Ultimate Heroes Collection

by Various Authors

  ‘Only because you both hate Barry.’ And they resented their mother even more than he did. ‘Look, I promised Dad I’d take care of her. I don’t break my promises.’

  ‘That’s true. But you expect other people to be the same as you. And you always get disappointed.’ The sparkle in Seb’s eyes dimmed for a moment. ‘Ah, live in the real world, Charlie. Find yourself a good woman who understands the score. No commitments.’

  ‘You’re the expert in that department,’ Charlie said wryly. ‘Let’s just agree to differ, shall we?’

  ‘As long as you watch your back. This woman of yours—who has a name, I take it?’ When Charlie didn’t answer, Seb continued, ‘Whoever she is, my guess is she’s a gold-digger. And I’m a better judge of character than you are.’

  ‘You’re just a cynic.’

  ‘I’m a realist,’ Seb said softly. ‘Which is why I don’t get hurt.’

  Charlie had no answer to that. He’d already been hurt in the worst possible way by Julia. Although he was absolutely sure that Sophie wasn’t another Julia.

  ‘Seriously—women apart—are you happy at the Hampstead General?’

  Charlie was relieved at the change of subject. ‘I think so. I like the team, and there’s good communication between the departments.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I’ll have a battle on my hands with the budget.’

  ‘Which you’ll win,’ Seb said confidently. ‘You’ve had enough practice.’

  With the estate. ‘Yeah.’

  Seb lifted his glass. ‘Well, here’s to my brother. Director of Surgery.’ He grinned. ‘Which means I have to get promoted in one year, eleven months and three weeks to keep on your tail.’

  ‘Seb, you’re such a wheeler-dealer, I’m surprised you haven’t got the job already,’ Charlie said.

  Seb winked. ‘I’m working on it. Mind you, I reckon Vic might beat us both. Our sister, the brain surgeon. Who works even more hours than you do.’ He sighed. ‘That’s why I date so much, you know. To keep our joint average up. You two are such slackers.’

  Charlie laughed. ‘Yeah, right. But keep your nose out of my love life, Seb. I’m fine as I am.’

  ‘OK. You’ve got a reprieve. Until next week,’ Seb said. ‘And then I’m setting Vic on you.’

  Charlie topped up their glasses. ‘Vic will side with me because I’m her favourite.’

  ‘You wish,’ Seb said, laughing. ‘Hey, better cut yourself some of that Stilton before I scoff the lot …’

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  ‘Why is it, every time I see you, you have your nose in a journal?’ Abby asked.

  Sophie looked up and smiled at the younger doctor. ‘Just keeping up to date.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  Sophie frowned. ‘Sure. Why?’

  ‘Just … you’ve been a bit quiet lately, and you’ve bowed out of every social event, which isn’t like you. You’re normally right in the thick of it—in fact, you normally organise things. But you didn’t go to see that new romantic comedy with us last night, you made some excuse not to go on the team curry night—and you didn’t turn up to Charlie’s drinks.’

  Sophie waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m fine, Abby. Don’t worry about me. How’s it going with you know who?’

  Abby folded her arms. ‘Stop trying to change the subject. What’s up, Soph?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Nothing she wanted to discuss, anyway.

  Abby’s eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not the unthinkable, is it? You’re not secretly in love with someone?’

  Sophie’s smile was genuine this time. ‘You sound just like my mum. No. I’m not in love.’ Though there was someone she couldn’t quite get out of her head. A pair of very, very blue eyes. A mouth that positively begged for a kiss. And he was the most unsuitable man she could have picked. They had nothing in common, she despised everything he stood for, and.

  There was the rub. Despite everything, she was attracted to Charlie. Extremely attracted to him. And because she’d tried to deny it to herself, she’d been unfair to him. She’d rebuffed every overture of friendship he’d made.

  Abby looked worried. ‘You don’t have a thing about Guy, do you?’

  ‘Guy?’ Abby thought she was in love with Guy? Sophie blinked hard. ‘Where did that come from? I like him, a lot—but that’s as far as it goes. Considering I’ve been trying to fix you up with him …’ She spread her hands. ‘What on earth makes you think I’ve got the hots for Guy?’

