The Doctor Meets Her Match
Annie Claydon
Recent titles by Annie Claydon:
DOCTOR ON HER DOORSTEP
ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS
These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Dear Reader
I like a peaceful life. Although I’m prepared to argue for things I feel strongly about, I won’t go out to pick a fight with anyone. So in many ways it went against the grain to write about Nick and Abby, who don’t seem to agree on anything and have little hesitation in telling each other so.
As they battled their way through the pages, though, I grew to love them. Their passion. Their refusal to give up when many would have just shrugged and walked away. They’re both fighters and, although they can’t see it, that’s one of the many reasons they should be together.
Thank you for reading Nick and Abby’s story. I hope you enjoy it. I’m always delighted to hear from readers, and you can e-mail me via my website, which is at: www.annieclaydon.com
Annie
The Doctor
Meets Her Match
Annie Claydon
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Kath. For the past, the present and the future.
CHAPTER ONE
ABBY had five seconds to recover from the shock of seeing Nick again. Five heartbeats before his heavy eyelids fluttered open and he focussed on her. She could have done with ten at the very least.
The working clamour of the A and E department receded to the very edge of her consciousness. There was only Nick now, propped up on a trolley, one leg free of the cellular blanket that covered him, and his eyes dull with pain.
Somehow she got her legs to work and she took two steps forward into the cubicle and pulled the curtain shut behind her. Glancing at the A and E notes in the vain hope that somewhere there was another fireman with trauma to the knee who she was really supposed to be examining, she saw his name printed at the top. Nick Hunter. How on earth could she have missed that?
‘Abby?’
‘Nick.’ This was no good. She should be calm, in control, not red faced and staring at him as if she’d just seen a ghost. She wrenched her gaze from his dark, suede-soft eyes. ‘I’ve been called down from Orthopaedics to see you. I gather you’ve been waiting a while.’
‘They’re pretty busy with the guy I pulled out of that car. How is he? He didn’t look good…’
‘They’re working on him.’ Abby almost snapped at him, and she took a deep breath and started again. ‘I’ll see if I can find out for you. But first we need to get you sorted out.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’ He was watching her intently. Waiting for her next move.
What on earth was her next move? Nick wasn’t just a patient, he was a… what? Not a friend any more. He’d seen to that when he’d cut off all contact with her six months ago, not returning her calls and disappearing out of her life like a puff of smoke. He wasn’t a lover. He’d never been that, even if at one time Abby had wanted it, more than she now cared to admit.
He was a guy that she’d met at the swimming pool, got to know, along with the group he swam with, and then gone on a couple of casual dates with. That was all. Hardly a close personal relationship, although at the time it had felt a lot like it.
All the same, she had to put this onto a professional footing. Keep it there. ‘Right, then. A and E is very busy tonight and I’ve been called to see you as my speciality is orthopaedics…’ She licked her lips. He knew all that. ‘So, are you happy for me to examine you?’
He shrugged and Abby’s stomach twisted. She’d obviously made a lot more of this than it actually was. ‘Of course…’
‘Because I can get another doctor…’ Easier said than done at seven o’ clock on a Friday evening, when everyone else was either busy or had gone home, but she’d deal with that if she came to it. ‘We know each other, Nick. If you have any objection to me examining and treating you then you should say so now. It’s quite okay…’
‘I’d rather it was you, Abby.’ His gaze seemed to soften. ‘You’re better qualified than anyone here to treat a knee injury, and from the looks of it I’ll have to wait a while to see anyone else. I’m fine with it… as long as you are?’
He shot her a look that made her heart hurt. But she’d been down that road before and Abby wasn’t going to be seduced by his smile again. If he could get past what had happened, so should she. It had probably meant nothing to him anyway.
She concentrated on the facts. Act always in the patient’s best interests. Right now, it was clearly not in Nick’s best interests to wait another three hours for treatment, just because of what had gone on in her head six months ago. Nothing even remotely inappropriate had happened. She had to pull herself together and get on with her job. ‘So it’s just your knee, then. Nothing else?’
‘Just my knee. I think I’ve twisted it badly.’
‘How did it happen? You were underneath the car when you did it or did you fall?’
