needed tonight was to have her parents criticised but, honestly, two more unhelpful, inflexible people you could not meet. Maurice and Betty Joyce just closed their eyes to the chaos their youngest daughter created and left it all for Bridgette to sort out.
‘How do you feel?’ Jasmine asked as, dressed in a guilty purchase, make-up done and high heels on, Bridgette surveyed herself in the mirror.
‘Twenty-six.’ Bridgette grinned at her own reflection, liking, for once, what she saw. Gone was the exhausted woman from earlier—instead she literally glowed and not with sweat either. No, it was the sheer silver dress she had bought that did the most amazing things to her rather curvy figure, and the heavenly new blusher that had wiped away the last remnants of fatigue in just a few glittery, peachy strokes.
‘And single,’ Jasmine nudged.
‘Staying single,’ Bridgette said. ‘The last thing I want is a relationship.’
‘Doesn’t have to be a relationship,’ Jasmine replied, but gave in with a small laugh. ‘It does with you, though.’ She looked at her friend. ‘Paul was a complete bastard, you know.’
‘I know.’ She did not want to talk about it.
‘Better to find out now than later.’
‘I know that,’ Bridgette snapped. She so did not want to talk about it—she didn’t even want to think about it tonight—but thankfully Jasmine had other things on her mind.
‘Ooh, I wonder if Dominic will be there. He’s sex on legs, that guy…’ Even though she was blissfully happy with Vince, Jasmine still raved about the paediatric locum registrar, Dominic Mansfield.
‘You’re just about to fly off to Africa with your boyfriend.’ Bridgette grinned. ‘Should you be noticing such things?’
‘I can still look.’ Jasmine sighed. ‘Honestly, you can’t help looking when Dominic’s around—he’s gorgeous. He just doesn’t belong in our hospital. He should be on some glamorous soap or something…Anyway, I was thinking of him more for you.’
‘Liar. From what you’ve told me about Dominic, he’s not the relationship kind.’
‘Well, he must have been at some point—he was engaged before he came to Melbourne. Mind you, he wouldn’t do for you at all. He hardly speaks. He’s quite arrogant really,’ Jasmine mused. ‘Anyway, enough about all that. Look at you.’ She smiled at her friend in the mirror. ‘Gorgeous, single, no commitments…You’re allowed to have fun, you know.’
Except Bridgette did have commitments, even if no one could really understand them. It was those commitments that had her double-check that she had her phone in her bag. She didn’t feel completely single—more she felt like a single mum with her child away on an access visit. Courtney and Harry had lived with her for a year and it had ended badly, and though she spoke little to Courtney now, she was an extremely regular babysitter.
She missed him tonight.
But, she reminded herself, he wasn’t hers to miss.
Still, it was nice to be out and to catch up with everyone. They all put in some money for drinks, but unfortunately it was Jasmine who chose the wine and it was certainly a case of quantity over quality. Bridgette took a sip—she was far from a wine snob, but it really was awful and she sat on one drink all night.
‘When are you coming back to us?’ was the cry from her ex-colleagues.
‘I’m not sure,’ Bridgette responded. ‘Soon, I hope.’
Yes, it was a good night; it just wasn’t the same as it once had been.
She wasn’t one of them any more.
She had no idea who they were talking about when they moaned about someone called Rita—how she took over in a birth, how much her voice grated. There had been a big drama last week apparently, which they were now discussing, of which Bridgette knew nothing. Slipping her phone out of her bag, she checked it, relieved to see that there were no calls, but even though she wasn’t needed, even though she had nowhere else to be right now, the night was over for her.
She wasn’t a midwife any more, or at best she was an occasional one—she went wherever the agency sent her. Bridgette was about to say goodbye to Jasmine, to make a discreet exit, when she was thwarted by some late arrivals, whom Jasmine marched her over to, insisting that she say hello.
‘This is Rita, the new unit manager.’ Jasmine introduced the two women. ‘And, Rita, this is Bridgette Joyce. She used to work with us. We’re trying to persuade her to come back. And this is…’ He really needed no introduction, because Bridgette looked over and fell into very black eyes. The man stood apart from the rest and looked a bit out of place in the rather tacky bar, and, yes, he was as completely stunning as Jasmine had described. His black hair was worn just a little bit long and swept backwards to reveal a face that was exquisite. He was tall, slim and wearing black trousers and a fitted white shirt. He was, quite simply, divine. ‘This is Dominic,’ Jasmine introduced, ‘our locum paediatrician.’
He didn’t look like a paediatrician—oh, she knew she shouldn’t label people so, but as he nodded and said hello he didn’t look in the least like a man who was used to dealing with children. Jasmine was right—he should be on a soap, playing the part of a pretend doctor, or…She imagined him more a surgeon, a cosmetic surgeon perhaps, at some exclusive private practice.
‘Can I get anyone a drink?’ He was very smooth and polite, and there was no hint of an accent, but with such dark looks she wondered if his forebears were Italian perhaps, maybe Greek. He must have caught her staring, and when he saw that she didn’t have a glass, he spoke directly to her. ‘Bridgette, can I get you anything?’
‘Not for me, thanks, I’m—’ She was just about to say that she was leaving when Jasmine interrupted her.
‘You don’t need to buy a drink, Dominic. We’ve got loads.’ Jasmine toddled over to their loud table and poured him a glass of vinegary wine and one for Bridgette too, and then handed them over. ‘Come on.’ Jasmine pushed, determined her friend would unwind. ‘Drink up, Bridgette.’
He was terribly polite because he accepted it graciously and took a sip of the drink and managed not to wince. But as Bridgette took a tiny sip, she did catch his eye, and there was a hint of a shared smile, if it could even be called that.
‘It’s good that you could make it, Dominic.’ Vince came over. He had just today finished his paediatric rotation, and Bridgette had worked with him on Maternity for a while before she’d left. ‘I know that it hasn’t been a great day.’
She watched as Dominic gave a brief nod, gave practically nothing back to that line of conversation—instead, he changed the subject. ‘So,’ he asked, ‘when do you fly?’
‘Monday night,’ Vince said, and spoke a little about the project he was joining.
‘Well,’ said Dominic, ‘all the best with it.’
He really didn’t waste words, did he? Bridgette thought as Jasmine polished her cupid’s bow and happily took Vince’s hand and wandered off, leaving Bridgette alone with him and trying not to show just how awkward she felt.
‘Careful,’ she said as his glass
