looked her best. The red gown she was wearing was one of her favourites, although she’d never worn it before when she’d been out with Rafferty. Most of the time they’d spent together had been at some disaster spot or other and there’d been few opportunities there to dress up. It struck her all of a sudden just how little time they’d spent doing the normal things a couple usually did together. Their relationship had revolved around their work and they’d just snatched the odd hour as and when they could.
Would things have turned out differently if they’d had more time to themselves? she wondered. Everyone was under a lot of pressure when they were away on a mission. Consequently emotions ran high, and it could explain why they’d never been able to reach a compromise.
‘How much longer do we have to stay here?’ he demanded, leaning over so that he could whisper the question in her ear.
‘It’s not the done thing to leave before the main guest has finished speaking,’ she informed him tersely. She’d always believed that their failure to agree had been because of his stubbornness and it was worrying to wonder if she’d been wrong to hold him solely responsible when there might have been other factors involved.
‘It will be midnight at this rate before he runs out of steam,’ Rafferty declared in disgust. ‘Who on earth is interested in the profit and loss ratios that can be achieved in various European countries?’
‘A lot of people. You might believe that making a profit is the devil’s work but your views aren’t shared by the majority of people here tonight.’
‘I never said it was wrong to make a profit,’ he denied, frowning.
‘No? It certainly sounded like it to me earlier today.’
She smiled sweetly at him then turned her attention to the speaker but it was difficult to concentrate when her mind kept returning to the thought that she might have been wrong to blame Rafferty for their problems. It was a relief when the speech ended and everyone started talking. Natalie knew most of the people on their table because she’d met them when she’d acted as hostess for her father. Richard Palmer was a renowned host and his cocktail parties were always well attended.
The man on her right asked her how her father was so she turned to speak to him, aware that Rafferty was talking to the woman seated next to him. She could just catch snippets of their conversation, something about an opera which had been a sell-out. Someone else joined in, adding their comments on the production, until the whole table ended up discussing its merits. Natalie smiled when a woman seated opposite her asked if she’d seen it.
‘I’ve not had time, I’m afraid. I’ve been too busy trying to find my way around Palmer’s so I’ve not been to the theatre for ages.’
The woman smiled sympathetically then turned her attention to Rafferty. ‘And how about you, Dr Rafferty? Have you managed to get tickets for it yet? It’s a marvellous production, so much better than Antonini’s version. If you saw it, I’m sure you’d agree.’
‘I’m afraid I’m not really an opera buff,’ Rafferty replied evenly. ‘My visits to the theatre tend to have a rather different purpose behind them.’
Everyone laughed at the quip, as he’d obviously intended them to. However, Natalie could tell there was something bothering him. She frowned to herself, because she had no idea what was wrong. They’d just been making conversation, the kind of small talk that usually happened at these events, so why did Rafferty look so on edge?
The band began to play so, under cover of the general hubbub that broke out as people got up to dance, she leant over and asked him, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Fine. Why shouldn’t I be?’
His tone was bland enough but she could tell from the tautness of his jaw that he was still very tense. She shrugged, feeling her way with care because she didn’t want to make matters worse by saying the wrong thing. ‘You just looked a bit…well, uneasy when we were talking about the opera.’
‘Did I?’ He shrugged. ‘Probably because there wasn’t a lot I could contribute. Opera is something that has passed me by, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, I see.’
Natalie wasn’t sure she did see, but there was little she could say when he obviously didn’t want to talk about it any more. Maybe he wasn’t interested in opera, as he’d claimed, but his reaction seemed to her to be just a little too much. She breathed a sigh of relief when a waiter appeared and informed her there was a phone call for her in Reception because it provided a welcome distraction.
She quickly excused herself, as she had a good idea who it might be. Since she’d been back in London, she’d been helping out at a drop-in clinic for the many homeless teenagers who lived on the streets of the city. The clinic was staffed by a team of volunteer nurses and doctors and provided a lifeline for the youngsters who were often loath to seek medical help elsewhere. Although she wasn’t due to work that night, she’d made sure they had the phone number of the hotel where the dinner was being held in case anything cropped up. The reception staff had transferred the call to a private booth in the foyer so she went straight there and picked up the receiver.
‘Natalie Palmer.’
‘Hi, Natalie, it’s Helen. I’m sorry to phone you but we have a bit of a problem. It’s Danny Kennedy and he’s in a pretty bad way, I’m afraid.’
Natalie sighed. Danny was a regular visitor to the clinic. He was in his early teens and had run away from home after his parents had split up and his mother’s new partner had beaten him up. He’d suffered from asthma all his life and living on the streets was making the problem worse.
‘Has he been taking his medication?’ she asked worriedly.
‘He says he has but it doesn’t sound like it to me,’ Helen explained. ‘I really think he should be admitted to hospital but he’s refusing to go. I thought you might be able to persuade him to see sense.’
‘I’ll try.’ She checked her watch. ‘If I leave straight away, I should be with you in about ten minutes’ time. If he gets any worse, though, call an ambulance and we’ll argue about it later.’
‘Will do. Thanks, Natalie.’
Natalie left the booth, trying to decide what she should tell Rafferty. He had no idea that she’d been working at the clinic since she’d come back to London and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to know about it either.
‘Is everything all right?’
She jumped when the subject of her thoughts suddenly materialised at her side. She turned to face him, feeling her heart give an appreciative little flutter before she could stop it. The formal dinner suit he was wearing made the most of his dark good looks, emphasising the width of his shoulders and the trimness of his waist. Rarely had she seen him wearing anything other than scrubs or jeans and she had to admit that he looked great. However, how he looked wasn’t the issue. She was more concerned about what she was going to tell him.
Her father had instilled into her a sense of duty from an early age. He had insisted that it wasn’t enough just to be rich and that she had to prove her worth by giving something back to the world. Natalie had never had a problem with that idea because it wasn’t in her nature to idle away her time. She enjoyed helping people, and loved nursing, so she had tried to live up to his high expectations of her. However, whilst she was prepared to accept that
