Caroline Anderson - Risk of a Lifetime

‘Of course. Thank you, how kind of you. That’s very generous.’

‘Well, they’re no use to us, and there’s no point in wasting them. And you’ve been very kind. All of you have.’

Ed smiled and pocketed the tickets. ‘Thank you. We’ll make sure they get used. Good luck, Elizabeth. Hope it goes well.’

‘I’m sure it will. Thank you for the morphine. I might have to come back for some more of that, it’s rather nice.’

He chuckled as Kate wheeled the trolley out, but she slowed as she passed and murmured something to him.

He just laughed, and then the doors swished shut and he turned to Annie, his eyes thoughtful.

‘I don’t suppose you’re free this evening? I know Kate is, she just told me, but, to be honest I’m not sure I’m brave enough to take her up on it.’ There was a smile flickering in the back of his eyes, and she laughed softly.

‘She’s not that bad.’

‘If you say so, but I’d much rather take you.’

She tilted her head on one side and studied him searchingly. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious. Why not? We’ve just been given two free tickets for a very funny play, and frankly I could do with a good laugh and you look as if you could, too. So—are you free to come with me or are you going to make me take Kate?’

Was she free? Free to go, yes, if her mother would babysit, and tonight wasn’t a night she was usually busy. But—free to go out with Dr Gorgeous?

That was an altogether different question and it made her heart beat a little faster.

‘I need to check with my family,’ she said evasively, and his smile softened.

‘Me, too. So, shall we both do that and then confirm?’

‘Good idea. I’ll let you know.’

‘What happened to our coffee, by the way?’ he asked as they walked out of Resus together.

‘Ah. I left it outside. Thought we’d had enough coffee dramas today.’

His eyes flicked down to her chest, and he smiled, sending all sorts of crazy messages to her nerve endings.

‘Probably wise. Want to try again?’

But the red phone and her pager had other ideas, and they headed off in different directions, coffee on hold again.

‘Don’t forget to let me know,’ he called after her, and she nodded.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to go. No, she was sure that she did, but she wasn’t sure—at all—of the wisdom of it. Nevertheless, as soon as she could, she rang her mother.

* * *

‘So, are you taking me to the theatre tonight?’

He looked down into Kate’s guileless eyes and smiled wryly. ‘No. I’m taking Annie, if she’s free.’

‘Annie?’

‘Yes, Annie. What’s wrong with that?’

Kate shrugged. ‘Nothing. Just—she’s older than you, and she’ll need a babysitter if her mum can’t do it.’

Babysitter?

‘She’s checking it out,’ he said smoothly, while his understanding of Annie realigned itself in private. ‘And age is nothing to do with it. This is hardly a hot date and, anyway, she’s not exactly ancient.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, I’m definitely available,’ she said, her tempting smile promising to turn it into the hot date of the century.

He wasn’t tempted. Not in the least, which was odd because normally he might well have been, but compared to Annie—well, there was no comparison, and he had to put her straight or life was going to be really difficult.

‘Thanks, but I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ he said gently but firmly. ‘And for what it’s worth, I won’t change my mind. Ever. I’m not in the market, Kate, so you’re wasting your time with me.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Shame. We could have had fun. Well, if you do change your mind, you know where to find me.’

Did she have no pride?

He went back to work, the word ‘babysitter’ echoing in his head. Funny. She hadn’t mentioned a child. Family, yes, but a child? Not that it changed anything, not for this evening. Or any other evening. He wasn’t going there, he reminded himself firmly. Tonight was a definite one-off.

He grabbed the little mid-afternoon lull and went out of the door to call his grandmother. ‘Hi, Marnie. How are you doing?’

‘OK. What’s wrong? You don’t usually ring during the day.’

‘I wanted to ask you a favour. We’ve been given tickets to the theatre tonight by a patient. I just wondered if you could cope without me this evening if I went.’

‘Of course I can cope. You go and have a lovely time. Are you going with anyone nice?’

He laughed softly. ‘I’m going with a colleague. We were both working on the case.’

‘Well, have fun with her.’

Her? Damn her razor-sharp intuition. He could challenge her but that would draw attention to it, so he changed the subject. ‘How’s he been today? Are you sure you can get him to bed all right on your own? Mum and Dad should be around if not.’

‘Of course I can do it. As you said, your parents are around if I run into difficulties.’

Although they both knew she wouldn’t call them unless there was an out and out crisis. And he could see where they were coming from, how emotionally distressing his father found it, but—

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. You go out and have a lovely time, but I expect you to tell me all about it.’

He chuckled. ‘OK, will do. I’ll see you later. Call if you need me, I’ll have my phone on silent but I’ll feel it ring and I can always leave. It won’t be too late, anyway.’

‘I won’t need you. You go and have fun. Love you, darling.’

‘Love you, too. I’ll see you later.’

He hung up and turned round, to find Annie watching him thoughtfully.

‘I thought you said you were single?’

He blinked. ‘I am. That was my grandmother.’

