Praise for
Carol Marinelli:

‘A heartwarming story about taking a chance and not letting the past destroy the future. It is strengthened by two engaging lead characters and a satisfying ending.’

—RT Book Reviews on The Last Kolovsky Playboy

‘Carol Marinelli writes with sensitivity, compassion and understanding, and Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella is not just a powerful romance, but an uplifting and inspirational tale about starting over, new beginnings and moving on.’ —Cataromance.com on St Piran’s: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella

If you love Carol Marinelli you’ll fall head over heels for Carol’s sparkling, touching, witty debut

PUTTING ALICE BACK TOGETHER available from Mira® books

About the Author

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

Recent books by Carol Marinelli: Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™

DR DARK AND FAR-TOO DELICIOUS

(Secrets on the Emergency Wing) SECRETS OF A CAREER GIRL (Secrets on the Emergency Wing) NYC ANGELS: REDEEMING THE PLAYBOY (NYC Angels) SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL: AVA’S REAWAKENING (Sydney Harbour Hospital) HERS FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY? CORT MASON—DR DELECTABLE HER LITTLE SECRET ST PIRAN’S: RESCUING PREGNANT CINDERELLA (St Piran’s Hospital)

Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance A LEGACY OF SECRETS (Sicily’s Corretti Dynasty) PLAYING THE DUTIFUL WIFE BEHOLDEN TO THE THRONE (Empire of the Sands) BANISHED TO THE HAREM (Empire of the Sands) AN INDECENT PROPOSITION A SHAMEFUL CONSEQUENCE

The Surgeon’s Gift
Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CHAPTER ONE

AFTER today, it would only get easier.

Reminding herself for the umpteenth time, Rachael painted on a smile and took a deep breath before entering the office.

‘Don’t tell me you’re the R. Holroyd rostered on for this afternoon?’ The beaming face of Helen Wells was as familiar as it was welcome.

‘The very same.’ Rachael cleared her throat as she dropped her bag to the floor and rummaged on the desk for a handover sheet. ‘Didn’t Admin tell you I was starting back this afternoon?’

‘When did Admin ever tell us anything? It just never clicked, what with the name change and everything. Had they said an R. Carlton was coming back we’d have splashed out on a cheesecake!’ Jumping down off her desk, Helen crossed the room and embraced Rachael in a huge bear hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Rachael.’

‘It’s good to see you, too,’ Rachael answered truthfully. Helen Wells wasn’t only an efficient charge nurse who ran the ward like clockwork, she was a kind woman who looked after her staff and was also a close friend.

Or would have been a close friend if only Rachael had let her.

‘Are you on a late shift?’

Helen nodded. ‘I’m doing a double shift, so I’ve been here all morning as well. We’re as short staffed as ever, so it’s great to see you. But not just for that,’ she added quickly. ‘We’ve all missed you. How are you doing?’

Rachael glanced around the office, smiling at the unsure faces that greeted her. A couple of her colleagues smiled back briefly before pretending to examine their notes, others just downright stared. ‘Fine,’ she replied in a voice that was just a touch too loud and a touch too bright. ‘Although I might revise my opinion once I’ve heard the night shift’s handover. It looks as busy as ever out there.’

‘It certainly is, and if Hugh here would stop tapping away on the computer and let me at the desk, we might be able to get started with handover.’

It was the first time Rachael had even noticed the doctor sitting at the desk, but she had been too busy concentrating on getting this first awkward greeting out of the way. Still, as he stood up, Rachael soon realised he wasn’t the type of man that would usually go unnoticed, unless you lived in Sweden, of course. There, no doubt, six-foot-five blonds with green eyes and clear complexions were falling from the rafters, or yodelling their way down the mountains in droves, or whatever it was gorgeous Swedes did, but here in an inner-city Melbourne hospital they cut quite a dash.

Not, of course, that Rachael was remotely interested, it was a mere statement of fact.

Nothing else.

‘Are you ladies waiting for me? I didn’t realise.’

‘No doubt you’re only too used to keeping the ladies waiting,’ Helen said in a teasing voice.

‘I happen to treat the ladies very well,’ he said with a slow smile in a deep, rich voice with not a trace of a Swedish accent, which discounted that theory. ‘At least, I’ve never had any complaints.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’ Helen said matter-of-factly. ‘One flash of that smile and you’d be forgiven anything. Hugh Connell here is our consultant plastic surgeon and resident heartthrob.’

Definitely nothing else, Rachael decided as she blushed slightly under his scrutiny. The tiny mole on her cheek took on gigantic proportions in her mind, and she automatically assumed that this dashing plastic surgeon was measuring her up for a new nose as he offered his hand.

‘And this is Rachael Holroyd, formerly Carlton, one of our nursing sisters. Rachael’s back with us after a year away.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Rachael smiled accepting his hand.

‘Newly married?’ His eyes were smiling, his question utterly merited, given the snippet of information Helen had so readily parted with, but the gentle pre-handover murmur that had filled the office stilled, the silence broken only by a couple of nervous coughs as Rachael stood there, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

‘Newly divorced, actually.’ In an attempt to sound casual her voice came out too loud, too joky, and as she took her hand away she noticed a flicker of embarrassment flash over Hugh’s face as Rachael’s own colour deepened. ‘And loving every minute,’ she added, but her attempt to inject some humour into the embarrassing exchange only served to increase the awkwardness.

It was Hugh that gave a slightly embarrassed cough this time. ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said, flashing a quick on-off smile which went nowhere near his eyes. With a brief nod he picked up his stethoscope and pager as Rachael sat down, her cheeks burning, trying and failing to focus on the handover sheet in front of her, aware she had made a total fool of herself.

Again.

It was an all too common occurrence these days, almost as if she didn’t know how to react to people any more. Even the most basic of polite exchanges seemed to end in awkward blushes and not for the first time Rachael questioned the wisdom of coming back to work. If she couldn’t deal with her colleagues, what chance would she have with the patients?

But sitting moping at home hadn’t been getting her anywhere, and it certainly wasn’t going to get the bills paid—there really hadn’t been any other choice but to come back to work. Anyway, Rachael consoled herself, at least she wouldn’t have to see that Hugh Connell much—after all, the surgical unit rarely had cosmetic patients. She was reading far too much into it. He’d probably forgotten the whole embarrassing exchange by now.

So what if she had made an idiot of herself?

At least she hadn’t cried.

‘The bad news is that all the beds are full,’ Helen started. ‘But the good news is that at least we can’t accept any more patients. Oh, and, Rachael, I don’t know if you’re aware of it but we’re no longer just a general surgical ward. We’ve got twelve cosmetic beds now or, as Hugh keeps reminding me, twelve ‘plastics’ beds, which doesn’t quite have the same ring to it if you ask me.’

