Healing Her Emergency Doc
Auteur·e
Caroline Anderson
Lectures
18,3K
Chapitres
9
CHAPTER ONE
‘LAURA?’
The voice was deep, soft, and weirdly familiar. She hadn’t heard it for years, but it still made her heart tumble in her chest.
No. It can’t be...
But her heart was doing a little jig behind her ribs as if it knew better, and she felt suddenly dizzy and light-headed.
Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just low blood sugar. Or interview nerves. And anyway, it won’t be him. Not here...
Slowly, reluctantly, she looked up and met those totally unforgettable slate grey eyes. Eyes that had teased, and laughed, and—just that once—burned for her.
But not now. Right now they looked a little stunned. She knew how that felt.
What’s he doing here?
The interview? No—but why else would he be wearing a suit? And if he was in the running, she was scuppered. He was too good—too convincing. He should have been a salesman, not a doctor. He could convince anyone of anything, and the interview panel would fall for it, just like they all did. Like she had.
Almost... But she hadn’t made it easy for him.
She’d turned him down over and over again for the whole of their medical degree course, but rejection had been a bit of a novelty for Tom ‘Mr Popularity’ Stryker and he wasn’t a quitter, so it had turned into a sort of game. He’d ask, she’d say no.
It had taken him five years of persistence, but at the Leavers’ Ball he’d had one last go, cranked up the charm to full volume and pulled out all the stops, and he’d almost convinced her to go home with him. Almost.
She hadn’t seen him since that night, but just remembering it made her squirm. Awkward wasn’t in it.
Please don’t bring it up.
Surely he wouldn’t, not here. Maybe he wouldn’t. He was smiling at her now, the warm, effortlessly sexy smile that had always made her stomach turn over and her heart beat a little faster. So that hadn’t changed, then.
Why aren’t I over you?
Her breath locked in her throat, and she dredged up what was probably a very unconvincing smile and found her voice at last. ‘Tom. What are you doing here?’
Stupid, inane question.
His mouth quirked, his smile wry now.
‘Do I really need to answer that?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Probably not.’
He gave a soft huff of laughter, and dropped casually into the seat next to hers—not that there was a lot of choice as it was the only free seat in the small waiting area—and she shifted slightly away from him, because the scent drifting from his body brought back memories she would rather have forgotten.
Memories that had haunted her dreams for the last seven years while her imagination had tried to fill in the blanks.
‘So, how are you?’ he asked, and she swallowed.
‘I’m...’ What? Achingly lonely? A little lost since her grandfather died? Happy at work, but only then?
‘I’m OK. Busy.’ At least it wasn’t a lie, although she’d be more OK if she could land this senior Specialty Registrar job in the Emergency Department she’d been working in for months, and he’d just messed that up for her. ‘How about you?’
‘Oh, I’m good,’ he said. ‘Busy, of course, like you, but it goes with the territory, I guess. So what have you been up to since uni? Presumably not married with three kids if you’re going after a senior post.’
‘No, no kids, I’m still single.’ Or single again, since she’d dropped everything and come hotfoot to Suffolk, but she wasn’t going to raise that, and anyway, she was more interested in him. ‘How about you? Did you finally settle down?’ she asked, to shift the conversation away from herself, and then regretted showing the slightest sign of curiosity. Not that she didn’t want to know...
But his mouth tightened into what could barely be called a smile and those incredibly expressive eyes went blank.
‘Oh, you know me, I’m a free spirit,’ he said, his voice light and breezy and oddly unconvincing as he glanced away.
There was a whole world left unsaid, but he clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Because he’d just come out of a messy relationship, too? She could understand that. She didn’t want to talk about hers, either. They were both allowed their privacy, but it must have been pretty bad, because the Tom she knew would never leave London without a very good reason.
‘So, where are you working now?’ he asked, lobbing the ball firmly back into her court, but she wasn’t about to tell him. On a need-to-know basis, he frankly didn’t, and she wanted to keep this as impersonal as possible, so she stuck to the bare bones of the truth.
‘Nowhere permanent at the moment. I’ve been doing a bit of locuming for a while, off and on.’
