Men In Uniform: Mad About The Doctor: Her Little Secret / First Time Lucky? / How To Mend A Broken Heart. Carol Marinelli

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      But then she’d have to come back.

      ‘It’s not that easy.’

      ‘None of this is easy,’ Nick said. ‘Alison, surely you can have a holiday, a few weeks of fun.’ And that word jolted, because that was what this was to him, she reminded herself, fun and a holiday that he wanted to extend—take the good sex with him, and slowly dis-mantle her heart. She wanted to nod, to say yes, to carry on the crazy ride, but she was scared to.

      ‘I can’t.’ She shook her head in fury. ‘I can’t just up and leave.’

      ‘Won’t,’ Nick said, and the pounding pulse in her head stopped for a second and he said it again. ‘You won’t come.’

      ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ How dared he? Except Nick did.

      ‘You didn’t even consider it before you said no.’

      ‘You don’t know how hard things are for me. I had a massive row with my mother last night…’ Stunned, she watched as he pulled out an imaginary violin. ‘You bastard.’

      ‘You’ve had me pegged as one from the start.’ Yes, he was being mean, but finally he was angry. ‘I’m asking you to come with me, or at least to just think about coming with me.’

      ‘And I’m telling you I can’t.’

      ‘You can’t, can you?’ Finally he got it. ‘It’s not your mum holding you back, Alison.’

      ‘Just leave it.’

      ‘No.’ He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. ‘It’s not just your mum.’

      ‘Let’s just finish it.’ If she was being unreasonable, well, she felt unreasonable. ‘Let’s just finish it here.’

      And she did.

      When the police arrived and summoned a tow truck, and a couple pulled over in their car and asked if there was anything they could do—actually, there was something.

      ‘Could you give me a lift, please?’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      IT HAD to be better this way, Alison told herself as she ignored Nick’s texts over the next few days and tried to get used to lugging around a broken heart.

      The dazzling blond doctor was a just a little less so over the coming week.

      Tired, a bit distracted and to the rest of the team just a little less fun, but he was thorough and kind to the patients and sometimes, quite a lot actually, she felt his eyes follow hers, and sometimes they frowned just a touch when their eyes met, because the Alison he had known simply wasn’t there any more.

      He was kicking himself, angry with himself about how he had handled it. But he was angry with her too—at how readily she could let them go, at how she just retreated back into her quiet, serious shell. Though she was polite and smiled and spoke when she had to, the Alison he knew was in there seemed to have gone.

      ‘I’m getting nowhere.’ Amy was unusually tense as she handed over her night to Nick. ‘This poor man came in at three—he’s an oncology patient with a brain tumour, but he’s got acute abdomen. He had a scan last week in Outpatients that was apparently all clear, the surgeons don’t want him to have anything till they’ve seen him, but they’re doing an aneurism repair we had in—’

      ‘So he’s had nothing for pain?’ Nick checked sharply.

      ‘Five of morphine,’ Amy said. ‘I couldn’t ask him to wait any longer, but it hasn’t touched sides, and the second-on surgeons are in Theatre as well.’ It was a regular scenario—the surgeons couldn’t asses an acute abdomen if the patient was pain free, but the surgeons were stuck in Theatre. ‘I can’t get his notes, he was seen in Outpatients last week…’

      Amy really was frazzled—and from the nursing handover it made sense. It had been an extremely busy night, but nothing usually fazed Amy. Still, Alison remembered she had swapped her nights with Nick for a family thing a few weeks ago and guessed that maybe it had something to do with things.

      ‘If they’re in Theatre it’s not going to be this team that takes him.’ Nick was completely reasonable. He looked up at the medical roster. ‘I’ll ring Howard’s team—he’s on take today and I’ll get one of them to come down before they start rounds. I’ll go and have a quick look at him now.

      ‘Alison,’ he added, because she was cleaning up the night staff’s chaos, because she was the only one around, because he had to, ‘can you come with me?’

      ‘His daughter, Vivienne, is getting upset,’ Amy added.

      ‘I’ll sort it,’ Nick replied. ‘Go home,’ he ordered.

      ‘Thanks,’ Amy said. ‘What will we do without you?’

      Nick could have sworn he felt the roll of Alison’s eyes, but chose to ignore it, heading for the cubicle instead. ‘Hi, I’m Nick. I’m an emergency registrar…’

      ‘So was the other one!’ A woman, presumably Vivienne, snapped. ‘Where are the surgeons?’

      ‘I’m going to speak with today’s team,’ Nick said, ‘but first I need to take a quick look for myself at your father.’

      Jim was frail, thin and clearly in pain, and Nick didn’t prod and poke him unnecessarily, but he agreed with Amy’s finding that the problem was acute—because even if Jim’s condition was terminal, an operation might be needed to relieve his pain.

      ‘I need those old notes,’ Nick said once they were outside the cubicle.

      ‘The day receptionist is here,’ Alison said, ‘and Outpatients will be opening. I’ll ask her to track them down.’

      ‘Thanks.’ He hesitated. ‘Alison?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘I’m fine,’ Alison said.

      ‘Can we talk?’

      ‘About work?’ she checked, and when he pushed his tongue into his cheek, she shrugged. ‘Then sorry, no,’ Alison said, and headed for Reception.

      ‘How’s the flat?’ Another line she was getting used to. Libby, the receptionist, asked the question as Alison popped in to check on the location of Jim’s notes.

      ‘Shabbier than I remember it,’ Alison admitted. ‘I’m painting before I move in and I don’t remember a pea-green carpet when I bought it, but it must have been there.’

      ‘Are you replacing it?’ They stood making idle chitchat as Libby tapped away on the computer and did her best to locate the notes Nick wanted.

      ‘I was going to learn to live with it,’ Alison said, ‘but the more I paint, the greener it gets.’

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