Sunrise for Two

by Merlot Montana

  The clinicians were detailing the nuances of their operations and procedures, and Harry was making rapid notes with her black fountain pen, addressing all the possible ways of capturing the images in a way that would allow for people to look at them from different angles. Chris watched the normally aggressive head of anaesthetics deftly managed by the combination of her smiles and her clear headed perspective on the practicalities of implementation. There were eight men in the room, all older than her and all asking her questions at once, if she was nervous then it didn't show, but she did drink a lot of coffee.

  They stopped at lunch time, and she sat back in her chair, her relief obvious. The new head of the transplant team stepped quickly out of his seat and sat down on the table close beside her to continue his conversation. Chris watched her rubbing the back of her neck, and wondered if she was even aware that she did it. He wondered also how she would react if he offered her a massage. She drank yet another mouthful of coffee and smiled at a remark from Mr Patel, Chris took a deep breath and rose to his feet he decided that he would escort her back to the IT suite and make her smile, it wasn’t very often that a woman had had this kind of effect on him, and he knew he would be a fool to stand by and let her go.

  An overweight man that he recognised from the previous day appeared awkwardly in the doorway. He had long messy hair tied back with what looked like an elastic band, and a shirt with a superhero logo was stretched over his stomach. “Belinda says can you come back? The blood results from this morning have disappeared off the system.” Harry said her goodbyes and Chris watched her manoeuvre her chair away from the table.

  She was wearing well cut trousers that partially obscured her shoes and he wondered how tall she was. She didn't look at him and he was surprised at how much that disappointed him. He wasn't used to making such a bad impression on a beautiful woman. He imagined the amusement in his housemate's eyes. “This will be good for you.” he would say.

  “She really knows her stuff.” The head of anaesthetics said approvingly.

  "Come on guys,” Mr Patel said with a smile “she's also gorgeous.”

  The head of anaesthetics nodded, “Quite stunning, I understand you're divorced again Mr Patel.”

  The elegant surgeon shook his head ruefully. “She's far too young, I realised that last time.” Chris poured himself another cup of coffee and listened to their conversation. It had been a very long time since he had thought seriously about anything aside from his career. He had focussed the past decade on reaching this point, but if he was honest with himself, then at this moment his success felt pretty empty. He decided that he would have to swallow his pride and think of a way of talking to her.

  Harry followed Mike into the corridor. She was grateful for his silence and the chance to think. She had completely lost her train of thought when Chris arrived, and she hoped it hadn't been too obvious. He had been wearing a shirt that emphasized the gorgeous nature of his powerful build, shoulders that barely fitted beneath his slightly rumpled shirt and a lean flat waist distractingly delineated by a faded belt. His trousers were good quality, but slightly frayed and they showed his long long legs to perfection. She liked the fact that he was rather scruffy. She wondered if that reflected his obvious passion for medicine. Then the memory of his shock when he saw her chair came unbidden into her mind and she forgot her attraction to him. She had been hurt before by a tall dark and handsome man and she didn’t think she could bear the pain again.

  Fortunately the server filled her thoughts completely, she ironed out the creases in the blood results and smoothed over a fight between Mike and the scary woman who inputted the data in the laboratory. She placated the woman who maintained the database of blood cultures, remembering that she liked horses and asking her about her recent jumps, and she worked until six in a coffee fuelled haze. Mike stayed behind with her, he could see that she was tired, but he knew better than to suggest that she stopped. Julia appeared beside her when the office was empty and the battered portacabin was starting to get cold even in the summer sun. “Come on you” she said affectionately, “I've got a craving for curry.”

  They stopped in the vibrant throng of Indian restaurants and takeaways and ate poppadum’s as the sun went down. “How are you feeling honey?” Julia asked her when her main course had arrived and the exuberant Indian love song filling the room grew slightly quieter.

  “I'm okay thanks, he just caught me off guard. One of the reasons I like my job so much is that it lets me forget.” She paused as a piece of chilli tingled in her throat, and drained a glass of water. “Not about my legs, but about people's reactions to them.” she added softly.

  “People just don't think Harry, and this guy, he sounds like an idiot.”

  “That's just the problem,” Harry said ruefully, “he wasn’t.” She filled up her glass and took another mouthful of water and her dark eyes held Julia’s for a moment. “I know it sounds silly,” she added finally, “but he’s the sort of guy I hoped to meet when I took this ridiculous job.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then smiled at her friend. “I know it is preposterous isn’t it? He’s not going to be interested in me. He’s bound to be this athletic superstar who likes lean long legged blondes. I can imagine them spending their weekends watching one another in sporting exploits then playing volleyball together at barbecues full of tall beautiful people.”

  “Harry he’s a surgeon living in Manchester not a lifeguard in Cornwall.”

