to give a reason. ‘Because it’s just not possible.’ She picked up Glenda Wharton’s drug chart and slapped it against his chest. ‘Please write up some milder analgesia for her and I’ll take out the drain tubes now.’
Her expression—a combination of defiance and pain—was all too familiar and it silenced him. As much as he didn’t want to have to see Chloe every day, he didn’t want to hurt her either. While he quickly wrote the order across the page, neither of them said another word.
He got the distinct feeling both of them were battling demons they wanted to keep secret.
‘HE SHOULD SLEEP all afternoon because I ran him halfway to Burleigh Heads this morning,’ Chloe told Nick as she settled Chester into his basket inside a playpen.
Even though Lucy had taken the twins to visit a friend, Chloe didn’t want the puppy to escape and cause her sister-in-law any more work. Being the mother of twins was enough to exhaust her, without adding anything extra. Despite today being Chloe’s weekend off, the hospital had called, asking if she could come in for three hours. She was happy to work but her puppy was still too small to be on his own for more than an hour.
‘You’ll be fine with your uncle, won’t you?’ Nick fondled the pup’s golden ears.
‘Enjoy him, because he’s as close to a nephew as you’re ever going to get.’
The acrid words spewed out of her, shocking her. For years she’d kept a tight lid on her sorrow, and she wasn’t sure why today it had momentarily lifted, especially with her brother. He was the one person who knew the details of what had happened to her all those years ago at sixteen. If it hadn’t been for Nick and his quick actions, she’d be dead.
Nick’s eyes, the identical colour to hers, darkened with concern. ‘You okay?’
‘I will be.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think turning thirty was harder than I thought.’
‘It can be a tough birthday,’ Nick said, still patting the dog.
‘Oh, yeah.’ It had been a tough couple of weeks in so many ways—her birthday, working with Luke Stanley and nursing the little Balinese boy. She’d even added to it by walking past the special care nursery, instead of avoiding it like she normally did. For an extra dose of agony she’d paused, gazing at the babies. Reminding herself of what she could never have.
‘You know, Chester reminds me of Cerberus,’ Nick said, his voice filled with surprise.
‘Sorry.’ Chloe bit her lip, thinking about their childhood dog. When their strict Greek father had discovered she’d broken his draconian rules and had snuck out of the house to meet a boy, he’d punished her by having the dog put down. Her actions had cost Nick his beloved dog. ‘I think that’s why I chose him.’
‘Don’t let your mind go back to that toxic place, sis. Baba just wanted an excuse to get rid of the dog, and if it hadn’t happened then it would have happened another time.’ Nick rose to his feet and gave her a hug. ‘You really are having a tough time, aren’t you?’
‘Just a bit.’ She pulled back from her brother. ‘I’d better get going. At least Luke Stanley won’t be in today to upset everyone, so that’s something.’
‘Give the guy a break, Chloe,’ Nick admonished gently.
She slung her leather backpack over her shoulder with a jerk. ‘He’s mostly fine with Keri and Kate and I’ve done my best to be understanding, but there are times when he’s tough to work with.’
‘There’s no time limit on grief.’
‘You’re preaching to the converted, Nick. Say hi to Lucy and the twins for me.’
He grinned at the mention of his wife and children. ‘Will do. And, Chloe…’
She paused at the door. ‘Yes?’
‘Keep looking forward. Promise?’
She nodded at their old mantra—the cluster of words that had kept them strong through difficult times. ‘Will do.’
Closing the door behind her, she walked the short distance to the hospital. Accident and Emergency was seething with humanity on this fine and sunny Saturday afternoon and she signed in, introducing herself to the staff.
‘There are two rugby players with concussion and head lacerations who’ve just arrived,’ said Greg Lindall, the nurse-in-charge. ‘I’ve called Plastics and someone will be down.’
‘I’m on it.’ She pushed her arms into a gown, grabbed some dressing packs and made her way to the cubicles. Two burly men, their toned and buff bodies dwarfing the hospital trolleys, sat holding icepacks to their heads.
‘Hi, I’m Chloe.’
‘Finn Hudson,’ replied one of the men.
‘Harry Jameson,’ said the other.
Chloe flicked through the head-injury charts that the ambulance officers had commenced and saw their ages. ‘So, guys, your chart says you’ve both had concussion twice before. Isn’t it time to give up the game?’ she flicked on her pencil torch and checked Harry’s pupils.
‘We’re thirty-two, not dead,’ he said, flinching as she inspected the nasty gash on his head.
‘That may be, but serial concussions are serious. You don’t want to be forty and suffering from memory loss. What about taking up tennis?’
The guys stared at her as if she’d just suggested they take up floristry. She laughed. ‘Okay, then, maybe not tennis, but there are plenty of other non-contact sports to challenge you. Cycling or kayaking. I do sea kayaking and it’s fabulous.’
‘If you’re offering a lesson I might just consider it,’ Finn said, his face breaking into a flirty grin.
She laughed, comfortable with the banter. She was used to male patients flirting with her, and she enjoyed the safety of it because it never led anywhere, which was just how she liked it.
‘I’m going to stitch up the gash on your head now, Harry, but the cut close to your eye needs the expertise of the plastic-surgery registrar.’
‘Yeah, like he had such a pretty boy face to begin with,’ Finn teased.
‘Mate, I wasn’t the one spending the bucks ordering face cream online,’ Harry shot back.
Chloe listened to their nonsense as she carefully shaved a small section around the head gash and cleaned it, before administering local anaesthetic to numb the area. She loved the routine of suturing—the way the curved needle brought the skin edges neatly together, the looping of the silk over the scissors and then the sharp snip to end the stitch. The skin edges joined cleanly and she was applying a dressing when Greg stuck his head through the gap in the curtains.
‘Got a minute?’
‘Sure.’ She stripped off her gloves. ‘Back
