Just Friends to Just Married?

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Just Friends to Just Married? Page 5

by Scarlet Wilson


  Or him, at the very least.

  She clasped her hands on the table and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I love you, Duc, but it’s time to get a grip on things.’

  The words hit him like a punch to the stomach. He opened his mouth to object, but this new ultra-calm incarnation of Vivienne wasn’t finished with him yet.

  ‘What happened to your mum and dad is awful. Absolutely awful. I admired them, and I know you did too. But they’ve left behind something that matters, Duc. That really matters and if you don’t get a grip, you’re going to ruin everything.’

  He knew that. Of course he knew that. But he couldn’t help how he felt deep down inside. He let out a huge sigh. ‘But this was their dream, Viv. Not mine.’ Even the words felt weary.

  She shot him a look of impatience. ‘It wasn’t just their dream. This is their legacy, Duc. They’ve done so much good—not just at May Mắn Hospital, but at the other two hospitals as well. Think of all the patients who wouldn’t have had treatment. Diseases picked up, infections prevented by immunisations. Can you imagine what would have happened to all those people if your mum and dad hadn’t dreamed big?’

  She was doing the big-picture stuff. The stuff that made him realise how selfish he was being right now. But was it really selfish to work your guts out for ten years to become a surgeon, only to have it whipped away because of a terrible accident and a pile of legalities?

  She took another breath and gave her head a small shake. ‘You don’t have the same drive and passion for the hospital that they had. That Lien has. Maybe that’s just because you’ve never seen it in your plans or your future, but...’ she took a breath ‘...plans change. People have to adjust their plans all the time, and now it’s time to adjust yours.’

  This was her no-argument voice. He’d heard it before.

  ‘May Mắn Hospital is an essential part of the community. Starting tomorrow, things are changing. This afternoon we draw up adverts for another midwife, an obstetrician, and for some admin support. You need someone to keep on top of the paperwork for you.’ She put her hand to her chest. ‘I need some assurance that staff are working safely. I’m going to download all the procedures and protocols from the last place I worked. We’ll adapt them.’ She looked him right in the eye. ‘Together. This is your inheritance, Duc. Your responsibility.’

  She was right. He knew she was right. She reached over and grabbed a bit of cake from under his nose and took a bite.

  He spoke quietly. ‘They inspire me, Viv. Just like they inspire everyone who works with them.’ He grimaced, realising he was still using present tense for his parents. He couldn’t help it.

  He kept going. ‘It’s a lot to live up to. What if I’m not as good as them? What if this really isn’t the job for me? I guess—at the back of my mind—I always thought that if I did come back here, I’d be a fully qualified surgeon. I’d have fulfilled my career ambitions. I’d come back here with a whole lot more experience than I currently have. You said yourself—between them—look at the host of things they covered. Not many doctors have the skill set to do that. Medical issues, infectious diseases, surgery, obstetrics, paediatrics. These are all specialist fields.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘People who come to work here have heard the reputation. They expect to be inspired by the Nguyens.’ He put his hand on his chest. ‘What if they don’t get that from me?’

  She stared out of the window. Her voice was a little wistful, with a tang of slight envy. ‘You don’t get it. You have something. You really have something. Something that can make a difference. Do you know what I inherited from my parents? Probably cancer genes from one and an addictive personality from the other.’

  Another punch to the stomach. He got it. He did.

  He’d had a family. He’d had years of love and support from his parents. Viv had never experienced anything like that. No wonder she was calling him out.

  He hung his head, watching his career in surgery waving goodbye for the time being.

  Her voice cut into his thoughts again. Her hand brushed against his. ‘And why won’t people be inspired by you, Duc? I am. Always have been.’ She let the words hang between them for a few seconds. He didn’t really even have time to process them before she started again. ‘And you can’t be miserable.’

  ‘What?’ Now he frowned.

