“You haven’t changed a bit, have you, David?”

“I’m older and wiser.” David’s smile was relaxed, but he felt disturbed. Just how much of a reputation had he left behind? Okay, so he’d played hard. But not that often and only as a counterbalance to the effort he put into his work. At thirty-three, David knew he was exceptionally young to have gained this surgical consultancy. He also knew that he deserved it, and he was looking forward to proving his abilities and commitment. This idea that he was a good-time guy might be an obstacle to professional acceptance.

Alison Roberts was born in New Zealand, and, says she, “lived in London and Washington, D.C., as a child and began my working career as a primary school teacher. A lifelong interest in medicine was fostered by my doctor-and-nurse parents, sharing apartments with doctors and physiotherapists on leaving home and marriage to a housesurgeon, who is now a consultant cardiologist. I have also worked as cardiology technician and research assistant. My husband’s medical career took us to Glasgow for two years, which was an ideal place and time to start my writing career. I now live in Christchurch, New Zealand, with my husband, daughter and various pets.”

A Change of Heart
Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

HEARTSTOPPING!

David James knew his heart had stopped because he was a doctor and knew about such things. He also felt the distinct thump a second later which indicated that the organ in question had decided to make up for its momentary lapse. The surprising force of the thump still failed to break the mesmerising effect of the moment.

David James was a firm believer in lust at first sight but this was definitely one for the books! She had to be the most stunning woman he’d ever seen and so far he was only getting a profile. Tall, slim, shoulder-length wavy, dark blonde hair, expertly streaked with threads of silvery gold. He couldn’t see her eyes but they would have to be blue…David finally became aware that the voice beside him had continued unabated. With an effort he managed to change the static-like buzz back into words.

‘So we had a bit of a reshuffle. This office seemed the perfect choice, being at the surgical end of the cardiology suite.’

‘I hope I haven’t put anyone out.’ The husky drawl was a bit of a giveaway but had certainly not been intentional. Was it wishful thinking or did his voice have the effect of causing a momentary freezing of her decisive movements? The box was almost overflowing in any case.

‘Oh, no. Lisa didn’t mind a bit.’

Lisa. Perfect! It went with that elegantly tailored clothing. That fitting black skirt with the provocative little slit that went from the above-knee hem to halfway up her thigh. David rearranged his face into what he hoped was his most charming expression as the head of Christchurch Hospital’s cardiothoracic surgical team launched into a formal introduction.

‘Lisa, this is our new consultant surgeon, David James.’ Alan Bennett’s smile reminded David of a proud parent. ‘David, I’d like you to meet Lisa Kennedy, senior cardiology registrar. You two will probably be seeing quite a lot of each other.’

Play nicely, children, his tone suggested. Not a problem, David’s expression assured his senior colleague as the vision turned her head towards them for the first time. Her eyes weren’t blue, they were brown. Dark brown. Even better!

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ David said aloud. He felt his smile widen further than he’d intended. It felt disturbingly close to a leer. Hastily he cleared his throat. ‘I seem to have been a disruptive influence, even before walking in the door. I do apologise, Lisa. I had no idea I’d be kicking anyone out of their office.’

‘As Alan said, it was the obvious choice. Like everything else in the public health system, floor space is at a premium. And, as Alan also said, I don’t mind a bit.’

The tone was sweet. It just didn’t match the flash of annoyance in those velvety brown eyes or the defensive tilt of her chin. Lisa Kennedy minded all right. Fair enough, too. It was a very nice office. The window had a view out to the Avon River with the glorious backdrop of the botanical gardens. Where was she going now? Probably some windowless cubbyhole down behind the exercise testing laboratory. Never mind, he’d make it up to her. His smile was understanding. Sympathetic—but helpful.

‘Let me give you a hand with that.’

‘No, thanks, I can manage.’ Lisa hurriedly added a couple of items to the top of the carton and folded her arms around its edges. David’s glance took in the elegantly tapered fingers of her left hand. Not a ring in sight! He was straightening, ready to prove his helpful intentions by insisting on carrying the box, when his companion’s beeper sounded.

‘I’ll have to go and scrub,’ Alan Bennett informed them. ‘I’ll leave you to get settled in, David, and we’ll continue our tour later. You’ll find quite a few of the old crowd still around so you should feel at home pretty quickly.’

‘I do already.’ David smiled. ‘It’s good to be back.’

Alan nodded and returned the smile as he turned away. ‘You were a very popular choice for the consultancy. I wonder if so many people would welcome me back if I disappeared for a few years.’

David laughed easily but he had been surprised himself by the warmth of the welcome he’d received up until now. Up until he’d stepped into this office, in fact. Decisively, he moved forward.

‘Do let me take that, Lisa. It looks heavy.’

‘I said I can manage.’ Lisa took a sideways step to evade his touch on the box. The slippery journal covers on the top layer refused to support the final item added and it slid with remarkable speed to land on the floor with a thud. A large, plastic, anatomical model of a heart, it now lay in several pieces.

David swore softly but then felt the corners of his mouth lift and couldn’t suppress the smile.

‘I seem to have broken your heart, Lisa.’

She could smile. Even the fleeting glimpse of the accomplishment was enough to make something inside David tighten with a very pleasurable sensation.

‘Par for the course for you, from what I’ve heard, Mr James. Still, I imagine it takes first prize for speed.’

What did she mean? The tone did not suggest an attack but there was an edge to it that made David’s hackles rise defensively.

‘I’m sure anything you’ve heard is grossly exaggerated, Lisa. Pure fiction. Such rumours generally are.’ He stooped to pick up the pieces of the model. ‘Let me see if I can repair the damage. I’m a doctor, I know about things like this.’ His smile was back in place as he straightened. He would give her the benefit of the doubt and try again.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ Her tone was offhand. ‘I can assure you my heart’s quite indestructible.’

This time the message was clear. David’s smile finally wilted under what could only be described as a chilly stare.

‘I have a ward round I should have started ten minutes ago,’ she informed him crisply. ‘Just put anything else in that empty box and I’ll come back for it later.’

David found himself staring at the chunks of moulded plastic in his hands after Lisa swept past with her carton. She was right, of course. The solid model clipped together with a series of small brass hooks and eyes. Even its stand was unscathed. Had she intended the inuendo that the genuine article was equally impervious to damage? Quite possibly, David conceded. Lisa Kennedy obviously liked to project an image that advertised strength and competence. If the packaging hadn’t been quite so attractive she might even come across as intimidating. Certainly not the type of woman David James gravitated towards.

He had to admit that her indifference to their introduction rankled. Rejection was not an experience David was accustomed to, especially from women. Taking over her office might not have been the best start but was an obstacle that could easily be overcome. Even rumours concerning any past relationships—and he had to admit there had been a few—could be laid to rest. Unfortunately, it was more likely that Lisa Kennedy was firmly attached elsewhere even if she wasn’t married and would therefore be immune to any amount of charm he could turn on. That was a far more likely explanation. Who could look like that and not have been snapped up long ago?