‘No, the frame of the car buckled as I was crawling back out from underneath it. Caught my knee here.’ He indicated an angry red haematoma.
‘Did you twist the leg at all?’ Keep it on this level. Details of his injury. His medical condition. They were a welcome barrier, standing between a woman and the man who had hurt her.
He grinned. ‘Probably. I was concentrating on moving as fast as I could at that point.’
Unwanted respect flared in Abby’s chest. Crawling into the tangled remains of a car to get someone out of the wreckage took a special kind of courage. ‘Okay, let me take a look at it. Tell me if I’m hurting you.’
Pulling a pair of surgical gloves from the dispenser, she gently probed the swelling around the knee, lifting it slightly to check the movement of the joint. His sharp intake of breath stopped her, and when she swung round she could see his fingers gripped tightly around the bars at the side of the bed.
‘I said tell me if it hurts, Nick. I’m not a mind reader.’
‘Right. Yeah, it hurts.’
‘And this?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay. What’s this scar, here? It looks as if you’ve had some surgery.’
‘I had an operation on the knee four years ago to repair torn cartilage.’
‘How did you do that?’
He managed to muster a grin and the temperature in the cubicle shot back up suddenly. ‘Put my foot through a floorboard in a burnt out building. I twisted the knee as I fell.’ Even here, even now, he was the best-looking man Abby had ever seen. Dark brown hair, cut short so that it spiked haphazardly when he ran his hand through it. A short, deep scar, running through his eyebrow, which was the one asymmetric feature of an otherwise stunningly handsome face.
‘I’ll see if I can find a record of that on our system. The operation was done here?’
He nodded, his lips quirking downwards then pressing together in a thin line.
‘Right, then.’ She scanned the notes quickly. ‘It says here that you were offered pain control in the ambulance and you turned it down. Would you like something now?’
‘No. I’m fine, thanks.’
He didn’t need to pretend he wasn’t in pain. She was a doctor, not a woman he needed to impress. ‘On a scale of one to ten…’
‘About one and a quarter.’ He didn’t even let her finish.
‘Really?’ She raised an eyebrow to make it clear that she didn’t believe him for a minute, and he ignored her. Abby had seen that kind of flat-out denial before but it was puzzling coming from Nick. She’d get back to that one later.
‘Okay, let me know if you change your mind and I can give you something that will make you much more comfortable.’ He nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘I’m going to send you for some X-rays, and I’ll come back and see you again when I’ve reviewed them.’ That would give Abby at least half an hour to gather her wits. Maybe more. Perhaps the next time she laid eyes on him, she’d be able to retain her composure a little better.
‘Thanks.’ He hesitated, as if something was bothering him. ‘I hope I’m not keeping you from going home. It must be gone seven o’clock.’
Twenty past. The charge nurse from A and E had called her just as she’d finished catching up on the week’s paperwork and had been about to leave. ‘Not a problem. That’s what I’m here for.’ It seemed that finally, despite all Abby’s promises to herself, she was going to be spending one more evening in Nick’s company.
By the time Nick’s X-rays were back, Abby had already found his notes on the computer and read them. And it gave her no pleasure whatsoever to find he was wrong. She took a deep breath before she made her way back to his bedside to deliver the bad news.
‘Hey, there.’ His smile was too broad. Slightly brittle.
‘How are you doing?’
‘Thought you might be able to tell me.’ He nodded at the large manila folder she carried.
‘Yeah.’ Abby sat down by his bedside. Whatever she felt about his behaviour towards her, she had to give him credit for his resilience. She knew how much pain he must be in, and it was searing through her. That trick of being able to insulate yourself from a patient’s pain didn’t seem to be working so well for her at the moment.
‘What’s the verdict, then?’
‘The X-rays show a hairline crack on your patella.’
He stared at her as if he didn’t understand, or perhaps he just wasn’t taking her word for it. Abby drew one of the X-rays out of the folder, holding it up to the strip light above his head. ‘Here, can you see?’
He shifted closer to her to look, and reached up, steadying her hand with his. His touch was still electric. The soft brush of his fingers against her wrist made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Right there.’ She indicated the line of the fracture, trying to ignore the fact that she was leaning over him. That she would be able to hear his heartbeat if she got any closer. ‘The good news is that it’s not displaced, so it should heal relatively quickly.’
