when he was over?’
Frankie swallowed hard. ‘Not yet…You know he had to go back to South America unexpectedly when the manager of the factory died, so he was only here for a few days.’ She bit her lip and looked sadly at her friend, then added slowly, ‘Actually, I’ve just had a letter. He…he doesn’t know when he can come home—and he doesn’t want me to go out there because of the unrest in that area at the moment. And…well, there is something more…’
Her voice trailed off and Corey put her hand sympathetically on Frankie’s arm. ‘I’m so sorry, Frankie. Here am I, rabbiting on about my ghastly evening and you’ve got worries of your own. You must be fed up.’
Frankie pushed the letter towards Corey. ‘Read the last part,’ she said. ‘It was quite a shock I can tell you.’
‘Not before I get us both a drink,’ declared her friend, jumping up from the bench. ‘I have a feeling it’s bad news and after the day we’ve had in A and E we need a pick-me-up—preferably alcoholic!’
She pushed her way through the crowded bar and Frankie leant back on her seat and closed her eyes for a second, propping her tired legs up on the table crossbar to relieve the pressure on her feet. It had been a long day in Casualty and she wasn’t at all sure that coming to the crowded smoky atmosphere of the Drover’s Arms had been the best idea, especially after reading Damian’s letter. Perhaps the full import of it hadn’t hit her yet because she felt rather numb, detached almost from what Damian had said.
Corey returned with two white wine spritzers and looked at Frankie’s pale face and the dark rings under her eyes. ‘You look knackered Frankie—have a swig of this,’ she declared, handing over the drink.
‘I do feel shattered,’ admitted Frankie. ‘But you must be as well—we were run off our feet after dealing with that multiple RTA this afternoon. We’re so short-staffed at the moment, especially now Larry Higson’s left.’
‘Yeah, it’s a shame about Larry taking off. It can’t be much fun for you, being the only registrar on the unit sometimes. Anyway, help is at hand—someone’s coming in his place tomorrow. I met him at lunchtime.’
Frankie raised her brows. ‘I’m glad to hear that, but how come I’m the last to find out? Do we know who it is—anyone local?’
Corey shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. Jack someone or other—wants to get a consultancy in A and E. Must be mad!’
‘Jack?’ A momentary flicker of interest. ‘Do you know his surname?’
‘No idea, but he’s a bit of all right.’ Corey giggled. ‘Perhaps he’s a better bet than speed-dating. Think you know him?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. I did work with someone called Jack at my last job, but he disappeared quite suddenly and there must be hundreds of registrars with that name.’
Jack Herrick, Damian’s brother-in-law… Frankie sighed. She still hadn’t got over the extraordinary shock when Jack had left without warning, not even staying to see Damian who had been due to come home the following week. It had been a complete mystery as to why Jack should have gone without saying a word to her, just a cursory note left pinned on her locker at work and a brief mention of hoping to see her again, probably at her wedding to Damian. Later she’d heard on the grapevine that he’d become engaged, which had surprised her as she had not known he had even wanted to go out with anyone after losing Sue.
There was no doubt that Jack’s abrupt departure without explanation had hurt. He’d been a comforting link with Damian. She’d thought their mutual support system had helped them both—he’d been like a rock when Damian had had to go abroad and sort out the old family business, a shoulder to cry on, in fact. In turn, he’d talked to her about his little girl, and the difficulties involved in being a widower with a child. They’d worked together at the large casualty department at St Mary’s hospital, thirty miles from the infirmary, and Frankie was sure she’d developed a close and relaxed friendship with him. After all, she was going to be a part of his family in that she was marrying his brother-in-law. It had been a slap in the face when he’d just disappeared without even the courtesy of a goodbye.
She gave a mental shrug of dismissal as Corey’s voice broke into her thoughts. All that was history—she was at another hospital now and only concerned with the present and what Damian had written to her.
‘Now, let me see this letter—looks as if it’s upset you,’ said Corey.
Frankie held it out. ‘You’ll see why when you read it, but I’d rather the whole department didn’t know yet.’
Corey looked scornfully at her friend. ‘As if,’ she protested. ‘You know me better than that.’
Her eyes widened as she scanned the sheet of paper, then she put down the letter and whistled softly, shaking her head and looking in disbelief at Frankie. ‘Oh, God, Frankie, I don’t believe this—he must be mad! He can’t mean all that about not wanting to be engaged any more,’ she added vehemently. ‘He loved you, wanted to marry you. There must be some reason for him to break it off so suddenly.’
Frankie shrugged, and although she tried to keep her voice light, there was a bitter edge to her words. ‘I thought he loved me, too. When he came over he gave me the impression that he couldn’t bear to leave me…’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I must have missed something, mustn’t I?’
Corey looked at her friend, full of sympathy. ‘Why didn’t he tell you when he was over here? Too bloody cowardly by half. He left it until he’d gone back—the rat!’
‘Perhaps he was just trying to do the right thing by me,’ said Francesca flatly. ‘He won’t be back for at least a year and maybe he doesn’t want to tie me down for all that time…’
‘Tie himself down more like,’ said Corey cynically. ‘What do you really think, Frankie?’
Frankie stared down at the letter on the table in front of her then looked up at Corey. ‘I think you’re right,’ she admitted. ‘It’s him that wants to be free, although he doesn’t mention that there’s anyone else. Anyway, what’s the point of being engaged to someone if they don’t love you any more? I would like to know the truth, though—why he’s suddenly dumped me…’
She felt tears pressing against her eyes and took a long drink to quell the telltale sobs that threatened to choke her. Corey was right—why hadn’t he had the guts to tell her when they had been together? She felt a hollow empty feeling of rejection coupled with a gathering anger that he’d never hinted that his feelings for her might have changed. It was all so sudden, out of the blue.
‘What will you do?’ asked Corey, putting her arm round Frankie and hugging her comfortingly.
Frankie pulled a snapshot out of her pocket and scanned it bleakly. ‘I can’t kill the man,’ she said in an attempt at humour, ‘but I’m going to have to put him out of my mind somehow…’
Corey looked over her shoulder at the picture. ‘Yeah—he’s drop-dead gorgeous all right, but he must be a moron to let someone like you go.’ She scanned Frankie’s heart-shaped face, framed by thick chestnut hair, and grinned at her. ‘It’s my bet that within the year another twenty men will be after you!’
Frankie tightened her lips and tore the photo into little pieces. ‘I doubt it, Corey, and I can tell you that at this moment