  She pointed a finger. ‘You can’t act as if this is the last place you want to be. You have to be positive. You have to try and get the staff to embrace the changes. If you walk around with a long face, either Lien will end up punching you or I will. This can only work if you make it work.’ She spoke quietly. ‘The staff need you right now—not just the patients. They’re bereaved too. Your mum and dad were reliable and loyal to their staff. They knew everything about them. You need to fill that gap.’

  Nothing like piling on the pressure. But in a way he needed this. Only Viv knew when he needed a kick up the backside, and she was exactly the person to do it. And it wasn’t just that. It was the fire and determination in her eyes as she said it. It sent endorphins flooding through his system in the weirdest possible way. Was this the way Viv looked in the bedroom?

  Where had that thought come from? He gave himself a shake. If it were possible, he’d just shocked even himself.

  It was almost like he could feel a gentle smoke settle around him, resting on his shoulders and making him try and clear his thoughts.

  Behaving like a kid and shouting, ‘This isn’t fair!’ in between grieving for his parents wouldn’t do any good at all. Mixing it up with weird thoughts about Viv made it even more confusing.

  He had to get his head back into the game. He pulled his eyes away from that pendant dangling down her neck and resting on her curves.

  He would ask for a temporary suspension from the surgical programme. He would have a meeting with all the staff at the hospital to tell them they all had to try and work together to do business as usual.

  He’d get to the job adverts. He’d let Viv take the lead on the midwifery protocols. His head was already forming a list of admin tasks for the new assistant, not least finding some computer software that could help with the rota systems of three separate hospitals.

  Viv’s blue eyes met his. He was ready for a whole new onslaught but she seemed to realise that in this case less was more. She pushed the remaining doughnut towards him. ‘Eat up.’ She gave him an easy smile. ‘Somehow I think you’re going to need it.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FOR THE FIRST week she wondered if she’d been too harsh. As she replayed the shock on Duc’s face in the lawyer’s office, and then again once they’d got outside, she wondered if she’d almost crossed the line into being a little mean.

  Part of her got it. He was literally watching his career dreams slip through his fingers like grains of sand on the beach. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told the lawyer that the competition for positions was tough. He’d now requested a temporary suspension. Who knew if the hospital board would look on his request kindly or not?

  Viv had downloaded a whole heap of maternity protocols and Mai Ahn, the translator, had helped her translate them into Vietnamese. She now had folders with protocols in both languages, with the most important laminated and put up in the non-clinical areas as visual reminders.

  The job adverts had been written and placed. The schedule had been juggled amongst the existing doctors. The antenatal clinics were busy. There were a few patients giving them cause for concern, and Vivienne had arranged a few case conference calls with an obstetrician in the main city hospital to get some professional expertise and to put plans in place.

  Whilst there was a first flurry of activity, she quickly learned that within May Mắn hospital it paid to be adaptable.

  The antenatal clinics only ran two days a week. The rest of the time, if there wasn’t a woman currently in labour, she had a little time on her hands.
Yes, she could put plans in place for different ways of doing things, service enhancements and a review of all equipment, but most of all Viv was conscious of how much she was currently treading water.

  The staff was still getting used to Khiem and Hoa not being around. Every now and then someone would mention them as if they were still there, or Viv would catch a wistful look from a staff member lost in their own thoughts.

  It wouldn’t do to try and change too much at once. Not until she’d really had a chance to see what was best for the staff and patients around here. She’d experienced many areas where a new staff member or manager had charged in, full of enthusiastic plans, without taking stock of where they were, or the population they served. Just because something worked wonderfully well in a city landscape, it didn’t mean it would work well in a rural one. She’d seen too many past disasters to create one of her own.

  So Viv had learned to be a willing pair of hands. She dressed wounds, helped with some of the elderly patients, assisted with patient procedures, and even helped out in Theatre when Reuben, the plastic surgeon, visited. She hadn’t quite got to the bottom of what the story was about him. But as soon as he’d heard her accent he’d queried if she was a relative of Joe’s. She’d met his question with amusement. ‘Scotland’s a pretty big place. There is more than one family.’ He’d kept his questions to a minimum after that.

