She had no idea where they were going. She’d never been to Rathcoole and as for the rehabilitation centre… She’d meant to trawl the Internet, but she’d been on a long day yesterday and all she’d been fit for when she’d reached home was a shower and bed. She sat back on the now familiar leather seat and closed her eyes. He’d called her pretty. He’d called her more than pretty, she remembered on a blush. Of course he didn’t mean it. It was the sort of off-hand remark any man would make in a similar position, but all the same it was a compliment, and she hadn’t had so many of those in the past not to treasure it to herself like…..
‘Alright? You’re very quiet?’
‘Just thinking about stuff. It’s been a busy weekend.’
He moved his hand to change gear.’ What, you and Sorcha painting the town red again?’
‘As if! I’ve been working my butt off all weekend.’
She saw him glance down at her leggings briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.
‘It’s a very nice butt.’ He said on a smile.
‘Mitch! Keep your eyes on the road, or we’ll be ending up travelling to Rathcoole by ambulance.’
‘Don’t you trust my driving?’ He paused to overtake a lorry. ‘I’ll have you know I’ve never had an accident.’
‘There’s always a first time.’ She shifted in her seat to look at the countryside streaming past her window.
‘Nearly there.’ He said, placing his hand on her knee. ‘So what are you up to later then, fancy trying again for that meal?’
‘Well I was planning on washing my hair.’
‘Oh, so that’ll take like five hours then?’
‘What?’ She looked across, confusion written all over her face. ‘More like five minutes.’
‘He chuckled softly. ‘I thought you were giving me the brush off?’
As if I get enough invites to be choosy!
‘If I was giving you the brush off you’d know about it.’
He chuckled louder this time. ‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll pick you up at seven.’ He added, pulling into a parking space across from the centre and reaching across her seat to open her door.
‘Mitch.’ She placed her hand on his arm, causing him to turn and look at her, their faces only centimetres apart. ‘Nowhere too posh, I don’t have any clothes.’
He reached up his hand and gently curved it around her face. ‘Jeans, legging or…’ He paused briefly, ‘Winnie the Pooh – it’s all the same to me. You look beautiful in whatever you’re wearing, even your scrubs.’
They were met at the door by a pretty blond with a ruler straight fringe and bright smile to match.
‘Ah, Good Morning Deirdre. Is John in his office?
‘Morning Prof, he sure is. I’d be quick about it though – he’s been in there for ten minutes with a box from Thunders!’
‘Ah, that’s an emergency of unprecedented dimensions,’ he said on a laugh. ‘Here, you look after the nurse I promised you while I go and rescue you a Danish – that is unless I’m too late.’ He added, placing a brief hand in the small of her back and propelling her forward. ‘Liddy, meet Deirdre Ryan, Unit manager. She’ll show you the ropes, while I go and stop John killing himself with cholesterol.’
Liddy found herself being led into the staff coffee room.
‘As you can see everything’s a bit informal here.’ Said Deirdre, handing her a steaming cuppa. ‘It’s best for the residents to be as relaxed as possible - living here 24/7 is akin to the French Foreign Legion and boot camp rolled into one.’ She lifted up a large box from the table. ‘Here, help yourself - we take it in turns to buy cakes on a Monday, it always manages to make them feel less ‘Mondayish’, if you know what I mean.’
‘I thought….?’ Liddy started, dipping her hand in to pull out a chocolate monstrosity.’
‘Shush.’ She placed a finger against her lips. ‘We buy two boxes, otherwise the nurses would never get a look in – Mitch and John can demolish a box single handed although, the way they both work who can blame them!’
‘Really?’ She bit into the donut and closed her eyes, her taste buds exploding with the blistering intensity that only chocolate could achieve.
‘They set this up from scratch you know. They’d the idea in Uni when they lost one of their friends in a motorcycle accident. Up until then Mitch was on track to go into Paediatrics, but as he says himself “he saw the light” before it was too late.’
Liddy stored this little nugget of information to herself with a quiet smile, even as she wondered who had died. It must have been someone special to make him change course mid-stream.
