A light bulb flashed inside her head. She could sit around and cry, overindulge in ice-cream and Tim Tams, or she could do something about it. The old Lauren would have gone for the first option and spent days wailing to herself about life’s injustices before falling into bed with someone else. But that wasn’t who she wanted to be anymore, and someone else would never do. There was only one option—she had to make Tom see sense.
She’d give him today—she needed time to rid the puffiness from her eyes anyway—but then she’d make him listen. If he could look her in the eyes and tell her he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her like she wanted him, then she’d force herself to retreat and, somehow, she’d recover. She would abandon all hope of a husband and family and go join Frank in Nepal. Maybe she could do some good over there. The modern world needed a Mother Teresa.
And maybe that was her destiny. Maybe that’s what fate was trying to tell her with her dismal luck in love. But she wasn’t going to roll over and accept this destiny without a fight.
Tom was worth a little kung-fu.
Chapter Twenty-five
Tom felt like a robot as he rolled out of bed the day after Boxing Day and looked around the sparsely furnished room. With no pictures on the plain white walls, cold linoleum floor and only a single bed, bedside table and wardrobe that looked left over from the fifties, it had the same clinical feel as a hospital room. None of the warmth and love he’d felt while living with Lauren.
He shook that thought from his head. He hadn’t been living with her; he’d been living in her house. There was a huge difference, one he’d failed to remember in the last few weeks. On autopilot, he headed down the corridor into the shared shower block. He heard chatter coming from the kitchen. Probably the agency nurses, who also used this accommodation when they had a number of shifts close together. He didn’t feel like making small talk with anyone right now, so he showered and dressed quickly, skipped breakfast and then headed into the hospital to visit his patients before the day officially started.
‘Morning, Dr Lewis.’
Lost in his thoughts, he startled at the sound of Taryn’s voice as he approached the nurses’ station. ‘Morning,’ he managed as he looked behind her to see which nurse was in the office. He let out a breath when he recognised Sheila’s grey hair tied back in her usual bun. Lauren must be on the late shift. It would be difficult to avoid her entirely—emergencies took no one’s personal problems into account—but he’d take a good look at the roster for her last couple of weeks and try to schedule his hospital visits when she wasn’t on duty.
Doing so would be easier for both of them.
‘Did you have a good Christmas?’ Taryn flicked her long black ponytail over her shoulder and smiled. ‘Barbara has been telling me all about it. Sounds like a riot. I’m almost sad I had to lounge around by the pool all day.’
He attempted a laugh, contemplating the fact that if Taryn had been working instead of Lauren, maybe things would have been different. Was falling for Lauren his punishment for not spending Christmas with his family? If God existed, he sure had a sick sense of humour.
‘Are you all right, Dr Lewis? You don’t look very well.’ Taryn started around the desk, her hand raised as if she were about to lay it on his forehead.
‘I’m fine. Christmas was good.’ He stepped out of her reach. The idea of any woman touching him right now made his skin crawl. If he couldn’t have the touch of the woman he craved, he wanted nothing. The flings and one-night stands he’d had since breaking up with Lisa had seemed a good solution back then but they weren’t an option now. Not now he’d been with Lauren.
‘What are you doing for New Year?’ Taryn persisted. ‘The top pub is generally the place to be.’
New Year? He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Getting through Boxing Day had been hard enough. Forcing himself to shower, exercise, take his vitamins. What was the point of any of it? At least today he had work to keep his mind occupied.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ he said, hoping it didn’t sound like a brush-off. Then before she could try to engage him in further conversation, he turned on his heels and headed towards the residential wing.
‘Good morning.’ He’d forced a smile when he entered Alf’s room, not wanting any of the elderly patients to notice anything different about him.
Alf looked up from where he sat looking miserable on the end of the bed. ‘Is it?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m over this joint. I thought it wouldn’t be that bad being close to Nancy all the time, but I miss my independence. I miss Ginger and I miss being able to make a damn coffee when I want one.’
