Chapter Four
Liddy only caught brief glimpses of him after that as he made his way from patient to patient with sister and a gaggle of med students in tow. Speeding around the ward answering bells, speaking to patients and arranging admissions and discharges she kept well out of his way – she wasn’t completely sure why.
Sister Slater was waiting for her as soon as he left the ward. She didn’t even provide her with the luxury of privacy before accusing her of making sheep’s eyes at consultants - Liddy had to stand there and take it, hands neatly folded in front of her. Then she made her spend the remainder of the afternoon cleaning out the bulging store cupboards at the end of the ward. These were a depository for unclaimed property, broken equipment and drip stands - and cleaning them out was always a nightmare. Property had to be matched with its owners, equipment had to be cleaned and sent for repair, but God only knew what she was meant to do with the set of false teeth she’d found lurking right at the back.
When she eventually descended the four flights of stairs that led to the staff canteen it was already seven o’clock and she was visibly limping, not to mention being covered with dust and cobwebs. Grabbing a tray she chose a far from awe-inspiring limp salad and over ripe banana from the left overs available, knowing all too well if she didn’t eat now there was only bread at home, and there was only so many meals one could make with toast as the primary ingredient.
Looking around for an empty table she was vaguely aware of ‘The White Coats,’ that occupied the largest one by the window. Heading in the opposite direction she found a spare seat beside her best friend Sorcha. Sorcha was as blond as Liddy was dark with long straight hair caught up in a tortoiseshell clip at the base of her neck. As different from her as chalk and cheese, she was always in a relationship with one or other of the doctors while Liddy was always on the side lines too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice the admiringly glances sent her way.
While she ate her meal she quietly absorbed the ebb and flow of the conversation around her, especially as most of it revolved around Professor Merrien.
‘Well I heard that he’s taken over from Dr Adams,’ said Iris, a pale skinny red head at the end of the table. ‘Apparently he specialises in head injuries and was at med school with John Michaels, so that explains it.’
‘I can’t wait to meet him - I hear he’s a real hunk! So does anybody know if he’s married then?’ Questioned Sorcha who, despite all her partying only wanted to settle down.
‘No, although I heard he was in a long term relationship a couple of years ago, but she broke it off - wedded to his work, or so Roisin from ICU said.’
‘You know what they say, all work and no play. More fool her! If I was engaged to the gorgeous “Professor MM” I’d drag him down the altar super quick for a ring through his nose.’ Added Sorcha on a laugh, causing the whole table to erupt into howls of laughter around her.
‘Shush, he’ll hear you.’ interrupted Liddy, looking nervously over her shoulder only to encounter those same blue eyes staring back at her. She felt like a rabbit in the headlights, in the split second before dragging her gaze away. If he didn’t know that he was the topic of conversation before he did now! God, he’d probably think she was talking about him and that was so not the case. Yes, he was on her mind, of course he was after bumping into him like that, but she didn’t want to talk about him. She couldn’t even think about him without blushing scarlet.
Liddy felt Sorcha’s eyes on her and offered a smile of thanks as she changed the subject.
‘Hey did any of you read that article in today’s paper about…..’
‘Not all of us have the time to read the paper, Sorcha. My feet haven’t touched the ground all day,’ interrupted Freddie, from across the table.
‘Hark at you, I read it in my coffee break so there! Listen up, it’s to do with weddings and as you’re the only one engaged it should be of interest.’
‘Oh God, here we go again. What’s with you and your bloody surveys anyway?’
‘For heaven’s sake just shut up and listen, you might learn and thing or two! Sorcha fired back. ‘Perhaps you’d like to rethink those shoes you bought for under your dress for a start. What were you thinking with all those little bells anyway?’ She retorted, before turning her back. ‘You’re sure going to regret them clanking along to the wedding march, just like my survey in fact. That’s right girls,’ she added, with a quick glance around the table. ‘Apparently ninety five percent of brides would like to change at least one thing about their wedding.’
