“
I know what
you mean about those aches and cravings,” Julia said with a grin,
“sometimes that itch is quite hard to bear.”
Harry smiled at her,
feeling the familiar twist of discomfort in her stomach, she had
locked her sexuality away, frightened about exposing her
vulnerabilities, particularly to a man that she might find
attractive.
“
Sorry honey,
I didn’t mean to touch that sore spot.”
“
It’s okay
Jules, you’re a normal girl, and any man would be lucky to have
you.”
“
They’re not
queuing up.” Julia said ruefully, and helped herself to another
poppadum.
The glorious colours of
the evening spring sky lit up the restaurant window, and back at
the hospital Chris was shaken outside of his usual preoccupation
with his patients by the clean colours and the hint that stars
might exist beyond the Manchester cloud cover. He stopped for a
moment in the car park and watched the lovely hues above the
incinerator. He'd spent the afternoon wondering whether to return
to the IT cabin and invite Harry for wine and then dinner. It was a
strategy that had worked well with nurses when he was a junior
doctor, but he remembered the way she had looked at him when he
interrupted the meeting and he had decided reluctantly that he
needed to be rather more subtle, a thought that alarmed
him.
He met Mr Patel in the
canteen the following Monday. They ate overcooked food in a
comfortable silence until Chris asked casually when the next
training meeting was. Chris had worked for the older man for a long
time before he became a consultant in his own right. They had spent
long nights in the silence of the operating theatre and days in the
packed outpatient clinics. “I've never known you to ask when a
meeting is,” his mentor said with a smile.
“
It's a very
worthy cause.” Chris said awkwardly, remembering the way her eyes
slanted when she smiled.
“
I'm glad you
think so,” Mr Patel told him, gracefully cutting a rather
unpleasant lump out of his scrambled eggs, “although if you don't
mind me saying you looked a bit distracted.”
“
She's rather
hard to miss," Chris said softly, "I've been thinking about
her."
“
Well I'm
glad. You've been far too preoccupied with your job.”
“
The trouble
is that I've got no idea how to go about things, I don’t even know
where to start.” he said, his blue eyes suddenly
intense.
“
All the
usual girl stuff tends to be very effective.” Mr Patel told him
with practiced ease, “Find out what she likes, learn what she’s
interested in and let her know that she is genuinely beautiful.”
Chris nodded, he guessed that yelling at her and backing away when
he'd seen her chair were probably a bad start.
He had the chance to
practice his lines when he found her sitting in the corridor
outside the IT suite. She was wearing a pale blouse that
accentuated the lovely warmth of her skin, and he delighted in her
curves and wondered how long he could admire her without becoming
obvious. She was sending a text and she started slightly when he
said hello.
“
Hi,” she
said, and grinned sheepishly, “Belinda always tells us not to text
in the hospital.”
“
I promise
not to tell her.”
“
Thank
you.”
“
Are you
waiting for someone?”
“
Yes,” her
gaze flashed briefly to the door marking the women’s toilets, and
he felt a flash of protective concern that he didn’t
recognise.
“
Can I help
you with anything?” he asked, taking a step closer.
She arched an eyebrow.
“Tell me you’re not offering me personal assistance.”
“
Of course
not.”
“
I’m glad to
hear it.”
He smiled hopefully at
her and tried to think through the adrenaline and pheromones
fogging his mind. “How are the blood results?”
“
Unruly, but
we’re winning at the moment.”
He launched into a
lengthy explanation of the consultant’s meeting he was walking to,
trying to spin out the story and willing her to join in the
conversation. She nodded and smiled with as much enthusiasm as she
could muster and he cast around desperately for a more interesting
topic. A plump woman in a fluorescent green jumper erupted from the
toilets, her bleeper was sounding and she vibrated with anxiety.
She stopped when she saw Chris, her anxiety visibly rising further.
Harry held out her hand and the woman tried to pass her the item as
discretely as she could. She smiled at Harry and disappeared down
the corridor.
“
Is
everything okay?” he asked finally, he wanted to tell her that he
could look after her, that she could talk to him, and that he was
usually very charming.
Harry didn’t look
charmed, she looked irritated and keen to escape. “I can’t believe
you’re making me spell this out Chris. I forgot a monthly product
that women need, and the people who built our fine hospital didn’t
think to stock the disabled toilets.”
“
Are you
going to write and complain?”
“
Not today
Chris.”
“
Do you want
to go for coffee?”
She looked up at him, and
smiled as politely as she could. “Maybe some other time.” She said
finally, wondering why surgeons seemed to know so little about
female physiology, then she disappeared back into the sanctuary of
the IT department.
Chris watched her
departure, he replayed the conversation in his head and wondered if
there was any possible way it could have gone worse. He found the
urge to run after her and ask if they could try again, but the look
of mild distain on her face was still bruising him, and he walked
slowly to the operating theatres and had a satisfying argument with
an anaesthetist.
It was almost four when
he was paged into theatre, and he worked until 7, carefully
repairing the damage caused by a motorbike and a tree. Afterwards
he wrote up the operation in his careful sentences. The charge
nurse brought him coffee and laughed at his jokes, he described the
operation to her in detail and wondered why they could talk so
easily. She reminded him of the ward night out, but he knew himself
well enough to know what would happen if her joined her and instead
he drove home in silence trying not to think about Harry. He parked
his car and his restless feet followed the path to his usual
takeaway. He had never been good with words, not when it mattered,
they tangled up in his head and led him into trouble.
