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A small black cat with huge ears and brilliant green eyes watched him disdainfully through the banisters as he went downstairs. He stretched out a hand to her, and after a second she turned away, and he carried on down with a wry chuckle, dismissed.
He hopped over the pointless but decorative little fence and went into his house, to find Daisy in the middle of the kitchen somehow bringing order to the chaos. The water was largely gone, and she was shoving debris to the side with a broom.
‘Daisy, you don’t have to do that! I’ll clear it up later.’
‘I’m nearly done. I’ve cleared the rubble off the boxes to give them a chance to dry out. I think you might have lost some crockery or glasses—that one tinkled a bit.’
He shrugged. Glasses he could live without. At least he was alive. He fingered the cut again, and she peered at it.
‘You need a plaster on that.’
He shrugged again. ‘No idea where they are, but I’m sure I’ll live. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from the plumber, have you?’
‘No, not yet. Take my mobile number and give me a missed call, and I’ll send you a text when I hear from him.’
He keyed it in, then slid the phone back into his pocket and ran a hand through his damp hair. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I’ve left my suit in your bath, but I have to go now. I’ll deal with it later, and all of this. You don’t have to do any more—’
‘Go. I’m nearly done. I’ll see you later. Can I just drop the door shut on the latch?’
‘That’s fine. Thank you so much. I owe you, bigtime.’
‘Too right. I’ll expect a slap-up dinner at the least,’ she said drily, swiping an armful of soggy plaster rubble off the worktop onto the filthy floor.
‘Consider it done.’
She flashed a smile at him, a streak of dirt on her cheek giving her the impish, mischievous look of a little girl having way too much fun—and he didn’t really want to start thinking about Daisy having fun, because it was a long, long time since he’d had fun with a woman, and for all she might look fleetingly like the little girl she’d once been, there was nothing but woman under those clothes. And he was taking her out to dinner?
He cleared his throat, nodded curtly and went.
‘Phew.’
Daisy straightened up, blew the hair back out of her eyes and looked around. Utter chaos, but at least it was organised chaos now. The rubble was swept into a heap, the boxes had been blotted dry and the water sucked up—and she was going to be late for work, today of all days!
She fled, grabbing the quickest shower on record and dragging on her clothes. Her hair would have to do, she decided, pulling it back and doubling it into a loose bun in an elastic band. No time for makeup. No time for anything, and the new consultant was starting today.
Great start, she thought. Please God he wasn’t an arrogant snob—or a tedious box-ticker. One of them on the team was more than enough. She ran to the car, paused in the street to shut her garden gates and headed for the hospital.
On the way she took a call from the plumber, then dropped Ben’s suit into the cleaners in the hospital reception area, instructing them to be careful. She’d seen the label, and it had made her wince.
Then she legged it for the ward.
By the time she got there, people were clustered around the nursing station. She could see a man’s head slightly above the rest, hear a quiet voice giving some kind of team-leading chat, and her heart sank. Damn. He was here already, doing the meet and greet. So much for making a good impression.
Evan Jones, the specialist registrar, gave the ward clock a pointed look as she squeezed into the group.
‘Sorry I’m—’ she began a little breathlessly, and then stopped in her tracks as the man turned and met her eyes, and if she hadn’t been so busy staring at him in shock she would have missed the quickly masked flicker of surprise.
‘Mr Walker, this is Dr Fuller,’ Evan said, sounding and looking unimpressed, but Ben’s professional smile did something utterly different in his eyes, and he brushed Evan smoothly aside.
‘Yes, we’ve met. Dr Fuller’s very kindly been doing something for me,’ he explained, cutting him off at the knees, and then turned back to her. ‘Any joy?’
Still shocked, running on autopilot and ready to fall in love with him for saving her from another tedious lecture, she nodded. ‘Yes, it’s sorted,’ she told him without missing a beat. He’d found a plaster, she thought, staring at the cut above his eyebrow, but apart from that you’d never know how his day had started. He looked cool, calm and in control—more than she was.