With a resigned sigh, David deposited his briefcase onto the desk top and flipped open the catches. Never mind, it was still great to be back. As his indrawn breath caught the lingering trace of perfume in the office David found himself smiling. She might come across as being tough but there had to be a sensual side to a woman who wore Chanel to work. The decisive head shake as he unpacked and connected his laptop computer should have been enough to clear the distracting images of the woman from his mind, but David James was vaguely delighted to find that it failed so noticeably.

He was actually grinning as he sent himself an e-mail to test his new connection. Unexpectedly, it reminded him of his fourth-form science class when that new student teacher had taken over. Miss Drummond. Blonde hair down to her waist and legs up to her armpits. Memories of words in the science textbook blurring into total irrelevance and an entire classroom of adolescent boys squirming uncomfortably at their desks widened David’s grin even further. Even he had been in danger of dropping his position at the top of the class until he’d realised that the most effective way to get Miss Drummond’s attention was to excel.

It had been a valuable lesson that had served David well over the years but until now had been simply a distant memory. Had Lisa Kennedy had that much effect on his circulating levels of testosterone? Yes. He had to admit that it seemed the only explanation for the uncharacteristic sprint down memory lane.

With a determined effort David turned his thoughts back to his surroundings and left the office. He had worked too hard to get here to have his concentration undermined the instant he walked through the door. He poked his head through an adjacent doorway.

‘Hello again, Sue.’

His secretary looked up from her typing. Her smile was welcoming. Very welcoming. ‘Is there something I can do for you, Mr James?’

‘You can call me David, for a start.’ He watched the faint flush of colour stain the girl’s neck as she nodded. ‘I’m just off to chase up a white coat and collect my pager. Perhaps you could give me a beep in half an hour so I can test it.’

‘I’ll get them for you if you like,’ Sue offered eagerly.

‘No. Thanks anyway, Sue, but I’m rather looking forward to exploring my old stamping ground. I’ll expect a beep from you, though.’

The call came precisely thirty minutes later and David smiled as he put down the phone. A reliable and helpful secretary was a definite bonus. Like a lot of the nursing staff, Sue had probably still been at high school the last time David had worked here.

The familiar faces were all amongst the senior staff and David was thoroughly enjoying their surprised and delighted reactions as he came across them. Like Jane Maddon, who had had changed her surname but looked just the same and who was now the nurse manager of the twin cardiology wards that flanked the intensive coronary care unit.

‘I knew you’d come back eventually,’ she informed David, having given him a hug. ‘You were so determined.’

‘I love Christchurch.’ David nodded. ‘And a few years out of the country makes you appreciate what we’ve got even more.’

‘I kept up with the occasional bit of news. Last I heard you were in Washington, D.C.’

‘That was over two years ago. I had eighteen months in Europe after that and then had some time with a transplant unit in London. I think that experience might have been what swung the decision for this consultancy in my favour.’

‘There were a lot of applicants,’ Jane confirmed. ‘Some were a lot older than you, too. Well done, David.’

‘Thanks.’ David smiled modestly.

‘The parties were never as good after you left,’ Jane added with a wistful grin. Then she frowned. ‘You haven’t gone and got married or anything, have you?’

‘No chance. I was hoping you’d wait for me.’

‘Oh, sure!’ Jane’s expression was knowing. ‘I’m delighted to say you’re too late.’ Then she laughed. ‘I’d forgotten just how cute you were, mind you. All those curls and those wonderful dark blue eyes. They’re going to be queuing up around here. You haven’t changed a bit, have you, David?’

‘I’m older and wiser.’ David’s smile was relaxed but he felt disturbed. Just how much of a reputation had he left behind? OK, so he’d played hard. But not that often and only as a counterbalance to the effort he put into his work. At thirty-three, David knew he was exceptionally young to have gained this surgical consultancy. He also knew that he deserved it, and he was looking forward to proving his abilities and commitment, as well as undoing this idea that he was a good-time Charlie, which might be an obstacle to professional acceptance.

‘I’m just on my way to check out the surgical ward,’ he told Jane. ‘I don’t start officially until tomorrow.’

‘You should be impressed. It’s a great set-up.’ Jane Maddon switched from old friend to professional colleague without blinking. ‘Post-Cardiac Surgery Intensive Care is attached to the main ICU and the ward is right beside that. Come and have a look at CCU on your way. We’ve just upgraded the whole monitoring system. State-of-the-art technology.’

Jane was right. The technology was impressive and David was particularly interested by the screens which gave closed-circuit-television coverage of the most acutely ill patients. The group of staff standing by the bedside of number eight was headed by an unmistakable figure. He couldn’t hear what Lisa Kennedy was saying but the examination seemed to be complete. The staff were moving away, Lisa pausing to have a final word with the patient, who was still smiling as he watched his doctor leave. David’s glance flicked down to the other monitors attached to bed eight.

‘You’ve certainly got all the bases covered.’ He indicated a small button. ‘I suppose this gives a printout of the ECG?’

Jane nodded. ‘It does it automatically when it recognises an arrhythmia.’

‘His blood pressure’s low.’ David was staring at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘In fact, it’s still dropping.’

‘Is it?’

David’s eyes were back on the television screen. The curtains had been pulled open again around bed eight and he could see Lisa’s back as she stood near bed seven. He heard Jane’s muttered curse as she moved quickly away from the control desk and he caught the change in the ECG pattern out of the corner of his eye, but it was Lisa Kennedy he was watching. How had she known to turn back to her previous patient at precisely that point? A lightning glance at the monitor confirmed that the rhythm had slipped into the uncontrolled squiggles of ventricular fibrillation that heralded a cardiac arrest and the printout of the thin rhythm strip had begun, but it was several seconds before the alarm began to sound.

By that time Lisa had pushed the cardiac-arrest button on the wall to summon the crash team, had knocked the bed end into a horizontal position and removed the patient’s pillows, pushing his bedside table out of the way as another doctor replaced it with the unit’s crash trolley. Jane Maddon hurriedly pulled the curtains to screen the emergency from the horrified gaze of other patients but David had a bird’s-eye view thanks to the television screen.

The staff worked as a close team. David, frustrated at his own inaction, watched as conduction pads were slapped on, positioned over the apex and bottom of the patient’s heart, his bedding and clothing hastily thrown aside. It was Lisa who held the defibrillator paddles and he could almost hear her command to stand clear as other staff stepped back. He cringed inwardly as the patient jerked convulsively and then his gaze moved away from the screen as the crash team arrived at a run.

Despite the seniority of the extra staff, Lisa continued to direct the resuscitation and David’s eyes were riveted to the screen as he watched the CPR, intubation and further defibrillation of the patient. He found he had been holding his breath, which he released in a sigh as the spikes of a normal sinus rhythm began to drift across the screen in front of him.

‘Too slow,’ he muttered, surprised by the murmur of agreement behind his shoulder. He had been totally unaware that other staff members had joined him to observe the crisis. Nobody had switched off the automatic recording of the abnormal rhythms and the strip of ECG paper was now pooling around his ankles. They all watched as Lisa injected the drugs she had ordered, presumably including atropine, and there was a collective sigh of relief within the next minutes as the observers saw the evidence of the patient regaining consciousness.

‘Score one for our side, I think,’ a nurse pronounced as she moved away.