‘Let’s take a look at that arm.’ Tom strode over to Alf, who sat still while he examined him. ‘When did you say your family was coming back?’
‘Tomorrow afternoon. Couldn’t stay away from the farm and the animals any longer.’
Tom nodded. He didn’t want to let Alf go too early and risk another accident, but he understood the man’s frustrations at being cooped up when all that was wrong was one broken bone. ‘How are you going at the basics? Dressing yourself? Going to the toilet?’
‘I’m managing. At least I would be if the nurses didn’t fuss so much. They make me nervous. My daughter-in-law already said she’d make some microwave meals up for me and come in once a day to bring me into the hospital. I know I won’t be here as much but to be honest, I don’t think Nancy will notice.’
Something inside Tom clenched. That had to be hard for Alf to admit. ‘She enjoyed the dance the other day,’ he said, hoping to lift the older man’s spirits.
Alf managed a small, wistful smile. ‘Yes. That was good. But I have to be realistic. Her lucid moments are getting few and far between and she recognises me less and less. It hurts.’
‘I know.’ Tom swallowed, thinking about his own father and the knowledge that the time would come when he’d also no longer recognise his loved ones. ‘How about I phone your son and daughter-in-law when they get back and together we’ll work out an action plan to get you out of here?’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate it.’
‘Now come and have some breakfast.’
Alf struggled to a stand and Tom waited for him to go through the door before following. Taryn and Sheila had begun to get the other residents out of bed and he went about his rounds as usual.
Barbara and May brightened when he visited them.
‘What’s this I hear about you dancing with young Lauren and not me, Dr Lewis?’ May demanded when he stopped in on her.
He blinked, trying to offer a nonchalant response. ‘You weren’t here, May. I had to settle for second best.’
May snorted. ‘You’re good, Dr Lewis, you’re good, but I’m not stupid, or blind. You like our Lauren, don’t you?’
Taryn, who was rubbing cream into May’s dry shins, met his gaze with a raised eyebrow.
‘Um… I… She’s a very competent nurse,’ he finally managed, and then turned and all but fled from the room.
He slowed in the corridor, resisting the urge to slap himself in the head as he heard Taryn and May erupt in snorts and giggles. No doubt that unprofessional exit would be all over town by midday. Disgusted with himself, he marched straight to the nurses’ desk, sat down and checked if there were any prescriptions he needed to write.
Once again he remembered Hannah Bates’ warning when he’d arrived in Hope Junction: Keep your distance. Well, he’d made the mistake of trying to be friends with the locals, and it had come back to bite him in more ways than one.
Never before had a patient grilled him about his love life. No more. He had a month left in this position and he would heed her advice for the duration.
When Lauren rounded the corner and saw Tom sitting behind the nurses’ desk, head down, scribbling notes, her stomach flipped and tightened. Focused on what he was doing, he looked serious and utterly gorgeous and she couldn’t help but recall the devotion he’d paid to her the other night. Warmth spread through her bones at the recollect
ion, and her heart ached at the thought of him never touching her again.
Since they were alone, she decided to take the opportunity to approach. She cleared her throat, her heart cramping as she waited for him to look up. It seemed to take forever, but eventually he did and although his expression was glum, she smiled. ‘Hi Tom.’
‘Morning,’ he said gruffly as he closed a folder on the desk and stood. He looked past her, as if searching for the nearest escape route.
Oh no, you don’t. ‘Tom. We need to talk.’
He frowned and glanced at his watch. ‘Is this about a patient?’
‘No.’
‘Then, I’m sorry but I need to get to the surgery.’ He started forward and attempted to go past her. In desperation she reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.
‘Don’t do this,’ she begged. ‘You can’t just refuse to talk to me after what we did.’
He glared down at her grip on his arm. ‘Let go of my arm before someone sees,’ he hissed and then lowered his voice. ‘I’m sorry, Lauren, but there’s nothing to discuss.’
