So, yeah, one way and another, he was very far from fine.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shrugged away from the doorframe, stepping back into the hall to let her in. ‘I was tired. And, yes, OK, I was—uh—I was a bit emotional. It was just holding it, you know? Knowing Grace was in there.’
She nodded. ‘I know.’ Her smile faltered, and she sucked in a breath and looked around, then blinked. ‘Oh—wow! What happened to the pink?’
He laughed. ‘Three coats of white paint happened to it.’
‘Three? Already? What are you, Superman?’
‘It’s been a nice breezy day and I’ve had all the windows open so the paint’s dried quickly and it really doesn’t take that long. I’ve done the sitting room, as well. Have a look.’
He pushed the door open and followed her in, and she gasped.
‘Oh! It looks so much bigger. And brighter.’
He chuckled. ‘That wouldn’t be hard. Cup of tea?’
‘That would be lovely. I haven’t had a lot to drink today. I’ve brought scruffy clothes.’
He frowned at her. ‘You’ve been working all day.’
‘So? It was the sensible Friday shift. The late shift won’t have it so easy.’
He headed for the kitchen. ‘Tea or coffee? I bought a kettle and some mugs and stuff.’
‘Tea, please.’
He felt her watching him dunking tea bags, pouring milk, his hands covered in paint. There was some in his hair, too, he’d noticed. He was going to have to do some serious scrubbing to get it off by Monday.
‘So how was work?’ he asked, handing her the mug. ‘Anything interesting?’
‘Not really, a few sporting and gardening injuries, the odd fall, but nothing nasty, just busy.’
He thought of his average day with MFA and laughed. ‘I’ll take that.’
‘I guessed you would. Bit of a change from what you’ve been doing.’
‘Yeah.’ He put away the memories and conjured up a smile. ‘Here—let’s go in the garden. I found a bench. It’s a bit wobbly, but it should be OK if we sit down carefully.’
* * *
He scooped up a packet of biscuits and she followed him through the dining room and the tired conservatory into the garden.
She eyed the bench dubiously as it creaked under his weight. ‘I think I’ll sit here,’ she said, taking a biscuit and perching on the edge of the steps that led up to the garden from the patio. Well, patio was a bit of a stretch. Some uneven crazy paving, but it was somewhere to put a table and chairs.
‘It’s a pretty garden.’
He snorted, but she stuck to her guns. ‘It is! Look at the perennials in the border.’
‘I see them. I also see the weeds, and the foot-high grass, and the fence that’s making a bid for freedom. I don’t think this place has had any maintenance in living memory but hey, it’ll give me something to do in my time off. That’ll be a bit of a luxury.’
‘Time off?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, you don’t get a lot of that in the field. You only do three months at a time, but it’s pretty full on.’ He fell silent, his thoughts obviously miles away, and she wondered what he was seeing. Probably just as well not to know.
‘Here, have another biscuit before I eat them all.’
He got up to hand her the packet, and as he pushed himself up the bench creaked again and slid over sideways into a heap.
She laughed. She tried not to, but his face was a picture and she dissolved into giggles.
‘How is that funny?’ he asked, but his lips were twitching and seconds later he was sitting beside her on the steps, clutching his stomach and laughing just as helplessly as her.
‘Maybe you need to invest in some new garden furniture,’ she suggested when she could speak again, and he nodded.
‘Maybe. Or I can sit here and study the windows. They really need replacing.’
‘Buy a new bench. It’s cheaper than the windows and you don’t own the house.’
‘No, I don’t. Not yet.’
Yet? She turned and met his eyes.
‘Yet?’
‘It’s possibly for sale.’
‘But—you’re a locum! Why would you buy it?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t, unless I was going to be living here long term.’ He paused, looked away, then looked back, his eyes searching hers. ‘I think I want to apply for the permanent job.’
She wasn’t expecting that, not so soon, not before he’d even started work there, but realistically what was there to know? He’d met James and a few of the others, he knew her, he knew he loved the town—what more was there?
Nothing—except her, and her feelings, and if he’d asked her what they were she’d be hard pushed to tell him, because after seeing him with Grace’s heart last night they were even more confused. She looked away.
‘I’d give it a few days before you decide. You might hate it.’
‘Unlikely, and I can always withdraw my application if I want to.’
‘Withdraw it?’ She laughed. ‘You seriously think James wouldn’t talk you out of doing that?’
‘I know he wouldn’t. Not if I don’t want to be talked out of it. If you don’t want me here, Beth, I’ll go, no matter how much James wants me to stay.’
She searched his eyes, read the sincerity in them, the concern for her welfare. And then she thought of the little silver heart that had fitted so perfectly in the palm of his hand...
She wanted him to stay.
It was the last thing she’d expected to feel and she had no idea where it had come from, but it hit like a lightning bolt, and she sucked in a breath and got to her feet.
‘Let’s just see,’ she said, tipping out the dregs of her tea onto the weedy grass behind her. ‘So—what’s next?’
‘My bedroom. I’m picking up my clothes and other stuff from my mother’s on Sunday, and I can borrow her airbed.’
