Only a while. Her father took them to the bus station, kissed Katie goodbye and stood looking down at Annie for a long moment before hugging her fiercely. ‘You’re going to kill yourself,’ he said gruffly.
‘No. I’m almost done. Just another two weekends.’
‘I wish we could help you.’
‘You do. You’re wonderful to us.’
He grunted, hugged them both again and put them on the bus, then waved them off while Katie chattered and Annie stared back at him with tears in her eyes.
Was he right? Would she kill herself, working like this? Sometimes it felt like it.
She phoned Patrick as they approached Audley, and he was at the bus station to meet them, scooping Katie up and kissing her cheek, then running his eyes over Annie’s face and tightening his mouth to a hard line.
‘Is this all your luggage?’
She nodded, and he took the bag from her, setting Katie back on her feet and letting her unlock his car with the remote before buckling her into the back seat.
He had a booster seat, she noticed, and wondered when he’d acquired it and why. For Katie?
It made her want to cry. He put her bag in the boot, started the engine and pulled away with a speaking glance in her direction.
‘Good weekend?’
‘Busy,’ she said economically, and he gave up trying.
They turned into his drive and he cut the engine, got out and ushered them indoors.
‘Are we going for a walk now?’ Katie asked, her eyes bright, and he nodded.
‘We are. Your mother’s going to bed.’
‘I’m fine,’ Annie said, knowing it wasn’t true but unable to tell him what she’d been doing and why she was so tired, but he just lifted a brow and she gave up.
‘Go on,’ he said softly. ‘Go and get into my bed, and I’ll entertain Katie for a couple of hours, then I’ll cook for us. Off you go.’ And he pushed her gently towards the stairs.
She debated arguing, but the thought of that wonderfully soft white bedding, with the cloud-like goose-down quilt and the best pillows in the world, was too much for her.
‘Half an hour,’ she compromised, and went.
‘Annie?’
She moaned softly and opened her eyes. ‘Hi. What time is it?’
‘Six. Supper’s nearly ready. I thought you might want time to wake up.’
She sat up, grabbing self-consciously at the quilt and shovelling her hair off her face with a distracted hand. ‘Six? Why didn’t you wake me earlier? Oh, Patrick, I said half an hour.’
‘You were exhausted. You are exhausted. What the hell are you trying to do to yourself?’
‘What do you mean?’ she said, hoping he didn’t ask, but it seemed he didn’t have to. He already knew, and she realised Katie must have told him.
‘You can’t work a full week then take on two twelve-hour night shifts at the weekend and go back to work the following day!’ he growled. ‘It isn’t fair to Katie, it isn’t fair to you and it isn’t fair to the patients and staff on the ward. You can’t do it, Annie. You just can’t do it.’
‘I have no choice,’ she said, her voice hollow. ‘I can’t afford the mortgage repayments and until I can get the kitchen done I can’t downsize to something I can afford. So it’s no good yelling at me—’
‘I wasn’t yelling.’
‘It felt like it.’
‘Well, it wasn’t meant to,’ he said roughly, and with a heavy sigh he pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. ‘Oh, Annie. I can’t bear this. Let me help you. Let me sort out the kitchen for you.’
She pushed away, determined not to give in, no matter how tempting it was. ‘No. I can’t. Anyway, I’ve nearly got the money saved. I’ve got two more weekends booked, the weekend after next and the one after that, and that one’s a long weekend, four nights, and by then I should have enough.’
His gaze was serious and searching. ‘And then will you stop?’
She nodded. ‘Then I’ll stop.’
He kissed her, feathering his lips over hers, and stood up. ‘Come on, I’ve put the kettle on. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and Katie can tell you all about our walk.’
‘Meet me for coffee.’
Annie checked her watch. Was that really the time? ‘Sal, I’m a bit pushed. Can you give me ten minutes?’
‘Five—and don’t be longer, or all hell will break loose down here and I’ll lose the chance. I’ll meet you in the canteen at the back.’
