I do,’ the man replied rubbing his eyes with one hand, ‘but the chain broke—needs fixing.’
‘Well, I suggest you get it fixed.’ Rachel began clearing up her equipment and medication packaging. ‘And that you wear it at all times,’ she added. ‘So what caused your blood sugar to drop so low—have you missed a meal?’
‘Yeah, a couple probably—thanks to this lot.’ Paul Masters’s gaze flickered to the two police officers.
‘If you’d told us you were diabetic we could have taken the appropriate measures,’ Nick replied tersely.
‘Yeah, right,’ Paul Masters grunted. Looking hopefully up at Rachel, he said, ‘Are you going to send me to hospital?’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ said Rachel.
‘But I need time to recover,’ the man began to protest.
‘I’m sure DCI Kowalski will give you an hour or so recovery period,’ Rachel replied, ‘but first I want to check your blood sugar again.’
Ten minutes later Nick escorted Rachel out of the cell, leaving Paul Masters with the officer. ‘Was that really necessary?’ he asked as they reached Reception.
‘What?’ Rachel frowned, thinking he was questioning her treatment or diagnosis of the patient.
‘The period of recovery.’
‘Probably not.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘But it’s better to be on the safe side in these matters. I also suggest he is given something to eat.’
‘Would a three-course meal be sufficient?’ There was a trace of sarcasm in Nick’s voice now.
‘A couple of rounds of cheese sandwiches should do the trick,’ Rachel replied sweetly.
‘As if he hasn’t wasted enough police time as it is,’ muttered Nick.
‘You think he put himself into a coma deliberately?’ Rachel raised her eyebrows.
‘I wouldn’t put it past him. Let’s face it, he wasn’t wearing his tag and he must know he shouldn’t miss meals...’
‘Even so—it’s a bit drastic.’ She paused. ‘Anyway, an hour is not that long.’
‘In that case, you won’t mind coming and having a drink with me,’ Nick retorted swiftly.
‘I’m sorry?’ She stared at him.
‘You’ve put me in this position of having an hour to kill—I would say the least you could do is to keep me company in the meantime.’
‘Oh, I don’t think...’ she began, desperately trying to think of an excuse, any excuse, not to go with him. ‘I have things to do.’ It was the last thing she wanted, to establish any sort of relationship with him other than a purely professional one.
Nick, it seemed, had other ideas. ‘Nonsense,’ he said firmly, then after a brief word to the duty sergeant he took her elbow and propelled her out of the station doors. ‘What could be more important than renewing acquaintance with an old friend?’
Weakly Rachel allowed herself to be guided down the steps of the police station and a hundred or so yards down the street towards a sign, which swayed and creaked in the wind and stated quite clearly that the Red Lion served the finest ale in town. It was warm inside with a welcome from a crackling log fire, and briefly the chatter from the locals gathered around the bar ceased as they recognised Nick and curiously eyed Rachel up and down.
‘What’ll you have?’ Nick half turned to her.
‘A lager would be nice,’ she replied.
‘There’s a table over there in the corner.’ Nick nodded towards an alcove on the far side of the room. ‘I’ll bring the drinks over.’
Almost with a sense of unreality Rachel sat down and looked around the pub with its low beamed ceiling and flagstoned floor. If anyone had told her only the day before that she would be sitting here sharing a drink with Nick Kowalski, she would never have believed it. She watched him as he turned from the bar carrying two glasses and crossed the floor, placed the drinks on the table and sat down opposite her. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his glass.
‘Cheers.’
‘Yes,’ Rachel replied, ‘cheers.’ Lifting her own glass, she took a sip as Nick did likewise.
They were silent for a moment as if each of them was searching for something to say. As their eyes met across the table it was Nick who broke the silence. ‘It really is good to see you again, Rachel, after all this time.’
‘Yes, Nick.’ She nodded. ‘It’s good to see you as well.’ Suddenly she realised she meant it—it was good to see him in spite of what had happened.
‘We had some good times, didn’t we?’ he said softly.
‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘we did.’ There was something in his eyes now that was decidedly disconcerting and wildly she grabbed her glass again and took another mouthful—too much this time, which caused her to cough. ‘But...’ she spluttered, ‘it...it was all a very long time ago.’
‘True.’ Nick nodded. ‘Even so, there are some things you never forget.’ He paused, took another mouthful of his own drink then set his glass down again and leaned back in his chair. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘about this relationship you are in now...the one you feel isn’t going anywhere.’
Rachel shrugged. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Well, for a start, who is the lucky man?’
‘His name is Jeremy Lisle,’ she replied reluctantly, ‘he’s a doctor.’
‘Ah, very appropriate.’
‘What do you mean?’ She stared at him.
‘For you,’ he said, ‘and for your parents, of course. I’m sure they approve.’
‘Well, yes, they like Jeremy...’
‘Now, why doesn’t that come as a surprise?’ Nick lifted his head and laughed. It was the same easygoing, infectious laugh she remembered so well and which for a long time had haunted her dreams. ‘I’m sure they see a doctor as far more suitable marriage material for their only daughter than a mere garage hand with a rather dodgy reputation to boot.’ He paused. ‘Although, from what you say, it doesn’t sound as if there are wedding bells in the air.’ When she didn’t reply he lowered his head, tilting it to one side in order to look into her face. ‘Rachel...?’
She took a deep breath. She didn’t really want to discuss Jeremy or her relationship with anyone, least of all Nick. ‘No,’ she said coolly, ‘I don’t think there will be any wedding bells, at least not in the foreseeable future.’
‘You said this morning that you felt the relationship wasn’t going anywhere.’
‘Did I?’ How she wished she hadn’t said that. She’d hoped he might have forgotten
