away in time.
‘Patrick … I …’ She tried to push herself away but his hands were heavy on her shoulders.
‘Have dinner with me tonight?’ he asked, his tone pleading.
She opened her mouth to respond when just past his right shoulder she caught sight of Joel, coming out of one of the smaller meeting rooms used for conferencing with the relatives of patients. His dark eyes were cynical and there was a hint of something that looked very much like a smirk at the corners of his mouth.
‘Sorry, Patrick, but I promised Kellie I’d join some of the others for drinks later this evening,’ she said. ‘Maybe some other time.’
‘I’ll hold you to it,’ he said, and, pressing another quick kiss to her mouth before she could avoid it, went on his way in the opposite direction.
Joel stepped away from the doorjamb he’d been leaning against and walked towards her, his eyes very dark as they held hers. ‘Dr Tallis, no doubt you will disagree with me on principle, but perhaps it might be prudent to refrain from fraternising with members of staff in the corridors of the unit. I wouldn’t want any of our patients’ relatives to think that you’re acting unprofessionally.’
‘I wasn’t acting unprofessionally, I was just—’
‘Dr Tallis.’ His low deep tone brooked no resistance as he pointed to the room he had left a short time ago. ‘In that conference room are the parents of a young man who was admitted to ICTU a short time ago. He fell from a building site and has suspected spinal injuries. I do not think that they need to see right now two members of staff going for it in the corridor.’
She glared at him in affront. ‘We were not going for—’ But she cut herself short when out of the corner of her eye she saw the conference-room door open down the corridor. She watched in silence as a middle-aged couple came out with the head neurosurgeon, Anthony Pardle, in attendance, their faces ravaged by the emotion they were going through on hearing of the extent of their son’s injuries.
As much as Allegra wanted the last word, she knew it would be pointless. Joel had yet again stripped her of her professional dignity, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone else to witness it. She didn’t understand why he had to be so obstructive. He had been so helpful with Mr Munsfield earlier, but now it looked as if the momentary truce was at an end.
She waited until the patient’s parents and Anthony Pardle had passed before lowering her gaze and briefly apologising, even though the words felt like acid in her throat. ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, Dr Addison.’
‘Fine.’
Allegra felt the silent magnetic pull of his dark brown gaze, her breath stalling somewhere in the middle of her chest as their eyes locked. The silence was so thick she felt as if it was going to choke her. Her heart began to thump a little irregularly as his gaze slipped to her mouth for a nanosecond before returning to her wide green eyes.
‘Fine …’ he said again, running a hand through the thickness of his hair in a manner that appeared to Allegra to be slightly agitated. ‘I’ll … er … let you get back to work.’
She watched as he turned and walked with long purposeful strides up the length of the corridor, before disappearing from sight through the swing doors at the end.
She blew out a little uneven breath and gave herself a mental shake.
Don’t even think about it, she scolded herself sternly. Dr Joel Addison was definitely in the ‘too hard’ basket. And for the sake of her heart he had better stay there.
CHAPTER THREE
THE pub was noisy and crowded by the time Allegra made her way there, but she wove her way through the clots of people to the table where some of the other Melbourne Memorial staff were sitting, chatting volubly over their drinks.
Kellie waved to her as she approached. ‘Come and sit here, Allegra.’ She made room for her on the booth seat. ‘What will you have to drink?’
‘I’d better start with something soft,’ she said. ‘After five nights of on-call my head for alcohol gets a little wonky. I’ll have a lemon, lime and bitters, but you sit down—I’ll get it. Do you want a top-up?’
‘Thanks. Vodka and orange,’ Kellie said.
Allegra made her way to the bar, saying a quick hello to two of the surgical registrars who’d been on call with her the last week. After a short exchange with them she carried the drinks back to the table where Kellie was and sat down with a sigh of relief marking the end of a stressful day.
‘How’s your coma study going, Allegra?’ Margaret Hoffman, an anaesthetic registrar, asked.
Allegra exchanged a quick glance with Kellie before responding. ‘The new director doesn’t think it’s scientific enough for his exacting standards. He’s giving me a month to prove it’s worthwhile.’
‘Oh?’ Margaret looked surprised. ‘But it’s all been approved and your work on the Greeson girl was worthwhile, I thought.’
‘The Greeson girl died,’ Allegra said with a despondent sigh.
‘I know, but what you might not have realised at the time was how much it meant to her parents, having you there. I saw the way they drew comfort from you massaging their daughter’s legs and arms, touching her like a real person, instead of someone who’d been written off as a vegetable. You gave them a lot of comfort in a tragic situation, Allegra. Even if the study achieves nothing for the patient, it sure as hell gives the relatives comfort—shows that the staff are treating their loved one with dignity, like a real person.’
‘She’s right, Allegra,’ Kellie said. ‘That’s what’s missing from medicine these days. The staff are all run off their feet, no one has time any more for simple things, like holding a patient’s hand or listening to their worries or giving them a soothing back rub.’
‘I guess you’re right. But if I’m going to show anything from the study, I’m going to need the support of the director,’ Allegra said, reaching for her drink. ‘He seems against it on principle, and we haven’t exactly had the best start to a working relationship.’
‘I thought he was lovely when I met him at the welcome function,’ Margaret said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘and good-looking, too, which of course always helps.’
‘I wouldn’t care if he looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame as long as he lets me do my project—it’s really important to me,’ Allegra growled.
‘Ah, but your involvement with Patrick Naylor gives you the trump card, surely,’ Margaret said. ‘I say, why not aim for the top if you can.’
Allegra frowned as she put down her drink. ‘I’m not involved with Patrick. Not in any way. Who on earth starts these rumours?’
It was Margaret’s turn to frown. ‘But I heard him tell everyone in the doctors’ room the other day how you had dinner together. He’s really into you, Allegra. He made that very clear.’
‘He’s still officially married, for God’s sake,’ Allegra said. ‘Besides, I’m not the slightest bit attracted to him.’
‘Well,
