Alison had moved out at eighteen to share a house with some other nursing students but at the end of her training, just as she’d been about to set off for a year of travel that her mother had pleaded she didn’t take, her brother and father had died in an accident. Of course, she had moved straight back home, but though it had seemed right and necessary at the time, three years on Alison was beginning to wonder if her being there was actually hindering her mother from moving on. House-sharing no longer appealed and so the rather fruitless search for her own place had commenced.
‘There are a couple of places I’ve seen that are nice and in my price range,’ Alison sighed, ‘but they’re miles from the beach.’
‘You’re a nurse…’ Ellie laughed. ‘You can’t afford bay views.’
‘I don’t need a view,’ Alison grumbled, ‘but walking distance to the beach at least…’ She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she was so used to having the beach a five-minute walk away that it was going to be harder to give up than coffee.
‘I’m on Alison’s side.’ Nick joined right in with the conversation. ‘I’m flat-sitting for a couple I know while they’re back in the UK.’ He told her the location and Alison let out a low whistle because anything in that street was stunning. ‘It’s pretty spectacular. I’ve never been a beach person, but I’m walking there every morning or evening—and sitting on the balcony at night…’
‘It’s not just the view, though,’ Alison said. They were walking through Emergency now. ‘It’s just…’ She didn’t really know how to explain it. It wasn’t just the beach either—it was her walks on the cliffs, her coffee from the same kiosk in the morning, her cherry and ricotta strudel at her favourite café. She didn’t want to leave it, her mother certainly didn’t want her to leave either, but, unless she was going to live at home for ever, unless she was going to be home by midnight every night or constantly account for her movements, she wanted somewhere close enough to home but far enough to live her own life.
‘I’m going to get a drink before…’ He gave her a smile as they reached the female change rooms. ‘I look forward to working with you.’
‘Told you!’ Ellie breathed as they closed the doors. ‘I told you, didn’t I?’
‘You did,’ Alison agreed, tying up her long brown hair and pulling on her lanyard. ‘Have you got my stethoscope?’
‘That’s all that you’ve got to say?’
‘Ellie, yes, you did tell me and, yes, for once you haven’t exaggerated. He’s completely stunning, but right now I need my stethoscope back.’ She certainly didn’t need to be dwelling on the gorgeous Nick Roberts who was there for just a few weeks and already had every woman completely under his spell.
‘Here.’ Ellie handed back the stethoscope she had yet again borrowed. ‘Have a look at him on Facebook—there’s one of him bungee-jumping and he’s upside down and his T-shirt’s round his neck…’ Ellie grinned as Alison rolled her eyes. ‘There’s no harm in looking.’
Ellie raced off to the staffroom, ready to catch up on all the gossip, and for a moment Alison paused, catching sight of her reflection—brown hair, serious brown eyes, neat figure, smart navy pants and white top. Her image just screamed sensible. Too sensible by far for the likes of Nick. Yes, he was a fine specimen and all that, but he also knew it and Alison was determined not to give him the satisfaction of joining his rather large throng of admirers.
He was sitting in the staffroom as he had on the bus, with his long legs sprawled out, drinking a large mug of tea and leading the conversation as if he’d been there for years instead of one week, regaling them all with his exploits—the highlight a motorbike ride through the outback—which did nothing to impress Alison. In fact, the very thought made her shudder and prompted a question.
‘How is that guy from last week?’ Alison turned to Ellie. ‘Did you follow him up?’
‘What one?’
‘Just as I went off last Sunday—the young guy on the motorbike?’ And then she stopped, realising it sounded rude, perhaps a touch inappropriate given Nick’s subject matter, though she hadn’t meant it to. Nick had just reminded her to ask.
‘We didn’t have any ICU beds,’ one of the other staff answered, ‘so he was transferred.’
‘Thanks,’ Alison said, looking up at the clock, and so did everyone else, all heading out for handover.
She really didn’t want to like him.
He unsettled her for reasons she didn’t want to examine and she hoped he was horrible to work with—arrogant, or dismissive with the patients. Unfortunately, he was lovely.
‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time,’ she heard him say to some young surfer who had cut his arm on the rocks. Nick was stitching as Alison came in to give the young man his tetanus shot. ‘I want to cram in as much as I can while I’m here.’
‘Come down in the morning,’ surfer boy said. ‘I’ll give you some tips.’
‘Didn’t I just tell you to keep the wound clean and dry? ‘Nick admonished, and then grinned. ‘I guess salt water’s good for it, though. I’ll look forward to it.’
‘You’re going surfing with him?’ Alison blinked.
‘He lives near me and who better to teach me than a local?’ Nick said. ‘Do you?’
‘Do I what?’
‘Surf.’
Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Because I’m Australian?’
‘No,’ he said slowly, those green eyes meeting hers. ‘Because you want to.’ And she stood there for a moment, felt her cheeks darken, felt for just a moment as if he was looking at her, not staid, sensible Alison but the woman she had once been, or rather the woman she had almost become, the woman who was in there, hiding.
‘If I wanted to, I would,’ Alison replied, and somehow, despite the wobble in her soul, her voice was even. ‘I’ve got a beach on my doorstep after all.’
‘I guess,’ Nick said, but she could almost hear his tongue in his cheek. ‘I’ll let you know what it’s like.’
His assumption irritated her, perhaps more than it should have, but she wasn’t going to dwell on it. She’d save a suitable come-back for later—perhaps this time tomorrow morning when she was stitching his forehead after his board hit him, Alison thought, taking the next patient card from the pile.
‘Louise Haversham?’ Alison called out to the waiting room, and when there was no answer she called the name again.
‘Two minutes!’ came the answer, a pretty blonde holding up her hand at Alison’s interruption and carrying on her conversation on her phone, but perhaps realising that Alison was about to call the next name on the list she concluded her call and walked with Alison to a cubicle.
‘How long have you had toothache for?’ Alison asked, checking Louise’s temperature and noting it on her card.
‘Well, it’s been niggling for a couple of weeks but it woke me up at four and I couldn’t get back to sleep.’
‘Have you seen your dentist?’ Alison asked, and Louise shook her head.
‘I’ve been too busy—I’m working two jobs.’ She glanced up at the clock. ‘How long will the doctor be? I’m supposed to be at work at nine.’
Then Alison had better hurry the doctor along!
‘Who’s next?’ Nick asked cheerfully. ‘A nice motorbike crash,