She was hard pushed not to slap his cheek.
She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. This time she’d get in first.
‘I wanted to thank you for last night actually.’ She watched two lines appear above his straight nose at the casual edge to her voice. ‘It was great.’
‘I know.’
‘Just what I needed.’
‘Bonny—’
‘I don’t want it brought up again.’ She smiled at his confusion, smiled as she took the wind right out of the bastard’s sails by getting in first.
‘I’ll pick you up tonight—we can go for dinner.’
‘Better not.’ Bonita shook her head. ‘Mum would start getting ideas if we went out and I don’t want that.’
‘Bonny—’
‘Bonita!’ she corrected. ‘Look, last night was great and everything, but let’s face it, I was upset, couldn’t sleep, you were there…’
‘I’m sorry if you think I took advantage.’
‘We both took advantage,’ Bonita interrupted.
But Hugh wouldn’t have it, refused to buy it. ‘We’ll talk tonight. I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll call you later. We can meet somewhere if it makes it easier.’
‘I don’t want to meet somewhere, because we’ve got nothing to talk about. Let’s just forget it happened.’
‘But it did.’
‘Well, it shouldn’t have,’ she clipped. ‘I don’t want to make a big deal of it, because it wasn’t a big deal!’
‘I don’t believe you, Bonny. I know how much you like me.’
‘Oh, you know, do you?’
‘Yes!’ Adamant, pompous and refusing to let her get out gracefully, he confronted her with the truth. ‘You told me so yourself, when I was putting you under for your shoulder. Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, I know you’re upset this morning, but I also know the truth!’
‘The truth!’ An incredulous laugh shot out of her lips—and if she’d rued having three brothers, for the first time in twenty-four years she was actually grateful for the fact. Grateful that she knew how their minds worked, grateful for Marco—or was it Paul?—telling her that no matter what, she should never let a man know just how much she cared about him. Grateful too that she could hold it together while inside she fell apart. ‘I had my wisdom teeth out last year and I told Dr Lau that I was in love, too. She’s married with three children, by the way.’
‘You’re a liar, Bonny—and not a very good one. I know what I heard and I know that last night wasn’t some fling because you were upset and I happened to be there.’
‘Oh, but you were there,’ Bonita pointed out, and revenge certainly did taste better served cold, because her voice was like ice as she echoed the very words he’d knifed her with all those years ago. ‘That’s what people do when it’s available…’
‘How long did you wait to use that line?’ Hugh’s eyes were two slits, his face as white as chalk, his voice harsh as he spoke through strained lips.
‘Six bloody years!’
‘How wrong can a guy be?’ Hugh strode off but at the last moment changed his mind and tossed his parting shot at her. ‘You know, for a little while there I actually thought you’d grown up. Well, I was wrong—you’re still the self-centred little brat I remember so well.’
CHAPTER NINE
ON LEGS as shaky as those of a newborn foal, four days after her father’s funeral, Bonita walked through the doors of Emergency, praying she’d get through the shift without breaking down. Everything that had been so familiar seemed different and new—even her colleagues, though friendly and clearly pleased to see her, were just a touch awkward as they welcomed her back. And not just about her father, with Bill in charge today and Emily on duty tomorrow, exquisite discomfort was guaranteed at every turn.
Still, she knew it was just a matter of time till things settled and Bonita was grateful when Bill told her they’d start her off gradually—and not just because of her shoulder.
‘Stay out of Resus and Triage for a while,’ Bill said kindly. ‘Normally I’d give you the walking wounded in section B, but we’re a couple of nurses down with this flu that’s hit, so we’re seeing all the patients up here—just take the straightforward ones. Do you want to do the clinics this morning or the trolleys in section A?’
‘Flu!’ Bonita frowned. ‘It’s a bit early in the year for that, isn’t it?’
‘Not according to the staff that rang in!’ Bill said. ‘The vaccinations are here, though, so make an appointment at staff health—then you’ll have no excuse.’
‘Oh, I won’t be ringing in sick.’ Bonita gave a pale smile. ‘I haven’t got any sick days left!’
