Emergency at Bayside

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Hey, what are you getting all choked up about?’ Flynn whispered as he stood beside her. ‘This is supposed to be a happy occasion.’

  ‘I am happy. I’m really happy for them. That’s the problem: I feel really bad about the things I said about Jake. It’s just…’

  ‘Come on.’ Taking her arm, Flynn led her outside. The manicured gardens were beautiful and he led her to a wrought-iron bench, the sound of a fountain a soothing backdrop.

  ‘You had every right to be cautious,’ Flynn said once they were both sitting down. ‘And I had no right to judge you without knowing all the facts.’ He stared at the water for a while before continuing. ‘Kathy’s pretty good at playing things down, isn’t she?’

  Meg managed a watery smile. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  ‘From the way she described things to me it sounded as if her limp was never much worse than now. It was a lot worse, wasn’t it?’ He didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘I’m not asking you to break any confidences; I already know. I asked Jake about it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I wanted to understand.’ Those beautiful grey eyes were staring right at her now, and there was nothing she could do but stare back. ‘I wanted to know about you, and Kathy’s a big part of you.’

  ‘She was pretty bad,’ Meg admitted.

  ‘And it must have been hard on you.’

  Meg shook her head. ‘What have I got to complain about?’

  ‘That sounds to me like your mother talking.’

  Meg blinked, startled by his insight. ‘She feels guilty, though there’s no reason why she should…’

  ‘She’s her mother. And sometimes, when you’re scared or guilty, it’s easier to be angry. I know—I’ve been there.’

  Meg didn’t say anything; she knew the conversation was turning to Lucy, and that she needed to hear this if ever she was truly going to know the real Flynn.

  ‘When Lucy died, I got angry. Not just at the driver who caused it; that would have been too simple. I ranted at the paramedics—sure if they’d got there sooner, instigated treatment, called for medical backup earlier, somehow she might have lived. Hell, I spent eighteen months doing research—as if somehow I could change the outcome, find something that should or could have been done on the day.’

  ‘And did you?’

  Flynn’s foot was scuffing the ground. ‘No. Oh, the research was valuable—there’s a couple of things that are done differently in the Golden Hour thanks in part to me—but at the end of the day nothing that would have saved Lucy.’ He stopped looking down at his foot, and so did Meg, their eyes lifting to meet. ‘Your mum’s probably angry, feeling cheated, and it’s her way of dealing with it—the same way you deal with it by vetting anyone that tries to get close to Kathy.’

  ‘It’s not just that.’ Meg’s words surprised even her.

  ‘What, then?’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Hey, Meg, it’s me you’re talking to.’ Pulling up her chin with his fingers, he forced her to look at him, and though she had only known him the shortest time, though in some ways they were just in the infancy of their relationship, it was as if he were looking into her very soul. ‘You can tell me anything.’

  ‘It’s too embarrassing.’

  Flynn started to smile, but it was without a trace of mockery. ‘Not the old ‘‘three times a bridesmaid’’ bit, is it?’

  Meg let out the tiniest wail of frustration. ‘How did you know? Is that what everyone’s thinking?’

  ‘It hadn’t even entered my head till now.’ Flynn laughed, but seeing her embarrassment he quickly changed it to a cough.

  ‘Stop it.’ Meg brushed his hand away, but despite herself she could feel a smile creeping on her grumbling lips. ‘It’s not how I feel, I just know that’s what all my aunts are thinking—Mum too, probably. Kathy’s not even twenty and she’s got it all sorted, and here’s old Meg.’

  Flynn roared with laughter then and didn’t even try to hide it. ‘Old Meg! God, just how old are you?’

  ‘Twenty-eight,’ Meg muttered.

  ‘Thank heavens for that! I thought you were about to tell me you were in your late forties with a brilliant plastic surgeon. Come on, Meg, you’re hardly going to be on a Zimmer frame when you walk up the aisle.’

  ‘I know all that,’ Meg wailed. ‘I don’t even particularly want to get married. It’s just what everyone’s thinking. I’ll be trailing up the aisle behind Kathy and they’ll all be whispering into their hymn books about Vince, and how all I can land is someone else’s husband.’

  ‘You scarlet woman.’