‘I see.’ He squinted at the area she had indicated. ‘It doesn’t look too bad, then?’
Abby bit her tongue. Asking him whether that statement was based on medical knowledge or wishful thinking probably wasn’t appropriate. Neither was enjoying leaning over him. At the swimming pool it had been pretty much impossible not to notice Nick’s beautiful physique. Here it was irrelevant.
She straightened quickly. ‘Well, a fractured patella is never good. But it could have been a lot worse. From the looks of your knee there may well be some other damage, though, and I’m ordering an MRI scan to see what’s happening with the cartilage and to get a better view of the fracture.’
‘But if that’s okay…?’ He sat up straight on the trolley, as if their business was now finished and he could go. Abby fixed him with the sternest glare she could muster. This was her territory and she was in charge.
‘There’s still the matter of the crack on your patella. You’re going to need to rest it and wear a brace for four to six weeks.’
He ran his hand back through his hair in a gesture of frustration. ‘Four weeks?’
‘Four to six weeks. That’s pretty much how long a bone takes to mend.’ Abby bit her lip. Enough sarcasm. He was in pain here, and she knew how much Nick loved his job. The least she could do was show him a bit of understanding. ‘I’m sorry, but you won’t be fit enough to go back to work for a while.’
‘How long?’
‘I can’t tell for sure at this point. I’m going to refer you on for an early appointment with a colleague who specialises in injuries of this kind. By the time you see him, we should have managed to get some of this swelling down and the MRI results will be available. He’ll be able to tell you much more.’
‘Yes. Of course.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Thanks for everything, Abby. Can I go now?’
He really didn’t want to be around her. She could tell from the way he was focussing past her, on something just over her right shoulder. He’d do anything but look her in the eye.
That was fine. Abby didn’t much want to be around Nick either but that wasn’t the point of this particular exercise. She was a doctor and he was a patient. If she reminded herself of that enough times, she’d get it in the end. ‘Not yet. I need to sort out a suitable knee brace for you, along with some painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs.’ She fixed him with a stern look. ‘Stay there, I’ll be back shortly.’
Abby didn’t wait for his answer. Making for the curtain, which covered the entrance to the cubicle, she yanked it firmly closed and caught the charge nurse’s eye. If he attempted to run out on her this time, he’d find that the A and E staff were more than a match for him.
Abby was in a class all of her own when she did stern. Nick tried not to think about that, and concentrated on all the reasons why continuing their relationship had been a seriously bad idea. Why he’d been right to walk away before the shimmer in her light blue eyes, the little quirk of her mouth when she’d smiled, had pulled him spiralling out of control. Even now it was tough work to resist her.
Not that she was doing a great deal of smiling this evening. She didn’t seem to be having much trouble with resisting him either. She’d drawn back so quickly when he’d touched her that he’d wondered whether an apology was in order. Common sense was yet another thing he had to award her ten out of ten for.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position and swung his good leg over the edge of the trolley. So far so good. Kind of. He gripped his injured leg and tried to move it and pain seared from his calf to his thigh. Not such a good idea. Nick reached for his jacket, which was over the back of the chair where his clothes were folded, managing to pull his phone from the pocket with the tips of his fingers.
When he switched it on, there were two missed calls, and a text. Off duty in ten. Be there in half an hour. Nick looked at his watch. Sam would be arriving in fifteen minutes and, with any luck, by that time Nick would be dressed and ready to go.
‘It’ll be a lot easier with this. And you’re supposed to keep that switched off.’
Nick’s gaze jerked upwards from the small screen on his phone and found Abby’s half-amused grimace. ‘What will?’
‘Your escape.’ She shrugged, walking to his bedside and propping the pair of elbow crutches she carried against the chair. ‘Swing your leg back onto the bed while I sort this knee brace out.’
She fiddled for a while with the ugly-looking contraption, rolling her eyes and grinning when the Velcro straps tangled themselves together and stuck fast. Nick added kindness to the list of her virtues. Even though he’d treated her badly, there was no trace of reproach in her attitude towards him.
