He looked most put out that his bullying tactics hadn’t worked and he’d been knocked back by a better, stronger man. ‘You lot are all the same!’ He shuffled off, muttering, his cigarette smoke surrounding him like a dirty cloud.

Tom watched him go, his coat collar turned up around his neck. Only when he was convinced that the drunk was far enough away did he turn around to look at Naomi, his gaze checking her for any injury, concern in his eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ His voice held a note of the same concern.

She nodded quickly. Briefly. She was unable to believe how quickly the situation had escalated.

‘Mick’s a frequent flyer here. Often presents drunk. He’s lonely, I think.’ His voice had an odd tone, but whatever he’d been thinking disappeared from his face when he turned again to make sure Mick had truly gone.

‘But still he has a go at the people trying to help him.’

He smiled, disarming her. ‘It happens.’

‘You can say that again.’ She watched Mick from afar, glad that Tom had intervened. Although she felt she would have handled it, if she’d had to. She’d taken kick-boxing classes once, years ago. She had needed something intensely physical to do, seeing as it wasn’t required in her marriage. At home, she’d had to be careful in everything she did, walking on eggshells, making sure she made no dramatic movements so as not to cause inadvertent injury. Being extra careful all of the time had just seemed to emphasise her natural clumsiness. By the end, her marriage had been a physical prison.

‘Thanks again. It seems you’ve rescued me twice in one day.’ She tried to break the tension she was feeling by making a joke. ‘You really ought to be wearing shining armour and riding a white horse, or something.’

He just stared at her, his face impassive.

Not a lover of jokes either. Okay.

‘Anyway. Thank you.’

‘Will you get home all right?’

She nodded and pulled up the collar of her own coat. ‘It’s not far. Just around the corner, to be honest. St Bartholomew’s Road.’

‘Then I’ll walk you home. Mick could still be a bother. I know him and he doesn’t always do what’s wise.’

She couldn’t let him do that. He’d done enough for her today and, besides, she didn’t need him witnessing the dump she was living in. That would be too embarrassing. By his expensive clothes, she could tell this was a man that probably lived in a penthouse apartment. He’d take one look at her bedsit and then what would he think of her? He probably already thought of her as incompetent and she didn’t want him thinking of her as some sort of Cinderella figure.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do.’ He smiled. ‘You’ve almost fallen once today. If you fell on the ice now, it would undo all of my previous hard work.’

Naomi smiled back, her grin almost freezing into place in the bitter wind.

Right. I just won’t invite him in. Then he won’t understand how bad it is. I can do this. He’s not a complete ogre.

‘Okay.’

They walked along at a pleasant pace. There was a large park by the hospital and, this late in the day, it was filled with people walking their dogs, or couples strolling hand in hand. Naomi always noticed people doing that. It had been something denied to her and Vincent. She’d always been pushing his wheelchair.

But today, instead, she caught herself sneaking looks at Tom and even though she tried to stop herself—sure that he would notice—she kept doing it.

He was so good-looking; tall and broad, yet slim. He frightened her. Not just because he was her boss and probably thought she was an incompetent nincompoop, but because he was without a doubt the most handsome man she had ever met. Handsome men, in her experience, caused trouble. They had certainly caused enough for her mother, who had brought back endless strings of attractive men. Fast-car driving, exquisitely clothed, silver-tongued individuals, so slick you’d have trouble distinguishing them from a vat of oil. Each man had caused their own problems. Borrowing money, never calling, one even taking his hand to her mother. Each and every one had been heartache and pain in a well-dressed suit. Each of them had broken her mother’s easily led heart.

That was why Naomi had fallen so easily in love with Vincent. Why she had married him. He’d been none of those things. He’d been average-looking, physically disabled. She’d always known where she was with him. She’d always known the expectations. It had been simple. And there’d been no worry or risk of him running off, having an affair and breaking her heart.

‘So how was your first day at Welbeck? Scintillating health and safety briefing aside?’

Naomi looked back at the road, busy with cars. ‘It was good. Exhausting, but good. I’ll be glad to get a decent night’s sleep. You? Did you have a busy day?’

See? I can do this. Pretend this is normal. There’s nothing more to it than one colleague walking another home, to ensure her safety. Having a normal conversation.

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you choose A&E as a discipline?’

‘It’s busy.’

She waited, assuming that he’d say more, but when he didn’t, she didn’t push him. They were both still strangers to each other. Perhaps he had personal reasons for his career that he didn’t feel like sharing with someone he’d only just met. After all, she was keeping secrets, too. Holding things back. He was entitled to do the same.