  Her smile was starting to spread, ‘You don’t think I’m terrible?’

  ‘No,’ he replied honestly. ‘But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to get my hands on this Vic.’

  ‘Vince,’ Meg corrected. ‘Or ‘‘bloody Vince’’, as Kathy and I call him.’

  ‘That’s much better,’ Flynn agreed. ‘And no one thinks you’re a washed-up old maid. You’re just a beautiful young woman with a very bruised ego.’

  ‘Who’s had too much champagne.’

  Flynn shrugged. ‘It’s a party—your sister’s engagement. If you can’t have a glass or three and get a bit emotional, then what fun is there in life?’

  Meg shrugged. ‘I was wrong about Jake; I can see that now.’

  ‘He adores her,’ Flynn said assuredly. ‘And to prove it I’m going to tell you something that must never go further, no matter what happens to us.’

  Us. That single word had the most delicious ring to it, and Meg found herself hanging on to it, dwelling on its implications as Flynn continued.

  ‘Jake hates working in Emergency.’

  ‘Jake?’ Meg dragged herself back to the conversation. ‘But I thought he loved being a physio.’

  ‘He does.’ Flynn nodded. ‘He loves rehab—even back in uni it was all he wanted to do. And then he met Kathy. Ten years younger and with a mother like a lioness with a cub.’

  A smile was tugging at the corner of her lips. ‘Is that a polite term for a battleaxe?’

  ‘It’s anything you want it to be. He asked me what to do. Technically he wasn’t doing anything wrong in asking her out, and I said the same to Jake as I did to you—he wasn’t her doctor. But Jake knew what people might say, and he just didn’t want Kathy to be put through the mill any more than she already had been. He applied for the Emergency position before he even asked her out.’

  ‘He did that for Kathy?’

  Flynn nodded. ‘In a heartbeat. Jake hates handing out crutches and, as nice as he might have been to you, advising people how to cough isn’t what he wants to be doing. But he grins and bears it.’

  ‘For Kathy.’

  ‘Pretty nice love story, huh?’

  Meg nodded, shocked by what Flynn had told her, yet pleased—so pleased for Kathy.

  ‘You know what you should do?’ When Meg looked at him, bemused, he carried on talking. ‘Go back in there and congratulate them—both of them— for finding each other; they’ll know you mean it now.’

  Meg nodded; Flynn was right. But as she went to stand he pulled her back.

  ‘Hey, not so quick.’ Wrapping his arms around her, he moved her closer towards him. ‘There’s something that needs to be taken care of first.’

  ‘What?’ Her mind was with Kathy and Jake, and putting right a hundred wrongs, but as she saw his face moving towards her everything bar the moment flew out of her mind like petals in the wind.

  ‘This,’ Flynn muttered, his breath warm on her cheek, the solid strength of him drawing her closer. Their lips met, tremulous yet certain, the cool shiver of his tongue against hers, their breath mingling in delicious union. A kiss full of depth and desire and a delicious glimpse of what was surely to come…

  ‘Megan.’ Her mother’s accent was unmistakable.

  They broke apart, laughing like naughty schoolchildren as they hastily arranged their clothes
before Mary appeared in view.

  ‘It’s Megan when she’s annoyed,’ Meg explained. ‘Which is quite a lot recently.’

  ‘Talk about timing,’ Flynn muttered, but Meg just laughed as Mary bore down on them, her face flushed from her one glass of champagne.

  ‘Just what exactly are you doing out here, Megan?’ She cast a disapproving look at Flynn, who was wearing a rather flattering shade of crimson lipstick.

  ‘Where do I know you from, young man?’

  Flynn coughed, and Meg was amazed to see this strong confident man for once actually lost for a flippant reply. ‘The hospital. I’m the doctor who spoke to you when Meg had her accident.’

  But Mary O’Sullivan had dealt with too many doctors in her time to be impressed or intimidated by a medical degree.

  ‘Well, then, can I safely assume you’ve had a good education, and therefore you know that it’s bad manners to leave during the speeches?’

  Meg smothered a grin as her mother’s steely expression turned to her. ‘And as for you, young lady, you haven’t even said hello to your aunty Morag.’ Marching on ahead, she turned briefly. ‘Try and remember to ask about her gall bladder.’