He frowned, his brows pleating together slightly as he looked back at her. ‘Locuming? That doesn’t sound like you. I thought you always wanted security?’
Trust him to get straight to the heart of it. She slapped on a smile and kept her voice deliberately light and airy as he’d done. ‘I do, but I needed a break. I never had a gap year, so why not? But it’s been nearly a year now, so it’s probably time to get back to focusing on my career.’
He cocked his head on one side and studied her, looking unconvinced. ‘You took a year out at this stage? Was that wise?’
She looked away. ‘It was for me.’
‘So is that what this is about, this interview? Getting back on track?’
‘Pretty much,’ she said, wondering when being economical with the truth morphed into a lie. ‘Plus I need to earn a living and having a regular income is quite handy like that.’
He chuckled, suddenly looking more like the Tom she remembered, his eyes crinkling at the corners. They’d always done that, and she hated the effect it was having on her. That it had always had on her. ‘So how about you?’ she asked, still insanely curious about him leaving London. ‘Why are you after this job in particular?’
He shrugged. ‘Next step on the career ladder, nice place, good hospital—why not? Same reasons as you, I guess. So where are you living now?’ he added, his breath drifting against her face, trailing over it like the touch of a feather and making all her nerve endings dance.
She ignored it, wondering what to tell him. Not too much. Not all of it. She settled on fact—economy with the truth again. ‘At home—in my grandfather’s house.’
He nodded slowly. ‘That makes sense. How is he?’
She looked away, knowing her eyes would be raw with the pain of loss and really, really not wanting to go there. Not today of all days, with her interview looming. ‘He’s been ill, but he’s—OK.’ Now it’s over...
The meeting room door opened and James, the ED clinical lead, ushered the first candidate out and looked round. ‘Thomas Stryker?’
‘Good luck,’ she said mechanically, and he got to his feet.
‘You know you don’t mean that,’ he murmured with a wry smile tugging at his ridiculously beautiful mouth, and turned towards James, the smile widening.
‘Hi. I’m Tom.’
‘James Slater. Come on in, Tom.’
The door to the meeting room closed behind them, and she stared at it, her shoulders slumping in despair.
He’ll get it. He’s bound to. Why didn’t I do more interview prep? For all the difference it’ll make, with him in the running.
That would teach her to take things for granted, but she hadn’t been alone. She’d bumped into Matt Hunter yesterday when he’d come down to the ED, and he’d wished her luck. ‘Livvy says you’ll smash it,’ he’d told her, and she’d laughed. ‘Your wife’s just being nice,’ she’d told him, but he’d shaken his head. ‘No, she meant it. She says you’re a great doctor and a real asset to the department, and James agrees. You’ll get it, Laura. You’re too good to lose. We need people like you here.’
She’d believed him at the time, but not any more. She looked at the other two candidates. One looked terrified, the other bored and fidgety. The one who’d just come out had looked near to tears. She might have stood a chance against them, but now...
Now, there was Tom, always smiling, always up for whatever challenge/opportunity/pretty girl/party presented itself. He’d aced his medical degree, presumably sailed through the early years of Foundation training and after another five years was now a prime candidate for the vacant senior SpR post in the ED at Yoxburgh Park Hospital. The role she’d hoped would be hers, the job she so desperately needed so she could stay here in her grandfather’s house, with Millie.
The job she’d been told by James Slater to apply for, because it had her name written all over it.
Well, so it might have had, but James hadn’t met Tom then, of course, and Tom had that way of convincing people that they wanted all sorts of things that in their right minds they wouldn’t contemplate—although thankfully her common sense had rescued her from that particular catastrophe.
The door opened again, and her head snapped up. She could hear him laughing, hear the smile in his voice as he thanked them, almost smell the success on him as he walked confidently out of the room and took his seat again beside her.
‘You look happy,’ she said, forcing a smile, and he grinned.
‘Well, I got through to the second round, so I’m not unhappy,’ he said softly, and then studied her searchingly, his brows pleating together. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Of course.’ She looked away before he could read the lie in her eyes. ‘It’s just a little—awkward. It’s the last place I would have expected you to look for a job.’
‘Why? It’s hardly outer Mongolia.’