‘Oh, no.’ Rachael let out a groan as she ran her eye down her patient list. So much for avoiding Hugh!

‘Oh, yes!’ Helen said, but without any enthusiasm, completely misinterpreting Rachael’s misgivings. ‘I felt exactly the same.’

‘So when did this happen?’

‘Last month. The refurbishment of the private wing of the hospital is taking longer than expected so, rather than lose the admissions, they’re being ‘blended’ into the public wards—and that’s Admin’s expression, not mine! The surgical wards were all supposed to take eight each, but because our ward’s new and has the best facilities we’ve been lumbered with more than our share.’

‘So they’re private patients?’

Helen rolled her eyes. ‘Private patients on a public ward—not the greatest mix at the best of times, and they’re all constantly pushing their bells, asking for their water jugs to be moved two inches to the right. But what can you expect when they’ve got a doctor like Hugh?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He treats them like china. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is too much trouble for him.’

‘Well, he’s being paid to be nice,’ Rachael grumbled, but Helen shook her head.

‘He’s just nice, full stop, as well as a good doctor, which makes it hard to point out just how difficult it can be. He’d move the jug, so to speak, and move it again and again if it would keep his beloved patients happy. So a word of warning for you when you’re in charge—it doesn’t matter if it’s midnight on New Year’s eve, if one of Hugh’s patients is unwell he wants to be informed. So whereas with most doctors you might sit on things for a while, don’t even think about it with Hugh—he likes to keep his finger on the pulse.’

‘He can keep it on mine.’ Bev, one of the other nurses, laughed.

‘And mine,’ Trevor chimed in, which had everyone in stitches until Helen let out a yelp as she glanced at the clock. ‘Come on, guys, let’s get handover out of the way.’

Rachael knew that once the report was over she wasn’t going to get away that lightly from Helen, and was already half expecting it when Helen called her back as she made her way out onto the ward.

‘Here’s your pager,’ she said, handing Rachael the small fluorescent orange bleeper.

‘What on earth is this for?’

‘You’ve got Orange Bay.’ She laughed at Rachael’s bemused face. ‘The new system is finally under way. Now, when a patient presses the call button, their allocated nurse is alerted directly by their pager.’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Rachael asked, slowly turning the small pager over.

‘Oh, I’m serious all right. You can’t escape for a moment, not even when you go the bathroom. And look at this.’ She tapped the computer in front of her. ‘This records how long it takes for you to answer the call bell—a bit ‘‘Big Brother’’ if you ask me, but you soon get used to it.’

‘And here was me thinking I’d take up where I left off. A year’s a long time in nursing these days.’

‘It’s a long time, full stop,’ Helen said gently. ‘We really have missed you, you know.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re looking great.’

Rachael gave a thin laugh. ‘You mean I’ve lost weight.’

‘Not just that, you look fabulous.’

‘Amazing what a year of stress will do,’ Rachael said dryly. ‘I’m sure Richard would still be able to find fault.’ She tapped the edge of her cheekbone. ‘I mean, look, horror of horrors, I’ve still got a mole.’

Helen rolled her eyes. ‘So have a couple of supermodels I can think of but, then, no doubt, that ex-husband of yours would find fault even with one of them.’

‘Look, Helen, I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls and letters …’

‘You had enough on your mind.’ Helen waved her hand dismissively. ‘I’m just glad that you got them, glad that you knew I was thinking of you. So how are coping?’

‘Getting there.’ Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Helen, I know you mean well, and I don’t want to come across rude, it’s just that …’

‘It’s none of my business?’

‘No,’ Rachael answered quickly, somewhat taken aback at Helen’s take on things. ‘I just can’t talk about it. I know talking is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, but I just can’t, especially not today. It’s hard enough as it is, coming back to work, without bringing it all up.’

‘Fair enough.’ Helen looked at her shrewdly. ‘But if you ever change your mind, you know that I’m here.’

Rachael nodded and turned to go, but Helen hadn’t quite finished. ‘I suppose a girls’ night in with a bottle of wine and a pile of slushy films is out of the question, then?’

‘With no secret agenda?’ Rachael questioned. ‘No waiting for me to open up and reveal all?’

Helen nodded. ‘Scout’s honour. I’ve missed you, Rachael, and our chats.’

There was twenty years’ difference in age between the two women. Helen, happily overweight, blissfully married and successfully juggling four boys with her career, was a world away from a rather brittle Rachael who, as well as being far too thin, was newly single and having enough trouble juggling just getting up in the morning.

‘I’ll bring the videos, you can supply the wine. You did manage to get a couple of decent bottles from the divorce settlement, I hope?’

Rachael grinned. ‘A couple Richard didn’t know about.’

‘I’ll look forward to it, then.’ Helen’s tone changed, adopting a slightly more businesslike attitude she peered at her work sheet. Friends they might be, but at work Helen was definitely the boss.

‘I’ve just given you beds one to four this afternoon. They’re all pretty straightforward—two surgical, two cosmetic, all a couple of days post-op except for Sheila Cosgrove, who’s awaiting her surgery, so hopefully you’ll have a gentle start back.’ As Rachael’s pager sprang into life, Helen started to laugh. ‘Famous last words. Hailey Watkins will run you ragged.’

However, it wasn’t Hailey buzzing but Sheila Cosgrove, eighty years old and awaiting the removal of a large abdominal tumour. The delay in her operation for once had nothing to do with waiting times and bed shortages. Instead, her condition was complicated by a long history of heart problems and other medical ailments which were all causing problems at the moment. Her operation, though necessary, was just too much of a risk while her medical condition was so unstable, and a lot of specialists were playing their parts in getting Sheila relatively well before she underwent surgery.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Cosgrove. I’m Rachael Holroyd, I’ll be looking after you this afternoon. What seems to be the problem?’

‘I’ve got some pain.’

Pulling the curtains around to give Sheila some privacy from the other three patients in the bay, Rachael made her way over to the bed. ‘In your stomach?’ she asked, making to pull back the sheets.

‘No—here.’ Sheila’s hand reached up to her chest as Rachael checked her handover sheet.

‘You suffer with angina—is it the same type of pain?’ Sheila nodded as Rachael checked her drug chart. ‘I’ll go and get you some spray, Sheila, and then I’ll do a set of obs.’

As Rachael made her way swiftly across the small ward, the patient in bed three called her back. ‘Sister?’

‘Yes, Mrs Watkins?’

‘Hailey, please. It’s Rachael, isn’t it? I remember you from last year when it was the old ward—I was in, having my appendix out.’

‘That’s right,’ Rachael said, a smile breaking on her face as she remembered her patient from the previous year. ‘I thought your name sounded familiar.’

‘I said then I’d be back for a breast enlargement before my fortieth birthday, do you remember?’

