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Serena nodded.
‘And is it a problem for him?’
‘No. He was pretty sensitive about it,’ Serena admitted.
Carolyn gave her a hug. ‘Not all men are like Jason, you know.’
‘I know.’
‘And you haven’t dated in—well, since Jason.’
Seven years ago. That was the last time she’d been out with a man who wasn’t Jason. Jason had walked out on her almost two years after their first date; in the five years since then, she hadn’t dated at all. She sighed. ‘That’s half the problem, Mum. I don’t know how. I don’t know the rules of dating any more.’
‘I don’t think they’ve changed that much,’ Carolyn said gently. ‘Just be yourself and it’ll be fine.’
‘It won’t work, Mum.’
‘How do you know, if you don’t give it a chance?’
‘We’re from different worlds.’
Carolyn spread her hands. ‘And?’
‘I’m not really his type.’
‘He wouldn’t have asked you out if he didn’t like you for who you are,’ Carolyn pointed out. She stroked Serena’s hair away from her face. ‘Love, you give Ethan everything he needs and you’re a great mum. But you need to make some time for yourself as well. Between Ethan and work, there’s nothing left for you. And that isn’t healthy.’
Jess had said the same thing. Did her father and the rest of her colleagues think that, too? Serena wondered.
‘Do you like him?’ Carolyn asked.
That was the tough question. And Serena certainly wasn’t admitting that George made her heart miss a beat every time she saw him. Or that he’d completely melted her common sense with just one kiss. She could barely admit that to herself.
Carolyn smiled at her silence. ‘So you do like him. Otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned a word about it to me.’
Serena had no answer to that. She knew it was true.
‘So I take it you’re going to have lunch with him, then?’
‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’ The whole idea of it had her lost in confusion.
‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ Carolyn asked.
That she’d fall in love with George and he’d let her down. That he’d break her heart, the way Jason had. That he’d walk out on her when she needed him most.
As if the whole thing had been perfectly readable on her face, Carolyn patted her hand. ‘The whole world won’t suddenly go down with the plague if you have lunch with a man, love.’
‘I guess not.’
‘You might discover that you don’t have anything in common and he’s really boring. Or you might discover that he’s actually really nice and you’d like to see a bit more of him. But the only way you’ll find out for sure is to go and have lunch with him.’
It was tempting. So very, very tempting.
And Serena had nearly a week to think about it. A week where George Somers and his beautiful mouth occupied every moment when she wasn’t busy with a patient or with her son. And even then she was guiltily aware of drifting off into a daydream when she was supposed to be concentrating on writing up her notes. Especially as it took her nearly a week to finish the chocolates, they were so rich—and every single one of them made her think of kissing him. Of the way he’d scrambled her brains.
But in the end, on the Monday morning, she chickened out. As much as she wanted to see George again, he was just too dangerous for her peace of mind. She texted him at the beginning of her shift. Thank you for the offer of lunch tomorrow, but I’m afraid I can’t make it. Serena.
She gave no excuses, leaving him no opening for negotiation. And she deliberately didn’t give him an alternative, as he’d suggested.
Dating George Somers was a lovely daydream. But the reality would be something else. It could get complicated. Messy. So it was better not to start something they couldn’t finish. Much more sensible; and Serena was always sensible, nowadays. There was no way she’d let her little boy be caught in the middle of any emotional upheaval. He was too important.
Thank you for the offer of lunch tomorrow, but I’m afraid I can’t make it. Serena.
George stared at the message. He knew it was probably for the best. She was right in that they were from different worlds—and, the last time he’d tried dating someone not from his world, it had ended in misery for both of them. So he’d be better off just forgetting her.
Except he couldn’t.
That beautiful mouth haunted him. A couple of kisses just weren’t enough. He wanted to see those gorgeous green eyes glittering with laughter. And he wanted to feel her mouth on his again, explore her sweetness. Bring her out of herself and see just who she was behind her shell.
The sensible side of him knew he ought to leave it well alone.
The reckless side of him couldn’t possibly resist the challenge.
Serena always kept her phone off while she was at work; if there was an emergency at school, she knew that the teachers would ring through to Reception and her colleagues would pass on the message immediately. She switched her phone on again when her shift finished, and there were no beeps to say that she’d received any messages.
Oh.
So George hadn’t bothered replying to her text.
She stifled the faint ache of disappointment. Well, she’d been proved right. George hadn’t been that interested. Or maybe he’d been having second thoughts, too, and realised that she just wasn’t right for him; in which case her message must’ve been a welcome relief for him. And this feeling of being let down … well, that was plain ridiculous.
