drove in silence. Marnie was still cross, not just that Matthew had dropped by at her work but cross with herself for all she had told Harry. Cross too that Matthew had interrupted them.
‘The ballet will be great,’ Matthew said, as he dropped her off. ‘Get you back to civilisation.’
Far from being offended, she actually laughed. Maybe she did need a night of being spoilt, it might stop the constant thoughts about Declan’s birthday.
And about Harry.
As she went to get a drink of water from the staff kitchen she was met by a very stony-faced Harry, who was rinsing his mug.
‘Nice lunch?’
‘Lovely, thanks.’
‘Your boyfriend—?’
‘Boyfriend?’ Marnie rapidly interrupted. ‘I’m thirty-one—I’m a bit old for boys.’
‘Sorry.’ Harry gave a wry grin. She was the most impossible person he had ever met, yet, for reasons of his own, which he didn’t really want to examine, he ploughed on. ‘Your partner, then?’
‘Partner?’ Marnie challenged him right there and then. She was sick of men and the different rules that applied to them, and Marnie told him so. Despite never gossiping herself, Marnie was very clued in and had heard all the rumours about Harry. ‘Is that what you called your last nanny? Your partner, your girlfriend?’ Harry let out a breath as Marnie continued, ‘Or did you upgrade her title to your live-in lover?’
‘I was just going to say he seemed nice.’
‘Well, I’ll let you know when I need your opinion.’
Marnie dived into work, refusing to go to her office because that would look like she was hiding. And why would she be hiding? There was nothing to feel embarrassed or awkward about—a friend had merely dropped in to take her to lunch.
It was just that Marnie didn’t like her worlds colliding and, as the afternoon progressed, the tension seemed to increase. Near home time she glanced up and briefly caught sight of a very dark-looking Harry walking past, and she knew it wasn’t just that Matthew had dropped by that was unsettling her.
It was Harry.
In a nice way, though.
There was a tiny flutter in her chest as she met his eyes and it was still fluttering as she looked away and tried to concentrate on what Kelly was calling out to her.
‘Sorry?’ She looked at Kelly.
‘There’s a guy on the phone for you,’ Kelly repeated. ‘He says it’s personal.’
‘I’ll bet it is,’ Harry muttered, but thankfully well out of earshot.
What the hell did Matthew want now? Marnie thought as she made her way over. Only it wasn’t Matthew calling her at work and she saw Harry’s jaw grit as she said another man’s name.
‘Ronan, what are you doing, phoning me at work?’
He wanted to take the receiver from her and replace it. He wanted to turn her round and tell her part of the reason for his dark mood.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
HARRY REACHED FOR his jacket. It was ten to five and he was in no mood for another dose of salt to be rubbed into a very raw wound, and anyway he had to get to his parents to pick up the twins and inspect them for chickenpox.
Fun!
‘Are you heading off?’ Dr Vermont said, and Harry nodded.
‘You’re not in tomorrow?’ Dr Vermont checked.
‘I can’t leave them with my parents for too long,’ Harry said, and Dr Vermont nodded. He knew Harry’s father’s health wasn’t brilliant and the twins were hard work at the best of times. By the time Harry had signed off on some paperwork, Marnie had gathered her bag and was walking briskly through the department, jangling her car keys.
‘You’re in a rush, Marnie,’ Dr Vermont commented, because Marnie never usually left till well past six. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I’ll be back,’ Marnie said. ‘My brother just called and he’s cut himself—his finger. I’m just going home to fetch him and bring him in.’
‘I’ll stay around to see him,’ Dr Vermont said, and Marnie gave a grateful smile, though, in truth, it was a bit of a forced one because she desperately wanted Harry to offer to stay back. He was, as she was starting to find out, not just considered the best hand surgeon in the hospital but one of the top in the country.
Harry made no offer; instead, he joined her as she headed out.
She walked to the car park with him. Their footsteps were rapid and the atmosphere between them was tense but it was Harry who broke the strained silence. ‘Do you think it’s serious?’
‘It’s deep. I told him to make dinner and he couldn’t find my tin-opener so he decided to use a knife…’ She was waffling, stupidly feeling guilty for insisting that Ronan cook, but she was evading the real answer, not because she didn’t want to tell Harry, more because she didn’t want to think what it might mean to Ronan. ‘He says it’s bad.’ Harry could hear the slight panic in her voice as she elaborated, ‘I’m worried he might have cut a tendon.’
‘You haven’t even seen it yet.’ Harry was practical.
‘He plays the piano.’ Marnie glanced at Harry. ‘I mean—he plays it really well.’ She closed her eyes for a second. If Ronan had indeed injured his tendon it was going to be a tough few months ahead for him, with no guarantee his hand would return to full dexterity.
‘If he has injured his tendon, Dr Vermont will refer him to Stuart. He’s on tonight and he’s a great surgeon.’
She wanted Harry.
They were now at her car and, given how inflexible Marnie had been with his children, she was in absolutely no position to ask him a favour, except it was Ronan. For that reason, and that reason only, Marnie swallowed her pride and went to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Harry watched as she ran one of those very beautiful hands through her dark hair as again she tried to swallow her pride.
For Ronan, Marnie told herself.
‘If it needs doing, is there any chance of you repairing it tomorrow?’ There were two spots of colour appearing on her pale cheeks. ‘If Dr Vermont orders it to be elevated tonight, you could—’
‘I’m not coming in tomorrow.’
‘Oh, I thought you were on.’
‘No.’
When Harry didn’t elaborate, Marnie just nodded and got into her car. She