‘Yeah, the groom,’ Butted in Liddy.
‘Shut up! You of all people should embrace marriage being as you’re the perfect girlfriend,’ interjected Iris, a nasty smile pulling at her lips.
Oh no here we go again! Ever since that bloody survey she’d been the butt of every joke. Even the man in the corner shop, where she bought her milk had mentioned it. Perfect girlfriend indeed – what did she have to feel so perfect about?
‘Er, you’re missing something Iris.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, in order to be the perfect girlfriend, there needs to be a perfect boyfriend.’
‘And your point is?’
‘My point is he doesn’t exist. All we get around here are the likes of Donal who isn’t exactly ‘Perfect Boyfriend’ material with that little problem of his.’ She said, before starting to peel her banana.
‘Don’t talk tosh! He will for you one day - what with your perfect bod, topped off by those big bazookas of yours.’
Liddy paused, mid bite, more shocked than hurt by Iris’s comment. While she knew they weren’t the best of friends, she hadn’t realised until that moment she’d an enemy in her midst. She shrugged off the comment resignedly. Over the years she’d had a wealth of unwanted attention directed towards the size of her chest - although it must be said most of them had come from the boys in her class and not the girls in her set. There was nothing she could do, other than to have surgery and that was a bit drastic. Her mum was the same and she’d managed to cope and so would she. It was just a shame that the likes of Iris couldn’t see that. Being rude to someone about their appearance, something that they couldn’t control was completely out of order.
‘That’s not very nice.’
‘Yes, well if the shoe fits. The way you point them at men - it’s disgusting!’
Liddy still looked the same, sitting there with the banana held aloft in her hand - but something deep inside snapped in two. Like a precious heirloom never to be replaced, it felt like her faith and belief in human nature from that moment forward would always be fractured. She could paper over the damage, but there was nothing she would ever be able to do to shove those words back into Iris’s face. Could a soul be broken, a will, a determination even?
She just sat there, the moment unravelling into eternity. She didn’t move; she couldn’t. She didn’t even dare to breathe. She was filthy dirty from the cupboard and now Iris had made her feel filthy dirty too. Who gave her the right to criticise? Who gave her the right to comment, sitting there in her perfect world with her perfect boyfriend and her perfect pair of size 32 b’s. She didn’t have to go around in baggy tops just so men would look her in the eye when they talked to her. She’d had the morning from hell, what with Bridie and the Prof and now she had to contend with this, when all she wanted was five minutes peace and quiet. She stared at nothing, seeing everything. What would Bridie do? What would Bridie say? She knew suddenly, just as if she was sitting at the table that she wouldn’t put up with bloody this!
‘Just because yours are like two fried eggs stuck to the pan in search of a sausage! We all know you only managed to get Eric to go out with you by getting your boobs out at every opportunity.’ She smashed her untouched banana against the table. ‘So what’re you getting him for Christmas anyway - a microscope?’
She pushed herself away from the table and would have stood up to leave, except for Sorcha’s hand on her arm.
‘Liddy just ignore her, she’s only jealous. Come on and finish your tea.’ She added, pushing the cup into her hands.
She paused mid-flight because of the pressure on her arm and stayed because of the look of concern that flashed across her best friend’s face. She loved her like a sister; she loved her enough to be eased back into her seat and back into the conversation.
‘So how’s your TBI lady?’
Nula looked up questioningly, her mouth full of tinned peaches.
‘Traumatic brain injury.’ Explained Sorcha, turning back to catch Liddy’s gaze.
‘Oh, so so,’ She said on a breath. She didn’t really want to speak about Bridie, especially not now in front of the two opposite. Whilst there was nothing worse than the hospital grapevine for gossip, there was nothing better when it came to protecting one’s patients. Sorcha only knew because she’d been on duty in A&E when she’d been admitted.