This was all for the best. She knew that.
But Serena still felt out of sorts the next day. It made her cross with herself; though she wasn’t sure if she was more cross with herself for being a coward and ducking out of the date in the first place, or for being light-headed enough to think that someone like George Somers would really want to date someone like her.
So she coped with it the way she always did, by throwing herself into work. Her first patient, Janet Riley, was a new patient and suffered from Parkinson’s.
Serena introduced herself with a smile. ‘Your consultant has sent you to me so I can assess your balance and mobility. I’m going to do something called a Berg test, which looks at a range of different movements—well, it’s called a test, but it isn’t anything that you’ll pass or fail. What it does is to help me see which things you find easy to do and which movements you find more difficult, so I can recommend support where you need it. It’ll be part of your annual assessments from now on, and today’s results will be a benchmark so we can see how and where things change, to make sure you get the right help you need.’
‘I’m fine, really. I don’t want to make a fuss,’ Janet said.
‘You’re not making a fuss,’ Serena reassured her. Though she knew where Janet was coming from. She didn’t like making a fuss, either. And she hated the fact that she still felt so thrown by George. That she was still wishing she’d been brave enough to have lunch with him, even though at the same time she knew she’d done the sensible thing.
She took Janet through the fourteen different tests. Moving from a sitting position to standing was a problem; Serena made a note for the occupational health team to look at the chairs at Janet’s home to see if they needed to be raised to make standing up easier, as well as possibly installing grab rails for the bathroom and toilet. Janet clearly also found it difficult to turn and look behind and to place an alternate foot on a stool—stairs might also need looking at, Serena noted. And retrieving an object from the floor took more effort and time than was comfortable for Janet.
‘We have group exercise sessions here especially for people who find balance a little tricky. I think you’d benefit from them,’ she said. ‘The exercises will help with your balance, strength and suppleness.’
‘But I’ve only just been diagnosed,’ Janet said.
‘That’s a good time to start,’ Serena said with a smile, ‘because it means we can keep you going at this level for a lot longer. We have several groups, all at different levels, so you won’t feel like the odd one out. Just come along to the first one and give it a try,’ she coaxed.
Janet bit her lip. ‘I don’t want to make a fuss.’
‘You’re not making a fuss,’ Serena reassured her again. ‘And the big thing is that it’ll help you keep your independence.’
Something that Serena herself valued highly—and something she’d find incredibly difficult to give up. Carving out a successful career as well as bringing up her son as a single parent meant that she was used to being in control. Having to lean on someone else now would be unthinkable.
Janet looked thoughtful. ‘So I won’t have to get people to do things for me.’
Just as Serena had hoped: this was the key. Janet needed to feel independent. ‘Exactly. It’ll give you a chance to do more things the way you want to do them.’ She smiled at the older woman. ‘And then you won’t have to bite your tongue and feel ungrateful when someone does something for you and they don’t do it to your standards.’
Janet looked relieved. ‘So it’s normal to feel like that? I’ve felt so mean-spirited.’
‘It’s perfectly normal. I’d be the same,’ Serena reassured her. ‘So will you give it a try?’
Janet nodded.
‘Great.’ Serena booked her in for the session, wrote out an appointment card for her, and then wrote up her notes before seeing her next patient.
Lenny Rivers had a Colles’ fracture of the wrist. The same injury as George; and Serena was cross with herself for thinking of him. She forced herself to be calm and patient as she explained to Lenny, ‘I need to check the movements of your shoulder, first, as it can be damaged by a fall on the hand. Has your arm been in a sling?’
‘Not as much as it should’ve been,’ Lenny admitted, looking faintly guilty.
She smiled. Given that his arm hadn’t been kept that immobile, his elbow wouldn’t be a problem. ‘Let’s have a look.’ She examined him gently; the colour of his skin looked fine and there was no abnormal swelling, so he was healing nicely. ‘Your skin’s a bit dry, but that’s really common after you’ve been in plaster. If you use a gentle moisturiser or baby oil on your skin, that will help get rid of the dryness. Have you been in any pain?’
‘Not really.’
‘Good. You might find you do get some swelling, so if that happens all you need to do is elevate your arm a bit, maybe put an ice pack for up to fifteen minutes, four times a day. Though make sure the ice isn’t straight against your skin, or you could burn it,’ she warned.
‘It feels a bit strange with the plaster off,’ Lenny said. ‘I’m a bit scared to use it, in case I hurt it again.’
