Merlot Montana – Sunrise for two
Sunrise for two
Written by Merlot Montana who holds the publishing rights
Copyright © Merlot Montana 2012
Sunrise for two
Chapter One
Harry switched on her computer and pulled a large bunch of grapes out of her bag. It was Monday and it was going to be a really long time until lunch. Her computer looked like a horrible lab experiment, new drives and slots grafted onto the side and held in place by a nest of wires, and some brightly coloured elastic bands. She took a mouthful of strong coffee and wondered why Mike always put milk in the first cup of the day. He seemed to remember her tastes by about mid-morning, but the first cup always had the mournful neutralized flavour of beans with the bite taken out.
“Good weekend?” he asked, feeling the usual tingle when she smiled at him.
“Too short,” she said with a grin, and he delighted in the elegantly baritone overtones of her voice.
“Maybe you should have slept more.”
“Maybe, but then I would have had less fun.” She drained her coffee mug and smiled appreciatively when he filled it again. She pulled a cereal bar out of her bag and placed it on her table next to a picture of her favourite hideaway in the Lake District. She was counting off the days until they returned.
“Are you not eating that yet?” asked Simon, he had been in a relationship for two weeks and his new partner had rather forcefully suggested a diet.
“It’s all yours,” she said sympathetically, “I think you’ve got a great body.”
“You too Harry,” Simon told her sincerely, and smiled apologetically at Michael, his longing and possessiveness palpable as he hovered beside her.
“How is Julia?” Michael asked casually, keen to prolong the conversation, wanting to see her smile again.
“She’s fine, she spent most of Sunday practicing for her two minute saxophone solo.”
“What was it like?”
“Utterly awful, I had to drink almost a whole bottle of wine just to get to the interval.”
“I thought you were singing.”
I was, but she drowned me out so often that I had plenty of time for drinking.”
“Sounds fun.”
She grinned at him and ran her hand through her tousled curls. “What about you?”
“I had fun too.” He said awkwardly, he didn’t want to say that he spent the weekend thinking about seeing her on Monday.
“I’m glad.” She said affectionately, and raised her eyebrows when their boss stepped crossly out of her office and gestured pointedly the phones.
Then she answered the first call of the day. “IT helpline” she said as warmly as she could. He was already at breaking point. Usually the computers didn’t upset the day shift clinicians this much so early in the morning, but he’d had a head start and so she let him rant a bit until he started to lose steam. Then she cut in, just as he got to the paranoid part, and coolly started getting the facts. He began to get annoyed again and demanded her name. She spelt it out for him very carefully and asked for his. He faltered then and she smiled, she had him now. She took down the rest of the facts, his spirit was broken. Deftly she resolved the very simple problem and wished him well in her kindest voice. Then she cut him off just slightly before his thanks were finished and moved onto the next call.
The fifth was the best of the day. He was a consultant physician, something he reminded her of about ten times before the end of the first minute. She’d spelt her name by the end of the third minute and solved his problem by the fifth. Then the server crashed and she spent the rest of the day drinking black coffee and wishing for a lunch break.
They had the system shakily running by four, but there were errors in program that pulled up the blood results. “It's okay now Harry, I think we can leave it.” Mike told her tiredly. He poured them each another cup of coffee and checked his text messages.
“No it's not okay.” she said emphatically, then smiled at him apologetically. “People need these results Mike, there's a surgeon who has been emailing me every half hour since lunchtime. I can't let him down.”
He smiled back, their focus on the computer had led to them sitting very close to each other, and he was finding it hard to concentrate. “They're lucky to have you.” he said softly. He watched her rubbing the back of her neck and wondered what she would do if he offered her a massage. Harry picked up the phone yet again, she listened sympathetically and smiled into the undeserving receiver, he allowed himself to savour her lovely profile, then he took a deep breath and filled up her coffee cup. She smiled up at him, and mouthed her thank you. He smelt her perfume as he stepped away and wondered if she would ever notice him.
Harry promised that a member of team would look at their computers as soon as they could. She emailed the longsuffering trio who sorted out computers across the site, and put in the special code red that told them a complaint was only days away.
The next caller was struggling to access a database he urgently needed, Harry pulled up his details on her system and started working. He watched her fingers dancing over the keys, she was wearing a pink T-shirt with a subtle reference to a computer game. He knew her love of bad music from the 80s and he could see that she was still listening to her latest gadget under dark curls. He wanted to tell that this was one of the many reasons he liked her so much. She was laid back but passionate at the same time, and he bought her favourite chocolate bar from the vending machine and felt the tingle when she smiled.
Chris tried the phone again, it was still engaged. His shift had finished at midday, but he had spent the whole morning stabilizing a patient with a badly injured leg and now he needed to check that there was no infection. He had been getting an automated reply from the IT department all afternoon and he could feel his frustration rising. He reminded himself that there was probably someone working very hard to solve the problem. All the same, he could see his patient starting to deteriorate, and he would take on any battle to keep her in one piece. The ward sister appeared by his side and handed him a warm cheese sandwich left over from the long departed lunch trolley. “It’s a sacking offence to eat the patient’s food,” she said conversationally.
