The first thing to fall out was her wedding ring, which she’d once so proudly worn. And then she took out an exercise book she’d kept from school—one that Dominic had written his phone number on. There were lots of little messages he’d written to her in class too, but she could read the true intent behind them now.
What time will your dad be back?
So they could have sex.
I got them!
Condoms—so they could have sex.
Has it finished yet?
Her period—so they could have sex.
Teenaged Dominic Hadley really had had sex on his mind—and fool that she was, she’d confused it with love.
Well, no more.
She fed the exercise book into the shredder, page after page, and cried bitter tears as she did it. Then she took out their wedding photo, but could not bring herself to shred that.
There were also certificates—marriage, birth, death and divorce—and those papers were such a neat summing up of their relationship that she could not bear to look at them properly.
And then she got to the photos Dominic wanted. It twisted like a knife in her gut to look at them, but they also made her smile.
There was one photo of the three of them, sitting on the bed, with Rachel holding Christopher and Dominic’s arm around her.
And there were several of just Christopher.
She touched his pinched little face and open mouth, his long slender fingers, the fine fuzz of hair on his head.
She would get these reprinted and give them to Dominic, and then all would finally be said and done between them.
No, there had been no need to take off her coat, because in minutes she was out of the door again.
Always be kind.
It was a saying often bandied about, but that evening, when someone tutted as she knocked into them while lining up to print off the photos for Dominic, the snap of a stranger’s temper nearly had Rachel giving in and turning to run for home. That single terse ‘tut’ just about had her heading for King’s Cross Station and the first train back to Sheffield, but instead she got the photos copied and was soon back at her flat.
Job done.
When she’d given them to Dominic there would be nothing more to discuss, no more conversations to be had, and the subject of their past would be entirely closed.
Rachel sealed the envelope and labelled it Photos, and then put it in her bag. Now she just had to give them to him when the chance arose.
* * *
Except it never arose.
For the first time in her career, Rachel started to put her hand up to work in Minor Injuries rather than the main section of Emergency or Resus.
There was less chance of seeing Dominic there.
‘How did you do this?’ Rachel asked as she pulled on gloves and peeled back the tea towel wrapped around the hand of a delightful elderly woman who had brought herself to The Primary on a bus.
‘Peeling and cutting up pumpkins,’ said Miss Tate. ‘I make soup for the homeless, and pumpkin soup is supposed to be easy. But, Nurse, they’re really hard to cut.’
‘I bet they are.’
‘But it’s a flexible soup.’
‘Flexible?’ Rachel checked as she examined the deep cut and saw the exposed tendons.
‘Vegan, gluten-free, nut-free...’ Miss Tate reeled them all off. ‘And don’t get me started on the health and safety regulations. It’s wearing gloves that caused this to happen—I couldn’t get a grip of the knife. In my day you just put a bone in a pot, but it’s a complicated affair now, making soup.’
As well as hazardous, Rachel thought, picturing these shaky arthritic hands wrestling with a large knife and a pumpkin.
She looked at her patient, and saw that Miss Tate was a little bit grey and was sweating. ‘It’s rather a long wait,’ Rachel said, ‘but I can get you on a gurney and lying down...’
‘I don’t mind waiting.’
‘Well, let’s make you as comfortable as we can. Is there anyone I can call?’
‘No need to trouble anyone.’
Rachel looked up as the curtain swished open and saw May.
‘I just need a word, Rachel,’ she said.
She paused when she saw what Rachel was dealing with and, instead of insisting on having a conversation, gave Rachel a hand with Miss Tate, chatting away about the pumpkin disaster as they got her up onto a trolley and into a gown.
‘Chilli flakes are the secret ingredient to a good soup,’ Miss Tate said.
‘Ah, but I don’t like it too spicy.’ May shook her head.
‘No, just a little pinch—it brings out all the flavours.’
‘Could you not roast the pumpkin first and then cut it up?’ May suggested.
‘Oh!’ Miss Tate dwelled on that suggestion for a moment. ‘I think that might work. Roast pumpkin soup...that sounds very nice.’
With the soup and the patient sorted for now, May pulled Rachel aside. ‘We’ll miss you tomorrow night,’ she said.
Rachel had taken her name off the list for the ED night out. She had come up with loads of excuses to justify it, but mainly it was because she did not want to see Dominic socially.
‘I’ve got your deposit for you,’ May said, handing her an envelope.
‘I thought it was non-refundable.’
‘I always say that,’ May admitted, ‘but we’ve got plenty going, so the numbers are fine. It’s a shame, though. I was looking forward to meeting your man... What’s his name?’
‘Gordon.’ Rachel smiled, because if she’d told May once, then she’d told her fifty times. Still, there was something she hadn’t yet told her and there was no time like the present. ‘May, Gordon and I have broken up.’
‘Oh, my dear! When did that happen?’
‘A little while ago. I didn’t say anything at the time, because, well...’
‘Of course not. You needed time to process it.’ May was serious now. ‘Does it change anything? I mean, I know you moved to London because of his job. Are we going to lose you, Rachel?’