‘Like hell there isn’t.’ She tightened her grip, her heart thrashing wildly around in her chest. How could she love someone and yet be so infuriated by them at the same time? ‘We slept together. You admitted you had feelings for me. I’m not going to ignore that.’
‘Lauren. Just the person I need to see.’
At the sound of Steve’s voice, she loosened her grip and Tom took the chance to snatch his arm away. He nodded at the hospital manager. ‘Good morning, Steve.’
‘Morning, Tom.’ Steve looked from Tom to Lauren. ‘Everything okay here?’
‘Fine. I was just heading off,’ Tom said, not sparing her a glance. ‘You have a good day.’
‘Thank you, Dr Lewis, I will. And you too.’ Steve grinned as Tom stalked off towards the exit.
Lauren found herself shaking in her sensible nursing shoes. The man who’d just walked away from her seemed a hundred times removed from the kind-hearted guy who had cooked for her and played games with the old folks. His eyes had been so cold, his tone so distant and dismissive. He’d been like a stranger with Tom’s face and utterly delicious body. Had she imagined all the good times they’d spent together? And what about the other night? How could he touch her the way he had and then look at her with such detachment?
‘Lauren, are you listening to me?’
Steve’s words snapped her out of her reverie. No, she wanted to scream. Unless Steve could tell her how to get Tom to listen, then nothing he had to say interested her. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘A few of the other nurses and I were discussing your send-off.’
‘My what?’
‘Your going away party.’ He playfully whacked her in the arm. ‘You didn’t think we were going to let you sneak off without at least a few drinks, did you? How about next Friday night? Should give everyone a chance to recover from New Year’s Eve. Do you want to do dinner first at the Distillery?’
Lauren struggled to keep up with his words. A going away dinner? Could anything be less appealing right now? If she didn’t sort things with Tom, she’d be in no mood for any kind of party. And if they did manage to work things out in the next week, maybe she wouldn’t be in such a hurry to move on. She sighed and pressed her hand against the side of her head, a migraine brewing. ‘Yes, that sounds sweet,’ she managed, wishing Steve would bugger off so she could think.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ He leaned in a little closer and scrutinised her. ‘You don’t look that well.’
No amount of make-up could fix a daylong crying session. Her eyes would need a while to recover. And she hadn’t slept well last night either, going over and over in her head how to approach Tom, and what exactly she should say. ‘I’m fine, Steve. I just had a bad night’s sleep.’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘Okay, but if you start feeling ill, you’ll tell me, won’t you? You’ve always been a hard worker, Lauren; no one will hold it against you if you take some sick leave.’
She summoned a smile from Lord knows where. ‘Thanks, Steve.’
Eagerly, she slunk past him to go put her bag in the nurses’ lockers. Mandy, the other nurse on duty, appeared at her side.
‘Hey Lauren. Good Christmas?’
‘Sure,’ she managed. ‘I worked most of it but it was fun. You?’
Mandy thrust her hand in Lauren’s face, making it impossible for her to miss the oversized diamond sparkling on her ring finger. ‘I got engaged!’
Lauren blinked, her heart squeezing as she tried to summon some satisfactory words of congratulations. She felt like she was on an episode of Candid Camera. How many pregnancy or marriage announcements could she take before totally snapping and losing the plot?
‘Wow. Congratulations. That was quick, wasn’t it?’
Mandy had moved to Hope Junction only a few months ago. And like many nurses and teachers who came to work in the sticks, she’d managed to snag herself a virile young farmer.
Still beaming, she nodded. ‘Two months, but when you know, you know, right?’
‘I guess,’ Lauren said quietly, but inside her heart screamed in agreement. She’d known within days of meeting Tom that he was different. If it weren’t so, she’d never have been able to open up to him. With Tom she’d confessed her innermost fears in a way she’d never done before, not even to Whitney. A thought landed in her head. Wrenching her locker open again, she grabbed her bag and started towards Steve’s office.
