better of her anyway.
‘About a hundred and fifty miles or so. I was in Oxford.’
‘Oxford? How lovely. How will you cope with the rural isolation of Audley?’ she asked with a laugh, and then her mouth, running on without her permission, added, ‘Doesn’t your wife mind?’
‘She might if I had one, but I don’t,’ Adam said lightly.
‘That must make it easier,’ she replied, trying not to smile with delight because he was free, but his next words took the wind right out of her sails.
‘Not really,’ he told her. ‘I’ve got three children under six and a Danish au pair with attitude, and we’ve bought a huge Edwardian house that needs every nook and cranny kicked into shape. Easier it’s not, but I like a challenge.’
She ground to a halt outside the playroom, and turned towards him, guilt prickling her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said sincerely. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude.’
‘You’re not intruding,’ he said with a gentle smile that reassured her slightly. ‘I’m just feeling a little overawed by what I’ve taken on. How about you? Are you married? Single, widowed, divorced, or other, please specify?’
Anna laughed, relief flooding through her at his light-hearted tone. ‘Single,’ she replied. Endlessly. Regrettably.
She never found out what he would have said next, because the playroom door flew open and a child came barrelling through it full pelt and nearly knocked her over. Her hand flew out and grabbed him by the shoulder, steadying him, and she looked down into his sparkling, mischievous eyes and shook her head.
‘You’ll never learn, Karl, will you?’
He grinned. ‘Sorry, Sister. I was in a hurry.’
‘I noticed. That was how this happened in the first place, wasn’t it? Too much of a hurry?’ She eyed him thoughtfully. ‘You’re going to hurt someone with that cast in a minute as well. Do me a favour and go and sit down and do something quiet. You’ll be going up to Theatre later this morning, and you really could do with being calm beforehand.’
‘Perhaps Karl should be our first experiment with the Stryker bed?’ Adam said softly under his breath.
‘What a good idea,’ Anna murmured, eyeing young Karl thoughtfully.
He looked from one to the other, not sure what they were talking about but obviously edgy. ‘What’s a—whatever you said sort of bed?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘You lie in it like the filling in a sandwich, and it turns over from time to time. It’s for keeping people with certain conditions like spinal injuries very still.’
‘Or settling down overactive youngsters,’ Adam added with a smile that belied his words.
‘You’re winding me up,’ Karl said, still not quite sure, and Anna laughed and ruffled his hair.
‘You got it. Go and find something quiet to do, there’s a good lad, and I’ll come and give you your pre-med later.’
He shot off, clearly relieved, and with a smile they headed back towards the kitchen. ‘He’s got a nonunion of the radius after a nasty fracture. They just can’t get it to heal, so they’re going to sort him out in Theatre this morning and probably pack it and plate it. I’m not sure if they’ve decided exactly what they’re doing.’
‘Who’s doing it?’ he asked.
‘Robert Ryder. Have you met him yet?’
Adam shook his head. ‘No. Perhaps I’ll track him down, see if I can observe. Might be interesting.’
‘I’m sure he won’t mind, he’s very approachable. How about that tea now?’ she added as they arrived back at the nursing station by her office. But then the phone rang and it was A and E to say that there was a patient on the way up, a frequent visitor who had suffered yet another serious asthma attack and was now stable but needing observation.
‘Can you hang on?’ she asked him, explaining the case briefly to him. ‘I really need to see to this child, he’s a regular. Or you could help yourself to tea. You’re more than welcome.’
‘I’ll pass. I’ll go and meet the rest of the paediatric team about the hospital, and make a nuisance of myself elsewhere. I might go into the orthopaedic theatres and have a nose around, introduce myself to Ryder and see if I can observe Karl’s op, as I said.’
She felt a pang of what could only have been regret. ‘OK. Maybe next time,’ she suggested, and could have kicked herself for sounding like a breathless virgin. Ridiculous. She was too busy to have tea with him anyway! ‘Have a good day,’ she added with a smile.
‘I’m sure I will—and thanks for the guided tour. I’ll see you tomorrow, no doubt.’
Anna watched him go out of the corner of her eye as she scanned the ward for the most suitable place to put young Toby Cardew, and she suddenly realised that she was looking forward to the next day for the first time in ages.
Gone were the blues she’d felt that morning, replaced by a shiver of anticipation. Adam was apparently unencumbered by a wife, the fact that he had children already was hardly a turn-off to a paediatric nurse and, anyway, the more the merrier.
You’re getting ahead of yourself, she cautioned as she went to sort out a bed for Toby. Just because you think he’s attractive and he asked about your marital status, that doesn’t mean it will go any further—and, anyway, he might have terrible habits. Why did his wife leave him?
She might have died. Perhaps he’s suffering from intractable grief, her alter ego suggested.
Funny. He didn’t look like a man suffering from intractable grief. He just looked tired round the eyes, and, if she hadn’t been mistaken, he’d been interested in her. She hadn’t been mistaken. She knew that look. She’d had plenty of practice at intercepting it over the years.
Too many years, too many times, too many near-misses. The trouble was, the older she got the more likely that the men of her age would be already settled in a permanent relationship—at least, the ones worth having!
Maybe this was one time when she wouldn’t have to fend the man off. Maybe this time the advances, when and if they came, would be welcome. Goodness knows, it’s about time, she thought.
‘Who was that?’
Anna looked round at Allie Baker, her staff nurse and second in command, and wagged a finger.
‘You’ve got one of your own,’ she told her friend.
Allie grinned. ‘I know, and I wouldn’t swap him for the world. I just thought whoever that was was rather gorgeous. So who is he?’
‘Adam Bradbury, our new paediatric orthopaedic surgeon.’
‘I didn’t know we had an old one.’
‘We haven’t,’ Anna replied with a smile, checking forms on the clipboard at the end of the vacant bed. ‘It’s a new post. He’s going to be doing developmental problems and
