by Fiona Lowe
One small purchase—a gift—had changed everything. The moment he’d swung it around her neck and pulled her into him, she’d fallen in love. What had started out as a summer of fun had morphed into friendship and love. Ignoring all the apocryphal stories about doomed holiday romances, Lauren had foolishly allowed herself to weave a fantasy of the two them continuing to be together long after the summer ended. After all, she’d justified, they’d be living in the same city. The university was across the road from the hospital where Charlie had accepted an intern position. Geography wasn’t an issue so why couldn’t they build on what they’d started?
‘Something exciting happened today,’ Charlie said, as she lay with her head in his lap.
She gazed up at him and laughed. ‘The fact you actually beat me into shore?’
He grinned. ‘That was pretty cool, but it’s even better than that.’
Excitement bounced off him, pushing into her and catching her in its web. Had he got the flat he’d applied for? Did it mean he was going to ask her to move in with him? She sat up and caught his hands. ‘Tell me!’
‘I got an offer from London Central. I’m going to do my residency there.’
Her smile froze. All her daydreams shattered, crashing down around her feet in sharp and jagged shards, digging into her skin. ‘London as in London, England?’
‘The very same.’ He laughed, high on the news.
‘Wow.’ The one-syllable word was a struggle to form. ‘That’s...that’s so exciting.’
‘I know, right?’ He pulled her into his lap and kissed her. ‘I can hardly believe it.’
She studied his face. It shone with jubilation and anticipation. The fact this news thrilled him to his marrow eviscerated her. She wasn’t part of this dream of his. ‘I didn’t even know you’d applied,’ she said, forcing herself to sound upbeat.
‘I didn’t tell anyone.’
‘Not even your parents?’ She couldn’t imagine keeping anything that huge from her mum and dad. So how come you’re keeping Charlie a secret?
‘I didn’t want to jinx it,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘I still can’t believe I got accepted. I’m going to have a year in England.’
She wanted to be happy for him, she truly did, but all she could think was that he was travelling seventeen thousand kilometres away from her and she wouldn’t see him for twelve long months. Her world, which had been so vibrant and colourful only a few minutes before, was suddenly charcoal grey. ‘And after London, then what? You’ll come back?’
He smiled and ran his hands through her hair before cupping her cheeks, tilting back her head and kissing her until sensation vanquished all conscious thought.
The memory slapped Lauren and her breath stalled.
No, that wasn’t right.
Charlie had smiled at her and then said, ‘Yes, I’ll be back.’ She conjured up the memory a second time. She saw the smile but the words didn’t come.
Oh, God.
Had she interpreted his smile as agreement? Had she been so desperate to hear the words that she’d imagined he’d spoken them?
No!
She tried again but she still couldn’t hear them. The idea that she’d replayed this memory over and over in her head until her version of the conversation had become her reality horrified her. Worse still was the thought that her desperation a couple of months later, when darkness had descended over her, had cemented the erroneous belief firmly in place. She knew the only thing that had got her through the heartache and misery after her miscarriage had been her belief that he’d return to her. It had sustained her right up until betrayal had sneaked in and taken its place.
‘Lauren.’ Charlie’s voice was careful and controlled. ‘Please understand this has nothing to do with our amazing summer together. The thing is, I would never have promised you that I’d come back.’
For so long she’d been so certain, so convinced and yet now... ‘How can you be so sure you didn’t say it?’
He sighed and the weariness he wore like a coat settled over him. ‘Because London was my ticket out of Australia. I never had any intention of returning here to live. I still don’t.’
Despite his resigned tone, a hint of harshness lingered in the words. She trawled her dusty and obviously faulty recollections, looking for anything he’d said or done during their summer that had hinted he’d wanted to run from his country of origin. She had plenty of moments to draw on of a laughing and smiling Charlie. Of him daring her to race him both on land and sea, and a thousand clips of his eyes darkening to indigo before he kissed her and tumbled her into bed. Happy, joyous, playful memories with no connection to anything outside their precious bubble. Not one clue that anything was amiss.
The reality was they’d mostly avoided talking about the future because it had meant the end of their time together. ‘You did mention a vague plan of working with your father.’
‘Was I drunk at the time?’ But his lip curled, stealing the joke from the words. He scrubbed his face with his hands before looking back at her. ‘Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do. I had no idea you thought I was coming back. You never said a thing, never dropped any clues, and if you had, I would have said something. I mean, hell, did we even trade more than one or two emails after I left?’
Five. We traded five. But she swallowed the words, not wanting to sound even more pathetic than she’d already exposed herself to be. Only a fool carried a torch for a man who had left her and his country without a backward glance.
But his question had been rhetorical and he didn’t pause for a reply. ‘I remember you emailing and telling me about your cohort and your lecturers. How you were trying not to sink under the intense workload and asking me for tips.’ He gave her wry smile tinged with guilt. ‘I was barely keeping my head above water then myself. What’s the statute of limitation on apologies?’
‘Twelve years and one month.’
‘I can just sneak it in under the wire, then.’ He picked up her hand. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your emails. I apologise for any and all hurt I’ve caused you.’ His eyes flickered with something she couldn’t read. ‘Seriously, Lauren. I’m truly sorry.’