‘Just relax and let me move your leg. I’ll try not to hurt you too much.’ She gently took hold of his leg and Nick braced himself for the pain, letting out an involuntary breath when it wasn’t half as bad as when he’d tried to move it himself.
‘There.’ She carefully fastened the brace and stood back, reviewing her handiwork. ‘How does that feel?’
‘Better. Thanks, it feels much better with the support.’ Nick had been concentrating on the gentle warmth of her fingers, the way her corn-coloured plait of hair threatened to slip forward over her shoulder when she bent forward. Her scent, which seemed to be more than just the astringent, soapy smell of the other doctors and nurses here. They were far more potent than the drugs he’d refused.
‘Good. I’ve set it at an angle to keep your knee bent, and you should leave it like that until you see my colleague. Don’t put any weight on the leg for the time being, and it’ll help if you use cushions to support it when you’re sitting or lying down.’ She paused, seemingly deep in thought. ‘Let’s see if we can’t get you back onto your feet.’
At last! Nick sat up and she helped him swing his leg over the side of the trolley. ‘Lean on my shoulder if you need to.’
He couldn’t think of anything more comforting at that moment than to take advantage of her offer. ‘Thanks, but I’m okay.’ Levering himself upwards with his arms, he put one foot to the floor and stood up slowly.
‘Good. That’s good.’ She reached for the crutches, extending one to almost its full height, and gave it to him. ‘Yes, that looks about right.’ She adjusted the other and suddenly Nick was free. Able to move around again.
‘Walk up and down a bit.’ She watched carefully as he took a few tentative steps, leaning on the crutches, and nodded in approval. ‘That looks fine. Is it comfortable?’
‘Yes. The brace is a little tight.’
‘It needs to be. As the swelling goes down, you should tighten it a little so it feels snug. Without cutting off the circulation to your foot, that is.’ A sudden grin, which was quashed almost immediately, made Nick’s head swim slightly. His own body was producing powerful endorphins in response to that lopsided, shining smile of hers, and he could do nothing to stop it.
‘Thanks. Can I get dressed now?’
The words had an almost instant effect on her. She backed away. ‘Do you need someone to help you? I can send someone in.’
‘I’m fine.’ Nick grinned to himself as she disappeared out of the cubicle. Maybe he should have thought of that one sooner.
The A and E nurse had cut the leg of his trousers to get them off and it was easy enough to slip them back on again. Discarding the flimsy hospital gown and pulling on his shirt, Nick struggled with getting his sock onto his injured leg and decided to carry his boot. A quick phone call elicited the information that Sam was outside, trying to find a parking space.
‘Right.’ The curtain had twitched slightly, indicating that she’d checked first to make sure he was dressed, before she breezed back into his cubicle. ‘I’ve got a leaflet here, to give you some guidelines on how to manage the leg.’ She proffered a printed sheet and Nick took it. Next to one of the items she had drawn a star and written a few notes. Even her handwriting was bewitching. Nick wondered briefly whether it was possible to be seduced by someone’s handwriting, before folding the sheet and putting it into his jacket pocket.
‘Thanks. I appreciate all you’ve done, Abby.’ It was time for him to leave. Before she got around to the prescription she held in her hand. Before he got too used to the light that seemed to shine from her and gravitated towards it, like a moth whose wings had already been burned by the flame.
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ She was quicker than he was at the moment, and blocked his path. ‘Sit down for a moment. I’ve had a colleague write you a prescription for something to control your pain.’
She was keeping him well and truly at arm’s length. Somehow the fact that she’d got someone else to write the prescription rankled more than anything. As if she was trying to wipe him from every corner of her life. Nick wondered if she’d been hurt as badly as he had by what had happened between them.
‘I don’t need it.’ The words sounded harsh and ungrateful. ‘Thanks, Abby, but I don’t want it. Sam’ll be here to pick me up any minute.’
‘Sam!’ She jumped like a startled fawn, flushing slightly. She did remember, then. The leisurely Sunday morning breakfasts after training when Sam and the half-dozen others at the table had faded into blurred insignificance, and there had only been Nick and Abby. The reckless slide into dinner and the cinema. He’d fallen for her hard and fast, before sanity had taken hold and convinced him to draw back.
