he heard someone on the ward talk about greyhound racing? ‘The dogs?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. It’s a fund-raiser for medical equipment. Jude, Holls and I do it once a month, and split the proceeds between our wards—Jude’s in maternity and Holls is in Emergency. So we all benefit.’
‘What’s involved?’
‘You can buy a ticket, for a start. Or go and flash your smile around, flutter your eyelashes and talk people into buying tickets. Unless…’ She looked thoughtful. ‘You’re not musical, by any chance, are you?’
‘I play the piano a bit,’ he admitted.
Big mistake.
‘Yes!’ She punched the air. ‘I think I’ve just found our guest star.’
‘Hang on.’ This was all going way too fast. ‘I’m out of practise. I’m rusty.’
‘You’ve got a week. You can practise on Jude’s piano.’
‘But…’ His protest died as he realised that he had no chance of winning. Zoe would come up with an answer for any excuse he made.
She gave him that grin again. The one that put amber glints into her brown eyes. ‘That’s settled, then. Thanks. We’ll add your name to the posters. Guest star, Brad Hutton—is that vocals as well as piano?’
‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a…?’ He shook his head. Words failed him.
Zoe chuckled. ‘My nickname on the ward’s Hurricane Zoe.’
‘It suits you,’ he said feelingly.
‘So, is it piano only, or vocals?’
He sighed. ‘Both. I don’t have any choice, do I?’
‘You can say no.’
But that would mean letting her down. With shock, Brad realised that he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to see disappointment spill over her face. Which meant that Zoe Kennedy was the first person he’d actually responded to in nearly a year. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved—that he hadn’t become a complete automaton, that he could still feel something—or scared. ‘How many people are there?’
‘It’s not a huge thing, it’s in the hospital social club. We sell quite a few tickets—Holly can be very, um, persuasive—but only about thirty people tend to turn up. I do the food, Holls does the tickets and Jude wows everyone with her singing.’ She gave him a sidelong look. ‘Perhaps you should change your mind about coming to Giovanni’s tonight. You need to talk set lists with Jude and posters with Holls. Unless you want to leave the decisions with me?’
With Hurricane Zoe? He’d never heard a nickname that fitted someone so well. Heaven only knew what she’d agree to on his behalf! ‘I’ll be there tonight,’ he said.
‘Good.’ She sketched a map hurriedly on the back of a paper napkin. ‘This is London City General,’ she said, marking a big block on the paper. ‘You go out of the main entrance, turn right down this little street here, take a left, then the second right, and Giovanni’s is on the corner.’ She circled a smaller block. ‘It’s pretty easy to find. Look for the green, red and white stripy shutters.’
‘Won’t your boyfriends mind me joining you?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s just the three of us tonight. Besides, Holls and Jude are happily married to their careers.’
What about Zoe? She hadn’t said she was single. She hadn’t said she was attached either. Though why was he even wondering about it? He wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Not now, probably not ever—it had been nearly a year now and he still felt as lost. It was one of the reasons why he’d leapt at the London secondment, to go somewhere where there were no memories to haunt him.
Zoe Kennedy wasn’t for him. And the chances were she was already attached anyway.
‘Good. Seven o’clock at Giovanni’s, then.’ She smiled at him. ‘We’d better get back, or there’ll be a list of patients as long as my arm!’
BRAD was late. When he arrived at Giovanni’s, the three women were already seated at a table, drinking red wine, with a spare place laid for him.
One of Zoe’s friends was tall and beautiful with creamy skin and long red hair twisted back in a knot; the other was dark and intense-looking. And then there was Zoe, shorter than both, mid-brown hair that had copper lights when the sun caught it, and a Cupid’s-bow mouth with creases at the sides to show how often she smiled.
He wasn’t going to let his thoughts drift in that direction. He had nothing to offer her anyway. He was about to walk out of the door, planning to make some excuse in the morning when he had to face Zoe and she asked him why he’d stood them up, when she spotted him and waved.
No way could he back out now.
Fixing a smile on his face, he went over to join them. Zoe performed quick introductions. The redhead was Judith, an obstetrician, and the brunette was Holly, an emergency specialist. They’d been best friends since their first day of med school, over ten years before.
‘Zo tells us you’re at London City General on secondment from California. How are you enjoying it?’ Judith asked.
‘It’s…different.’ And, more importantly, London was somewhere that didn’t remind him of Lara. Even though they’d planned years before to snatch some time in London together, it had never quite worked out that way. It was free of memories.
‘Do you miss it? California, I mean?’ Holly asked.
Only the bit that he could never have again. Not that he was going to burden them with his problems. ‘I miss the weather,’ he said, trying to keep things light. ‘I didn’t realise it was quite this cold over here.’
‘It’s not that cold. Don’t be such a wimp,’ Zoe said.
Judith chuckled. ‘Here, have a glass of wine.’ She poured a glass for him. ‘Ignore our Zo. She’s mad enough to go paddling in November.’
‘A walk on the beach in winter is good for you. It blows the cobwebs out,’ Zoe defended herself, laughing.
‘Her aunt’s got a cottage on the Norfolk coast, and Zo’s dragged us out there before now in the middle of winter for a picnic on the beach,’ Holly said, shivering.
‘When it was sunny?’ Brad guessed.
‘Er…no. It wasn’t actually raining, but it wasn’t far off.’ Judith raised an eyebrow. ‘I suppose we were just lucky it was a flask of her home-made soup in the picnic basket and not a Thermos of ice-cream.’
So Zoe had a kooky streak. She went paddling in the North Sea in November. Had beach picnics in the middle of winter. Loved ice-cream. And could cook.
‘Anyway, we’re treating you