Score another one for Lisa Kennedy, David amended silently. He was still watching as the crash team left and Lisa and the other unit staff tidied up. He could hear the laughter and joking and recognised the sense of euphoria he knew existed between staff in the aftermath of a desperate situation. He would very much have liked to have been included but could only smile his congratulations as Lisa and her companion passed the desk on their way out.

‘Well done, Lisa,’ he said warmly. ‘I’m most impressed.’

‘Thanks.’ The smile didn’t quite reach those brown eyes. ‘But you must be easily impressed. It’s just part of the job around here.’

‘I’m sure Mr Steel wouldn’t agree.’ David enjoyed the surprised flicker in her expression at his knowledge of the patient’s name. Then he saw her glance towards the monitors and the television screen. Her expression changed as she realised how closely David had been able to observe the incident. Fascinated by her changing expression, David wondered if Lisa Kennedy had any awareness of how her face revealed her thoughts. Her body language was expressive too. Like the infinitesimal shrug that said it was of no importance that he’d been watching her. He could almost see the effort with which she made her gaze carefully neutral when she transferred it back in his direction.

‘I don’t think you’ve met our junior registrar, Mr James. This is Sean Findlay.’

‘Call me David.’ He held out his hand to the registrar. ‘I’m not big on formality.’ His gaze included Lisa but it only Sean who nodded and returned the smile. He sighed inwardly. Was establishing a friendly relationship with Lisa Kennedy always such an uphill battle or was it something about him?

Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted Jane’s offer of a tour around the cardiology wards but it hadn’t occurred to David that it might coincide with Dr Kennedy’s round. Neither had he had any intention of staring at the woman every time she came into view. It had to be coincidence that she managed to catch his eye every time she glanced in his direction. Or could it be that she felt the same attraction and found, like him, that she seemed to have lost automatic control over her visual targets? If so, she was very good at covering it up. Her expression became increasingly exasperated and David felt it was not before time that he headed off to explore the surgical set-up.

The unfortunate timing of his exit from the ward was more than coincidence. It was sheer bad luck. The last thing he wanted was to irritate her further by disrupting her day yet again. But what could he have done? The woman coming down the corridor was the size of an elephant. The bars on her walking frame looked seriously strained and David instinctively stepped aside to remove himself from the path of what appeared to be a human steamroller. The momentum was deceptive, however, and David found himself blocking the purposeful approach of Lisa Kennedy.

‘Excuse me.’

There was nowhere to go. Jane was behind him. Lisa in front. The mountain of flesh on his left had rolled to a standstill and was breathing with alarming difficulty.

‘Use your puffer, Mrs Judd,’ Lisa ordered calmly. ‘Have you got it with you?’

The incongruously small head nodded slowly. Sausage-like fingers inched along the bar towards a fold in a baby pink candlewick dressing-gown that looked like a bedspread. David’s lips twitched. Hell, it probably needed to be a bedspread. He wanted to catch Lisa’s eye to see if she was sharing any amusement in the situation but Lisa was looking over his shoulder at Jane.

‘Do you have any idea where Mr Benson is?’

‘Having an echo, I think.’

Mrs Judd was having difficulty locating her pocket. She tilted towards David who stepped forward involuntarily. Lisa was forced to step backwards. She looked annoyed.

‘And Mrs Chisholm?’

‘She was on the list for a nuclear scan but she might still be in the shower.’

Mrs Judd had found her inhaler. It seemed to be an effort for her to raise it to her lips. David heard her gasp and had a horrifying vision of trying to resuscitate Mrs Judd here in the corridor. He drew in a deep breath and was again aware of the evocative scent of Chanel. But Lisa Kennedy was looking anything but sensuous.

‘It would be nice—just occasionally—if I could find my patients in their beds when I wanted to do a ward round.’

Jane laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Lisa.’

Mrs Judd was moving again and David found himself deserted. He watched as Lisa disappeared into the ward office with Jane, before moving off himself with a small shrug. Why did he have the feeling that he was a major contributor in what was shaping up to be a bad day for Lisa Kennedy? And why did his thoughts keep returning to the senior registrar even hours later when he had finished his tour of the respiratory wards and lunched with their senior staff.

It had to be the novelty of an attractive woman apparently disliking him on sight that had sparked this preoccupation. It wouldn’t take long to readjust to a professional standpoint and then they’d probably get on just fine. She was obviously good at what she did and she would soon recognise that he was also more than competent. He would gain her respect at least. And after that? a small voice whispered. David ignored the question. After that, who knew what might happen? Things had a habit of sorting themselves out. It was really only a matter of time.

And time could often pass more quickly with a little push. David’s attention was caught by the display outside the hospital’s gift shop but he hadn’t expected to find Lisa in residence when he managed to track down her new office. He had intended to simply leave the single red rose along with the other items in the small box he carried. With dismay he now realised that the gesture might not have been such an inspiration after all.

‘I felt bad about the office,’ he explained. The rose now seemed totally inappropriate but he handed it over anyway. Her expression was unreadable but maybe there was just a trace of amusement there.

‘Thanks.’ She tilted the rose towards the box he carried. ‘I see you’ve fixed my heart as well.’

‘My pleasure. It’s what I was trained for after all.’

The reward of a smile was encouraging but David was uncomfortably aware of the reverberation of a treadmill gaining speed next door. When Sean Findlay entered the office it also felt distinctly crowded. The young registrar dumped a pile of case notes onto the second desk and vanished with a cheerful grin. The sound of the treadmill increased. David glanced out of the small window and found he could see directly into a side room of one of the cardiology wards. Mrs Judd was standing at the window. Divested of her candlewick bedspread, she was now wearing an unfortunately diaphanous nightgown. Lisa had followed her gaze.

‘Just as well you weren’t given this office,’ she commented lightly. ‘It wouldn’t do to provide a surgeon with such blatant distractions.’

Something about her inflection made David’s gaze transfer swiftly. ‘You’ve got something against surgeons?’

‘Nothing personal.’ Lisa’s smile looked mechanical. ‘I’m sure you get a lot of job satisfaction.’ She toyed with the rose she was still holding.

David leaned his back against the windowframe. So this was what the attitude was all about. He smiled encouragingly. ‘What’s so wrong with being a surgeon?’

‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong. Quite the opposite.’ Lisa’s eyebrows moved up expressively. ‘A surgeon is the best thing to be. Ask any patient. Wait for that awed gaze when they know they’re going to be referred. They’re going to see the real thing.’ Her chuckle was genuine enough. ‘God holding a knife. A chance of a real cure.’

David held onto his smile with increasing difficulty. ‘OK, so it’s a bit more glamourous. That’s not my fault.’

‘More glamourous, more important, more skilled and more highly paid. A hell of a lot more highly paid.’

‘Ah! Now we get down to it.’ David’s smile was forgotten. ‘You’re jealous!’ David felt a flash of annoyance at her belligerent attitude and his control slipped significantly. ‘So what stopped you becoming a surgeon, then? Course too tough?’

‘Typical!’ It was a wonder the rose didn’t wilt under the heat suddenly generated around it. ‘You’re not good enough to be a cardiac surgeon so you take the easy route and become a cardiologist. Exactly the attitude from most surgeons and more than most of the general public. What you—and they—fail to appreciate is that you couldn’t function without us.’