She pulled herself together with impressive speed. ‘He’ll have to wait, then, we’re not finished yet. You should have something to control the pain and bring the inflammation down. I really can’t recommend that you be discharged without it…’
‘Then I’ll discharge myself.’
The conversation had finally degenerated into a game of chicken. Whose nerve was going to break first. In the end, no one broke. Sam’s light touch on Abby’s shoulder made her jump again and she whirled round to face him.
‘Abby. Where have you been? Long time no see…’ Nick directed his most ferocious glare in Sam’s direction and Sam got the message. ‘So how’s he doing, then?’
She pursed her lips as if she was considering the question and Nick broke in. ‘We’re done here.’
‘Really?’ Sam gave Abby a quizzical look and she frowned.
‘No. Not really. Nick…’
In between him and Sam, she suddenly looked small. Vulnerable. Staring up at them with what looked like frightened defiance in her eyes. The urge to protect her leaked into Nick’s aching bones, almost before he realised that the only thing Abby needed protecting from was him.
He slid past her, brushing against her as he went. ‘I’m sorry.’ He was sorry for everything. The way he’d left her without a word of explanation six months ago. How he was leaving things between them now. But if she knew his reasons she’d be the first to want him gone. ‘Thanks for all you’ve done.’
The words stuck in his throat because he knew they weren’t enough. But they were all he could give her and he lunged forward on his crutches. He heard her exclamation of frustration behind him and Nick made for the exit doors without looking back.
CHAPTER TWO
SAM had given her a grinning shrug and followed Nick, jogging to catch up with him. Abby didn’t stop to watch them go. She did what she had schooled herself to do as a teenager and which now came as second nature to her. If someone hurts you, don’t go running after them. Turn away. Be strong.
‘How did that go?’ She was concentrating hard on Not Caring and the voice at her elbow made her jump.
‘Michael. I didn’t see you there.’
‘Penny for them?’ Michael Gibson, the A and E doctor who would have seen Nick had he not been with a more urgent patient, was standing beside her.
‘Not worth it.’ She held the prescription form up for Michael to see. ‘He didn’t take it.’
‘No? Why not?’
‘I don’t know. He just said that he didn’t need it. Stayed long enough for an X-ray and for me to give him a diagnosis and then as soon as I let him get his hands on a pair of crutches he was off. I couldn’t stop him.’
‘What were you thinking of doing? Handcuffing him to the bed?’
Don’t say things like that, Michael. You’ll give a girlideas. ‘I… I just can’t help thinking that he would have taken it from someone else.’
Michael sighed. ‘Look, Abs. You asked him if he was okay with you treating him, you ran everything past me. Aren’t you overthinking this a bit? People make decisions about what level of treatment they’re going to take from us all the time.’
‘I guess so.’ Abby wasn’t convinced. She wouldn’t lay the blame on Nick when she should be shouldering it herself. His decision must have been something to do with her.
Michael looked at his watch. ‘Can you do me a favour and write up the notes, then sort out a referral?’
‘Of course. You get on. I’ll put him on the list for an early MRI scan and get him an appointment up in Orthopaedics.’ Abby grinned. ‘With someone else, who might be able to talk some sense into him.’
‘Don’t sweat it so much, Abby.’ The charge nurse had caught Michael’s eye and he was already turning to see his next patient for the evening. ‘All we can do is our best.’
She’d spent half the night considering that rationally, and the other half beating her head against an imaginary brick wall, which might just as well have been real from the way her head was throbbing this morning. The only thing that Abby was sure of was that she’d messed up somehow and that she had to put it right.
Something had made him act that way. He was perfectly at liberty to walk out on her as a woman and she was at liberty to hate him for it. But if a little of the past had leaked through into her attitude towards Nick last night and made him refuse medical treatment he needed, that was unforgivable. Whatever Michael had said, she had to put it right.
Not giving herself time to change her mind, Abby got out of the car, marched quickly up the front path and pressed the doorbell. No one answered. She was about to turn and walk away when a bump from inside the house told her that Nick hadn’t gone out. She thumbed the doorbell again, this time letting it ring insistently.
‘Okay! Give me a minute…’ The door was flung open and Nick froze.