‘What you need is a night out to keep your mind off her. All work and no play, as they say. There’s a med student bash tomorrow night - why don’t you come along for the craic, you never know - you might enjoy it. Anyway don’t you think it’s about time you put Donal out of his misery one way or the other!’
‘I’m not sure.’ She’d never attended one of those monthly excuses to get drunk before, what would be the point! But now she asked herself why? What was stopping her from letting her hair down and just having a good time. Her mind pulled her towards Bridie - perhaps she was letting life pass her by. Perhaps she needed to change things a little. She pulled a face. Perhaps she needed to change things a lot, or she’d find she’d left it too late to be asked.
‘I’m only on till two, but it’s not payday till next week and I’ve nothing suitable to wear.’
‘Yeah and in your case I know that’s true. So how many pairs of jeans and sweatshirts do you own anyway? Okay you know I’m only teasing. Tell you what, why don’t you come around after work tomorrow - we can share a pizza and bitch about Donal before raiding my wardrobe for something suitable. It’s about time you wore something a little more flattering, Cinders!’
Liddy rolled her eyes. ‘I like my sweats, they’re comfortable.’ She replied, just as she clocked the time and started to gather her still full dishes together - to be late twice in one day would be unthinkable. ‘I’d better rush - SS is on the warpath again. See you in the changing rooms later.’
Chapter Five
The next two hours went in a blur. Once visiting time had finished it seemed as if all the call bells rang at once, with everyone clambering for the toilet and then bed. There were hot drinks to give out, clothes to be folded and visitors to round up. It was ten to eight before Liddy got around to tidying up Bridie’s bed ready for her transfer back from ITU later on that night. She stripped and remade her bed before clearing her belongings back into her locker. Placing her dressing gown on the rail she noticed a funky black patchwork jacket hanging limply from a wooden coat hanger. She was reaching out to feel the thick wool between her fingers when she spotted some tiny little orange hairs scattered randomly across the fabric.
Oh, she wasn’t all alone then. At least she had her cat to keep her company.
It struck her like a thunderbolt - cat not bat. Of course, that’s why she’d been so anxious. Of all the stupid eejits, why didn’t she tell the speech therapist about it when she’d visited? She’d have been able to understand her. She closed the locker with a sigh and tried to remember just how long Bridie had been a patient. Four days! She’d been here four days already, not including the time she’d have had to hang around A&E waiting for a bed. How long could an animal survive without food and water anyway – not long! No wonder she’d been so distressed since her admission; she must have been worried sick about her pet. How could we all have been so stupid not to realise? She headed towards the sluice in search of the other student nurse on duty.
‘Hey, Mhaire, cover for me would you? I’m just nipping across to ITU for a mo.’
‘Are you brave or stupid? They’ll be out of report in a minute.’
‘I’ll be back before they even know I’m gone – tell them I needed the loo or something.’ She called over her shoulder as she left the ward.
Bridie was just as she’d left her, eyes closed against the dim glare of the ward lights. Awake or asleep, it was difficult to tell, but at least she was peaceful. Thankfully there was no one about to ask - but it wouldn’t have mattered if there had been. Bridie was more important than a telling off. Bridie was more important than her job come to think of it. After the way Iris had spoken to her earlier she was in two minds as to whether to pop into the main office on her way home and tender her resignation.
Looking down at the still figure swathed in bandages she realised with a flash of insight that, however tough her life seemed at the moment it was nothing in comparison to what this girl faced. She was only a handful of years older than her.
One misplaced step and the course of her life had been altered irretrievably. Oh, they’d probably get her better. They’d send her out to the rehab centre in Rathcoole for intensive physiotherapy, but would she ever be the confident beautiful young thing with the world at her feet? Liddy knelt beside the bed and gently took hold of her hand. She couldn’t do much at this time of night, but first thing tomorrow she’d make sure Bridie’s social worker started earning her pay!