‘Airbed?’ She turned and stared at him. ‘Ry, there’s no hurry. You can stay with me as long as you want.’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve put you out quite enough, Beth. I’ll stay tonight and tomorrow, but then I’ll be here.’
‘But—you’ve got no furniture. It’s a bit basic,’ she murmured, but he just laughed.
‘Basic? Having a roof is a luxury in some of the places I’ve been. Trust me, this is a palace. I’ve got a new bed and sofa coming on Monday evening. I’ll be fine.’
‘If you say so.’ She shrugged, not quite believing him, and headed back into the house, wondering if she should feel hurt that he didn’t want to stay, and telling herself not to be stupid. He’d always been independent and she wasn’t going to change him. ‘How about I get stuck in and clean the rest while you do the bedroom, then?’
* * *
They stopped at eight because the light was failing and they were both tired, but his bedroom was painted and the kitchen, cloakroom and both bathrooms were gleaming and she’d started on the windows.
He waited till she’d finished the pane she was working on, then took the cloth out of her hand. ‘Come on, it’s late, and you’re working tomorrow. Why don’t we pick up a takeaway?’
She gave him a tired smile. ‘That sounds great. How does the bedroom look?’
‘Bigger, and it’s got that amazing view.’
‘Just as well, as you don’t have any curtains. Right, come on, we’ve got another long day tomorrow.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I feel like I’m taking advantage of your good nature.’
‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t happy.’
He wasn’t sure about that. Beth had a heart of gold, a heart that he’d broken, even if only indirectly, by not making sure she couldn’t get pregnant.
‘You’re a star,’ he said, echoing James, and sh
e shook her head.
‘No, Ryan, I’m a friend,’ she said simply, and her words brought a lump to his throat because while it was true, in a strange way she meant so much more than that to him and he didn’t have the words to say so.
He didn’t even think there was a word for what they were to each other, he just knew she was an indelible part of his life and always would be.
* * *
By the end of Saturday the place was transformed.
Once the paint was dry he’d pulled up the carpet in the sitting room, dining room and hall, and together they mopped and polished the wood block floor and stood back to admire it.
‘Wow. You were right, Beth, it is gorgeous. Stunning.’
‘I thought it would be. How about pots and pans and things, if you insist on moving in so quickly? And bedroom curtains, come to that.’
‘Oh, I’m sure Mum’s got some I can borrow. I don’t need much for the kitchen, and there’s a box in the pantry. There might be something in there worth salvaging.’
They went and had a look, and the answer was a maybe.
‘I’ll take the box home, sort through it and put anything worth having through my dishwasher and bring it back tomorrow, if you give me a key,’ she said, so he loaded it into her car, locked the house and went back to hers for the third and final night.
Not that he’d have a real bed until Monday, but as he’d said, a roof was more than he’d had at times, and he’d be fine—and maybe better than fine. He might even sleep if she wasn’t lying there in the next room, just on the other side of the wall...
* * *
‘Morning!’
Beth turned and met his eyes with a smile, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice.
‘Morning. All ready for your first shift?’
‘Yes, absolutely. It’ll make a refreshing change from painting. That’s just mind-numbing.’
She felt her mouth twitch and bit her lip. ‘Be careful what you wish for. Did you get on OK yesterday? And did you sleep last night?’
He laughed softly and propped himself up against the central desk. ‘Like a log, but I’m looking forward to my new bed. I’m all done with sleeping bags.’
‘You could have stayed at mine again,’ she reminded him.
‘I know, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome and I know you well enough to realise you wouldn’t tell me if I had. Thanks for the card and the house plant. The place looks almost civilised in a rather empty way.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she murmured. ‘I thought it needed cheering up a bit. I put the kitchen stuff in the pantry, too. It might come in handy. Here—your spare key. And talking of keys, has anyone given you a locker or anything?’
He slid the key into his pocket. ‘No, and I could do with some scrubs, if you could point me in the right direction?’
She nodded, and spent the next ten minutes sorting him out. ‘Right, is that everything you need?’
‘Pretty much. Thank you. I’d better go and find James.’
‘He’s in Resus.’
He nodded, and she went back to work and left him to find his feet, but it wasn’t long before they were in Resus together, working on a patient who’d been brought in after being knocked off his motorbike by a driver who hadn’t seen him.
His left leg had an open fracture and the paramedics has splinted it, but it didn’t look good and he was clearly in a lot of pain and his blood pressure was low.
‘Right, someone cut his clothes off so we can have a good look please,’ Ryan said swiftly. ‘Can I have the FAST scanner, and a gram of TXA in an infusion, and I want X-rays of the skull and that leg. Leave the collar and helmet on for now. Hi, I’m Ryan, and I’m a doctor. Can you tell me what happened, Jim?’
While he spoke to Jim and the radiographer took the X-rays, Beth set up the tranexamic acid infusion to slow the bleeding while Ryan’s gentle fingers checked the man’s ribs, abdomen and pelvis.
His leg was tinged blue below the fracture, and Beth checked the pulses in his foot.