Sally was waiting for her by the time she got down to the canteen, with two frothy coffees, a couple of slices of cake and an agenda.
‘Here—eat that, because I know you won’t have had breakfast, and then you can tell me what the hell you’re trying to do to yourself.’
She frowned. ‘Do to myself?’ she said, with a sinking feeling.
‘Mmm. I’ve had Patrick on to me this morning about you doing agency work—and don’t start about how he had no right. I don’t care about that, I care about you. You told me you’d given it up.’
Annie blushed and looked away. ‘I did.’
‘But only for a while.’
‘Three months—but then they contacted me again and they were in a jam, and, well, you know what the house is like. I couldn’t turn it down.’
Sally shook her head and pressed her lips together, her eyes filled with concern. ‘If only you weren’t so stubborn and independent—’
‘This is my mess.’
‘No. It’s Colin’s mess, and, frankly, he’s done enough to you.’
‘He was sick, Sal.’
‘I know.’ Sally reached out and squeezed her hand, then shoved the cake towards her again. ‘Here. Eat. I haven’t got long.’
The cake was gorgeous. Sweet and lemony and full of calories, and the way the morning was panning out, it was just what she needed. So was the coffee. Just before she went to kill Patrick.
‘What do I owe you?’ she asked, and Sally glared at her. ‘Don’t even go there,’ she threatened, and then tilted her head, eying Annie severely. ‘Were you working a few weeks ago when you had your holiday?’
Damn. She was definitely going to strangle Patrick. Anna looked out of the window, fiddled with her cake, stalled.
It didn’t work. ‘Oh, Annie,’ Sally said softly. ‘You’ll kill yourself.’
‘I wish you’d all stop saying that. My parents said it, Patrick’s said it, now you’re at it.’
‘Maybe because it’s true? You look awful, Annie. Absolutely drained, and there’s nothing of you. You have to take better care of yourself, for Katie’s sake. You’re all she’s got.’
Annie felt a lump in her throat, and swallowed hard, her eyes filling. ‘I know,’ she said. And I will. Just two more weekends. I promised Patrick yesterday.’
‘You promised me, but it didn’t stop you doing it again,’ her oldest and dearest friend said drily.
‘Not this time. This time I will stop,’ she promised, and Sally leant over and hugged her.
‘I love you. You’re so gutsy—I don’t know how you do it. I’m really proud of you. I’d crumble.’
‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Annie assured her, squashing the urge to cry again. ‘You’d get on with it, just like I do, because you don’t have a choice.’
‘What are you doing on Friday night?’
She blinked at the abrupt change of subject, and shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Nothing, as usual, I expect.’
‘Come for supper. I’ve got the Whittakers and the Maguires coming, too, and the kids’ll have a great time. Let me pick up Katie from school and take her home with mine. She can stay over, and we’ll eat later without them and then Patrick can drive you home and you can have a night on your own and a nice decadent lie-in.’
She opened her mouth to protest, took one look at Sally’s face and shut it again. What on earth had he been saying?
‘What makes you think I want a night alone with Patrick?’ she asked, trying not to blush, and Sally l
aughed victoriously.
‘I didn’t actually say anything about Patrick. I just said you could have a night on your own and a nice decadent lie-in. And before you go blaming the poor man for anything else, he hasn’t said a word.’
‘Neither have I.’
‘No, you don’t need to. It’s written all over you.’
‘When?’ she asked indignantly.
‘How about every time his name’s mentioned?’ Sally said. ‘And for the record, I’m really pleased for you.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she tried, but Sally saw straight through it and waved her protest aside.
‘Of course you do. And there’s no way you can hide it. You just go kind of soppy when you’re thinking about him.’
‘Soppy?’ Annie said in disgust, and Sally shrugged.
‘Moonstruck?’
‘Worse. Try again.’
‘In love, then,’ Sally suggested more softly, and it hit Annie like an express train.
Dear God. She loved him. How... ?
‘Don’t tell me you hadn’t realised?’