‘Thank you. I don’t think you’ve missed much,’ he said with a wry smile, then he looked back at the group. ‘As I was saying, I’m looking forward to working with you all, and I hope you’ll forgive me when I ask silly, irritating questions and don’t know where things are or how they’re done here. I’ll do my best to make this transition as painless as possible, if you’ll just bear with me, and if you’ve got anything you want to talk about, my door’s always open, so to speak.’
He smiled at them all. ‘Right, that’s it, everybody. I know you’ve all got plenty to do, so I won’t hold you up. Dr Jones, rather than keep you from our patients any longer, why don’t I get Dr Fuller to show me round? I need to speak to her anyway, so she might as well give me a quick tour and I’ll introduce myself to her properly, then I suggest we meet for coffee at nine thirty, if that’s all right, and you can fill me in on anything she might have missed and show me the department in detail. Any problems with that, either of you?’
Evan looked a bit startled, but conceded with a stiff little nod. ‘No, you go ahead, Mr Walker. I’m sure Dr Fuller can tell you everything you need to know. I don’t really have time, anyway. There are some patients I need to see urgently.’
‘Clare Griffiths,’ she said, worrying about her as she had been all weekend. ‘How’s she doing?’
‘I’ve seen her already. Don’t worry, I can manage without you,’ he said dismissively, and Ben frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. In fact, he was beginning not to like Evan Jones …
‘Fine. We’ll catch up with you later,’ he said, and without pausing for breath, he ushered Daisy towards the doors.
‘Doing something for you?’ she muttered under her breath, and his laugh, low and soft and inaudible except to her whispered over her nerve endings and made her shiver.
She gulped as he swiped his ID over the sensor and pushed the door open for her.
‘Well, you were, it wasn’t a lie. OK, first things first. I want you to fill me in on everything there is to know about the department and its politics—starting with the location of the nearest decent coffee.’ His mouth tipped into a wry grin. ‘Breakfast was unexpectedly cancelled.’
She had a vision of him covered in his ceiling, and grinned back. ‘Indeed. Full English, Mr Walker, or would you rather have something sweet and sinful?’
His eyes flared slightly, and for a second her breath hitched in her throat. ‘Oh, I think sweet and sinful sounds rather promising, Dr Daisy, don’t you?’ he murmured, and followed her out of the ward while she tried to remember how to breathe.
‘So—the plumber’s coming at seven?’ Ben said as they sat down with huge mugs of coffee and wickedly sticky buns—sweet and sinful, she’d said, and he had to try very, very hard to keep his thoughts on track as he watched her bite into hers. ‘Is that seven today or in three years’ time?’
‘No, today,’ she said with a laugh, taking down her hair and twisting it back up again into a knot. Pity. He preferred it down. It looked soft, silky, and he could almost imagine sifting the long, dark strands through his fingers—
He stirred his coffee for something safe to do with his hands and dragged his mind back in line again. ‘So how come he’s available this quickly? Usually if a tradesman’s any good, you have to wait weeks. Do you know him?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. He’s doing it as a favour to me, and he is good. He refitted my bathroom for me.’
‘Ah. Yes. Your lovely bathroom. I’m afraid I left it in a horrendous mess.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s fine, I’ll deal with it later.’
‘So did he charge a fortune, or did your landlord pay?’
‘Landlord? I don’t have a landlord,’ she said ruefully. ‘It’s my house, and he was very reasonable, as plumbers go.’
‘You’re buying it alone?’ he added, fishing, although it was none of his business and utterly irrelevant, he told himself firmly. He was not interested.
She nodded and pulled a face. ‘Although sometimes I wonder how I got myself in this situation. I must be mad. I wanted my own house because I was fed up with unscrupulous landlords but I’m not quite convinced I’m really grown up enough!’
Oh, he was sure she was. She was certainly grown up enough to satisfy his frankly adolescent fantasies, he thought. She was biting into the sticky bun again and it was giving him heart failure watching her lick her lips.
