someone with kids who wanted to work part time.’
Malika shrugged, a gesture that made the numerous gold bangles adorning her wrist chime. ‘Quinn is all of those things, just not female.’
Definitely not female, Ali thought.
‘Besides,’ her mother continued, ‘it might be good to have a male doctor on staff. You have to admit we’re rather lacking in that department.’
Ali couldn’t disagree. Both receptionists were female, as was the practice nurse and the other part-time doctor. There wasn’t a male amongst them. It could be a very good appointment if Ali was convinced her mother had found the right male. ‘Don’t you think he has enough on his plate, without working too?’
‘That’s his decision. Not mine,’ Malika said as she poured them both a cup of jasmine tea. ‘What reservations do you have?’
None she was prepared to voice, Ali thought. She just knew it would be difficult to keep her feelings in check but that was her problem and one she would deal with. She couldn’t admit she was nervous about working with him, worried about her ability to remain professional, but she had to think of something to say and she had to think of it quickly. ‘He told me he’s taken leave from the army so it doesn’t sound as if he plans to be here permanently.’
Malika nodded. ‘No, and that’s a shame. I was hoping the locum position might develop into something more permanent. But I can see why this job is attractive to him at the moment and I’m happy to have him. His experience is excellent, and I want to do this for him. He’s going through a tough time. If we can help each other then that’s a good thing. As long as he can cover for me while I go to that conference in Barcelona with your father, that’s the minimum commitment I need.’
‘Are you sure he’s the right fit for the practice? You don’t think he’ll be bored working here? You don’t think he’s a bit over-qualified?’ In her opinion an army medic was likely to find general practice work rather mundane.
But Malika wasn’t easily dissuaded, about Quinn or most other matters, and Ali should have known she was clutching at straws. ‘It’s only a short-term locum position at this stage and I think he could use a break from the stress of the army and his overseas postings,’ her mother responded. ‘I think it will do him good to have some routine medicine. He’ll have enough stress at home and he might enjoy coming to work for a break.’
Ali couldn’t argue. The surgery was, after all, still her mother’s, the decision was Malika’s, and Ali knew, professionally, it was a good one. It looked like she would just have to get used to the idea of working with Quinn.
Ali dictated the last referral letter, pushed her chair back and stretched her arms over her head to get the knots out of her shoulders. It was time to go home. She was the last one at the surgery, it was dark and she was tired. She stood and collected her handbag and red coat from where they were hanging behind her door but a sudden noise made her pause. Someone was coming in the back door.
She wasn’t expecting anyone and the light from her room spilled out into the corridor like a beacon against the darkness of the rest of the clinic, highlighting her presence to whoever had just entered the building. Ali heard two footsteps, light, not heavy, and her heart missed a beat before lodging itself in her throat.
‘Hello?’ The footsteps were accompanied by a voice. Quinn’s voice. For a solidly built man he moved lightly.
Ali’s heart skipped another beat. Her fight-or-flight response was in top gear thanks to the adrenalin that was kicking around in her system, but now the adrenalin transformed into a flurry of excitement instead of fear.
She stepped out from behind her door.
‘Quinn, what are you doing here?’
He was casually dressed in old, soft jeans and a blue woollen jumper that made his eyes gleam as the light from her room shone on him. His jeans stretched firmly across the muscles in his thighs. His legs were muscular, powerful and very male. Ali blushed as her gaze swept across his groin. Very male. Quickly she averted her eyes and lifted them to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed her transgression.
‘I wanted to drop off a few things and get myself a bit organised before I start consulting tomorrow.’ In his arms he held a cardboard archive box. ‘Am I disturbing you? I didn’t think anyone else would be here.’
Ali shook her head. ‘No, I was just finishing up.’ She followed him into his room and watched as he dropped the box onto his desk. It sounded heavy. He’d made it look light. ‘Would you like some help?’ she asked as he began to empty the box. She’d trailed after him without thinking about what she was doing and only now did she realise he might not want company.
‘Sure. Do you want to find a spot to hang this?’ he asked as he handed her his framed medical degree.
There was an empty hook to the left of the window, above the desk, and Ali hung the frame there, right where patients would be able to see it. If he was bothering to unpack, did that mean he was thinking of this as more than a locum position?
When she turned back to Quinn he was still pulling certificates from the box. She looked at the certificates as he stacked them in an ever-increasing pile on the desk. Trauma, underwater and hyperbaric medicine and chemical and biological defence followed his traditional medical qualifications. She had suspected he was over-qualified for the job but she hadn’t realised by how much.
‘You carry these around with you?’ she asked.
‘No.’ Quinn shook his head and grinned at her. ‘They’ve been gathering dust in Julieanne’s attic. The army moves people around so often it’s been easier to store stuff with her,’ he replied, as he picked up the pile of frames and put them on the floor, leaning them against the wall.
Ali wondered where he’d been but before she could ask she was distracted by a photograph of two girls that he was lifting from the box.
‘Are these your daughters?’ she asked as he set the picture on the desk. ‘They’re twins?’
Quinn nodded. The girls were identical from what she could see. With white-blonde hair and Quinn’s extraordinary blue eyes, there was no doubting who their father was, but they were older than she had expected. She knew they were at school but she’d imagined them as only just old enough. Judging from the photo, they’d been at school for a while. ‘You got an early start.’ She’d learned from her mother that Quinn was only thirtytwo. Six years older than she was.
Quinn ran his fingers along the top of the photo frame. ‘They caught us by surprise. They turned nine a few months ago.’
‘What are their names?’
‘Beth and Eliza.’
His voice was soft and Ali could hear the love as he spoke his daughters’ names and her heart ached with loneliness and loss. But she couldn’t stop to dwell on her own feelings right now. She couldn’t afford to be swamped by disappointment. She suppressed those feelings; she’d deal with them another time. She was getting quite adept at that. She knew she needed to address the issue, she couldn’t just continue to ignore it, she knew that wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t have the strength to do anything else. Not yet. So she continued to talk, keeping the focus on Quinn.
‘Pretty names,’ she said. ‘Which one is which?’
Quinn