‘We can take twelve residents at any one time.’ Deirdre continued. ‘Everything’s timetable driven so you’ll find that they each follow an individual programme that John, with the help of the rest of the neuro rehab team devise.’
‘You don’t call them patients’?’
‘No, they’re not ill as such – just temporally disabled for want of a better term.’ She stood up to brush the crumbs from her navy joggers, ‘the emphasise of course being on the word temporary. The clients are chosen very carefully as the program isn’t suitable for everyone – we have a zero drop out and a ninety percent success rate.’
Liddy stared at her open mouthed, even as she struggled to come up with something half intelligent to say. She’d had a talk on statistics in healthcare only a couple of weeks ago and figures like that were unheard of.
‘So how do you measure their success then?’
‘Good question, I was wondering why Mitch was so keen on getting you here.’ Deirdre perched on the edge of her chair. ’That’s the easiest question of all, but often the most difficult to achieve. Success is when a resident returns to their previous life with no outward assistance, except perhaps some additional metal work like the odd false arm or leg.’ She pulled a wry smile. ‘Sometimes a heavy ask as we take people from all walks of life, including the armed forces! Come on, I’ll introduce you and show you where you can pop your bag.’ She looked across at her leggings and dark top. ‘There’s no need to get changed – wearing scrubs will only bring back unhappy memories for them. Most of them have spent months in acute facilities – in comparison this is a walk in the park.’
They made their way down the corridor to enter the bright recreational area. Liddy only threw a passing glance at the large comfy sofa before focusing her attention on the assortment of men and women scattered around the tables.
‘Morning Deirdre, how’s it going?’ The man approaching them was hobbling along on crutches, the effort to even put one foot in front of the other clearly showing on his face.
‘Hey, Matty – just look at you! If you carry on we’ll have to introduce a speed limit.’ She tilted her head. ‘This is Liddy; she’s working at the acute unit at St Justin’s. Mitch thought it would be a good idea if she dropped by to check you out.’
‘She can check me out any day,’ came a shout from a burly red haired man speeding towards them in an electric wheelchair.
‘Just ignore him.’ she said on a sigh. ‘Aaron, be nice, or I won’t give you that massage I’ve scheduled you for.’
‘Promises, promises.’ He turned to face Liddy, offering his hand with a smile. ‘You’re very welcome to come and visit, we like a pretty face – don’t we boys?’ He started to wriggle around in his chair before catching her eye. ‘You wouldn’t do me a big favour and scratch my big toe would you?’
‘Sure.’ She started to kneel on the floor in front of the wheelchair, only to pause at the guffaws of laughter coming from every possible corner. But turning away from the noise to concentrate on the leg thrust out in front of her was the wrong thing to do. There was no leg, only a robotic metal stick topped off by a bright green Reebok.
‘Very funny boys.’ Deirdre placed a caring hand on her shoulders. ‘Just ignore them hun. They’ve all been here way too long. Come on, I’ll give you a guided tour and then - what about watching Simon, our resident physio put
Aaron through his paces? I’ll make sure he has a really easy session just for your benefit – not!’
The day flew by. Before she knew it the big hand had ticked its way around to four. She sat, rucksack by her feet mulling over the intensity of Aaron’s physio session. She’d never been one for the gym, but she’d certainly had her eyes opened wide to the quality and quantity of the equipment that she now knew Mitch and John had subsidised. There were weights, pulleys, walking frames and parallel bars not to mention the hydro pool – and Simon and Deirdre ensured Aaron used most of it! She’d discovered he’d lost both his legs following a motorcycle accident, but that hadn’t diminished him. He still planned to go back to his studies and to his girlfriend waiting silently in the wings. He was even planning to take up sky diving and possibly scuba diving, if they could guarantee that he wouldn’t rust!
She could have cried, but she didn’t – not when he spent most of the time asking her out on a date. He even suggested nipping across to the pub opposite for a few jars at lunchtime, being as there was little fun in being the only one legless in the building.