  ‘It’s just he hasn’t really noticed me. And with you being a bit—well, not yourself—I wondered.’

  ‘No. Definitely not Guy,’ Sophie reassured her with a grin.

  ‘Who, then?’

  She’d rather eat worms than admit that to anyone. Sophie sighed. ‘Abby, the only thing I’m interested in is my career. End of story.’ She smiled to soften the harshness of her words. ‘So how’s your day been?’

  ‘Brilliant. Charlie let me observe him in Theatre this morning—and he let me do some suturing again. He showed me how to do a couple of different knots, too. He’s such a nice bloke.’

  Yeah. And Sophie had been seriously unfair to him. She’d judged him by the standard of the people she’d known as a student. Just because he was upper class. Worse, he’d even told her that he had to work twice as hard as anyone else if he wanted people to take him seriously.

  The next time she saw him she’d make amends, she promised herself.

  And then her bleep went. She glanced at the display on her pager. Paeds. Emergency appendicectomy.

  ‘Anyone needs me, I’m in Theatre Four,’ she told Abby. ‘Would you be an angel and stick it on the board for me?’ The noticeboard in the department told everyone where the surgeons were.

  ‘Will do.’

  Sophie made her way to Theatre, scrubbed swiftly and was briefed on the case. Over two thirds of children admitted to hospital with suspected appendicitis turned out to have a completely different condition. If the patient didn’t have the classic signs of acute appendicitis, they were kept in for observation until the symptoms settled or the diagnosis became clear. It was more difficult to diagnose abdominal tenderness in children, and most of the tests were unreliable—although asking the child to stand and hop on their right leg was one of the better ones. If they could do it, it was unlikely that they had any peritoneal tenderness.

  ‘The house officer thought it was a urinary tract infection,’ Angus McFadden, the paediatrician, told her in Theatre as he did the handover.

  ‘Could’ve been. Or pancreatitis. Or something rarer—Meckel’s diverticulum, which you can only distinguish from appendicitis by a laparotomy,’ Sophie pointed out. ‘We all had to learn, once.’

  ‘Yes.’ McFadden’s eyes hardened slightly when he clearly realised that Sophie wasn’t going to join him in moaning about how useless junior doctors were nowadays.

  ‘Is your house officer here? It might be useful experience to see the appendicectomy,’ Sophie suggested.

  McFadden looked daggers at her; she smiled back at him. ‘I don’t mind an audience.’

  As she’d hoped, he was concerned enough about appearances to ring down to Paediatrics and order his house officer up.

  ‘Sophie Harrison, general surgeon,’ she introduced herself when the house officer walked in, looking nervous.

  ‘Aidan Merrick,’ he said.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Aidan. I could have done this by laparotomy, but I think there’s a risk of the appendix bursting, so I’m doing an open operation. I’ve done a Lanz incision —that’s the low skin crease incision—because it gives a better cosmetic result than the higher one centred on McBurney’s point. I’ve opened the layers of the abdominal wall along their fibres—and I’ve just lifted the peritoneum. There was some watery fluid and pus there, so I’ve sent a sample off for culture. I’m just feeling for the appendix here—it’s definitely inflamed, because it’s sticking, so I’m going to dissect it out rather than just push it out with my finger.’ She talked Aidan through the rest of the oper
ation, explaining what she was doing and why, and showing Aidan how the area around the appendix was thick and friable. She ligated the blood supply, crushed the appendix base and tied absorbable sutures before removing it, then guided a sump-sucker into the pelvis with her finger to suck out the remaining pus and fluid. Finally, she swabbed the area with gauze to remove any remaining pus and minimise the risk of the little girl developing a pelvic infection or abscess.

  ‘I’m using absorbable sutures for the deeper layers, but I’m leaving the skin open because there was infection,’ she explained.

  When they’d finished, Aidan made a point of staying behind in the scrubs room. ‘I just wanted to say thanks—for not biting my head off, and for giving me the chance to see the op.’

