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‘Like what?’
‘The whole words—“lasting relationship”. I never even heard you say that about Mr Spain. You must really like our Dr Donovan.’
‘I guess I do.’ There. She’d said the words out loud. And to someone other than herself. It almost felt like a confession.
A little smile appeared at the corner of
Lucy’s mouth. ‘That’s what Lynn and I were talking about at Belinda the fortune-teller’s house. We’d already pegged Brad for you and thought you’d make a nice couple.’
Cassidy stared at her as memories of that night and their knowing nods sprang up in her brain. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’
Lucy shook her head, looking quite pleased with herself. ‘No. We thought you’d be a good fit together. And we were right.’
Cassidy put down her mug and started to fiddle with her hair clip. ‘Well, you can’t exactly say that now, can you?’
‘Yes, I can. I still think you’re a good fit.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘So what’s been the outcome of Brad’s big disclosure? Did you run screaming from the room? Have a tantrum? Go off in a huff?’
Cassidy lowered her head. ‘That’s just it. There’s not really been an outcome. I’m still seeing him and we’ve talked about it a few times—but we’ve really only skirted around the edges.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’ve no idea what the big outcome will be.’ She shook her head, ‘I don’t think he knows either.’
Lucy’s brow puckered. She nipped Cassidy’s arm. ‘Who are you, and what have you done with the real Cassidy Rae? The one that always knows precisely what she, and everyone around about her, is doing?’
‘Don’t, Lucy. Don’t remind me how much of an idiot I’m being.’
Lucy’s face broke into a smile as she tipped the rest of her tea down the sink and rinsed her cup. ‘I don’t think you’re being an idiot, Cass. For the first time in your life I think you are head over heels in love.’ And with that comment she walked out the ward, leaving a shocked Cass still standing at the sink.
The rest of Cassidy’s shift was bedlam. Every patient that was admitted was elderly and suffering from effects of the cold. It broke her heart.
‘Is this the last one?’ she asked as Brad appeared next to another patient being wheeled onto the ward.
He shook his head and ran his hand through his rumpled hair. ‘Nope. I’ve just been paged by the doctor on-call service. They’re sending another one in. Ten patients in the last twenty-four hours, all suffering from some effects of cold.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You don’t see this often in Australia. I think I’ve only ever looked after one case of hypothermia before. Today has been a huge learning curve.’
‘Why so many?’
‘The temperature apparently dropped to minus twenty last night. Some of these patients only get social-care services during the week—so some of them weren’t discovered until this morning. The sad thing is, only two had heating systems that weren’t working. The rest were just too scared to put them on because of the huge rise in their heating bills.’
Cassidy waited as they moved their patient over into the hospital bed. He was very frail, hardly any muscle tone at all, his skin hanging in folds around his thin frame. She bundled the covers around him. ‘Go and see if you can find any spare duvets or blankets,’ she asked one of the nursing auxiliaries.
Brad handed over his chart. ‘Frank Johnson is eighty, lives alone and has a past history of COPD and heart disease. You can see he’s underweight. He hasn’t been eating, and when he was admitted his temperature was thirty-four degrees centigrade. He’d got so confused he’d actually started taking his clothes off, as he thought he was overheating. He was barely conscious when the social-care staff found him this morning.’
Cassidy nodded. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. She looked at the IV fluids currently connected—often the patients admitted with hypothermia were also dehydrated. ‘What’s the plan for him?’
Brad pointed to the chart. ‘He’s been in A and E for a few hours, and his temperature is gradually climbing. It’s thirty-six now, still below normal, but he’s certainly less confused. Try and get some more fluids and some food into him. I want four-hourly obs and refer him to Social Services and Dietetics. We’ve got to try and get him some better assistance.’ He waved his hand around the ward.
‘In fact, those rules apply to just about everyone that’s been admitted in the last twenty-four hours.’ He looked down at his own bare arms, where his hairs were practically standing on end. ‘It doesn’t help that this place is freezing, too. What’s going on?’