‘Hello.’ She was expecting to see him this time, but that didn’t seem to lessen the shock all that much.
‘Hi… Abby.’ He had the presence of mind not to say it, but his eyes demanded an answer. What are you doing here?
‘I came to see how you were.’ Her hands were shaking but her lips were smiling. Not too much. Professional.
‘You didn’t need to. I’m fine. Thanks.’ Nick was leaning on the crutches she’d given him, his loose sweatpants stretched over the bulky brace. That was something. At least he hadn’t taken it off and thrown it away as soon as he’d got home.
‘I think we have a little unfinished business, Nick.’
He pressed his lips together. ‘I know. I should have called you, it was unforgivable…’
‘Not that.’ Abby had spent some time convincing herself that the events of six months ago were all water under the bridge, and she wasn’t going to let Nick bring it up now. ‘I mean from last night. You left before I had a chance to finish…’ She stopped, flushing. Her voice sounded like a pathetic, childish whine, as if she was begging for his attention.
Understanding flickered in his eyes. His warmth curled around her senses and just as Abby’s knees began to liquefy her defences clicked in. This man was not going to see her vulnerable. Not again.
‘I left because I was done. It was nothing to do with you.’
Abby straightened herself. ‘What was it to do with?’
‘It’s none of your business, Abby…’ He seemed to be about to say more but stopped himself. ‘Look, as I said, it’s really good of you to come here and I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. But you’ll have to excuse me.’
She wasn’t giving up without a fight. The door was closing, and there were only two things that Abby could think of to do. She wasn’t quite angry enough to punch him—not yet, anyway—so she stuck her foot in the doorway, bracing herself for the blow of the door as he tried to close it.
It didn’t come. There was nothing wrong with Nick’s reflexes and he whipped the door back open before it hit her foot. ‘Abby…’ His gaze met hers, dark and full of pain, and concern for him grated across her nerve endings. There was no point in that. Nick wasn’t the type to accept sympathy. She faced him down, and saw a flare of what might have been tenderness.
Wordlessly he stepped back from the doorway, turned, and made his way back along the hall, leaving the door open behind him. It wasn’t the most cordial of invitations she’d ever received but Abby followed him, closing the door behind her.
‘Can I get you some coffee?’ He had led her through to the kitchen, a large, bright room where the house had been extended at the back. Indicating that she should sit down at the sturdy wooden table, he swung across to the counter and reached up into a cupboard for a tin of coffee beans.
‘Thanks.’ Abby sat down. Making coffee and drinking it would take at least ten minutes. She could use that time.
‘Toast?’ The room smelled of fresh bread and there was a loaf, just out of the breadmaker, on the countertop.
‘Thanks. I didn’t have breakfast this morning.’ Fifteen minutes. Even better. Time enough to sort this out and then get out of there.
Nick didn’t turn to face her and Abby sat down. Without a word, he ground the coffee beans and switched the coffee machine on, then shifted awkwardly across to cut the bread, leaning one of his crutches against the sink.
‘Here, let me help you.’
‘I can manage.’
She dropped back down into her chair. He seemed to be managing not to look at her as well. It occurred to Abby that the offer of coffee hadn’t been intended as hospitality as much as an excuse not to sit down and talk to her.
Finally he was done. He’d made tea for himself, and Abby jumped up to ferry the cups and plates to the table, while Nick lowered himself into a chair.
‘We don’t need to argue about this.’ He gave her a persuasive grin. ‘We could just agree to differ and enjoy our breakfast.’
Nick’s charm didn’t work on her any more. Much. ‘Or we could talk about why I think it’s important that you take the medication you’ve been offered. I’m here to help you. As a friend, Nick.’ ‘Friends’ was dangerous territory. But being his doctor was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, and that was the only other excuse she had to be there.
His lips twitched. ‘And you think that I’m not helping myself?’
‘From where I’m sitting, that’s how it looks.’ Abby took a sip of her coffee.
‘I guess it might.’ The words were almost a challenge.
‘It does, Nick. Pain control isn’t just about making things easier for you. With an injury like this, it’s important that you give your body a chance to heal. That means being able to sleep and move around gently. You need to get some of that swelling around your knee down as well.’
