‘There you are.’

She didn’t move, didn’t turn around. He wasn’t going to see her cry.

‘Lila.’ His hand was on her shoulder, his touch so, so familiar that she felt an overwhelming urge to put her hand over his, to draw him nearer.

She turned to face him then. The music seemed to be speaking to her, reminding her of how good it had been. She knew then that she was lost.

Melting into his arms, she swayed slowly to the music. The warmth of his body, the silent strength in his embrace, the male scent of him all played their part in peeling the years away.

‘I never stopped missing you,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been on my mind every day.’

‘I’ve missed you too,’ Lila admitted.

And how she had missed him. Missed the way he’d held her, the way he had loved her. The undisguised admiration in his eyes when he had looked at her, the way he had made her laugh, made her feel. Had she misjudged him so badly? Had she said goodbye to the best thing in her life over a stupid misunderstanding?

Carol Marinelli did her nursing training in England and then worked for a number of years in Casualty. A holiday romance while backpacking led to her marriage and emigration to Australia. Eight years and three children later the romance continues…Today she considers both England and Australia her home. The sudden death of her father prompted a reappraisal of her life’s goals and inspired her to tackle romance-writing seriously.

Recent titles by the same author:

DR CARLISLE’S CHILD

THE PREGNANT INTERN

THE ITALIAN’S TOUCH

Accidental Reunion

Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

‘I KNOW this is terrible news, Lila.’ Dr Mason gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘But at least now you know the reason for your mother’s mood swings and confusion.’

‘But Alzheimer’s!’ Lila closed her eyes, battling with tears. She had been doing a lot of reading on the subject since Alzheimer’s had been gently suggested as a possible diagnosis, and none of the books, none of the statistics, had given her even a shred of comfort. ‘How long—how long until…?’

‘Alzheimer’s is a progressive disorder, but, as the neurologist would have explained to you when he first referred your mother for tests, the progression of the disease varies in each individual. It could be months, it could be years. However…’ The pause as Dr Mason searched for the right words seemed interminable, yet Lila found herself wishing he would stop right there. Stop before he took away her last ray of hope. ‘In your mother’s case the progress has been rather rapid. Elizabeth is already at the stage where she requires some degree of supervision, and I’m sorry to say that isn’t going to improve. Now, I know that what with your job and everything—’

‘I’ll sort something out,’ Lila interrupted quickly.

‘Lila, you’re a flight attendant,’ Dr Mason pointed out. ‘Your mother needs round-the-clock supervision; she really can’t be left alone.’

‘Well, I’ll give up the long-haul flights and switch to domestic. My aunt will help out while I’m working. She said she would, if the news was bad.’

‘Short term, maybe. Look, Lila, I don’t know your aunt, and I’m sure her intentions are good, but we’re talking months—years, even—of care for your mother. At some point you’re going to have to think about a home.’

‘No!’ The single word spilled from her lips forcefully. ‘Look, I know you’re a doctor, and I know you think you know how it will end up, but this is my mother we’re talking about, and she’s not going into a home. I’m going to look after her.’

Dr Mason didn’t push; he was more of a family friend than a GP. He had delivered Lila into the world twenty-three years ago. He had seen her through inoculations and ear infections, and later acne and all the usual teenage angst. He could remember her shyly coming into his office to discuss contraception, her face glowing as she spoke about her beloved Declan. He had watched her grow from a cheeky, chubby baby with a mass of blonde curls into a groomed, jet-setting woman. Seeing her sitting there now, with a pained, dignified look on her face as she struggled to come to terms with the terrible news, he felt her pain too.

Still cheeky, though, he thought affectionately as he fiddled with his fountain pen. Still impulsive, and still with a heart of gold. Dr Mason loved his job most of the time, but on days like this…

‘Look, you don’t have to make any decision today; this is a long haul we’re talking about here. I just feel you’d be better prepared if you at least start to address some of the issues that are likely to present themselves. Looking after your mum at home is going to be a big deal. We’re talking full-time care, lifting, feeding and washing. Unless you can afford a carer, unless you’ve got a lot of support, you’re simply not going to be able to do it.’

‘I’ll work something out.’

Dr Mason watched Lila gather her bag. ‘I’ve got together some literature for you to read once you get your breath back,’ he said gently. ‘There’re also the numbers of some support groups that you might like to contact.’

‘I’ll see.’ Standing, Lila shook Dr Mason’s hand. ‘Thank you for being so honest; I know this can’t have been easy.’

‘I’ll call round in a couple of days.’ Opening the consulting-room door, he saw the flash of tears in her eyes as she brushed past him. ‘I am sorry, Lila. I just wish it could have been better news.’

* * *

Declan tried to be sympathetic when she told him, but his fifth year medical student brain simply wasn’t up to the questions Lila kept hurling at him.

‘Lila, you’re jumping the gun,’ he responded when Lila threatened to resign from the airline. ‘The doctor said, it could be years—you don’t have to throw in your job.’

‘Someone has to look after her.’

‘Of course, but you need to work. Surely your aunt—’

‘I can’t expect Shirley to just give up her life and look after her sister.’

He ran an exasperated hand through his long dark curls, screwing his grey eyes closed for a second as he tried to take in the enormity of the news Lila had just divulged. He knew he should stay calm, be the strong one, support her decisions. But he couldn’t just let her destroy her life, and the Lila he knew and loved was more than capable of doing just that!

Her impulsive nature was one of the things he loved about her most. But, seeing her standing there in his living room, about to make all the wrong decisions, he had to step in—had to stop Lila in her tracks and make her see sense.

‘You haven’t even spoken to her about it,’ he reasoned. ‘Once the news has sunk in then we can all sit down and work something out. If you won’t listen to me, then listen to what Dr Mason said: ‘‘You don’t have to make any decisions today.’’ He’s right. When you go home your mum’s going to be there, just as she was this morning; the only difference is that now you know what’s wrong. Don’t go handing in your notice or doing anything rash.’

But his words fell on deaf ears.

‘What if I studied nursing? I’d be living at home then, and by the time Mum needs full-time care I’d at least know what I was doing.’ She was clutching at straws now, throwing up ideas, trying anything to gain control of this awful situation.

‘You? Nurse? Oh, come on, Lila. All the nurses I’ve come across are organised, dedicated—they don’t just decide on a Tuesday morning that nursing is the job for them. They have a vocation, a passion for it. You’re the scattiest person I know—not that I love you any less for it—and the only thing you’re dedicated to is international shopping. For heaven’s sake, darling, you don’t even like the sight of blood!’ Maybe it was helplessness, maybe it was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but when Declan committed the cardinal sin of laughing at the idea Lila turned promptly on her heel.