‘So where do you want to go?’
‘I’ll take section A,’ Bonita said, glancing at the chalkboard Bill was updating and seeing Hugh was down for two clinics. Oh, she knew she’d have to face him, but would avoid it for a little while longer if she could. Over and over she’d wondered how she’d deal with working with him, how she’d react on seeing him. She had decided to attempt cool and professional and just hoped that he’d manage to do the same.
Her first few patients were all straightforward enough. There was an eight-year-old with epistaxis, or nosebleed, who, after a brief examination from the emergency intern, was accepted by the ENT team. Bonita chatted away with him and his mother as they wheeled him up the ward to be examined by the specialist. Then there was a fourteen-year-old with abdominal pain who, according to the GP letter, was expected by Paul, who Bonita duly paged.
‘Hi, Paul. Malcolm Lewis, your abdo pain, is here.’
‘How is he?’
‘A bit uncomfortable—his obs are all OK, though,’ Bonita answered. ‘How long will you be?’
‘I’m just about to start a ward round. Could you arrange an abdo X-ray for me?’
‘You’re supposed to see him first,’ Bonita reminded him, though it was pointless. If the surgeons were doing rounds then Paul would be a good hour or so away, and one of the first things he would order when he arrived in the department was an abdo X-ray! It really was silly just to keep the patient lying there till then.
‘Just ask Hugh to write up the slip.’
Fat chance!
‘How are you doing,’ Paul asked when Bonita didn’t respond, ‘being back at work?’
‘OK so far! They’re breaking me in gently.’
‘How was Mum this morning?’
‘Glad to get rid of me,’ Bonita said, hanging up. Then she duly got the X-ray request slip signed by Andrew and arranged for a porter to take her patient round to X-Ray. Given his mum was obviously pregnant and Malcolm was fretful, Bonita told Bill she was going with the patient.
‘It won’t take long,’ Bonita assured her tearful patient, handing over the slip to the receptionist. Because he had a nurse escort, he was pushed up the list and after only ten minutes or so of waiting Malcolm was being wheeled into X-Ray Two. It was Bonita who was the anxious one now, and desperately trying not to show it.
In her head she’d gone through scenario after scenario—how she’d be when she saw Hugh, how Hugh might be when he saw her. She’d consoled herself that, given they’d pretty much never got on well at work, no one would notice much difference. Yet, with all her planning, and all her angst, she hadn’t actually factored in facing Amber.
“‘Erect and supine abdo.’” Amber read the slip without glancing at Bonita, who was purple she was blushing so fiercely. But Amber didn’t notice, just checked the paperwork then gave a very nice smile to the patient.
‘I know these machines look scary, but they’re really just big cameras.’ Amber chatted kindly to Malcolm as Bonita pulled on a lead gown, glad that her blush was fading, determined to act normally. Amber sat the patient up and asked him to hold the cold film holder over his stomach, even making him laugh when she asked him if there was any chance he might be pregnant. But the pain was too much for him. He kept dropping the film and wriggling about
and after a couple of attempts at positioning him Bonita suggested she hold the card and stay with him while the X-ray was taken.
Amber was an appropriate name, Bonita realised as amber eyes turned to hers and voiced the very same, very necessary question, only minus a glint of a smile.
‘Is there any chance that you might be pregnant?’
And in that instant Bonita thought she surely knew, could have sworn she could see the challenge in Amber’s eyes as she tossed the question.
‘None,’ Bonita croaked, holding the film against Malcolm’s chest, the weight of the lead apron hurting her shoulder. Shame, guilt, wretchedness swept over her as she averted her eyes and did her best not to face Amber.
‘Hold your breath now,’ Amber called, after she had slipped behind the screen and prepared for the shot, and though her words was surely aimed at Malcolm, Bonita’s own breath was bursting in her lungs.
‘You OK?’ Bill checked, running a worried glance over her as Bonita returned Malcolm to his cubicle. His pain had worsened and Bonita was heading off to call the surgeons as she spoke to Bill.