  She liked helping out. Although her first love was midwifery, she enjoyed using her nursing skills elsewhere when it was appropriate and it also helped her get to know all the staff a little better. She still had some challenges with the language, but she was trying hard, and the patients and staff seemed to appreciate it.

  There was something about this place. She normally adapted well to new places. But Hanoi just felt different. A more vibrant community. A more international place. She was quickly learning the places to shop, the street markets to go to and the best places to eat.

  She’d even picked up Lien and Joe’s son a few times from nursery when they’d both been busy at work. Regan was a cute little guy. Whenever she was with him, it was like both their Scottish accents got stronger and stronger. By the time they’d walked the street back to the hospital only Joe could understand them both.

  But she liked it. The staff here welcomed her, included her in things. She’d been for drinks to celebrate a secret wedding, a thirtieth birthday party and a buffet party at someone’s house. It was nice to feel included. With the exception of being around Duc, it had been a long time since she’d felt like that.

  She turned the corner to the offices and saw Duc sitting behind his father’s desk. Even she still thought of it as Khiem’s, so how must he feel?

  She stopped in the doorway and folded her arms. ‘Hey,’ she said softly.

  He looked up, his eyes tired. ‘Hey, yourself.’ He pushed away the laptop in front of him. ‘How many did you deliver today?’

  She smiled. ‘Just the one. And she was very obliging and perfect in every way.’

  She crossed the room and stood next to him. ‘When was the last time you ate?’

  He didn’t really meet her gaze. For the last few weeks they’d been like ships passing in the night, both of them so busy that there hadn’t been time to sit down together, let alone to eat.

  She cracked a smile. ‘I don’t know, you invite a girl here, get her to work, cover all the shifts, and you can’t even buy her dinner?’

  He met her gaze. He knew she was teasing him. She gave him a nudge. ‘Come on, Mr Cool. Lien and Joe are covering tonight. Joe might have suggested we get out of here for a bit.’

  ‘He did?’

  She nodded. ‘I think they worry. Come on, there must be somewhere good around here you can take me. Can’t remember the last time I had a good dinner.’

  For the briefest second she thought he might try and make some kind of excuse. But he shook his head and stood up, lifting his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘Tell me what you want to eat.’

  She closed her eyes for a second, imagining her dream dinner. ‘Fish. Sea bass if it’s available anywhere around here.’

  He looked at her burgundy scrubs. ‘I know just the place, but you’d better get changed.’

  She wrinkled her nose and stretched out the leg of her scrubs. ‘What, you don’t like the colour?’

  He shook his head. ‘Come on.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll call and make us a reservation. Can you be ready in half an hour?’

  ‘Race you.’ There was a glint in her eye. He wanted to laugh out loud. Whenever they’d worked together it had been a standing joke that you didn’t want to be in Viv’s way when she was racing to the hospital canteen. It seemed that nothing had changed. He smiled. There was something about the familiarity that spread a warm feeling throughout him. Viv was the last real person he had a connection to—a connection that felt as if it counted. As he turned to close the door to the office the paperwork on the desk caught his eye.

  Out of nowhere a thought shot into his head. Routine hospital paperwork included the patient giving their next of kin. His skin prickled. He’d only had a few hospital admissions his entire life. A few stitches as a kid. A broken wrist. It didn’t matter that he’d been an adult for years and had never needed to name a next of kin. But if he needed to, who would he name now?

  Vivienne. Her name washed through him. Now his next of kin would be Vivienne. There was no one else. As he pulled the door closed another thought crossed his mind—one he’d never considered before. For as long as he’d known her, Vivienne had had no close relations. So who did she name?

  * * *

  She stepped out of the bedroom after pulling the sides of her hair back with a delicate clasp that Lien had loaned her.