  ‘Pleasure. And I don’t bite people’s heads off unless they make the same mistake twice, or try to cover it up,’ Sophie said. ‘We’ve all been house officers.’

  ‘Not if you talk to McF—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘I didn’t hear you say anything.’ Sophie smiled at him. ‘If it helps, I remember my first year as a qualified doctor. I spent most of the time being terrified I’d do something wrong, or tired because I’d been on call for so many hours. And sometimes your superiors forget what it was like to be a junior doctor. Hang on in there.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘Um, I wondered if you’d like to go for a drink or something? If you’re not busy, that is.’

  Uh-oh. Was that the beginnings of hero-worship she could see in his eyes? Not good. And she didn’t need romantic entanglements to complicate her life. Better make him understand her actions hadn’t been motivated by personal feelings but by a principle. ‘It’s very sweet of you to ask,’ Sophie said gently, ‘but there’s no need. I would’ve stood up for anyone in your position.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looked embarrassed.

  She smiled at him again. ‘See you around.’

  ‘Right.’ He took the hint and left the room. Sophie finished changing. She was on her way into her office to collect her things when she saw Charlie walking towards her.

  ‘I’ve just seen Angus McFadden,’ he greeted her.

  ‘Oh.’ It hadn’t even occurred to her that McFadden would make a complaint. Obviously he had. And quickly, too. Well, she’d deal with it. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked, lifting her chin and giving him her coolest, most professional gaze.

  He gave her a wry smile. ‘Only with his ego.’

  She blinked. Was she hearing things?

  ‘We had a little chat. I explained to him that my staff believe in supporting junior doctors and giving them a chance to learn. And I agree with them absolutely.’

  McFadden had complained about her and Charlie had backed her? The rush of pleasure was followed by an even stronger rush of guilt. She really had been unfair to him. He would have been quite within his rights to tear strips off her for not obeying protocol and questioning the judgement of a senior doctor in a different speciality. ‘Thank you.’ He looked tired, she thought. There were definite dark smudges underneath his eyes, and his skin looked washed out. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘Just finished dealing with a burns case. Don’t get me started on the subject of people mistreating their stepchildren.’

  That sounded as if it went a bit deeper than the usual doctor’s railing against inadequate parenting. Something personal. She linked her fingers behind her back to stop herself impulsively hugging him. Something told her that Charlie wouldn’t appreciate her guessing that something had hurt him or speculating what the problem was.

  ‘My mum always says a decent meal makes you feel a bit better. Tell you what, I’ll shout you a fry-up at the local greasy spoon,’ she offered.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass.’

  She tried to suppress a little stab of hurt. What had she expected? After the way she’d acted towards him, it was hardly surprising that he didn’t want to spend time with her.

  ‘Not that I don’t want to,’ he said, as if reading her face. ‘Just that I tend to be.’ He paused, as if searching for the right word. ‘Hassled, when I’m out. It’s just easier not to go.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Was it her imagination, or was there some weird kind of tension in the corridor? Something that was pulling them closer? She started to suggest that they go to the hospital canteen instead, when she realised he was speaking.

  ‘Sorry. You, first,’ she said.

  ‘I was going to say, if you’re heading home, I might walk with you—if you don’t mind.’

  She frowned. ‘We might not live in the same direction.’ Charlie shrugged. ‘I just need a walk to clear my head.’

  She knew that feeling. A bad day in Theatre—one where you lost your patient, or you had a domestic violence case where the patient claimed it was clumsiness, and you knew that you’d just patched up your patient for now and you’d be doing exactly the same thing for the same patient in a few weeks’ time. The kind of day where, at the end of it, you wanted to be alone—and yet you didn’t want to be alone either. ‘OK. Here’s the deal. How about you walk me home and I make you dinner?’

  He narrowed his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

  ‘Nothing fancy,’ she added. ‘Probably just pasta. Depends what’s in my fridge.’

  ‘Pasta,’ he said softly, ‘sounds just about perfect.’

  ‘Good. I’ll just get my stuff.’

  He nodded. ‘Meet you back here in ten minutes?’

  ‘Ten minutes is fine.’