‘Where are you going?’ Mandy called, but Lauren didn’t have time to answer.
‘Lauren Simpson?’ Tom almost spluttered as he read the name of his next patient. His head snapped up and his eyes focused on her sitting in one of the plastic waiting room chairs.
She offered him a slight smile as she pushed to a stand and his stomach flipped with the kind of nerves he hadn’t experienced since his early years of medical training. Somehow he managed to step back and gesture for her to head down the narrow corridor ahead of him. He watched, transfixed as she sashayed past and into his office. Barely an hour had passed since their altercation in the hospital and he hadn’t been prepared to deal with her again so soon.
Every red blood cell in his body wanted him to follow her into the room, slam the door behind them, push her up against it and re-enact Christmas night. But no matter that his body wanted her like it had never wanted anything before, nothing had changed about their situation. He took a deep breath, clutched her folder tight against his chest and strode into the room.
He found her already sitting in the chair alongside the desk and as he closed the door behind him, the room seemed to shrink. His office usually stank of the disinfectant splashed around by the cleaner each night, but now Lauren’s alluring perfume dominated. Happy indeed. He’d been unable to scrub the scent of flowers and citrus from his skin since their illicit night together.
‘What can I do for you?’ he asked brusquely, sitting down and tucking his legs under the desk to stop them from accidentally brushing up against hers. Willpower would only take him so far.
‘We need to talk, Tom.’ As she repeated her request of that morning, he noticed her quickened breathing, suggesting it had been difficult for her to make this appointment. She rubbed her lips together and he felt his resolve slipping.
But no, he couldn’t afford to get soft. No amount of discussion would change anything. And trying to catch him off guard at work—if that’s what this was—was unacceptable. ‘I’m working, Lauren. Have you an ailment?’ His phrasing sounded awkward even to him.
She nodded.
He sighed and wished he could pretend she was just another patient. ‘What are your symptoms?’
‘I’m having trouble sleeping,’ she said. ‘And I’m finding it difficult to breathe. It hurts right here.’ She pressed her hand against her chest, right above her heart. Of course his gaze lingered.
He silently cursed his lack of professional decorum. ‘Any cough? Fever?’
/>
She shook her head.
‘Sit up on the table.’ He gestured behind him as he grabbed his stethoscope off the desk. She did as she was told and he turned to find her perched up on the examination table waiting for him.
He closed the small distance between them and went to stand behind her. He laid the stethoscope on her back and saw her spine straighten as his fingers touched her. She wasn’t the only one affected. ‘Open your mouth and give me a couple of deep breaths,’ he ordered.
Once again she obeyed, the perfect patient, and as he’d suspected, her breathing sounded perfectly normal. ‘I can’t hear anything sinister.’ He moved around the table to stand in front of her and held his breath as he pressed the stethoscope against her chest. The position he’d adopted on numerous occasions in the past with numerous other patients now seemed far too intimate. His hand shook, making it difficult to do his job.
‘Maybe it would help if I took off my top,’ she suggested.
‘No!’ His heart thrashed in his chest. How fast things could derail if he got even a glimpse of whatever lace underwear she was wearing. Frustrated, he asked, ‘Lauren, are you really feeling sick?’
Before he could stop her, she grabbed his hand, her soft skin covering his palm. ‘My ailment may not be found in any of your med textbooks, but the symptoms are real and you’re the only one that can make them better.’ Her voice shook as she pleaded with her eyes. ‘Please, Tom, don’t walk away from me. I need you to talk to me, to open up. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt when you found out you had the early onset gene, but genetic testing is supposed to give you information to help you plan for the future, not give you an excuse to throw it all away.’
‘You’re right, you can’t understand.’ He snatched his hand back, desperate to put up a wall between them again. Whatever pretty words she threw at him couldn’t change the facts.
The Road to Hope Page 25