Weekend With The Best Man. Leah Martyn
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Nathan twirled a length of spaghetti around his fork. ‘It’s a good fit for us at the moment. And my job’s safe—well, as far as any job can be these days.’
Dan’s throat closed for a moment. Nathan’s future seemed secure and...good. If only his own future had a semblance of the same simple expectations attached to it. He shook his head. God, he’d better lighten up, or he’d be like a wet blanket at his friend’s wedding.
As if he’d tuned into Dan’s thoughts, Nathan said, ‘Have you written your best man’s speech yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Don’t say anything too incriminating that’ll get me hanged, will you?’
Dan’s mouth twitched. ‘Like the after-rugby parties when we were at uni?’
‘You were there too, matey,’ Nathan reminded him. ‘Let’s not forget that.’
A swirl of emotions juxtaposed in Dan’s head. They had been good times. Uncomplicated. Until life had happened. He swore inwardly. He had to release this choking collar of useless introspection. But it was the day, he justified. The date. The memories. ‘I suppose I could talk about your peculiar eating habits.’
‘Like what?’ Nathan gave an offended snort.
‘In all my travels, I’ve never seen anyone consume food as quickly as you.’
‘It’s a gift.’ Nathan gave a Gallic shrug. ‘What can I do?’
Dan chuckled. ‘Ratbag.’
‘So,’ Nathan asked, suddenly serious, ‘how was it this morning in A and E?’
‘I wish you hadn’t asked me that.’
‘You didn’t kill anyone, did you?’
Dan shook his head. ‘Probably worse. I dumped all over the team in Resus and walked out.’
‘Crikey. I’ll bet Lindsey Stewart was impressed—not!’
Dan grimaced.
‘Did you apologise?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Lins has the respect of the whole hospital.’ Nathan looked serious. ‘You’d better do a real grovel. Ask her for a drink after work and do it then. Properly.’
Dan felt worse and worse. He’d apologise, of course. But ask her for a drink? She’d probably turn him down flat. And he wouldn’t blame her. In the short time he’d been at Hopeton he’d hardly put himself out to get to know her or anyone else. Out of nowhere, Lindsey Stewart’s flashing green eyes seemed to challenge him. And he realised on some basic level that he wanted to get to know her. To break away from the past. He had to turn things around. ‘I shouldn’t have come to work today.’
‘Possibly not,’ Nathan agreed. ‘Just fix it, mate. Hopeton’s not so big that bad behaviour goes unnoticed.’
BACK AT THE STATION, Lindsey glanced at the clock and sighed. She couldn’t wait for the shift to end. And thank heaven she had some leave coming up. And where was Dan? She scanned the precincts with a practised eye. Probably, as Vanessa had supposed, enjoying a long lunch. Except he wasn’t late back, she admitted fairly. It was her own fault she’d taken only the briefest lunch break. But she’d got sick of her own company and her mixed-up thoughts had been driving her nuts. She needed to be busy.
Dan made his way slowly towards the station. There she was, sitting with her back towards him, her dark head with its subtle streaks of auburn bent over some paperwork. He silently thanked all the gods she was on her own. He couldn’t do this in front of an audience. His breathing faltered, his stomach churned and he went forward. ‘Lindsey...’
She spun round and looked up. ‘Dan...’
Dan rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling his muscles bunch but not release.
For a few seconds there was an awkward silence as they both took stock.
‘I owe you an apology,’ Dan said eventually.
Lindsey stood up. She’d feel better able to sort this standing eye to eye. She sent him a cool look. ‘Do you have a problem with the nursing back-up in the department? Or a problem with me?’
‘Of course I don’t.’ Dan felt a spark of anger. Where had she got that idea? He gave a tight shrug. ‘I was out of line earlier. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
Lindsey felt her whole bearing soften. His ownership of his lapse was more, much more than she’d expected. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, suddenly aware they were close, too close for comfort. What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell. His eyes were clouded with uncertainty. Out of nowhere, Lindsey felt a twist of uncertainty herself. She hated being out of sync with any of her colleagues. Hated it. ‘Stuff happens in Casualty.’ She gave an open-handed shrug. ‘Don’t beat yourself up.’
‘Thank you.’ Dan felt the ton weight lift from him. He gave a tight smile. ‘Put it down to an off day. We all have them, don’t you agree?’
‘I guess we do,’ Lindsey said carefully. And if she was any judge of the human condition, he was still having an off day. He seemed a bit...desperate, for want of a better word. Edgy. And there were shadows beneath his eyes. Again. If anyone needed a hug, it was Dan Rossi. But that would be totally out of order. Unprofessional. And embarrass the socks off him. She looked away quickly. In seconds, the tenor of her day had changed completely. What was going on here had no rhyme nor reason. It was just...happening. And she felt she was jumping fences ten feet high and couldn’t stop. It was an extraordinary sensation.
Dan swallowed through a very dry throat. She had her hair twisted into a topknot and flyaway strands were coming loose. He wondered what it would look like if she were to let it tumble down, releasing the scent of the flowery shampoo she used. It wasn’t going to happen. In an almost reflex action she reached up, pushing the wayward strands back in. Dan fisted his hands, resisting the urge to do it for her. ‘So, what’s on the agenda?’
Lindsey put her nurse’s head on quickly. ‘We have a little kid waiting for sutures. Michelle and Andrew are presently treating a youth with burns, the result of walking barefoot on coals after a bush barbecue. If you’d rather take over there and have one of them see the child...?’
‘No, no.’ Dan frowned a bit. ‘Our junior doctors need to gather experience. I’ll see the child. Point me in the right direction.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, as Vanessa took over the station.
‘Fill me in,’ he said, as they walked towards the cubicles.
‘Preschooler, Michael Woods. He was chasing a ball out of bounds, tripped and hit his chin on the edge of a brick garden bed. Fair bit of blood. Panic stations and the school rang mum. She’s with him.’
‘Good. She’ll be a calming influence.’
Lindsey chuckled. ‘You hope.’
‘Are you saying it’s the mothers we have to be afraid of, Lindsey?’
Lindsey turned her head and caught his gaze. She blinked a bit. Unless she was mistaken, there was actually a curve happening to one corner of his mouth. On impulse, she sent him a full-blown smile in return, urged on by a feeling of oneness with him she couldn’t explain. ‘I’ve met a few.’
* * *
Five-year-old Michael was sitting on the edge of the treatment couch, his small legs swinging rhythmically back and forth. He didn’t look overly upset, Lindsey noted thankfully, although the blotches of dried blood on his T-shirt indicated it had been a heavy bump to his chin.
Dan smiled at