‘Bridie, I’m so sorry - I know about your cat now. He’ll be safe, I promise.’ There was no response from the quiet pale girl, except perhaps for a slight change in her breathing. She hadn’t really expected one, but all good nurses knew that hearing was the last sense to go and, in that split second she knew Bridie had heard her.
It was pitch dark when she eventually left the ward cursing every blue eyed doctor in the hospital as she went. There was no way she was going to be able to cycle home so, unless Sorcha let her camp at her place. It was that or the bus.
‘Hi, sorry about earlier.’
She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice, but decided not to turn around.
‘Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.’
‘And I’m Mitch. Mitch Merrien, pleased to meet you.’
She looked up and found he was now standing in front of her, arm extended.
‘It’s a bit late for introductions don’t you think. You’ve already had me spread eagled on the floor.’ She caught his intent gaze and couldn’t prevent the smile that tugged at her lips. It was funny in a way and, as she was going to have to work with him she might as well forgive and forget – although how she was ever going to forget the feel of his body pushing against hers was another matter! She placed her hand briefly in his before hiding it within the folds of her cardigan.
‘And I’m Liddy Murphy, year three student nurse and all time “Bottom Washer” on the Head Injury Unit.’
‘Really? How lucky is that! Now the formalities are out of the way; we’ve both had a bitch of a day - so what about supper?’
Liddy’s expression remained unchanged as she let his words flow over her like paint stripper. Whilst part of her wanted to accept, another part remembered just what she was wearing. And that wasn’t taking into account that he was a Professor. There was no way someone like him should be speaking to her let alone asking her out, even if it was only for a Big Mac.
‘I’m busy.’
His smile disappeared. ‘I didn’t say when.’
She widened her eyes. ‘I’d still be busy. We have to work together Professor and I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure - it’s not conducive to good working relationships.’
She watched his face stiffen. It was probably the first time someone had said no to him - well too bad. She’d had enough of men for one day, thank you very much.
‘Ah, but I do insist. As you’ve rightly indicated it’s vital that I have a good working relationship with all of the staff er under me.’ He smiled again. ‘We’ve somehow started off on the wrong foot so…..What about a drink if d
inner’s out?’
Oh God, wasn’t he the persistent one!
Her mind struggled to work out why on earth he’d picked her, even as she mulled over what she was going to tell Sorcha. She probably wouldn’t believe that someone so out of her league had hit on her - she couldn’t believe it herself. And not only hit on her, she reminded herself - asked her out and for dinner too! Free food of any sort was always good, especially at the end of the month. In fact they were both skint so…..
She couldn’t help the start of a smile breaking out as she glanced again at his designer suit and polished shoes. Tonight he was going to get a few lessons on how a true Dub spent their evening, and there wouldn’t be a cocktail shaker or glace cherry in sight.
‘Okay you’re on. We’ll meet you at The Laughing Maguire in ten minutes.’
‘We?’ Her smile broadened at his look of incredulity.
‘Yes we. As you’ve so rightly pointed out it’s important for you to get on with all the staff. This will be a great opportunity for you to meet another of the nurses here.’ She’d prime Sorcha later on being as alluring as possible. He wouldn’t have a chance – she could even now hear the grapevine tearing his reputation to shreds once Sorcha had gotten her claws into him.
Mitch headed for the Doctors Mess, still completely mystified as to why he’d asked her out - unless it was in the way of a challenge? He stalled briefly before continuing down the corridor with renewed vigour. Yeah, that must be it.
John and Petra had been going on and on about him ditching the blonds in favour of ‘The Ideal Girlfriend - A dark haired Irish nurse.’
Well that was a joke for a start. What was ideal about a short and distinctly round woman with a scowl to rival that of a spurned Pekinese? Ideal was arm candy with a degree in good looks and a PHD in bed management. Ideal was a tall aloof blond with fewer curves than a set square – and ideal was the one word he wouldn’t attribute to Liddy Murphy in a million years.
Ideal Girl (Irish Girl, Hospital Romance 1) Page 3