“Thanks Anna” he said with a distracted smile.
“It’s probably also a sacking offence to let good surgeons work themselves into the ground.” she added affectionately. He looked at her then, the stains of tiredness highlighting the blue of his eyes.
“She’s 18 and she’s got a picture of her horse in her pocket.”
“I know honey.”
“Any news on the blood results?”
“Not yet.”
He swore quietly, the traces of his Scottish accent hardening into a burr. “What are they doing down there?” he asked in frustration.
The phone was still ringing at 5pm and Harry stretched tiredly and announced the IT department as politely as she could. He started shouting almost immediately and she drained the cold cup balanced on top of her monitor. “All I want is a set of blood results.” He said again. “Surely even for someone with your obvious lack of organisational skills that’s not impossible.”
“There’s nothing on the system.” She replied calmly, as she had already done a couple of times. He made some rather cutting remarks about her intellect and she signalled to Mike for another drink. He gestured that the machine was empty and their usual supply of filter coffee depleted. Hating to disappoint her he held up a note saying that he would run across to the small supermarket opposite the hospital. She shook her head, but he smiled at her and rushed out of the office. She focussed again on the man shouting into the phone, and wondered idly if he had even paused for breath.
“That’s my pa
ger,” he said with exasperation, and rang off without saying goodbye.
She turned her attention back to the server, it was stable again, but she needed to find out why it had collapsed. She knew that there was data missing and she felt the pressure of the hard working staff depending on her. Carefully she scrolled through the logs stretching her tired shoulders. She closed her eyes for a moment, straining her mind for inspiration. She had an idea and started typing, feeling a sudden tingle of excitement at the thought of solving the problem. She heard voices in the training team that shared the other end of her portacabin and she wondered idly if they were producing another terrible compulsory customer service film.
“Hello,” a man said irritably, she recognised his voice and raised an eyebrow.
“How did you get in here?” she asked with mild curiosity.
“I’ve just got a consultant post,” he said, slightly dramatically. “And I'm determined to keep all my patients alive.”
“Congratulations.” She said drily, wondering if he had specially chosen a pair of surgeon's blues that emphasized the hard lines of his stomach and the satisfying way his muscular thighs filled his trousers. He ignored her and took a step closer, she realised how tall he was and looked approvingly at his long legs, and the way his dark stubble gave him a slightly feral look.
“Do you keep printouts of all the bloods as they get entered?” he asked, and she wondered idly where that sexy trace of an accent was from.
“I’m afraid not.” She said apologetically, imagining him barking orders at the nurses and bravely making the difficult decisions that needed to be made.
“I’d like to discuss that with your supervisor.” He stepped even closer to her desk, looming behind Mike’s chair. The comic related art that Mike cluttered his desk space with was at the same height as his deliciously defined thighs.
“Excellent idea,” Harry said approvingly, still admiring his intensity and his proportions, “would you like her direct number?” She toyed with the idea of pointing to Belinda, just visible in her office behind the stack of photocopied memos and carefully written safety pathways. In the end she decided against it, she wanted to keep this tall passionate doctor all to herself.
“What’s the point?” he said bitingly, “You lot seem to have a policy of not answering your phones.” On cue, the receiver on her desk started ringing and she looked up at him, deciding whether or not to answer it.
Chris paused then and looked at the messy desks behind her. “Over there, that looks like a stack of blood forms.” Harry sighed and manoeuvred her wheelchair away from her desk. She had been through this routine a couple of times before, in fact Belinda had written a policy and a flow chart after the last incident. They did print out blank forms to use for their programming, but there simply wasn’t the storage space to keep records on all patients.
“Oh I’m sorry.” Chris said awkwardly, he stopped looking at her face and stared instead at her delicate legs. Then he took a step back and pushed his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure you working as hard as you can.” He added heartily, watching the colour rising in her lovely throat, and feeling worse by the moment. “Once again, my apologies, I can see how hard you’re trying.”
“You didn’t have anything to apologise for until you said that.” She told him quietly, her dark eyes no longer meeting his. She wheeled back to the safety of her desk, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“Why are you apologising?” Mike asked protectively, he had spent the past three years studying Harry’s beautiful face, and he knew when she was upset. “Why are you in here at all?” he added, wishing he had taken that self-defence class that his mother had emailed him about.
“His patient’s bloods are missing.” Harry told him quietly, rubbing her hand across the back of her neck.
“Well that’s no reason to harass her.” Mike said hotly, wishing the man was smaller.
“No you’re right. I’m sorry.” Chris smiled apologetically at her and backed awkwardly out of the portacabin and disappeared into the hospital.
“Is everything okay?” Rafiq asked, returning from his cigarette break.
“Yes it's fine.” said Harry unconvincingly, her mind replaying the moment when his handsome face had changed from excitingly angry to painfully embarrassed. Mike was watching her, his plump features radiating protective concern. Harry willed him not to say anything and she felt a surge of relief when her neighbour appeared to collect her for their journey home. “Have a good evening guys.” she said with an unconvincing smile and they stepped out into the damp May evening.
