‘No. My fridge was pretty empty, and I don’t fancy chocolate or crisps out of the vending machine.’
‘Well, now might be a good time to make a break for it.’
‘Except I can’t get to the café easily. Walking from the car park was bad enough.’
‘Soon fix that,’ he said, and, glancing over his shoulder, he made a satisfied noise and retrieved an abandoned wheelchair.
She stared at it in horror. ‘You have to be joking.’
‘Not in the slightest. Sit down or I’ll put you in it.’
He would. She knew that perfectly well after yesterday, so with a sigh of resignation she sat in the wheelchair and Jenny, one of the senior nurses, nodded and grinned.
‘Well done, Matt.’
‘Don’t encourage him—and call me if you need me, Jenny. I won’t be long. And I can push myself,’ she said, reaching for the wheels.
‘No, you can’t, it’s not that sort of chair,’ he pointed out, and whisked her down the corridor, out of the side entrance and into the park.
Five minutes later they were sitting on a bench under a tree, armed with cold drinks and sandwiches. He patted his lap. ‘Put your leg up. I want to have a look at your ankle,’ he said, and she sighed.
‘If you insist,’ she said, but the moment her ankle settled over that disturbingly strong thigh she could have kicked herself. She should have put it on the wheelchair, because his hands were on it and it was distracting her, and she didn’t want to be distracted. She wanted to talk to him about what her father had said.
But he was probing it now, gently—or sort of gently, and she was distracted in a different way.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry. It feels swollen still. Are you sure you should be working?’
She rolled her eyes and ripped open her sandwich. ‘You’re as bad as Sam. You just want to fuss and cluck over me like a pair of mother hens.’
‘That’s why we’re doctors—an exaggerated sense of responsibility for the health of the nation. It’s nothing personal.’
Tell it to the fairies. His hand was resting on her leg now, his thumb idly stroking over her shin, and she wasn’t even sure he was aware of doing it. She solved the problem by removing her foot from his lap and propping it on the wheelchair like she should have done in the first place, and took a deep breath.
‘I spoke to my father last night and passed on your message,’ she told him tentatively, ‘and he asked me to send you their best wishes and said they think about you often. He spoke very fondly of you.’
‘Oh, bless them. They’ve been amazing to me. I haven’t seen them for ages, not since...’
He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence because she knew.
‘He told me,’ she said softly. ‘About your wife. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’
His smile was wry and a little twisted. ‘I think that was rather the point. No preconceptions. No baggage. And a dead wife and two motherless little children is a lot of baggage in anyone’s language.’
She winced at the frank, softly spoken words and looked away. ‘I can imagine. I’m really sorry. I wish I’d known. I wouldn’t have behaved like I did and I certainly wouldn’t have kissed you like that. I didn’t mean to offend you or overstep the mark.’
His hand reached out, his fingers finding hers. ‘I wasn’t in the least bit offended and you didn’t overstep the mark, Livvy. There was no mark, and there was nothing wrong with your behaviour. And anyway, I kissed you first, and I shouldn’t have done that, either. It was the first time I’d left the kids and gone any distance from home since—well, since then, and I just wanted to be me, you know? Not that poor guy whose wife died and left him with two tiny children, but just a man, someone who could be taken at face value.
‘I’m sick of being different, sick of people making concessions and tiptoeing round me and worrying about upsetting me. I nearly told you, but then I realised I didn’t want to because it would change everything, and I didn’t want it to change. I was enjoying myself, having simple, uncomplicated fun with no strings, no expectations, just a man and a woman working together to achieve a series of goals and having fun on the way. And it was fun, Livvy. I wouldn’t have changed any of it. Well, apart from you hurling yourself down the scree slope. That wasn’t great.’
She felt her eyes fill with tears, and blinked them away, because she’d felt the same, the freedom from the burden of people’s sympathy, everyone watching their words so they didn’t upset or offend or reopen the emotional wounds or poke the sleeping tiger. That was why hardly anybody at the Yoxburgh Park Hospital knew her medical history, and why she hadn’t told Matt.
‘I wouldn’t have changed any of it, either. Well, except that bit. You’re right, it was fun, but I guess we’re back now.’
He sighed quietly, then gave a wry huff of laughter. ‘Yes, we’re back. I know that. Amber insisted on sleeping with me last night, and Charlie woke up at four, crying because he’d wet the bed, so he ended up with me as well. Definitely back. And you know what? It feels good to be back, and I really missed them, but I’m very, very glad I went away, too, and I’m glad you were there with me.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m glad, as well. Still, it’s over now.’ Odd, how that made her feel sad. Why should it? It wasn’t as if anything had really happened. Just a couple of kisses, some shared banter, the odd hug. How could she miss that so much?
‘It doesn’t have to be over,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘I’d still like to see you—not in a serious way, I’m not in the market for anything more than the odd snatched lunch break or a very occasional drink or a quick bite to eat, but it would be great to have that time with you. Not that you’re probably interested in such a trivial offering—’
‘Of course I’m interested,’ she said promptly, surprised that she was. ‘I’m not in the market for anything serious, but I’m happy to spend time with you as and when we can. And I don’t expect anything, Matt. I really don’t.’
He nodded then, his eyes softening into a smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me. I’m relatively new here, I don’t know many people yet and I have plenty of time on my hands. Spending a little of it with you will be a pleasure. And talking of time, I ought to get back, but I’m glad I’ve seen you so I could pass on my father’s message. He spoke very highly of you, and he said your wife was a lovely person.’
A shadow crossed his eyes again, and he nodded. ‘She was. Thank you. That means a lot. He was a brilliant mentor and a good friend to me, and I owe him so much. Say hi for me when you speak to him.’
‘Say it yourself. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.’
He nodded. ‘Maybe I will. Right, I’d better take you back before I have Sam on the phone asking why I’ve abducted one of their registrars, but give me your number first.’ He keyed it into his phone, and then hers jiggled in her pocket. ‘Get that?’
She nodded and smiled. ‘I’ll send you my father’s email address so you can contact him. And call me when you can, anytime you’ve got a gap in the chaos and you want to meet up.’
His eyes searched hers. ‘It’s going to be very random, Livvy. Are you sure you’re OK with that?’
She nodded, although she wasn’t entirely sure what he was really offering in those random moments. Friendship? Or more? An affair? Although that might take more than the occasional coffee break, even if you were desperate.
And she wasn’t that desperate, she really, really wasn’t.
Was