She gazed at Sally, horrified. ‘I can’t...’
‘Why ever not? He’s lovely.’
That was what Mrs Dickinson had called him. Your lovely Mr Corrigan.
Her lovely Mr Corrigan.
‘But...Sally, my life’s a mess...’
‘Ideal timing, I’d say. Just what you need, a bit of love and attention lavished on you. And he’s just the man to do it.’ She stood up. ‘So I’ll get Katie on Friday and you and Patrick can join us at seven-thirty.’
‘He might not be free—’
‘Oh, he’s free. I’ve already asked him—and the Whittakers and the Maguires. It’s all arranged,’ Sally said breezily, and with a little wave of her fingers, she left Annie to finish her coffee, torn between anger at Patrick for squealing on her and the amazing realisation that she was in love.
* * *
‘I think we need some ground rules.’
Patrick stared at her, astonished at the sudden change from the previous night.
‘About?’ he said cautiously.
‘Discussing me with other people.’
‘Ah. You’ve spoken to Sally.’ He felt a twinge of guilt, but squashed it fast.
‘Why did you tell her about the agency work? She’s giving me grief—again.’
He sighed and rammed a hand through his hair. Damn. He’d known this would get him into trouble, but he’d wanted Sally’s view on it, in case he was getting it all out of proportion.
And now Annie was livid.
‘I was worried about you. I know she cares a great deal about you. I wanted her take on it.’
‘Well, I didn’t. I’ve had it before, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not doing this from choice,’ she bit out, her voice low but no less expressive for that. ‘And I’m not sure I like having my social life engineered either.’
Now he was genuinely puzzled. ‘How—?’
‘Friday night?’ she prompted.
‘Now, hang on here,’ he said, raising a warning finger. ‘Before you start accusing me of anything, Sally asked me if I was doing anything. Me. You weren’t mentioned. She said she was thinking of having a few friends round some time and wondered if I was free this Friday evening. I said I thought I was. Your name didn’t come up at all, so don’t start accusing me of engineering your social life. I think it’s Sally you need to take that one up with.’
‘I already have. Many times.’ She tipped her head, nibbling her lip. ‘So did you tell her about us?’
‘Us?’
‘That we’re...’ She floundered to a halt, clearly not knowing how to describe their relationship, so he helped her out.
‘That we’re seeing each other? That we keep stealing kisses? That we spent Thursday night together—the most amazing night, by the way—and that given a choice I’d be sleeping with you every night? No, of course I didn’t. It’s none of her business, unless you choose to make it so. I wouldn’t dream of discussing our private life with anyone.’
She softened in front of his eyes. ‘She said you didn’t.’
‘So you did, then?’ he said, trying to read her expression and failing completely, mainly because it was changing from second to second with every new thought.
‘No. She just guessed. She knows me very well. And I’m sorry.’
He frowned, and she added, ‘That I ripped your head off. I should have recognised Sally’s work when I saw it. It’s not the first time.’
He smiled wryly, glanced around and ushered her into the empty treatment room behind her. He flicked the blind shut, pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. ‘Friends again?’
‘We were never not friends, were we?’
‘I hope not. I’m sorry I squealed on you.’
‘Oh, I’ll forgive you—this once,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’
He smiled, and she smiled back, her eyes soft and warm, then she blushed and said, ‘Was it really?’
‘Was what really what?’
‘Thursday—the most amazing night?’
Heat ripped through him, and he pulled her back into his arms and slid his hands down, cupping her bottom and pulling her firmly up against him. ‘Oh, yes,’ he murmured.
‘Absolutely. At least, it was for me. And Friday seems a long way away.’
‘I don’t get Katie until six-thirty tomorrow.’
He couldn’t stop the groan, and she smiled a satisfied little smile, like a cat that had got the cream, and flicked the blind open again.
‘Hold that thought,’ she said, and opening the door, she went out, still smiling.
‘I’m really looking forward to this,’ Patrick said when he picked Annie up on Friday evening.