“What happened?” Julia asked finally, when they were safely beyond the IT suite in the echoing hospital car park. She had known Harry since the start of university and she knew that the best way to find out what was wrong was to tackle her head on.
“This big handsome surgeon came crashing into the department yelling at me about his blood results. He was vibrating with intensity and dedication and it was all quite entertaining.” She wanted to add that she had found him so very attractive, that she had imagined kissing him to the sound of one of the pop groups that she loved so much. But she didn’t, she felt embarrassed even remembering her thoughts. Julia was still watching her, and she took a breath and finished her sentence. “It was all quite entertaining,” she reiterated, “and exciting until he saw my chair and fled.”
Then she slid into the jumble of empty juice bottles, crisps, chocolate wrappers and CDs that filled Julia's car and took a deep breath. She was used to people reacting badly, so why had he upset her? She watched the people on the side of the road, walking, standing, cycling and she closed her eyes. “You've got a good life Harry.” she told herself firmly, while a tiny traitorous part of her mind imagined walking with him through the restaurants, coffee shops and ice cream parlours that lined the journey home.
Julia stopped the car and Harry looked at her. “Come on,” she said affectionately, “let's go and chose a film and a pizza.”
Chapter Two
Fast food and a romantic comedy worked their magic, by morning she had almost forgotten him and she drank her first coffee with Mike and laughed when he told her about his evening wearing a badly fitting uniform as part of a battle re-enactment. He pulled his chair closer to her and said softly, “Are you okay?”
“I’m always okay Mike, you know that.”
“Of course,” he felt a twist of disappointment in his stomach, and wished that he could be the man that she confided in, but he knew her gentle boundaries and he smiled at her, and moved back to the safe territory of their evening’s entertainment. The atmosphere changed when their manager arrived, Belinda wore suits with the jacket buttoned up all year round and read all the trust policies. She was accompanied by a surgeon and she introduced him to Harry as Mr Patel, the head of orthopaedics. She explained that they were planning to set up a televised teaching clinic and needed the technology to record it. “I said that you were the best.” Belinda said, with almost a trace of a smile.
Harry blinked her surprise. “Thank you,” she smiled up at the big man in the beautifully made suit, “What do you need?”
“Come with me my dear. We're having a planning meeting and we love to have you there.” Harry smiled her thanks at her boss, a morning away from the advice line did sound good. Then she followed Mr Patel out into the corridor where the smell of disinfectant and tiredness contrasted with the cheerful voices of a gaggle of medical students.
Chris hesitated for a moment outside the IT corridor. He had thought about her all evening, and he knew that her delicious voice had echoed in his dreams. Even a punishing round of rugby practice had not been enough to knock the feeling out of him that he had really gotten things wrong. He cared about people, he liked to think that he made their lives better, but he knew that he had hurt her. He just hadn't expected her to be beautiful, with big dark eyes that made him think of poetry and art.
He remembered the amusement in her pretty mouth as he questioned
her intelligence and her professionalism. Then his mind replayed the sudden pain that had flared across her expressive face as he reacted so badly to her wheelchair, and he berated himself for his insensitivity yet again. He pushed his hands into his pockets and tried to think of the right words to say to her; a way to apologise for the shame he had felt when he realised how badly he was behaving. He wanted to explain that even if she had been able walk, he would have felt ashamed of himself, but whenever he got near the subject of her wheelchair his words tangled up, so he walked up to the operating theatres and made himself a strong cup of coffee. He was an orthopaedic surgeon. He wasn't interested in poetry and art.
He sat down and tried to focus on his case list, but his mind wandered unbidden back to his early childhood, an image of his mother listening to jazz music and creating yet another gorgeous meal, slid traitorously into his consciousness. She had always generated masterpieces with the products of the bargain supermarket that she had to use. And the sound of her warm laughter blossomed into his mind. He took a breath, and shut down the thoughts. He had patients to see and he needed his head to be clear.
The nurse in charge of the operating theatre where he spent most of his time joined him in the coffee room. “You okay?” she asked.
“It's been a long week.” he said with a smile, fighting an almost physical urge to face Harry again and apologise.
“It’s been an awful week,” the nurse said softly, “and you've pushed through the waiting list like a train, do something good this weekend.”
He nodded and wondered what Harry would say if he invited her out for dinner. He was still wondering when the man in charge of surgery paged him and asked him to meet him in the boardroom. Reluctantly he walked down to the entrance of the hospital, took the plush elevator that only lead up to one floor and wondered what entirely pointless meeting he had forgotten now.
The training meeting was underway when he arrived, there was a complicated diagram on the screen about the need to train doctors in new types of operations. He sat down at the big polished table and felt his pulse quicken. Harry was sitting opposite him, and he drank in her gloriously dark skin and her cheekbones. She was wearing an elegantly tailored shirt, buttoned almost to her neck, and he couldn't help noticing her generous breasts. He looked around the room, looked at the men nodding and smiling at her and wondered how many of them had noticed her intoxicating build. Harry felt his hungry gaze and arched an eyebrow, he smiled apologetically and looked back at the screen. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Long gently curly hair, a lovely mouth and a delicate build with those eye catching curves that looked feminine even in her cotton top.
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