A Doctor, a Nurse

by Carol Marinelli

  And that was something she needed to think carefully about.

  There was nothing as bleak as a post-divorce birthday.

  There was nothing as bleak as letting yourself in at five minutes past midnight to a house that was empty and a husband that was no longer there.

  Oh, she’d been a sister doing it for herself tonight, had wiggled her bum on the dance floor and sworn she’d survive along with the rest of the crowd.

  And she would.

  Holding her cat to her chest, even though he was scratching to get out, Molly knew that she would survive. Glimpsed that day in the long way-off future, when she’d bump into Richard and his rapidly growing brood and be able to smile.

  Molly stared at the wall, at the silly crystals she’d hung to promote new energy, held onto her cat, who was purring now, and hated it that she was alone on her birthday.

  It wasn’t age she feared, and it wasn’t loneliness—just that horrible thought that you might die in bed alone. Unnoticed for days. That you weren’t worth checking on, Molly thought melodramatically. But it was ten minutes into her birthday so she was allowed to be, Molly decided, because next year she’d be thirty.

  Which had her reaching for the tissues.

  And she knew people cared. Molly blew loudly into her tissue.

  She knew she’d be missed before the neighbours noticed a pong.

  Rolling on her side, Molly hugged her cat closer.

  She knew that she mattered.

  Only it wasn’t the same.

  ‘Good that there aren’t kids involved.’

  Everyone said it—her lawyer, her family, her friends, even Luke.

  And she wasn’t being melodramatic any more, just very, very sad and terribly honest…

  With herself.

  Because, yes, she smiled and nodded, almost right to the point she agreed—only this horrible, selfish part of her didn’t.

  She wanted there to have been kids involved and pictures on her fridge, to be yawning at work because the kids wouldn’t let her sleep, wanted to moan that her boobs were no more. Was sick of working over Christmas because apparently she didn’t need to be home on Christmas morning.

  But she wanted to be there so badly that it really was a need.

  A need Richard had had too—a need that had pushed Molly to look at adoption.

  But he’d wanted his own children, which meant that he hadn’t wanted her—and she didn’t want him any more either. She wanted Luke—only she didn’t want his kids…

  ‘Why do men snore?’ Anne-Marie’s warm Scottish voice on the end of the phone pierced her loneliness.

  ‘Why does every man I fall in love with go and get someone else pregnant?’

  ‘There’s no answer to either,’ Anne Marie sighed. ‘I rang a few times, so don’t think you’ve got a load of messages! Oh, and I’ve decided that we’re getting next-door flats in the retirement village,’ she continued, pretending she couldn’t hear her friend’s tears. “We’ll drink lots of gin and cheat at bingo and you can flirt with all the rich retirees!’

  ‘I’m not worried about getting old.’

  ‘Well, I am, and just in case you are, I’m letting you know that we’ve got a plan! Happy birthday, Molly.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘HAPPY birthday!’

  Blinking at her front door, her dressing-gown wrapped around her, Molly tried to work out what day it was.

  She’d been out with friends last night, Friday night, and then Anne Marie had rung. Luke had been working, but he was off for the weekend now…which meant it was Saturday morning, Molly realised.

  And she was still alive!

  Very early in the morning, actually, and Luke was standing in her doorway, dressed in scrubs, in desperate need of a shave and holding…

  ‘Here!’ He handed her a massive bunch of flowers—not roses, which was good, because they weren’t her favourite. Instead he’d brought a massive bunch of pale pink lilies, which were her favourite—especially when they came with lots of carefully arranged twigs sticking out, especially when they were being held out by a gorgeous specimen of a man.

  ‘I’m assuming you didn’t get these at the local garage.’ Molly buried her face in them and no doubt came out with a yellow nose. ‘And I don’t think the local florist opens at…’ Glancing at the oven clock, she did a double take. ‘Six a. m.! Luke, what on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘I asked Tom to come in early.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why do you think, Molly? It’s your birthday—I feel awful that I can’t take you out tonight.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Molly said firmly. ‘And don’t listen to what Anne Marie says either—you need some time with the twins and you can’t keep asking your mum. I mean, it’s fine for work and everything, but…’ Her voice sort of trailed off.