‘Really?’ David’s anger had been overidden by a very different emotion. He had never been tempted to try the line that a woman looked beautiful when she was angry but, then, he wasn’t in the habit of making women angry. Passionately angry, judging by the play of expression before him now. The rose was tossed aside.

’Really.’ It was a snap like a steel trap. ‘Who diagnoses these patients? Keeps them alive and makes the decision about whether surgery is even necessary?’

David couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her guard had really slipped now. He had never seen a face quite so alive. ‘I think we might have a little input into that one,’ he suggested evenly. Lisa ignored him.

‘Who continues the care after the surgery? They’re our patients from go to whoa. Sure, we might need the technical assistance with a bit of replumbing in the interim but that’s as far as it goes. We create your workload and we pick up the pieces afterwards. And we carry the can for any less than successful interventions. Envious! Listen, I know who the real doctors are.’

The end of the tirade coincided with the abrupt termination of the neighbouring exercise test. The silence was startling. David was still staring at Lisa. He had been watching her mouth with fascination, the soft, mobile lips now set into an uncompromising line. He met her eyes, disappointed to find that the fire had been extinguished. David raised an eyebrow eloquently but said nothing. The blush he saw appearing was unexpected.

‘Sorry.’ She looked away and her voice dropped to a mutter. ‘I shouldn’t take it out on you.’

‘Take what out?’ David’s curiosity was aroused. Perhaps there was more going on than an irrational professional intolerance.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It seems to matter quite a lot.’ David tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘If I’m stepping into some political minefield, I’d prefer to get some idea of whose toes I should avoid treading on. Apart from those I’ve irreparably damaged already.’

‘Oh ? Like whose?’

‘Yours. You weren’t exactly happy at being evicted from your office—at least not by a surgeon.’

‘I don’t give a damn about the office. I knew it was only a temporary luxury. It wasn’t that I was…’ She shook her head and then pushed a stray curl back from her face. ‘Never mind. Don’t concern yourself about my toes, David. They’re indestructible.’ The smile was apologetic, embarrassed even, and David was happy to return it despite the attack to which his specialty had been subjected.

‘Like your heart, yes?’

‘You got it.’ Lisa nodded, reaching for the phone as her beeper sounded. The silence was brief. ‘What’s the blood pressure now? OK, stop the TPA infusion. I’m on my way.’

She was gone. David moved slowly as he followed her example. Without her physical presence he found himself thinking more about exactly what she’d said. So, he was a glorified plumber, was he? Nothing personal, though. Strangely enough, the attack hadn’t felt personal at the time, but David found a new wariness nibble at the edge of his confidence. If that was the general attitude of the whole cardiology department then the obstacle to gaining respect might be a much bigger hurdle than simply exorcising any rumours about his past.

Thank goodness for a friendly face. It was late that afternoon that David encountered a welcome he’d been waiting for. It came at the end of what now seemed like a very long day.

‘Mike! Where the hell have you been hiding?’

‘Cath lab all morning. Then we had an emergency angioplasty this afternoon. Some of us have to earn a living, mate.’

David shook his head, confident that Lisa Kennedy’s opinion of surgeons was not being reinforced from this quarter. ‘It’s good to see you, mate. You’ve been the world’s worst correspondent.’

Michael Foster grasped the outstretched hand and then slapped David on the shoulder. ‘Look who’s talking! We must have about five years to catch up on. God, it’s good to see you, Dave.’

‘Likewise. Got time for a coffee?’

‘I’ll make time. What’s the point in being a consultant if you can’t manage that?’

‘I thought you’d be head of the cardiology department by now.’

‘Give me time. I’ve had a rough couple of years.’

‘Oh?’ David’s face was concerned as he followed his friend into the small staffroom. ‘What’s happened, Mike?’

‘Anne and I split up six months ago. Things were pretty difficult for a long time before that.’ Mike spooned coffee into the mugs but glanced up to catch David’s expression. He laughed ruefully. ‘You were right all along, mate. Marriage is the quickest way to ruin a good relationship.’ He handed David a steaming mug. ‘I should have listened to that lecture you gave me. I just wish you hadn’t waited until my stag night.’

David smiled but was disturbed by the shadows in Mike’s eyes. He tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘You should have listened,’ he said sternly. ‘Like I always said, ‘‘Why buy a book when you’ve got a whole library to choose from?’’’

The incredulous snort from behind David made his head turn sharply. In his concern for Mike he had managed to walk right past the figure curled into the armchair beside the door. Mike followed his glance.

‘Have you met my registrar, Dave? This is Lisa Kennedy.’

‘We’ve met.’ David winked at Lisa. ‘In fact, I’ve already broken her heart.’

Mike laughed. ‘That was quick even for you, mate. But I don’t believe a word of it. Lisa’s the one that leaves the trail of broken hearts around here. The job description for that vacancy is a bit hard to measure up to, isn’t it, Lisa?’

‘Oh, please!’ Lisa uncurled her long legs from the depths of the armchair and reached for her shoes. ‘I’m sure David James isn’t remotely interested in my love life, Mike.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ David murmured. He watched appreciatively as Lisa eased on her narrow, heeled black shoes. Very elegant footwear, he concluded. And a perfect match for the rest of her outfit.

‘Well, I’m not remotely interested in sharing it.’ Lisa stood up gracefully. With her heeled shoes she was only an inch or two shorter than David’s height of six feet.

Mike laughed. ‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’d better watch out, though. You’ll probably be well up on David’s required reading list.’

Lisa deposited her mug into the sink, turned and met David’s eyes with a direct stare.

‘My collection doesn’t include paperbacks, sorry. Or over-popular fiction. I prefer something with a bit more quality…and durability.’

Mike’s exaggerated indrawn breath feigned fear at Lisa’s attack beautifully. Much to David’s relief, it was enough to break the hold that Lisa’s eye contact was having. Her short chuckle was dismissive. ‘See you later, Mike. Some of us have work to do.’

David wasn’t included in the farewell. Something flicked off at the dismissal and David was acutely aware of an emotional U-turn. OK, he’d been attracted but now he’d come to his senses. He’d been wrong in his assumption that the woman was attached and now he could see why. With blinding clarity. She was rude, snooty and totally unapproachable. And as for her attitude towards surgeons! Well, David James knew where he wasn’t welcome and he certainly wasn’t going to waste any more time trying. Lisa Kennedy wasn’t going to be on any list as far as he was concerned.

Mike hadn’t failed to notice the line of David’s intense stare.

‘Gorgeous, isn’t she?’

‘Mmm.’ David’s tone was carefully noncommittal. ‘Shame about the personality.’

CHAPTER TWO

PERHAPS it wasn’t so great to be back after all.

Feeling out of sorts was such an infrequent experience that David was seriously disturbed. Lack of sleep hadn’t helped. Had it been a medical emergency that had kept him awake most of the night he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. In fact, the adrenaline would still be running and he’d be in top form for at least another twelve hours. It was his accommodation that was problematic. The temporary arrangement for the room in the staff quarters had seemed perfect, but the walls were thin and the young medic next door had clearly scored in a big way with a woman who seemed to find the whole business excruciatingly funny. A pneumatic drill would have been much less disruptive than her giggles. Even when he’d finally managed to fall asleep the experience had been less than restful.