He realised that she made
him feel lonely, well actually that wasn’t fair. She highlighted
the things he wanted, to feel close to someone he really cared for,
to feel that sense of intimacy, to let her know what he was
thinking. He remembered the look on her face, and felt a horrible
sense of futility, she really didn’t look as though she would
welcome the chance to know what was on his mind. He thought about
joining the ward night out, he wasn’t a poet, there was no way he
could talk his way into someone’s heart. The nurses always went to
the same bar and he pushed his hands into his pockets weighed up
his options. Afterwards he wondered what would have happened if he
had caught a bus back into town, if he hadn’t seen her sitting in
the passenger seat of a little green car that was waiting at the
lights. She was talking animatedly and gesturing with her hands,
and when she laughed he decided that if he had to, then he would
learn some poetry.
Chapter
three
Having almost counted
down the days, Chris ended up being late for the next training
meeting. He had spent the night carefully repairing a leg and the
time had slipped by. Chris took a mouthful of cold powdery coffee
and fought the urge to rush through his handover. But he knew that
he couldn't let a patient suffer because of his own desires.
Finally he was free, he moved quickly through the corridors,
savouring the memory of her smile, and the tingle he had felt when
she laughed at a remark Mr Patel had made.
The lift was out of
order, and he wondered anxiously how Harry had coped. She was
presenting when he arrived and he was acutely conscious of the fact
that he disturbed her flow. The rest of the meeting passed in a
blur while he rehearsed a sensitive way of asking her if she needed
help getting back down to the IT suite. It didn't sound sensitive
when he finally said it out loud, and he watched the colour
creeping up from her delicate throat. “That’s very kind, but
there’s no need to worry about me. There’s a service lift at the
back I can use.” she explained politely, unable to meet his
eye.
“
Would you
like a hand walking back there?” he asked, then wondered if his
choice of words was a mistake.
“
I’m fine,
but thank you.” she said firmly, and gracefully navigated her way
out of the room.
Chris took a deep breath,
he couldn’t meet Mr Patel’s eyes and he walked slowly back to the
operating theatres feeling strangely anxious. He knew himself well
enough to know that his feelings were getting stronger, and that he
was a loyal man whose emotions did not fade quickly. He remembered
the wariness in her dark eyes and reflected ruefully that he had no
idea what to do next. The stinging memories of the last time he had
really cared for someone slid intrusively into his mind; the woman
who had finally chosen his housemate. He drove home in unhappy
silence, forcing his tired eyes to focus on the road.
Nicola was washing up
when he let himself in and he hugged her, glad of the contact. “Hey
how you doing handsome?” she asked affectionately, thinking not for
the first time, that he had the most intoxicating smell.
“
I think I
might have met someone almost as interesting as you.” Chris said
easily, glad to be finally completely free of his unresolved
feelings.
“
Lucky girl,”
she said, her sudden stab of jealousy a surprise to her.
“
I don't
think she'd agree.” Chris said ruefully, “We've gotten off to the
wrong start.”
“
You can make
it right,” Nicola said warmly, annoyed with herself for her
selfishness, she had made her decision and she wanted Chris to be
happy too, “you’re very charming when you’re not too distracted.”
she added, making up her mind to support the man she cared
about.
“
I'm not sure
I can sort it Nic, I really made quite a mess of things.” He
replayed the moment when he had reacted to her chair, the hurt in
her eyes hitting him all over again.
“
Don't let
her mess you around.” She said firmly, determined to make sure this
woman was good enough.
“
It's not
like that.” he said, surprised at how protective he felt. “I've
been a complete idiot around her.”
“
Well you can
change that.”
“
I hope so,”
he said softly, wishing she didn’t make him feel like an
enthusiastic schoolboy.
Nicola grinned at him and
said with feeling. “Bring her round for dinner, I want to meet
her.”
“
I'm not sure
she's talking to me.” he said ruefully, the reality of that
statement making him feel worse. Then he smiled at her rather
unconvincingly. “Good to catch up with you. I'm going out for a
run.”
Harry felt restless too,
she took a mouthful of wine and opened her book. It was set in
Africa and she drank in the descriptions of space and freedom, and
stretched her tired shoulders. She had played a lot of tennis at
university, but her usual partner had moved to London, and she
didn’t feel confident enough to join any of the local clubs. She
missed that sense of exerting herself until she felt tired and she
rubbed her neck again and tried to relax into the freedom of her
book. Olivia and Julia let themselves in through her front door and
she gestured to the wine without looking up. “You've forgotten
haven't you.” Olivia said calmly. Harry looked at her unrepentantly
and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You absolutely promised me you'd
cook at my outdoor event in the park.” Olivia told her, trying to
sound accusing and helpful at the same time.
Harry took a deep
mouthful of wine then transferred back into her chair. “Sorry.” she
said unconvincingly.
“
Are you
okay?” Julia asked, looking at the lines of tiredness around her
lovely mouth.
“
Yes thanks.”
Harry smiled up at her and handed her the glass. Julia raised her
arm in a sympathetic toast, then drained the remnants of the wine
while Olivia led the way outside.
Tiredly, Harry reached up
and set her alarm. After a last wistful thought about the book and
sofa, she wheeled into the van and locked her chair in place. “Who
are we cooking for?” she asked with a distinct lack of
enthusiasm.
“
It's a
community event.” Olivia said as encouragingly as she could. “Get
to know your neighbours and see how fun cooking can be.”
“
So that’s
why you’re getting someone else to cook.” Harry observed
drily.
“
Well it’s
not fun watching Olivia cook.” Julia interjected reasonably and dug
a cereal bar out of the glove compartment.
“
Good point.
Where am I cooking?”
“
Moss Side,”
Olivia said, her voice still encouraging, “there’s a park that
we’re trying to reclaim from the local gang activity.”