‘No pedal pulse,’ she told Ryan, and he nodded.
‘OK. Jim, there’s a problem with the blood supply to your foot, so I’m going to have to pull your leg straight to sort that out. I’m sorry, it’s going to hurt for a moment but it should feel better afterwards. OK, are you ready, Beth? On three.’
He pulled it straight, checked the pulse and then left her to deal with splinting it while he went back to the abdomen, a frown on his face as he ran the ultrasound wand below the man’s ribs.
‘There’s a shadow. I think he might have an encapsulated bleed.’
‘Spleen?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Left kidney, maybe. There’s a lot of bruising on this side, so I suspect a blunt force injury. Give him another gram of TXA as a bolus and let’s get an X-ray of these ribs, and can we catheterise him, please, and check the urine for blood?’
She was already on it, and it proved his diagnosis right. The blood was obvious, and their patient was starting to deteriorate, so he was whisked away to Interventional Radiology for embolisation of the bleeding vessels before the orthopaedic surgeon could deal with his leg fracture.
They watched him go, and Ryan shook his head, a slightly bemused expression on his face as he stripped off his gloves and apron and headed for the sink.
‘It feels odd not to finish the job. I would have had to deal with both of those injuries in the field, but at least we got the pulse back to his foot and he hasn’t got a skull fracture, so it’s all good.’
‘You almost sound as if you wanted to do it all yourself,’ she said, but he laughed and shook his head.
‘No way. I’m happy to hand him over. I’ve had enough of juggling too many balls. They get dropped, and anyway, it’s nice to have time for coffee occasionally. And that’ll teach me to say the c word,’ he said, and she looked up and saw the next patient already being wheeled in.
It set the tone of the day, one case piling on top of another, but he worked fast and thoroughly, and it was a joy to her to be working alongside him again. It gave her a chance to study him, to remember all the little things she’d forgotten, like the way he frowned when he was concentrating, the way his brow cleared the second it was all under control, the quirk of a brow, the brief nod when he was happy with something.
‘Right, go for lunch, both of you,’ James said, and she realised it was after two. She’d been working alongside him since before eight, and they hadn’t stopped for breath.
‘Sandwich and a coffee?’ she suggested, and he nodded.
‘That would be great. I’m starving. Breakfast was a long, long time ago.’
But yet again it wasn’t to be. Another patient came through the doors, one of three from a nasty RTC, but Jenny, her line manager, came in and relieved her, so she went to the café and picked up lunch for both of them and he ate his in a snatched quiet moment a while later, washed down by the now tepid coffee she’d brought back for him.
‘I can see why I was needed,’ he said with a wry laugh.
‘Oh, you’re certainly needed. Still think it’s better than painting your house?’
His chuckle was dry and a little rueful. ‘It’s certainly more mentally challenging.’
‘Oh, well, you’ve only got another three hours to go. What time’s your furniture being delivered?’
‘I said not before six, and I can’t see me getting away before then so hopefully it’ll be eight or something. Whatever. They said they’d let me know. Right, I’d better go back and reassess my patient. I’ll see you later.’
* * *
Not much later, as it turned out.
He was in Resus with another emergency, gloved up and trying to assess a nasty scalp wound with an arterial bleed when his phone jiggled in his pocket.
‘Could someone get my phone, please?’ he ask
ed, and one of the nurses delved in his scrub top pocket and held it up to him.
Damn. He stared at it and groaned. ‘Can someone find Beth, please, if she’s still here? I need to ask her a favour.’
‘I think she is,’ Jenny said. ‘Although she shouldn’t be.’
‘No, I know that, but I saw her walk past ten minutes ago so she might still be around.’
The nurse who’d delved in his pocket came back with Beth a moment later, and she tipped her head on one side.
‘Problem?’
‘Just a bit. I need another favour. I’ve had a message from the delivery team. They’ve said they’ll be there at five and there’s no way I can leave before six and if it goes on like this I won’t get away then. Is there any way you could let them in?’
‘Sure. I should have gone off an hour ago anyway.’
‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘I keep asking you favours—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She held out her hand. ‘Key?’
Damn. It was still where he’d put it a few hours ago.
‘Right trouser pocket.’
Their eyes locked, and she looked hastily away and squirmed her hand under his plastic apron and into his pocket, groping for the keys while he tried really, really hard to keep his mind in check.
Not to mention his body—
‘These them?’
‘No. The loose one, the one you gave me back,’ he said, and gritted his teeth again while she went back in and rummaged again, then returned the others.
‘Do you want me to check everything’s OK?’
‘No. Just let them in, sign for it as unchecked, that’s all. Well, unless it’s obviously trashed in transit.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Thank you, Beth. I owe you, big-time.’
‘You do. Don’t worry, I’m keeping a tab.’
He grunted, and she gave him a cheeky grin and left him to the spurting artery and his mounting guilt.
She’d spent days helping him, and now she was heading back to his house, waiting in for the furniture. And he was clock-watching, dividing his guilt between his new job and his old friend.
From Heartache to Forever Page 3