‘Lila, don’t walk off.’ Declan followed her out to the hall. ‘Don’t leave while you’re upset. Come on, we need to talk about this—we need to work something out.’

‘That,’ retorted Lila, her words filled with venom, her eyes blazing, ‘was what I was trying to do. You get back to your books, Declan, and leave me to get on with my life.’

Slamming the door on the town house Declan shared with his fellow students, Lila marched off, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t run after her, given the fact he was dressed only in boxer shorts.

‘Lila!’

Flemington Road was amongst the busiest in Melbourne. Lila wasn’t the only one to look shocked as he raced along the pavement after her.

‘Come back inside—please,’ he begged, oblivious of the curious stares of onlookers.

A tram was approaching and Lila flagged it down, scrabbling in her bag for her travel card.

‘Lila!’ His voice was urgent now.

‘Goodbye, Declan.’

As the tram moved off she willed herself not to turn around but sat there rigid, her eyes trained on the driver in front. The old lady sitting next to her had no such reserve, though. Craning her neck, she gave Lila an unwelcome update as the tram turned right at the roundabout.

‘He’s still there, God love him, just standing there in his undies. You’ve given him a scare, love, why don’t you get off now and go back to him?’

What was it with Australians? Why did they have to be so damned friendly? Why couldn’t she live in London, where people sat on the underground and pretended not to notice someone fainting?

‘There’s no point,’ Lila said flatly, tears welling in her eyes as the full enormity of the situation hit her. There really was no point at all. Sure, if she got off now they’d make up—he’d take her in his arms and tell her it would all be all right, that he loved her and would always be there for her. But how could he make a promise like that when there was so much uncertainty ahead? The Lila Bailey he loved was independent, with a job to die for and a wardrobe to match. How would he feel when she was stuck at home, nursing her mother, who, with even the best will in the world, was only going to get worse?

As she walked in the front door she braced herself, unsure of what she would find today. The bathroom flooded? A burning pot on the stove, perhaps? Instead, her mother was dozing peacefully in the armchair, her eyes flicking open as Lila made her way across the room.

‘Hello, darling, how was the flight?’

‘I haven’t been at work, Mum. I just went to see Declan.’

Elizabeth screwed up her nose. ‘Frightful young man. He can’t be trusted, you know. He’s exactly like your father. And we all know how that turned out.’

Standing, she smiled warmly at her daughter. ‘You have a seat, dear, and put your feet up. I’ll see about getting you a nice cup of tea and perhaps some cake.’

Slipping into the chair, Lila felt herself start to relax. Maybe Declan was right and she was jumping the gun. Mum was fine. It could be years down the track…

‘How was Singapore?’ Elizabeth asked, returning moments later with a cup of hot sugared water. ‘You must be exhausted after such a long flight.’

It was on that day Lila rang to make enquiries about applying to study for a Bachelor of Nursing.

It was on that day she finished with Declan.

CHAPTER ONE

LILA burst into the observation ward, her blonde hair flying, her bag falling off her shoulder.

‘Calm down, they haven’t started yet.’ Sue Finch patted the chair beside her. ‘I saved you a seat.’

‘Don’t you hate that?’ Lila rolled her eyes. ‘They tell us to be here at eight—an hour before our shift starts—and then they can’t even get it started on time.’

‘Just as well or you’d have been late—again.’ Sue grinned. ‘Luckily the Horse is stuck round in Resus, so your lack of punctuality will go unnoticed—this time,’ she added pointedly.

The Horse was the name Hester Randall, the nurse unit manager, was rather unaffectionately known by, due to the fact that the only time she showed any glimpse of being human was when she spoke about one of her beloved horses. Lila had started the nickname after a particularly bad dressing-down from her senior and it had soon caught on. ‘What kept you, anyway?’

‘I started watching the gymnastics on television, and before I knew it it was after seven.’

‘Since when have you been interested in gymnastics?’ Sue asked.

‘Since a couple of hours ago. I don’t know what all the fuss is about—it doesn’t look that difficult. I’m sure if I practised I could do it.’ She laughed at Sue’s incredulous look. ‘I’m serious. They were just dancing around waving a couple of ribbons.’

‘They practise for years—hours every day,’ Lucy Heath, another of the night nurses, pointed out.

‘Exactly my point.’ Flicking back the curtains pulled around the empty ward and seeing the coast was clear, Lila picked up a couple of finger bandages and unravelled them. ‘Watch and learn,’ she said to her delighted audience, and, executing a perfect pirouette, she twirled the ribbons as she danced around the room, egged on by the laughter coming from her colleagues. Too wrapped up in her impromptu routine, she didn’t notice the laughter had suddenly changed to a fit of embarrassed coughing.

‘When you’ve finished wasting the hospital supplies, Sister Bailey, perhaps we can get on with the evening’s lecture?’

Turning, Lila stopped in her tracks, her face turning pale as Hester Randall marched in, accompanied by a couple of medical personnel. Lila took her seat next to Sue, concentrating on rolling the bandages—anything rather than look up. It wasn’t Hester’s untimely appearance that had upset her; Lila was far too used to that by now. The trembling in her hands, the rapid rise in her heart rate, were exclusively due to the, oh, so familiar grin that had greeted Lila’s eyes as she’d spun around.

‘Before we start I’d like to take a moment to introduce two new faces that are soon going to become very familiar to us all. Yvonne Selles is the hospital’s new geriatric registrar, and will be delivering tonight’s talk. Yvonne has moved to Melbourne all the way from Scotland, so I trust you will do your utmost to make her feel welcome. The other new face belongs to Dr Declan Haversham, our new emergency registrar. Theoretically he shouldn’t be starting for another month, but as you know we are short of a night doctor for the next few weeks, and Declan has agreed to step in.’

Lila had known this day would come—that one day their paths would cross again. But the eight years that had elapsed since their last meeting, or rather parting, had almost convinced her that she was worrying unnecessarily. Almost convinced her that maybe she could get through the rest of her life without coming face to face with Declan.

It was no big deal, Lila tried to convince herself as she finished rolling the bandages. It was just an ex-boyfriend—hardly big league stuff; she could handle this!

But it was a big deal, she finally acknowledged. Eight years might have passed, but not a day or night had gone by when Declan hadn’t been in her thoughts. His tousled black hair, the grey eyes that crinkled around the edges when he laughed, or softened when he gazed into hers…Correction, Lila reminded herself, the same eyes that had mocked her when she had tentatively told him her plans, and the same cheeky grin that had turned into a scornful laugh.