‘It’s not London, either, so it just feels a bit weird that you’re here. It’s not like you to go provincial.’
She could feel him still studying her, his eyes boring through into her brain, trying to read her mind.
‘It’s not that that’s bugging you. It’s us.’
‘There is—was—no us.’
The soft huff of his laugh drifted across her skin, teasing her nerve endings.
‘No, there wasn’t, was there? And you’re still feeling guilty about that,’ he murmured slowly, and she could hear the laughter in his voice.
‘Why should I feel guilty?’ she muttered, and she felt her skin tingle as he laughed again. She could feel him studying her intently, and she had to force herself to sit still.
‘You tell me.’ His voice dropped another notch and the laughter disappeared. ‘Why did you run away?’
Really? Here and now? Because she was so not going into it here.
‘I didn’t—’
‘Laura Kemp?’
Saved. Bless James and his timing. She leapt to her feet.
‘Good luck.’
He really didn’t mean it, either. He was only being polite, just as she’d been, but she thanked him anyway and walked towards James, her legs oddly wobbly and James’s smile of encouragement not really working, because he was only part of a panel and they had to go for the best person for the job.
Had to. And it wouldn’t be her. Not in a million years, not with Tom in the line-up, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. No way. If he got this job over her, it was going to be because he’d earned it, not because she’d given it away.
She straightened her spine, pinned on her best game face and walked into the interview with her head held high.
Tom watched the door close behind her and blew out a long, silent breath, feeling the tension drain out of him.
Of all the people to run into, and of all the times, just when his life had fallen apart and he was looking for a fresh start. The last thing he needed was that kind of distraction—although judging by the way she’d reacted to him, it seemed highly unlikely that she’d want to turn back the clock to a relationship that had never even got past first base.
She was right, it was awkward. Very awkward, not only because of the job, but because of the way they’d left it.
Or rather, she’d left it.
He’d asked her out so many times, and every time she’d laughed at him and brushed him aside with a joke at his expense, so he hadn’t really believed it when she’d gone with him to the Leavers’ Ball. It was his last opportunity to get her to change her mind about him before they all went their separate ways and he lost her for ever, and it had felt like the start of something real between them, something genuine and heartfelt.
They’d danced all night, the tension between them winding tighter and tighter with every brush of their bodies, and at the end he’d asked her to go home with him. He’d been stunned when she’d said yes, and then at the last minute she’d changed her mind and called a taxi, so he’d gone back to his flat to nurse his battered ego and try to work out why. What had he done wrong?
Nothing, probably, and it was a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, but she hadn’t given him any clues, so he still didn’t know why. He didn’t know why it mattered so much, either, but apparently it did, and seeing her again had done nothing but stir it up all over again.
He could have asked her at the time, but he hadn’t tried to contact her. That would have looked desperate and there was no way he’d been going there, so he’d decided to wait and see how she played it the next time they ran into each other.
Only they never had because she’d gone home the next day without even saying goodbye.
And that was it. No more Laura, taunting him from afar with her quiet ways and refusal to play. No more jokey put-downs, no more bumping into her in the library—nothing. He hadn’t seen her again until today, and it had awakened all sorts of not very comfortable memories.
Where had she been? What had she done for the past seven years? And why on earth was she locuming? That didn’t sound like much of a gap year, so why had she needed a break?
Not that he could talk. He’d ditched his job in London and was walking away from his entire life without a backward glance after it had all gone wrong. Maybe she’d felt the same?
None of your business.
He hauled in a breath and stood up. He didn’t need to wait there. He’d been asked to come back at two thirty for the second round of interviews, and it was only eleven now. He could go for a wander, take a look around the seaside town, see what he thought of it. He’d never been to Yoxburgh before. It could be interesting to see what his future home might be like.
The interview was as awful as she’d expected.
They asked her all the usual horrible questions that relied on bigging herself up, not something she was fond of, and interrogated her on a million clinical and ethical aspects of her role that she was more comfortable with, but it was gruelling and she was just glad when it was over. Well, until this afternoon when she had to do it all over again, apparently, but at least she’d got through to the second round. Like Tom.