‘I’m not sure…’ Bonita admitted, biting down on her lip and realising that Bill was perhaps the one person she could actually talk to about things. ‘I can’t discuss it here. Is there any chance we can go to lunch together…?’ Her voice trailed off as she realised Hugh had joined them at the nursing station. She hadn’t seen him at work yet, hadn’t seen him since the morning after the funeral, and he looked, at least by Hugh’s usually impeccable standards, awful! His suit was perfect, his shirt fresh and white, but his tie didn’t match and it looked as if it was choking him, as if it had been knotted by a five-year-old. It was such a tiny detail, but she processed it in seconds. His face was grey, that usually immaculate blond hair was less so now—tousled and had just tipped into needing a cut. Lines she’d never seen before seemed grooved around his eyes and, even though she’d rehearsed over and over how she’d be when she saw him, even though to anyone else, he undoubtedly looked divine, instinct kicked in and overrode her planned greeting.
‘Are you OK?’ Bonita frowned at his taut features, and though she was more than used to him treating her coolly at work, the contempt in his voice, when it came, shot her straight back to their last bitter exchange.
‘When you’ve finished discussing your lunch plans, would you mind telling me why that patient has not been seen by a doctor when he’s been in the department for an hour?’ Hugh’s surly manner when he addressed her was, by now, familiar to all. Back from Outpatients, he set the unfriendly tone instantly. He frowned at the patient card that only had nursing obs recorded and no doctor’s notes.
‘He’s a surgical patient,’ Bonita answered tartly. ‘That’s why there’s a sign saying “Surgeons” above his cubicle.’
‘So who ordered the X-ray?’
‘Andrew,’ Bonita answered. ‘The surgeons are doing rounds and Paul asked if we could get an abdo X-ray before he came down.’ Given Andrew Browne was Hugh’s boss, she was confident that would stop him, but yet again she’d misread him.
‘So the patient’s been in pain for all that time.’
‘He’s only just become distressed,’ Bonita patiently explained. ‘I was just about to ring the team to come down.’
‘Well, do that!’ Hugh clipped, standing there unmoving as Bonita called Paul. Her face burned as Paul told her he’d be there as soon as he could, but things weren’t looking good for a quick getaway.
‘You need to send someone down to see him now,’ Bonita pushed, wishing Paul would take her seriously for five minutes.
‘The kid’s constipated, Bonny. I’ll send someone as soon as I can.’
‘Can I have the phone?’ Hugh interrupted, taking the receiver and curtly addressing his best friend.
‘Paul, I appreciate that your team’s busy—but so are we. We’re not running a babysitting service here. You have a patient that needs a doctor to see him! If one of your team isn’t down here in five minutes, I’ll take over the patient, examine him and give him analgesia, which will make your diagnosis, when you do get here, a lot harder to make.’
Hanging up the phone, he turned to go, then changed his mind. ‘In future, can we please follow procedure? A doctor is supposed to examine the patient before he goes to X-Ray.’
‘Can you speak to me first if you have a problem with the nursing staff?’ Bill asserted.
Hugh’s head deliberately lowered as he looked down at Bill in a curiously insolent gesture.
And two bulls certainly shouldn’t share the same paddock, Bonita realised as she awaited Hugh’s curt response.
‘I don’t have a problem with the nursing staff.’ Hugh’s voice dripped with derision. ‘I have a problem with certain departmental procedures not being adhered to.’
‘Your consultant ordered the X-ray,’ Bill bravely pointed out.
‘As a favour,’ Hugh responded. ‘A favour that has resulted in a fourteen-year-old boy crying in pain. Rest assured, I’ll be discussing it with Andrew! Procedures are in place for a reason!’
‘Whoa!’ Bill gave a shocked grin as Hugh stalked off. ‘What’s upsetting him?’
‘Lunch?’ Bonita winced.
‘Definitely!’ Bill nodded.
‘No way!’ Over a sad excuse for chicken and avocado foccacia, which Bonita took one bite of and discarded, and a sip the canteen’s attempt at cappuccino, she told Bill the sorry tale. He immediately shook his head. ‘No way would he have told her.’