  Following subserviently, Meg nudged Flynn, who absolutely refused to catch her eye. ‘A lioness, remember?’ Meg whispered.

  ‘Maybe,’ Flynn said glumly. ‘But I’m the one holding her cub.’

  * * *

  The party was in full swing when they returned. With the speeches safely over, everyone in the packed hall was intent on having a good time.

  ‘Flynn!’ Kathy screeched as they entered. ‘Meg! Mum has been looking everywhere for you.’

  ‘She found us,’ Flynn said dryly, which Kathy seemed to find hilarious.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Jake came over, handing Kathy a fresh glass of champagne.

  ‘Mum just caught these two outside.’

  ‘So?’ He looked over at the two blushing faces. ‘Oh,’ he said, and started to laugh. ‘Thank God for that. It might take the pressure off me a bit.’

  And that was that. As effortlessly and as easily as breathing it seemed to be accepted that Flynn and Meg were a couple, and as Flynn dived on a passing waiter carrying trays Meg knew the time had come to let Kathy and Jake know that, at last, she recognised them as one.

  ‘I just wanted to say congratulations, and how happy I am for you both,’ she said with feeling as Flynn slipped a supportive hand in hers. ‘You’re lucky to have each other.’

  ‘You really mean it?’ Kathy asked, her face suddenly serious, as if Meg’s opinion really mattered.

  ‘I really mean it.’ With a slightly unsteady hand Meg accepted the glass of champagne Flynn handed her. ‘To both of you.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  ‘While we’re all being soppy and emotional, Jake’s got something to ask you, Flynn. Haven’t you?’ Kathy prompted, nudging Jake none too gently in the ribs.

  ‘I have.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering— I mean, we were wondering if you’d be my best man?’

  The glass that was on the way to his lips suddenly paused, and with a flash of pain Meg knew what Flynn was thinking; they all did. Suddenly the four-some were quiet, knowing how poignant this must be for him, how he must be remembering asking Jake to do the same for him.

  For him and Lucy.

  ‘I’d be honoured,’ he said quietly, and Meg felt his hand tighten on hers. But even as she returned the small gesture, even as she offered what small support she could, the moment was over, and suddenly it was all slapping backs and hugs and handshakes, all smiles and laughter, toasting the future.

  Lucy was Flynn’s past, Meg realised, and as much as she might want to share his pain, lighten his load, Flynn wasn’t letting anyone in.

  * * *

  ‘Did you remember to find out about your aunty Morag’s gall bladder?’ Giggling, immoderately they half fell into her flat.

  ‘Find out!’ Meg exclaimed. ‘In glorious Technicolour detail! I swear they did it without an anaesthetic the way she went on about it. Can you believe she had the stones in a jar in her handbag?’

  Pouring what was left of the cream liqueur Kathy had brought over into two glasses, Meg handed Flynn one.

  ‘And do you think your mother bought our story about sharing a taxi?’

  ‘Not for a second,’ Meg replied happily. ‘Flynn, I’m old enough to look after myself. I left home eight years ago.’

  ‘I know.’ He winced. ‘God, she could cut you with a look, your mother.’

  Meg laughed, but the laugh faded in a second as she heard what Flynn had to say.

  ‘Maybe I should just be done with it and make an honest woman of you.’

  ‘Flynn?’ Meg wasn’t sure she had heard right.

  ‘I’m serious, Meg.’

  So was she. Incredible as his words were, as much as they had taken her completely by surprise, it was as clear to Meg as crystal that she loved him. ‘We hardly know each other.’

  ‘I know that I love you.’ He put down his glass and crossed the room. ‘Don’t ask me to tell you when it happened, because I can’t be sure. But looking down at you in resus that morning, yours eyes like a wary kitten, bits of glass strewn through your hair, I wanted to pick you up and take you home. If there’s such a thing as love at first sight then it happened to me.’

  He ran a finger along her cheek. ‘Meg, I never thought I’d be saying this again, but being with you just feels so right.’

  ‘I know it does—but marriage?’ She looked up at him. ‘Flynn, we haven’t even slept together.’

