my mind.’
Stunned, she again spoke without thinking, ‘You changed your mind after four years of study? Why?’
‘I wasn’t ready.’
‘Not ready? For what? You loved medicine. I remember all those endless nights you put in studying and not begrudging a single second. You couldn’t wait to get to university or the hospital every morning to learn more. You loved it all. There was the day you came home shouting with excitement, saying you wanted to be a surgeon, that surgery was amazing. Then months later you decided paediatrics was the greatest, all those little kids needing your care. Then—’
‘Drop it,’ Fraser snapped at her. ‘Just leave it, will you?’ The eyes he turned to her glittered angrily. His fists pounded his thighs. ‘I had a change of heart, Nik. That’s all.’
Perversely her heart swelled. He’d called her Nik, his pet name for her. No one else dared call her Nik. Until Fraser she’d hated it. Had he used it to drive his point home? Or because he still cared a little about her?
Idiot. Even if he does, it means nothing. You’re not interested in getting back with him, only in finding out why he took off in such a flaming hurry without a word of explanation.
Nothing had changed in that respect. He’d made it very clear he had no intention of telling her anything about what he’d been up to in the intervening years. She needed to mind her own business, even with Fraser. But she’d like some closure, even after all this time.
The radio squawked to life. ‘Blenheim One, stand by.’
Snatching up the handset, Fraser acknowledged, ‘Roger, Blenheim One standing by.’ His relief at the diversion throbbed between them.
Nikki pulled the ambulance over to the side of the road to wait until they found out where they were needed next. Her fingers drummed on the steering-wheel as she waited for the details. Her stomach cramped as it squeezed around yet more disappointment about Fraser. The silence between them was heavy with all the things they’d left unsaid.
Had he ever really loved her? Had he got caught up in the excitement of their relationship and popped the question without thinking the ramifications through? Unlike her. She’d always loved Fraser, had always wanted to marry him and have his babies. She shot a quick glance in his direction, saw his face in profile as he glared outside, his chin pushed forward, the corner of his mouth white with tension.
‘Blenheim One, male, nineteen years old, severe abdo pain,’ the dispatcher intoned over the radio, her voice sharp in the frosty air of the cab.
Thank goodness. With a patient to deal with they could forget everything else for a while. Forget? Or postpone?
‘Roger, Coms.’ Fraser tapped the screen to bring up the patient details.
Nikki noted the address and made a U-turn, making a mental list of the obs she’d do for a patient with abdominal pain.
Fraser appeared fascinated with the passing houses. Then he surprised her further. ‘I’m not the only one to change careers. You always talked of being a chef, and had a goal to work in a top-class restaurant. What happened to that, Nikki?’
He’d turned the tables on her. She turned them back. ‘I never went back to Dunedin after you dumped me. I quit my job and stayed at home on the farm.’ She’d never have survived returning to the city where they’d lived. ‘You must’ve noticed that much.’
His mouth tightened. Regretting asking about her past now? ‘Who do you think packed up all your gear from our flat and sent it up to your parents’ farm?’
She deflated like a balloon suddenly let go. ‘I never knew it was you. I just thought it would’ve been one of our friends.’ So it had been Fraser who’d put into one of the boxes her favourite photo of them together at St Kilda beach. It now lay at the back of the wardrobe in her old room at the farm. ‘Did you leave university then? Or later?’
He ducked that one. ‘What made you choose the ambulance service?’
She sighed. ‘Dad had an accident, rolled the tractor at the back of the farm. Luckily he was thrown clear but still copped a broken femur and a punctured lung.’ Nikki paused, reliving the scene she’d come across when her dad hadn’t come in for lunch on time. ‘At first I thought he was dying, he looked so still and pale. I freaked.’ She’d wished Fraser had been there because he’d have known what to do.
Fraser had turned to look at her. ‘A frightening situation.’
‘Terrifying. The ambulance crew were fantastic and I began to see something else I might consider doing for a job. I volunteered the next week and gave them every hour I had free.’ It had also made her feel closer to him—for a while.
‘But you always hated the sight of blood.’ Fraser shook his head.
‘I got over that really fast.’
‘But you gave up your passion. I remember those fantastic meals you created. There was never a time when there wasn’t something tasty in our fridge. Our friends used to draw straws to see who came to dinner in our cramped flat because you loved giving them gastronomically divine treats …’ His voice trailed off. ‘Oh.’
‘Exactly.’ There hadn’t been a lot of fun in cooking after they’d broken up. Cooking was her way of expressing love and friendship, and for a long while she had struggled with the whole concept. She’d got a job as junior chef at one of Blenheim’s vineyard restaurants but it had been a drag, a way of earning an income, not a lot of fun. Because her passion for food had disappeared.
Moments later Fraser said, ‘Here’s our stop. That narrow driveway by the hedge. You’ll have to park on the roadside.’ He stood and pushed through to the back, no doubt to get the pack. His hip brushed her shoulder lightly.
She braked sharply. Sucked air through her teeth. It was only a hip. An unintentional touch.
‘Hey,’ Fraser called out.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, and eased the heavy vehicle alongside the pavement. She was toast if she went hyper every time Fraser inadvertently bumped against her, because it was going to happen often working together with a patient in the crowded confines of the ambulance. She shoved her door wide, dropped to the ground with a thud, jarring her teeth. Not even halfway through day one of his training and she was going stark raving bonkers with emotions all over the place.
A girl aged in her late teens let them into the untidy house. ‘Col’s in a lot of pain. He can’t move at all.’
Nikki followed her through to the lounge, trying not to breathe deeply as the rancid stench of body odour swamped her nostrils. Looking for a clean spot to put down the pack, she asked the young man sprawled across the couch, ‘Col Hargreaves? I’m Nikki. I hear you’ve got a pain in your stomach.’ She had to shout over the din from the enormous television.
‘It’s agony,’ the man groaned.
‘Can you show me exactly where it’s hurting?’ Nikki crouched down beside the couch and, picking up the remote, lowered the noise level.
Tugging his sweatshirt up, Col stabbed the right side of his belly with his forefinger. ‘Here.’ Another poke on the left side. ‘And here.’