Peeking up from under her fringe, she saw that he was staring directly at her. Feigning uninterest, Lila flicked her gaze away, but not before she saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips. That small glimpse was enough to tell her the years had treated him well. His hair was shorter, neater now, and he looked even taller, if that was possible. And the suit under his white coat had obviously set him back a bit. His eyes still crinkled, though, she mused, desperately trying to focus on Yvonne Selles’s lecture, and nothing could diminish the impact of those eyes on hers…

‘My intention is to highlight to the staff here the special needs of elderly patients in the accident and emergency department.’ Yvonne’s lilting Scottish accent forced the staff to listen more carefully. ‘Would any of you like to suggest what specific problems they might face during their time here?’

‘Missing out on their regular medication?’ Sue suggested.

‘Excellent. Their GP will have spent a lot of time educating them, insisting that they take their medication at a certain time, stressing the importance of not missing a dose. The elderly patients might suffer with dementia, might be confused, but they know that at six p.m. they have to take their blue tablet—or their insulin, perhaps. Then they come into Emergency and, lo and behold, a nurse tells them that as it isn’t prescribed they can’t have it, and, anyway, missing out on one dose isn’t going to cause a problem. It can take weeks to undo that sort of damage when in truth it could be so easily prevented. Can anyone suggest how?’

‘By getting them seen more quickly, perhaps,’ Lila suggested. ‘Even if not for a full assessment, at least a doctor could write up an interim order for their regular meds, enabling the staff to give them if required.’

She could feel Declan’s eyes on her and couldn’t help a small blush as she spoke. It felt surreal, discussing medical issues with him in the room.

‘Well done. Any other problem that comes to mind?’

Yvonne was looking directly at her now, and Lila had no choice but to make a suggestion. ‘Pressure areas?’

‘Another good point. Unlike the wards, the emergency department doesn’t have a routine as such. Emergency staff are busy dealing with the immediate and in some cases life-threatening problem that has caused the patient to present in the first place. So often elderly people lie on hard trolleys without the very basics of nursing care being addressed. By the time they get to the wards damage has been inflicted upon their frail skin. So what can be done?’

It was Lucy who responded this time. ‘Implement a system of assessing an elderly patient when they come in—if they need pressure area care then make sure it’s carried out regularly.’

‘It wouldn’t work,’ Lila said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe for a couple of weeks, but sooner or later everyone would slip back into the old ways. We could start doing four-hourly pressure area rounds, like on the wards. Anybody needing pressure area care would be treated then.’

‘A fantastic idea. What do you think, Hester?’

Yvonne turned and addressed the unit manager, who gave a thin smile. ‘Worth some thought, I’m sure,’ Hester agreed, though her tone could hardly be described as enthusiastic.

The meeting continued in the same vein. They bounced ideas off each other, trying to come up with solutions to the endless problems nursing threw up, but finally at ten to nine they were done, leaving just enough time to grab a quick coffee before the night shift started.

‘Thanks a bunch,’ Sue said good-naturedly as they picked up their bags. ‘If we don’t have enough work already, now the Horse will have us doing pressure area rounds. I came down to Emergency to escape all that!’

‘Sister Bailey, if I could have a quick word in my office?’ Hester’s voice was hardly friendly, and, forgoing any chance of a coffee, Lila turned and followed her boss down the corridor, closing the door behind her as Hester took a seat at her desk.

Anticipating a ticking off for her gymnastic display, Lila tried to keep her face impassive. Her lateness she could accept being told off for—after all, none of the staff knew the true extent of her mother’s illness. If they had she was sure they would have happily made allowances. However, Lila consistently refused to apologise for having a bit of fun now and then. Heaven knew, the staff worked hard enough in this department—between them they saw enough terrible sights to send even the most stable person searching their soul. Letting off a bit of steam at work did no harm, in Lila’s eyes; in fact, she felt it did a lot of good. It was a point she and Hester would never agree on, and one of the many reasons Lila preferred night duty. Away from the politics of days, away from the bureaucracy and the demands of admin, staff were able to get on with what they were paid to do—nurse.

But for now, at least, the waste of two hospital bandages wasn’t what Hester had on her mind.

‘I’ve been going through the applications for the night associate charge nurse position, and I see you’re not amongst them.’

As she sat down on the chair Lila’s impassive expression slipped for a moment. ‘I thought it would be a waste of time,’ she admitted honestly, after a moment’s silence.

‘Why? Don’t you want the job?’ Hester’s voice was crisp, her stare direct, but, undaunted, Lila looked her directly in the eye.

‘On the contrary, I’d love the position. However, I know that we don’t always see eye to eye on my methods of nursing—’

‘Your nursing methods don’t worry me,’ Hester interrupted. ‘I don’t doubt for a moment that you’re an excellent nurse. If I had any concerns in that area you’d have been gone long ago. What concerns me is your disregard for detail, your casual attitude to the rules, your lateness.’

Which was a backhanded compliment if ever Lila had heard one. Biting back a smart reply, she kept her voice even. ‘Which is why I didn’t apply for the job.’

Hester didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she flicked through the pile of résumés on the desk in front of her. ‘All of these are from external applicants. While I don’t doubt that their credentials are excellent, and while I agree I don’t always see eye to eye with you, Lila, I do think you’re a good nurse. I’m also paid to have foresight, and I can’t see it going down too well with the rest of your colleagues if I employ an outsider for a job you’re effectively already doing.’

Hester had a point there. Since Jane Church had left, more often than not Lila had been in charge of the department, and the rest of the night staff had been pushing endlessly for Lila to apply for the position permanently.

‘Now, I’m certainly not going to hand you such a senior position on a plate, but I definitely would seriously consider you if you decided to go ahead and apply. Who knows? When it’s you handling the stock-ordering and budgets, maybe a measly couple of bandages might take on a greater importance.’

Lila managed a faintly sheepish grin as Hester continued. ‘The applications close tomorrow at five p.m. It’s up to you whether your name’s amongst them. I’d better let you get back to the unit.’

Making her way back to emergency, Lila shook her head in disbelief. Hester suggesting she apply for the position was the last thing she had been expecting. Correction, Lila thought as she rounded the corner and saw Declan standing by the whiteboard, studying the patient list. Declan Haversham strolling back into her life as, of all things, the newly appointed emergency registrar was the last thing. How on earth was she supposed to deal with this?

As she approached the huddle of nurses taking the handover, painfully aware of his eyes on her, Lila took a deep breath. It was going to be a long, long night.

Once the handover was completed, as the nurse in charge it was up to Lila to assign the nurses their various roles for the night. It was quite a complicated task. Assessing the patients who were in the department, along with nurses’ capabilities, was a constantly evolving juggling act.

