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‘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 (#ulink_756a68a1-e046-5796-ae79-1d62f3995e7e)
‘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.
