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‘Oh,’ Thomas huffed, only slightly appeased, but then he turned to his wife when she surprised everyone.
‘Lizzie!’ Faye’s smile was wide.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Lizzie went over and kissed her again as if she’d just walked in. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not so bad …’ She looked at Leo. ‘Who’s this?’
‘I’m Leo,’ Leo answered again. ‘I’m a friend of Lizzie’s.’
‘It’s lovely to see you with someone …’ Faye said to her daughter, and Lizzie cringed. She usually craved her mother’s rare moments of near-lucidity—the times when Faye actually recognised her daughter, and they could have an almost normal conversation, but did she have to do her reminiscing in front of Leo? ‘Better looking than that Peter,’ Faye said. ‘He was no good for Lizzie,’ she told Leo. ‘Lizzie has wanted a husband and children since the day she was born and all Peter wanted …’ Her voice trailed off as she lost her train of thought. ‘Have you seen my watch, Lizzie?’
Leo was actually fantastic with them but, then, naturally he would be, Lizzie reminded herself. He had a fantastic bedside manner. He chatted with her father about the traffic and it was a relief for Lizzie not to have to go over and over every detail of the journey down to Brighton for once. She left it to Leo and sorted her mum’s hair and encouraged a couple of drinks of lemonade into her.
‘Has she got any cranberry juice?’ Lizzie asked, because she always brought some with her but yet again it had gone missing.
‘I’ll go and get some,’ Leo offered.
‘The shop will be closed.’
‘I’ll find somewhere.’
He did. Leo was back ten minutes later.
‘The garage had some.’
Lizzie could only smile. Leo would have no idea how much cranberry juice cost, let alone care that it was double the price at the garage.
It was all these tiny things that constantly rammed home to Lizzie that their worlds were completely different.
The drive home was a slightly strained one. Leo might not know much about the cost of cranberry juice but he did know the cost of other things. The home her parents were in would cost a small fortune and, as they chatted, he soon worked out that, no, it hadn’t all been covered by the sale of their house and Lizzie was paying for a lot of things.
‘It must be a strain.’
‘It is.’ Lizzie could now admit it. ‘But growing up they gave me everything—it’s the least I can do.’
Her selflessness unnerved him. That she would give everything she had to ensure her parents’ comfort, that she would drop everything for what had turned out to be a simple UTI.
‘Well, at least you won’t have to go this weekend.’ He turned and briefly looked at her. ‘Given that you’ve already been. Which is good because I’ve got a dinner to go to on Saturday and—’
‘Today was a bonus visit,’ Lizzie interrupted, with an edge to her voice. ‘Of course I’m still going this weekend, it’s Mum’s birthday.’
‘You are allowed to have a life, Lizzie.’
‘I do have a life,’ Lizzie snapped back. ‘And this is it.’
It wasn’t a row, it was an almost row.
Both confirmed it when, for the first time, that night they didn’t make love.
Or have sex.
Or whatever Leo told himself it was.
He lay on his back as she slept beside him, going over all that her mother had said about Lizzie wanting a husband and babies.
Lizzie, Leo decided as he finally drifted off to sleep, really had terrible taste in men, because if it was a husband and babies she wanted, what on earth was she doing here with him?
Lizzie woke to the sound of Leo’s phone buzzing and listened as he took a call from Ethan.
‘I can see them when I get into work …’ Leo yawned, his hand moving to Lizzie and stroking her bottom, their almost row forgotten, his mouth working the back of her shoulder as Ethan spoke on. ‘I don’t care if it’s the end of the working day in the Solomon Islands …’ He put his hand over her mouth to stifle Lizzie’s giggle. ‘Okay,’ Leo snapped. ‘I’ll take a look now.’ He let out a long sigh as he ended the call. ‘Ethan wants me to go over some details on a patient he thinks the clinic might be able to help.’
‘Is he coming over?’
‘I’m afraid so. My brother with a cause is like a …’
‘A what?’
‘I don’t know.’ Leo yawned. ‘I haven’t had a coffee yet.’
‘I’ll get us one.’ Lizzie would far prefer he got back to kissing her, but she could use a coffee too.
