maybe have a sister who’d gone through something similar? It was too intrusive to ask. He needed to tread carefully with Rosie or she’d back away from him again.
‘She’s a lovely girl.’
‘Maybe you can tell me about her after work,’ he said. ‘I hear there’s a nice pub across the road. The Frog and...?’ He paused, not remembering the name.
‘Peach,’ she supplied. ‘Sorry. I can’t.’
Can’t or won’t? he wondered. ‘Another previous engagement?’
‘Actually, yes.’
Another patient? He didn’t think she’d tell him. ‘That’s a shame. Some other time.’
But she didn’t suggest a different day or time.
He really ought to just give up.
A couple of his new colleagues had already made it clear that they’d be happy to keep him company if he was lonely. It could be fun to take them up on their offers, as long as they understood that he didn’t do permanent relationships.
Except there was something about Rosie Hobbes that drew him. It wasn’t just that she was one of the few women who didn’t respond to him; his ego could stand the odd rejection. But she intrigued him, and he couldn’t work out why. Was it that she was so different from the women he was used to, women who swooned over him or flattered him because he was a duke? Or was it something deeper?
It had been a long time since someone had intrigued him like this. Something more than just brief sexual attraction. And that in himself made him want to explore it further—to understand what made Rosie tick, and also why he felt this weird pull towards her.
Tomorrow, he thought. He’d try talking to her again tomorrow.
* * *
Rosie was five minutes late from her shift, and the twins were already waiting for her with their backpacks on. They were singing something with Nina, one of the nursery school assistants, who was clearly teaching them actions to go with the song. Rosie felt a rush of love for them. Her twins were so different: Lexi, bouncy and confident, with a mop of blonde curls that reminded Rosie a little too much of Michael, and yet other than that she was the double of Rosie at that age. And Freddie, quieter and a little shy, with the same curls as his sister except mid-brown instead of golden, and her own bright blue eyes; thankfully he hadn’t turned out to be Michael’s double. Rosie was determined that her children were going to know nothing but love and happiness for the rest of their lives—and she really hoped that they wouldn’t remember what life had been like when their father was around.
‘Mummy!’ The second they saw her, Lexi and Freddie rushed over to her and flung their arms round her.
‘My lovely Lexi and Freddie.’ Rosie felt as if she could breathe properly again, now she was back with her babies. Even though she loved her job and she knew the twins were well looked after in the nursery school attached to the hospital, she was much happier with them than she was away from them.
‘So what have you been doing today?’ she asked, holding one hand each as they walked out of the hospital.
‘We singed.’ Lexi demonstrated the first verse of ‘The Wheels on the Bus,’ completely out of tune and at full volume.
‘That’s lovely, darling,’ Rosie said.
‘And we had Play-Doh,’ Freddie added. ‘I maked a doggie. A plurple one.’
Rosie hid a smile at his adorable mispronunciation. ‘Beautiful,’ she said. She knew how badly her son wanted a dog of their own, but it just wasn’t possible with their current lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair to leave a dog alone all day; and she couldn’t leave the twins alone while she took the dog for the kind of long walk it would need after being cooped up all day, and which the twins would be too tired to do after a day at nursery school.
‘We had cookies,’ Lexie said.
‘Chocolate ones. Nina maked them. They were crum—crum—’ Freddie added, frowning when he couldn’t quite remember the new word.
Crumbly? Or maybe a longer word. ‘Nina made them,’ Rosie corrected gently, ‘and they were scrumptious, yes?’ she guessed.
‘Crumshus!’ Lexie crowed. ‘That’s right.’
The twins chattered all the way on the short Tube journey and then the ten-minute walk home. They were still chattering when Rosie cooked their tea, and gave them a bath. Although Freddie was a little on the shy side with strangers, he strove to match his more confident sister at home.
And Rosie was happy to let them chatter and laugh. She’d worried every day for the last year that their experience with Michael’s associate had scarred them; but hopefully they’d been too young to realise quite what was going on and how terrified their mother had been.
Once the twins were in bed, she curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a puzzle magazine. A year ago, she would never have believed she could be this relaxed again. Some things hadn’t changed; she was still the one who did everything for the twins and did all the cooking and cleaning. But she no longer had to deal with Michael’s mercurial mood swings, his scorn and his contempt, and that made all the difference. Being a single parent was hard, but she had the best family and good friends to support her. And she didn’t have Michael to undermine her confidence all the time.
Various friends had hinted that she ought to start dating again. Part of Rosie missed the closeness of having a partner, someone to cuddle into at stupid o’clock in the morning when she woke from a bad dream. But she’d lost her trust in relationships. Good ones existed, she knew; she’d seen it with her parents and with friends. But Rosie herself had got it so badly wrong with Michael that she didn’t trust her judgement any more. Trusting another man, after the mess of her marriage, would be hard. Too hard. Plus, she had the twins to consider. So she’d become good at turning the conversation to a different subject rather than disappointing her well-meaning friends and family, and any direct suggestions of a date were firmly met with ‘Sorry, no.’
Just as she’d rebuffed Leo Marchetti this evening, when he’d suggested that they went for a drink in the pub over the road after work.
Had she been too hard on him?
OK, so the guy was a charmer, something that set all her inner alarm bells clanging. On the other hand, today had been Leo’s first day at Paddington’s. The only person he knew at the hospital was Robyn, so he was probably feeling a bit lost. Guilt nagged at her. She’d been pretty abrupt with him, and it wasn’t his fault he’d been born with a Y chromosome and was full of charm. She needed to lighten up. Maybe she’d suggest having lunch with him tomorrow.
But she’d make it clear that lunch meant lunch only. She wasn’t in a position to offer anything more. And, if she was honest with herself, it’d be a long time before she was ready to trust anyone with anything more. If ever.
‘YOU’RE IN CLINIC with Rosie, this morning,’ Kathleen said to Leo with a smile when he walked onto the ward. ‘It’s the allergy and immunology clinic.’
‘Great.