  ‘You know, I think she’d actually be pleased if I told her I was seeing someone.’

  ‘You haven’t told her, then.’ Molly’s cheeks were pink because she hadn’t told her family either. She certainly wasn’t going to tell her parents, who’d no doubt get ahead of themselves, who’d no doubt start giving knowing little smiles and assuming it was something serious…

  Which it wasn’t.

  ‘What would I tell her?’ came his pertinent reply, but he didn’t wait for her answer. ‘Breakfast?’ he said instead, holding out a greasy-looking bag.

  ‘Croissants?’ Molly said hopefully.

  ‘Chocolate croissants,’ Luke said proudly. ‘You go back to bed and I’ll bring it in.’

  So she did. Happily followed doctor’s orders. After a quick brush of her teeth and a few squirts of perfume, oh, and a very quick comb of her hair, plus the teeniest bit of body lotion and a very quick tidy of her room, Molly hopped back in and had arranged the sheet around her, just enough to show a bit of cleavage, just in time to pretend she’d been there for ages, when Luke came in with a tray heaped with coffee and croissants, which Molly fell on.

  ‘Climb in.’ She grinned. ‘There’s plenty of room.’

  ‘Better not.’

  ‘Don’t be shy, now.’ Molly smiled.

  ‘I’ve only got till eight…’

  ‘Plenty of time, then,’ Molly joked, but her smile faded when she saw the strained look on his face.

  ‘Look, Molly, I didn’t come here for that.’ She felt stupid all of a sudden, like some raving nymphomaniac, felt stupid and embarrassed, and not even a bite of delectable chocolate croissant could take away the sting of his words. ‘I came to see you. I wanted to see you because it’s your birthday.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you?’ Luke pinned her with his eyes, then he closed them, let out the longest breath as Molly held hers. ‘Do you understand that I didn’t come here just to get you into bed? I’m exhausted, Mol,’ he said, reverting for the first time to the name he’d once called her. ‘Trying to squeeze everything in—kinder, the twins, work, us…’

  ‘You didn’t come here to dump me…’ Molly tried a brave smile ‘…again?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Luke rolled his eyes and smiled back. ‘I came here to dump you on your birthday! I’m just trying to…’ He faltered as he tried and failed to find the words. ‘I’m sorry, Molly, my intention was to cheer you up, not spread my misery. Sometimes it would be nice just to be…to do…I don’t know… Angus is having nightmares. I ought to be there for him at night. It’s not fair on my mum either. I’m snatching a couple of hours’ sleep here and there, you know, waking to pick them up from kinder and give them lunch, then back to bed, then up to give them dinner and their bath. I just don’t feel I’m giving any area of my life the attention it needs and I know for a fact I’m not giving you the attention you deserve.’

  ‘You’re being a bit hard on yourself,’ Molly offered. ‘Things will settle down.’

  ‘I know. I’ve got this interview in a couple of weeks.’ He ran an exasperated hand over his forehead. ‘If I get it, my hours will be more civilised, and the twi
ns start school in a few months. Mum’s been great helping with them. If we can just muddle through till then…’

  ‘Things will get easier,’ Molly said gently. ‘I mean, it’s only been a few months since…’ She gave a little tight shrug. ‘You’ve had a big move. The kids starting a new kinder, you starting a new job…’

  ‘You.’

  ‘Me.’ Molly nodded. ‘We’re supposed to be about making things better for each other, Luke, not harder.’

  ‘You don’t,’ Luke said firmly. ‘God, Molly, if you knew how much I looked forward to our time together, how nice it feels to just be me for a while. I’m not trying to end things, I’m just trying to explain. I want you more in my life, I don’t want it to be transient, some little secret. I’m not asking for for ever, I know you don’t want to get too involved, but I want us to do normal things.’

  ‘We do do normal things,’ Molly attempted.

  ‘Like have dinner together?’ Luke offered.

  ‘How can we? We both work nights and on the nights you’re off…’

  ‘I’m not asking you to stay over at my place,’ Luke said. ‘I know that would be too confusing for the kids, but, hell, can’t we just be friends—at least to them? I don’t know, my head’s all over the place.’ He gave a defeated shrug. ‘I guess I just need to—’

  ‘Sleep?’ Molly offered, watching a watery smile lighten his tired face.

