‘I really need to sort out my flat.’ She did. ‘I’ve been putting it off for ages.’
‘I know,’ Dominic said. ‘Look, why don’t I come round a couple of nights in the week and help with those shelves?’
‘You!’ She actually laughed. ‘Will you bring your drill?’ She saw his tongue roll in his cheek. ‘Bring your stud finder…’ she said, and dug him in the ribs. He would be as hopeless as her, Dominic realised. After all, his dad had never been one for DIY—he wouldn’t know how to change a washer. But it wasn’t the shelves that were the real problem. Yes, it would be so much easier to talk about stud finders, to laugh and to roll into each other as they wanted to, but instead he asked her again.
‘If I can’t do it—’ he had visions of her being knocked unconscious in the night by his handiwork ‘—then I will get someone in and those shelves will be put up on your return,’ he said. ‘But it really would be nice to go away.’
‘I can’t,’ she said, because she simply could not bear to be so far away from Harry. Courtney’s silence was worrying her and it couldn’t be ignored; also, she couldn’t bear to get any closer to Dominic. To open up her heart again—especially to a man who would soon be moving away.
‘Look, I have to go back this weekend.’
‘Go, then!’ Bridgette said. ‘I’m not stopping you. I’m just saying that I can’t come.’
‘You could!’ he said. He could see the dominos all lined up, so many times he’d halted them from falling, and he was halting them now, because when talking didn’t work he tried to kiss sense into her. She could feel her breasts flatten against his chest and the heady male scent of him surrounding her, and she kissed him back ferociously. It was as close as they had come to a row: they were going to have a row in a moment and she truly didn’t want one, knew that neither did he. This way was easier, this way was better, this simply had to happen, because somehow they both knew it was the last time.
He kissed her face and her ears, he pushed her knees apart and they were well past condoms now. He slid into her tight warmth, went to the only place she would come with him and she did. They both did.
It was a regretful orgasm, if there was such a thing, because it meant it was over. It meant they had to climb back out of the place where things were so simple.
‘I think a weekend away would be great.’ He tried again. He’d heard the first click of the dominos falling and still he was trying to halt them. ‘I think we need to get away. Look, if you don’t want to go to Sydney…’ He didn’t want to let down Chris, didn’t want to reschedule the interview, but he didn’t want things to end here. He wanted to give them a chance. ‘We could drive. There’s a few places I want to see along the coast…’
‘I can’t this weekend,’ she said. ‘I told you, I’ve got the flat to sort out. Courtney’s still upset…’
‘Well, when can you?’ And he let them fall. ‘I want to get away on my days off.’ He really did—it had been a helluva weekend at work. He wanted to be as far away from the hospital as possible this next weekend, didn’t want to be remotely available, because he knew that if they called, he’d go in. What was he thinking, driving to the coast when he had an interview, letting down Chris? For what? So that they could stay in and wait for her sister to ring?
‘Look, I know you help out your sister…’ He simply did not understand her. In so many things they were open, there were so many things they discussed, but really he knew so little about her. There was still a streak of hurt in her eyes, still a wall of silence around her. ‘But surely you can have a weekend off.’
‘Maybe I don’t want one,’ Bridgette said. ‘Maybe I don’t want to go up to Sydney and to see the life you’ll soon be heading back to.’
‘Bridgette…’ He was trying to prolong things, not end them. ‘I don’t get you.’
‘You’re not supposed to, that’s not what we’re about.’ It wasn’t, she told herself. It was supposed to be just a few short weeks—a break, a romance, that was all. It was better over with now. ‘Just go to Sydney,’ Bridgette said. ‘That’s what you want, that’s where you’ve always been heading. Don’t try and blame us ending on Harry.’
‘I’m not blaming Harry,’ Dominic said, and he wasn’t. ‘I’ll admit I was a bit fed up with his aunt on Friday.’
‘Sorry to mess up your night.’ She so wasn’t going to do this again. ‘God, you’re just like—’
‘Don’t say it, Bridgette,’ Dominic warned, ‘because I am nothing like him.’ He’d heard a bit about her ex and wasn’t about to be compared to Paul. ‘I’ll tell you one of the differences between him and me. I’d have had this sorted from the start. Your sister’s using you, Bridgette.’ He looked at her, all tousled and angry, and truly didn’t know what this was about.
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
‘So why do you let her?’ He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘Do you know, I think you hide behind Harry. He’s your excuse not to go out, not to get away.’ Bridgette was right, Sydney was where he’d always intended to be—that was his hospital of choice and he wasn’t about to have his career dictated to by Courtney.
‘I’m going for the interview. I’m flying out on Thursday night. I’ll text you the flight times. We’ll be back Sunday night.’
‘Don’t book a ticket for me,’ Bridgette said. ‘Because I can’t go.’
‘Yes, you can. And, yes, I am booking for you,’ Dominic said. ‘So you’ve plenty time to change your mind.’
He did book the tickets.
But he knew she wouldn’t come.
‘SORRY to call you down from NICU.’ Rebecca, the accident and emergency registrar, looked up from the notes she was writing. It was four a.m. on Tuesday morning. It had been a long day for Dominic and a very long night on call. After the interviews in Sydney and long walks on the beach with Chris, his head felt as if it was exploding, not that Rebecca could have guessed it. He was his usual practical self. ‘I’m trying to stall Mum by saying we’re waiting for an X-ray.’
‘No problem. What do we know so far?’
‘Well, the story is actually quite consistent—Mum heard a bang and found him on the floor. He’d climbed out if his cot, which fits the injury. She said that he was crying by the time she went in to him. It was her reaction that was strange—complete panic, called an ambulance. She was hysterical when she arrived but she’s calmed down.’
‘Are there any other injuries you can see?’
‘A couple of small bruises, an ear infection, he’s a bit grubby and there’s a bit of nappy rash,’ Rebecca said, ‘but he is a toddler, after all. Anyway, I’m just not happy and I thought you should take a look.’ She handed him the patient card and as Dominic noted the name, as his stomach seemed to twist in on itself, a young woman called from the cubicle.
‘How much longer are we going to be waiting here?’ She peered out and all Dominic could think was that if he had not recognised the name, it would never have entered his head that this woman was Bridgette’s sister. She had straggly dyed blond hair and was much skinnier. Her features were sharper than Bridgette’s and even if she wasn’t shouting, she was such an angry young thing, so hostile in her actions, so on the edge, that she was, Dominic recognised in an instant, about to explode any moment. ‘How much longer till he gets his X-ray or CT or whatever?’
‘There’s another doctor here to take a look