Her Little Secret. Carol Marinelli
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need to get that seen to this morning.’
Louise, once she’d bitten down on her cotton bud soaked in oil of cloves, managed to rally enough to tell him the name of the bar she worked at in the city, and that she was on at the weekend if he wanted to stop by for a drink on the house.
‘I’m working…’ Nick grinned ‘…but that’s terribly kind of you.’
‘He’s worth getting toothache for,’ Louise commented as he swept out and only the fresh scent of him lingered. They shared a little smile. ‘If I suddenly come over all dizzy, will you call him back for me?’
‘I’ll get Amy, the other registrar.’ Alison winked. ‘She’s good with dizzy females.’
‘Shame.’
Nick changed the atmosphere of the place—he seemed delighted to be there, nothing was too trivial and nothing major unnerved him, as Alison found out when the husband of a swollen-ankle case suddenly complained of chest pain and started to pass out. Still Nick remained unruffled, breaking the gentleman’s fall as Alison quickly wheeled out his wife, pressing the emergency bell and collecting the crash trolley.
By the time she returned, about twenty seconds later, the man had gone into full arrest and between them they had him clipped to the portable monitor, with Alison commencing cardiac massage even before help had arrived.
‘Let’s get him down to Resus.’ Amy, the emergency registrar, called for a trolley, but Nick thought otherwise.
‘Let’s just keep going here.’ It was a tiny override, or just a difference of opinion—nothing really—but when Amy, who easily took offence, simply nodded and they all just carried on working on the man on the cubicle floor, Alison realised the respect he had garnered in the short while he had been here.
Pads on, Nick shocked him, and before the crash team had arrived, the poor man was back in sinus rhythm and starting to come round.
‘It’s okay, sir…’ Nick’s was absolutely the voice you wanted to come round to. He didn’t talk down to the man and he didn’t scare him as he lay there groaning. ‘You’re doing fine—your heart went into an irregular rhythm but it’s beating normally now.’ He smiled up to Amy. ‘Okay, let’s get him on a trolley and down to you guys. I’ll go and speak with his wife.’
‘What was he in for?’ Amy asked.
‘He’s here with his wife, Doreen,’ Nick explained. ‘She’s got an ankle injury.’
Having seen what was going on, Libby, the receptionist, had taken Doreen to an interview room and taken the husband’s details from the shaken woman. After quickly writing his notes and checking the new patient’s name, Nick walked down to the interview room with Alison.
He was very thorough, first checking her husband’s details and assuming nothing—that Ernest was, in fact, her husband and finding out if she had contacted anyone. Then Nick got to the point, explaining that it would appear Ernest had had a heart attack.
‘It probably doesn’t feel it now, but your husband is an extremely lucky man—he could not have been in a better place when this happened.’
‘Will he be okay?’
‘We certainly hope so. He’s conscious, the cardiologists will be running some tests now, but certainly the next twenty-four hours will be critical. I’m going to go and speak with my colleagues now and find out some more for you. I suggest you ring your son and get some family here to support you.’ He stood and shook her hand. ‘And I’ll be back soon to take a good look at your ankle.’
He was a complete and utter pleasure to work with, to be around, so much so that when Alison ducked into the staffroom for a ten-minute break later that morning, she wanted to turn tail and run, because it was just him in there and to be alone in his rather dazzling company rather terrified her.
‘What about this…?’
She frowned as he handed her the local newspaper with an advertisement circled—a one-bedroom flat, two streets from the beach, and it wasn’t that expensive. ‘I’ve already seen it,’ Alison admitted. ‘It’s above a pub that has live music six nights a week.’ She sat down next to him. ‘I did seriously think about it, though. Thanks,’ she added. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘Can’t help myself,’ Nick admitted. ‘I love looking at real estate—I’ve chosen the one I want…’ And he showed her the stunning apartment he’d circled, with bay views and a balcony as big as the staffroom they were sitting in. ‘Nice to dream.’
And it was, because Alison had circled the very same one in her own local newspaper, had looked it up on the net and taken a virtual tour of the place.
‘You can’t have it because it’s already mine.’
‘It’s a great spot,’ Nick said. ‘I can absolutely see why you don’t want to move away.’
And they got to talking, about she was on late shift tomorrow and she had to squeeze in two flat inspections beforehand, and there was a mixture of both relief and disappointment when he told her he was off for the weekend. Relief that he’d told a little white lie to Louise and the stab of disappointment Alison did her very best to ignore. Instead she told him how she loved to walk on the cliffs on her days off and, strange as it sounded, there was the most beautiful cemetery that he just had to explore, then about the coffee bar that did the ricotta cheese and cherry strudel which she rewarded herself with now and then. Then the intercom buzzed—someone searching for Nick—and Alison realised that her fifteen-minute break had turned into twenty-five.
‘Told you.’ Ellie smirked when she came round that evening on her way out for the night.
‘Told me what?’ Alison said, letting her in. There was no way she’d give Ellie so much as a hint that he’d won her over too, but Ellie was having none of it. Once she’d said hi to Rose, and chatted for a few minutes about an engagement present for a friend’s party the following week, she asked to go on the computer.
‘There!’ Ellie was already a friend of his on Facebook—along with four hundred and thirty-seven others—and, yes, hanging upside down on a rope, his stomach looked lovely with his T-shirt around his neck. Alison did note that his status was single, and held her breath as she read about his crazy adventures—whitewater rafting, rock-climbing, swimming in waterholes. And she didn’t care if there were only freshwater crocodiles there, he was dangerous and reckless and everything she didn’t want.
Great day at work—I love this place, Nick suddenly updated his status, and Alison blinked.
She thought of the toothaches and grumbles and moans down in section B and the drama with Ernest, which was pretty much routine in Emergency—it had been an okay day, even a good day perhaps, but hardly great.
Except, somehow he’d made it so.
Out to sample local delights, he added, and Alison rather hoped it wasn’t Louise.
Ellie happily scrolled through what was just loads of chatter and comments from friends, and about a thousand photos.
‘He broke off his engagement before he came here,’ Ellie said knowledgeably.
‘How do you know?’
‘You can find out anything on this. Well, I’m not sure he broke it off, but I think so, and look…’ Ellie was a machine and in no time at all had located photos of the once happy couple, but Alison had better things to do than fill her head with Nick.
‘Come out with us,’ Ellie pushed. ‘Get some dinner…listen to a band.’
And Alison was about to again say no, she had to be up early for flat inspections and then work a late shift tomorrow, as Rose pointed out.
‘There are a few of us meeting up.’ Ellie smiled. ‘You never know who’ll be there.’
Which