Rachael didn’t, but she smiled warmly as Hailey chatted on in her slightly dizzy voice. ‘Dr Connell told me I need to drink more. Would you mind filling up my water jug?’

She couldn’t at the moment, Sheila’s chest pain had to take precedence, but Rachael gave an easy smile. ‘Sure, I’m just caught up right now, but I’ll be back in a moment and then I’ll come and make sure you’re comfortable.’

‘Thanks.’ Turning her attention back to her magazine, Hailey suddenly looked up. ‘By the way, what did you have?’

The simple sentence stopped Rachael in her tracks. Half turning to go, she literally froze for a moment, hesitating at Hailey’s question.

‘You were just about to go off on maternity leave when I was in here.’

‘That’s right.’ For something to do, Rachael busied herself pulling out the bedspread and tucking it again, a futile task, and totally needless, but it beat talking about her personal life.

‘So what did you have?’

‘A girl,’ Rachael said with a brisk smile, wheeling Hailey’s table into perfect alignment with her bed and shuffling a pile of magazines into shape. ‘Look, I have to go,’ she said apologetically. ‘I’ll be back to you soon.’

Sheila’s respirations were raised and her hands were shaking so much she wasn’t able to work the little pump spray. Though Rachael had no doubt at all that while Sheila did indeed have chest pain and was having an angina attack, anxiety was playing a large part in her symptoms, exacerbating her pain and generally making things worse. Helping her with the spray, Rachael spoke in gentle tones. Although she had only just met her patient, Rachael noted with satisfaction how her comforting words seemed to be working as gradually Sheila’s respiration rate and pulse settled to a more normal state.

‘I don’t like hospitals,’ Sheila said, sinking back on her pillows.

‘A lot of people don’t. Is the pain easing now?’

Sheila nodded. ‘A bit.’ Her anxious eyes met Rachael’s. ‘Can you stay for a little while?’

‘Of course. We’ll give it a couple more moments and if it hasn’t eased off some more we’ll give you another spray and see about calling the doctor.’ The chiming from her pager was unfamiliar and it took a couple of seconds to turn it off and read the message. Pulling back the curtains, Rachael saw that indeed there was a light above Hailey’s bed. ‘Is everything all right, Hailey?’

‘I asked for some water. I thought you might have forgotten.’

Mustering as much tact as she could, Rachael smiled. ‘I haven’t forgotten, I’m just with someone right now. I’ll get it just as soon as I can.’

‘And you won’t forget?’

How could I? Rachael was tempted to ask, but thought better of it. Her irritation was soon replaced by concern as she heard Sheila starting to retch. Reaching for a kidney dish, Rachael soothed the elderly lady, her concern growing as she felt the clammy skin beneath her touch. Pressing on the call bell three times, she connected the oxygen.

‘Sheila, I’m just going to pop on some nasal prongs to give you some oxygen.’

‘Everything all right?’ Helen’s face peered around the curtain.

‘Chest pain,’ Rachael said fiddling with the flow-meter. ‘Could you page her doctor for me? I’m just going to run off an ECG.’

‘Here …’ Helen handed her a portable phone. ‘We’re high-tech now! You stay with her and page the doctor and I’ll fetch the ECG machine.’

Thankfully the doctor came just as Rachael had finished the heart tracing. Though it showed no acute changes, Sheila’s symptoms, coupled with her cardiac history, meant that she merited a full cardiac work-up and a dose of aspirin in case she was indeed having a heart attack. Through it all she clung to Rachael’s hand as the doctor listened to her chest and took bloods for urgent levels, and by the time Rachael finally surfaced from her patient’s bedside to check on her other patients a good forty-five minutes had passed. It was a rather martyred Hailey that greeted her first.

‘Sorry, Hailey, I’ll get your water now.’

‘No need.’ Rachael wasn’t sure but she thought she detected a slight edge to Hugh’s voice as he placed a water jug on Hailey’s locker. He’d even iced it!

‘I was just about to do that,’ Rachael said quickly. ‘I got caught up with—’

‘It’s no big deal. Hailey wanted some water, I fetched it for her.’ Turning to his patient, he gave Hailey the benefit of a very nice smile. ‘How are you feeling this afternoon?’

‘I’m in a lot of pain actually.’

With a small frown Hugh checked her drug chart. ‘You haven’t had any analgesia for ages. Why on earth didn’t you let the nursing staff know?’

‘Well, they seemed so busy, I didn’t like to make a fuss.’

‘You’re not making a fuss. If you have pain you need to let the staff know. Sister here will get you something for it straight away. Have you been doing your deep-breathing exercises?’

‘It hurts,’ Hailey moaned.

‘But it’s essential. I explained the importance of them before you had your operation. That’s why you’ve got a chest infection now, because you’re not doing your post-op exercises.’ His eyes scanned the chart again. ‘Her IV antibiotics were due at one, they haven’t been signed for.’

‘They haven’t been given yet. I was just—’

‘About to do it’ Hugh finished for her. ‘Well, could you see she gets them immediately, please?’

‘Certainly.’ Which unfortunately was far easier said than done. The new ward design meant that the drug cupboard no longer existed. It had been replaced by a drug room, which you could only enter by swiping your ID badge. The theory was that fewer mistakes were likely to be made with fewer distractions, the only trouble with that theory being that it meant two staff leaving the ward floor at any one time, and at precisely eight minutes past one there wasn’t another free registered nurse available.

Hugh took the news well, at least sort of, even offering to check the drugs with her if it meant his patient didn’t have to wait any longer. But his rather prolonged sigh and obvious irritation made it quite clear he considered Rachael disorganised, and unfairly so, when in truth she was an efficient and meticulous nurse.

As the door closed behind them the distractions of the ward might have disappeared momentarily but the designers had obviously never factored into their calculations the far bigger distraction of a blond giant in a bad mood, whose aftershave was practically asphyxiating her, his unmasked irritation making it hard to concentrate on the endless vials of drugs that greeted her.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not sure of the layout.’

Luckily all the antibiotics were stored alphabetically and for the most part none of the drug names had changed in her absence, but the drumming of his very neat, very well manicured fingers on the bench only exacerbated her nervousness.

She showed him the vial of antibiotic and Hugh checked the name and expiry date with a brief nod. Rachael did the same with the vials of saline. Opening the controlled-drug drawer, she located the drug book before opening the box of pethidine.

‘Seven,’ she stated, showing Hugh the box.

‘Fine. Where do I sign?’

‘You’re supposed to look before you sign,’ Rachael said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re supposed to check that there are actually seven ampoules of pethidine remaining. The law requires it.’

‘I did,’ he said tartly. ‘I’m not some two-year-old who has to use my fingers to count. Now, where do I sign?’

To add insult to injury, when it was Rachael’s turn to add her signature, she realised she had left her pen at Sheila’s bedside and no amount of rummaging through her pocket was going to produce one.