Lunch had been late and then only a quickly grabbed sandwich as she’d spent most of the time chatting to Adele, a cute nineteen year old recovering from Guillain Barre. Having lost the use of both arms and legs it was Liddy’s role to help her with her meal. But they didn’t talk about her illness, far from it. Adele was more interested in Simon, and whether she’d be in with a chance.
She suddenly felt the bench beside her shift and looking across found herself catching Mitch’s intent eyes. She knew she didn’t look her best with hair escaping all around her, but that was no reason for him to stare so.
‘You’re coming apart!’ Reaching up he tucked a curl behind her ear. Was it her imagination or did his hand linger a second too long against her cheek? ‘Had a good day?’
‘Fantastic. I’ve had two offers of marriage and one that didn’t include marriage – just all the perks that go with it!’ She watched him burst out laughing; the tired lines etched around his eyes crinkling up and somehow making him look younger.
‘Let me guess - Matty and Padric for the marriage proposals and.’ He placed his fingers between his eyes in mock thought. ‘Aaron for the dirty weekend.’
‘However did you know?’
‘It’s a lads’ thing.’ He leant back against the bench as if he’d all day to just sit there chatting. ‘So which one have you opted for?’
Her eyes started to twinkle. ‘None, sadly. I’d already made plans to go out to dinner and I didn’t like to break my promise…..’
He leaned into her to whisper in her ear, ‘I’ll give you “Sadly,” indeed!’
She felt his closeness, she felt his breath tickling the side of her face and she smelt the subtle scent of his aftershave - but she could only think of one thing - kiss me.
Blue eyes met green and all around melted to nothing.
How long is a moment – a second, a heartbeat, a minute, a lifetime? Not a word was said. There were no words - there were no more thoughts, only feelings and warmth as Mitch’s hands moved to cradle her face. As if in slow motion he dipped his head towards her gently parting lips and her heart went into overdrive waiting for this their first kiss - their first kiss that wasn’t just a brotherly peck. Their first kiss that wasn’t instigated by her damp course investigations…..There was complete silence in that moment of waiting. There was complete stillness on the hard cold bench. There was only Mitch and Liddy and…… the sound of a shrill beeping as Mitch’s pager screamed into action.
‘Bloody hell!’ He threw her a brief smile of apology, before scrabbling to his feet and searching for the still squealing device. ‘Sorry, I’m on call so….’ He turned his back and strolled to the corner of the room while he started tapping numbers into his mobile.
Liddy sat and watched his expression change from apologetic to concerned and knew she’d have to find her own way home. Whatever else had happened between them just now the man hurrying back was all Professor.
‘There’s been a knifing.’ His eyes met hers briefly before reaching down and grabbing her rucksack. ‘Come on, I’ll drop you off on the way.’ He caught hold of her hand and all but dragged her to the car.
Throwing his mobile in her lap he started the engine and pulled out into the traffic. ‘Can you phone Simone, my new registrar – her number’s somewhere there. Tell her to meet me at the hospital ASAP.’ He reached out and patted her knee. ‘Sorry, I’m going to have to take a rain check on supper – one of the hazards of dating a doctor I’m afraid.’
Liddy’s hand paused briefly mid dial. She couldn’t prevent a small smile pull at her lips at his words, but she’d have to think about them later. Now she had to reply to the husky voice crooning on the other end of the phone. ‘Hello Prof, changed your mind about coming around for cocktails later?’
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday couldn’t come around fast enough for Liddy. She’d spent most of the night alternating between compassion for Mitch at having to spend God only knew how long patching up some poor old soul, to a fearsome jealousy that scared her beyond belief. She’d never thought of herself as the jealous type. Even when her dad had left them jealousy had never come into it. Disbelief; yes, anger; certainly, but never one shred of jealousy. If he wanted to be with someone other than her and her mam, that was his loss.
