Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart. Carol Marinelli

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      Till Hugh decided they might need a little helping hand.

CHAPTER TWO

      ‘ARE YOU COMING to Emily’s leaving do on Friday?’ Louise asked Hugh, and Emily rather hoped the answer would be no—a meal at Imelda’s and a few drinks afterwards would probably be a bit tame for Hugh.

      ‘Can we do the swab count before I start to close?’ Hugh said, instead of answering.

      Nothing distracted him, Emily noted.

      It was the mark of a brilliant surgeon.

      Hugh chatted and joked but when it mattered he concentrated totally. As boring as the swab count and equipment check might be, it was necessary to ensure that nothing was left inside the patient before the surgeon closed, and Hugh took it seriously.

      The counts all tallied.

      ‘It isn’t Emily’s leaving do,’ Hugh said, as he started to close the incision. ‘She’s only going to be working in A and E for three months but, yes, I’ll be there. Actually, Alex and his wife are coming too, if they can get a babysitter.’

      ‘It’s just a few drinks …’ Emily frowned because why the hell was Alex coming, let alone his wife? ‘As you said, it’s not even a leaving do.’

      Except, unbeknown to anyone but Emily, it very possibly was her leaving do.

      Emily hadn’t yet handed in her notice but next Wednesday she was going to Cornwall for a week and had decided if, after a break, she still felt the same way about working in A and E, then that was what she would do.

      ‘You’re going to be missed,’ Hugh said. Emily saw his lovely green eyes over the mask and, yes, he was speaking the truth both personally and professionally. Emily was efficient, incredibly efficient, some might say pedantic and others set in her ways, but Theatre worked well with pedantic nurses. ‘Mondays won’t be the same.’

      ‘Actually, they shall, for a little while at least,’ Emily said. ‘I’m back working here on Monday as an extra shift—they haven’t found my replacement yet. The nurse who was coming here from A and E resigned.’

      ‘When do you go on holiday?’ Louise asked.

      ‘Next Wednesday,’ Emily answered. ‘A whole week of doing nothing but walking and reading. I can’t wait.’

      ‘There’s some nice weather predicted …’ Louise smiled.

      ‘Which means it will rain!’ Hugh’s comment was dry.

      ‘I don’t care,’ Emily said. ‘I just want to read and walk on the beach and relax.’

      ‘Well, you’ll need it before you go to A and E,’ Louise said.

      ‘How are we doing, Rory?’ Hugh glanced over at the anaesthetist as a couple of alarms started to sound.

      ‘All good. How much longer?’

      ‘Done,’ Hugh said.

      Yes, it was a very small world in Theatre. Emily headed to the large staffroom. She was the first there but everyone would soon come in. Rarely did anyone go to the canteen—it was too much trouble to change shoes and things. She turned and gave a brief smile as Hugh came in and she got out her lunch from the fridge but, as they sat down, instead of their usual catch-up Hugh got paged to go up to a ward.

      ‘Damn,’ Hugh said. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

      ‘I’m sure it will keep.’

      Hugh thought for a moment as he answered his page. Emily was right, it would keep and what he had to ask her would probably go better with wine!

      ‘Can I borrow you for ten minutes on Friday night?’

      ‘Borrow me?’

      ‘Well, I know you’ll be busy but there’s something that I want to ask you away from everyone else.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Not here.’

      ‘Have you got another rash?’ Emily smirked.

      ‘Ha-ha.’

      They both smiled as they remembered the day when Hugh, for once, had struggled to focus. Emily had been scrub nurse and had frowned as a usually together Hugh had breathed loudly beside her, sweat beading on his forehead as he kept moving from one foot to the other. The second the operation had been over he had fled and, walking past the male changing rooms on the way to the staffroom, Emily had seen his frantic face peer out.

      ‘Emily …’ he’d hissed. ‘I need some antihistamine.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Now. IM …’

      ‘An injection?’

      Hugh let the towel slip a fraction and Emily’s eyes widened at the sight of the angry red welts and urticarial rash spreading down his buttocks.

      ‘Believe me, Emily, that’s not the worst of it …’

      ‘I don’t want to see the rest.’

      Oh, my!

      Emily had returned with the injection and some hydrocortisone cream for Hugh to put on himself and had happily stabbed him.

      ‘Maybe it was the shaving cream …’

      She didn’t want to know that he’d shaved, or that she, whoever she was this week, had shaved him. Emily was tired of the glimpses into his love life.

      ‘Have you changed your washing powder?’ Emily asked instead.

      ‘No.’ Hugh shook his head and thought for a moment. ‘Though I did buy the liquid one.’

      As it turned out, he had bought the triple-strength liquid one!

      Happily, his reaction had calmed and the theatre list had gone ahead, Emily trying and failing not to dwell on the fact that he was naked and bald beneath his scrubs.

      ‘What will I do without you?’ Hugh asked, still smiling as he recalled that day.

      ‘Inject your own antihistamine!’

      ‘That was a long time ago, Emily.’

      Yet she remembered it like it was yesterday.

      The hurt, the jealousy, the itch of her own that she simply refused to scratch.

      ‘If I don’t catch up with you properly,’ Hugh said, ‘then I’ll see you Friday.’

      ‘Okay.’

      Friday СКАЧАТЬ