The Surgeon's Proposal. Lilian Darcy

have to look at my diary. Duncan, Mummy has to go, OK?’

      She had to say it twice to get his attention, but when she did, he rushed over and flung his arms around her legs.

      ‘No!’

      ‘You have a great day, OK?’

      ‘No. Don’t go.’

      ‘I’ll see you later.’ Aeons later. ‘And we’ll have spaghetti for dinner.’

      Duncan burst into tears and clung to her legs as she dragged herself towards the door. Lauren intervened, picking him up and talking brightly about blocks and puzzles. He began to kick and struggle, and the brightness was more forced. ‘We don’t kick, Duncan,’ she said.

      The little girl’s mother walked past, in the wake of a sweet-voiced and perfectly contented, ‘I love you, Mummy!’

      ‘I love you too, Katie, my sweetheart angel,’ she called back. Smugly, it seemed to Annabelle.

      ‘Just go, Annabelle. He’ll be fine in two seconds,’ Lauren said.

      They both knew it wasn’t true.

      ‘Thanks,’ Annabelle answered.

      Unlocking her car, she heard the little girl’s mother muttering pointedly about discipline and aggression and behaviour problems. She was still shaking and queasy as she drove out of the parking area and into the street.

      The whole of today’s list in Theatre Three consisted of hips and knees, Annabelle discovered when she arrived at Coronation Hospital. Dr Shartles had two hip replacements, then Alex took over for two quite complex knee operations and another hip procedure sandwiched in between, with Dylan assisting. All three were private patients, which meant that Alex would involve himself more thoroughly than he did with public patients having the same surgery.

      Dr Shartles’s hip replacements went without a hitch, which served as a necessary settling to Annabelle’s focus. She enjoyed this aspect of surgery—the fact that there was a standard framework to the whole thing, so that even when something went wrong the surgical staff still had procedures in place for dealing with it.

      Today, however, she felt like the meat in a sandwich. As soon as she’d calmed down and dragged her mind away from Duncan, she had time to think about the encounter with Alex which lay ahead. Nice if Dylan hadn’t been part of the equation as well!

      Dr Shartles left it to his registrar to complete the final procedure, the patient was wheeled out to Recovery and Annabelle and the other theatre nurse, Barb Thompson, prepped Theatre Three for the next operation. Annabelle was an experienced scrub nurse, gloved and sterile like the surgeons, and worked closely beside them.

      Just beyond the swing doors, she heard Alex’s voice, and wasn’t surprised at the sharpness in it.

      ‘No, not yet. I have some calls to make first. When Calford gets off the phone.’

      So they were both here.

      Knots tightened in her temples, and she thought, I wish I was on a beach. With Duncan. I wish we lived on a beach. On a tropical island. Eating coconuts and mangoes and yams. I don’t want to be here.

      ‘Next patient just got cancelled,’ Barb reported. ‘Don Laycock. Dr Sturgess’s patient. Third time. He’s…’ She glanced over at Annabelle and quickly amended her sentence. ‘Not happy.’

      ‘No, he wouldn’t be,’ Annabelle agreed. She tried to speak calmly and casually, but it didn’t quite come off.

      Everyone had already heard about the cancelled wedding when she’d got in this morning, although the hospital friends who’d been at the reception had all told her they wouldn’t say anything. She wasn’t surprised. It was the kind of news that travelled fast, and perhaps Alex himself had told people. Annabelle hadn’t had to deliver the little speech she’d prepared for this morning, and which she knew she’d have garbled despite the preparation.