Cassidy gave him a weary smile. ‘Old hospital, old heating system. This place is always like this in winter.’
‘Tomorrow I’m going to bring in a sleeping bag and walk about in it. Do you think they’ll get the hint and try to sort this place out?’
She laughed. ‘That would be a sight to see. But good luck. Look at all the staff on the ward—all wearing two cardigans over their uniforms. I hate long sleeves—it’s an infection-control hazard. But the temperature in this place is ridiculous. I can hardly tell them to take them off.’
‘If you come into my office, I can think of an alternative way to heat you up.’
Cassidy’s cheeks instantly flushed and she looked around to check no one had heard his comment. ‘Brad!’
He gave her a wicked smile. ‘We both know cold temperatures can cause confusion, and it wouldn’t do for the doctors and nurses to be confused. I’m just trying to keep us at the top of our game.’
She titled her head to one side. ‘Dr Donovan, if the cold is getting to you, I’ll even go so far as to make you a cup of coffee. That should heat you up.’
‘And if I’d prefer something else?’
‘Then you’ll just have to wait.’ She folded her arms across her chest. It was almost time for the shift change—time to go home. And Brad must be due to finish as he’d been on call the night before. He looked knackered. As if he could keel over at any moment. But he could still manage to give her that sexy smile and those come-to-bed eyes. And no matter how much she told herself she should walk away, she just couldn’t.
‘I have something for you.’
‘What?’
He pulled something from the pocket of his pale blue scrubs. A pair of rumpled tickets. Cassidy recognised the insignia on them instantly. Her mouth fell open. ‘The skating rink! You remembered.’
‘Of course I remembered. You said you wanted to go skating the night the ice rink opened in George Square so I bought us some tickets.’
She stared at the tickets. There it was again. Just when everything in her head was giving her lots of reasons to end this relationship. Just when she hadn’t been alone with him for a few days and felt as though she was starting to shake him out her system—he did something like this.
Something thoughtful. Something kind. Something that would matter only to her. He’d even managed to plan ahead—a trait d
istinctly lacking in most men she knew.
‘So are we going to capture the spirit of Christmas?’ he whispered in her ear.
One look from those big blue eyes and he was instantly back in her system. Like a double-shot espresso. ‘You bet ya!’ She smiled at him.
20 November
‘I don’t think we need an ice rink. These pavements are bad enough,’ Brad grumbled as he grabbed hold of Cassidy’s waist to stop her skidding one more time.
She slid her hand, encased in a red leather glove, into his. ‘Don’t be such a grump. And look at this place, it’s buzzing! Isn’t it great?’
Brad looked around. He had to admit Glasgow did the whole Christmas-decoration thing well. There were gold and red Christmas lights strung along the length of Buchanan Street, twinkling against the dark night sky, trying to keep the late-night shoppers in the mood for Christmas. The street was thronged with hundreds of people, all wrapped against the bitter-cold weather, their warm breath visible in the cold night air.
But even though the lights were impressive, he couldn’t take his eyes off Cassidy. She seemed to have a coat for every colour of the rainbow. And in the last few days he had seen them all.
But it was her grandmother’s red wool coat that suited her most, even though it probably wouldn’t withstand the freezing temperatures of tonight.
This evening Cassidy had layered up with two cardigans beneath the slim-fitting coat. She had accessorised with a black hat and scarf and red leather gloves, with a pair of thick black boots on her feet. But even in all those clothes it was her eyes that sparkled most.
As they turned the corner into George Square, the lights were even brighter.
An international Christmas market filled the edges of the square, immediately swamping them in a delicious array of smells. The ice rink took up the middle of the square, with a huge Christmas tree—still to be lit—at one end and an observation wheel at the other. Around the edges were an old-fashioned
helter-skelter, a café/bar and a merry-go-round. Families were everywhere, children chattering with excitement about the lights being switched on.