He seemed to have disappeared, to her relief, so she didn’t have to face him again for the next three hours. She’d have time to take Millie for a nice walk on the cliff top, then back home for lunch before it all kicked off again this afternoon. Maybe by then she’d get her composure back.
She let herself in and Millie was there to greet her, wafting her tail and smiling in the way that only Golden Retrievers seem to do, and she felt her angst melt away.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she said softly, reaching down and smoothing the soft, silky head that pressed into her hand. She started to lean and Laura stepped away.
‘Not on my interview trousers. I know you and your hair. I need to change, OK? Then we can have a cuddle.’
Millie followed her into the bedroom and hopped on the bed, flopping down with a huge sigh with her head on her paws and watching patiently as Laura stripped off her clothes, pulled on jeans and a thick sweater and headed for the door again.
‘Come on, then. Let’s go.’
Millie leapt off the bed and shot past, her tail waving like a plume as she waited at the door for Laura to join her, the lead in her mouth at the ready. Laura clipped it on and they set off, with Millie walking beautifully by her side.
She’d been the best guide dog, the kindest, sweetest friend, the dearest companion to her grandfather, and now to her. She was so glad she’d been allowed to keep her, because there’d been days when Millie was the only thing that had got her out of bed, the only thing worth living for, and she didn’t know what would happen to them if Tom got the post and she ended up with nothing.
She couldn’t stay here without a job, so she’d either have to let the house or sell it. Either possibility broke her heart, for Millie as much as for herself. It was their home, the only real home she’d ever known, the only link either of them had to her grandfather. And whatever she ended up doing, wherever they went, she’d have to clear the house of all his possessions.
Starting with ten thousand books, at the last count, but there were probably more by now. Not that he’d been able to read for years, even with a magnifying glass and a light. He’d known each book, though. Where it was, what was in it. And sometimes she’d had to thumb through a book to remind him of something—a quote, some remote fact, the answer to one of her endless questions.
Oh, how she missed him. That brilliant mind, the quiet humour, the gentleness as he’d guided her through the rocky teenage years into adulthood while her mother ricocheted through life like a stray bullet, damaging everyone in her path—
Millie suddenly swung across and blocked her legs as a car shot out of a driveway in front of her. She hadn’t heard or seen it, hadn’t even been aware of her surroundings, but Millie had, and by snapping back into guide dog mode, she’d probably saved her life.
‘You’re such a good girl,’ she said softly, reaching down to touch the warm, sensible head with a suddenly shaky hand. She sniffed and scrubbed the tears off her cheeks, and straightened up. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go.’
Millie trotted along beside her, then sat at the kerb, and as they crossed to the other side she saw Tom walking towards them, absolutely the last person she wanted to see while she was having a wobble, but there was no polite way to avoid him and anyway, he’d already spotted them.
‘Hi, there,’ he murmured, then looked down, a smile softening his face. ‘Well, look at you, aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing?’
He held a hand out for Millie to sniff, her tail waving in a friendly greeting as he bent and tickled her chest, prompting her to lean firmly against his dark suit trousers. Oops.
‘So what’s your name, pretty lady?’
‘Millie. She was my grandfather’s dog.’
He straightened up slowly and searched her eyes, his steady gaze thoughtful. ‘Was?’ he asked softly after a moment, and she realised what she’d said.
‘Is...’ And then, because she didn’t lie and it was a bit late to be economical with the truth, she let out a quiet breath and went on, ‘Was. He died four months ago, at the end of October. He had a stroke last March, then another, and he just faded away. That’s what I meant by OK, because he hated it and now it’s over and he’s at peace.’
His eyes creased in sympathy. ‘Oh, Laura. That’s tough.’
Nothing else, to her relief; no platitudes, nothing about a blessed release or how was she coping or any of the other things she didn’t want to hear.
She nodded. ‘It is. But we’re getting there, aren’t we, Millie?’ She turned her attention to the dog, anything rather than look any longer into those sympathetic, beautiful eyes. She didn’t want his sympathy. Didn’t want anything from him. What was he even doing here in Yoxburgh? He was a party animal! There were no wild parties in Yoxburgh, just the odd beach barbecue. Unless he knew something she didn’t.
