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‘But you stayed for five years.’
‘And I should probably have stayed for a good few more.’ He continued with the task in hand as he spoke, and though she couldn’t see or feel anything she knew what he was doing, heard the snip of the scissors as he cut the thread of her stitches, saw him shift slightly and then the trickle of antiseptic on the bit of her leg that wasn’t numb. ‘There—you need these out in five days, perhaps a week. You can go to your own GP for that or have one of the nurses here—’
‘Sure!’ Annie sat up just a touch too quickly, tiny stars dancing in front of her eyes. And then there was the pressure of his hand pushing her back down.
‘Rest here for a while. Have you had breakfast?’
‘There wasn’t exactly time!’
‘You should make time,’ he answered in a matter-of- fact voice. ‘You need a drink and something to eat before you drive home.’
‘I really could work. After this shift I’m off till Monday.’
‘Good!’ he said, snapping off his gloves. ‘I’ll see you on Monday. Or perhaps Saturday if... ’ She felt her heart stop as he turned around, a massive blush spreading on her face as for a second, for a teensy- weensy momentary flight of fancy, she dared to dream he was about to ask her out. ‘Jackie still wants me at the reception after this morning.’
‘Finished?’ Cheryl popped her head around the curtain and gave Annie a big smile. ‘You’ve got a visitor, Iosef. She says it’s personal.’
‘Candy?’ he asked, and Cheryl nodded.
‘Thanks. See that Annie has a drink and something to eat before she drives home. Perhaps we can arrange a taxi.’
‘I’m fine to drive,’ Annie insisted. Still, she did make her way to the canteen and, no matter the calories and a dress that didn’t fit, rummaged for change in her pocket. She did the sensible thing and ordered a large mug of hot chocolate and a round of toast and enjoyed the peace for a few minutes, waiting for the queasy feeling in her stomach to subside before slowly heading out to her car.
Though where she thought she was going without her bag and car keys was anyone’s guess.
Maybe she should get a taxi, Annie mused, limping back through the car park to the department to retrieve her bag from her locker.
Pale, but a little more together, she slipped into the staffroom, deciding to leave through the obs ward than go through the rigmarole of saying goodbye. She almost instantly wished that she hadn’t as she walked into the staffroom to find Iosef back by her locker and braving his second confrontation in less than an hour.
Shewas seriously beautiful.
It was the first thought that entered Annie’s head as she swung in and saw Iosef up to his neck in long limbs and fabulous red hair, the ravishing woman crying in his arms so reed thin, so exquisitely dressed that Annie had never felt more drab or fat as, blushing, she stumbled out an apology for disturbing them. Not that Iosef said anything to her—and the ravishing Candy gave her barely more than an irritated glance as she turned her attention back to a more deserving cause.
‘Please, don’t do this, Iosef,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s been so long. Tonight, please...’
‘I’m working tonight and late every night this week.’
‘The weekend, then.’ Candy begged as Iosef pulled her aside slightly, just enough to allow Annie access to her locker.
‘I have plans this weekend. Candy, I would really rather you stop coming here and disturbing my work.’
Bastard.
‘So tell me when, then,’ Candy sobbed as Annie’s burning face dived into her locker.
‘I’ll try to ring you tomorrow.’
‘Promise.’
‘I just said that I would try—I’m not going to promise you anything.’
An honest bastard, though, Annie allowed. As Candy flounced off she realized they were alone—realized that had she shot out of the door just a couple of seconds earlier she wouldn’t have had to face him till Monday when the embarrassment she was feeling now would be far less acute. She wouldn’t be standing here now, shuffling her feet and wondering whether she should say anything—acknowledge what she’d just overheard or just mumble goodbye and thank him for the stitches!
‘It’s really not turning out to be your day, is it?’ She settled for somewhere in between, and watched, quietly pleased as his crabby, angry face broke into a dry smile.
‘Given the run that I am having—you’ll probably slap my face for saying it—but every woman I’ve come in contact with today is either premenstrual or I really need to lift my game.’
She didn’t want him to make her laugh, didn’t want him to be able to do that to her again, but he did.
