‘So it went well, then, your date with Lewis?’ Sydney asked.
Yes and no. Except it hadn’t really been a date. And it wouldn’t be fair to Lewis to discuss it. ‘It was OK.’
‘OK?’ Sydney and Marina shared a glance. ‘Women never say that about a date with Lewis.’
Abigail spread her hands. ‘He took me zip-lining.’
‘Ah.’ There was a wealth of understanding in Sydney’s voice. ‘That’s the thing about the male doctors in this department. They all seem to like doing mad things. Marina’s husband organised a sponsored abseil down the hospital tower. All two hundred and fifty feet of it.’ She shuddered. ‘And somehow he persuaded the whole department into doing it.’
‘Mmm, I can imagine that,’ Abigail said dryly. Max had persuaded her to do something well outside her comfort zone, too.
‘But it had its good points. I met Marco because I got stuck,’ Sydney said. ‘Faced with the reality of walking backwards into nothing, I just froze.’ She grimaced. ‘Marco sang me down.’
‘He sang you down?’ Abigail couldn’t help being intrigued. ‘How?’
‘He got me to sing with him, to distract me from the fact that I was on the edge of this huge tower, and then he talked me through every step. I was still shaking at the bottom of the tower when he abseiled down next to me.’ Sydney rolled her eyes. ‘And when he landed, it was as if he’d done nothing scarier than walking along the pavement towards me.’
‘That sounds exactly like the sort of thing Lewis would do,’ Abigail said.
‘He wasn’t with the department then, or he probably would have done.’ Marina smiled, but her eyes held a trace of anxiety. ‘Was it really that awful?’
‘The first time I had to step off that platform, with nothing but a bit of webbing and a rope between me and a huge drop, I wanted to kill him,’ Abigail admitted, and they all laughed. ‘But then—once I’d actually done it, it was fun. The second time round was a lot better.’
‘Good.’ Marina rested her hand briefly on Abigail’s arm. ‘I’ve been feeling terrible all weekend, thinking that we pushed you into offering that date. I had no idea that Lewis was going to bid for you.’
‘Neither did I,’ Abigail said dryly.
‘He’s a nice guy,’ Sydney said. ‘As a colleague, he’s totally reliable at work and he’s good company on team nights out. But, um, maybe I should warn you that when it comes to his personal life, he doesn’t do commitment.’
‘Three dates and you’re out. So I heard,’ Abigail said. Though she knew that Lewis did do commitment, at least where his family was concerned. He was really close to his sisters and his niece. Though, now she thought of it, he hadn’t had any pictures of his parents on display in his flat. Which was odd.
And why would someone who was close to his family be so wary of risking his heart? Had someone broken it, years ago?
Though it was none of her business.
They were just colleagues. Possibly starting to become friends. Though she wasn’t going to tell Marina and Sydney that they were going to the concert together later in the week. She didn’t want them to get the wrong idea.
Once they’d queued up at the counter and bought their lunch, they found a quiet table in the canteen.
‘So are you going to see Lewis again?’ Marina asked.
‘Considering that we work in the same department, I’d say there’s a good chance of seeing him in Resus or what have you, depending on the roster,’ Abigail said lightly.
‘That isn’t what I meant.’
Abigail smiled. ‘I know. But we’re colleagues, Marina. He only bid for that date because—well, he said he was trying to persuade me to do more things with the team.’
‘Helping you settle in. Fixing things.’ Sydney looked thoughtful. ‘Actually, Lewis is like that. He sees something that maybe could work better if it was done differently, and he fixes it.’ She smiled. ‘Well, I guess that’s why we all chose this career. We’re fixers.’
‘Definitely,’ Abigail said, and was relieved when the discussion turned away from Lewis. By the end of the lunch break she found herself really enjoying the company of the other two doctors. They weren’t like the mean girls who’d made her life a misery at school. They were nice.
‘I’d better get back,’ she said when she’d finished her coffee.
‘Me, too,’ Marina said. She winked at Sydney. ‘It’s all right for you part-timers.’
Sydney just laughed. ‘It’s fun being a lady who lunches. Well, at least part time. I’d never give up work totally because I’d miss it too much. I’ve enjoyed today. Let’s make it a regular thing,’ she suggested. ‘I work Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Which of those days is best for you, Abby?’
The same diminutive Lewis had used. Something that had never happened in previous hospitals—she’d always been Dr Smith or Abigail. But here at the London Victoria it was different. There was much more of a sense of the department members being a team. Being friends outside work. And Marina and Sydney were offering her precisely that: friendship. For her own sake, rather than because she was Keith Brydon’s daughter—as people had in the past whenever her identity had leaked out.
For once in her life Abigail was actually fitting in. It felt weird; but it felt good. And she didn’t want that feeling to stop.
‘How about Wednesdays?’ Abigail asked.
‘Excellent. Wednesday at twelve it is, patients permitting—and if one of us is held up, the others will save a space at the table,’ Marina said with a smile. ‘It’s a date.’
Abigail didn’t see Lewis all day, even in passing. She’d been rostered in Minors for her shift and according to the departmental whiteboard he was in Resus. She wasn’t sure if she was more relieved that she didn’t have to face him or disappointed that she hadn’t seen him. And it annoyed her that she felt so mixed up about the situation. She’d worked hard and she’d been happy to make the sacrifices in her personal life to get where she wanted to be in her professional life. So why, why, why was she even thinking about dating a man who had commitment issues and wasn’t her type?
She was still brooding about it the next day. Though then it started to get busy in the department.
She picked up her next set of triage notes. Headache and temperature. Normally patients with a simple virus would be treated by the triage nurse and sent home with painkillers and advice. But this wasn’t just a simple case, from the look of the notes: the nurse had written ‘Query opiates’ at the bottom of the page. So the headache and temperature could be part of a reaction to whatever drug the patient had taken.
‘Eddie McRae?’ she called.
An ashen-faced man walked up the corridor, supported by another man.
She introduced herself swiftly. ‘So you have a headache and temperature, Mr McRae?’
‘Eddie,’ he muttered. ‘I feel terrible.’
‘Have you been in contact with anyone who has a virus?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think so.’
So it could be withdrawal or a bad reaction to the drugs he’d taken. His breathing was fast, she noticed. ‘Can I take your pulse?’
‘Sure.’
His pulse was also fast, so Eddie could well be suffering from sepsis.
‘Have you taken anything?’ she asked gently.
This time Eddie didn’t say a word, and she had a pretty good idea why.