Caroline Anderson - Risk of a Lifetime

‘Oh. Hi.’ She smiled apologetically at him. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. What can I do for you, James?’

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing, so why don’t you take lunch now while it’s so quiet?’

‘Shh.’ She pressed her finger to her lips, and he chuckled.

‘Superstitious?’

She grinned. ‘Always. But I will grab some lunch while the going’s good. We didn’t have time yesterday, in case you’re running away with the idea that we had an idle day!’

‘No, I gather it was chaos. Sorry I had to bail on you for that meeting. How was Ed?’

Too beautiful for his own good. Or hers.

‘Good. Great. Excellent doctor.’

‘I’m glad about that. I thought he would be. His references were stunning and we were really lucky to get him. Right, off you go before that damn phone rings.’

She grinned again, saluted and went, grabbing her bag from her locker on the way, then hurried outside to go round to the café in the sunshine.

And bumped straight into Ed.

Literally.

‘Aagh!’

She leapt back, clutching at her scrub top and pulling it hastily away from her chest. ‘Sheesh, that’s hot!’ she gasped, flapping the fabric to cool it as the coffee soaked straight through and drenched her.

‘Hell, Annie, I’m sorry. Are you all right?’

He was shaking cappuccino froth off his hand, and she tilted her head and gave him a sarky look. ‘Oh, peachy—apart from being doused in scalding coffee! Why didn’t you have a lid on it?’

‘I did—you squashed it when you ran into it. I’m so sorry. Are you all right? You’re not really scalded, are you?’

She thought about it and shook her head. Her bra was sopping, and the coffee had been hot but not hot enough to damage her. She could feel it cooling down already in the light breeze.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t sue you. I’m just going to be wringing wet and a little fragrant for the rest of the day,’ she said wryly.

‘Yeah, you probably need to change.’

‘Really? I thought I’d wander round like this all day wearing cappuccino—set a new trend, you know?’

‘You don’t have to be sarcastic—’

‘I can be what I like, I’m the one soaked to the skin with it,’ she retorted, but then she gave a despairing laugh and shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, I can find myself some new scrubs. The underwear might be harder.’

‘Ah. Sorry, I can’t help you there. I don’t have my spare bra in my locker today.’

She looked up, a surprised laugh on her lips, and their eyes met and locked, the laughter dying as heat flared between them.

Why were they even talking about her underwear?

She dragged her eyes away. ‘Look, it’s fine. I’m sorry about the coffee, I’ll get you another one while I’m in the café.’

‘Forget it. I’ll get myself another one. Look, why don’t you go and change and we’ll go over there together and I’ll buy you lunch?’

‘Do you have time?’

That wasn’t what she’d meant to say! No, no, no! She should have told him it wasn’t necessary and she’d rather be alone!

Her mouth, however, didn’t seem to be under her control any more, and he cornered her with his next words.

‘I’ve got time. I wasn’t going to bother to eat, but as it’s quiet—’

‘Shush! What is it with everyone today?’

He grinned, his mouth kicking up on one side, and she felt her insides turn over.

‘Go on, hurry up, get changed and we’ll grab a sandwich and eat it in the park. Shoo.’

* * *

She must be mad.

She dabbed the coffee out of her bra—thankfully not a moulded-cup T-shirt bra but just a thin lace one—squashed it dry with paper towels, then pulled on the clean scrubs. It would dry off in time, and she didn’t have any choice.

She checked herself in the mirror, then headed back outside and found him propped against the wall of the building on his phone. He glanced at her, nodded and ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

‘Better?’

‘I’ll do.’

‘I really am sorry.’

‘As you were kind enough to point out, I ran into you—although technically I wasn’t running.’

‘Almost, but I wasn’t looking where I was going. Why don’t we call it quits?’ he said with a wry grin, and ushered her into the café. Two minutes later they were sitting outside on a bench and ripping open sandwich packets.

‘Coronation chicken or tuna?’

‘Don’t care. I just want to eat it before my pager goes off.’

He split them, handed her one of each and tore open the potato crisps, and she put their coffee down carefully on the bench between them and bit into the first sandwich.

‘So, Annie Brooks, tell me all about yourself,’ he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘All?’

He grinned. ‘Well, obviously not all. I don’t need to know when you started your periods or what grade you got for your A levels—’

‘Thirteen, and three As. You?’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘OK. Three As and a B. And I’m still waiting. My mother said it might be a while.’

It was her turn to laugh.

‘OK. I’m...single,’ she said, reluctant to use the word when it wasn’t technically true, because she was definitely in a relationship, albeit with her children. But there didn’t seem to be a box to tick for ‘was engaged to a philandering adulterer who legged it before I could tell him I was pregnant’ so it was hard to find a more appropriate word. And for some reason she didn’t want to tell him about all that.

‘I trained in London, at King’s, and then I worked in various London hospitals, and I’m thirty-six and this is my first consultancy. I work part time, job sharing with Andy, and I work four days a week. Your turn.’

‘OK. I’m thirty-two, single, I trained in Nottingham and I’ve worked in Cambridge and London. My last job was in Great Ormond Street and I’m angling for a consultancy there.’

‘Ah. Hence the Paeds.’