‘Actually …’ Leo’s voice was rarely tentative. ‘He’ll be here soon.’
‘Getting kicked out without so much as a coffee!’ Lizzie kept her voice light but there was an edge to it she couldn’t hide as she climbed out of bed.
‘You’ve said many times that you don’t want anyone at work knowing.’
‘I know.’
She didn’t want anyone at working knowing.
What was the point?
It would be over soon. It was bad enough trying to get over a guy like Leo, without the world watching, guessing your reaction, asking how you felt.
They were in this strange arena.
Caught somewhere between a fling and a relationship.
Only relationships Leo didn’t really do, except it was starting to feel a lot like one. Lizzie was staying at his place most nights and when they decided otherwise, when Lizzie had gone out with friends and come home to her apartment, Leo had caved at one a.m. and called her and ended up coming over to hers.
And as for a fling, yes, it might feel like that way to Leo, but her heart was saying otherwise.
Stupidly Lizzie was close to tears as she took her toothbrush from his cupboard and her deodorant and, after the quickest wash, pulled her dress on.
‘Lizzie …’
He was at the bathroom door, two coffees in hand as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and fiddled with it for something to do. She was wearing a tight black dress with a high neck. Last night she’d had a smoky grey top over it, but now he could see her bare arms and the slight shake of her hand as she pulled a couple of strands of hair out and tried to make herself look, to commuters’ eyes, as if she was going to work, rather than going home after a night not spent in her own bed.
‘I found this.’ He handed her a missing earring.
Yes, they were at the precipice and it had come far more rapidly than either had thought it might.
All or nothing and neither wanted to make that choice.
She put in her earring and then fiddled with her hair as he stood behind her in the mirror, his trousers on, his chest bare, though she did everything she could not to look. She would give anything rather than have him see her with tears in her eyes over them.
‘Have your coffee.’ He put a mug down beside the sink.
‘It’s fine,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll grab one on the way.’
‘Lizzie.’
Her teeth gritted but to prove she wasn’t upset she took a drink.
‘Would it be so terrible if Ethan found out?’ Leo asked.
‘I don’t think terrible is the word,’ Lizzie said. ‘More …’ she thought for a moment, ‘… awkward.’
‘I’m sure he’s not going to go shouting it to all the staff …’
Which was the whole damn point, Lizzie thought, and she turned to him. ‘Would it be so terrible if he did?’
‘No,’ Leo said carefully. ‘As you said, it might just make things a bit awkward.’
‘Why?’ Lizzie frowned. ‘Is it awkward when Abbie and Rafael are there?’
‘Of course not,’ Leo said. ‘They’re a team, they’re married …’ He closed his eyes, not sure where this row had come from, not sure he deserved the label of bad guy here. ‘I’m just thinking of you,’ Leo said. ‘You’re the head nurse and—’
‘It might not look so good that I’m shagging the boss?’
‘Lizzie.’
‘You’re right.’ Lizzie turned around. ‘It is better that I go before Ethan gets here—it would make things terribly awkward if he found out, so thanks for the coffee but, no, thanks.’ She brushed past him and sat on the sofa and pulled on her boots and then added the grey top and coat and scarf. ‘We should have done this in summer.’
‘Sorry?’
‘It’s not very easy to make a rapid exit in the middle of winter. I’ll be climbing down the fire escape at this rate,’ she said, picking up her bag.
‘I don’t know what’s going on here, Lizzie.’ As always, he got to the point. ‘I’ve said stay, I’ve said let Ethan know …’
‘I know.’ She breathed out loudly. This anger in her stomach just had to be released, she just wanted to get away from him.
‘Come over tonight,’ Leo said, and he did something he never had before. ‘I’m operating this afternoon.’ He took a key from the dresser in the hall. ‘Just …’ Those stupid tears were back as she watched him close her fingers around the metal. ‘Let yourself in.’
She wanted to argue, wanted to tell him she didn’t want his key, that it was killing her to get closer, that there was more and more she’d have to give back—the key, the suit he’d left at her flat, the cufflinks, the tie, and there were her favourite shoes under his bed. She couldn’t end it and leave them here. And there were a couple of movies she’d brought over …