‘Sue, you take the obs ward, if anyone gets admitted, otherwise stay down in section A with me. For now start shifting some of the patients up to the wards,’ Lila said, writing swiftly on the whiteboard as she did so. ‘Lucy and Amy, you stay in section A with me, and help Sue. We’ll all cover Resus together. Gemma, perhaps you could close section B now and bring the patient list up here. And, girls,’ she added, calling back the dispersing group, ‘remember your para-training.’

‘Will do, Lila.’ Sue grinned. ‘Hey, what did the Horse want?’

‘What do you think she wanted?’ Lila said lightly. She certainly wasn’t about to divulge the real reason for Hester’s little chat. It would be bad enough not getting the job, without every one knowing about it! ‘You do realise I cost the hospital four dollars tonight, teaching you Neanderthals the finer points of gymnastics.’

‘And a real treat it was, too.’ Lila pointedly didn’t look round as Declan came over.

‘I never knew you were such a talented gymnast.’ She could hear the familiar dry humour in his voice, but still she didn’t look. ‘But then what would I know? I never even realised you were a nurse.’

Sue gave them both a quizzical look. ‘I’ll get cubicle four up to the ward, then,’ she said, leaving them to it.

For the longest time they stood there, both pretending to study the whiteboard. It was Declan who finally broke the silence. ‘So you were serious about nursing after all?’

Lila gave a curt nod. ‘It looks that way.’

‘I guess you must have got over your weak stomach?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

He looked up at her wry chuckle. ‘But you work in Emergency!’ His voice was incredulous, but Lila was used to shock when she admitted her weakness. Her response was well rehearsed.

‘Name one person who loves every aspect of their job.’ When he didn’t immediately answer Lila jumped right in. ‘See, you can’t! Emergency isn’t just about blood and gore—that’s just one aspect of it…’

A smile was twitching on his lips, and those smoky dark eyes were crinkling in that endearingly familiar way.

‘What?’ Her voice was defensive, an instinctive reaction to his response. She still read his face so well, almost knew what he was thinking.

‘You’re still as passionate as ever.’ He cleared his throat, as if realising the faux pas he had just committed. ‘I mean…’ His voice trailed off.

Passionate. The word hung in the air between them, conjuring dangerous images of long ago.

Images best forgotten.

Finally he found his voice. ‘How on earth do you cope?’

She swallowed hard. ‘Red cordial helps.’ Her words were light and glib, a deliberate attempt to lighten the increasing tension.

‘Red cordial?’

‘Any blood I see, I just imagine it’s cordial.’

He was really smiling now. ‘And does it work?’

‘Mostly.’

‘And when it doesn’t?’

It was Lila’s turn to smile now. Rolling her eyes, she pulled a face. ‘I just hope for a soft landing.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘Absolutely. But don’t worry,’ she added quickly, ‘I always get heaps of warning, and I haven’t fallen on top of a patient yet—touch wood.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ There was a long pause as again they pretended to look at the whiteboard. ‘How’s your mum doing?’ His voice was gentle now, wary.

‘She’s fine. Well, not fine, exactly, but we’re managing.’

‘That’s good.’ The silence that followed was deafening. ‘Where is she now?’

Lila turned then, the look of contempt on her face clearly apparent. ‘At home, Declan, with me—where she belongs.’

‘But how…?’ His voice was bewildered now. ‘It’s been eight years. How do you manage? I mean with work and everything?’

‘I manage.’ She gave him the frostiest of looks. ‘That’s all you need to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get on.’ But as she went to go his hand reached out and caught her wrist, gently pulling her back.

‘Lila,’ he said, not letting her go. ‘I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable—I had no idea that you worked here.’

Though he wasn’t holding her tightly, she was achingly aware of the force of his touch. Shrugging him off, Lila picked up a marker pen. ‘Well, how would you know? It’s not as if we kept in touch…’

‘Which was your choice, as I recall.’

Crossing out the name of the patient in cubicle four on the whiteboard, Lila scribbled in the new patient’s details. ‘I can assure you, Declan, your being here doesn’t worry me one bit. We’ve both got jobs to do. It doesn’t mean we have to be the best of friends; we’re just colleagues.’

‘No, but it would be nice if we could at least be civil. Who knows? With a bit of effort from both sides maybe we could be friends again. After all, we had some good times, Lila.’

She hesitated. Friends was the last thing she could ever be with him, but if she betrayed the strength of the emotions that were engulfing her now then surely that would only make things more uncomfortable. Forcing a smile, Lila turned and faced him, dragging her eyes up to meet his. ‘Sure—why not?’ she said finally, offering her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you Dr Haversham.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Sister Bailey. Tell me, would you be interested in catching up for a drink some time?’

Lila’s laugh was almost genuine. ‘Don’t push your luck, Declan. Friends at work is enough to be going on with, I think. Don’t you?’

* * *

By eleven p.m. the place was full, fit to burst. Not only were there a lot of sick people waiting to be seen and dealt with, but also the pubs were turning out and with them the inevitable fights and arguments that invariably found their way to the emergency department. The staff were all more than used to the organised chaos, and dealt good-humouredly with the constant stream, keeping a careful eye out for any likely sources of trouble.

‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ a young man slurred as the paramedics lifted him over onto a trolley. ‘I didn’t know nurses were so good-looking.’

Lila rolled her eyes as she pulled on her gloves.

‘Fight outside Kerry’s pub,’ the paramedic reeled off. ‘Terry Linton, eighteen years old, multiple lacerations courtesy of a knife; they all appear superficial and his obs have been stable throughout.’

‘Thanks, guys. Any more to bring in?’

‘But of course.’ He gave her a rueful grin, depositing soiled blankets in the linen skip. ‘No doubt we’ll catch you later.’

‘No doubt about it.’

Undressing Terry, Lila ignored his extremely unsubtle advances, concentrating instead on checking each wound carefully. The paramedics were right; they did look superficial—except for one across his left loin. Though small, Lila couldn’t assess the depth of the wound, and from the paramedic’s description of the knife there was every chance it might have gone deep enough to cause some internal trauma.

‘You ever been to Kerry’s? You should try it. They have a happy hour every night from five till six, drinks half-price—even those fancy cocktails girls like. I could take you when you get a night off. We’d have a real laugh.’

As Lila placed a wad of Melolin and combine over the leaking wound the tell-tale signs of flashing stars appeared before her eyes.

Why did blood have this effect on her? It was ridiculous that after all these years—after all the study she had done, the sights she had seen—for no reason, completely out of the blue, a small wound such as this could turn her stomach.

‘A real laugh,’ Lila said dryly, shifting her mind to Terry’s attempts at a chat-up. ‘I think I might give it a miss, thanks.’ Strapping the combine into place, she popped Terry into a gown and quickly recorded a set of obs.