‘Indeed. And I’m definitely full time. With bells on. So, that’s the work thing. How about the rest? Favourite colour, music, film...’

‘OK, my favourite colour is green, I’m vegetarian, a member of Greenpeace, my favourite food is—’

‘Don’t tell me. Peas. Or spinach? Green beans?’

She couldn’t suppress the smile. ‘You guessed.’

‘I sensed a green theme going on and I know for a fact you were lying about being a vegetarian, because you’re eating a chicken sandwich.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘OK. No more prying. Although I wasn’t, really.’

She conceded the point and opened up a little. ‘Actually, my favourite colour probably is green. Look over there at the new leaves on the trees, that brilliant acid green. Isn’t that the most wonderful colour? So full of hope and promise.’

He looked, and with a soft sigh he nodded, his smile somehow sad. ‘Yes. Yes, it is,’ he said quietly. ‘So, if it’s not too personal, why are you here, in Yoxburgh?’

‘Because my family’s here,’ she said honestly but without elaboration. ‘You?’

‘Ditto,’ he said, but there was a shadow in his eyes.

There was a question, as yet unformed, poised on the tip of her tongue when their pagers both beeped.

He pulled his out, glanced at it and stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth as he sprinted for the door, leaving her to deal with the debris of their lunch.

She left their half-finished drinks. She’d had enough coffee-related incidents today without risking another one. It was only when she joined him in Resus and he glanced down at her chest and grinned that she saw the damp imprint of lace on her scrub top. And her nipples, chilly from the light breeze over the damp fabric, had peaked enthusiastically.

She arched a brow primly, covered her top with an apron and pulled on some gloves.

‘So, what have we got?’ she asked him, all efficiency.

‘This is Elizabeth. She slipped and fell over the edge of the kerb. She’s got an open tib and fib on the right and query Colles’ of the left radius and ulna. She’s stable, she’s had five of morphine on the way in and I’ve just given her another five, and she’s very coherent, aren’t you, Elizabeth?’

‘Am I? I don’t feel very coherent. That morphine’s lovely,’ she slurred.

‘Good. We’re just waiting for X-rays to confirm the fractures. Would you do me a favour, Annie, and check the pulse in that foot? I think it’s looking a bit pale.’

‘Sure.’

It was. Pale, cold and she didn’t like the look of it.

‘I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak.’

He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. The orthos are tied up in Theatre. I think it might need a little help before they’re free.’

‘Elizabeth?’

‘Oh, Jerry! Thank goodness you’re here.’

‘Sorry, darling, I had trouble parking the car.’ He grasped her good hand and looked up at them worriedly. ‘How is she?’

‘Sore, broken, but she’ll be all right,’ Annie assured him. ‘Her leg’s a bit of a worry. I think the blood vessels might be pinched, so we want to stretch it out a little and line the bones up better.’

He winced, and squeezed his wife’s hand. ‘Will you do it under anaesthetic?’

Ed shook his head. ‘No need, it’s really fast. We’ll give her a sedative and she might moan a bit but she won’t really know anything about it and she’ll come round very quickly. She’s had lots of pain relief.’

‘Morphine. It’s lovely,’ she said, smiling up at her husband and looking utterly away with the fairies.

‘Oh, dear. You always were a lightweight, my poppet,’ he said fondly, and kissed her forehead. ‘She just tripped over the kerb and down she went, just like that. I heard the crack from the other side of the car. Horrible.’

‘Yes, it’s a nasty break, and she’ll need surgery to stabilise it. Right, have we got that ketamine drawn up?’

It took moments. Ed took her foot, Annie took her knee and it was done. Her foot went pink and the pulse was instantly better, with only a little moan to show for it.

Jerry looked a bit queasy for a moment, but he hung on, stroking her hair back from her face and kissing her, and as she came round she smiled at him.

‘It’s all done,’ he told her, and she looked surprised.

‘Oh. That was quick.’

‘That’s us,’ Ed said with a grin. ‘Faster than a speeding bullet. Right, can we have a backslab on that and refer her to the orthopaedic team, please?’

‘The wrist fracture’s undisplaced,’ Annie told him. ‘I think we could just put a backslab on that for now, too.’

He nodded. ‘OK, Elizabeth, they’ll be taking you up to the ward soon to admit you, and then you’ll be going to Theatre to fix your leg.’

‘Will it be all right?’

‘It should be fine, but you might set off the alarms in the airport from now on.’

‘Oh, how exciting,’ she said with a smile, and Annie chuckled, amazed at her optimism and positivity.

Jerry smiled. ‘That’s my girl. Always looks on the bright side.’

But his wife frowned. ‘Not always. Talking of theatres, we won’t be able to go to the play tonight, will we? What a shame. I was so looking forward to it.’

‘We’ll go another time.’ Jerry looked up at them, glancing from Ed to Annie and back. ‘I don’t suppose either of you two can use these?’

He produced a couple of tickets from his jacket pocket and held them out. ‘Tickets for Arsenic and Old Lace at the Yoxburgh Playhouse this evening. We’re obviously going to be otherwise engaged, and it seems a shame to waste them. And if you can’t use them, perhaps you could pass them on?’