His sincerity warmed her. ‘Thank you. I appreciate the apology, even though it seems I was the one to get the wrong end of the stick. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a warmer welcome the other day.’
‘I’m just glad I understand why. I hate the idea you were hurt by this misunderstanding.’
She shrugged and withdrew her hand, not offering the real reason why she’d stopped emailing him or waited out the year. Her surprise pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage was information he never needed to know. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said flippantly, changing the subject. ‘I didn’t pine for long. All the guys in my year were intrigued by my first year of aloofness so I had lots of opportunities to make up for lost time.’
He tensed momentarily before giving her a sideways glance. ‘Good to know. So now we’ve got that all sorted, are we friends again?’
Friends. The feelings his touch had sparked in her today were not the platonic sensations experienced by friends. They told her to run fast and far from the suggestion. But she’d already wrongly accused him of breaking a promise and he had saved her life today. That tilted the scales firmly in his direction. Saying no would be childish and churlish but the idea of being friends with him unsettled her. How could she get around this without appearing ungrateful?
Snatches of conversation played in her head. ‘London was my ticket out of Australia.’ ‘I never had any intention of returning.’ ‘I’m a trauma surgeon with Australia Aid.’
‘I haven’t seen my grandson in two years.’
Bingo! Charlie didn’t live in Australia. She almost punched the air in relief. If she extrapolated details, it sounded like he only ever spent a few weeks a year in the country so he’d only be in Ho
rseshoe Bay for a few days. She could easily be friends with him for a few days every second year.
‘Of course,’ she said, smiling. ‘Friends.’
The grin of pleasure that sent his dimples spinning almost made her regret it.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE FOLLOWING DAY, the pain in Lauren’s arm was a manageable ache, but who knew bruised ribs bit this much? She’d do something as innocuous as putting a plate in the dishwasher and hot, sharp pain would sear her. It made her wonder at how painful broken ribs must be. From now on she would be far more sympathetic when her patients complained of the same condition.
Moving more slowly than usual, her shower and breakfast had taken longer. Although she had no plans to ever admit this to anyone—especially not to her mother—Lauren had needed to sit and rest for a few minutes after the shower. Lexie had texted, All good here. Will drop around some scripts this afternoon for you to sign.
Sue had telephoned to check in on her, saying, ‘Rest. Lexie and I have everything under control. Peter Li in Surfside is happy to see any sickies and we can work around everyone else.’
Lauren had listened to her mother and murmured appropriately so as not to give Sue any clues that she had no intention of staying home. Today was the day Mackenzie Strickland was coming in for her test results and Lauren was determined to be the one to give them to her. The plan for the day was simple—wait until Sue left on her district nurse round and then drive to the clinic, which was why she was now trying not to flinch as she turned the wheel of her car and pulled into her designated parking spot.
Move slowly, she reminded herself as she cautiously got out of the car. She’d driven past the café on her way and had shivered when she’d seen the police tape. Her mind kept going to the question, what if Charlie had been a second slower in reacting? Last night, her sleep had been broken either by the ache of her ribs or by vivid dreams. All had woken her with a start but she wasn’t sure which dream had scared her the most—the one where fear had gripped her as she was thrown to the ground or the one where she’d snuggled into Charlie’s chest.
This was another reason she was better off at work. Sitting at home gave her too much time to think. She didn’t want to think about how close to death she’d come and she didn’t want to think about Charlie, full stop. ‘Morning.’ She stepped into the clinic, using the side entrance.
‘What are you doing here?’ Lexie’s question was terse with surprise. ‘You’re supposed to be resting.’
‘I’ve rested. I’ve come to sign the scripts and save you a trip.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘I wanted to. Also, I know you cancelled everyone but can you please ring Mackenzie and ask her to come in? I don’t want her to have to wait any longer than—’ Voices drifted up the corridor from the direction of the consulting rooms. ‘Who’s here?’
Lexie, who rarely smiled, did exactly that. ‘Charlie.’
‘Charlie? Charlie Ainsworth?’ she asked inanely, her brain stalling.
‘Of course, Charlie Ainsworth.’ Lexie threw her a look that suggested Lauren had lost her mind. ‘Do you think I’d let Charlie Petroni or Charlie Rogers into the treatment room without a staff member?’
‘But Charlie’s not a staff member.’
‘He is this week.’ Again, Lexie looked at her as if she was a sandwich short of a picnic. ‘If you can’t remember that then he’s right about those strong painkillers messing with your concentration. You shouldn’t be seeing patients. Are you sure you should even be driving?’
‘I’m fine,’ she ground out, suddenly cross. Not that she was exactly sure who she was mad at or in which order. Had her parents overstepped the mark and asked Charlie to work at the clinic? No. they wouldn’t do that, would they? Had he just taken it on himself to work here uninvited? Would he be that bold?
The voices increased in volume and then Charlie was ushering Mackenzie Strickland across the foyer and out of the clinic, his smile as broad as the patient’s. White anger, pure and hot, poured through Lauren. How dare you! That was my news to give Mackenzie.