‘It was a nightmare,’ he related solemnly to Mike Foster. ‘Crushing chest pain, electrodes plastered all over me and Lisa Kennedy standing at the end of the bed…Smiling.’ He punctuated his tale with a woeful groan.

Mike grinned. ‘Lisa’s OK. Don’t judge her on the basis of one bad day.’ He pointed to a fire-stop door coming up on their right. ‘Let’s take a short cut.’ Mike led the way up the stairs. ‘If anybody’s kept me sane over the last year it’s been Lisa.’ He shot his companion a quizzical glance. ‘In fact, she’s a lot like you.’

‘What a ghastly thought!’

‘She works bloody hard, plays just as hard, great sense of humour…’ Mike was sounding breathless. ‘And a body to die for.’

‘I plan to keep living,’ David muttered.

‘You’d be perfect for each other.’

‘I doubt it. She thinks I’m a glorified plumber. A knife-wielding technician with a God complex. Surgeons suck.’

‘Ah! Well, there’s a bit of a history there.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Despite himself David felt curious. By tacit agreement the two men paused at the top of the stairs, screened from the corridor by another set of fire-stop doors. ‘Perhaps you’d better fill me in.’

‘Have you met Lewis Tanner yet?’

David shook his head. The hospital’s third cardiothoracic surgeon had not put in an appearance during his tour of introduction yesterday.

‘Lewis arrived about eighteen months ago—about the same time Lisa started here. ‘‘Sex on wheels’’, as one nurse was heard to report. Wealthy, confident, charming and…single.’

‘And Dr Kennedy fell for him.’ David nodded, feeling somehow disappointed.

‘Not exactly. He fell for Lisa—in a big way. She did go out with him a few times.’

‘And?’

Mike glanced around them and lowered his voice. ‘Lewis presented her with an engagement ring. A rock that could have given her carpal tunnel syndrome if she’d worn it for any length of time.’

‘A generous man.’

‘Mmm.’ Mike bit back a smile. ‘Unfortunately he was overheard by a secretary telling your predecessor that he had no intention of marrying Lisa. The engagement seemed to be the price he’d have to pay to get her into the sack, so he was happy to fork out and with a bit of luck he might even get the ring back later.’ Mike cleared his throat expressively. ‘Word got around, you know?’

‘I know.’ David smiled wryly. He looked at Mike curiously. ‘So Lisa knew what was going on, then? I take it she didn’t accept?’

‘Oh, she accepted it. She returned it a day or two later. Lewis was not impressed.’

David said nothing. He had a feeling there was more to the story. Sure enough, Mike laughed quietly but gleefully as he gave another quick glance over his shoulder.

‘Lisa had the ring valued. She put it in a clear plastic envelope with the formal valuation. She also put in an address of a local house of pleasure with a suggested list of services—all couched in the most tasteful euphemisms—that added up to the exact worth of the ring. Then she posted it in the internal mail system.’

David whistled silently. Half the hospital had probably seen it before it arrived at its destination. And the other half would have heard about it.

‘Photocopies of the list still surface occasionally,’ Mike added wonderingly. ‘It was a major form of entertainment for months, trying to guess what some of those services might actually be. Even Lewis came to see the funny side—or pretended he did. I suspect it bumped up his estimation of Lisa Kennedy no end but he had no show after that.’

‘I’ll bet.’ David shook his head. ‘No wonder she’s not too keen on surgeons.’

‘Don’t take it personally.’

‘Funny, that’s what she said.’

‘She goes out with Alan Bennett now.’

‘What?’ David was appalled. ‘He’s old enough to be her father.’

‘It’s a convenient arrangement. They accompany each other to medical functions. Lisa’s great company.’

‘So it would seem.’ David’s tone was ironic. ‘Is there anyone she doesn’t go out with?’

Mike laughed again. ‘Yeah—Lewis Tanner.’

‘Can’t wait to meet the guy.’

‘You don’t have to wait,’ Mike promised. He pushed the door open. ‘Let’s go and see if he’s putting in an appearance at this meeting for once.’

Lewis Tanner would be in his early forties, David guessed. He was charming, sure enough. His welcome for David and apologies for missing his visit the day before were quite sincere. David eyed dispassionately the tall, impeccably dressed figure, the smooth, glossy black hair, the blue eyes and the automatic smile. David had more than a passing interest in keeping up his own appearance but Lewis Tanner made him feel distinctly scruffy. Perhaps it was the silk handkerchief or the miniature carnation in his buttonhole. Or maybe it was the unnaturally high sheen on his black shoes. Instinctively, he disliked the man and he spent the first ten minutes of the meeting trying to fathom out why.

The meeting was a regular weekly occurrence. Cardiology staff presented their referrals for surgery and decisions were made on priorities and theatre lists. The cardiothoracic team had a similar meeting later in the week with the respiratory department. David was only half listening to Lisa as she went through the scoring system on the sixty-two-year old woman being referred.

‘Severe triple vessel coronary artery disease,’ Lisa stated. ‘Left main stem was normal but there is a seventy to eighty per cent stenosis on the left anterior descending. Dominant right coronary artery with an eighty per cent lesion in its mid-conduit portion and further fifty per cent lesion prior to the origin of the posterior descending artery.’

David watched Lewis Tanner who was watching Lisa. There was no hint of any personal animosity or long-held grudges. It was interesting to note that Lisa could hold a professional relationship with someone who had failed so stunningly to make it on a personal basis. There was hope for David yet. Lewis was nodding occasionally in agreement and his expression suggested that he was impressed at Lisa’s presentation. From the angle David was sitting at he could follow the line of Lewis’s gaze quite accurately, however.

Lisa had crossed her legs and David had to admit that the glimpse of thigh offered by the split skirt was arresting. When Lisa paused momentarily in her summary he glanced up and was startled to find her eyes fixed on him in a baleful glare. She looked away as soon as David caught her eye and continued her presentation, but he could have sworn her lip curled fractionally. It was only then that he realised what had caused her disgust. His tie felt suddenly over-tight. He adjusted the knot with a casual movement but his lips were pressed firmly together. Damn the woman! Now she assumed he had been sitting there thinking of nothing but her legs!

‘Class one angina with ongoing pain at rest,’ Lisa finished up. ‘The echo shows a well-preserved left ventricular function with an ejection fraction of eighty per cent. We recommend urgent revascularisation.’

‘Of course,’ Lewis murmured. ‘Let’s get her on the list for this week.’

That was it. David forgot about Lisa—her legs, her attitude problem and even her scary ability to publicly humiliate surgeons. He found himself nodding but his agreement had nothing to do with the patient. He realised why he didn’t like Lewis Tanner. The man was assuming a controlling influence in the group even though the heads of both departments were sitting nearby. He oozed confidence in his own opinion and reeked of assumed power.

David’s glance shifted to Alan Bennett. The older surgeon’s face was impassive as he nodded agreement but David could sense the undercurrent. He swore silently. What kind of interpersonal warfare had he stepped into? He resolved to keep silent until he got a better feel for what was going on.

He didn’t have long to wait. Mike Foster launched into a polite but clearly personal criticism of Lewis Tanner.

