by Kate Hardy
But at the end of the day his patient had died. He sighed. ‘Pauline’s going to be covered in bruises from the chest compressions.’
‘But she’s here to tell the tale. Thanks to you.’
‘And to the rest of the team.’
‘But mainly to you,’ she said. ‘Because you’re the one who spotted it was a silent heart attack. You were partway through doing the assessments and sorting out her blood sugar when she crashed.’
‘I guess.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I ought to go.’
‘You don’t have to.’
He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Oh, but I do. Because I’m having inappropriate thoughts—seriously inappropriate thoughts—about you. And I’m not going to use you to make me feel better, Hayley. You deserve more than that.’
In answer, she reached up to kiss him again.
The next thing he knew, they were lying full-length on her sofa. His hands were under her top and his own top was somewhere on the floor.
‘Um,’ he said. ‘Sorry. This wasn’t meant to happen.’
‘I know.’ She stroked his face. ‘We’re supposed to be just colleagues. Friends, maybe.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Except I remember Iceland.’
‘So do I,’ he said softly. ‘So what are we going to do about it?’
‘The sensible thing would be for you to leave right now and go home,’ she said.
But the way she said it sounded as if she thought there was an alternative. ‘Or?’ he asked.
‘Or,’ she said, ‘I have a washing machine. I could run your things through it.’
Just he’d done for her, the night she’d stayed at his flat in Iceland.
‘Which would your preferred option be?’ he asked carefully.
‘Both options are complicated.’
He frowned. ‘How?’ Surely him going home would put an end to things?
‘We have work tomorrow. If you stay and we arrive at the hospital together—especially with you walking next to me, pushing your bike—the hospital rumour mill will go into overdrive.’
‘Fair point.’ He paused. ‘And if I don’t stay?’
‘Then, if I’m honest, I think we’re going to be delaying the moment rather than avoiding it altogether.’
‘So if it doesn’t happen now, it’s going to happen sometime?’ he asked.
She nodded.
He knew she was right. He was finding it harder and harder to resist her. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted her. ‘So,’ he said, ‘it might be less complicated if I stay.’
‘Except I don’t want gossip. And you know how I feel about relationships within a department—it’s a bad idea.’ She drew in a breath. ‘So this has to stay just between you and me.’
Keeping their relationship secret. As if she had no faith in him. He felt sick. He’d been here before. Lynda hadn’t had enough faith in him to stick by him when he’d been suspended. What was the point in starting another relationship that wasn’t going to last the distance? One where Hayley didn’t even want people to know they were seeing each other in the first place?
‘And I don’t mean this to be like some dirty little secret,’ she said, as if picking up on his thoughts. ‘I just don’t like being the centre of everyone’s conversation, with people suddenly shutting up and looking guilty when you walk into the room.’
The penny dropped. After her partner had been killed, people would have talked about her, worried about her—and she’d obviously hated it.
And then something else hit him. She’d said she didn’t approve of relationships within a department. ‘Did your partner work in the emergency department?’ he asked.
‘No. I think it would have been worse if he had. People meant well. But I hated everyone talking about me.’ She blew out a breath. ‘It just takes time, until you’re ready to move on.’
Had their fling in Iceland helped her to move to the place where she was ready to start a new relationship? Or was she still stuck?
Sam only realised he’d spoken aloud when she said, ‘Both. I want to move on. I know Evan wouldn’t have wanted me to grieve for ever—just as, if it had been the other way round, I would have wanted him to find someone who loved him as much as I had.’
That, Sam thought, was the difference between Lynda and Hayley. Hayley had loved her partner for who he was. Lynda had loved the idea of what Sam could be: a mover, a shaker, CEO of a different hospital. Her career plan for both of them meant that, once he’d reached the top, he would’ve worked in partnership with her to develop a kind of super-hospital. Except that wasn’t what Sam had wanted. He’d wanted to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and be a doctor—to spend his days with patients and feel that he’d been able to make a real difference to their lives.
He hadn’t talked to Hayley about what she wanted from her career, but from working with her he was pretty sure that she didn’t want to work in the admin side. Like him, she seemed to prefer treating her patients.
‘So if we weren’t working together, would you consider dating me?’ he asked, wanting it out in the open.
‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ She raked a hand through her hair. ‘Do you want me to be honest?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is complicated,’ she warned.
‘Tell me anyway.’
‘OK.’ She took a deep breath. ‘There’s something between us. There has been right from when I first met you. I want to do something about it, but then I feel guilty because of Evan. And then I feel stupid for feeling guilty, because he wouldn’t want that. And then I feel ashamed of being such an idiot. And then I feel scared about starting all over again.’
‘I think,’ he said, ‘you’re warm and kind and caring—and it’s natural to feel guilty and awkward and scared. How long were you and Evan together?’
‘Two and a half years. You?’