‘Need a hand?’ Sue’s smiling face appeared at the curtain.

‘Please. I might move this one over to Resus. Can you give me a hand with the trolley?’

That stopped him in his tracks! ‘What are you moving me there for? I’m not dying, am I?’

‘No, Terry, I just want to keep a closer eye on you until you’ve been seen by the doctor.’

‘But Resus is where they put the real crook ones. I’ve seen it on the telly. You’ll be putting those electric shock things on me next.’

Lila grinned. ‘You watch too much television, Terry. Look,’ she said, slipping an oxygen mask over the young man’s face, ‘you’ve got some nasty wounds there. The trouble with knife wounds is that we don’t always know how deep they are until they’ve been explored. I’m just playing it safe by putting you in there for now.’

‘So I’m not dying?’

‘I certainly hope not—it makes far too much paperwork!’ Her humour relaxed Terry, and when she saw him smiling again Lila continued. ‘Still, you’re not going to be going home tonight. Is there anyone I can ring for you?’

‘No way. If my mum finds out she’ll kill me. If you think these wounds are bad just wait till she’s finished with me.’

Lila glanced at the casualty card, checking his age with the one the paramedics had given. Terry was eighteen, the decision was his, and, as was common in his age group, Terry had declined to give his telephone number.

‘Won’t they be expecting you home?’

‘No.’ He screwed up his nose. ‘They’ll think I’m staying at me mate’s. I mean it. I don’t want them told.’

‘Up to you,’ Lila said. ‘But, Terry, if you do become ill—and I’m not saying it’s going to happen; I ask this of everyone—can I contact them then?’

Terry looked at her suspiciously.

‘I promise I’ll only ring them in an emergency.’

‘Promise?’

Lila nodded.

‘Fair enough.’ After relaying the number, Terry sat forward. ‘Can you pass me jeans up so I can get some money out? I’ll get me mate to fetch me a drink from the machine.’

‘Didn’t those medical dramas on the television teach you anything?’ Lila said good-naturedly. ‘Nothing to eat or drink till the doctor’s seen you.’

Declan was tied up, so it was left to the intern, Diana Pool, to assess Terry.

‘They all seem pretty superficial, though I see what you mean about the one to his loin. I’d better refer him to the surgeons. I know Mr Hinkley doesn’t like knife wounds to be sutured down in the department.’

‘Good call,’ Lila agreed. Mr Hinkley was senior consultant of the emergency department and, though not the most exciting of personalities, he was a diligent and respected boss.

The trouble was that Jez, the surgical resident, though thorough in his examination, was less than impressed with the referral.

‘They’re fairly minor injuries. I’m happy for him to be stitched up and discharged.’

‘Fair enough. If you’re happy then so am I.’ Diana accepted back the casualty card Jez had hastily scribbled on.

‘Sorry, guys.’ Lila, anticipating trouble, had been discreetly hovering. ‘He’s a surgical patient now—it’s not up to Diana to stitch him.’

Jez pursed his lips. He was young and good-looking, and also far too used to getting his own way—only not when Lila was on duty. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘If that’s the way you want to play it then I’ll do it myself, but can I at least have a nurse to help in Theatre?’

Lila’s voice remained calm, friendly even, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of her tone. ‘I’m afraid not, Jez. You know as well as I do that surgical patients can’t be stitched down in Emergency. Our theatre’s only designed for superficial wounds.’

‘Which these are.’

‘Not according to Mr Hinkley: ‘‘A stab wound can only be considered superficial when the wound has been thoroughly explored.’’ He’ll either have to go to the main theatre or be stitched up on the ward, if your boss agrees. It’s the department’s policy.’

‘Since when were you such a stickler for policy?’ Declan’s friendly tones as he made his way over broke the rather tense atmosphere that had developed.

‘When the policy concerned is in the best interests of a patient then I’m a stickler.’ Lila turned defiantly from Jez to Declan. ‘I have a young man with multiple lacerations. One in particular looks deep—’

‘It isn’t,’ Jez broke in. ‘Look, I’m happy for him to be stitched up, I’ve even offered to do it myself, but Sister here insists he goes up to Theatre or at least a ward. Considering that the rest of the surgical team are stuck in Theatre, it could be hours until he’s seen.’ He threw a withering look at Lila. ‘And we all know the department’s policy about patient waiting times.’

Declan grinned as Lila gritted her teeth. ‘So it’s stalemate?’

‘It would seem so.’ Lila found she was holding her breath. She knew she was right, and that Mr Hinkley and even Hester, come to that, would support her on this. But that wasn’t what was worrying her. Declan’s take on this mattered, and not just in a medical sense. If they were going to work together effectively as a team, if they were going to cast aside their differences in the name of peace, she needed his support here.

Her personal feelings, her innermost thoughts, didn’t apply—at least, she tried not to let them.

‘Can I see the casualty card?’

Jez handed it over, watching as Declan flicked through the notes.

‘You’re a braver man than me!’ Declan looked up. ‘I personally wouldn’t like to stand up in court and explain my findings based on these notes.’

‘He has superficial wounds,’ Jez insisted, though rather less forcibly. Declan was, after all, far more senior than him.

‘Appears to have,’ Declan said, his face suddenly serious. ‘As Lila pointed out, until the wounds are thoroughly explored by a senior doctor they cannot be called superficial. Now, I suggest you get your registrar down here, and if he doesn’t want to take the patient to Theatre I’ll repeat my argument to him. And one other thing,’ he said as he handed back the casualty card to a fuming Jez, ‘I’d try listening to the nursing staff a bit more if I were you. They can make your life one hell of a lot easier.’

As Jez flounced off to the telephone Lila realised a thank-you might be in order. But that didn’t stop it sticking in her throat. ‘Thanks for that.’

‘No worries. I meant what I said. The last thing a doctor needs is the emergency nurses offside, particularly the night team. If Jez doesn’t realise that then it’s time he learnt. Now, if there are any problems with the reg, be sure and let me know. How are Terry’s obs?’

‘Stable.’

‘Good.’

She knew she should go now—after all there were a hundred and one things that needed to be done—but for some reason Lila found her legs wouldn’t move.

‘I’ve just seen a Vera Hamilton. From the pile of notes outside her cubicle I assume she’s a regular?’

Lila nodded. ‘We all know Vera. What’s wrong tonight? Her leg ulcer?’

‘So she says. Frankly, I can’t see much to write home about.’

Lila laughed. ‘Vera’s a manic depressive. She works her way back to us about once a month under various guises, and her ‘‘leg ulcer’’ is the most common excuse.’

