was nothing like Arabella.
‘See you, Chris.’ She gave him a wave. ‘Have a great night.’
‘See you, Bridgette,’ he said. ‘Thanks for the cake.
‘We went to a café,’ Chris explained, when she had gone. ‘Is that your girlfriend?’
‘She’s a friend,’ Dominic said.
‘Your girlfriend.’ Chris grinned.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Dominic admitted, ‘but it’s not as simple as that.’ It wasn’t and it was too hard to explain to himself let alone Chris.
There was a reason why holidays rarely lasted more than a few weeks—because any longer than that, you can’t pretend there are no problems. You can’t keep the real world on hold. Perhaps selfishly Dominic had wanted Courtney to leave, wanted to get to know a bit better the woman he had enjoyed dating, but once Chris had gone home, he realised that it wasn’t the same Bridgette when Harry wasn’t around. Over the next few days she couldn’t get hold of Courtney and they were back to the morning after he’d met her—Bridgette constantly checking her phone. There was an anxiety to her that wasn’t right.
He wanted the woman he’d found.
But Bridgette had that bright smile on, the one he had seen when they’d first met. She gave it to him the next Friday afternoon at work as she dropped off a new mum for a cuddle with her baby and he gave her his brief work nod back. Then she stopped by the incubator, as she often did, to speak with Carla.
‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘Good today!’ Carla smiled. ‘Though it all depends on how Francesca is as to how I’m feeling at any moment, but today’s been a good day. Do you want a peek?’ There were drapes over the incubator and when she peeled them back Bridgette was thrilled by the change in the baby. She was still tiny, but her face was visible now, with far fewer tubes. It had been a precarious journey, it still was, but Francesca was still there, fighting.
‘She gave us a fright last week,’ Carla said. ‘They thought she might need surgery on the Friday, but she settled over the weekend. Every day’s a blessing still. I’m getting to hold her now—it’s fantastic. Frank and I are fighting to take turns for a cuddle.’
It was lovely to see Francesca doing so well, but Bridgette’s mind was on other things as she walked back to the ward, and she didn’t hear Dominic till he was at her side.
‘Hi.’ He fell into step beside her. Not exactly chatty, he never was at work, but today neither was she. ‘How’s your shift?’
‘Long,’ she admitted. ‘Everything’s really quiet—I’m waiting for a baby boom.’ She smiled when she saw Mary walking towards them.
‘We’re missing that little man of yours,’ Mary said. ‘How is he doing?’
‘He’s fine,’ Bridgette said, expecting Dominic to walk on when she stopped to talk to Mary, but instead he stood there with them. ‘I am sorry to have given you such short notice.’
‘Hardly your fault.’ Mary gave her a smile. ‘You’d be missing him too?’
Bridgette gave a nod. ‘A bit,’ she admitted, ‘but they should be home soon for a visit.’
‘That’s good.’ Mary bustled off and Bridgette stood, suddenly awkward.
‘Have you heard from her?’
Bridgette shook her head. ‘I tried to ring but couldn’t get through—I think she’s out of credit for her phone. Right.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘I’m going to head for home.’
‘I should be finished soon,’ Dominic said. ‘And then I’m back here tomorrow for the weekend.’ He gave her a wry grin. ‘Some holiday romance.’
‘We can go out tonight,’ Bridgette offered. ‘Or sleep.’
‘Nope,’ Dominic said, ‘we can go out and then…’ He gave her that nice private smile. ‘Why don’t you head over to mine?’ he asked, because there were cafés a stone’s throw away, unlike Bridgette’s flat.
‘Sure,’ Bridgette said, because she couldn’t face pizza again and the flat still hadn’t been tidied. The cot was down, but stood taking up half the wall in her spare bedroom, which made it an obstacle course to get to the computer.
Next weekend she was off for four days and she was going to sort it.
Bridgette let herself into his flat, and wondered how someone who worked his ridiculous hours managed to keep the place so tidy. Yes, he’d told her he had someone who came in once a week, and she knew he did, but it wasn’t just the cleaner, Bridgette knew. He was a tidy person, an ordered person.
Knew what he wanted, where his life was going.
She had a little snoop, to verify her findings. Yes, the dishes were done and stacked in the dishwasher; the lid was on the toothpaste and it was back in its little glass. She peered into the bedroom—okay, it wasn’t exactly hospital corners, but the cover had been pulled back up. She wandered back to his lounge and over to his desk.
There was a pile of mail waiting for him, one a very thick envelope, from that exclusive hospital where he wanted to work, but it was too much to think about and she had a shower instead. Then she pulled on a black skirt with a pale grey top, because an awful lot of her clothes seemed to live here now. The outfit would look okay with ballet pumps or high heels—wherever the night might lead.
It was a holiday romance, Bridgette kept telling herself to make sense of it, and summer was coming to an end. The clock would change soon and in a couple of weeks it would be dark by now. She felt as if she were chasing the last fingers of the sun, just knew things were changing. Oh, she’d been blasé with Mary, didn’t want to tell anyone what was in the bottom of her heart, that things were building, that at any moment now the phone would ring and it would all have gone to pot.
‘Sorry about that…’ He came in through the door much later than expected and gave her a very haphazard kiss as he looked at his watch and picked up his mail. He didn’t want her to ask what the hold-up had been, didn’t want her to know the scare little Francesca had given him just a short while before. He had twelve hours off before a weekend on call and he needed every moment of it, but first…‘I’ve got to take a phone call.’
‘No problem.’
‘Hey,’ Dominic said when his phone rang promptly at seven-thirty. ‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ Chris said, and got straight to the point. ‘When are you coming back to Sydney?’ Chris was growing impatient. ‘It’s been ages since you were here.’
And Dominic took a deep breath and told him the news he hadn’t really had time to think about, let alone share with Bridgette. ‘I got a phone call today, an—’ he didn’t want to say too much at this early stage ‘—I’m coming home for a few days next weekend. We’ll go out then.’
‘It’s been ages.’
‘I know,’ Dominic said, and he knew how much his brother missed him, but he tried to talk him