And they were colleagues and neighbours? Sheesh, he thought, and was hauling his mind back to work when she spoke again.
‘So how about you?’ she asked, her clear green eyes studying him curiously. ‘I mean, you’re a consultant, so clearly you’re old enough to have a house, but—well, without being rude, what’s a consultant doing buying a run-down little semi in a place like Yoxburgh?’
Good question—and one he had no intention of answering, but at least it had dragged his mind out of the gutter. ‘What’s wrong with Yoxburgh?’
She shrugged. ‘Nothing. I love it. It’s got the best of both worlds—good hospital, nice community, the sea, the countryside—it’s a lovely town.’
‘Exactly. So why should I be flawed for wanting to be here?’ he asked, curious himself and trying to divert attention back to her and off his personal life.
‘Oh, no reason. It’s not Yoxburgh, really. It was just—I would have expected you to have a better house. Bigger. More in keeping …’ She trailed to a halt, as if she felt she’d overstepped the mark—which she probably had, but she’d rescued him before six o’clock in the morning without batting an eyelid, lent him her shower, cleared up his mess, got him a plumber …
‘I’m divorced,’ he admitted softly, surprising himself that he was giving so much away to her, and yet oddly knowing it was safe to do so. ‘And it might be modest, but the house suits my needs perfectly—or it will, when the plumber’s been and I’ve thrown a whole lot of money at it. Besides, maybe I don’t want to live in anything flashy and ostentatious—more “in keeping”,’ he added, making little air quotes with his fingers.
She coloured slightly, her thoughts chasing each other transparently through her eyes, and he had to stifle a smile as she gathered herself up and sucked in a breath.
‘Sorry. None of my business,’ she said hastily. ‘And talking of suits, I dropped yours into the dry cleaners in the main reception on the way in, and it’ll be ready at five—and before you panic, I told them to take good care of it.’
‘Chasing brownie points, Daisy?’ he murmured, and she laughed.
‘Hardly. I didn’t know who you were then. I’m just a nice person.’
‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘Not that nice. I’ve still got my eye on dinner,’ she said with a teasing grin that diverted the blood from his brain, and he wondered how the hell he was going to keep this sudden and unwanted attraction in its box.
With huge difficulty. Damn.
He turned his attention back to his coffee, and then she said quietly, ‘Thanks for covering for me so smoothly, by the way. Evan’s a stickler for punctuality, and he was getting all ready to flay me later.’
‘It was the least I could do. I was hardly going to throw you to the wolves for bailing me out—literally! And Evan doesn’t strike me as the friendliest of characters. He was pretty dismissive when you asked about that patient.’
A flicker of what could have been worry showed in her eyes. ‘Oh, he’s OK really. He can come over as a patronising jerk, but he’s a good doctor. He’s just a bit miffed that you got the job, I think. He was advised to apply for it, and I reckon he thought it was a shoo-in.’
‘And then they had to advertise it by law, and I applied. And with all due respect to Evan, I would imagine my CV knocks spots off his.’
‘Exactly. So he won’t welcome you with open arms, but you should be able to rely on him.’
He gave a choked laugh. ‘Well, that’s good to know.’
Her mouth twitched, and those mischievous green eyes were twinkling at him again. ‘So, I hope you’ve got some good ideas about what I was supposedly doing for you?’
He leant back in his chair and met her eyes with a twinkle of his own. ‘Oh, let’s say finding me some statistics on twins on the antenatal list. That should cover it. Anyway, I thought it was pretty good for a spur-of-the-moment thing. Sorry if it sounded a bit patronising, but I thought it was better than explaining I’d already had a shower in your bathroom,’ he said softly, and then felt his legs disintegrate when a soft wash of colour touched her cheeks.
He cleared his throat.
‘Tell me about Yoxburgh Park Hospital,’ he suggested hastily, and she collected herself and gave a tiny shrug.
‘It’s old and new, it’s on the site of the old lunatic asylum—’
‘How delightfully politically incorrect,’ he said drily, and she chuckled.