‘She just needs a dry dressing. I offered to do it, but she said you normally took care of her.’

‘No worries. I’ll get around to her when I can.’

The conversation was over, or at least it should have been, but he still stood there.

And to her utter surprise it was she herself who resurrected it. ‘Do you fancy a curry?’

‘Lila!’ Declan’s face broke into a grin. ‘I’ll have to defend you more often. A couple of hours ago you wouldn’t even consider a drink, now you’re asking me out for dinner.’

‘In your dreams.’ Lila grinned. ‘The staff have a whip-round about now and ring for a take-away. Tonight is curry night.’ She couldn’t be certain, but she was almost sure a hint of a blush crept over his face as he reached for his wallet.

‘How much?’

‘That should do it.’ Cheekily she grabbed a ten-dollar note from his hands. ‘And we don’t complicate things by taking individual orders. ‘Chicken Jalfrezi with saffron rice and Kashmiri naan are the go tonight.’

‘Sounds great. When do we get to eat?’

‘When you get rid of all the patients.’

* * *

Whether the delicious fragrance of curry proved an incentive, or whether it was merely the fact that Declan was a good worker, by three a.m. most of the patients had been moved up to the wards or stitched and sent home. A couple of patients remained, awaiting X-rays and bloods, and two or three of the city’s homeless slept soundly on trolleys.

‘I don’t know what it is about you,’ Sue said, laughing as she tucked a blanket around Henry, one of their regular tramps, ‘but all the down-and-outs seem to congregate here the nights you’re on. Could it have something to do with the breakfast you order them from the kitchen?’

Lila shrugged. ‘They don’t do any harm. I mean, they’re happy to wait in the waiting room until the place is quieter, and they all have ulcers and the like that do need to be treated. A few hours’ sleep on a warm trolley and breakfast is hardly a big deal.’

‘It would be if the Horse found out.’

‘I’ll deal with that when it happens. Come on, Sue, I’m starving.’

The curry was set up in the small relatives’ room at the entrance to the department. The position was ideal for confused and anxious relatives while their loved one was whizzed on to Resus. During quiet times it served also as an extra staffroom for the night crew. From here they had a full view of any new patients, could hear the tyre screeches of a car pulling up, and if the need arose any curries or pizzas were cleared away more hastily than if one’s mother-in-law had just descended for a surprise visit.

Peeling the cardboard lids off the foil containers, Lila managed a grimace at the rather unkempt plates.

‘Get your hands off me, you horrible man!’ Vera’s far from dulcet tones carried the length and breadth of the department.

‘I think Declan just tried to dress Vera’s ulcer.’ Lila laughed.

‘You never let him go without warning him about Vera?’ Sue choked. ‘The poor guy! What did he ever do to you?’

Spooning the rice onto plates, Lila kept her face hidden from Sue’s scrutiny.

‘He did plenty,’ Lila muttered, more to herself than to Sue. ‘He did plenty.’

‘She loves me really.’ Declan’s face appeared round the door and Lila flushed unbecomingly. How much had he heard?

She stopped furiously spooning curry as she realised one plate was receiving rather more than its fair share of chicken Jalfrezi.

‘The only person Vera loves is Lila,’ Sue said matter-of-factly, and with relief Lila realised Declan’s comments had been purely about the patient.

‘I told you I’d get round to her,’ Lila said tartly, handing Declan an overloaded plate.

‘Four hours ago,’ he said pointedly. ‘Look, I know you’ve been busy, and that her leg ulcer’s not serious, but it just seemed a shame that she was still waiting. I was only trying to help.’

‘Vera’s happy to wait,’ she explained with a cheeky grin. ‘More than happy. Normally I get around to her about six a.m.—about the time early breakfasts are served. The last thing she wants is to be seen and discharged.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me that?’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘But then that would have spoiled your fun, wouldn’t it?’

Lila scuffed at the floor with her foot. Hell, it had only been a bit of fun—so why was she suddenly feeling so guilty?

‘New boy’s tease,’ she said finally, knowing how hollow her words sounded.

Picking up his supper, he gave her a bemused look. ‘Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the cabaret.’

* * *

‘That,’ said Declan scraping his plate, ‘would have to be the best curry I’ve had in years. Is it always as busy as this here?’

‘Always,’ Lila said truthfully. ‘You wait for the weekend. Where were you working before?’

‘In a lovely county hospital in bonny Scotland. Mind you, I was in London before then—and that was an eye-opener, I can assure you.’

Lila deliberately didn’t look impressed. ‘I remember visiting an emergency room in New York when I was a flight attendant—it made here look like a picnic in the park.’

‘New York’s busy,’ Declan agreed. ‘Or at least it was when I was there. But you want to see the emergency rooms in Chicago—they’re constantly full-on.’

Lila picked up the last of the naan bread. ‘I’m not going to win, am I? So what brought you back to good old Melbourne?’

He was saved from answering as Jez appeared at the door, carrying flowers.

‘Lila, I come in peace.’ Handing her the bouquet, Jez gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘I nicked them from Admin on my way back from Theatre.’

‘How’s Terry?’ Lila asked, accepting the rather wilted offering.

‘Bled out on the way up to Theatre—a nasty wound to his kidney. Thankfully we were able to repair it. He’s in Recovery now.’

‘Then it’s just as well he wasn’t stitched and sent home.’ Lila couldn’t resist stating the obvious, but she was smiling.

‘Lesson well and truly learnt,’ Jez said seriously, and, ignoring the crowd of staff gathered, carried on talking to Lila, undaunted by his audience. ‘I think I owe you a proper thank-you. How about dinner some time?’

The sniggers from Sue and Lucy didn’t go unnoticed.

‘Thanks, Jez, but it might get a bit expensive. I mean, there’s Declan and Diana to thank as well. The flowers will do nicely.’

As he left, Lila returned to her seat amid the howls of her colleagues. ‘How do you do it, Lila? Gorgeous men dropping at your feet and you just kick them away.’

The only one not joining in with the laughter was Declan. Suddenly his empty plate was being examined thoroughly.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Lila said softly. ‘Years of practice, I guess. I mean, it starts off with meals and flowers, but we all know how it ends up.’

Declan looked up, catching her eye as he did so. This time she held his gaze, her words directed at him alone. ‘And I’m never going to be let down again.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘HI, LILA, how was your night?’

‘Pretty busy.’ Lila kissed her aunt, Shirley, on the cheek. ‘How has Mum been?’

‘The same. We’ll have a cuppa and then we’ll give her a bath.’ Shirley filled the kettle, as she did every morning when Lila arrived home, but there was something wooden about her movements, an awkwardness that didn’t go undetected. ‘Lila, I need to talk to you about something.’