But now all she could focus on was Simone. She didn’t even have a face to go with the name – only the voice, but the voice was bad enough! A voice that sounded like honeyed cream, tinkling over a bed of ice cubes was bound to have a body to match. They all had a body to match, she thought scathingly, stuffing her belongings into her locker and slamming the door. They all had bodies to match with velvety skin topped off with long sun kissed hair - all nicely parcelled up in a size 8 with a flipping bow on top.
She tugged ruthlessly at her scrubs in an effort to make them more….. More what? More sexy? More comfortable? Or just simply more of? Instead of the nice grown up dinner she’d expected she’d ended up pigging out on chocolate ice-cream yet again, so it was a diet day today unless she wanted to go to the office in her break to beg for the next size up.
She was of course keeping her mind busy in an effort to keep her mind from focusing on his comment in the car. She couldn’t help thinking about it, even though she’d pretty much convinced herself he hadn’t meant anything by the words. Giving someone a couple of lifts wasn’t anything to shout about from the rooftops. Surely she’d have known if they were dating? It wasn’t rocket science after all and she’d seen enough of relationships to know that what she had with Mitch wasn’t dating. At least that’s what she’d been telling herself all night – what she’d been hoping; well that was different. Hope lived in that dark secret pocket of her mind, which she daren’t visit for fear of getting tangled up within the cobwebs of disappointment residing there.
There was an upside though she thought, hurrying up the last flight of steps. At least she’d see him on duty, the downside being she’d be able to see first-hand what ‘The Voice’ looked like. He’d probably be in early to check on his patient and didn’t they all have their registrars in tow? One glance and she’d know.
Yet pushing the door of the unit she paused, her mind going a complete blank at the sight that greeted her. She blinked, but the image was still there - the image of Sister Slater’s broad smile splitting her face into a myriad of wrinkles. She turned to glance behind her, but no – there was no one. The smile was intended for her and her alone.
‘Hello Lovely, I hope you enjoyed your little jaunt to Rathcoole?’ She indicated for her to follow her into the office. ‘You can tell me all about it later. I’ll give you a quick report and then I’d like you to special Mr Peters in room two. He was transferred early this morning following a stabbing.’ She pushed his notes across the table. ‘I’ve arranged for you to have next weekend off before your final stint on night duty and,’ she looked up with a smile. ‘I’ve
told Matron that I’d be very happy to welcome you back anytime.’
The morning passed in a flash, full of the tiny mundane but necessary tasks required to ensure Gary Peter’s condition remained stable. Just like Bridie his head was swathed in bandages, but that’s where any comparison ended. In his case there was no sign as yet of the diffuse cerebral bleed that had led to all of her problems and eventual death. Gary, a nice curly haired eighteen year old had been walking home in the small hours from the nightclub he worked at when he’d been mugged and left for dead in the centre of Rathmines. If it wasn’t for the early morning bin men bundling him across the seats of their cabin to St Justin’s he’d be dead. Even now the grapevine was teaming with news of their new ambulance, where speed and hygiene were less important than just being in the right place at the right time.
She’d been relieved at eleven for a brief coffee break, but it was long enough to miss Mitch and his new registrar‘s fleeting visit. There had been no special message left for her - only a brief scrawl in the medical notes and the lingering smell of some cloyingly exotic fragrance that seemed to cling to every surface as a reminder that things would be different now.
It only took a couple of days for Gary to be sitting out of bed. Apart from the daily dressings to reduce the risk of infection, all part and parcel of a dirty knife and an even dirtier makeshift ambulance, he was nearly back to his usual self. Liddy went back to her normal routine of following her mentor and carrying out all those niggly little jobs that seemed to befall student nurses. But she didn’t mind, she had too much on her mind to be bothered with worrying about endless blood pressure monitoring and the feeding of patients. As the week ticked by into two so her mood deteriorated and her memory dulled. There were rumours aplenty going around about how Mitch had been flown out to Beijing to consult on a patient and his new sexy registrar was conspicuous by her absence - the presumption, of course being they’d gone together.
Ideal Girl (Irish Girl, Hospital Romance 1) Page 10