  ‘Yeah—and wake up for once,’ Luke said, ‘with you.’

  ‘Climb in, then,’ Molly said again, only this time it was said without a trace of innuendo. Placing the tray on her bedside table, she set the alarm for eight as Luke peeled off his theatre blues and clambered in beside her. ‘You’ve got an hour and forty-five minutes.’ She kissed his mouth as he groaned in pleasure at the prospect of sleep. ‘Now, close your eyes and make the most of it.’

  ‘God, Molly,’ Luke said, pulling her into the crook of his arm and lying back on the pillow, ‘you know exactly how to please…’

  He didn’t even finish what he was saying. He was out like a light in mid-sentence and Molly lay for a good five minutes, her head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Her flimsy cheap curtains were a bargain at twice the price, because they allowed in enough light for her to see the contours of his body, the smatter of hair on his chest, the way it swirled round his nipples like water going down a plughole, flat, hard nipples that she ached to touch but wouldn’t.

  Wriggling out of his arm, Molly propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him, realising that even asleep he looked exhausted, his face still tense, his mouth tightly closed, as if on permanent guard. Pushing aside her own hurt, pushing aside the blame, and the reasons, she actually tried to see how it must be for him. Working five nights a week, his mother ill, trying to raise troubled twins and grieving himself, too—surely, even if they were just lovers, even if this was ultimately going nowhere, they were friends too.

  And friends helped each other when needed.

  Curling up, she faced the wall, felt him stir behind her, felt him spoon against her, safe in the cocoon of his arms, safe and peaceful for a little while longer in the world that they had created, half dozing and half dreading the buzz of the alarm that would shatter it, wondering if she could spare it—spare just a tiny bit more of that piece without leaving herself open to hurt. It wasn’t the alarm but instead Luke’s kiss that roused her. He lifted her hair and slowly, slowly kissed the back of her neck as thoroughly as if it were her mouth, the arm that was over her drawing her closer, warm lazy skin on warm lazy skin as his hand softly kneaded her breast.

  ‘I’ve been thinking—’

  ‘No thinking,’ Luke interrupted his kiss just long enough to respond. ‘It’s your birthday.’

  And back he went, back to where her neck met her shoulders, his tongue caressing her, his teeth nibbling her tender flesh as the arm that was beneath her moved lower, his hand coming to rest a teasing moment between the soft warmth of her legs. She could hear his breath on her ear as he shifted himself slightly, knew, because she knew him, that his eyes were closed, that he was savouring each sensation as much as her, his fingers sliding to her most intimate place now, his gorgeous erection just there at her entrance. Only the birthday girl wasn’t in any rush, just revelling in the bliss of this man who knew her body, this man who could read every little moan and get it absolutely right. And it was rude to compare performances, Molly thought, purring like a kitten as he stroked her deeper, and she never ever would, Molly gasped, as the pressure grew more insistent. It would be like trying to choose between chocolate or strawberry milkshake, she decided, biting on her lip as his ragged breathing matched hers, Richard strawberry, Luke chocolate…

  ‘Luke…’ She didn’t actually say it, this sort of urgent mental plea that he’d already answered on entering.

  God, how did he do it? Molly wondered, because from the outside they were barely moving, yet from the inside, each deep, measured thrust, had her frenzied, until she could take it no more—shuddering in his still busy hand as he shuddered deep within her, as still he kissed her neck, as her head swung round to capture his mouth, the question begged again—how did he do it? How did he always, always just know how?

  The alarm clock blared its applause as they arrived just ahead of schedule, and it beat its electronic tune for a minute or two before they managed to move.

  ‘I’ve been thinking…’ Molly attempted again, now that she could actually focus her thoughts, and focus she did, just for a second, just for a quick last-minute check with her brain before she turned and opened her mouth. ‘Why don’t I pop over this afternoon, just for an hour? I’m going to Mum’s for my birthday dinner. I could stop by on the way, say hi to the twins.’

  He didn’t say anything, just stared back at her.