Lila felt her heart plummet. She had known this day was coming, and in the last few weeks had sensed it was even more imminent. Sitting at the kitchen table, she tried for a futile moment to imagine she’d somehow misread the signs. But as Shirley joined her, unable to meet her eyes, Lila knew the news she had been dreading was about to be delivered.

‘Your uncle Ted has been offered early retirement,’ Shirley said finally.

Ted was a security officer and worked the same shifts as Lila. It worked well, or at least it had until now…While Ted worked Shirley looked after Elizabeth, and when Ted was off Lila took over, allowing Ted and Shirley to live their lives.

‘He wants to take it, Lila. I didn’t want to worry you with our problems but Ted has been having a few health issues of his own. Nothing to worry about,’ she quickly reassured her as she saw the look of concern flash over Lila’s face. ‘Just a couple of men’s issues. He’d be so embarrassed if he knew I was discussing it with you. The thing is, Ted deserves his retirement. He’s worked so hard. We want to be able to go away, have holidays. We always dreamed of taking the combo van and travelling around Australia…’ Shirley dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. ‘I feel so torn. Elizabeth’s my sister. I’d do anything to help her. But Ted’s my husband, and he’s been a good one. How many men would take in their sister-in-law and niece? I’m sorry,’ she said quickly, ‘I didn’t mean it to come out like that.’

‘I know,’ Lila said softly, taking her aunt’s hand from across the table to show that no offence had been taken. ‘You and Ted have been marvellous.’

They had been. Almost as soon as Elizabeth had been diagnosed, Shirley, realising the impossibility of the situation, had suggested that both Lila and Elizabeth move in with her and Ted to share the burden. Shirley was an eccentric, to say the least, and with no children of their own, opening their house the way they had, it had been a huge upheaval. Yet they had borne it all cheerfully, never once grumbling about how their lives had been turned around by Elizabeth’s illness.

But now it was time for change.

‘I know you don’t want her to go into a home. But, Lila, your mum…’ She struggled for the words to describe the shell that remained of what had once been an elegant, eloquent woman. ‘Your mum wouldn’t know any different.’

‘But I’d know. Mum would hate the—’

‘She’d hate the fact you’ve given up your life to look after her,’ Shirley interrupted. ‘She’d hate the fact you work so hard and then come home at the end of a long night just to start all over again. Hate the fact you hardly ever go out.’

Lila searched for an answer. The last thing she wanted to do was make this horrible situation worse for Shirley, to make her feel guilty for saying the words most people would have said years ago. But a home…

‘Now, Ted’s retirement isn’t going to happen for a couple of months yet. We don’t have to make any decision today, Lila, but we are going to have to soon.’ She smiled through her tears at her niece. ‘I’m not definitely saying your mum has to go into a home; I’m saying I can’t be here as much to help. My back is starting to hurt—lifting her, turning her. I just don’t see an end to it. You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you, Lila?’

Lila made her way around the table to hug her aunt as she spoke. ‘Of course I do.’ She swallowed back her own tears. ‘And I promise I’ll come up with something.’

‘I know you will, pet. What worries me is what you’ll come up with. You’re thirty-one years old now, Lila—you can’t let your life slip by like this. It’s not good for any of us, least of all your mother. Look, I’ve probably said too much for one day already. Why don’t you head off to bed, darling, try and get some sleep?’

Lila nodded, but as she reached the door she turned. ‘Shirley, there’s some forms I need to drop off at the hospital before five. Would you be able to watch Mum for me?’

‘Of course, darling.’

Alone in her room, Lila pulled the application forms out of her bag. It had never really entered her head to apply, but Hester’s words had made the chance of promotion a real possibility. Now, with Shirley’s bombshell…Closing her eyes, Lila tried to search for answers. How could she possibly afford a carer to stay with Elizabeth while she went out to work? It would be more cost effective to go on the dole and nurse her mum full time herself.

But…She felt a tinge of panic hit. How could she give up her job? OK, she wasn’t the best nurse in the world, and she moaned like everyone else about the shortages and workload, but she truly loved her job—loved the people, loved the escape work gave her from her everyday problems. How could she even begin to think about giving it up?

Clicking her pen open, she started to work her way through the endless forms. If she was going to have to employ someone to help her look after her mother, a decent wage was more important now than ever.

If there was any consolation to be had from the day’s events, it was that Lila didn’t have time to dwell on Declan’s return. Any other time it would have completely overwhelmed her, but not today. Today was a day for filling out forms, working out figures, planning a future—not dwelling on the past, imagining days long since gone, a time when Declan had been beside her.

A time when life had been easy.

* * *

Hester took the forms without a word, which made Lila’s journey to the hospital somewhat of an anticlimax. Only when she returned home and fed Elizabeth her supper, then settled her into bed for the night, did Lila’s stomach suddenly tighten at the thought of seeing Declan again tonight.

Maybe she did tie up her hair more neatly and apply her make-up just a little bit more carefully, but it was more a matter of personal pride than vanity. She certainly wasn’t going to allow Declan to think even for a minute that she had let herself go.

That was a joke. Eyeing her reflection in the mirror, Lila paused a moment. Her naturally thick blonde hair was as glossy as ever, her figure still trim. But the sparkle in her blue eyes was long since gone, and a quick slick of mascara and a neutral lipstick replaced the immaculate glossy make-up of yesteryear.

‘Well, what did you expect?’ Lila scolded herself. ‘You’re not a flight attendant now.’ It had been easy to look stunning then, with cheap access to the world’s best cosmetics, advice from the airline’s stylists, her nails and hair done weekly. And, Lila thought reluctantly, she was eight years older now—eight long years. Of course her skin wasn’t going to be quite as clear. She was the wrong side of thirty now, not some twenty-something beauty.

Poking her tongue out at her reflection, Lila caught sight of the clock on her dressing-table. With a yelp of dismay she pulled on her shoes and grabbed her bag, just stopping to give her mother and Shirley a quick kiss before she torpedoed out of the front door and into her car.

So much for making a good impression on Hester!

* * *

For once the department was quiet, with just a few patients waiting to be seen by various specialists or awaiting their turn for X-rays. As soon as the day staff had gone Lila pulled the kettle round to the nurses’ station.

‘Might as well get our caffeine levels up while we’ve got the chance.’ She grinned.

‘Good idea.’ Yvonne Selles walked over. ‘It’s Lila, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right. How can I help you, Dr Selles? Apart from the coffee, I mean?’

‘Please, call me Yvonne. I’m expecting a direct admission from a nursing home. I wasn’t quite sure of the procedure as my ward is full, so I’ve asked the ambulance to bring her directly to Emergency. I hope that’s all right.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks for letting us know. What’s wrong with the patient?’