‘I’ve been putting ice packs on it. The swelling’s down from yesterday.’
‘That’s better than nothing. How much sleep did you get last night?’
Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The dark hollows beneath his eyes and the stiffness of his movements attested to how little he’d slept and how much he was hurting right now. Abby could strike the suspicion of him having decided to self-medicate from the list of possibilities.
‘Did you take analgesics the last time you hurt your knee?’ Abby could have looked that up on the hospital’s computer system after he’d left, but she’d baulked at that.
He nodded. Another couple of options to strike off the list. Whatever his reason was, it must be something that had happened in the four years, since his last injury. ‘Are you saying you had an adverse reaction to one of the drugs?’
‘No. I’m saying that I don’t want the drugs now.’
‘Nick, if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is, that’s fine. But you wouldn’t let me do my best for you last night, and I can tell you now that’s not the way that I work and it’s not the way the doctor I’ve referred you to works either.’ Abby could feel the colour rising in her cheeks, and checked herself.
Something bloomed in his eyes, which looked suspiciously like respect, and Abby ignored the answering quiver in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t need Nick’s respect, she just needed him to see the logic of what she was trying to tell him.
‘Since you put it that way…’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment and then jerked his head up to face her, his stare daring her to look away. ‘I’m a drug addict.’
His message was clear. Get back. Stay back. Nick knew that Abby was not stupid. She had to understand it and the only other explanation was that she was planning on ignoring it.
‘Okay. What kind of drugs?’ She was doing a fairly good job of staring him down. There was barely a flicker at the corner of her eye.
‘Painkillers. The kind that were prescribed for me. And others that weren’t.’
‘But you’re clean now.’
‘What makes you think that?’ He’d never be truly clean.
‘If you were still taking opiate drugs, for whatever purpose, maybe you would have slept a little better last night.’
‘Yeah. Fair enough.’ It would take more than just staying off the drugs to make him whole, but Nick was done with admitting things. That was all she needed to know. He reached for his keys, which were sitting at the far end of the table where he’d dumped them last night, and showed her the small engraved disc that served as a key fob.
She leaned forward to focus on the letters, alongside a logo with a set of initials. ‘IK. What’s that?’
‘Stands for one thousand days. In that time I haven’t had as much as an aspirin or a cup of coffee.’ Her gaze flicked involuntarily towards the cup of herbal tea in front of him, and Nick wondered how much of this she had already worked out for herself. ‘I earned this six months ago, and I’m not giving it up for anything.’
‘Your support group asks that you give up everything? Aspirin, coffee…?’
‘No. That’s what I require of myself.’
She sucked in a deep breath, seeming to relax slightly as she exhaled. ‘I’d like to help, Nick. If you’ll let me.’
She’d disarmed him completely. Maybe it was the way that sunlight from the window became entangled in her hair and couldn’t break free. Maybe her steady, blue gaze, which held the promise of both cornflowers and steel. ‘What do you suggest?’
Nick was expecting one, maybe two platitudes about not overstepping the mark again and a lecture on how effective ice-packs could be. Then she could do the sensible thing and wash her hands of him.
Instead, she drew a pad from her handbag, turned to a page of scribbled notes, asked questions and made some more notes. Then she produced a bundle of printed pages from the internet, selecting some for him to look at, which left Nick in little doubt that she had come prepared for almost every eventuality, including the one which he had just admitted to. He hadn’t thought that Abby was such a force to be reckoned with.
‘What do you think, then?’
Nick had no idea what he thought. He’d heard everything she’d said, but the bulk of his attention had been concentrated on the soft curl of her eyelashes. On trying to resist the impulse to reach out and touch the few golden strands of hair that strayed across her cheek, aware that he could so easily become trapped. ‘Sounds logical.’
She rolled her eyes, twisting her head to one side in a shimmer of liquid light, and he almost choked on his tea. ‘It’s obviously logical. But how do you feel about it?’
‘Okay, then.’ There wasn’t much option other than the truth, not with Abby. ‘I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.’
‘Fair enough, but can you do it?’
‘Stick pins in my eyes? I’d rather not.’
She gifted him with a glare that made his stomach tighten. ‘Stop messing around, Nick. Will you do this?’ She tapped the list she’d made with her pen.
