when we were white-water rafting—at great risk to his own life. From that point of view I guess I found him very reliable. But this… I can’t understand it. He told me he was mad about you.’
Jack stared at her, his eyes holding hers, something unreadable in their bright blue depths behind the studious-looking glasses. Frankie looked at his tall figure leaning against the cupboard, his arms crossed over his chest and the hospital greens he was wearing open at the neck. Quite suddenly she realised for the first time just how damned attractive Jack was. It was utterly ridiculous, especially in the circumstances of having just been dumped by someone she’d thought was the love of her life. Of course, she’d always considered Jack a good-looking man, but quiet and unassuming. Damian was the type of man who held the floor, enjoyed being the life and soul of the party—Jack always seemed to be an amused onlooker. Her assessment of Jack had been sisterly, regarding him as an easygoing and sympathetic companion.
Now she realised that Jack’s diffident manner seemed to emphasise his appeal, and she suddenly understood that many girls would find him extremely sexy. She remembered Corey had found him drop-dead gorgeous…
With an effort she turned away sharply, giving the worktop another good polish to allow herself time to recover. How shallow could you get? She’d just been dumped by his brother-in-law, hadn’t she? She wasn’t supposed to have weak-at-the-knee feelings for other men!
‘Let’s change the subject,’ she said lightly. ‘I heard somewhere that you’d got engaged recently. When’s the happy day?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘I’m afraid that bit the dust as well. My fault—I got engaged for the wrong reasons far too quickly and it was never going to work out.’
She turned to him, genuine sympathy on her face. ‘Oh, dear, you felt it was too soon after Sue’s death?’
He looked down at the floor for a moment, his fists clenching together at his sides. ‘That could be the reason,’ he murmured.
‘Better to find out now than later,’ comforted Frankie.
Jack nodded, watching her as she folded the dishcloth and hung it over the taps. ‘Absolutely. Getting entangled in the wrong relationship is madness—it can ruin your life. One should be totally sure you’ve got the right person.’
Frankie picked up her bag and her mouth twisted sadly. ‘You don’t have to tell me that, Jack. Perhaps Damian’s done me a favour after all.’ She flicked her hair back from her forehead. ‘Now, tell me about Abby. I suppose she’s at a local school? I have missed her, you know.’
He smiled and pulled out a photograph from his trouser pocket. ‘This is her in her new school uniform—she’s very proud of it.’
Frankie gazed at the photograph he passed her, and said wistfully, ‘She’s grown since I saw her last—inevitable, I suppose. But she looks so sweet and still very young—and very like Sue!’
Jack nodded. ‘Yes, I’m relieved to say she’s taken after her mother in looks. In fact Abby’s the reason I’ve come to Denniston. My parents live here and they want to help me as much as possible with Abby, which will be great. It’s not much fun, coping on your own.’
‘Lovely for them, too, I imagine, to watch their little granddaughter grow up. I’d love to see her again.’
He took off his glass and polished them, then said rather diffidently, ‘Perhaps this is a bit of a cheek, but if you’re interested and have the time, Abby’s got a sports day at school next weekend—I don’t suppose you’d come if you’re not at work? She’d really love you to be there, I know.’
Frankie felt a little leap of pleasure—seeing Abby again would be lovely. Then she hesitated slightly, reluctant to restart a friendship that had seemed to founder so abruptly previously.
She replied lightly, ‘If I’m free, I’d love to come. I’ll let you know nearer the time.’
If he noticed her reserved tone, he didn’t show it. ‘Sure,’ he said easily. ‘I’ll remind you about it.’
Frankie opened the door and looked back at him. ‘I’ll see you next week, then. Now I’m off to have a good sleep—so much has happened today I feel absolutely pole-axed!’
‘I bet you do, Frankie. And I’m so sorry that this has happened.’
‘Don’t be. I’m not going to let it ruin my future—but I would like to know just why the hell Damian suddenly felt he couldn’t love me any more!’
Her eyes bright with unshed tears, Frankie walked quickly out of the room.
* * *
Jack watched Frankie disappear and shook his head in disbelief at what she’d told him. How could Damian have finished with a girl like her—talented, fun, a knockout to look at, but most of all a kindly and generous person? The man was a fool—a restless soul who ran through money, lived life to the full and easily became bored. But even so, he’d thought that when Damian had met Frankie, his friend had found a soulmate.
Jack finished the dregs of his coffee and slumped moodily down in a chair, staring unseeingly at a poster on the wall in front of him that exhorted him to wash his hands. He remembered how thrilled his darling wife Sue had been when her brother had become engaged to Frankie. The two girls had become great friends and extremely close, seeing each other frequently—and, of course, that had helped to forge the friendship he and Frankie had had after Sue’s death.
His thoughts drifted to his friendship with Frankie now and he sighed ruefully. He’d obviously hurt Frankie very much by leaving the last job so abruptly, and it was going to take time to heal the wounds of bruised friendship. Who could blame Frankie for feeling offended when he’d gone without a word of explanation?
Jack picked up a pencil from the worktop and rolled it absently between his fingers. He’d thought he’d acted for the best when he’d left St Mary’s, that he’d had no choice, but he’d handled things clumsily and had ended up jeopardising that friendship. However, after all he’d done to distance himself from her, it seemed that fate had thrown them together again, and he was back to square one—except that now Frankie was a free agent. Would that make life easier between them? He sighed and flung the pencil back on the worktop as he strode out of the room.
* * *
It was Friday afternoon and Jack was scrubbing up in the little anteroom off the small clean theatre in A and E. His patient lay with eyes closed in a face so battered it was hard to tell what sex it was. The cheeks and eyes were swollen, as were the lips, bloodied and twice normal size. Her head had been raised so that there would be the least tension possible on her face.
‘Thanks for helping me out, Frankie,’ said Jack.
‘No worries. We’re reasonably quiet now,’ Frankie replied.
She started to scrub up beside him, lathering the soap well up to her elbows, massaging it between her fingers, trying to ignore the fact that she and Jack were so close together. Uneasily she had to admit that she had begun to think of Jack in a different way since that brief episode in the staff kitchen. Up until now Damian had been the only man who’d attracted her, but now she realised, that far from being a man she’d thought of more as a brother than anything else, Jack was extremely sexy in a quiet and restrained way. She gazed at her troubled face in the mirror above the basin. Her instinct was to
