walked over to the window. The old hospital building was several storeys high, on the edge of the city. The grey clouds were hanging low this morning and some drizzly rain was falling outside, but she could still see some greenery in the distance.
‘Why on earth would anyone want to leave all this behind?’ she joked.
Mrs Kelly raised her eyebrows. ‘Why indeed?’
Cassidy spent the rest of the morning finding her feet again in the ward. The hospital computer system had been updated, causing her to lose half her patients at the touch of a button. And the automated pharmacy delivery seemed to be on the blink again. Some poor patients’ medicines would be lost in a pod stuck in a tube somewhere.
Lucy appeared from the ward next door, clutching a cup of tea, and tapped her on the shoulder. ‘How does it feel to be back?’
Cassidy gave her friend a smile. ‘It’s good.’ She picked up the off-duty book. ‘I just need to get my head around the rosters again.’ Her eyes fell on the sticky notes inside the book and she rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, great. Seven members of staff want the same weekend off.’
Lucy laughed. ‘That’s nothing. One of our girls got married last weekend and I had to rope in two staff from the next ward to cover the night shift. Got time for a tea break?’
She shook her head and pointed down the corridor. ‘The consultant’s just about to arrive for the ward round.’
Lucy crossed her arms across her chest as she followed Cassidy’s gaze to the three registrars at the bottom of the corridor. ‘So what do you make of our new docs?’
Cassidy never even lifted her head. ‘Funky, Chunky and Hunky?’
Lucy spluttered tea all down the front of her uniform. She looked at her watch. ‘Less than two hours and you’ve got nicknames for them already?’
Cassidy lifted her eyebrows. ‘It wasn’t hard. Although Luca is drop-dead gorgeous, he’s more interested in his own reflection than any of the patients. And Franco has finished off two rolls with sausages and half a box of chocolates in the last half hour.’
‘So none of them have caught your eye, then?’
Cassidy turned her head at the tone in her friend’s voice. She looked at her suspiciously. ‘Why? What are you up to?’
Lucy’s gaze was still fixed down the corridor. ‘Nothing. I just wondered what you thought of them.’ She started to shake her behind as she wiggled past, singing along about single ladies.
Cassidy looked back down the corridor. Her eyes were drawn in one direction. Brad’s appearance hadn’t improved. He was still wearing his crumpled scrubs and coat. His hair was still untamed and she could see a shadow around his jaw.
But he had spent nearly half an hour talking to Mrs Kelly’s daughter and then another half hour talking Mrs Kelly through her treatment for the next few days. Then trying to persuade her that once she was fit and well, she might want to take up her daughter’s offer of a visit to Australia.
Most doctors she worked with weren’t that interested in their patients’ holistic care. Their radar seemed to switch off as soon as they’d made a clinical diagnosis.
There was the sound of raucous laughter at the end of the corridor, and Cassidy looked up to see Brad almost bent double, talking to one of the male physios.
She shook her head and scoured the ward, looking for one of the student nurses. ‘Karen?’
The student scuttled over. ‘Yes, Sister?’
‘Do you know how to assess a patient for the risk of pressure ulcers?’
The student nodded quickly as Cassidy handed her a plastic card with the Waterlow scale on it. ‘I want you to do Mrs Kelly’s assessment then come back and we’ll go over it together.’
Karen nodded and hurried off down the corridor. Cassidy watched for a second. With her paper-thin skin, poor nutrition and lack of circulating oxygen, Mrs Kelly was at real risk of developing pressure sores on her body. For Cassidy, the teaching element was one of the reasons she did this job. She wanted all the students who came through her ward to understand the importance of considering all aspects of their patients’ care.
There was a thud beside her. Brad was in the chair next to her, his head leaning on one hand, staring at her again with those blue eyes. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. ‘So, which one am I?’
Cassidy blew a wayward chestnut curl out of her face. ‘What are you talking about now?’
He moved closer. ‘Hunky, Chunky or Funky? Which one am I?’ He put his hands together and pleaded in front of her. ‘Please tell me I’m Hunky.’
‘How on earth did you …?’ Her eyes looked down the corridor to where Pete, the physio, was in conversation with one of the other doctors. He must have overheard her. ‘Oh, forget it.’
She wrinkled her nose at him, leaning forward wickedly so nobody could hear. ‘No way are you Hunky. That’s reserved for the Italian god named Luca.’ Her eyes fell on Luca, standing talking to one of her nurses. She whispered in Brad’s ear, ‘Have you noticed how he keeps checking out his own reflection in those highly polished Italian shoes of his?’
Brad’s shoulders started to shake.
She prodded him on the shoulder. ‘No. With that excuse of a haircut and that strange earring, you’re definitely Funky.’ She pointed at his ear. ‘What is that anyway?’
Her head came forward, her nose just a few inches off his ear as she studied the twisted bit of gold in his ear. ‘Is it a squashed kangaroo? Or a surfboard?’
‘Neither.’ He grinned at her, turning his head so their noses nearly touched. ‘Believe it or not, it used to be a boomerang. My mum bought it for me when I was a teenager and I won a competition.’ He touched it with his finger. ‘It’s a little bent out of shape now.’
Her face was serious and he could smell her per-fume—or her shampoo. She smelled of strawberries. A summer smell, even though it was the middle of winter in Glasgow. He was almost tempted to reach out and touch her chestnut curls, resting just above her collarbone. But she was staring at him with those big chocolate-brown eyes. And he didn’t want to move.
If this was the Dragon Lady of the medical receiving unit, he wondered if he could be her St George and try to tame her. No. That was the English patron saint and he was in Scotland. He’d learned quickly not to muddle things up around here. The Scots he’d met were wildly patriotic.
Her face broke into a smile again. Interesting. She hadn’t pulled back, even though they were just inches from each other. She didn’t seem intimidated by his closeness. In any other circumstances he could have leaned forward and given her a kiss. A perfect example of the sort of distraction he needed.
‘Come to think of it, though …’ She glanced up and down his crumpled clothes. How could she ever have thought he reminded her of Bobby? Bobby wouldn’t have been seen dead in crumpled clothes. He’d always been immaculate—Brad was an entirely different kettle of fish. ‘If you keep coming into my ward dressed like that, I’ll have to change your name from Funky to Skunky.’
Brad