‘We don’t seem to have resolved the communication difficulties between departments, Lewis. The Monday morning elective angioplasty slot is required to have surgical back-up for any emergency. You were covering this slot yesterday.’

Lewis raised his hands, palms upward, the diamond on his signet ring catching the light. ‘I know, I must apologise again. It was—’

Mike interrupted him. ‘It was a potential disaster. We had our patient on the table, sedated and finally psyched up for what she viewed as a major procedure. We were unable to contact you to confirm your availability.’

‘That’s because I wasn’t available.’

‘Precisely. Owing to the lack of communication, the only indication we received was the message that your cellphone was switched off.’

‘I had an emergency at Greenpark. As you know.’ Lewis Tanner’s tone suggested that the explanation should not have needed repeating. David’s brow creased thoughtfully. Greenpark was a private hospital. He had declined his own offer of operating privileges there.

‘Our patient was highly stressed by the delay and eventual cancellation of her procedure. She went on to have an acute myocardial infarction and required emergency angioplasty yesterday afternoon. For which, fortunately, surgical back-up is not mandatory.’

Lewis’s shrug was barely noticeable. ‘She got her procedure done, then, didn’t she?’ He shot back a cuff to expose a discreet gleam of gold. ‘I’m running out of time here. Is that it for today? Looks like we’ve got a full case load for the week.’

‘No, that’s not it for today,’ Lisa snapped.

David rather enjoyed the look of irritation on Lewis Tanner’s face but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

‘I would like further discussion regarding the case of Desmond Knight. He was readmitted yesterday with intractable angina. In the last four weeks he has spent eighteen days in the coronary care unit. His need for surgery has become progressively more urgent.’

This time the shrug was pronounced. ‘I reviewed the man last week. He’s not a good risk. He’s hypertensive, hyperlipidaemic and overweight. Above all, he’s still smoking. As I told him, he has to be prepared to take some responsibility for the outcome of his surgery. I’m not prepared to operate until I have concrete evidence that he’s given up smoking and is making an attempt to lose weight.’

‘His level of angina precludes any form of exercise.’ Lisa was clearly angry. ‘He had cut down to one cigarette a day. The stress of receiving your letter suggesting that surgery would not be available was enough to push him back into it. He’s forty-three years old with four children to support. He hasn’t been able to work for six months. I’m quite confident that a chance to live a normal life will be more than enough incentive for him to make the appropriate lifestyle changes post-surgery.’

‘It hasn’t been enough of an incentive so far.’

David’s resolve to stay silent evaporated. ‘Is this a departmental policy?’ he enquired.

‘No, it’s not.’ Alan Bennett broke the tense silence. ‘Lewis’s principles are well known but not necessarily shared to the same degree. Desmond Knight was referred initially to Lewis but I think a change of consultant at this point might be advisable.’

‘I’ve got a theatre slot tomorrow morning,’ David announced. ‘Has that been filled?’

‘No.’ Alan Bennett smiled. ‘We planned to ease you in gradually.’

‘I’m more than happy to start operating immediately,’ David offered. He smiled at Lewis Tanner. ‘As long as you don’t object to me poaching one of your patients?’

‘Not at all, old chap.’ Lewis smiled back. ‘Are you sure you want to? Operating on no-hopers like Mr Knight will play merry hell with your statistics.’

‘I’ll take the risk.’ David felt as if his smile was glued on. The eye contact with his colleague was challenging. He definitely did not like this man. No wonder Lisa Kennedy was prepared to loathe cardiac surgeons on sight—particularly when they made it obvious they found her attractive. The thought made him shift his glance. The expression on both Lisa’s and Mike’s faces was enough reward for any risk he might be taking, politically or otherwise. If there was a line drawn in the sand here it seemed that David had unintentionally chosen which side to stand on. He was surprised at how good it felt.

‘Did you hear the one about the cardiac surgeon who told his patient that he had some good news and some bad news?’

‘Probably.’ David grinned. ‘I reckon I’ve heard them all by now.’ Desmond Knight was a bit of a character and they had established a quick rapport during the introductory interview David had just concluded. ‘Is the good news that you have twenty-four hours to live and the bad news that I should have told you yesterday?’

‘No.’ Desmond Knight chuckled. ‘The bad news is that he’s only got a week to live.’

‘And the good news?’

‘Well, the surgeon points to a nurse who’s really…’

‘Stunningly gorgeous?’

Desmond nodded enthusiastically. ‘And he said, ‘‘You see that great-looking nurse over there?’’ The patient looks and then he nods eagerly and looks back at the surgeon kind of hopefully and the surgeon says, ‘‘Well, the good news it that I’m taking her out on Saturday night.’’’

David laughed with genuine amusement. He even looked in the direction Desmond had been pointing, but there was no nurse, stunningly gorgeous or otherwise. There was, however, an impressive expanse of pink candlewick—a back view of Mrs Judd, her walking frame parked in the doorway as she stopped to catch her breath. David caught Desmond Knight’s eye.

‘Rather you than me,’ Desmond murmured.

The pink tidal wave receded, replaced almost instantly by the slim figure of Lisa. The contrast was astonishing and Desmond’s face brightened considerably.

‘Hi, Doc.’

‘Hi, Des. I see you’ve met our new surgeon.’

‘He tells me I’ll never play the violin again.’

‘You couldn’t play it before.’ Lisa’s smile was only for her patient but David could sense its warmth and felt oddly excluded.

‘I’ve just been explaining the surgery to Desmond here. We’re scheduled for 8 a.m. tomorrow.’

Lisa nodded. ‘I wondered if you had the time now to review everything. I’ve got all the notes and I’ve set up the cardiac catheter film in the viewing room if you want to see it.’

‘Of course. I was about to call you.’ David turned back to Desmond. ‘Try and have a good rest and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I’d better check out the home movie you had done in the cath lab. I wouldn’t want to miss a bit of plumbing that needs attention.’

‘Make sure you do the bolts up nice and tight. That’s what bothers me.’

David could see the fear beneath the levity. He reached out and gripped Desmond’s hand briefly. ‘No worries, mate. I’ll get you running on full bore and leakproof.’

The faint pink flush he could see on the back of Lisa’s neck indicated that she had not appreciated the interchange as much as Desmond Knight, but David hadn’t been able to resist rubbing her nose in it just a little. He would never admit to the extent that her attack had nettled him yesterday, but between that and the paroxysms of mirth from the neighbouring bedroom last night David had been sorely tempted to pack his bags and return to a more congenial hemisphere.

‘What time did Desmond come in yesterday?’

Lisa was flicking a series of switches, dimming the lights in the angiography viewing room. ‘About two o’clock.’ She moved swiftly towards the projector. ‘Why?’

‘Just curious.’ David took a seat, leaning back and resting his chin on one hand. The admission must have been just before he’d turned up in her office with her remaining belongings and that stupid rose. So that was what she’d been taking out on him—her frustration at being unable to provide the treatment her patient needed so desperately. Understandable. Commendable, even. But it didn’t excuse her earlier rudeness or that cutting remark about library books. Lewis Tanner may well have soured her opinion of newcomers but it was still inexcusable to act on it so blatantly.

‘You’ve got his hypertension under good control,’ he commented, picking up the case notes. ‘And coronary perfusion’s not looking too bad.’