‘I can give you a splint to help support it for the next couple of weeks,’ Serena said. ‘It will help you rest your wrist, but won’t restrict your movements.’
She recorded the rotatory movements of Lenny’s forearm, his wrist flexion and extension, and his finger and thumb movements. She could remember doing this with George; thinking of him made her heart sink. How stupid she’d been to think that George had been serious about wanting to see her. He was a playboy. She would’ve been a temporary distraction for him—and that wasn’t what she wanted. Though she didn’t want a serious relationship, either—because that would mean putting her trust in someone. And how could you trust a playboy not to let you down?
Forcing thoughts of George from her mind, she talked Lenny through the exercises. ‘I’m going to give you a leaflet with all the exercises and the advice I’ve given you today. The exercises are illustrated by photographs, so that’ll help you remember how to do them,’ she explained. ‘You need to do ten reps of each, three or four times a day.’
‘Before every meal and then just before bed?’
‘That sounds about perfect.’
He smiled. ‘I’ll do the first reps now, as it’s lunchtime.’
Yes, lunch that she was going to be spending on her own, at her desk. Which was her own fault; but it was better than the alternative. That she would’ve looked forward to lunch with George and he would’ve stood her up.
She wrote up Lenny’s notes, then checked her phone quickly before she went to the hospital canteen to grab a sandwich, and was shocked to see a text from George.
Even if you have back-to-back patients, you still need a break. I’ll bring lunch with me and wait for you in the waiting room.
What?
She stared at the phone, horror-stricken. He hadn’t replied to her text, so she’d been certain that he’d lost interest in her.
But it seemed that George was planning to meet her at work, completely ignoring her refusal.
Help. No way could George Somers sit in any kind of room without drawing attention to himself. He could be quietly reading a book or something, and women would still be staring at him. He had that kind of presence. If he was in the waiting room right now, he’d stand up to greet her the second she walked in.
People would notice.
People would talk.
The last thing she wanted was people gossiping about her. She just had to hope that George wasn’t already there. Especially as the time-stamp on the text told her he’d only just sent it.
She had to force herself to walk slowly into the waiting room, not to run in panic. To her relief, George wasn’t waiting there. She headed out past the reception desk and was just about to take her phone out of her bag and call him when she saw him walking down the corridor towards her.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘HI.’ GEORGE’s smile made Serena’s knees weak. ‘Busy morning?’
‘Yes.’ She dragged in a breath. She really hadn’t been expecting this. ‘George, I texted you. I said I couldn’t make lunch.’
‘True. But you didn’t give me an alternative date or tell me why you couldn’t make it.’ His eyes glittered. ‘So I guessed that you were actually free, but you’d panicked at the idea of having lunch with me and you’d chickened out.’
She had to admit it. Even though it was embarrassing and made her feel like a gawky teenager instead of a sensible thirty-year-old. ‘Yes,’ she muttered, feeling colour flood into her face.
‘Just as well I’m brave enough for both of us, then,’ he said lightly. ‘I brought some lunch. I thought we could have a picnic in the park opposite the hospital.’
She noticed then that he was carrying a small wicker basket and a blanket. This clearly hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision to grab a couple of sandwiches, some fruit and a drink from a shop and then head out into the sunshine. To bring a wicker basket—the sort that looked as if it contained proper cutlery and crockery, as well as food—meant that he must have planned this. ‘You brought a picnic?’ Stupid question. It was obvious. But she didn’t know what else to say.
He shrugged. ‘It seemed like the best solution, in case you were short on time.’
And it also made it difficult—practically impossible—for her to refuse to have lunch with him now.
‘How long have you got until your next appointment?’ he asked.
‘Just over half an hour.’
‘OK. That gives us five minutes to find a nice spot, twenty minutes to eat, and five minutes to walk back so you’re not late for work.’
She appreciated the fact that he took her work seriously and wasn’t expecting her to play hooky just to indulge him. But all the same … ‘George, I know this is really rude of me, and I’m sorry about that, but I just don’t understand why you’re here.’
‘To have lunch with you. As we agreed last week.’
Until she’d backed out. ‘But why me?’ That was what she couldn’t understand. She didn’t belong in his world. ‘Apart from the fact you date a different woman every week, I’m not exactly your type.’
‘Firstly, I don’t date anywhere near as many women as the gossip rags make out; and, secondly, when it comes to you being my type, allow me to be the judge of that.’ He gave her another of the knee-melting smiles. ‘You intrigue me, Serena.’
‘Because I turned you down, and you’re not used to that?’
