Central as she’d worked those last weeks of her pregnancy with her marriage falling apart had been awful. The last thing she needed was Penny rubbing it in.
‘I knew I recognised you from somewhere.’ She looked over to the sound of a vaguely familiar voice.
‘Oh!’ Jasmine was startled as she realised who it was. ‘Hi, Jed.’ He was out of breath from running and—she definitely noticed this time—was very, very good looking.
He was wearing grey shorts and a grey T-shirt and he was toned, a fact she couldn’t fail to notice when he lifted his T-shirt to wipe his face, revealing a very flat, tanned stomach. Jasmine felt herself blush as for the first time in the longest time she was shockingly drawn to rugged maleness.
But, then, how could you not be? Jasmine reasoned. Any woman hauled out of a daydream would blink a few times when confronted with him. Any woman would be a bit miffed that they hadn’t bothered sorting their hair and that they were wearing very old denim shorts and a T-shirt splashed with paint.
‘You walk here?’ Jed checked, because now he remembered her. Dark curls bobbing, she would walk—sometimes slowly, sometimes briskly and, he had noticed she never looked up, never acknowledged anyone—she always seemed completely lost in her own world. ‘I see you some mornings,’ Jed said, and then seemed to think about it. ‘Though not for a while.’
‘I live just over there.’ Jasmine pointed to her small weatherboard house. ‘I walk here every chance I get—though I haven’t had too many chances of late.’
‘We’re almost neighbours.’ Jed smiled. ‘I’m in the one on the end.’ He nodded towards the brand-new group of town houses a short distance away that had been built a couple of years ago. Her mother had been the agent in a couple of recent sales there and Jasmine wondered if one of them might have been to him.
And just to remind her that he hadn’t specifically noticed her, he nodded to another jogger who went past, and as they walked along a little way, he said hi to an elderly couple walking their dog. He clearly knew the locals.
‘Taking a break from painting?’ He grinned.
‘How did you guess?’ Jasmine sighed. ‘I don’t know who’s madder—whoever painted the wall green, or me for thinking a couple of layers of white would fix it. I’m on my third coat.’ She looked over at him and then stated the obvious. ‘So you run?’
‘Too much,’ Jed groaned. ‘It’s addictive.’
‘Not for me,’ Jasmine admitted. ‘I tried, but I don’t really know where to start.’
‘You just walk,’ Jed said, ‘and then you break into a run and then walk again—you build up your endurance. It doesn’t take long.’ He smiled. ‘See? I’m addicted.’
‘No, I get it.’ Jasmine grinned back. ‘I just don’t do it.’
‘So, how did you go with the crèche?’ He walked along beside her and Jasmine realised he was probably just catching his breath, probably pacing himself rather than actually stopping for her. Still, it was nice to have a chat.
‘They were really accommodating, though I think Lisa might have had something to do with that.’
‘How old is your child?’
‘Fourteen months,’ Jasmine said. ‘His name’s Simon.’
‘And is this your first job since he was born?’ He actually did seem to want to talk her. Jasmine had expected that he’d soon jog off, but instead he walked along beside her, his breathing gradually slowing down. It was nice to have adult company, nice to walk along the beach and talk.
‘It is,’ Jasmine said. ‘And I’m pretty nervous.’
‘You worked at Melbourne Central, though,’ he pointed out. ‘That’s one hell of a busy place. It was certainly buzzing when I went for my interview there.’
‘Didn’t you like it?’
‘I did,’ Jed said, ‘but I was surprised how much I liked Peninsula Hospital. I was sort of weighing up between the two and this …’ he looked out to the bay, ‘… was a huge draw card. The beach is practically next to the hospital and you can even see it from the canteen.’
‘I’m the same,’ Jasmine said, because as much as she loved being in the city she was a beach girl through and through.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Jed said. ‘It will take you ten minutes to get back into the swing of things.’
‘I think it might take rather more than that.’ Jasmine laughed. ‘Having a baby scrambles your brains a bit. Still, it will be nice to be working again. I’ve just got to work out all the shifts and things.’
‘What does your husband do?’ Jed took a swig from his water bottle. ‘Can he help?’
‘We’re separated,’ Jasmine replied.
‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s fine,’ Jasmine said. She was getting used to saying it and now, just as she was, it would be changing again because she’d be divorced.
It was suddenly awkward; the conversation that had flowed so easily seemed to have come to a screeching halt. ‘Storm’s getting close.’ Jed nodded out to the distance.
Given they were now reduced to talking about the weather, Jasmine gave a tight smile. ‘I’d better go in and watch my paint dry.’
‘Sure,’ Jed said, and gave her a smile before he jogged off.
And as she turned and headed up to her flat she wanted to turn, wanted to call out to his rapidly departing back, ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to run—just because I don’t have a partner doesn’t mean that I’m looking for another one.’
God, talk about put the wind up him.
Still, she didn’t dwell on it.
After all there were plenty of other things on her mind without having to worry about Jed Devlin.
THERE WAS, JASMINE decided, one huge advantage to being related to two fabulously strong, independent women.
It sort of forced you to be fabulously strong and independent yourself, even when you didn’t particularly feel it.
The hospital squeezed her in for that month’s orientation day and after eight hours of fire drills, uniform fittings, occupational health and safety lectures and having her picture taken for her lanyard, she was officially on the accident and emergency roster. Lisa had, as promised, rung the crèche and told them Simon was a priority, due to the shortage of regular staff in Emergency.
So, just over a week later at seven o’clock on a Wednesday morning, two kilograms lighter thanks to a new diet, and with her hair freshly cut, Jasmine dropped her son off for his first day of crèche.
‘Are