‘I don’t honestly know, May.’ Rachel told her the truth she was coming to know. ‘The flat’s too expensive for only me. If I stay then I’m going to have to find somewhere else.’
And, while she liked London, with Dominic so near it was hell. If she was going to have to find somewhere else to live, why not in Sheffield, where her family and friends were?
Well away from Dominic.
She couldn’t hide in Minor Injuries for ever. And Rachel knew she was hiding.
‘You’re still on a trial, Rachel, so you only have to give a week’s notice, but for what it’s worth, I’d be very sorry to lose you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Listen,’ May said. ‘Do you want a shift tomorrow night? I’m having trouble covering the department, what with everyone coming for this night out, and I’ve had someone ring in sick.’
‘I’d love to,’ Rachel said. She’d been about to ask May if there were any extra shifts, but the overtime for a Saturday night would certainly help.
For now.
Rachel knew she would have to make a decision soon about staying.
And, despite May’s kind words, it was starting to look very unlikely.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DOMINIC KNEW HE had to get Rachel out of his head. And he decided it would be best to do it in a way he knew only too well. He would lose himself in a woman’s body.
Since Rachel had been back on the scene there had been none of that.
None.
He knew Rachel had put her name down to be at this social event tonight, but he had decided it was time to set new ground rules. Tonight, he fully intended to rediscover the joys of being single and commitment-free and to indulge in some completely meaningless sex.
Dominic
was usually very good at that.
‘Dominic! Over here!’
His name was being called from a couple of directions, but Tara waved for him to take the empty seat she had kept for him. They weren’t an item, although they’d got it on at times, but instead of joining her, he gave a vague nod as his eyes scanned the room.
Rachel wasn’t here, he realised.
He ignored the gritting of his jaw when the flash of red hair, which his eyes reluctantly sought, didn’t appear.
Good! he told himself, refusing to acknowledge that the thud in his chest might be born of disappointment rather than relief.
Good, he said again, to himself. It was excellent that his ex-wife wasn’t here, policing his moves.
Except instead of heading over to sit beside Tara, he moved towards the empty seat next to Jordan. They went way back, and had been through medical school together. Dominic had even been best man at his wedding.
‘No Heather?’
‘Nope.’
‘Mind if I join you, then?’
‘Of course. The babysitter cancelled,’ Jordan explained as Dominic took a seat, ‘and frankly I don’t blame her.’
‘Are the twins still wild, then?’
‘Completely.’ Jordan nodded. ‘And Nicholas is following their lead.’
‘Sounds like you need a night off,’ Dominic said.
He knew very well that Jordan was stressed about some upcoming changes to the paediatric unit, as well as bogged down with work, so adding a young family to that mix must only increase the burden.
‘I don’t know how you do it all.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Jordan said as the starter was served.
The saganaki was the best Dominic had tasted, yet he pushed it around his plate, for once not particularly hungry.
The whole meal was delectable, but Dominic didn’t clear his plate. He wasn’t alone—surprisingly Jordan, who loved his food too, didn’t finish, but unlike Dominic, he could explain why.
‘I promised Heather I’d bring home a curry.’
And just when Dominic was starting to question what on earth he was doing, talking toddlers and happy marriages with Jordan when there was Tara pouting petulantly and no doubt waiting for him to take her home, a memory pierced his mind... Ending his shift at the bar and grabbing a curry—because of course he was starving, but also a very pregnant Rachel had had a bit of a craving for it.
As well as a craving for him.
The memory was so vivid, so real, he could almost feel the happiness that had existed between them as he’d walked into their freezing flat. He’d grabbed some plates from the kitchenette, walked into their ice box of a bedroom, holding up the bag of food like a trophy, then stripped off and climbed into their warm bed.
They’d eaten as if they’d been starved for a week, tearing at the naan bread, scooping up the curry and devouring it. And then had come the best bit. Rachel loved gulab jamun—sweet syrupy balls that they generally didn’t order—but that night he’d surprised her.
They’d already been turned on, but her groan as she’d eaten one had driven him wild, and a gorgeous wrestle had ensued.
Rachel, eight months pregnant and on top of him, sweet, sticky sex, with syrup everywhere, and an orgasm that had had him seeing stars...
It had been followed by a kind of clarity and peace he’d not known since, with his difficult, fickle woman, who revealed so little and only very occasionally blossomed and opened up—but only to him.
And later, with both of Rachel’s cravings satisfied, they’d lain there, feeling the kicks of their baby and trying to decide on a name.
It had perhaps been the most pure and simple happiness he had ever known.
‘Okay,’ Jordan said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. ‘I can’t not tell you.’
Dominic turned. ‘Tell me what?’
‘Heather’s expecting.’ Jordan beamed. ‘We’re beside ourselves because we’re so pleased.’
