on a creamy carbonara, while Richard settled for osso bucco.
‘So,’ he said when their order was in, ‘how are you finding it at the Primary?’
‘It’s fine,’ Freya said, and she saw his eyes narrow. ‘Well, it’s a bit overwhelming. I expected it to be busy, of course, but I didn’t realise it would be quite so full-on.’
‘What was it like where you worked before?’
‘I was in a birthing centre attached to a hospital. We saw the mothers for all their antenatal care, then right up to the postnatal check.’
‘How many deliveries at the centre?’ Richard asked.
‘About a hundred a year. So it’s been a big change for me to come somewhere that averages more than that in a week. Still, I wanted the experience.’
‘You could have got that more locally,’ Richard said, tearing open a bread roll. ‘The Women’s Hospital in Edinburgh surely delivers a similar amount?’
‘Yes,’ Freya agreed. ‘I did a stint there during my training. But I wanted something completely different, and it was sort of now or never.’
‘Are your parents back home?’
‘And my brothers.’ Freya nodded.
‘Do you all get on?’ he asked, because despite himself he wanted to know more. Surely there must be more of a reason she had left—not just in her work, but her home, friends and family too?
‘Oh, yes. I’ve got my own place, but I see plenty of them. The older brother, though they’re both younger than me, has got two children. I delivered the younger one.’
‘I can’t imagine having a sister-in-law, let alone being that close to her.’
‘Don’t you have siblings?’ Freya asked.
‘No, there’s just me.’
‘And are you from London?’
‘Kent.’
‘Do you get back there much?’
‘Now and then,’ Richard said, and then he hesitated.
He rarely spoke about his family, but he felt no sense of her probing beyond what he was comfortable with, and actually he found it was nice to sit and chat.
‘I see my father sometimes, and my mother’s here in London. She’s just got engaged.’ He rolled his eyes, just as their meals were delivered. ‘Again.’
Then came the pepper grinder, and the parmesan cheese, and he thought certainly they would speak about the food now, or the film they were about to see—or even, as Richard usually would, get on with flirting. And yet he was still curious to hear more about her.
‘Do you miss your old job?’
‘Yes and no,’ Freya said. ‘I was often delivering the babies of people I’d been to school with, or their wives. And I know a lot of people around town. And while it’s nice knowing your patients...’
He nodded. ‘My father’s a GP. I know only too well the downside. He was never off duty—even going out for a meal like this he’d be interrupted. The only time I remember him getting away from work was if we went on holiday, and even then patients would call him for advice.’
‘I don’t mind that so much,’ Freya admitted.
Her dismissal of the intrusion aspect of things surprised him.
‘It’s more the fact of everyone knowing everyone else’s business,’ she explained. ‘And of course when a pregnancy goes wrong it’s much harder.’
‘It’s just part of the job,’ Richard said.
‘Yes, but it’s more difficult when you know the patient.’
‘Perhaps...’
To Freya, he didn’t sound as if he necessarily agreed. ‘There’s no perhaps about it.’
He opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind. It had been a very long day, and they were here to relax after all.
Still, there was something he really would like to know. ‘Was there a break-up involved?’ he asked.
‘Sorry?’
‘Is that the reason you left—is there an ex-Mr Freya back home...’
‘No!’ She laughed. ‘I’ve never been married, but I did break up with someone earlier in the year. It really didn’t have anything to do with my decision to leave, though.’
‘Are you sure?’ Richard frowned through disbelieving eyes.
She was very guarded and, although they were chatting easily, he sensed she was being prudent in her responses.
For once he wanted to dig for the truth from a woman.
‘Well, it might have had some influence on it,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘There’s nothing much worse than going into a pub or a restaurant and knowing there’s a pretty good chance that your ex will be there. It was a bit messy, I guess.’
‘Who ended it?’
‘Me,’ Freya said. ‘We’d been together for ages and I just...’ She didn’t want to talk about Alison’s baby and the pregnancy that had gone wrong. But it had been that which had heralded the end for her and Malcolm. ‘I was going through a bit of a tough time and he didn’t help matters...’ She gave a thin smile. ‘And so, before even the very curl of his hair started to irk me, I ended it. I guess he wasn’t the love of my life.’
‘There’s no such thing,’ Richard declared. ‘Work is the only love of my life and I intend to remain faithful to that.’
‘How do you do it?’ Freya asked. ‘I know how wrung out I feel after an emergency, and yet you deal with them each day.’
‘It’s my oxygen,’ Richard said. ‘There’s nothing I’d rather be doing. Although,’ he admitted, ‘I don’t want to end up like my father. There has to be a balance. I go away a lot on my days off —try to get well away from the hospital.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘I have some choices that need to be made.’
‘Such as...?’
He gave a small shake of his head that told her not to go there. And when she didn’t push for more information Richard could have reached over and kissed her there and then.
He didn’t, of course, but the thought was there as their eyes locked.
Freya felt the heat spread over her cheeks as their eyes held, and yet she did not tear her gaze away.
God, he was good, Freya thought, for he turned her on without so much as a touch.
And despite her insistence that tonight was about
