The Midwife's One-Night Fling: The Midwife's One-Night Fling / Baby Miracle in the ER. Carol Marinelli
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than fine!
He was like a bear, Freya thought. Not a fat bear, more like a bear just out of hibernation, all slender and restless and hungry.
And then she smiled at her mad thoughts.
Pat was chatting to Kelly about the film that Freya still hadn’t seen. ‘I was thinking I might go this weekend,’ Pat said.
‘You have to,’ said Kelly. ‘It’s amazing.’
Freya again tried to be brave. ‘I’m dying to see it,’ she admitted.
‘You should.’ Kelly looked over and nodded, and then she stood. ‘Come on, Pat. We’d better get back.’
Once they’d gone Freya let out a sigh. Over and over she’d been mentioning that she’d love to go and see the film, but there had been no takers. How much more of a hint was she supposed to give?
She sat staring at the television and took a sip of her revolting packet soup. And then a voice—one she had really come to like—chimed deep and low.
‘I’ll take you to the bloody film.’
She looked over.
‘I can take a hint.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You keep suggesting it every time I’m near. All you have to do ask.’
‘I wasn’t hinting for you to take me!’ Freya said, and actually found herself going red. ‘I was waiting for one of them to ask me along.’
‘You’re too subtle,’ he said, and lay there smiling at her. ‘Poor Freya-no-Friends.’
‘Don’t!’ she said, but she was smiling.
‘You have to invite yourself—or just go along with them.’
‘What? Just turn up? Like a stalker?’
‘Well, maybe not.’
‘I’ve always had friends,’ Freya said, for she had been giving it some considerable thought. ‘But I’ve realised that’s because we all grew up together. I’ve never actually had to make any.’
‘Rubbish,’ he scoffed. ‘You’re saying that because you grew up in a village you all get along?’
‘It’s not a village.’
‘Well, town or whatever,’ he said. ‘But I’m sure there are people you don’t like there. You’re not automatically friends with everyone you grew up with. God, I loathed Derek next door, and we had to play together all the time.’
‘Why?’
‘That’s for another time.’
He stretched and yawned and sat up, more bear-like than ever as he gave himself a sort of shake.
‘I’m starving,’ he said.
‘I’ve got some soup.’
‘No, thanks.’ Richard pulled a face. ‘I’m going to head down to the canteen. What time do you finish?’
She’d thought he must have been joking about going out. ‘Not until nine.’
‘Well, I’m covering for Simon until eight, so I doubt I’ll get away much before then. I’ll meet you at the entrance to Casualty.’
‘I don’t even know if the film’s on,’ Freya said. ‘Or the session time.’
‘Times,’ he corrected. ‘It’s on everywhere. You’re not in Cromayr Bay now, where they have to come and change the reels...’
He was teasing, yet it made her laugh. ‘It’s not that bad.’
‘Give me your number and if I can I’ll text you if I’m not going to make it. But if I’m not there by a quarter past, just head for home. It’ll mean I’m stuck somewhere—nothing else. I won’t be avoiding you!’
He even turned the subject of her being a little lonely into a smile.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Freya said, and recited her number. ‘And, no, I won’t be upset if...’ she started, but her voice trailed off as Stella came in.
‘Freya, I know you’re not due back yet, but we’ve got a bit of a rush on.’
‘Of course,’ Freya said, and she stood and finished the last of her soup, a little surprised when Richard spoke again.
‘I’ll see you around nine, then?’
Freya felt her cheeks were a little warm as she walked back round to the unit—because he had made it clear in front of Stella that they were meeting up tonight.
It meant nothing, she told herself. It was just two colleagues going out. If it had been Kelly or Pat or anyone else she wouldn’t be giving it too much thought and Stella was surely the same.
‘See Rose?’ Stella said, and pointed over to Rita, the domestic who had done her orientation with Freya on her first day.
‘Rita,’ Freya corrected as they walked.
‘Rita, then.’ Stella nodded. ‘See how it looks like she’s emptying the rubbish...?’
‘Er...yes,’ Freya answered.
‘Well, she’s not—she’s actually collecting all the discarded hearts...’
Freya pressed her lips together as she realised what Stella meant, and even managed a wry smile as Stella spoke on.
‘Oh, look, she’s going under the bed. Must have found another one. You know how he dashes from one emergency to another?’ She didn’t await Freya’s response. ‘Well, he’s the same with women.’
‘Stella.’ Freya stopped walking and gave her senior a wide smile—because she knew his reputation and because Stella had made her smile. ‘We’re going to the cinema. No more, no less.’
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
* * *
It was a slow evening by Primary Hospital standards, which would have meant a chaotic one back home! But by nine Freya was in the changing room. She took her phone from her locker, as she chose not to have it on her at work, and found herself letting out a breath of relief that there was no text from Richard to say he couldn’t make it.
And then she swallowed, because relief possibly wasn’t the right word.
Freya was nervous about tonight.
She so wanted to make friends.
Only this didn’t feel like any friendship Freya had ever known!
She pulled off her horrible uniform, changed into the grey linen dress and ballet pumps she had worn into work and let her hair down, pulling her curls out with her fingers.
In the end it was actually Freya who was a little late, and when she arrived at the entrance to Casualty he was checking his phone.
He was out of scrubs and in a suit, although minus a tie, and beside him Freya felt rather drab.
She looked far from drab, though. In fact, Richard thought as she walked towards him, she was wearing the same dress she had been on the day they had met.
And that was concerning, because usually he couldn’t recall what any woman had worn the previous night, let alone in previous weeks. He’d even joked to a friend that he’d be hell at reporting a missing person because he’d be unable to tell the police what the missing person was wearing.
He didn’t really notice such things, other than thinking, Oh, she looks nice.
With Freya though he’d be able to describe in detail to any police officer that the dress was grey linen, and it was a touch looser than it had been on the day