‘Here,’ he said with annoying calmness. ‘You can use mine.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Do you have a problem with cosmetic patients Rachael?’ Hugh’s question wasn’t exactly unexpected, given the chain of events, but it still hurt none the less.

‘No, of course I don’t,’ she answered briskly, filling out the columns in the drug book.

‘Well, you wouldn’t be the first nurse on this ward if you did.’

‘Then it’s good that I don’t.’

‘You can see why I’m asking, can’t you? Hailey had to ask three times for a simple jug of water, her antibiotics are late and she’s also in considerable pain.’

‘My other patient had chest pain. Surely you don’t expect to leave a potentially life-threatening incident to replenish your patient’s water jug? And as for her pain, Hailey never gave me any indication she was in distress—in fact, the only thing on her mind seemed to be the fact that she didn’t have any water.’ She was on a roll now and added her signature with a flurry as she continued. ‘And if you’d give me a moment, I can draw up her antibiotics and they’ll only be …’ glancing at her watch, Rachael met his eyes with a defiant look ‘… fifteen minutes late, hardly a reportable incident by anyone’s standards.’ Despite her fiery response, tears were appallingly close now, and the very last thing Rachael wanted to do was break down—not here, not now and certainly not in front of Hugh.

‘Look …’ His voice was softer now and Rachael stared pointedly at the blur of her signature in the drug book as he spoke. ‘Maybe I came on a bit strong. Of course, a patient with chest pain has to take precedence. I tend to jump in without looking sometimes, particularly in the last few weeks. Suffice it to say there’s been a few teething problems with my patients on the general wards. Some of the nurses have the attitude that cosmetic patients are somehow less deserving of pain control, as if the fact they elected for the procedure should mean they’re prepared to suffer the consequences. I know they can be demanding and difficult, but the simple truth is that most of them have saved hard or have waited a long time for these procedures. It isn’t something they’ve taken lightly and they’re scared of it all going wrong.

‘Hailey doesn’t ask for pain control because she thinks she’ll get out of here more quickly without it. Unfortunately, in this instance it’s worked the other way. She was in too much pain to mobilise and do her deep-breathing exercises and now she’s going to be here for at least a week on IV antibiotics.’

He had a point, Rachael was honest enough to admit that. After all, more than a few eyes had rolled during handover when they’d discussed the cosmetic patients, but his unjust assumption had riled her and she certainly wasn’t going to take the blame because a couple of her colleagues’ haloes might need a polish. ‘Well, that isn’t my attitude,’ Rachael said firmly. ‘I’ve nothing against cosmetic patients and I resent the implication.’ She could feel his eyes on her but still she didn’t look around.

‘In that case, I apologise.’

Rachael would have answered, would have accepted his apology, but the tightness in her throat and the tremor in her bottom lip as she battled not to cry made it safer to ignore him, the silence growing louder as he awaited her response.

‘Fine,’ he snapped eventually, and from the rather curt turn on his heel Rachael’s inadvertent snub hadn’t gone unnoticed. Following him out onto the ward, trying to keep up with his long angry strides, Rachael rued the day she’d decided to come back to nursing. One hour into her shift and already she’d made an enemy.

Well, Hugh Connell could go and jump!

What right did he have to judge her? What right did he have to make such assumptions and then expect her to meekly accept his apology? If his patient’s drugs being ten minutes late was all he had to worry about, then Hugh Connell was a lucky man indeed!

He should try walking a mile in her shoes.

CHAPTER TWO

‘SORRY it took so long, Hailey, it’s just been a bit busy.’ Despite her internal anger, Rachael managed an easy smile and chatted away to her patient. ‘If I could just have your wrist, I can check your ID band.’

Everyone knew the patient was Hailey but policy decreed that two staff members check the ID band against the drug chart. Happy that everything was in order, Rachael expected Hugh to leave them to it, and was somewhat taken back when he hovered.

‘I still have to check her wound,’ he said by way of explanation as Rachael removed the cap on the IV bung.

‘These have to be given over five minutes,’ Rachael said, expecting Hugh, like most doctors, to take the opportunity to make a quick phone call or grab a coffee. But Hugh, Rachael was quickly learning, was absolutely unlike anyone she’d ever come across.

‘I’m happy to wait,’ he said easily. Which was pretty amazing in itself, but when he sat on the bed and started to idly flick through the newspaper and make small talk with Hailey, Rachael thought she had seen everything. Most consultants would have positively baulked at the idea of having to make five minutes of small talk with a patient. Hugh, though, seemed delighted at the opportunity and it was a credit to them both that Hailey couldn’t even have imagined the rather curt exchange that had taken place only moments before.

‘I was telling Rachael earlier that I remember her from the last time I was in here.’

‘Was that when you had your appendix out?’

‘Yep, Rachael here was just about to go off on maternity leave.’

She felt Hugh’s eyes turn to her and she fiddled with the IV bung, trying to ignore the conversation that was unfolding.

‘So what did you call her?’ Hailey asked.

‘That’s the first.’ Rachael didn’t look up as she swapped over syringes. ‘I’m just going to give you your second antibiotic now.’

‘Your daughter,’ Hailey insisted, pursuing the conversation despite Rachael’s obvious reluctance. ‘What did you call her?’

Glancing up briefly, Rachael saw them both look at her expectantly and knew there was no getting out of it. ‘Amy,’ Rachael said simply, turning her attention back to the IV, painfully aware that both Hugh and Hailey were waiting for her to elaborate.

‘What a gorgeous name.’ Hailey rested back on the pillows as the pethidine started to take effect. ‘And I’ll bet she’s beautiful.’

‘Very,’ Rachael said softly.

‘How long have you been back?’

She must have counted every tiny hair on the back of Hailey’s hand but still Rachael’s eyes didn’t move. ‘It’s my first day.’

Hailey let out a small laugh. ‘And here’s us running you ragged. Your mind must be a million miles away, worrying about crèches and babysitters and the like. We’ll have to treat you gently. So how old is Amy now? Must be coming up for a year.’

Slipping the cap back on the IV, Rachael patted her patient’s hand. ‘All finished now. The painkillers should start to kick in soon. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.’

Walking smartly to the treatment room, she tipped the empty ampoules and syringes into the sharps box. The footsteps she heard behind her were heavy and already familiar, and she could feel the animosity from Hugh as he banged about, laying up a dressing trolley.

‘I can do her dressing for you.’

‘It’s fine. I just want to reinforce it.’ He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You should add a postscript to your little platitude about pressing the buzzer, Sister.’

‘Meaning?’ Although Rachael knew where the conversation was leading, she was stalling for time, trying to avoid the inevitable.