‘Surprisingly,’ Lisa agreed. She started the projector. ‘We got these shots this morning.’

They both watched the screen—the shadowy background of the heart pumping, the outline of the main arteries and their filigree of branches darkening clearly as each dose of dye was injected.

David grunted. ‘Not pretty.’

‘No,’ Lisa agreed quietly. ‘It’s not.’

They went through the film twice. David held the catheterisation report in his hand the second time, checking the diagram that documented which arteries were damaged and to what extent. ‘We’re looking at a quadruple graft here,’ he murmured. ‘Should keep me out of mischief for the morning.’

‘Would you mind if I stood in for a while? If I get the chance, that is.’

‘Not at all.’ David deliberately gave his tone a professional detachment. Scrutiny was only to be expected as a newcomer, and David had never suffered from nerves due to an audience. This time yesterday his pulse rate would have jumped at the thought of being observed by Lisa but he was delighted to find himself unmoved today. Sure, the woman was physically attractive but his initial reaction had been ridiculous. She was a colleague. One who had advertised her ability to be antagonistic and would therefore need to be treated cautiously. The idea that she might be anything other than a colleague had fortunately vanished completely. He was no longer remotely interested despite Mike Foster’s advocacy of her virtues and suitability. That teenage-like surge of testosterone had been nothing more than part of the excitement of starting a new job and the pleasure of renewing old friendships. The novelty had worn off amazingly fast.

The theatre team was fantastic. David was delighted to find that the anaesthetist was Gerry Greene, a contemporary and one of the old party crowd. Now married with three children, he was still keen to arrange a get-together. The nursing staff were welcoming and the selection of CDs for some relaxing background music was surprisingly good. David’s choice of Dan Fogelberg was met with general approval. By the time Alan Bennett slipped in to observe, David had opened the chest, separated the sternum, retracted the ribcage and was carefully opening the membranous sac of the pericardium which enclosed Desmond Knight’s heart. His registrar was doing a very competent job of harvesting the leg veins required for the grafts.

‘I’m about to cannulate for bypass with aortic arterial and venous RAIVC lines,’ David informed Alan.

The transfer to bypass on the heart-lung machine was smooth, and by the time David applied the cross-clamp and stopped the heart by injecting the cardioplegic solution he was thoroughly enjoying himself. David loved surgery. Politics were non-existent. The goal was defined, everybody was working on the same side and he had the skills to lead them and deal with any complications. It was a dramatic occupation. David had often thought ‘theatre’ was a very appropriate name for the room. It was also often highly stressful, especially when unforseen difficulties presented themselves, but David thrived on the pressure.

‘7.0 Prolene, thanks.’ David handled the floppy section of empty vein gently as he sutured one end of it carefully into place. ‘OK. Let’s check the run-off.’ The adjustment of the clamp allowed blood volume to move through the graft and David nodded with satisfaction, before turning his attention to attaching the other end of the graft to the wall of the aorta.

He stood back and stretched some time later but the break in the long procedure was brief. ‘Let’s move on to the anterior descending, folks. We’re doing well.’

Lisa did not appear in Theatre until the last graft was being attached to the aorta. It would have been easy to miss her arrival, due to the number and activity of the theatre staff, but something made David glance up. The brown eyes were magnified by being the only exposed part of her face. Even by themselves they were remarkably expressive. David dismissed the faint jolt the recognition gave him but acknowledged Lisa’s presence with a slight nod.

‘Let’s get this cross-clamp off and check out the plumbing,’ he suggested, his smile hidden by his mask. David knew quite well that he’d done an excellent job. Even Lisa should be impressed. Alan and the theatre staff certainly were. Desmond Knight was weaned from bypass uneventfully and his heart restarted spontaneously.

The atmosphere in Theatre relaxed progressively as David wired the sternum back together and closed the chest. Gerry Greene’s plans for a dinner party had been finalised and other staff members were talking excitedly about an upcoming cardiovascular conference in the South Island tourist mecca of Queenstown.

‘Will you be going, David?’

‘I doubt I’ll be eligible for conference leave for a while.’

Alan laughed. ‘I forgot to tell you—we’ve got you down as one of the speakers. I don’t think leave will be a problem and it’s only for a weekend.’

David grinned. Speaking at a national conference on short notice shouldn’t be any problem and could only speed up his acceptance. It sounded great. Unconsciously, he found his gaze searching for the cardiology registrar, wondering whether she would be attending the conference. But Lisa had vanished and David merely shrugged mentally. It was of no great importance after all.

‘No! You musn’t do that, Donald.’

Both David and Jane Maddon turned at the sound of the alarmed protest. The familiar pink candlewick, wedged between the bars of the walking frame, was quivering ominously.

David’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t tell me that’s Mr Judd.’ He eyed the pencil-thin, late-middle-aged man with some awe.

‘Sure is,’ Jane whispered. ‘He absolutely adores her. He comes in every day to look after her and do her washing.’

‘So I see.’ David was just as awed by the size of the pair of knickers Mrs Judd was pulling from her husband’s hands. Her voice had quietened due to the exertion of her protest but was still quite audible.

‘If you put them in the drier they’ll shrink, and then what’ll I do, Donald?’

David grimaced at Jane. The alternatives didn’t bear thinking about.

Jane smiled. ‘We have a laundry where patients and relatives can take care of their nightwear and smalls. Donald Judd uses it more than anyone.’

‘Smalls?’

Jane glanced at the item of clothing Mrs Judd had now draped over the bar of her walking frame. She elbowed David as she cleared her throat. ‘What can we do for you, Mr James? Are you on the hunt for new patients? I hear Mr Knight is doing very well.’

‘He is, indeed. I like the set-up in the post-surgery intensive care unit. Very impressive.’

Jane was watching Donald Judd hovering anxiously near his wife as she rolled slowly back to her room. ‘Mrs Judd is in need of some attention to her coronary arteries, I believe.’ She eyed David with amusement. ‘We just need to get her diabetes under better control and see if we can get on top of the asthma. Lisa has her scheduled for a cardiac catheter next week.’

David was backing off. ‘I really only came to find Mike. Is he around at the moment?’

Jane grinned. ‘I guess Mrs Judd will have to wait, then. Mike was helping Lisa with an admission a while back. Try the staffroom.’

Half expecting to find Lisa with her consultant, David was relieved to find Mike sitting alone. The feeling changed to one of concern as he saw how morosely Mike was hunched over half a cup of coffee.

‘What’s up?’

‘Upsetting admission.’ Mike shook his head sadly. ‘Fourteen-year-old boy with cardiomyopathy, Stephen Taylor. He’s been on the waiting list for a cardiac transplant for over six months. Went up to Auckland a couple of months ago but it all fell through. He’s not looking good right now.’ Mike sighed heavily. ‘Stephen’s a great favourite around here. He’s got a brilliant attitude to life. He’s particularly attached to Lisa Kennedy. She’ll probably be here all night, watching him like a hawk.’

‘Are you planning to hang around as well?’

‘No.’ Mike stood up and emptied his cold coffee down the sink. ‘Lisa’s more than capable of handling things and knows when to call me if she isn’t.’

‘Are you otherwise free?’

‘Of course. Permanent state of affairs these days.’

