To just be.
And, of course, just a moment later she recalled why she couldn’t just be.
Alison looked up then to green eyes that awaited her response, that could never guess the inner turmoil inside her, who assumed, that for Alison, it was as easy as making a decision and grabbing her bag.
She shook her head and with good reason. Coogee was teeming with holidaymakers, with good-looking, testosterone-laden, ‘here for a good time not a long time’ males, and even if he was gorgeous, Nick could never be any different.
‘No, thanks.’
‘Hey, Nick!’ Moira’s radar located them and rather unsteadily she teetered towards them. ‘We’re heading into town…’
Alison didn’t wait to see if Nick was joining them. Instead she said goodnight, gathered her bag and walked, not along the street but along a beach that was dotted with small groups and some couples, and it was a relief to be out of there and a relief to be alone.
He was dangerous.
At least, he was to someone like her.
He had been flirting—oh, not anything major, but his glorious attention had homed in on her, more than a touch. She was quite sure that Nick did want to get to know her a little better—which, to Alison, just seemed pointless. He’d be gone in a few weeks, he was just there for some fun, which Alison didn’t readily do.
Why, she asked herself as she walked along the beach she knew and loved, couldn’t she be like Ellie, or Moira—just out there having fun, without worrying about tomorrow?
Her phone buzzed in her bag and she didn’t need to check it to know it was from her mother. It was fifteen minutes after midnight after all.
‘I just texted you!’ Rose said as she walked in the door. ‘I just wanted to know if you were going to be late.’
‘I said I’d call if I was.’
‘Well, it is after midnight.’
‘Well, it is after midnight.’ For a shadow of a second, she could almost hear Tim’s voice, could almost picture her brother standing right where she was in the kitchen, good-naturedly teasing Rose when he came in late at night and Rose complained.
Except there had been Dad then to argue his case for him and, anyway, Tim had a way to him that always won their mum around.
God, but she missed him.
And her father too.
Missed, not just the people but the family they had been then, the security the others had provided, unnoticed at the time, the certainty they were there for each other, which had all been ripped away. So instead of a smart retort Alison looked instead at the fear in her mother’s eyes and apologised for not texting and had a cup of tea and a chat with her mum, till Rose headed off for bed.
Then later, alone, when surely all her friends were still out, she went on the computer and checked her social network profile. She had one friend request and, yes, it was from Nick. He must befriend everyone, Alison decided, but she did click on his name, hoping for another little peek at his profile, except that, apart from his photo, all the rest of the photos and information were private.
She went to accept his friend request and for a moment her finger hovered, then she chose to ignore it.
Very deliberately she ignored it, even if they did have eighteen mutual friends between them.
It was one a.m. on a Saturday after all.
A girl had some pride.
‘ARE you okay?’
They were waiting for a multi-trauma at eight a.m. on Monday morning. The sky was black with a storm and the roads like ice after a long dry spell. Alison was in Resus this morning and so too was Nick. She’d said good morning at the bus stop, then moved to her regular seat. Ignored him in the staffroom that morning, her head buried in the crossword, but now they stood on opposite sides of the trauma bed, all set up and gowned up, waiting for the patients to arrive, though they were taking longer to get there than anticipated and Alison was quiet.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Look, about the other night…’
‘What about the other night?’ She frowned over her mask to him.
‘I got waylaid by Moira and then you’d gone.’
‘I’m not even thinking about that—I just hate getting kids in.’
Yes, it happened day in and day out, but some days you just hated it so and Nick, cool, confident Nick, actually coloured up a little bit, because for once, with a woman, it wasn’t about him. He’d awoken slightly disconcerted on Saturday, and had spent the rest of the day trying ignore a niggle. He’d swum, walked for a while, but had ended up at a cemetery that was, strange as it might sound, both fascinating and beautiful, and then back to the flat, where that niggle had developed a name as he’d checked his social network profile and, no, she hadn’t responded to that request either.
‘ETA five minutes!’ Sheila called, and he watched as Alison blinked twice.
‘They’re taking ages.’
‘Rush-hour.’
‘It’s still ages.’
‘It might not be that bad,’ Nick said. ‘We’re set up for everything; we’ll worry, if we need to, when they get here.’
It was actually very good advice and Alison gave a thin smile. ‘Is that what you do?’
‘I try to,’ Nick replied. ‘Right now I’m trying to work out seven down—begins with L, ends in E, recurring.’
‘Life,’ Alison said, and he grinned. ‘I’m stuck on it too.’
‘How’s the flat-hunting?’ he asked. ‘Any luck?’
And she was about to shrug, to get back to worrying about the family that was coming in, but Nick was right. Until they arrived there was no point, so instead she followed his lead.
‘Actually, yes!’ She’d sworn not to get her hopes up, not to say a word, but she was so delighted she couldn’t help herself. ‘I got a phone call from a real estate agent about a flat, and though it’s not officially on the market yet, he’s arranging an inspection. It’s within my price range and they want a quick sale…It all sounds a bit too good to be true.’
‘It might be your time for some good luck.’
‘How was the rest of your weekend?’ Alison asked, because, well, she was interested and she wanted to get back to normal with him and he was so easy to talk to. ‘Any surfing?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t quite call it surfing, but I did manage to get up and stay up for about half a second. It was great…’ He stopped in mid-sentence as a siren blared the first ambulance’s arrival. ‘Okay,’ Nick said, ‘now we can get back to worrying.’
Her name was Polly and she was seven and petrified and on a trauma board, her head strapped down. She was so scared that she wasn’t even crying.
‘Hi, there, Polly.’ Nick smiled down at her. ‘I’m Nick, I’m a doctor. You’re having a rotten morning, aren’t you?’ He spoke reassuringly to her as he rapidly examined her while Alison transferred the oxygen tubes. The paramedics had started an IV and were