‘Meaning you should add ‘‘unless I’m tied up with one of my real patients’’ or ‘‘so long as you don’t want a bit of friendly conversation’’.’

‘I don’t like talking about my personal life.’

‘She was just being nice, for goodness’ sake.’

‘Look, Doctor, you might be happy to sit on the beds and tell the patients what you had for breakfast this morning. I don’t work like that. I prefer to keep a professional distance.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’ He raked a hand through his hair and turned to go, but just as Rachael thought the lecture was over, Hugh had second thoughts.

‘You’re like a breath of fresh air, Rachael, you know that? You’re a real charmer to work with.’

‘I don’t have to wear my heart on my sleeve to be a good nurse.’ Rachael retorted.

‘Maybe not,’ Hugh said crisply, turning on his heel. ‘But observing a few social pleasantries wouldn’t go amiss either.’

As first days back went, it wasn’t a exactly a howling success, but neither was it a total disaster, Rachael reflected as she sat at the nurses’ station towards the end of her shift, writing up her patients’ notes. It actually was good to be back. OK, the United Nations might need to draw up a peace treaty to keep her and Hugh from killing each other, but for the most part, the day had been all right.

Sheila had been reviewed by Cardiology and though her bloods and ECG had been reported unchanged, the event meant her operation had been set back further. Hailey, once the pethidine had kicked in, had slept for most of the afternoon, happily receiving visitors during the evening. And her other two patients had pretty much taken care of themselves, apart from needing some drugs and dressing changes. Everything Rachael had done during her shift had to be diligently recorded and as she sat there, chewing the end of her pen, she realised it was nice to be actually using her brain again, to be dwelling on other people’s problems for once. OK, so there had been a few hiccoughs, but Rachael was determined not to dwell on them.

She had survived her first day back.

‘They’re ready for you.’ Helen gave an encouraging smile as she came out of the office. Stepping in, Rachael felt a million miles away from the nervous wreck that had started the shift only hours earlier.

‘Be gentle with me, guys.’ She smiled before she started her handover. ‘I haven’t done it in ages.’

A few cat-calls showed that one thing that definitely hadn’t changed was the below-the-belt humour of nurses, and with the help of an encouraging wink or two from a couple of old colleagues Rachael handed over her patients to the care of the night staff.

‘They didn’t eat you alive, then?’ Helen asked as Rachael pulled out her hair tie and slipped on her jacket.

‘They were fine. Everyone’s been great.’

‘So we’ll see you back here tomorrow?’

Rachael nodded. ‘Thanks, Helen.’ As she went to go, her colleague called her back.

‘Drop these into the doctors’ office on the way past, would you? Hugh just buzzed for them.’

There was no getting out of it. Rachael hesitated before knocking. Hugh’s blond head was turned from her as he tapped away on the computer. Opening the door, she slipped the papers on the desk. ‘Helen said you needed these.’

Not waiting for an answer, she started to leave.

‘Rachael, about this afternoon …’

‘Let’s not go there, huh?’ She really didn’t want to end the day on a confrontational note. All she wanted to do now was go home, peel off her uniform and slip into a warm bath. Rowing with Hugh again was way down on her list of priorities, but realising, in the name of patient of care, that something needed to be said if they were going to work effectively together, after only the slightest pause Rachael swallowed her pride. ‘I’m sorry for earlier. I think we got off to a bad start. Maybe we can start afresh tomorrow?’

The bitter pill of apologising was made sweeter by his quick response. ‘I’d like that.’ He had swung his chair around to face her now. ‘I’m sorry as well. Some of my comments were uncalled-for. I’m sure I just got it all wrong. Helen’s been singing your praises, and she’s a pretty good judge of character.’

‘I hope so, because she’s been saying the same about you.’

Hugh laughed. ‘So we’re both perfect—is it any wonder we clashed? Anyway, I’ve held you up long enough. No doubt you’re desperate to get back to your baby.’

Turning to go, her hand stayed on the doorhandle. She felt rather than heard him turn back to the computer and though she didn’t want to do it, Rachael also knew that it was time. If they were going to have any chance of working together as a team, then some things were just best out in the open.

‘Hugh …’ The tapping on the keyboard stopped. ‘I’m not saying this to make you feel awkward …’ He swung back to face her, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her face.

‘Whatever’s wrong? I thought we’d decided to start afresh tomorrow, the rows forgotten.’

She nodded, biting hard on her lip, taking a moment to compose herself before she answered as Hugh watched her quizzically. ‘I know that. Look, I didn’t say anything to Hailey because she’s only going to be here for the next couple of days so it didn’t seem fair to upset her, but you and I are going to be working together a lot …’

‘Rachael, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘I know.’ There was an awful silence … Hugh waiting for her explanation, Rachael wondering just how best to give it.

‘I did have a little girl,’ she started. ‘Her name was Amy.’ She watched as his quizzical look vanished, replaced instead by a look of cold shock, horror even, as he registered the past tense in her words. ‘And, as I said to Hailey, she was beautiful.’

‘Was?’ Hugh’s voice was more a croak, and he involuntarily winced as she nodded.

‘She was stillborn.’

Strong hands were around her then, guiding her to a chair, gently pushing her down onto the solid seat behind her.

‘Sorry.’ Rachael spoke softly.

‘Don’t say sorry.’ His voice was slightly breathless as he grappled to respond to her, the wind knocked out of his sails. ‘It should be me saying sorry, Rachael. I had no idea.’

‘Of course you didn’t, no one ever does. You go off on maternity leave and everyone just assumes that you’ve had a wonderfully healthy baby and you’re going to break into a spiel about sleepless nights and nappy rash.’

‘But why didn’t you just say something? I mean, Hailey was banging on about babysitters.’ He winced as he recalled the conversation. ‘It must have been agony for you.’

‘It was.’ Rachael let out a low laugh but they both knew it was void of any humour. ‘Look, Hugh, how are you feeling now?’

‘Me?’ He stared at her, bemused.

‘How do you feel now that I’ve told you?’

‘Awful,’ he admitted. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. ‘And really sad for you.’

‘Imagine how Hailey would feel. Imagine how she’d have felt if I’d turned around and told her the truth. She only meant well, she was just being nice.’

‘But you can’t go around not telling people just so you don’t hurt them,’ Hugh argued. ‘So that you don’t make them feel awful. What about your pain, what about how you feel?’

‘It was a one-off.’ Rachael gave a shrug. His hand was still wrapped around hers and she fixed her eyes on them, not embarrassed at the contact, if anything, slightly comforted. ‘Hopefully the next time a patient recognises me, if ever, I’ll be a bit more …’ she searched for the right word. ‘A bit more … . Oh, I don’t know, not so prone to bursting into hysterical tears perhaps.’

‘Feel free.’ Hugh’s free hand delved into his suit, pulling out a heavy navy silk handkerchief, which he pressed into her hand. She stared at it for a moment or two, and then shook her head.