  Duc made a noise just to her left. She spun around and looked down. ‘What? Is there a mark on it?’

  He had a strange expression on his face. She’d grabbed one of the few nicer pieces in her wardrobe. She’d only ever worn it once before. A red knee-length, off-the-shoulder fitted dress. It hugged her curves, the thick red lace bonded over a perfectly matched lining.

  She slid her feet into her heels. The only jewellery she was wearing was her butterfly pendant. Her fingers went to her neck. She knew it didn’t really match, but she didn’t like to take it off.

  Duc was still staring at her. He’d changed into dark trousers, a white shirt and a matching dark jacket. ‘What’s this?’ she joked. ‘The James Bond look?’

  His eyes were wide. She’d moved over right next to him. She glanced down again self-consciously. ‘What is it?’ She twisted from side to side, trying to see if there was a split in one of her side seams.

  It was almost as if Duc had been in a trance. He blinked and shook his head, a smile dancing at the edges of his lips. ‘I’ve never really seen you in real party gear. It suits you. You should wear it more often. Just like the business look the other day—you almost scared me.’

  She lifted her eyebrows. ‘The business look? Duc, those are my interview clothes.’ She gave a half-shrug, then a little nod of her head. ‘To be honest, they’ve been pretty lucky. I’ve got every job I’ve ever gone for in that outfit.’

  He laughed. ‘You’d get every job in that red dress too. Where have you been hiding that?’

  She ran her hands across her stomach, smoothing down the fabric. ‘I saw it in a shop window, walked in and bought it. I never even tried it on—to be honest, I’m lucky that it fitted.’ She gave a sigh. ‘I bought it out of spite really.’

  ‘Spite?’ Now he was intrigued. ‘What do you mean?’

  She held up one hand to her hair. ‘I’m a redhead, you might have noticed, and I spent my entire childhood with people telling me I couldn’t wear red—no matter how much I liked the colour—that it just didn’t suit me. So, I saw the dress, had just been paid, and decided I was buying it.’

  He gave her a soft smile.
‘Well, from where I’m standing, it was a good decision. A great decision.’ He lifted a hand a tugged a little strand of her hair forward. ‘Your hair’s a dark red, it’s dramatic. It suits it perfectly.’

  She looked up into his dark eyes. Duc didn’t normally give her compliments—they were more the type of friends to constantly spar with each other. This felt...different. For the first time she wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  He tilted his elbow out towards her. ‘Shall we?’

  She grinned. ‘I’d love to.’

  As they reached the door, he grabbed her coat. ‘Did you put on your mosquito repellent?’

  She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Of course I did.’

  He gave a nod. ‘Still, better cover up. Your dress is gorgeous, but for the mosquitos you show too much skin.’

  She sighed and slipped her hands into the coat, fastening it up to the neck. ‘By the time we reach the restaurant I will be a humid mess.’

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not far.’

  They walked across the grass, through the hospital, and out into the main street.

  There was something nice about getting away from the hospital. They’d rarely left the premises together since they’d got here.

  Duc pointed out some of the local places to Viv. ‘It’s been five years since you were last here. This is the place the food cart stops during the day. It has the best noodle soups, like hủ tiếu—the pork base with noodles—and bún riêu—the crab and tomato broth—which are the nicest. Then there’s bánh mì, with freshly baked baguettes that just melt in your mouth. But remember, most street food vendors here change their menu every day. Try and make it when the chả giò—the crispy spring rolls—are on.’

  Vivienne was rapidly trying to store all the words in her brain. ‘You know I have been walking around here, finding my own favourite places.’

  ‘You have?’ He looked surprised.

  ‘Of course I have.’ She laughed. ‘I’m a big girl. I get out and about. I’ve lived in ten different cities. I’ve learned to find the best food.’ She laughed again. ‘You know food’s my priority. It’s almost like I have an inbuilt antenna. But I might need to make a few notes in my phone.’

 

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