Dominic looked at his friend, who was smiling delightedly at news that would have had Dominic running for the hills. Four! Four children, by his rapid calculation all under four, including the terrible twins! Yet Jordan had always said he wanted a big family, and he and Heather were, from all Dominic could tell, as in love now as they had been on their wedding day.
More so, even.
‘Congratulations,’ Dominic said. ‘You’re a lucky bastard.’
‘Oh, I know I am,’ Jordan said.
Suddenly Dominic wanted what he himself had once known. He wanted that pure and simple happiness again.
The meal ended and it was then that the party kicked off. This would usually have been the time when Dominic would have really started to enjoy himself. But this evening he just could not get into the swing of it—and it had nothing to do with the sparkling water he was drinking.
‘Hey, Dominic!’
Tara was waving him over to the dance floor, but he had absolutely no desire to go over and join her. No desire in that direction at all.
‘You’re quiet, Dominic,’ Jordan commented. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘I’ll just stick to water, thanks,’ Dominic said.
‘Is everything okay?’
Dominic glanced up and frowned at Jordan’s enquiry. ‘Of course.’
‘Only with Rachel working in Emergency...’
‘What?’ Dominic was furious. ‘Did Richard tell you?’
‘No,’ Jordan said. ‘You did—a couple of years ago.’
Dominic closed his eyes and drummed his fingers on the table. The less said about that night the better.
‘You had Heather looking her up on social media, remember—?’
‘Don’t let on that you know,’ Dominic cut in. ‘She’s adamant that she doesn’t want it to get out.’ Christ, it was like trying to keep the lid on Pandora’s Box. ‘I mean it, Jordan.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ Jordan said, ‘but I’m here if you want to talk.’
Jordan left it there, and said he was getting up for one quick dance before heading home.
The Emergency Department certainly knew how to party. People were actually dancing on the tables now, and Dominic was being urged to join in.
Only Tara’s laugh suddenly grated on him, and he didn’t like the possessive way she’d placed a hand on his arm, as if it were up to her to collect him for dancing, so he brushed it off and politely declined.
Tara’s nostrils did that pinched thing—not that Dominic noticed as he headed for the bar and ordered another sparkling water, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
Since Rachel’s return to his life all other women seemed to have lost their appeal.
Although sex had never been as good as it had been between him and Rachel.
She had loved it.
He had loved it.
They had loved it.
Except for that awful first time.
He was laughing quietly to himself about that when he heard a crash and, turning around, saw that a table had collapsed—thanks to the weight of the people doing an impromptu Greek dance on top of it.
There should be no better place to be injured than at an Emergency Department party, but it meant an awful lot of people jostling to be in charge.
‘I’m the only one sober,’ Dominic pointed out as he took over. But one look at Jordan’s shoulder told him this would require more than a simple sling. In fact, it was a nasty injury.
‘We’d better head back to The Primary,’ Dominic said, as he fashioned a sling with his tie and put Jordan’s jacket on him back to front, buttoning it up to hold his arm securely in place.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tara offered.
‘No need,’ Dominic said, because she was seriously starting to annoy him.
There was no n
eed. He escorted Jordan out to his car and drove him to The Primary.
It was pouring with rain, and so, rather than using his priority parking spot, he pulled into the forecourt. ‘Wait there,’ he told Jordan, rather needlessly. ‘I’ll go and find a wheelchair.’
The place was in its usual state of Saturday night chaos, so he knew there was little chance of finding a wheelchair, a gurney or anything useful.
Though there was Rachel.
She had on that long-sleeved top under her scrubs, and her gorgeous hair was in a high ponytail. She was the best thing to have happened to him this Saturday night.
But he could never accuse Rachel of being needy, because far from waving and smiling when she saw him, she gave a slight eye-roll as she came over.
‘What happened?’
‘I couldn’t stay away from the place,’ Dominic quipped. But she didn’t even reward his pale joke with a smile. ‘Jordan fell—he’s fractured his right clavicle. I need a wheelchair but I can’t find one.’
She left him standing as she went and got one.
‘Thanks,’ he said when she returned, and went to take it.
But Rachel didn’t let the handles go. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I can manage. I got him into the car.’
‘And how many fractured clavicles have you got out of a car?’
None.
‘I thought you were going to the do tonight?’ Dominic commented as they walked out of the department.
‘I didn’t know I had to run my social calendar by you.’
‘Fair enough,’ Dominic conceded, and then admitted to himself that he’d missed her being there tonight. That despite all his earlier chat, Rachel was the only woman he’d wanted to see.
Dominic drove a low-slung sports car, but it clearly did nothing to impress her.
‘Even I’d have trouble getting out of that,’ Rachel muttered as they approached, but she dropped the attitude as soon as the car door opened.
‘Hey,’ she said, and smiled to Jordan even as she tried to map out his exit. ‘What happened?’
‘The Zorba dancing,’ Jordan said through gritted teeth as his phone bleeped. ‘Heather’s been calling but I can’t get to my phone. My wife,’ he added, for Rachel’s benefit.
The Nurse's Reunion Wish (HQR Medical Romancel) Page 9
