A &E Affairs. Lynne Marshall

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href="#ulink_683b3702-52e9-5892-8e33-0d80d9eb4caa">CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      ALISON was sensible.

      The world should have been back where it had been two months ago, except a blond English doctor had upended her life and now she somehow had to put it back.

      She chose not to tell her mum, because she didn’t want Rose not to take her trip.

      But she took folate and saw her GP and then later an obstetrician, who scanned her and told her she was ten weeks pregnant, and she was about to correct him, because Nick had only been gone for two weeks, then remembered that it was dated from the start of her cycle.

      And she had to tell him; she’d tried to tell him.

      There were about fifty attempts in the draft box of her email and she’d rung three times but hung up before it could connect.

      Tonight.

      Alison decided as she put on her lanyard and checked all her pens. Tonight she would ring him, before he headed for Asia.

      Or maybe, a little voice said as she smiled at Ellie, who was on her way home from night shift, she should wait till he’s there.

      ‘God, I hate nights,’ Ellie said, and then she looked at her friend. ‘You look awful.’

      ‘I shifted my stuff yesterday and I’m trying to help Mum pack for her trip—sleep is a distant memory.’

      ‘Here.’ Ellie handed over her make-up bag. ‘You’ll scare the patients.’

      She so could not be bothered with make-up, but Ellie was right—she did look terrible—so Alison retied her hair and put on some mascara and a bit of lip gloss, and when Ellie doused herself in perfume she squirted some at her friend.

      ‘Still missing him?’ Ellie asked, but Alison just gave a noncommittal shrug.

      ‘The best way to get over a man is to get under another.’ Ellie grinned. ‘And you’ve no hope looking like that.’

      ‘Thanks for the sage advice.’

      ‘You will thank me.’ Ellie beamed. ‘Come on, you’re late and I’m skiving off early.’

      They walked out together, talking much about nothing, and then the world stopped because there at the nurses’ station was Nick, smiling as she walked over. Her heart was in her mouth and her face must have paled but thank God for Ellie, who had ensured she was at least wearing mascara!

      ‘Hi, there,’ he said as she stood waiting for handover.

      ‘Hi.’ Alison could hardly get the word out, her throat was squeezed closed so tightly. ‘How was New Zealand?’

      ‘Great.’

      And he just stood and she just looked and he just waited—and there were so many things that she wanted to say, to ask, and so much she wanted to avoid, so awkwardly she just stood.

      ‘Nick!’ Sheila was far more effusive. ‘What on earth? It is so good to see you—we’ve had to battle through with the most miserable locum in the southern hemisphere.’ She glanced over her shoulder just in case he was around, then shrugged. ‘How long till you disappear?’

      ‘Not sure,’ Nick said. ‘I’ve got a few things I need to sort out.’

      He did change the energy of the place.

      Moira squealed in delight when she came on at midday and though he was holed up an awful lot in Amy’s office, Alison tried not to be jealous, or get ahead of herself and believe that it was them he had come to sort out. And yet, as she showed around a new group of student nurses, she was reminded of a certain matter that needed discussing.

      ‘X-ray.’ The familiar call came from Resus, and Alison moved the group back.

      ‘Just be careful,’ Alison warned. ‘They do call out, but just be aware that there are a lot of portable X-rays taken here.’

      ‘Is Resus lead lined?’ a student asked, and Alison shook her head.

      ‘You just need to keep your distance when they’re shooting, and wear a gown.’ She knew it was safe, had pored over all the information, knew that the safest place to stand was behind the radiographer, and that, really, the level of exposure was tiny, and yet, and yet. ‘If you’re pregnant, or think there’s a chance you might be, it’s best to let us know if you’re not happy to be in there when they’re taking films.’ And then Alison realised just how futile those words were and offered the next best thing. ‘Or just slip away…’

      Which she tried to do when her shift ended, but Nick caught her as she slunk off.

      ‘I want a word with you.’ He was waiting outside the changing room. ‘Several, in fact. If you want to, that is.’ And she didn’t know what she wanted so he spoke into the silence. ‘I know a nice café that does ricotta cheese and cherry strudel—I’ll be there at five.’

      He was there before her again.

      Only her teeth didn’t feel like glass. Instead her mouth felt like it was filled with sand as she made her way over.

      ‘I’ve already ordered,’ Nick said as a waitress came over.

      ‘I might not have come.’

      ‘I’m always hungry.’ They sat in silence as two lattés and two strudels were placed before them and Alison took a sip of her drink.

      ‘What happened, Alison? ‘

      And she had to tell him, except the words wouldn’t come out.

      So she toyed with her strudel, and went to take a bite, then remembered that soft cheese was on the list of forbidden foods her obstetrician had given her, and as she put the pastry down she saw him frown, almost saw the thought process in his eyes. And then two words were said, presumably by her, because it sounded like her voice and Nick’s lips weren’t moving.

      And then she closed her eyes, because she didn’t want to see all his dreams evaporating, didn’t want to witness him realise that his twelve months of freedom had just delivered him every last thing he’d been trying to avoid.

      ‘When did you find out?’ His voice sounded normal.

      ‘A few days ago.’ Alison swallowed. ‘When I was sick.’

      ‘That was more than a few days ago, that was a few weeks ago, Alison.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Only Nick wasn’t cross with her for not telling him.

      ‘You shouldn’t have been holding this in on your own.’ He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I knew there was something wrong. I thought it was the promotion, me leaving…’

      It was.

      And it was a whole lot more too.

      ‘You could have told me,’ Nick said.

      Not

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