Weekend With The Best Man. Leah Martyn
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‘So, you like playing footy, Michael?’ Dan asked.
‘I can kick the ball as high as the house,’ Michael declared, aiming upwards with one small arm.
‘Fantastic.’ Dan looked impressed.
Lindsey gave him a tick of approval for keeping things light and thereby gaining their small patient’s trust. Unobtrusively, she gloved and said quietly, ‘I’ll pop that sticking plaster off Michael’s chin, shall I, Dr Dan?’
‘Let’s do that.’ Almost casually, Dan hooked over a mobile stool and snapped on gloves. He sat in front of Michael. His eyes narrowed slightly. The removal of the plaster had revealed a gaping hole underneath. The mother’s gasp was audible. ‘Easily fixed.’ Dan’s tone was gently reassuring. Tilting Michael’s chin, he examined the damage more closely. The edges of the wound were uniform. They would align nicely. It would be a neat scar.
‘Is he OK?’ Stephanie asked anxiously.
‘His bite seems even,’ Dan responded. ‘And his baby teeth all seem in place. I’ll put a stitch or two in his chin and he should be as right as rain.’
Gently, Lindsey positioned Michael for the suturing procedure, laying him back with his head at the end of the bed.
Dan rolled across the trolley containing the instruments he’d need and switched on an overhead light. ‘Now, Michael, this is where you have to be as brave as the best footy player in the world,’ Dan said, flicking up the syringe of local anaesthetic.
Michael’s blue eyes lit up. ‘Like David Beckham.’
Dan huffed a laugh. ‘That’s the guy. Now, if you lie very still for me while I make your chin better, I’m sure I can find an amazing sticker you can wear on your shirt tomorrow and show the kids at preschool.’
‘My shirt’s all dirty,’ Michael said with childish logic.
‘Honey, we’ll find you a clean one to wear.’ Stephanie smiled at her son and held his hand tightly.
Dan looked up. ‘Lindsey, if you would, please?’
She nodded. The injection of the lignocaine would sting and be a shock to the little one. ‘Squeeze Mummy’s hand hard, Michael,’ she said, placing herself gently across the child’s body in case he tried to wriggle free.
In a few seconds the local had been injected and they waited a couple of minutes for it to take effect. Dan prodded the wound gently in several places. ‘Can you feel anything hurting, Michael?’
Eyes squeezed shut, Michael said, ‘No...’
‘Good boy. Keep holding Mummy’s hand and we’ll be finished in no time.’
In a short time Lindsey watched Dan snip the last suture close to the skin. ‘There you are, sweetheart.’ She gave the little shoulder a gentle pat. ‘All finished.’
‘Can I get my sticker now?’
Dan looked a question. He’d promised one to his small patient. He just hoped they had some in the department.
‘They’re in a box at the station,’ Lindsey said right on cue. ‘Won’t be a tick.’
* * *
‘Gorgeous little boy, wasn’t he?’ Lindsey remarked lightly as she went about tidying the treatment room.
Dan was parked at the mobile tray, writing up his notes. He lifted his head in query. ‘Sorry?’
‘Michael,’ Lindsey said. ‘He’ll probably be a real heartbreaker.’
‘Yes, probably...’ Dan went back to his notes, finishing them swiftly.
‘Thanks.’ He gave the ghost of a smile and left quietly.
Lindsey bundled the soiled linen into a bin with a vengeance. What was with this guy? Would it kill him to indulge in a bit of normal conversation?
* * *
Dan was amazed how quickly the rest of the shift passed. The ache in his shoulders had disappeared. Cautiously, he began to feel, as a result of the sudden turnaround with Lindsey, he might have a chance at some kind of normal life here at Hopeton. A chance he couldn’t afford to ignore.
Deep in thought, he began collating paperwork at the station. There were some end-of-shift letters he needed to write to several GPs. In Dan’s opinion, their respective patients would need referral—
‘Still at it?’ Lindsey stopped at the station, her brows raised in query.
Dan’s mouth tipped into a rueful smile. ‘Still a bit of tidying up to do. You’re off, then?’ His fingers curled round his pen. Idiot. It was the end of her shift. Of course she was off. Gone were the hospital scrubs; instead, she was wearing soft jeans that clung to her legs and a long-sleeved silver-grey top, a silky scarf in a swirl of multi-colours around her throat.
And knee-high boots.
Dan felt his heart walk a few flights of stairs. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say to the beautiful woman standing in front of him. And how pathetic was that?
‘It’s Friday, you should give yourself an early mark.’ Lindsey looked more keenly at him. The lines of strain were still there around his eyes. He needed to relax. But whether or not he’d allow her to help him do that was another matter entirely.
But for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she had to try.
‘Most of us are going to the pub. Few drinks, a game of snooker, a pizza or five later. You’re very welcome to join us.’
Dan’s heart suddenly came to a halt. Thank you, God. ‘Sounds good. Uh—which pub?’
‘The Peach Tree. Ancient red-brick place at the top of the main street. See you there, then?’
‘You bet.’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Thanks for the invite.’
‘Welcome.’ Lindsey hitched up her shoulder bag and turned, moving off quickly to catch up with Vanessa.
A fleeting frown touched Dan’s eyes as he watched the two women make their way towards the exit. He took a long controlling breath and let it go. Thanks to Lindsey’s invitation, he’d taken the first steps towards his new life.
With the thought still humming in his head, he went back to his office to type up his referrals.
Letters completed, Dan swung up from his desk, looking up in question when Martin Lorimer, the senior doctor on take, poked his head in. ‘Ah—Dan. You’re still here. MVA coming in. Pile-up on the highway, two vehicles, all teenagers. Can you hang about?’
Dan felt his gut contract. Did he have a choice? Hell. Lindsey would think he’d bottled out or just been plain rude. And he didn’t need that kind of misunderstanding after today’s debacle. He’d text her if he could but he had no idea of her mobile number. He swore under his breath. If the injuries to the kids were not too serious, maybe he’d still make it to the pub. Holding that thought, he made his way towards the ambulance bay.
* * *
‘I got you another OJ.’ Vanessa placed the glass of juice in front of Lindsey. ‘And what’s with you tonight, Lins? We could have won the snooker if you hadn’t been so not into it. Now I owe Andrew ten bucks.’ Vanessa pleated a strand of her blunt-cut blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Um...do you think Andrew might be a bit keen?’
‘On you?’ Lindsey took a mouthful of her drink. ‘Maybe. Every time he needs a hand with a patient, he makes a beeline for you.’
‘So, do you think he’s ever going to get off his butt and do something about it?’
‘Why wait for him? Van, you live in the same building. Surely you run into him about the place. Just ask him in for a coffee or something.’
‘But