‘Pressure sores, along with dehydration. I shouldn’t have accepted her really, as I haven’t got any beds left, but according to the GP she’s in a bit of a mess and I could hardly refuse to take her. Her GP was pretty upset the home didn’t call him out a lot sooner. Some of these nursing homes need to take a good long look at themselves. It seems more about profit than people these days. Sorry.’ Yvonne gave a thin smile. ‘I’ll get off my soapbox now. It just gets to me sometimes.’

‘I know,’ Lila said softly, swallowing a lump in her own throat. ‘It gets to me, too. Anyway—’ she deliberately brightened her voice ‘—there’s a couple of free beds on the medical ward. If you admit the patient to Med 1 you can transfer her over to AGU tomorrow.’

‘Looking for some action, Yvonne?’ Grinning, Declan joined the group.

In an instant Lila felt as if her senses had been put on high alert. She could almost feel the breeze from him as he walked over.

‘He thinks only staff in Emergency do any work.’ Yvonne grinned. ‘Just because my patients are old, it doesn’t mean they’re not sick,’ she scolded lightly. ‘I still have to use my brain.’

Lila jumped down from her stool as Harry, the porter, wheeled a patient back from X-Ray. ‘Declan, would you mind having a quick look at these? Diana thinks it may be pneumonia and he’ll probably need to be referred on.’

‘Sure.’

With an easy smile he took the X-rays from Harry and made his way over to the viewing box.

‘Phew,’ Yvonne said. ‘It’s a different place here at night.’

‘We’re not normally this quiet,’ Sue said almost defensively.

‘I didn’t mean that.’ Yvonne smiled. ‘It’s just so much more relaxed and friendly. I was down here this afternoon and the unit manager nearly had a fit because I brought my coffee round the front.’

‘That’d be right,’ Lila groaned.

‘So how come it’s so different down here at night?’

‘Different staff,’ Lila said, climbing back onto the high stool. ‘Night staff on the whole are a lot nicer—in my opinion, of course. We’re not all pulled into the politics of days, fighting over any interesting patients, trying to look busy when it’s quiet.’ She laughed. ‘Now, who’s up on their soapbox?’

‘And what does Hester have to say about all this?’ Yvonne gestured to the tray overloaded with cups and cakes and biscuits.

‘Plenty,’ Lila admitted. ‘But I’ve told her that when she provides enough staff so that we can have our full breaks I’ll put away the running buffet, but until then it stays. Speaking of which, I’m going to have a huge slice of cake—do you fancy a piece?’

‘Just a small one, and then I’d better get on and do some work.’

‘Where were you before you worked here?’ Lila asked, plunging a knife into a vast walnut cake.

‘Home—Scotland,’ Yvonne added.

‘So what brings you to Melbourne?’

Yvonne shrugged. ‘I just fancied a change, a few personal reasons.’

‘Declan was saying he worked in Scotland for a while,’ Sue commented as the knife Lila was holding froze in the cake.

‘He’s one of the personal reasons,’ Yvonne said lightly.

‘You worked with him there.’ Suddenly Lila’s voice was strangely high.

‘A bit more than that,’ Yvonne admitted, and Lila saw she was blushing.

‘So you’re an item?’ Sue pushed happily, delighted to be the first with the gossip.

‘Well, we are living together,’ Yvonne admitted, blushing ever deeper as she did so. ‘So, yes, I guess we are.’

The knife was working rapidly now, slicing the cake with lightning speed. It had never even entered her head. Not for a single second. Even with Yvonne’s accent, even when Declan had mentioned he’d worked in Scotland, even the fact they’d started on the same day. Not once had it occurred to Lila that they might be together.

There just didn’t seem to be anything between them. OK, so she’d hardly seen them together, just at Yvonne’s lecture and for a couple of minutes this evening, but there was nothing that had indicated to Lila they were a couple. No stolen glances, no sexual tension, nothing. Yes, they were at work. And, yes, you didn’t have to be constantly touching to be a couple, but surely there would have been some vibe? Surely. Her mind whizzed back eight years. They could have been on the other side of the room yet there had always been an energy between them—a constant awareness that had permeated the room.

She wasn’t still hung up on Declan—it was over, over, over.

It just seemed so unfair, that was all. His life had moved on, ever onwards, while she herself seemed frozen where he’d left her. And not even there, apart from her wardrobe perhaps. Eight years ago she had been stunning, had had a great social life and a glamorous job. Eight years, five extra kilos and no social life later, that’s where Declan had found her.

‘Are you still here?’ Declan grinned at Yvonne.

The same way he grinned at everyone, everyone except her.

‘Still here. One more patient to admit and then I’ll head off home, though I think I might wait for her to arrive in the doctors’ mess and have a doze while I’m waiting. I don’t suppose you picked up milk, like I asked?’

Yvonne glanced over at Lila, an almost imperceptible flash of triumph in her eyes. She knows about us, Lila realised, and she’s making sure I know that they’re together now.

‘Of course I didn’t,’ Declan answered cheerfully, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the tiny annex. ‘I’ve rung Chest Med, Lila,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘They want the patient sent straight up to the ward and they’ll clerk him there.’

‘I’ll go,’ Sue said, swinging down from the work bench.

But Yvonne hadn’t finished turning the knife. ‘Anything else you want me to pick up from the all-night store, Declan—anything you fancy?’

Declan laughed ‘Plenty, but let’s just leave it at milk for now, huh?’

Once Yvonne had gone Declan helped himself to a huge piece of cake. ‘Who made this?’

‘Lila,’ Sue said as she picked up the patients’ files and headed off to the ward.

‘Really?’ Declan took a tentative bite and grabbed his throat. ‘Put out a crash call, I’ve been poisoned.’

‘Very funny,’ Lila said, suddenly finding her tongue. ‘But, then, everything always was a joke to you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Declan asked, his voice suddenly serious.

‘You know full well.’

‘No, Lila, I don’t. What have I done now?’

She shot him a look. ‘You mean apart from strolling back into my life and expecting us to be friends?’

‘Yes, Lila.’ His voice was deep and his eyes searched hers. ‘Yes, Lila,’ he repeated. ‘Apart from that.’

What could she say? That the news he was living with Yvonne had devastated her? That, though she hadn’t even realised it, she had somehow harboured a hope that maybe, just maybe there might have been a chance for them?

Of course not. She tore her eyes away. Lying was hard enough without looking at him. ‘I think I made a mistake yesterday,’ she replied finally, ‘when I said we could be friends. There’s too much water under the bridge.’

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