The silence hung in the air between them, and she finally broke it. ‘I need to take Millie for a run on the cliff top. I’ll see you later. Millie, let’s go.’
It was a clear dismissal, but he ignored it, because he’d seen the grief in her eyes, still raw, and he knew how much her grandfather had meant to her. Maybe she needed to talk. It wouldn’t be the first time.
‘Can I tag along? I haven’t got as far as the sea yet.’
He fell into step beside her without waiting for her consent, but her shoulders stiffened, making him frown and reconsider.
She didn’t want him there.
Really, really didn’t want him there, and he didn’t want to make it any more awkward than it already was. He pulled out his phone, pretended to find a message and stopped walking.
‘Actually, sorry, I’m going to have to pass, I’ve got to deal with this. I’ll see you later at the hospital.’
‘OK.’
She sounded relieved, and he watched her go, but she didn’t so much as glance back. She let the dog off when she reached the grass verge on the other side of the road, throwing a ball for Millie over and over again until she lost interest, then walking on and heading down some steps out of sight.
He slid the phone back into his pocket and stared after her, feeling oddly unsettled.
He’d thought the awkwardness was about the way they’d parted, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t that she felt guilty—after all, what did she really have to feel guilty for? It wasn’t like she’d dumped him at the altar. Maybe it really was all about the job, the job she desperately needed to get her life back on track, and he was a threat to that, a very real threat in many ways.
Her childhood home was here, in Yoxburgh. Not only that, but judging by the familiar way James Slater had greeted her, she’d presumably been doing locum work in Yoxburgh Park Hospital so she could care for her grandfather after his stroke. No wonder she’d applied for the job. It must have felt made for her, hugely important to her future and security, and if he got it he’d take that away from her, so of course she didn’t want him there, with so much riding on it.
There wasn’t another hospital for miles, so if she didn’t get it she’d have to move away, and it could break her heart to leave. From what he remembered this was the only real home she’d ever known, and now he was here, rocking up out of nowhere to steal her job from under her and threaten her security.
Should he withdraw, find something else?
No. That was ridiculous. They might not even offer it to him, and if they offered it to someone else, they wouldn’t turn it down because of her. Why would they? That was crazy—and anyway, he wanted it. Needed it, every bit as much as she did. More, maybe.
He had to get out of London, away from everything that had happened, somewhere where the pace of life was slower and he could draw breath after a hideous year that had done its best to break him, both personally and professionally.
But what if he got it and it turned her life upside down? He could get a job anywhere. They were crying out for people like him, and he had no ties anywhere else, not any more. He could find somewhere else that was still reasonably near his family in Cambridge, but this place was all she had. He should withdraw, give her a better chance—
He gave a hollow laugh. That was a massive assumption. There was always the possibility she’d get the job over him, especially if she had been locuming there in the hospital. That would surely give her a head start, although they seemed to have quite a large field for the interviews. But James had definitely smiled at her very warmly, so it clearly wasn’t going to be a walk-over, even though he’d felt his interview had gone well.
Whatever. One more session to get through and he’d have his answer, and maybe he’d get a chance afterwards to talk to Laura. They’d been good friends, although he’d always wanted it to be more than that, and it would be good to mend fences.
He wished he knew why she’d changed her mind that night. Had he offended her in some way? In which case maybe he owed her an apology. He didn’t think she’d just got cold feet. She’d seemed every bit as keen as he was, and she’d been all over him while they were dancing. Unless she’d just been stringing him along for kicks, meaning to walk off all along?
No, that wasn’t Laura, not the Laura he knew, and it certainly wasn’t the way she’d kissed him back, either, but he still wanted to know why she’d walked away, and seven years didn’t seem to have made a scrap of difference to that.
They’d whittled it down to three candidates by the afternoon session: her; Steve, the fidgety, bored one; and Tom.
Of course Tom. That had always been a given.
Had she done all right? She wasn’t sure, but Tom would have aced it. She didn’t know about Steve, but he didn’t look any too happy.
Then, when they were all done, they were brought tea and biscuits, and after a while Steve was called in and left with a rueful wave to them. Then James came out with a wry smile.
