Emergency: Christmas. Alison Roberts
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her head decisively. ‘He’s going to ask me out. I just need to set it up.’ Her smile was hopeful. ‘I’m sure he will. If he wasn’t interested he wouldn’t say the things he does. And he wouldn’t keep giving me those looks.’
‘Hmm.’ Belinda didn’t sound convinced. ‘He could be toying with you, you know. He might just be playing the game of getting you interested to prove to himself that he still has what it takes. He’s no spring chicken.’
‘He’s not exactly old. Thirty-eight maybe. Or forty.’
‘Probably forty-five,’ Belinda decided. ‘Grey hairs are less obvious on blonds.’ She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘I suppose he’s not bad-looking but he’s not the only one. That new registrar of ours isn’t bad either. What’s his name?’
‘Mark Wallace.’ Penelope shrugged. She hadn’t taken much notice of Mark in the few days he’d been in the department. He had certainly performed impressively this morning, however, with the emergency procedure on the young paraglider. Penelope was easily diverted. ‘How’s Richard doing? Have you heard?’
‘He’s in Intensive Care. Apparently the CT scan didn’t show up any major brain damage or injury to the trachea and the swelling is going down with the ice packs and anti-inflammatory treatment. They’re going to set the fractures later today and they’ll take him off ventilation as soon as they’re sure the swelling is under control. I think he’s going to be fine.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ Penelope’s smile was very satisfied. ‘He could have died. Great case, wasn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’ Belinda drained her coffee-cup, checked her watch and sighed. ‘Two more minutes. I’m ready to go home.’
Penelope sighed as well. Belinda hadn’t been as supportive as she’d hoped so far. ‘What am I going to do, Bindy? About Jeremy, I mean?’
‘Let him think you haven’t got the slightest interest in him,’ Belinda advised. ‘Find someone else. There’s a new rotation of house-surgeons in there. Some of them are quite tasty.’
‘Bindy!’ Penelope would have been genuinely shocked if she hadn’t known her friend so well. She still shook her head in mild disapproval. ‘You can’t go round eyeing up every man that comes into the emergency department as a potential plaything.’
‘Why not? You can bet your boots that’s exactly what they’re doing to us.’ Belinda crumpled the polystyrene cup. ‘Come on. Back to the salt mines.’
‘I don’t want to just play.’ Penelope followed Belinda reluctantly. ‘I want something real.’
‘And you really think that Jeremy is the real thing?’
Penelope’s nod was solemn.
‘In that case, you need to spend some time away from work with him. Have a few drinks somewhere. Meet up at a party.’
Penelope nodded again, more happily this time, as the nurses skirted the car park. This sounded like a plan, though not an easily implemented one.
‘Nobody’s having parties at the moment. The weather’s still a bit iffy for barbecues and it’s too early for the Christmas rush.’
‘We could have a party.’
‘In our flat? We’d be lucky to squeeze six people into our living room.’
‘Hmm.’ Belinda paused as they reached the ambulance bay. ‘Where does he live?’
‘Nowhere. He asked me to go house-hunting with him a couple of weeks ago, remember?’
‘Oh, yes. The day he didn’t show up.’
‘He got called in.’
‘So he said. After he’d left you moping around, waiting all day.’
‘He couldn’t ring.’ Penelope had to defend Jeremy. ‘He was in Theatre.’
Belinda’s expression was enough to remind Penelope that even operating theatres were equipped with telephones but she didn’t press her point. ‘He must live somewhere.’
‘He’s got a room in ‘‘The Hovel’’.’
‘Aha! Excellent.’
‘Why?’ While the nickname for the huge, old house that had been converted to single doctors’ quarters dated from the days before extensive renovation, it was still not generally considered the most desirable residence.
‘There’s a bar downstairs. What time do you finish today?’
‘Six o’clock.’
‘Even better. I’m off at six-thirty. We’ll go and park ourselves in the bar. He’s bound to float past and we’ll nab him and offer him a drink.’
‘We can’t just go into the bar. It’s for residents only.’
‘And their guests. Matt Greenway is living there and he’s been after me to have a drink with him for weeks. Consider yourself invited, my friend. Wear something sexy.’
‘I don’t do sexy. I’ve only got my jeans here, anyway.’
‘Jeans can be very sexy.’
‘Only on a figure like yours. On mine, jeans are practical.’
‘What else did you wear in this morning? I can’t remember.’
‘Red jumper, white shirt.’
‘The red jumper’s good. Nice neckline. Ditch the shirt, though. Much sexier with nothing underneath.’
‘I’ll itch.’
The ambulance backing into the bay was a reminder that the two nurses had extended their break for too long. Belinda gave Penelope an exasperated glance. ‘Look, Penny—do you want to do something about him or not?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Well, this is it. The best plan I can come up with. The rest is up to you.’
‘OK.’ Penelope took a very deep breath. ‘I’ll do it. No shirt.’
* * *
The plan had got off to a wonderful start. Matt Greenway seemed delighted to have Penelope’s company if it gave him a chance to spend time with Belinda. There were enough other people in the bar to make the atmosphere casual and Jeremy did, indeed, float past. Belinda took her cue perfectly.
‘Jeremy! Come and join us. You can give us an update on our paraglider.’
Jeremy nodded at Belinda and smiled warmly at Penelope. ‘I’ll get a drink and be right with you,’ he promised.
Now, however, the wheels appeared to have fallen off the plan. Jeremy had his drink but he wasn’t moving away from the bar. He was deep in conversation with Mark Wallace.
Belinda looked annoyed. She nudged Penelope. ‘You’ll have to go over there,’ she whispered, ‘and break it up.’
Penelope was disconcerted. ‘How?’
‘Go and get us some more drinks. Join the conversation and then steer Jeremy over here. Tell him I’m waiting to hear about our patient.’
Penelope moved before she had time to get nervous. The barman smiled at her.
‘Same again?’
Penelope nodded. She was listening to the conversation between the two men beside her.
‘I would have gone for a tracheostomy myself. We couldn’t be sure that the injury level was entirely above the larynx.’
‘It was worth a try. I’ve been taught to save tracheostomy for a last resort. There’s a high morbidity and the associated mortality risk is about three per cent. That’s not insignificant. I saw