  “You’re right, of course you are, although it would be fun to meet a lifeguard from Cornwall.” She smiled her thanks when the waiter who knew her well brought her a cup of coffee, then looked the woman she confided in. “We look after each other you and I, and I love that, but sometimes I just really ache for someone to hold my hand.”

  “I know what you mean about those aches and cravings,” Julia said with a grin, “sometimes that itch is quite hard to bear.”

  Harry smiled at her, feeling the familiar twist of discomfort in her stomach, she had locked her sexuality away, frightened about exposing her vulnerabilities, particularly to a man that she might find attractive.

  “Sorry honey, I didn’t mean to touch that sore spot.”

  “It’s okay Jules, you’re a normal girl, and any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “They’re not queuing up.” Julia said ruefully, and helped herself to another poppadum.

  The glorious colours of the evening spring sky lit up the restaurant window, and back at the hospital Chris was shaken outside of his usual preoccupation with his patients by the clean colours and the hint that stars might exist beyond the Manchester cloud cover. He stopped for a moment in the car park and watched the lovely hues above the incinerator. He'd spent the afternoon wondering whether to return to the IT cabin and invite Harry for wine and then dinner. It was a strategy that had worked well with nurses when he was a junior doctor, but he remembered the way she had looked at him when he interrupted the meeting and he had decided reluctantly that he needed to be rather more subtle, a thought that alarmed him.

  He met Mr Patel in the canteen the following Monday. They ate overcooked food in a comfortable silence until Chris asked casually when the next training meeting was. Chris had worked for the older man for a long time before he became a consultant in his own right. They had spent long nights in the silence of the operating theatre and days in the packed outpatient clinics. “I've never known you to ask when a meeting is,” his mentor said with a smile.

  “It's a very worthy cause.” Chris said awkwardly, remembering the way her eyes slanted when she smiled.

  “I'm glad you think so,” Mr Patel told him, gracefully cutting a rather unpleasant lump out of his scrambled eggs, “although if you don't mind me saying you looked a bit distracted.”

  “She's rather hard to miss," Chris said softly, "I've been thinking about her."

  “Well I'm glad. You've been far too preoccupied with your job.”

  “The trouble is that I've got no idea
how to go about things, I don’t even know where to start.” he said, his blue eyes suddenly intense.

  “All the usual girl stuff tends to be very effective.” Mr Patel told him with practiced ease, “Find out what she likes, learn what she’s interested in and let her know that she is genuinely beautiful.” Chris nodded, he guessed that yelling at her and backing away when he'd seen her chair were probably a bad start.

  He had the chance to practice his lines when he found her sitting in the corridor outside the IT suite. She was wearing a pale blouse that accentuated the lovely warmth of her skin, and he delighted in her curves and wondered how long he could admire her without becoming obvious. She was sending a text and she started slightly when he said hello.

  “Hi,” she said, and grinned sheepishly, “Belinda always tells us not to text in the hospital.”

  “I promise not to tell her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you waiting for someone?”

  “Yes,” her gaze flashed briefly to the door marking the women’s toilets, and he felt a flash of protective concern that he didn’t recognise.

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Tell me you’re not offering me personal assistance.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He smiled hopefully at her and tried to think through the adrenaline and pheromones fogging his mind. “How are the blood results?”

  “Unruly, but we’re winning at the moment.”

  He launched into a lengthy explanation of the consultant’s meeting he was walking to, trying to spin out the story and willing her to join in the conversation. She nodded and smiled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster and he cast around desperately for a more interesting topic. A plump woman in a fluorescent green jumper erupted from the toilets, her bleeper was sounding and she vibrated with anxiety. She stopped when she saw Chris, her anxiety visibly rising further. Harry held out her hand and the woman tried to pass her the item as discretely as she could. She smiled at Harry and disappeared down the corridor.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked finally, he wanted to tell her that he could look after her, that she could talk to him, and that he was usually very charming.

  Harry didn’t look charmed, she looked irritated and keen to escape. “I can’t believe you’re making me spell this out Chris. I forgot a monthly product that women need, and the people who built our fine hospital didn’t think to stock the disabled toilets.”

  “Are you going to write and complain?”

  “Not today Chris.”

  “Do you want to go for coffee?”

  She looked up at him, and smiled as politely as she could. “Maybe some other time.” She said finally, wondering why surgeons seemed to know so little about female physiology, then she disappeared back into the sanctuary of the IT department.

  Chris watched her departure, he replayed the conversation in his head and wondered if there was any possible way it could have gone worse. He found the urge to run after her and ask if they could try again, but the look of mild distain on her face was still bruising him, and he walked slowly to the operating theatres and had a satisfying argument with an anaesthetist.

  It was almost four when he was paged into theatre, and he worked until 7, carefully repairing the damage caused by a motorbike and a tree. Afterwards he wrote up the operation in his careful sentences. The charge nurse brought him coffee and laughed at his jokes, he described the operation to her in detail and wondered why they could talk so easily. She reminded him of the ward night out, but he knew himself well enough to know what would happen if her joined her and instead he drove home in silence trying not to think about Harry. He parked his car and his restless feet followed the path to his usual takeaway. He had never been good with words, not when it mattered, they tangled up in his head and led him into trouble.