‘I’ll be all right.’

‘I’m sure you will, but there’s nothing wrong in crying.’

Again she shook her head. ‘Accepting,’ she gave a sniff. ‘That’s the word I meant. Next time I have to tell a patient, I’ll be more accepting of the fact.’ His eyes were on her his hand still holding hers as she prattled on. ‘There are five stages of grief apparently, and acceptance is the final one.’

‘Where are you now?’ His voice was gentle, more an echo of her own thoughts really.

‘Well, I’m past the denial stage, so I guess I’ve moved on to anger,’ Rachael said with a trembling voice. ‘Maybe the textbooks do get it right sometimes, because angry just about sums me up at the moment. I’m angry for me and I’m angry for Amy, for all she’s missed out on and all the pain I’ve been through. It’s nearly been a year now.’ She nibbled at her lower lip and fiddled with the handkerchief in her hand as he still held her. ‘That’s a long time to be angry.’ Brown eyes, devoid of tears yet steeped in pain, finally looked up, and she found herself staring back into his infinitely understanding ones. ‘I think I must be stuck at number two. Maybe I’m a slow learner.’

‘Maybe you’ve got a lot to be angry about?’

A tiny nod was all she could manage, coupled with a loud blow into the handkerchief, the silk cool against her face. It smelt of Hugh, smelt of expensive aftershave and extravagance, and it would have been so easy to bury her face in it, to lay her head on that expensively suited shoulder and give way to the tears that were dangerously close. So very easy, but so very scary. ‘I’d better go.’ Standing, she retrieved her bag from the floor.

‘You’ll be all right—driving home, I mean?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ The brittle smile was back. She held out the handkerchief then, realising she had used it, hastily stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket. ‘I’ll wash and return it.’

Hugh gave a tiny shrug. ‘There’s no need. I’ll survive without it.’

All of a sudden Rachael felt embarrassed, embarrassed and exposed. No doubt Hugh thought she was used to this type of thing, used to baring her soul.

But she wasn’t.

To date this was as close as she’d come. As close as she had been to breaking down and exposing the depths of her grief.

‘I’m so very sorry.’

Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Like I said, you weren’t to know.’

He pulled her back as she went to leave, his hand finding hers again, and it felt so right she let it stay there for a moment as he spoke. ‘I wasn’t talking about this afternoon. I’m sorry for your loss, Rachael, I’m sorry to hear about Amy.’

Making her way down the long polished corridor, she walked faster, rummaging in her bag for her keys, unclipping her name badge—anything other than looking up and catching sight of the signs for the maternity unit.

Funny, hearing Hugh say Amy’s name hadn’t hurt. It had actually helped, helped make her baby more real, meant that she had existed after all.

Meant that there was a reason for the agony in her soul.

CHAPTER THREE

FOR the entire morning Hailey had been the model patient. Not once did her fingers stray to the buzzer and no matter how many times Rachael popped her head in or tried to strike up a conversation she was met with a polite smile and an assurance that everything was fine. Rachael had been allocated Purple Bay for the last couple of days but was now back in the orange bay. As she gently cleaned the fine wound around Hailey’s breasts, the fact that her patient wouldn’t meet her eyes had to be addressed.

‘Hugh told you, didn’t he?’

‘Told me what?’

‘Hailey?’ Rachael’s voice was soft but firm. ‘I’ve had enough people unable to meet my eyes to last a lifetime. Dr Connell shouldn’t have said anything.’ There was an edge to Rachael’s voice, which she fought quickly to control. Poor Hailey was already feeling bad enough without thinking she had caused unrest amongst the staff.

‘I’m sure he didn’t intend to, I just mentioned how nice it was to have the same nurse looking after me again, how hard it must be coming back to work and leaving your …’ Her voice stilled for a moment. ‘I guess Dr Connell knows me well enough to realise that I can’t go five minutes without delving into someone’s life.’

‘You like a gossip, then?’ They were chatting more easily now as Rachael concentrated on doing the dressing.

‘Don’t we all? Anyway, when I spoke about you the next morning when Dr Connell did his ward round, he just said that I should go easy on you, that’s all. He didn’t break any confidences. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and now I feel just awful.’

‘Well, there’s no need,’ Rachael said firmly, carefully strapping the dressing back in place. ‘And you weren’t being nosy or prying. It was a perfectly normal question to ask—in fact, it was nice that you remembered me. I’m just sorry you’ve been made to feel awkward when you were only trying to be friendly.’

‘You should have just said, Rachael. You can’t worry about upsetting other people all the time—you’re the one who’s living with it. It does get easier, you know.’ Hailey’s tone changed subtly, the slightly dizzy voice softened with a wistful note, and for the first time that morning the two women’s eyes met, no longer a nurse and patient but two women who’d shared the same pain, the only difference being that one was further down the long lonely path. ‘You do what it takes to get you through.’ Looking down at the dressing that Rachael had just finished, a smile crept over Hailey face as she admired her new breasts. ‘Maybe not quite as extreme as this but, hey, what the hell. They’re just fabulous, aren’t they? I can’t wait to get them home!’

They were laughing so hard it took a moment to register that Hugh had joined them behind the curtains.

‘Sorry to break up the party, ladies. I just wanted to check everything was all right for your discharge home, Hailey, before I head off to Theatre.’ Whipping out his stethoscope, he gave them both a curious smile. ‘What’s the joke? I could use a laugh this morning.’

Thankfully it was Hailey who answered. ‘We were just admiring your handiwork, Dr Connell.’

Surprisingly, he blushed. Very surprisingly, Rachael found herself musing as she took a well-earned break halfway through the morning. After all, he must see more women’s breasts than any man could wish for, yet a touch of female humour had made Hugh blush like a teenager. Still, that rather endearing trait in his character didn’t go anywhere close to making up for the fact that she was angry with him.

Furious, in fact—for putting Hailey in such an awkward position and for assuming that he had the right to share what Rachael had told him—and when Hugh came to the ward next time she was going to tell him as much.

‘Don’t get up,’ Helen said as she came into the staff room waving an admission slip. ‘We’ve got a new patient coming in. I’m going to put him in the side ward of Orange Bay. You mightn’t even get him on your shift, he’s a direct transfer from Warragul so it all depends on the ambulances when he arrives.’

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Taking the admission slip, Rachael ran her eyes down the scribbled note, her face screwing up as she read the rather graphic details. ‘How can you amputate a bottom lip?’

‘It’s an industrial accident. It sounds awful, doesn’t it? Apparently the mid-third of his lower lip is completely gone.’

‘Have they got the missing part?’ Rachael asked. ‘Will they be attempting to reattach it?’

