Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse (13 page)

‘You’re not ditching me, are you?’ There was humour in his voice but also apprehension.

‘No, not at all. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘So why do I sense there’s a “but”
coming?’

‘There isn’t.’ I paused. ‘Well there is, kind of.’

‘And?’

I wasn’t quite sure how to say it, he might flip, spectacularly. But, after the conversation I’d just had it was a risk I had to take.

After taking a deep breath I blurted the words out. ‘Do you mind if we take a group of patients into town instead?’

‘What? Are you serious?’

‘Yes, but it’s not what you think. They’re nice lads and have had a really horrible time since their car nose-dived into ditch a couple of months ago.’ I hesitated, knowing Carl would think I’d lost the plot.

He said nothing and his silence confirmed my suspicions. He’d likely put the phone down in about five seconds time. I couldn’t help myself, though. My heartstrings had been tugged almost to snapping point by the boys’ pleas.

‘I’ve looked after them on several occasions,’ I went on, my words tumbling out, eager to explain before he gave up on me altogether. ‘They’re much better now, not ready for home or anything, but they’ve been given a pass for one night to celebrate Tim’s birthday. They just want a non-hospital meal and a couple of pints, nothing wild, not when they’re all in wheelchairs.’

There was a pause then, ‘Can’t their family or friends take them?’ He sounded more disbelieving than shocked and I hoped that was a good sign.

‘No, they’re from Essex, no visitors tomorrow. Besides, the pass is on the condition they’re accompanied by nurses.’

‘Well, surely orthopaedic nurses can do it.’

‘Apparently one is, but they need two.’ I sighed and shook my head. ‘They’ve just given me a long, convoluted story about how they’ve been asking everyone all day and I’m their last resort. If I don’t do it, it’s a no go.’

Carl sighed. ‘So it has to be you?’

‘And you too, we need an extra wheelchair pusher, plus we can still have a meal out together, a glass of wine and all of that. It will be fun, same thing, just more of us.’

‘But I’ve booked at table at The Thatcher, eight o’clock.’

Damn, I could hear the disappointment in his voice, but it didn’t match the despair in Nick, Tim and Johnny’s earlier, plus it was three against one. ‘Can we change the booking to next week?’ I asked.

‘I suppose.’ He sighed again. ‘If we’re not working.’

‘I’m off on the Saturday, even better.’

‘You really want to do this?’

I hesitated, because it was more than a want, it was a compulsion, a real calling to do the right thing. ‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘They deserve a treat and I can make it happen. Besides I think they’ll be hurling themselves out of the window otherwise.’

I could picture Carl sliding his finger and thumb beneath his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, the way he often did when faced with a problem.

‘In that case,’ he said, ‘and if it’s what you want to do, who am I to argue?’

A sweep of relief washed through me. ‘Thanks, Carl, you won’t regret it, and it’s still a date.’

‘No, no, it’s not a date, not by any stretch of the imagination, but …’ He paused. ‘I will still enjoy your company, even if I have to share you.’

‘Here we go,’ Carl said, setting down a tray holding four brimming pints and two glasses of Chardonnay.

‘Cheers, doc,’ Nick said, reaching for a beer. ‘This is the best medicine by far.’

‘Oh, I’ve been dreaming about this,’ Johnny said, holding a pint by his lips and inhaling the scent of the beer.

Rachael, the nurse from Bennett Ward, passed Tim his pint then reached for her wine.

‘Cheers,’ I said, holding my drink to the centre of the table. ‘Happy birthday, Tim.’

‘Happy birthday,’ everyone chorused.

‘Thanks,’ Tim said. ‘And here’s to a whole evening of hospital freedom. Bliss.’ He clinked his glass against Rachael’s and took a deep drink.

Carl looked at me, grinned then supped on his own pint.

I relaxed, finally. The trip from the hospital to town had been stressful using a minibus taxi, and then finding our way through a rapidly filling pub to a table we could slot three wheelchairs around hadn’t been easy.

It was a pub-slash-club. The music was loud, the lights dim. On the way through the guys were head-level with people’s bums and groins – not that it seemed to bother them. Most of the girls were dolled up to the nines. Skirts so short they were practically belts, and with the onset of the cooler months extra layers of fake tan had been applied, though in the shadows the streaky ankles and wrists weren’t too noticeable so they looked reasonably golden.