‘Isn’t it? Nearly as politically incorrect as locking up fifteen-year-old girls because their fathers or brothers had got them knocked up and if they were put away here for life then the family could pretend they’d gone mad and carry on as normal.’
‘Lovely.’
‘It was. It was a workhouse, really, and the pauper lunatic label was just a way of covering up what they were doing, apparently. I mean, who’s going to go near a lunatic asylum? You might end up inside, and so they got away with murder, literally. But life was cheap then, wasn’t it?’
‘So was building, which I guess is why the old Victorian part is so magnificent.’
‘Oh, absolutely, and the other plus side is that because they wanted it isolated, we’ve got glorious parkland all around us, tons of parking and plenty of room to expand. The locals have access to it for recreation, we have a lovely outlook—it couldn’t be better, and the hospital’s great. Quite a few areas of it are brand new and state of the art, like the maternity wing, and it’s earning an excellent reputation. We’ve got a bit of everything, but it’s still small enough to be friendly and it’s a good place to work. Everybody knows everybody.’
‘Is that necessarily a good thing?’
She gave a wry smile. ‘Not always. You wait till they find out we’re neighbours, for instance.’
‘You think they will?’
She laughed. ‘I give it three days—maybe less.’
Oh, that laugh! Musical, infectious—it was going to kill him. And then she flicked the tip of her tongue out and licked the icing off her lips, and his eyes zeroed in on them and locked.
‘So—guided tour?’ he suggested hastily, because if he had to sit there opposite her for very many more minutes, he was going to have to strap his hands down by his sides to stop himself reaching out and lifting that tiny smear of icing off the corner of her mouth with his fingertip.
‘Sure. Where do you want to start?’
‘Maternity Outpatients?’ he suggested wryly. ‘Then you can ask about the twins, so it’s not a lie, and there’s an antenatal clinic with my name on it later today, so
I’m told, and it would look better if I could find it.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Can’t have me turning up late, clearly. Evan would have a field day with it.’
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS a hectic day, with very little time to think about her new boss and neighbour.
She took Ben for a quick walk through the hospital—the antenatal clinic, as they’d discussed, and other key areas that he might need to visit as well as the location of the dry cleaners, and then armed with the twin statistics she took him back to the maternity unit and gave him a lightning tour of the department—the gynae, antenatal and postnatal wards, the labour ward, the theatre suite, SCBU as well, just for information, and then handed him over to Evan Jones on the dot of nine thirty and went back to the gynae ward to check her patients from last week. She had three to discharge before the afternoon antenatal clinic, then it was back to the antenatal ward and the young first-time mum with pre-eclampsia that she’d been worrying about.
Evan had said he’d already looked at her, but she wanted to see with her own eyes, and she was glad she did. Clare wasn’t looking so great. Her blood pressure was up, her feet and hands were more swollen and she was complaining of a slight headache.
Daisy had thought they should deliver her on Friday, Evan had wanted to give her longer for the sake of the baby. He’d won. And now it was looking as if it might have been the wrong thing to do.
‘Right, I want you much quieter,’ she told her softly, perching on the bed and taking Clare’s hand. ‘I guess you’ve had a bit of a busy weekend, and we’re going to have to slow things down for you and make you rest much more. So the telly’s going, the visits are down to hubby only, once a day, and I really want you to sleep, OK?’
‘I can’t. I’m too scared.’
‘You don’t need to be scared. We’re taking good care of you, and all you need to do is relax, Clare. I know it’s hard, but you just have to try and find that quiet place and let go, OK? Try for me?’
She nodded, rested her head back and closed her eyes.
‘Good girl. We’ll keep a close eye on you, and I’m tweaking your drugs a bit, and you should feel better soon. If anything changes or you feel unwell, press the bell, and I don’t want you out of bed for anything. OK?’
Clare nodded again, and Daisy left the room, closing the door silently behind her, and was repositioning the ‘Quiet, Please’ sign more prominently when she became aware of someone behind her.