‘Who’s next, Lex?’ Charlie turned towards Reception. ‘Lauren?’ Surprise widened his eyes and raised his brows, along with a flash of something that vanished as quickly as it had come.
He looked different but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. His ever-present weariness still clung to him, lingering in the lines on his face, but the blue on blue of his eyes positively sparkled. A hypnotic energy whizzed around him in an enticing buzz that drew her in and that’s when it hit her. Charlie looked happy.
‘May I please speak with you in my office?’ she said tightly. Without waiting for him to reply, she stalked down the corridor. The moment he was inside the room and the door closed behind him, she said, ‘What are doing here?’
‘Talking to you?’
‘Don’t be a smartarse. Why are you here?’
He sat down in such a casual manner she wanted to scream. ‘I think it’s fairly self-explanatory. You’re crook and I’m a doctor.’
‘You’re a trauma surgeon, not a GP.’
‘I’m still a doctor.’
‘You’re on holidays.’ She caught the flash of unease in his eyes and it quenched her anger, leaving her feeling rattled. ‘You are on holidays, right? A brief visit of a few days?’
‘Actually...’ His fingers tapped out a tune on his thighs ‘...it’s a bit longer than that.’
Her mouth dried. Her heart rate picked up, pumping threads of anxiety through her. She didn’t want or need Charlie in Horseshoe Bay for an extended length of time. She could handle a week. She quickly calculated that as he’d arrived three days ago that meant he only had four left. She could survive four, no problem. Easy-peasy. ‘So a week, right?’
‘I’m here until Easter.’
Six weeks! No. No. No! She sat down before she fell down.
* * *
Charlie watched Lauren’s hand grip the edge of her desk before she skated her chair in close. Granted, he’d been accused by women in the past of missing emotional clues but there was nothing subtle about Lauren’s anger. She seethed with it—its tentacles lashing and whipping him from the moment he’d spied her across the clinic foyer. That she was angry with him was clear. Why she was angry was another matter entirely.
Yesterday, after they’d cleared up a decade-old misunderstanding and he’d apologised, they’d shared a companionable afternoon watching Bogart and Hepburn on TV slugging it out in The African Queen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat and watched a movie from start to finish without either being interrupted or interrupting himself. But there was nothing friendly or companionable about Lauren now.
Was it pain-induced anger and distress? He’d been surprised to see her at the clinic, especially as the registrar at Surfside Hospital, her parents, Lexie and himself had all told her she needed to take three days off to give her ribs a chance to ease and start healing. She’d appeared to listen and agree and yet here she was, extremely irritable and unhappy. If they had been fencing and she’d been holding a sabre, he’d have been in danger of being run through.
With a brisk and practised move, Lauren clicked on her mouse and her computer screen flickered to life. ‘Please go back to enjoying your holiday.’
Enjoying his holiday? That was an oxymoron. He was more than happy to work. He’d already calculated that if he did two sessions a day at the clinic Monday to Friday—hell, he’d work weekends too—he might just survive the next six weeks of imposed leave. Meanwhile, Lauren’s complexion was tinged with the tight whiteness of pain and he wanted to ease that.
‘Lauren, why are you pushing yourself? No one expects you to work for the rest of the week.’
‘I have patients.’
‘Who I’m more than happy to look after.’ He’d only done two hours’ work so far this morning
but already he felt lighter and far more like himself. He loved surgery but he was getting a kick from interacting with patients in a different way. ‘It’s been a bit like old home week. Mr. Colvin remembered me.’
When he and Harry had been twelve and nine respectively, they’d been given the job of meeting the cray boat on the pier. The instructions from their parents had been simple—buy the biggest two. Harry had always winced at the scream when the cray hit the hot water, whereas Charlie had been fascinated by the chemistry of how applying heat to the shell changed it from a dark blue-brown to bright red. It was probably why he’d become a doctor, whereas Harry—His thoughts veered away from all the unfulfilled potential that had been stolen from his brother. The guilt sneaked in anyway.
‘Mr C. brought you a crayfish as a get-well gift. I was going to drop it over to you later but why not take it home with you now?’ Charlie gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Lexie and I have got this. All you need to do is sleep, rest and recuperate.’
‘I’m not asking you to give up your leave.’
‘You’re not. I’m offering,’ he said expansively. ‘After all, it’s what friends do.’
‘No.’ She speared him with a mutinous look. ‘Friends don’t assume.’
Assume? Now she’d lost him. ‘I’m not assuming anything. I deal in facts. Your X-rays prove you’re injured.’
‘Yes, but this is my practice. These are my patients.’
‘Of course they’re your patients, but I can help both them and you.’ He cast around for an example to prove his point and to shore up his position. ‘For instance, Mackenzie Strickland. Her situation wasn’t urgent so Surfside wouldn’t help her and, yes, technically she could have waited until Monday, but given what she’s going through, I was able to ease her anxiety and save you from overdoing things.’ He smiled at her, trying to connect and crack her granite expression. ‘You know, I got as much of a buzz from telling Mackenzie she’s pregnant as I did recently saving a kid’s life.’