She stopped fiddling with her handbag and turned to look at him in surprise. He’d sounded so.. .excited? ‘Are you?’
‘Mmm. It’s the first time I’ve gone out for dinner with friends for years. You may have to remind me how to hold my cutlery.’
She laughed and zipped up her bag. ‘I doubt it—but you may hold out your hand and demand a scalpel when you want to cut something.’
‘Very likely,’ he said, chuckling. He drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly, then held her at arm’s length, ran his eyes over her and smiled. ‘You look lovely, by the way. Altogether too beautiful for my peace of mind. I may disgrace myself.’
She laughed and kissed him again. ‘I’m sure you won’t. Come on, let’s go before we get sidetracked, or we’ll never hear the end of it.’
The Maguires were late, arriving with their six-month-old baby still grizzling gently in Ben’s arms.
‘She’s teething, and she doesn’t want to know me at the moment,’ Meg explained. ‘Not that the paediatric pain specialist seems to be able to do anything for her. I don’t know why I pay him, really.’
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘It couldn’t be anything to do with my ’ irresistible charm?’
‘No—but it might be your sexy backside,’ she retorted, making them all laugh. ‘I’m sorry if she’s going to drive you all mad. You can always throw us out.’
But Sally and David had two children, the Whittakers had six and Annie would happily have had more, so they were all sympathetic. And far from minding or feeling left out, Patrick offered to hold their little girl while they ate, and ended up nose to nose with her, both of them giggling.
‘I think I’m in love,’ Patrick said to the baby, and she giggled and grabbed his cheeks.
‘Well, we’ll know where to come for a babysitter in future,’ Ben said with a grin, and took advantage of the respite to finish his meal before it was stone cold.
The giggles didn’t last long, of course, before little Amy wanted to go back to her father, but it gave Annie such a huge lump in her throat she could hardly eat. And the food was gorgeous, so she was quite glad when he handed the baby back and she could concentrate on it again!
But he had looked so natural with the baby...
‘Annie—roulade or pavlova?’
‘Oh, I can’t decide—both?’ she said with a smile, and Patrick tried to concentrate on the conversation instead of watching her eat.
And once he could keep his mind on it, it was interesting. Very interesting. The Maguires were not only expecting another baby, but they were doing up their house, with Fliss as advisor and part-time project manager.
‘She’s not really project manager, but if we let her call herself that, she feels happy,’ Meg teased. ‘She’s got withdrawal from her property developing.’
Fliss laughed. ‘I wish! There are still bits of our house that need attention, and with six children to keep under control I think it’s going to take for ever, but we’re getting there. And anyway, I like to keep my hand in.’
‘I thought you were a nurse?’ Patrick said, and everybody laughed.
‘She is. She’s also been a property developer and she’s a fantastic mother. I don’t know quite what I’ve done to deserve her,’ Tom said with a quiet sincerity that made Patrick swallow.
‘You two are sickening,’ Sally said with a laugh that seemed a little over-bright, and Patrick studied her discreetly. Interesting. David had hardly said a word, and Sally seemed to be holding herself together. Why? She wasn’t like this at work. Wasn’t she comfortable with them in her home?
Or was it David who wasn’t comfortable about the dinner, and giving her grief over arranging it?
He didn’t know, and it wasn’t really his business, but there was something about it that worried him. And Annie, too, he realised, flicking her a glance. She was frowning slightly, her eyes on her friend, and he knew she’d also spotted something.
‘So, Patrick, I gather you’re a real asset to the hospital rugby team,’ Tom said, and he turned his attention back to the others.
‘Well, I don’t know about that.’
‘No? So what’s this I hear about you being a former rugby international?’
‘What? You didn’t tell me that!’ Annie said, swatting him with her napkin, and he gave her a rueful grin and shrugged.
‘It didn’t seem important.’
‘I think the captain sees it a little differently. Ireland, wasn’t it?’ Ben put in.
A Wife and Child to Cherish (Audley Memorial Hospital) Page 11