‘Three, so I know what you mean. It’s starting all over again, finding someone you’re attracted to and someone that you’ve got a lot in common with. And you’re always going to compare the new relationship to the old, and wonder if you’re doing the right thing.’ Or making the same mistake. Not that he was going to tell her that right now.
‘And wondering if everyone’s going to judge you and think it’s too soon...’
‘Does it matter what other people think?’ he asked.
‘I guess not.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘As I said before, it’s complicated.’
‘That pretty much sums up life,’ he said. ‘You brought me here tonight to feed me and give me a hug. To offer me comfort after a rough day.’ He paused. ‘But I think you need comfort, too, right now. And maybe we can both help each other towards a better place.
‘You mean, having sex to take our minds off things?’
‘Yes and no.’ He stroked her face. ‘As you say, it’s complicated.’ He liked her: she was straightforward with their colleagues, compassionate and kind with their patients and their relatives, and outside work she was funny and clever and sweet. ‘We want to see each other—and at the same time we’re scared of starting something that might go wrong. A no-strings fling doesn’t feel quite right, but are either of us really ready for a new relationship?’
‘I don’t have any answers,’ she said. ‘But can we keep it simple for now, until we work out what we want and where this is going? Keep it just between you and me?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and kissed her.
She stood up, taking his hand, and led him to her bedroom. Like the rest of the flat, it had light-coloured furniture and cream walls, and everything was neat and orderly. And he liked the framed print of a bluebell wood that hung over the bed. The whole place just radiated calmness, much like Hayley herself.
He was about to kiss her when he remembered something important. ‘We can’t
do this. At least, not right now.’
She blinked. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t have any condoms.’
‘I do.’
Which was odd, because he was pretty sure that Hayley Clark didn’t take men to bed on a casual basis. Their fling in Iceland had been based on strong pull of attraction, something that was still bubbling below the surface.
But he let it go. Right now he really wanted to kiss her again. Make love with her. Lose himself in her and let her lose herself in him. And he had the strongest feeling that it was just the same for her.
She pulled the curtains and turned on the bedside light. He switched off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the warm light of the lamp, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
This felt so good, so right.
And when they’d made love and he’d dealt with the condom and she’d dealt with the laundry, it felt good to curve his body round hers, drawing her back against him. Back in his own flat, he would’ve been brooding over the events of the day. Here, with her, he felt as if he was starting to heal.
* * *
The next morning, Hayley woke just before her alarm, warm and comfortable.
Apart from that one night they’d spent together in Iceland, this was the first time she’d woken in someone’s arms for more than a year. Part of her still felt a bit disloyal to Evan, but part of her felt that it was so good not to be alone and to wake sharing the day with someone else.
She twisted round in his arms, and woke him with a kiss. ‘Hey, sleepy. We’re on early shift.’
He was wide awake almost instantly. ‘How long does it take to get to the hospital from here?’
‘We’ve both got time for a shower and breakfast,’ she said. ‘You have the first shower while I get your stuff out of the washer-dryer. There are clean towels in the airing cupboard.’
‘Thank you. If you have an iron,’ he said, ‘I’d appreciate borrowing it to get the creases out of my shirt.’
She liked the fact that he hadn’t immediately assumed that she’d iron his shirt for him, even though she wouldn’t have minded doing it. ‘No problem.’
‘And I’ll make breakfast while you shower,’ he said.
‘Thanks—that’d be good.’
By the time she’d finished sorting out the laundry, set up the ironing board and made some coffee, he’d appeared with a towel wrapped round his waist and his hair still damp from the shower. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’ he asked.
‘There’s bacon and ketchup in the fridge and bread in the cupboard,’ she said. ‘If that works for you?’
‘It does. Leave it to me,’ he said.
When she’d had her shower and dressed, she headed back to the kitchen.
‘Perfect timing,’ he said, and assembled a sandwich for her.
‘Thanks.’ Evan hadn’t been able to cook at all; they’d joked that he could burn water and keep his whole crew busy if he actually tried to make breakfast.
But Evan had never seen the inside of this flat. Hayley had negotiated an early termination of the lease on the flat they’d shared together, unable to bear walking in the door and not seeing him there. This flat was much smaller, but it was handy for work and it suited her just fine.
This was her life now.
And she’d promised Dani that she’d live it to the full.
‘Thank you for last night,’ Sam said. ‘You’re right—I was reliving that case in Manchester, and I needed someone to push me out of it. To make me put one foot in front of the other, as you said.’
‘No problem,’ she said. She’d had people to do that for her after Evan had been killed—people who’d made her eat and get out of the flat and function. Though she had a feeling that there was something Sam hadn’t told her. The man she’d been working with was bright and capable. Although anyone would have their confidence knocked by being suspended during an investigation, he’d known that he’d done all the right things for his patient and he’d been exonerated. Why hadn’t his partner supported him through the investigation? Had she been related to the patient he’d lost, maybe, and blamed him for it? Or had they broken up just before the investigation and he’d maybe thought that he’d been distracted by the break-up and not asked the right questions of his patient, so he felt as if it was all his fault?