Helen shook her head. ‘It was irretrievable apparently. According to the doctors at Warragul it’s a very neat injury though, and Hugh seems to think there’ll be no problem repairing it. He’s even talking about doing it under local anaesthetic.’

‘Well, I hope he’s as good as everyone keeps saying. This poor guy’s only nineteen.’

‘Oh, Hugh’s good,’ Helen said assuredly. ‘I’ve only been working with him for a month or so, but some of the things I’ve seen can only be described as miraculous.’ Lowering her rather ample bottom into the seat next to Rachael, Helen let out a rather too casual sigh. ‘What were the fireworks about the other day?’ When Rachael didn’t immediately answer Helen carried on tentatively, ‘I saw you both coming out of the drug room looking thunderous, and the atmosphere was hardly friendly for the rest of the shift. I put you in Purple Bay to give you both a chance to cool down, but this morning it wasn’t possible.’

‘You don’t need to keep us apart,’ Rachael said testily. ‘We had a difference of opinion, that’s all.’

‘About what?’

‘He thought I was incompetent. I begged to differ,’ Rachael said airily. But realising Helen wasn’t going to let things go that easily, she gave a small shrug. ‘Everything I did on my first day back just made me look awful—the little crack about my divorce, being ten minutes late with my drugs …’

‘That was my fault. I kept you talking after handover.’

‘Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but Mrs Cosgrove had chest pain so I got held up. Anyway, they were only ten minutes late. Had it been any other doctor, they wouldn’t have even noticed.’

‘Hugh’s a perfectionist,’ Helen said knowingly.

‘And as you and I both know, I don’t seem to do very well with perfectionists.’

‘Oh, come on, Rachael, you can hardly compare Hugh to Richard,’ Helen argued. ‘They’re nothing alike. Richard was obsessed with your appearance, with furthering his career. All Hugh’s interested in is the welfare of his patients.’

‘You reckon?’ Draining her cup, Rachael stood up. ‘Hugh furthers his own career because of people like Richard, and if I’d listened to my ex-husband, no doubt I’d have paid a fairly significant portion off Hugh’s sports car in medical fees. I’d say they were very much alike.’

Helen laughed at her cynicism. ‘How do you even know Hugh’s got a sports car?’

‘Call it an educated guess. And, no doubt, in the passenger seat is a skinny blonde girlfriend with a cleavage to die for. He’s exactly like Richard.’

‘I think you’re being a bit harsh.’ Helen gave a cheeky grin. ‘Hugh’s much better-looking.’

‘All the more reason to stay clear if you ask me. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about keeping us apart any more. We both apologised and everything’s fine.’

Until the next time I see him, Rachael thought wryly as she headed out to the ward, just in time to say goodbye to a rather gorgeous-looking Hailey, a new woman indeed now she wasn’t in her nightdress.

‘Look at you!’ Rachael exclaimed with a smile.

‘I feel as if I’m about to topple over.’ Hailey giggled. ‘They feel huge.’ In truth they weren’t huge. Rachael had looked at her patient’s notes and had seen the ‘before’ pictures and despite her own reservations about cosmetic surgery, she could see why Hailey had opted for the enlargement. Hailey’s before shots made Rachael look positively buxom for the first time in her life! Hugh’s surgery certainly hadn’t been drastic or over the top, anything but. Hailey was leaving the ward with a nice, feminine shape and a smile that would light up the whole of Melbourne. ‘I bought these for the staff.’ Hailey handed a large tin of chocolate to Rachael. ‘To say thanks.’

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ Rachael scolded as she took the tin and opened the small card attached. ‘Thanks ever so much, Hailey, they won’t last five minutes in this place. Now, have you got all your discharge medications and your outpatient’s appointment?’

Hailey nodded. ‘In my suitcase. Gary’s just taking it down to the car.’

‘Remember to do your deep-breathing exercises and to finish all your antibiotics.’

‘As if I could forget. Dr Connell made his instructions very clear. I daren’t get another chest infection, I don’t think he’d forgive me.’ She held up her hand and ticked off on her fingers. ‘I’ve got to take all my meds, wear a support bra and avoid heavy lifting and vacuuming for the next month.’

‘Maybe I should book in for one after all,’ Rachael joked. ‘I could use a month off housework.’

‘You’re fine as you are.’ Hailey paused uncomfortably for a moment. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you—before, I mean.’

‘You didn’t, Hailey,’ Rachael said gently. ‘In fact, you probably did me a favour. It’s better if people know, I can see that now.’

‘It does get easier.’

Rachael took a deep breath. ‘Promise?’

‘I promise. Are you in a support group?’

‘Hey, who’s the nurse here? That’s the sort of question I’m supposed to be asking you.’

But Hailey refused to be fobbed off and, fishing in her purse, she handed Rachael a card. ‘Take all the help you can, Rachael. Who knows? I might see you at a coffee morning.’

Glancing down, Rachael looked at the card Hailey had given her. The name of the voluntary support group that had visited her in the hospital was familiar.

Painfully so.

For a moment Rachael was assailed with a host of images, so clear, so agonising that for a second the months rolled away, the year disappeared and she was back where it all had started.

Or, more pointedly, back where it all had ended. Lying in her hospital bed, her hands over her ears, trying to block out the lusty cries of the newborns in the nursery, her swollen breasts aching, engorged, a physical reminder of her desire to feed, to hold, to love.

Sue had been her name.

Sue, the woman who had sat on her bed, the woman who had gently held her hand as she’d stared dry-eyed at the bland curtains. Sue, who had spoken eloquently, her quietly imparted words making some sense in the swirling fog of despair. Sue had given her a card then, the same card Hailey was handing her now, coupled with the same offer to keep in touch, the same gentle invitation to come along whenever she was ready …

‘We’ll see,’ Rachael said as evenly as she could manage, and made a mental note to bin the card the second Hailey had gone, wishing this uncomfortable exchange was over. Hailey would have said more, Rachael was sure of it, but thankfully Hugh appeared to check on one of his patients and Hailey couldn’t resist the chance to say goodbye to him just one more time. Unwrapping a chocolate, Rachael pulled out her file to sign off the discharge. She filled in her file, the page opening on Hailey’s past history. ‘Gravid 3, Para 2’, which loosely translated to pregnancies three, live births two, the words written neatly, no indicator of the silent agony that so many, too many women endured.

With a sigh Rachael stood up, desperate for a moment’s privacy, and headed for the IV cupboard, the one place on the ward that offered it. Hardly a cupboard, it was, in fact, a large room with rows of metal trolleys containing various flasks, the walls lined with IV poles and pumps, the perfect place to take five, to bite back the tears that seemed to be threatening more and more these days.