  He gave a low, throaty laugh, his tongue tracing the length of her neck, making her toes curl as he nuzzled deeper. ‘We can soon put that right.’

  One hand was stealing along her waist, searching fingers locating her zip and sliding it down as his warm hand slid inside. With a low moan she felt his hand on the soft mound of her breast, his finger and thumb massaging her nipple. His other hand was brushing her strappy dress down over her shoulders and, moving back slightly, he watched with unmasked admiration as it fluttered to the floor. His tie, already undone, was easily removed, and with almost indecent haste they both attacked his shirt. The need to feel him naked against her was an instinct as natural as breathing. The heavy buckle of his trousers and the tiny silver zip were teasing obstacles for her long nails. Tugging at his trousers, she ran her hand along the solid dusky-haired thighs, the taut, muscular buttocks.

  There was nothing now to stop them—no physical obstacle anyway. Just one big question that Meg needed the answer to.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He nodded, the same affirmative nod she had grown so used to, but it had bigger ramifications now. ‘Are you?’

  Oh, she was sure. Never had she been more so. ‘I don’t want you to regret…’

  ‘Shh.’ Pulling her up, he held her close for a moment. She could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and his fingers were lost in her long dark curls as she closed her eyes and let his words wash over her, soothe yet simultaneously excite her. ‘I know how I feel, Meg, and I know how you make me feel. And as long as it’s right for you then there’s nothing for either of us to regret.’ He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulled her closer if that was possible. ‘Is it, Meg? Is it right for you too?’

  She nodded into his chest, salty tears of love and joy slipping down her cheeks, moistening his glistening skin beneath her. He laid her down on the floor gently, slowly. Each kiss, each touch, was measured, calculated to bring her to the very edge of reason, the very edge of oblivion. He parted her soft thighs, his fingers tracing the yielding flesh of her womanhood until she groaned for mercy, quivering with desire, almost begging him to enter her welcoming warmth. As he entered her a strangled gasp was forced from her lips, muffled by the weight of his kiss. Then her hips were rising to meet his, grinding in unison, pulling him deeper. He was taking her further than she had ever been in her life, the throbbing intensity of her sweet surrender ca
using her to cry out his name.

  She knew she shouldn’t compare—Vince and Flynn were two different entities entirely. And in truth there was no comparison. The exquisite tenderness of Flynn’s lovemaking, the adoration in his eyes, should have washed away all the pain of her past. But when Flynn scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, gently laying her down and pulling the sheet over her, she felt a surge of panic as he smiled down at her and moved for the door. This was the point when Vince had left. When he’d suddenly remembered an early client, or the car service, when he had kissed her goodbye and said that he’d ring her in the morning.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Her voice was tentative, the tiniest note of panic creeping in, and Flynn turned with a quizzical look in his eyes.

  ‘To get some water. Do you want some?’

  Relief washed over her. ‘Please.’

  ‘Where did you think I was going?’ He stood there, naked and gorgeous. Evading the question, attempting a diversion, Meg stretched seductively on the bed.

  But he didn’t respond and, looking up, she could see the hurt in his eyes.

  ‘Meg, where did you think I was going?’ His voice was slightly louder, more insistent.

  ‘Home,’ she admitted finally.

  ‘You think I’d just get up and leave? We just made love, for heaven’s sake. Didn’t anything I said count?’

  Meg rolled on her side, facing the wall. Anything other than see the pained look in his eyes. ‘Of course it did.’

  ‘Then why did you think I was going home?’

  ‘Just leave it, Flynn. Please,’ she added. But Flynn was having none of it. In two short steps he crossed the room. Sitting on the bed, he raked his fingers through his hair, hardly making a mark in his jet black hair.

  ‘I’m not leaving it, Meg. I went to get a glass of water and you—’

  ‘I made a mistake,’ she interrupted. ‘Vince—’

  It was Flynn that interrupted now, his voice angry, trembling with fury, but Meg knew that it wasn’t aimed at her.

  ‘I’m not Vince. Don’t ever compare me to him.’ His eyes flashed to her and in a second the anger evaporated. Seeing her lying there on the bed, confused, he felt his heart melt. ‘I’d never hurt you, Meg. Don’t let that excuse for a man ruin it for us.’