‘Good.’ David was determined to cheer his friend up. ‘Gerry Greene’s invited us both for dinner. Probably wants to rehash unsavoury memories. Could be just what you need.’

‘Could be.’ Mike was looking more cheerful already. ‘Sounds great. Gerry’s over the other side of town. Do you want me to give you a lift?’

‘No, thanks anyway. I’ve bought a car and this will give me the opportunity to give it a test run. I’ll meet you there at seven.’

The car was a heap but it had been all David could afford without putting himself into serious hock. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea, buying his parents that town house as a present to celebrate his father’s retirement. Property in central Auckland didn’t come cheap. Hell, it didn’t even come reasonable. Then he grinned as the engine on the aging Toyota finally caught and held. Of course it had been worth it. His parents had struggled financially all their lives and it had been their sacrifice that got him through medical school. The look on their faces when he’d presented them with the keys!

He had flown home for the occasion, having had his younger sister, Melanie, and a real-estate agent make all the arrangements. The project had had the useful spin-off of keeping Melanie out of trouble for longer than usual. His parents had been pleased enough about that—they couldn’t believe it when the reason for their daughter’s preoccupation had been revealed. The Jameses had only ever lived in rented houses and retirement had simply been yet another financial challenge. Now they could look forward to having the time of their lives. They were both fit and healthy.

Maybe when he got back on his feet again he’d shout them a trip through Europe. His own two-month jaunt, before returning to New Zealand, had been a wonderful experience but had also been responsible for clearing the last of his savings.

David joined the still heavy stream of traffic circling Hagley Park. At the first set of traffic lights the engine on his car died suddenly. David swore softly but got it started again just as the car behind gave him a blast on its horn. He began to feel concerned about his purchase but it seemed to be running fine until he had to slow for the roundabout at the next corner. The engine cut out without so much as a cough.

David tried to restart repeatedly as the traffic banked up around him. Cars tried to edge into the other lane to pass the obstacle he had created but other motorists were having none of it. Angry shouts and blaring horns contributed to the build-up of road rage. David opened his door, having released his handbrake. He ignored the insults thrown from a car of youths beside him and began to push, one hand on the steering-wheel, the other on the roof above the door opening. Nobody offered to help.

Once rolling, the car gathered speed and David fought to control the steering while he aimed for the side of the road. A front wheel mounted the kerb and David dived for the handbrake as he saw the cyclist on the footpath. Now he was stationary but only the front half of the car was off the road. He was still causing a traffic hazard. With an apologetic grin at the alarmed cyclist David released the catch and opened the bonnet. Surely someone would be able to offer a hand with his distress so clearly advertised.

Sure enough, a car pulled up, neatly mounting the kerb to park on the footpath, well out of the way of the traffic. A shiny, low-slung, convertible MGB. Bright red. A car buff! Just what the doctor ordered.

The driver climbed out. High-heeled shoes, long, slim legs, a neatly fitting skirt with a slit up the side.

‘No…’ David groaned. ‘It couldn’t be!’

It was. Lisa Kennedy had swapped her white coat for a tailored jacket in the same fabric as her skirt. She looked as though she would have a briefcase and several cellphones on her passenger seat.

‘Having problems?’

‘You haven’t got a cellphone on you, have you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Could you ring someone for me? A breakdown service?’

‘Let’s have a quick look first. What happened?’

David was feeling very tense. His popularity with the general public of Christchurch was rapidly plummeting. He’d heard some pretty colourful abuse in the last ten minutes and the traffic wasn’t showing any signs of abating.

‘The car stopped,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I’d think it was fairly obvious.’ He glared at the elegant figure in front of him. ‘I also think it would be a good idea to clear the obstruction I’m causing.’ He shut his eyes briefly. ‘Now.’

‘Sure.’ Lisa was looking amused. ‘But it would probably take half an hour for a tow truck to get here. Do you really want to wait and listen to that?’

‘Get a horse!’ someone yelled. Lisa’s mouth twitched but she controlled her expression admirably.

David gritted his teeth. ‘I don’t know anything about cars.’

‘Hop in,’ Lisa ordered. ‘Turn the key and push gently on the accelerator.’

David didn’t move. ‘I do know how to start a car,’ he said coldly. ‘If that had worked, I wouldn’t be standing here now. And, yes, it does have some petrol in it.’

Lisa silently stepped around him and got into his car. The engine started first try and David swore profusely under his breath. He already felt embarrassed enough by his situation. Now he was going to look a complete idiot. The engine ran for thirty seconds and then died. Lisa turned it over but it failed to start. David was perversely relieved.

Lisa moved swiftly. Opening the tiny boot of her car, she pulled out a toolbox. Removing a torch, she marched back towards him. ‘Get in, turn it on and press suddenly on the accelerator,’ she commanded. Her attention was on his engine as she shone the torch into its depths.

With a frustrated grunt David did as he was told. At least he was partially hidden, sitting in his car. The insults had become appreciative whistles and hoots as Lisa leaned over the bonnet. David slumped a little further down in his seat.

‘Looks like it could be a problem with your fuel line.’ Lisa’s voice floated through the window. ‘Stay there.’ She collected some items from her toolbox, including a glass jar.

‘Turn the key—briefly,’ she called a minute later. David complied. ‘And again. OK, stop!’

David stuck his head out of the window. He watched as Lisa reconnected some tubing and then emptied the jar of petrol into the gutter.

‘Blocked fuel line, I think. Try her again.’

The engine caught, held, but then died. ‘For God’s sake,’ David muttered. ‘I did ask you to call a tow truck.’

‘This will only take a minute,’ Lisa snapped. ‘I’m going to check the spark plugs.’

David sat, drumming his fingers on the steering-wheel. The minute passed. And another. He jumped out. ‘I thought you were staying in the hospital overnight.’ He refused to be impressed by the confident manner with which she selected the socket and wrenches.

‘I am. I’m just going home to grab a change of clothes. Stevie’s asleep.’ Lisa shook her head. ‘Look at that. Black! It hasn’t even been firing. And this one’s oily, see?’ She held the spark plug under his nose. ‘Probably a shot PCV valve. When did you have this car in for a service last?’

‘I only bought it yesterday.’

Lisa’s look suggested that there was one born every day. She replaced the spark plugs and David watched as she continued working rapidly. ‘You need new spark plugs, your wiring’s just about had it and the battery’s corroded to hell. Did you even look under this bonnet when you bought this car?’

David grinned. The funny side of the situation finally struck him. A feminist plot to destroy a manhood. A role reversal to die for. ‘How come you know so much about engines?’ he countered.

‘I like old cars.’ Lisa nodded at the gleaming machine parked nearby, wiping her hands on a rag. ‘I could never have afforded to keep one on the road if I hadn’t learned to look after it myself. I’ve had this since I was a student.’ She looked back at David’s car. ‘How much did you pay for this?’

‘Two thousand dollars.’

‘Take it back,’ she suggested. ‘It’s worth about five hundred.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Have another try.’

The engine started instantly and chugged happily. Lisa listened for a minute. ‘Your timing’s way off.’ She shrugged. ‘Sounds like it might get you home, though.’ She slammed the bonnet shut. ‘I’ll follow you for a block or two, just in case.’

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