would be a very bad thing. A disastrous thing! Muddle-headed he might be, but one thing he was quite clear on—both physically and emotionally he wanted Annie Talbot, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because she was his ghost.
Well, he hoped it wasn’t, because he knew from experience that flesh-and-blood women were a lot more bother than ghosts, but in Annie’s case he was certain…he smiled to himself…she was worth the effort.
‘You don’t have to talk about the administrator issue,’ Annie said as they left the hospital and she guided him along a path that led around the perimeter of the park. ‘It’s really none of my business if you wanted to bring her out here.’
Alex was more than happy to accede to this request, but a tightness in Annie’s voice suggested he’d better get it settled or he’d be eight steps back.
‘Karen Ritchie, my old—no, ex—administrator, is a single mother who has worked sometimes at two or three jobs for the past ten years since her husband left her, to keep her kids and get them through college. They were old enough to be left on their own for a year, with relatives keeping an eye on them, and I thought the year out here, as well as being hard work, would be a treat for Karen.’
‘Oh!’ Annie said, in a very small voice. ‘Yes, she’d have enjoyed it, I’m sure.’
‘But, in case you’re now feeling bad about Karen, I can see it would have been impossible for her to function efficiently in such a different work environment. I discovered that in Melbourne when I needed administrative help to find my way around the workings of the hospital, and without you in the job here we wouldn’t be nearly as far along as we are. So stop worrying about it and let’s just go out and eat together and enjoy it.’
Now they were safely over that issue, Alex wondered what they should talk about.
Annie solved that problem.
‘I phoned Mayarma, the dog-walker I told you about, and she’s more than happy to add Minnie to her mob. She’d like to take her out on her own first to see how she behaves, but I assured her Henry would look after her—Minnie, not Mayarma—if she joins the group.’
‘And what do I have to do? How do I arrange things? And what is this wonderful service going to cost me?’
Annie explained the various ways owners left their dogs to be collected, and then named a sum that seemed ridiculously low to Alex.
‘That’s all she asks?’
Annie nodded.
‘It’s cash. She’s from the Philippines, married to an Australian, and she loves dogs but can’t have one as her husband’s getting on and could be knocked over by a big dog or trip over a small one. I’ll give you her phone number and you can speak to her direct about the arrangements.’
Which sorted out the dogs. Alex wondered if he could turn the subject to more personal matters, but Annie forestalled him with a question.
‘Did Maggie tell you why she didn’t want to stay with you?’
‘No, though I guess it could be something to do with sharing with two men. She might have imagined she’d have to do all the cooking and housework.’
‘Mmm.’
Alex waited for an explanation and when none was forthcoming asked, ‘That’s it? Mmm?’
‘It was a considering kind of mmm,’ Annie explained. ‘An “I’m not sure enough to say anything” kind of mmm.’
‘About what?’ Alex persisted, realising Annie’s conversation, first about the dogs and now about something to do with Maggie, was actually relaxing him quite nicely. It seemed so normal somehow, to be walking like this with Annie and talking trivia.
‘About Maggie,’ Annie now said, and Alex found he was intrigued. He liked Maggie and greatly appreciated the contribution she made to his work. A good anaesthetist was essential in all operations—but even more critical when working on hearts that could be as small as plums.
But they’d reached the restaurant, and his first whiff of the garlic-scented air turned his thoughts from staff to food.
And once again he made Annie laugh, his indecision over what sauce to have with his penne delighting her. Her laughter filled his heart with a heady gladness that went beyond the attraction he felt for her, and filled his mind with a resolve to continue this rather strange courtship.
‘It’s all very well for you,’ he grumbled. ‘You probably cook delicious sauces every day of the week. Once I’m past curry, it’s steak or steak. Not that you don’t have great steak out here in Australia, but it gets a bit boring after a while.’
‘You can buy prepared sauces then all you have to do is boil the pasta and heat the sauce and voila`, an Italian meal.’
‘Voila`’s French,’ he said, still grumbling, but now because Annie had slipped off the jacket of her suit, revealing a dark green blouse that made her eyes seem greener. And just as he was comparing the colour of the eyes to her blouse the top button popped, revealing a glimpse of a deep shadow between her breasts, so lust replaced the gladness in his heart, while an inner voice—a mean-spirited voice, sharp with jealousy—wondered if she’d had her jacket on or off at the meeting that morning.
‘The waitress asked if you’d decided,’ Annie said, indicating a young woman who’d materialised by his side.
‘I’ll have the Matriciana,’ he said, and silently congratulated himself on his recovery.
‘It’s about the only pasta sauce not on the menu. How about you try the Alfredo?’
Annie was just being helpful, but he glowered at her anyway, knowing he couldn’t ask what she’d had on at the meeting, suspecting he might be seriously love-struck to be thinking this way, and, as the wine waiter approached, wondering if it would be totally improper behaviour if he reached across the table and did up the wayward button.
He didn’t, asking Annie instead if she had a preference in wine, and when she settled on a glass of the house Chianti, he told the waiter he’d have the same. Thankfully, the man departed.
Which left him with Annie, and the revealing neckline of her shirt, which kept drawing his attention as surely as seagulls were drawn to fries at a picnic.
His silence must have stretched a fraction too long.
‘You’re frowning again. Is it Jamie, or are you still worried about Amy?’
Annie’s question—so work-oriented when his mind had been so far away—made him smile.
‘If I confess I was thinking of seagulls…’ not entirely true but close enough ‘…would you think I was totally mad?’
‘Not totally,’ she said, a smile lighting up her face and twinkling in her green-today eyes.
She sat back, obviously waiting for him to explain, but of course he couldn’t. Neither could he think of any logical thoughts he might have been having about seagulls.
Apart from them liking fries!
‘Jamie came through