‘What’s this place called?’ Nick asked.

‘Heaven and Hell,’ I said.

‘Great name, and definitely Heaven for us tonight, it’s crackin’.’

‘So you like it?’ Carl asked.

‘Yeah, it’s cool. The music is OK, the beer cold and the talent isn’t bad at all.’ He flashed an approving smile at a girl wearing a skin-tight fluorescent blue dress. She grinned back, tossed her hair extensions over her shoulders and pulled a lip gloss from her purse.

‘Sharon tells me you’re all from Essex,’ Carl said. ‘Does that make this your first experience of Yorkshire lasses?’ He looked between them.

‘Yeah, never really been out of Essex, me.’ Nick’s attention was still on the bright beauty.

‘So how come you were on the A614 when you had the accident?’ Carl asked.

‘We all had a few weeks off and were just bumming around. So we came up with a vague plan to head to Newcastle, see what the nightlife was like there; then drive up to Edinburgh, you know, catch some comedy shows at the Festival maybe. Just as well we hadn’t booked loads of hostels or things to do, because it all came to a sudden halt when that knob landed his balloon on us.’

‘Did they offer to transfer you to a hospital in Essex?’ Carl asked.

‘Yeah, it was mentioned, but I had to go back to theatre twice for my pelvis and it made sense to stick with the same surgeon. Tim and Johnny could have gone but they opted to stay with me. Great blokes.’

‘The best,’ I said.

‘And then Tim got an infection and no other hospital was going to welcome him with open arms.’ He shrugged. ‘So that’s just how it’s been, our wonderful trip to Yorkshire to see the inside of a hospital for two months.’ He reached out his hand to Carl. ‘I know you put your date with Sharon on hold to come out with us tonight, so thanks, mate, we appreciate it.’

Carl took his hand and shook it. ‘No worries, just make the most of it, because I’m not cancelling that table for a second time.’ He looked at me and grinned. ‘Not for anything or anyone.’

I got a lovely warm feeling in my belly. Not just a I-wanna-rip-your-clothes-off feeling, but something more – like satisfaction without having been satisfied. It was a delicious sweetness to know that I was wanted for more than just bed action, but for my company and my conversation too. It wasn’t that I couldn’t have had a more meaningful relationship in the last few years with someone, I could have, but no one had caught my interest enough to want more. Michael had been the only one for so long and I couldn’t imagine replacing him.

But Carl …

He was getting to me. Something about him had penetrated my armour, made me think of a future with someone again. Perhaps it was because here he was on one of his precious nights off, helping me with this crazy plan. He had a good heart, and a gentle soul.

The music switched to a song I recognised from the charts. My feet twitched, my shoulders bobbed. ‘You want to dance?’ I shouted to Carl.

He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded. ‘Yes, OK.’

‘Stay here,’ I said to Nick in my sternest voice. ‘Do not go anywhere, any of you.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on these bad boys,’ Rachael said with a giggle then nudged Tim.

‘I haven’t even begun to get bad,’ Tim said with a decidedly wicked glint in his eyes.

Rachael giggled a bit more and reached for her wine. I wasn’t sure, but through the shadows I was sure a blush had risen on her cheeks.

‘Come on,’ Carl said, ‘I like this one.’ He led me through the throng of people towards the small, crowded dance floor, holding my hand tight and tugging me behind him.

Once there, he turned and began to dance with enthusiasm. I joined in, trying my best to control my rhythm amongst all the shoulders and hips bumping into me. There was barely room to move, the air was hot, the music vibrated from the floor to my feet, through my chest and into my head. But I wasn’t complaining. It was so good to be out, having fun.

Carl was a cool mover. I wasn’t surprised that a few admiring glances slid his way from the girls dancing around us. He definitely had that certain something and his squarish glasses and unshaven chin just added to the appeal.

Soon I was hot, my thin pink top warm against my skin and my hairline tingling with perspiration. I was just about to suggest we go and sit down when the music switched. A much slower beat that rumbled through the air and into my body. Like magnets, the dancers around us came together in pairs.

‘Don’t think you’re escaping, little lady,’ Carl said, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me close. ‘You’re the one that wanted to dance.’

