in surrender and backed away, afraid of what might happen, when suddenly a tall figure stepped between them.
It was Tom. He had stepped in, towering over the drunk like a menacing gladiator.
‘Step away.’ He dropped his briefcase to the floor without taking his eyes off the belligerent man and then slowly walked towards him.
Naomi watched, open-mouthed in shock. It had to be him! Rescuing her again!
What must he think of me?
‘What you gonna do? Huh? I know my rights!’ A small piece of spittle flew from the man’s mouth, but his swagger and bravado soon dissipated as Tom continued to step towards him.
‘If you ever touch a member of my staff again, you’ll find yourself in a police cell quicker than you could ever imagine.’
The man staggered backwards, blinking. ‘All right! All right! I’m going!’ He looked most put out that his bullying tactics hadn’t worked and he’d been knocked back by a better, stronger man. ‘You lot are all the same!’ He shuffled off, muttering, his cigarette smoke surrounding him like a dirty cloud.
Tom watched him go, his coat collar turned up around his neck. Only when he was convinced that the drunk was far enough away did he turn around to look at Naomi, his gaze checking her for any injury, concern in his eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ His voice held a note of the same concern.
She nodded quickly. Briefly. She was unable to believe how quickly the situation had escalated.
‘Mick’s a frequent flyer here. Often presents drunk. He’s lonely, I think.’ His voice had an odd tone, but whatever he’d been thinking disappeared from his face when he turned again to make sure Mick had truly gone.
‘But still he has a go at the people trying to help him.’
He smiled, disarming her. ‘It happens.’
‘You can say that again.’ She watched Mick from afar, glad that Tom had intervened. Although she felt she would have handled it, if she’d had to. She’d taken kick-boxing classes once, years ago. She had needed something intensely physical to do, seeing as it wasn’t required in her marriage. At home, she’d had to be careful in everything she did, walking on eggshells, making sure she made no dramatic movements so as not to cause inadvertent injury. Being extra careful all of the time had just seemed to emphasise her natural clumsiness. By the end, her marriage had been a physical prison.
‘Thanks again. It seems you’ve rescued me twice in one day.’ She tried to break the tension she was feeling by making a joke. ‘You really ought to be wearing shining armour and riding a white horse, or something.’
He just stared at her, his face impassive.
Not a lover of jokes either. Okay.
‘Anyway. Thank you.’
‘Will you get home all right?’
She nodded and pulled up the collar of her own coat. ‘It’s not far. Just around the corner, to be honest. St Bartholomew’s Road.’
‘Then I’ll walk you home. Mick could still be a bother. I know him and he doesn’t always do what’s wise.’
She couldn’t let him do that. He’d done enough for her today and, besides, she didn’t need him witnessing the dump she was living in. That would be too embarrassing. By his expensive clothes, she could tell this was a man that probably lived in a penthouse apartment. He’d take one look at her bedsit and then what would he think of her? He probably already thought of her as incompetent and she didn’t want him thinking of her as some sort of Cinderella figure.
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I do.’ He smiled. ‘You’ve almost fallen once today. If you fell on the ice now, it would undo all of my previous hard work.’
Naomi smiled back, her grin almost freezing into place in the bitter wind.
Right. I just won’t invite him in. Then he won’t understand how bad it is. I can do this. He’s not a complete ogre.
‘Okay.’
They walked along at a pleasant pace. There was a large park by the hospital and, this late in the day, it was filled with people walking their dogs, or couples strolling hand in hand. Naomi always noticed people doing that. It had been something denied to her and Vincent. She’d always been pushing his wheelchair.
But today, instead, she caught herself sneaking looks at Tom and even though she tried to stop herself—sure that he would notice—she kept doing it.
He was so good-looking; tall and broad, yet slim. He frightened her. Not just because he was her boss and probably thought she was an incompetent nincompoop, but because he was without a doubt the most handsome man she had ever met. Handsome men, in her experience, caused trouble. They had certainly caused enough for her mother, who had brought back endless strings of attractive men. Fast-car driving, exquisitely clothed, silver-tongued individuals, so slick you’d have trouble distinguishing them from a vat of oil. Each man had caused their own problems. Borrowing money, never calling, one even taking his hand to her mother. Each and every one had been heartache and pain in a well-dressed suit. Each of them had broken her mother’s easily led heart.
That was why Naomi had fallen so easily in love with Vincent. Why she had married him. He’d been none of those things. He’d been average-looking, physically disabled. She’d always known where she was with him. She’d always known the expectations. It had been simple. And there’d been no worry or risk of him running off, having an affair and breaking her heart.
‘So how was your first day at Welbeck? Scintillating health and safety briefing aside?’
Naomi looked back at the road, busy with cars. ‘It was good. Exhausting, but good. I’ll be glad to get a decent night’s sleep. You? Did you have a busy day?’
See? I can do this. Pretend this is normal. There’s nothing more to it than one colleague walking another home, to ensure her safety. Having a normal conversation.
‘Yes.’
‘Why did you choose A&E as a discipline?’
‘It’s busy.’
She waited, assuming that he’d say more, but when he didn’t, she didn’t push him. They were both still strangers to each other. Perhaps he had personal reasons for his career that he didn’t feel like sharing with someone he’d only just met. After all, she was keeping secrets, too. Holding things back. He was entitled to do the same.
Naomi adjusted her scarf. ‘You know, it’s not far now. You’re probably coming out of your way to walk me home, so you can go, if you want to. I don’t think I’m going to get mugged in the next fifty metres.’
He turned to her. ‘You don’t like people helping you, do you?’
She blew out a breath. ‘I stand on my own two feet. I’ve got used to looking after myself and I like it. The independence. The freedom.’ She couldn’t tell him how much that meant to her. Being out in the world and doing her own thing without having