It wasn’t something she could ask straight out: the questions were harsh and obtrusive. And she couldn’t quite work out how to frame them in a kinder or more tactful way.
Thankfully, he changed the subject. ‘We need to reschedule your race training. Dani’s right, running outside isn’t the same as running inside. Are you free after work tonight, or are you training indoors with Dani?’
‘It’s meant to be a day off,’ she said, ‘so we’ll swap it for yesterday. If you don’t mind, that is.’
‘No. We’ll do a run in the park tonight.’ He paused. ‘Are you, um, free at the weekend? We could maybe do something.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said. It was going to be strange, dating again. But if she didn’t let herself think about the dangerous things Sam liked to do in his free time—or the fact that he’d signed up to the MERIT roster—maybe she could do this. Maybe she could move on from the sadness of the past and find a new future with Sam.
When they’d finished their sandwiches, he insisted on washing up.
And then he paused. ‘So I guess I’ll see you at work? And then for the running training after.’
‘OK. Be careful on the roads.’
‘I will.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘See you on the ward.’
She bit her lip. ‘And as far as work’s concerned—’
‘We’re colleagues and starting to be just good friends,’ he said. ‘Got it.’
Which was what she wanted. But the hint of hurt in his eyes, quickly masked, made her feel guilty. It wasn’t so much relationships in the department that bothered her—it was the gossip. Even when it was meant well.
* * *
Over the next couple of weeks, Sam and Hayley grew closer. He was careful to be strictly professional with her at work, and although he did the outdoor training runs with her when it was just the two of them, everyone knew it was under Dani’s instructions and he was just helping out as a friend. When they went out on a date, it always seemed to be somewhere a little out-of-the-way, so they’d be less likely to bump into someone from work.
Though she refused flatly to go on the team night out he’d organised for the middle of October. ‘You’ve got to be insane, Sam. Go-karting’s risky enough by itself, but go-karting on ice?’
‘They have special tyres,’ he said. ‘It’s safe. I don’t understand why you’re worrying.’
‘You’re a thrill-seeker,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘I like extreme sports that make my heart beat a bit faster, yes. It makes me feel alive.’
‘You’re crazy,’ she said.
He didn’t understand why she was so antsy about it. She’d been fine about glacier walking; she’d enjoyed it, even.
And then a nasty thought hit him. He wanted things to work out between him and Hayley, but she was so critical about the things that he found fun—just as Lynda had been. Although Hayley wasn’t Lynda, was he making a similar mistake? Was he subconsciously ignoring signs of trouble if he ignored her criticisms?
He pushed the thought away. He was being unfair. Hayley was one of the good guys.
‘Come with us,’ he said. ‘Even if you don’t want to do any of the actual driving, you can still have a drink and something to eat with us.’
‘It’s really, really not my thing,’ she said. ‘Have fun. But I’ll be on duty so someone else on the team who actually wants to do it can go and join in.’
He couldn’t argue with that. But it did make him wo
nder if there was something she wasn’t telling him. Was it to do with her late fiancé? He needed to find a tactful way to ask.
* * *
The day of Sam’s team outing, Hayley was working. Have fun, she texted him, even though she wished he’d picked something less dangerous to do. Then again, he could’ve suggested abseiling or the rap jumping he’d shown her on his phone, which would’ve been even worse.
Why, why, why did he have to be an adrenaline junkie?
And how was she ever going to silence her fears?
He hadn’t been called out on the MERIT roster yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. And if that call-out involved a fire...
‘Stop it,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t trouble trouble.’ And she forced herself to concentrate on her patients.
Halfway through the afternoon, Sam walked into the department, looking slightly shamefaced, accompanied by Josh Willoughby, one of their newest junior doctors.
‘Josh? What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘I had a little bit of an accident,’ Josh said, hanging his head. ‘I, um, might have cracked a rib.’
‘While you were go-karting on ice.’ She gave Sam a pointed look.
‘It was great fun, Hayley,’ Josh said. ‘Don’t blame Sam. It’s my own fault. I was showing off, going too fast, and I missed a corner.’
‘Did you hit your head or anything?’ She looked at Sam. ‘Has he shown any signs of concussion?’
‘I didn’t hit my head; I just banged my ribs. I heard a crack and it hurts, which is why I think I broke it. But I definitely don’t have flail chest,’ Josh said. ‘I can breathe just fine. A broken rib will heal itself within a month and all I need to do now is to take painkillers—if I don’t get the pain under control properly I’ll breathe too shallowly and I might end up with a chest infection.’
She couldn’t help smiling at his earnestness. ‘Did you learn that at uni or from us?’
‘A bit of both,’ Josh said with a smile. ‘Sam’s already checked me out and I know I’m fine.’