  ‘And, Sophie?’

  ‘Hmm?’ She looked back over her shoulder at him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TO CHARLIE’S surprise, Sophie was already in the corridor when he came back from his office. Then again, Sophie Harrison wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met. Except maybe Vicky. She had that same kind of seriousness about her. Although his feelings towards Sophie definitely weren’t fraternal—and he didn’t really want to analyse how he did feel where Sophie was concerned. They were hardly even friends. They barely knew each other. But he was drawn to her.

  A moth to a flame.

  Bad move. He should make some excuse and just go home. On his own.

  Except his mouth refused to frame the words.

  They walked together in silence through the back streets to Sophie’s flat. It was an easy silence. She seemed to understand he wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. That he didn’t want to be alone—but he didn’t want to share the load in his head either. Sensitive. He appreciated that.

  As they walked along, his hand brushed against hers. Just once. It was as if some kind of current flowed between them—just in time, he folded his fingers into his palm. Her offer of dinner meant food. It didn’t mean she wanted him to hold her hand.

  Maybe this was a bad move. Sophie made him feel like a hormonal teenager. She was a colleague. Well, technically, he was her boss, so that meant hands off. And he wasn’t in the market for a relationship anyway. He had too much baggage to carry around. Weston, the estate, heirs—ah, hell. All he wanted to be was a doctor. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why couldn’t he have been born someone else?

  Sophie unlocked the door to a shared lobby, then unlocked another door and stood aside. ‘It’s straight up the stairs,’ she said.

  ‘It’s convenient for work,’ he said. They weren’t far from the hospital.

  ‘I know—it’s walking distance. I was lucky to get it. But my landlady—who lives on the ground floor—has a soft spot for doctors. Plus I feed her cat while she’s away. She leaves her key with me.’ Sophie grinned. ‘Mind you, if she pops round when my mum’s here, you can’t get a word in edgeways between the two of them.’

  He stifled a ripple of envy. When had his mother last visited his flat? Though maybe that was his own fault. Given the choice between having his mother and Barry using his place as a hotel and paying fo
r them to stay somewhere on their rare trips to London, he’d opted to keep his privacy.

  Sophie’s flat, although immaculately tidy, felt warm and inviting. The kind of place where people would congregate. And, judging from the photographs pinned on a cork board in her kitchen, people congregated around Sophie a lot. Some of the pictures were of hospital staff, on what he assumed were departmental nights out of some sort. Others were of people he didn’t know, but some of them bore a close resemblance to Sophie. Family, he guessed, and his stomach tightened.

  ‘Why the thaw?’ he asked, needing to know.

  ‘Thaw?’ She switched the kettle on.

  ‘We didn’t exactly get off to a good start.’ She’d made it very clear she didn’t like him. ‘But you invited me here to dinner tonight.’

  ‘You walked me home.’

  He didn’t buy that. And obviously it showed on his face, because she shrugged. ‘OK. I suppose I felt a bit guilty. I haven’t really given you a chance since you started at the Hampstead General.’

  He waited for her to tell him why.

  As he’d hoped, she filled the silence. ‘I assumed you’d be like the upper-class—’ She stopped, as if biting something back, then continued quietly, ‘Like the med students I knew. And you’re not.’

  So she’d had a hard time at med school because of her background? He could see how that would make her dislike people from the so-called privileged classes. Although maybe it was time she let go of old grudges. ‘Most eighteen-year-old boys have a lot of growing up to do,’ he said quietly. ‘And most first-year students are a pain in the neck.’

  She knew that, but the students concerned hadn’t been first years. Far from it. It had happened in her final year, and—Sophie stopped herself. She wasn’t going to think about that. And she definitely wasn’t going to tell Charlie what had happened. It was none of his business. ‘Do you take sugar in your coffee?’

  ‘No, just milk, thanks.’ He nodded to the gossip magazine in the middle of the table. Celebrity Life. ‘Do you actually read these things?’

  ‘No, it’s my mum’s. She’s a sucker for those TV programmes where celebs show you around their homes, too.’ Sophie pulled a face. ‘Not my style at all.’