Naomi adjusted her scarf. ‘You know, it’s not far now. You’re probably coming out of your way to walk me home, so you can go, if you want to. I don’t think I’m going to get mugged in the next fifty metres.’

He turned to her. ‘You don’t like people helping you, do you?’

She blew out a breath. ‘I stand on my own two feet. I’ve got used to looking after myself and I like it. The independence. The freedom.’ She couldn’t tell him how much that meant to her. Being out in the world and doing her own thing without having to think of anyone else. She hadn’t been able to do that for a very long time.

They continued to walk, turning into her road, and she felt twisting snakes of nervousness swirl around in her stomach the closer they got.

She knew what he would think. He would see the small front yard, littered with an old settee and someone’s old fridge. The detritus and litter from what seemed like a million previous tenants—empty glass milk bottles, old cans, raggedy bits of clothing, dirtied by the weather and constant stream of car exhaust fumes. And if he got past her front door? Well, she’d tried her best to pretty the place up. She had done what she could, but it never seemed enough. The truth was, she couldn’t afford anywhere better and it would have to do until she’d gathered some more savings for a small deposit elsewhere.

Naomi estimated she had another six months of being here, before she could try and rent somewhere else. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m rude.’

He laughed to himself. ‘I can cope with rude.’

‘Well, I don’t mean to be.’ As they came to a halt outside her front garden she hesitated, sucking in a breath, her back turned to the property. ‘Well, this is me. Unfortunately.’

Tom smiled and looked past her. The smile dropped from his glorious face in an instant. ‘Did you leave your front door open?’

‘Er … no. Why?’ Naomi turned around and instantly saw the splintering down the door frame where someone had pried it open. She gasped and went to take a step forward, but Tom gripped her arm, holding her back.

‘Stay here. Call the police.’

‘You’re not going in?’ Whoever had broken in could still be in there! He had no idea what he would be walking into. There was splintered wood all over the place and goodness knew what they’d done to all her things inside. He could trip on anything, hurt himself. The burglars could be waiting with weapons. It was dangerous, and …

He’s not Vincent. Tom can handle himself.

He’d certainly shown himself to be capable when he’d sent Mick away outside the hospital. He’d had no hesitation about stepping into the fray there.

‘Just stay here.’ He laid a comforting hand upon her arm and then he was gone, darting through the doorway like an avenger, keen to surprise whoever might still be inside.

Naomi pulled her phone from her coat pocket and stabbed at the buttons, dialling for the police. Once she’d reported the break-in, she stepped towards her flat, her legs trembling, her knees weak.

She’d heard no sounds from within. No sudden clashing of Titans, no battle, no fight for survival. Whoever had broken in must be long gone. Feeling sick, she peered through the doorway. ‘Dr Williams?’

‘It’s okay. You can come in, there’s no one here!’

She stepped forward, into the small hall and then through the doorway to her lounge-kitchen.

It was as if a typhoon had swept through it. Sofa cushions had been tossed around, her coffee table knocked over and broken, her books strewn all over the floor. The few pictures she’d found at a market—nothing special, just bright prints—were on the floor, their frames smashed, the glass cracked and broken.

All of her precious belongings had been tossed around, as if they were nothing but rubbish at a dump. The sense of loss and devastation was overwhelming. With her hand over her face, she began to feel a tremble overtake her body, until she was shuddering and shaking, sobs gasping from her body as if every intake of breath were a desperate struggle for survival.

Tom frowned from his place in the kitchen and stood awkwardly as she cried.

She had no idea how long she stood there like that, just crying. For the loss of her things, for the loss of her privacy, for the uncaring way in which her things had been used and tossed aside. She’d never claimed to be rich, or to have expensive objects that she treasured, but this had been her very first venture out into the world to stand on her own two feet alone. The items she’d gathered in that home might have been from car boot sales or markets or pound shops, but they’d been hers. They’d each been treasured and valued as they’d arrived in her home to take their place and make the hole that she was living in a beautiful, homely place to be. Or at least, an attempt at one.

That someone had forced their way in, breaking and trashing everything … well, it broke her heart. So she cried.

And she cried. Until suddenly she realised she wasn’t crying any more and Tom had started trying to sort through her belongings. He’d been picking up books and ornaments, trying to straighten them, trying to return them to their rightful place.

She couldn’t look him in the eye. Had she not embarrassed herself enough in front of this man, today? Falling from a ladder. Being rescued from a drunk. Being heard as she cried like a baby? That last had been the most horrifying. It was embarrassing. Crying always made other people feel incredibly awkward and she didn’t need to look at him to know how much he wanted to leave, but was staying because he now felt obligated.