It would seem strange to many, Bonita realised, that she could have this conversation with Bill, that she could even trust him after all that had happened, but she did. If three years together had taught her anything, it was what a decent guy Bill was—and she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t breathe a word, knew because he’d had her heart once and had treated it with care.
‘You didn’t see how she looked at me.’
‘She’s probably picked up on the fact that you two like each other.’
‘We don’t!’
‘Oh, come on, Bonita, I picked up on it! Amber’s probably feeling how I did a few months ago. He’s hardly going to have gone back home and told her…’ Bill shook his head. ‘They’re getting married, you say?’
‘He’s bought the ring apparently!’ Bonita sniffed. ‘He’s working his way up to asking her. It’s common knowledge.’
‘Not to me,’ Bill mused. ‘Mind you, Emily and I aren’t exactly top of the social scene—hardly anyone’s talking to us. Did you not think to ask if he was still seeing her?’
‘I didn’t think about anything!’ Bonita crumpled at his criticism. ‘He’d been around so many times, and never with her. But, no, that night I wasn’t thinking…’
‘I’m sorry.’ Bill squeezed her hand. ‘That was harsh. Don’t beat yourself up.’
‘They’re getting married. Have you any idea how bad I feel?’
‘He should be the one feeling bad!’ Bill insisted, then promptly let go of her hand. ‘Speak of the devil.’
Grey in the face and looking stunning but awful, Hugh stalked past with his tray.
It came as no surprise when he didn’t ask to join them.
The day was unbearable.
At two p.m. Andrew announced that Hugh had come down with flu and they were a doctor short. Bill gave her a small nudge.
‘Maybe there really is flu going around.’
‘I guess.’
‘He did look shocking,’ Bill said. ‘And it more than explains his vile mood.’
Only Bonita wasn’t convinced.
Her first day back was uncomfortable and long, but the night was even longer. Staring at the ceiling, remembering what had taken place in her bedroom, the task she’d avoided since her bitter exchange with Hugh had to be done now. She had to take an honest appraisal of herself and what she had done.
She’d assumed there had been no more Amber.
Assumed Hugh was operating by the same code of conduct as her.
<
br /> What a fool! What a stupid, blind and very much in the wrong fool.
Maybe that was Hugh’s way, Bonita reflected—affection, intimacy his prescription for pain—maybe he had comforted her in the only way he knew how. Delivered a shot of temporary relief in the same way he’d numbed her shoulder, a quick fix to see her through.
Bonita had thought nothing could come close to the pain of losing her father, only this was actually worse.
She felt as if she’d lost herself.
CHAPTER TEN
‘YOU’VE lost weight.’ Carmel observed, looking up from the thank-you cards she was writing, as Bonita came in the door after a long, boring shift in Outpatients.
‘I haven’t lost any weight,’ Bonita lied. Not that she’d weighed herself, but her uniform was hanging off her and food was the last thing on her mind at the moment. Still on light duties, she was climbing the walls working in section B and Outpatients, but not for much longer. After a discussion with Deb, it had been agreed that tomorrow she could venture back down to section A and test her shoulder and mental state on some sick patients! And Bonita was beyond relieved. Mind-numbing tasks didn’t exactly help take her mind off her troubles, and, even though Hugh was due back from sick leave soon, she was over worrying how she’d react to him. In fact, she was way past the embarrassed stage and had moved on to fury.
A restless fury that needed unleashing.
And opportunity came when she least expected it.
‘You’re not eating properly!” Carmel insisted. ‘You didn’t have any breakfast before you left this morning.’
‘Because I was running late.’
‘And you left the lunch I made you in the fridge!’
‘Mum, please.’ Bonita took a banana out of the fruit bowl and ate it just to prove to her mother she hadn’t suddenly developed anorexia. ‘See!’ Bonita swallowed the last of it and opening her mouth poked out her tongue to prove it was all gone. ‘Now, stop worrying.’
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