  ‘And if I drop by now and then, well, in a couple of weeks maybe they’ll be OK with me picking them up from kinder now and then.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Luke frowned. ‘But you said—’

  ‘That I didn’t want to be involved. That I didn’t want to be Daddy’s girlfriend—but I am your friend, Luke.’

  ‘If we keep it light.’ There was relief in his voice and something else too. ‘Just a friend dropping in. What sort of thing would you drop by Anne Marie’s for?’

  Molly gave a helpless shrug. ‘I don’t really need a reason to drop by—I just text her and tell her to put the kettle on or to pour me a glass of wine.’

  ‘Maybe you could be lending me a DVD?’

  ‘OK.’ Molly nodded, because it sounded like a sort of plan.

  ‘And then you’ll stay for coffee?’

  ‘Sure,’ Molly said, ‘or maybe a milkshake.’

  ‘Milkshake.’ His head on the pillow jerked towards hers and he frowned at her odd response, then with a quick kiss he climbed out of bed, grimaced at the clock and started to get dressed. ‘I’m sure I can rustle some up—what flavour do you like?’

  ‘I can’t say,’ Molly squeaked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, I can,’ Molly gulped. ‘Actually, I know full well which one I prefer—I just feel really guilty saying it!’

  ‘What are you talking about, Molly?’ He dug in his pocket and pulled out a little box, his voice a bit gruff when next he spoke. ‘Here—happy birthday.’

  He’d wrapped it too—and she tore at the paper, no gentle shaking or a moment pretending to guess. Instead, she gleefully pulled off the paper, muttering something about how he shouldn’t have, but clearly delighted that he had. Her eyes were shining as brightly as the silver pendant and looked up to thank him, seeing him standing there, her body still thrumming from his attention, this birthday so unlike last year’s, this birthday such a happy one. And even if Luke wouldn’t understand the compliment he was being given, she gave it anyway.

  ‘Chocolate milkshake,’ Molly said firmly, watching his eyes crinkle in confusion, not just at the strange response to a gift but at the little surreptitious s
mile on her lips. ‘I by far prefer chocolate.’

  ‘Chocolate it is, then.’ He kissed the tip of her nose.

  ‘And I don’t feel guilty for saying it—not in the least.’

  ‘Good for you!’ He kissed her mouth then let her go. ‘You crazy lady!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘HI!’ MOLLY beamed. ‘Here…that DVD you said you wanted.’ Thrusting one of her many chick flicks at Luke, Molly stood in the hall as four blue eyes peered at her from the staircase.

  Six, actually, if you counted the rather large photo of Amanda on the wall!

  ‘Oh, hi, Molly.’ He was giving his political speech again. ‘Thank you for that. I’m sure I’ll enjoy watching it. Kids, this is Molly, a friend from work. She’s a nurse.’

  ‘We already met.’ Molly smiled. ‘The other morning.’

  Still they stood there, staring.

  ‘And she’s just lending me a DVD I’ve been wanting to watch. You’ll stay for a drink, won’t you?’

  ‘Love to!’ Molly answered as four little eyes narrowed to slits.

  ‘My mum was a doctor.’ Amelia stood on the stairs, a little angel with her fluffy blonde hair and little pink nightdress and still with those very faded fairy wings on, but Molly could have sworn she had horns as her eyes narrowed at their surprise guest. ‘Daddy,’ sang her cherubic little voice, ‘a doctor’s much better than a nurse, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s different,’ Luke said, leading Molly through to the kitchen, as the children brought up the rear. ‘It’s a different job—and different is good.’

  ‘Why?’ Angus joined his sister—ooh, next to another photo of Amanda. ‘Why is different good?’

  ‘It just is.’ Luke shrugged. ‘Who’s for a chocolate milkshake?’

  ‘I like your wings,’ Molly offered, shrinking in her chair as Amelia simultaneously smiled and hexed her with her eyes.

  ‘Mummy bought them for me.’

  ‘Come on, Amelia.’ Angus picked up his drink and so did his sister. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’ Amelia replied, sitting herself down at the table, like a little judge with her chocolate milk moustache. ‘I want to stay and talk to Molly.’