‘And I still do,’ I said, slipping my hands over his shoulders and linking my fingers at his nape. Beneath his dark-blue shirt he was solid and a memory of us in the cupboard, kissing hungrily, came to my mind. I suppressed a tremor of longing and pulled in the fresh scent of his aftershave. Yep, I still wanted him as much as I had then, if not more. ‘Have you been here before?’ I asked.

‘No, I’ve not really been out since I arrived. Either working or too knackered.’

‘So how do you know about The Thatcher?’

‘My parents came up last month. We went for Sunday lunch there. It was really nice and I thought then you might like it.’

‘You thought that a month ago?’

He shrugged, appeared a little bashful. ‘Well, yeah, it took a bit of courage to ask you out.’

Damn, he was making me melt. ‘That’s so sweet.’

‘No, not sweet. I just wasn’t sure if you were single or not. I had to ask around.’

‘Oh, did you?’ Shit. I hoped to hell he hadn’t uncovered any of my wayward night-time antics. But I doubted it. I might enjoy a good, no-strings shag, but I was pretty careful and I knew full well my mortuary mate, Tom, wouldn’t have said anything. Not with a ten thousand pound wedding about to happen.

‘I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, and a girl like you …’ He stroked the back of his thumb down my cheek. ‘Funny, pretty, dedicated, intelligent, I was certain someone would have snapped you up for themselves.’

My cheek tingled where he’d touched me. ‘No, no snapping.’ Just a bit of naughty fun. ‘So what about you? Why no lady in your life?’

He put his hand around my waist again and I became aware of my breasts pressing into his chest. I liked the stretched, leanness of his body, there was something very masculine about it despite the fact he wasn’t distended with muscles.

‘There were some girls, at uni.’

‘Which medical school did you go to?’

‘Oxford.’

I gave a low whistle. ‘Impressive.’

‘It was what was expected of me.’

‘Who by?’

‘My parents. They’re both Oxford-bred consultants. As their only child, they expect me to achieve the same.’

‘That’s a pretty high star to hitch your wagon to.’

‘So far so good.’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and my attention was drawn to the soft plumpness of his mouth and the way the disco lights flashed across his stubbled chin. Damn kissable.

‘I bet they’re really proud.’

‘I hope so.’

‘So tell me about the girl, at Oxford.’

‘Girls, in the plural. I had several long-term relationships during my five years studying. All sweet, a few a bit too intense. None that I wanted to continue seeing on qualifying. So it’s been good to get away. I feel like I’ve finally grown up. The student thing was getting old at twenty-eight.’

I raised my eyebrows. Twenty-eight?

He shrugged. ‘I had a rather extended gap year, touring Australia with a couple of mates. It was too much fun to come home.’

‘Sounds great.’

‘It was. But eventually I had to get my head into the right place for medical school.’

‘Do you have any idea what specialty you want to end up in?’

‘Dad’s a urologist and Mum’s a gynaecologist. So I’m thinking surgery. This first rotation has been fun even if Javier spends most of his time checking out nurses’ backsides, but Mr Hartley, despite his spanking tendencies, has been really patient and a good teacher as I’ve got to grips with wielding a scalpel.’

‘Good, I’m glad.’ I paused. ‘That was shocking the other night. When Hartley and Emily were going for it in theatre. Who would have thought?’

He ran his hand up my back, slipped his fingers into my hair and lowered his head. ‘Yeah, they were behaving incredibly badly.’

‘Did it turn you on?’ I asked.

Our lips were so close, just a whisper away. His breath warmed my mouth and cheeks.

‘You know damn well it did. If I remember rightly you felt the evidence of that.’

I did remember, only too well. Carl had been having some serious space issues in his trousers. Shame he’d been so stubborn about letting me help him out with the problem.

I sighed and touched my lips to his, leaned into him. We fitted so well together, our mouths, or bodies.

Instantly he took control of the kiss. I shut my eyes. Became lost in the slightly malty flavour he was gently feeding me with his tongue. The lights penetrated my closed lids, the music boomed in my ears, but all my senses were focused on Carl. My skin tingled for his touch, my mouth craved more, and as he breathed out I breathed him in.

Yes, it had definitely been a very long time since I’d wanted anyone as much as I wanted Carl. I had a feeling that he’d be quite a dark horse when unleashed. If only he would just allow the stable door to be opened.

Eventually he broke the kiss. ‘We should go and check our charges,’ he said, pushing his glasses back into place. ‘Make sure they’re behaving.’