Picking up the Pieces

They watched him walk away, and Cassie shook her head. ‘I have a bad feeling about him and Trevor, Mary-Jo.’

‘You do? Me, too. He’s got a hell of a temper under that placid, easygoing exterior, I fancy. Witness the way he ripped into you the first night, without any warning.’

Cassie flushed scarlet and busied herself with the dregs of her coffee. ‘I was miles away.’

‘Mmm — down his trousers.’

She flushed again, even more hotly.

‘Mary-Jo, you’re disgusting.’

‘No — just honest. Hey, I’m just jealous. You two have obviously hit it off really well. Another date tonight?’

‘Another?’

Mary-Jo shrugged and grinned. ‘He turned up in Theatre at three on Sunday morning in a DJ, for God’s sake. Of course the guy had been somewhere. His eyes were wild and he was as crabby as an ousted tom-cat — you didn’t need a degree in psychology to know where he was coming from! Anyway,’ she shrugged again, ‘I asked him.’

Cassie groaned, and Mary-Jo laughed.

‘Hey, it’s OK, kid, I was subtle.’

Cassie laughed out loud. ‘You? Subtle? That’ll be the day.’ She stirred the chilly dregs in her cup again. ‘So … what did he say?’

‘He said he’d kill Trevor when he caught up with him — something about permanently disrupting the man’s sex life.’

Despite herself, Cassie chuckled. ‘I wonder how?’

Mary-Jo gave an evil grin. ‘I dunno — he had a scalpel in his hand at the time. I volunteered to help.’

Cassie laughed again. ‘Get in the queue! I have a vested interest!’

Mary-Jo shot her a keen look. ‘So, things could get pretty serious with you two, then?’

Cassie lifted her shoulders slightly. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see.’

Her friend studied her face for a second, and then a broad smile broke out over her features and she nodded slowly. ‘At last. Well, good on you, kid. It’s about time.’

‘Right, that about wraps that up.’ Miles Richardson shut the last file and leant back in the chair, steepling his fingers and studying Nick openly.

‘How’s it going so far?’

He nodded slowly. ‘Fine. No problems.’

‘Trevor?’

Nick looked away and chose his words carefully. ‘I get the feeling he’s not going to be the most cooperative colleague.’

Miles snorted. ‘Jumped-up little toad — he’s a lousy surgeon, a rotten diagnostician and a manipulative snake in the grass. Still, we lose him in three weeks or so — off to A and E to wreak havoc. He’s on general practice rotation, thank God. Think you can cope that long?’

‘If I see this little of him, I would say it’ll be a breeze.’

They exchanged an understanding smile, and Miles stood up.

‘Belinda rang — said would I like to ask you over for supper. Nothing special, just pot luck, but you’re more than welcome.’

Nick hesitated. ‘Er — thank you, that would have been very nice, but I have actually made other arrangements.’

‘Cassie Blake?’

He exhaled sharply, then laughed. ‘Yes — how did you guess?’

Miles winked. ‘Tom-toms. Can’t keep a secret at St Augustine’s. Bring her along, if you like — or would that cramp your style?’

He debated turning the invitation down, but the man was his boss, and he had already got off on the wrong foot with one of the department. Anyway, Cassie had said she liked him …

‘Not at all. Thank you, I will bring her, if you’re sure your wife won’t mind —’

‘No, no — be delighted, dear boy. Cassie’s a charming girl — best damn scrub-nurse I’ve ever worked with. Funny, that —’ he paused pensively ‘— only Trevor’s ever complained about her.’ He shook his head as if in puzzlement, then fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. ‘Here — expect you at seven-fifteen. Think you can find it? It’s just round the corner.’

Nick glanced at the card. ‘No problem — I can always ask someone. Thank you.’

Now all he had to do was break the bad news to Cassie.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_c645f91c-ab10-50d9-a568-4bf6b633986c)

‘SORRY about that.’

Cassie smiled at him warmly. ‘Don’t worry, I enjoyed it. They’re a charming couple.’

He wrapped his arm round her shoulders and squeezed her gently. ‘I would still rather have had you to myself.’

His words warmed her, and she slipped her arm up round his waist and hugged him back.

They had walked to the Richardsons’ house, as it was a lovely clear evening. It was cold and crisp, but the stars were bright and their breath frosted on the air. There was very little traffic about on the little side-roads around the hospital, and as they walked back Cassie was very aware of Nick, of the steady crunch of his footsteps, the solid jut of his hip against hers as he matched his stride to hers, his other hand that had found hers on his waist and now clasped it lightly, shielding it from the cold.

It was still early, only just after ten when they arrived back at the hospital, and she sensed his hesitation as they reached the door.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ she asked tentatively.

He paused, as if he was struggling with himself, then nodded. ‘A quick one. I want to talk to you, actually — about Saturday.’

She opened the door and flicked on the light, then busied herself with the kettle.

‘What about Saturday?’ she asked as casually as she could manage. In truth, she didn’t feel very casual about it. She had felt edgy for days, and then today in Theatre had stirred it all up again, only somehow worse. She had actually been relieved when they had gone to the Richardsons’ rather than a bistro where they would have been alone in the crowd, but walking back her awareness of him seemed to have reached new heights.

She felt terribly vulnerable with him, somehow exposed, as if she had behaved rather foolishly and precipitately on Saturday night. She would have given him anything he asked that night — anything at all. For her, at least, what was blossoming between them seemed incredibly precious, something to be cherished and nurtured. She didn’t know quite how she would feel if he didn’t feel the same, but she knew she was being unrealistic. He was a man, after all, and men — well, they were different. They didn’t see and feel things the same as women, and she knew for a fact that he would define her emotions as sentimental clap-trap.

He was clever, though, practised with women. For all her lack of experience she knew that. Knew, too, that he would play the game by the rules and pretend an element of romance and sentiment to satisfy her.