‘Well, you two have given us a bit of a problem. In an ideal world we’d take you both on, but it isn’t an ideal world so, hard as it is, we have to make a decision and at the moment it’s too close to call. Is there any possibility you could come back tomorrow morning at ten to give us more time?’
Seriously?
‘Sure,’ she said, her nerves jangling, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Tom nod, his spontaneous smile at the ready.
‘Of course. No problem.’
‘Good. We’ll see you both here at ten tomorrow, then. Thank you.’
James went back into the meeting room and closed the door, and she stared at it, wondering how much longer it could possibly be before they put her out of her misery.
‘How long can they drag it out, for heaven’s sake?’ she said with a grumpy sigh, and he chuckled.
‘Who knows?’ he murmured, then looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’
No. And anyway, the last thing she needed was to spend any more time in Tom’s company. ‘We just had one.’
He smiled wryly. ‘So we did. How about a drink, then?’
‘A drink?’ she said, slightly stunned that he should even suggest it. ‘It’s a bit early.’
He raised an eyebrow and smiled again. ‘I meant later. We could catch up.’
Or talk about that night, which was hanging around like the elephant in the room. She looked away from those piercingly intense dark eyes, cross with herself for the pang of guilt she felt. Still felt. ‘Maybe I don’t want to talk about it?’
‘Talk about what?’
His voice was all innocence, and she rolled her eyes and gave a short sigh and he shrugged and smiled, his mouth hitching up in a way that made her heart thud.
‘OK, we don’t have to talk about that, but I have to go back to my hotel and check in again for another night, and then I’ll have the evening to kill. You could have dinner with me for old times’ sake?’
She stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Old times’ sake?’
‘Why not? I’ve missed you and your acerbic tongue.’
‘I don’t have—’
‘Oh, you do. I’ve still got the scars.’ His mouth tipped into a rueful smile, the sort that could unravel her in a heartbeat. ‘Come on. I promise I won’t raise the subject.’
She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she could feel herself weakening, just as she’d always weakened, but only to a point. And he was right, they had been friends and it would be churlish to refuse.
‘OK, but later. I need to go home and change, and Millie will need to be fed and walked, so I can’t come for a while.’
‘Let’s make it seven, then.’ He told her the hotel’s name and address, and she nodded.
‘I know where it is. I’ll see you in Reception.’
‘Make it the bar. That way I won’t look ridiculous when you don’t rock up because you’ve changed your mind.’
And he talked about her acerbic tongue?
He walked away with a cocky grin leaving her fuming at his little dig, and the door of the meeting room opened again and James came out.
‘Laura. Were you waiting to see me?’
‘No, Tom was talking to me but he’s just left.’
Right before I killed him...
James nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I guessed from your CVs that you’d know each other.’
‘Well, we did, but I haven’t seen him since uni.’ They’d even been housemates for a couple of years in the middle, but she wasn’t telling James that in case he got the wrong end of the stick. It was messy enough as it was.
James nodded again, then sighed. ‘Look, I’m really sorry about this, I hate protracting it but it’s not what I expected. Tom was a late applicant, and—well, he’s good. As good as you. We can’t ignore that.’
Of course they couldn’t. ‘Look, James, it’s OK,’ she lied. ‘I know you have to be absolutely sure.’
‘We are sure. We’re sure you’re both excellent candidates, in your different ways. That’s why it’s so hard.’
‘You could always just toss a coin.’
He smiled and shook his head ruefully. ‘Don’t joke about it, it’s been suggested, but no. I just wish we could have you both, because your skills and experience would complement each other, but...’
‘But you can’t. I know that. You don’t have the luxury of unlimited funding. It’s OK, James, I understand. Do what you have to do and don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right whatever happens. We both will. There are plenty of other jobs out there. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
He nodded and she turned away, heading for the lift down to the ground floor. She had to get back to Millie, especially if she was going out again in two hours. Not that she wanted to. Just the thought of spending time alone with him made her edgy, but he’d promised he wasn’t going to raise the subject of that night.
Did she believe him? Probably not, but he was right, they had been friends, and she did owe him an apology for the way she’d left it.
Even if he was about to steal the job she’d hoped was hers and trash the future she’d dared to dream of...
