‘I’m not asking you to understand, you just have to believe that it is hard to get ahead sometimes, and the last thing I need right now is my personal life invading the department.’
‘I’m your sister—’
‘So are you going to be able to stay quiet when the nurses call me a hard witch?’ Penny challenged. ‘And when you are supposed to finish at four but can’t get off, are you going to expect me to drop everything and run to the crèche and get Simon?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And when I hear the other nurses moaning that you hardly ever do a late shift and are complaining about having to do nights, am I supposed to leap to your defence and explain that you’re a single mum?’
‘I can keep my work and personal life separate.’
‘Really!’
It was just one word, a single word, and the rise of Penny’s perfect eyebrows had tears spring to Jasmine’s eyes. ‘That was below the belt.’
‘The fact that you can’t keep your work and personal life separate is the very reason you can’t go back to Melbourne Central.’
‘It’s about the travel,’ Jasmine insisted. ‘And you’re wrong, I can keep things separate.’
‘Not if we’re in the same department.’
‘I can if they don’t know that we’re sisters,’ Jasmine said, and she watched Penny’s jaw tighten, realised then that this was where the conversation had been leading. Penny was always one step ahead in everything, and Penny had made very sure that it was Jasmine who suggested it.
‘It might be better.’ Penny made it sound as if she was conceding.
‘Fine.’
‘Can you keep to it?’
‘Sure,’ Jasmine said.
‘I mean it.’
‘I know you do, Penny.’
‘I’ve got to get back to work. I’m on call tonight.’ And her sister, now that she had what she came for, stood up to leave. Jasmine held in tears that threatened, even managed a smile as her sister stalked out of the door.
But it hurt.
It really hurt.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS HER favourite place in the world.
But even a long stretch of sand, the sun going down over the water and a storm rolling in from the distance wasn’t enough to take the harsh sting out of Penny’s words.
Jasmine hated arguments, loathed them and did her very best to avoid them.
She could still remember all too well hearing the raised voices of her parents seeping up the stairs and through the bedroom floor as she had lain on her bed with her hands over her ears.
But there had been no avoiding this one—Jasmine had known when she’d applied for the role that there would be a confrontation. Still, she couldn’t just bow to Penny’s wishes just because it made things awkward for her.
She needed a job and, no matter what her mother and sister thought of her chosen career, nursing was what she was good at—and Emergency was her speciality.
Jasmine wasn’t going to hide just because it suited Penny.
It had been cruel of Penny to bring up her relationship with Lloyd, cruel to suggest that she wasn’t going back to Melbourne Central just because of what had happened.
It was also, Jasmine conceded, true.
Finding out that she was pregnant had been a big enough shock—but she’d had no idea what was to come.
That the dashing paramedic who’d been so delighted with the news of her pregnancy, who’d insisted they marry and then whisked her off on a three-month honeymoon around Australia, was in fact being investigated for patient theft.
She’d been lied to from the start and deceived till the end and nothing, it seemed, could take away her shame. And, yes, the whispers and sideways looks she had received from her colleagues at Melbourne Central as she’d worked those last weeks of her pregnancy with her marriage falling apart had been awful. The last thing she needed was Penny rubbing it in.
‘I knew I recognised you from somewhere.’ She looked over to the sound of a vaguely familiar voice.
‘Oh!’ Jasmine was startled as she realised who it was. ‘Hi, Jed.’ He was out of breath from running and—she definitely noticed this time—was very, very good looking.
He was wearing grey shorts and a grey T-shirt and he was toned, a fact she couldn’t fail to notice when he lifted his T-shirt to wipe his face, revealing a very flat, tanned stomach. Jasmine felt herself blush as for the first time in the longest time she was shockingly drawn to rugged maleness.
But, then, how could you not be? Jasmine reasoned. Any woman hauled out of a daydream would blink a few times when confronted with him. Any woman would be a bit miffed that they hadn’t bothered sorting their hair and that they were wearing very old denim shorts and a T-shirt splashed with paint.
‘You walk here?’ Jed checked, because now he remembered her. Dark curls bobbing, she would walk—sometimes slowly, sometimes briskly and, he had noticed she never looked up, never acknowledged anyone—she always seemed completely lost in her own world. ‘I see you some mornings,’ Jed said, and then seemed to think about it. ‘Though not for a while.’
‘I live just over there.’ Jasmine pointed to her small weatherboard house. ‘I walk here every chance I get—though I haven’t had too many chances of late.’
‘We’re almost neighbours.’ Jed smiled. ‘I’m in the one on the end.’ He nodded towards the brand-new group of town houses a short distance away that had been built a couple of years ago. Her mother had been the agent in a couple of recent sales there and Jasmine wondered if one of them might have been to him.
And just to remind her that he hadn’t specifically noticed her, he nodded to another jogger who went past, and as they walked along a little way, he said hi to an elderly couple walking their dog. He clearly knew the locals.
‘Taking a break from painting?’ He grinned.
‘How did you guess?’ Jasmine sighed. ‘I don’t know who’s madder—whoever painted the wall green, or me for thinking a couple of layers of white would fix it. I’m on my third coat.’ She looked over at him and then stated the obvious. ‘So you run?’
‘Too much,’ Jed groaned. ‘It’s addictive.’
‘Not for me,’ Jasmine admitted. ‘I tried, but I don’t really know where to start.’
‘You just walk,’ Jed said, ‘and then you break into a run and then walk again—you build up your endurance. It doesn’t take long.’ He smiled. ‘See? I’m addicted.’
‘No, I get it.’ Jasmine grinned back. ‘I just don’t do it.’
‘So, how did you go with the crèche?’ He walked along beside her and Jasmine realised he was probably just catching his breath, probably pacing himself rather than actually stopping for her. Still, it was nice to have a chat.
‘They were really accommodating, though I think Lisa might have had something to do with that.’
‘How old is your child?’
‘Fourteen months,’ Jasmine said. ‘His name’s Simon.’
‘And is this your first job since he was born?’ He actually did seem to want to talk her. Jasmine had expected that he’d soon jog off, but instead he walked along beside her, his breathing gradually