Damn Hugh Connell, she inwardly cursed as she blinked rapidly. Damn him for interfering. If he hadn’t said anything she wouldn’t be here now, hiding in an IV cupboard, struggling to keep it all together. Seeing him breeze past on his way back to Theatre, his wide shoulders obviously not carrying a care in the world, Rachael felt her threatening tears turn instead to anger. Stepping out into the carpeted corridor, her rubber soles didn’t make a sound, but though she didn’t raise her voice even a fraction, the sharpness of her words were enough to stop Hugh as he approached the lift.

‘Dr Connell.’

‘Rachael.’ He smiled as she walked towards him, then turned his attention back to the lift, watching the numbers light up as it worked its way towards them. It was only then that Rachael realised he thought she was just saying hello, that Hugh thought she was waiting to catch the lift with him, and with a bit of a jolt she also realised that her unfriendly tone hadn’t surprised him in the least.

‘I was hoping to have a word.’

‘What have I done now?’ He gave a slight grimace. ‘Or, rather, what haven’t I done? I don’t know where I’m at this morning. Helen just wiped the floor with me for not signing off on one of my drug orders.’

‘Actually, it’s not about a patient.’ Rachael swallowed, her cheeks burning as he turned and looked at her more closely. ‘Well, not directly anyway.’

‘Oh.’ She could hear the surprise in his voice but he held her stare. ‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I’d rather not go into it here.’ She watched a frown mar his perfect features but as the lift pinged and the doors slid open, all of a sudden the wave of courage, the explosive anger that had assailed her just moments before seemed to be vanishing at a rate of knots. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sure it will keep. You’d better get back to Theatre. I’ll catch you later.’ Turning, Rachael walked off, furious with herself for not following through with her intentions, yet relieved all the same. She would tell him exactly what she thought, but later, when she had calmed down.

‘You’ve got me intrigued now!’ Rachael nearly jumped out of her skin as she realised he had followed her into the IV cupboard.

‘I thought you were in a rush.’

‘They can wait,’ he said haughtily, but it was softened with a smile. ‘They’re hardly going to start the operation without me. So come on, Rachael, what’s the problem?’

‘You are actually.’ And though she wasn’t looking at him, though Rachael was concentrating on restacking an already neat row of IV flasks, she just knew the easy smile had vanished from his face. ‘What on earth made you think you had the right to give a patient such personal information about me? Not only have you made things very awkward for me, you’ve made Hailey feel uncomfortable. She’s spent the last three days avoiding me.’

‘As opposed to you avoiding her,’ Hugh said without a trace of contrition.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’re a great nurse, Rachael. You’re professional, knowledgeable and you’re also very friendly and personable—at least with patients,’ Hugh added. ‘And someone sitting in bed, recovering from an operation, hasn’t much else to do but watch the staff. How do you think Hailey would have felt if she’d seen you being nice to all her fellow patients and then running a mile every time she tried to strike up a conversation with you?’

‘I’d have handled it,’ Rachael said through gritted teeth.

‘By avoiding her,’ Hugh said, unmoved by her obvious fury. ‘The same way you handle your colleagues—running a mile every time someone tries to talk to you about anything that isn’t a patient or a drug.’

‘How dare you make such an assumption? You hardly even know me—’

But Hugh cut her off in mid-sentence. ‘I dare to, because it is just that—an assumption. That’s how we form our opinions of people. I’ve seen you sitting on your own in the canteen at lunchtime, I’ve noticed how you’d rather scald your tongue drinking boiling coffee in the staffroom than, heaven forbid, actually relax on your coffee-break and talk to your colleagues. From that, therefore, I assume you’d rather not get too close to your co-workers.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Rachael flared, her mind racing for a crushing answer. But none was forthcoming and she had to settle for a second, but less emphatic, ‘You’re wrong.’

‘Then have lunch with me.’ He gave a small triumphant smile as Rachael practically jumped out of her skin. ‘I’ve only two quick patients left on my theatre list, so I should be finished by midday. I can page you when I’m done and we can share a very questionable version of hotpot together in the canteen.’

‘I hate hotpot.’ It was a stupid response, pathetic actually, but it was the best Rachael could come up with at such short notice.

No notice at all, in fact. Hugh’s invitation had caught her completely unawares. The hospital canteen mightn’t be the most exotic of locations but, given her fragile state, he might just as well have been asking her to fly off to Fiji.

‘Fine, then we’ll throw caution to the winds and try the ham salad.’

‘I can’t. I’ve got things to do on my lunch-break. I have,’ she insisted as he raised an eyebrow. ‘My car’s being repaired, I need to phone the garage and—’

‘It’s OK, I get the message, Rachael.’ His pager was bleeping, Theatre was waiting—everyone wanted a piece of him, but still he stayed.

‘I hope you do. I hope this will be first and last time you try to look out for me. I don’t need your help, Hugh. I don’t need anyone’s help and I certainly don’t need the patients knowing my business. It’s hard enough as it is, without telling all. If that’s going to be the case, I might just as well walk around with a ‘‘fragile, handle with care’’ label around my neck.’

‘What would be so wrong with that?’ Hugh asked. ‘Why shouldn’t you be treated a bit more gently, given all that you’ve been through?’

‘I’d far rather be treated normally,’ Rachael retorted, not quite with a snarl but with a definite curl at the edge of her top lip. ‘For your information, I actually prefer it when people don’t know what’s happened. It’s strangely refreshing to get through an entire conversation without people lowering their voices.’ Clearing her throat, Rachael adopted a rather po face as Hugh stood there patiently digesting her outburst, listening as she lowered her tone and adopted the voice of a social worker. ‘‘How are you, Rachael?’’ No, that’s not quite right,’ she corrected herself. ‘It’s more like, ‘‘How are you, Rachael’’ or, and this one’s my favourite, ‘‘How are you coping, Rachael?’’

‘People are allowed to ask Rachael. They’re just being nice, for heaven’s sake.’

‘Maybe.’ Rachael shrugged. ‘But I’ll tell you this much, Hugh. Right now I’d settle for being treated like a normal human being.’

‘Normal human beings eat,’ Hugh ventured, his smiling demeanour such a contrast to Rachael’s surly expression.

‘You don’t give up, do you?’ A very reluctant smile was starting to soften her frown.

‘Only when it’s a lost cause.’ His pager was bleeping incessantly now and Hugh turned it off impatiently and read the words on the small screen with a frown. ‘I was wrong. It looks like they are prepared to start the operation without me.’

‘Then you’d better go.’ Green eyes were looking at her, dark green eyes that weren’t judging or patronising, the kind of eyes that might even make the canteen’s hotpot palatable, the kind of eyes it would be so easy to open up to.

It was the longest few seconds of her life.

‘Go,’ Rachael said again, jerking her face away, terrified he might somehow sense the sudden shift in tempo, hear the contradiction of her spoken word, because surely her eyes must be saying otherwise?

Going was the last thing she wanted him to do.

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