‘Oh.’ She coloured slightly and waved a hand. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit, um...’

‘Suspicious?’

‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘It’s a habit.’

He nodded, then said casually, ‘So did you get your babysitter sorted out?’

She stiffened, her eyes widening briefly with alarm, and then she frowned. ‘How...?’

‘Kate,’ he told her, although he didn’t tell her what else Kate had said in the process of eliminating the competition.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Silly me.’ She gave a wry laugh but she didn’t look pleased and so he didn’t pursue it. Her dependants were none of his business.

‘So—did you sort it?’ he asked again, and she nodded.

‘Yes. Yes, I did. It’s fine.’

‘Good. That means we’re both free. So, shall I pick you up at seven?’

Panic flared in her luminous blue eyes. ‘No. I’ll meet you there at a quarter past. It’s only a short walk from home and it’s a lovely day.’

And you don’t want to give me your address.

‘OK. I’ll be there at seven-fifteen, armed with the tickets. We can have a drink before the show. I’ll get them in ready. What would you like?’

‘Oh. Um—dry white wine?’

‘OK.’ He smiled at her, curious that she seemed suddenly flustered by the idea of the drink. ‘So—do you want me, or were you just eavesdropping?’

‘I want y—’ She broke off, and soft colour washed over her cheeks again as she registered what she was saying, but she held his eyes anyway and he suppressed a smile. ‘There’s a little girl I want you to look at,’ she amended.

‘OK. Lead me to her, and you can fill me in.’

* * *

This is not a date.

She stared blankly at the contents of her wardrobe, the words echoing in her head like a mantra.

So—what to wear, then? Jeans? Or smart-casual, which opened a whole new can of worms, because there was a huge range of options.

Who was she kidding? Her wardrobe was scanty, to say the least, and apart from work clothes she spent precious little on it because the budget just didn’t stretch to pretty stuff she never got to wear.

But there was one thing, a rich sapphire-blue maxi dress in soft jersey that she’d bought last summer that she could dress up or down, and she really, really didn’t want to wear jeans and a top again. She hardly ever went out. This was the first time in ages, and she knew it wasn’t a date, but there was no harm in looking nice, was there?

And at least it didn’t smell of coffee.

She put it on, ripped it off again and put a strappy white vest top on underneath, then pulled it on again and stood back. Better. Cleavage would send out a whole different message, one she wasn’t happy with—and just to be on the safe side, she was wearing a T-shirt bra with moulded cups so her nipples wouldn’t show if she got chilly. He’d seen quite enough of them today already.

She slid her feet into some pretty little flat pumps, pulled on a cardi, contemplated and dismissed a necklace and at the last minute spritzed herself with perfume.

It was evening, after all, and she couldn’t wear it at work, so why not? She checked her lippy, stood back for another look and then glanced at her watch.

Yikes. She was going to have to run.

‘Bye, Mum,’ she said, sticking her head round the door.

‘Bye, darling. You look lovely. Have a good time.’

‘Thanks, I will. Call if you need me, I’ve got my phone on silent. Got to dash.’

She grabbed her bag, debated a jacket and then went without it. No time to dither, no time to stroll there in a leisurely fashion, just a rapid walk that brought her up the steps to the Yoxburgh Playhouse at a hair past seven-fifteen.

She walked in, went up to the bar and he was standing there waiting for her, looking good enough to eat in a casual linen blazer, jeans and a blinding white shirt open at the neck to reveal that oh-so-masculine throat. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark shadow on his jaw just added to the tantalising aura of danger that surrounded him.

His smile made her heart trip faster.

‘Hi. Sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re not—well, only a few seconds. Here, have a drink.’

She took the glass, conscious of the fact that she was windswept, breathing hard and would probably start to glow like a beacon in a moment. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. You look lovely, by the way. Pretty dress.’

‘Thanks. I don’t really have a lot of choice, and it’s nice to have a chance to wear it.’

‘It suits you. That colour really works with your eyes.’

‘What, the shadows underneath?’

He chuckled. ‘You really need to learn to take a compliment, Annie.’

Well, no, she didn’t. She’d had compliments, bucketloads of them, but they’d all been lies and frankly she didn’t care if she never heard another one. As she’d pointed out to him, being suspicious was a habit.

‘Sorry. I don’t trust compliments.’

He frowned, opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it again, but his eyes were frank and assessing, and she got the feeling there wasn’t much he didn’t see.

And that made her uneasy. She didn’t want to be the object of his scrutiny, so she changed the subject fast.

‘So—remind me of the plot?’

One of those strong, dark eyebrows quirked, but he let her get away with it.

‘Oh, it’s crazy. Two daffy old sisters who poison their lodgers and bury them in the cellar in graves dug by a brother who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt and he’s digging the Panama Canal, and another brother who’s in love with the preacher’s daughter. I haven’t seen it for years but it’s very, very funny.’

‘It sounds chaotic. I was trying to remember if I’d ever seen it, but I don’t think I have. What a shame about Elizabeth’s fall.’