  He realised that she made him feel lonely, well actually that wasn’t fair. She highlighted the things he wanted, to feel close to someone he really cared for, to feel that sense of intimacy, to let her know what he was thinking. He remembered the look on her face, and felt a horrible sense of futility, she really didn’t look as though she would welcome the chance to know what was on his mind. He thought about joining the ward night out, he wasn’t a poet, there was no way he could talk his way into someone’s heart. The nurses always went to the same bar and he pushed his hands into his pockets weighed up his options. Afterwards he wondered what would have happened if he had caught a bus back into town, if he hadn’t seen her sitting in the passenger seat of a little green car that was waiting at the lights. She was talking animatedly and gesturing with her hands, and when she laughed he decided that if he had to, then he would learn some poetry.

  Chapter three

  Having almost counted down the days, Chris ended up being late for the next training meeting. He had spent the night carefully repairing a leg and the time had slipped by. Chris took a mouthful of cold powdery coffee and fought the urge to rush through his handover. But he knew that he couldn't let a patient suffer because of his own desires. Finally he was free, he moved quickly through the corridors, savouring the memory of her smile, and the tingle he had felt when she laughed at a remark Mr Patel had made.

  The lift was out of order, and he wondered anxiously how Harry had coped. She was presenting when he arrived and he was acutely conscious of the fact that he disturbed her flow. The rest of the meeting passed in a blur while he rehearsed a sensitive way of asking her if she needed help getting back down to the IT suite. It didn't sound sensitive when he finally said it out loud, and he watched the colour creeping up from her delicate throat. “That’s very kind, but there’s no need to worry about me. There’s a service lift at the back I can use.” she explained politely, unable to meet his eye.

  “Would you like a hand walking back there?” he asked, then wondered if his choice of words was a mistake.

  “I’m fine, but thank you.” she said firmly, and gracefully navigated her way out of the room.

  Chris took a deep breath, he couldn’t meet Mr Patel’s eyes and he walked slowly back to the operating theatres feeling strangely anxious. He knew himself well enough to know that his feelings were getting stronger, and that he was a loyal man whose emotions did not fade quickly. He remembered the wariness in her dark eyes and reflected ruefully that he had no idea what to do next. The stinging memories of the last time he had really cared for someone slid intrusively into his mind; the woman who had finally chosen his housemate. He drove home in unhappy silence, forcing his tired eyes to focus on the road.

  Nicola was washing up when he let himself in and he hugged her, glad of the contact. “Hey how you doing handsome?” she asked affectionately, thinking not for the first time, that he had the most intoxicating smell.

  “I think I might have met someone almost as interesting as you.” Chris said easily, glad to be finally completely free of his unresolved feelings.

  “Lucky girl,” she said, her sudden stab of jealousy a surprise to her.

  “I don't think she'd agree.” Chris said ruefully, “We've gotten off to the wrong start.”

  “You can make it right,” Nicola said warmly, annoyed with herself for her selfishness, she had made her decision and she wanted Chris to be happy too, “you’re very charming when you’re not too distracted.” she added, making up her mind to support the man she cared about.

  “I'm not sure I can sort it Nic, I really made quite a mess of things.” He replayed the moment when he had reacted to her chair, the hurt in her eyes hitting him all over again.

  “Don't let her mess you around.” She said firmly, determined to make sure this woman was good enough.

  “It's not like that.” he said, surprised at how protective he felt. “I've been a complete idiot around her.”

  “Well you can change that.”

  “I hope so,” he said softly, wishing she did
n’t make him feel like an enthusiastic schoolboy.

  Nicola grinned at him and said with feeling. “Bring her round for dinner, I want to meet her.”

  “I'm not sure she's talking to me.” he said ruefully, the reality of that statement making him feel worse. Then he smiled at her rather unconvincingly. “Good to catch up with you. I'm going out for a run.”

  Harry felt restless too, she took a mouthful of wine and opened her book. It was set in Africa and she drank in the descriptions of space and freedom, and stretched her tired shoulders. She had played a lot of tennis at university, but her usual partner had moved to London, and she didn’t feel confident enough to join any of the local clubs. She missed that sense of exerting herself until she felt tired and she rubbed her neck again and tried to relax into the freedom of her book. Olivia and Julia let themselves in through her front door and she gestured to the wine without looking up. “You've forgotten haven't you.” Olivia said calmly. Harry looked at her unrepentantly and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You absolutely promised me you'd cook at my outdoor event in the park.” Olivia told her, trying to sound accusing and helpful at the same time.

  Harry took a deep mouthful of wine then transferred back into her chair. “Sorry.” she said unconvincingly.