A visit to a pain clinic, specialising in drug-free therapies, which Abby had assured him was among the best in its field. Taking the clinic’s advice on nonopiate painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs. Coming clean with the orthopaedic surgeon that Abby had already arranged for Nick to see at the hospital, and having him work with the clinic to provide what she termed as ‘joined-up’ care.
‘I can do it.’ This would be harder than dealing with the constant, throbbing pain in his knee but Nick saw the sense in it. It was his best chance of being able to get back on his feet again any time soon.
‘So I’ll call the pain clinic and try to get you an emergency appointment for this afternoon.’
‘I’m not a child. I can make a phone call.’ The thought that maybe she didn’t trust him hurt more than it should have. What reason had he ever given her to trust him?
‘I know. But this is supposed to be the exact opposite of what you did before. You take help. You don’t self-medicate. You follow an agreed plan and you keep everyone informed and in touch with what’s happening.’
She grinned persuasively at him. He’d missed her smile. ‘If something was on fire, I’d be letting you take charge.’
‘I have a box of matches in the drawer over there…’ He held his hands up as she shot him a look of such ferocity that laughter bubbled up in his chest. Abby had surprised him. Under those soft curves of hers there was a backbone of pure steel. ‘Okay. You win, it’s a deal.’
‘Yes… yes, a deal.’ She was suddenly uncertain, lacing her fingers around her empty coffee cup. It seemed that she too needed something to occupy her when they were together. Something to take her mind off the heat that seemed to build when there was nothing practical to focus on.
‘Would you like some more toast? That slice must be cold by now.’
‘No. No, thanks.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Sorry to have spoiled your morning.’
‘You didn’t.’ He tried to catch her eye but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze now. ‘I treated you pretty badly, Abby. What you did this morning says everything about you and nothing about what I deserve.’
She seemed puzzled, but the comment emboldened her. ‘I’d like you to do something else, too.’
‘Go on, then. What is it?’
‘I want you to call me in a couple of days, just to let me know how things are going. Will you do that?’
‘Of course.’ It was the least he could do. ‘Or I could buy you lunch.’ The words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them. But it didn’t really matter. They’d be wearing snowboots in hell before she accepted. Doctors might forgive, but women didn’t give you the option of standing them up a second time.
She hesitated, avoiding his gaze. ‘Call me on Tuesday morning. I take my lunch at one o’clock, and if I’m free maybe we can meet up.’ She picked her phone up, briskly. ‘I’ll make that call, then.’
CHAPTER THREE
HE’D hurt her once, and she hadn’t had any say in the matter then. If he hurt her again, it was going to be her own stupid fault. But this time Abby knew the score. She wasn’t at his beck and call and she wouldn’t be shedding any tears over him if he decided suddenly to disappear again.
It was ten minutes’ walk from the hospital to the gym they both belonged to. Abby had been taking her early-morning swims at another pool for the last six months, ever since the possibility of bumping into Nick had turned from delicious excitement to self-conscious dread. But since she hadn’t let her membership lapse, for fear that might be construed as running away, she could always go for a swim if he didn’t turn up.
The screens and plants in the cafeteria had been designed to break up the area and give a little privacy for each table. Abby scanned the space. All of a sudden she didn’t want to have to walk around and then be subjected to the ignominy of sitting down alone if he wasn’t there.
‘Hey, there.’ His voice cut through her thoughts, like a hot knife through butter. ‘Thanks for coming.’
She had been feeling shaky all morning, agitated at the thought of seeing Nick again, and now she was concentrating so hard on not being nervous that she’d walked straight past him. He was perched on one of the stools at the juice bar, one leg propped up on the stainless-steel rail that ran around it at low level, the other foot planted firmly on the floor.
‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ She pulled herself up onto a stool, crossing her legs so her feet didn’t dangle like a child’s and putting her handbag on the empty seat she had left between Nick and herself. ‘What have you got there?’
‘Raspberry and apple. It’s nice, want to try it?’ He tilted his glass towards her.
‘No, thanks. I’ll have the strawberry and banana shake. And one of those toasted sandwiches, I think.’ She signalled to the waitress behind the bar and gave her order, looking in her handbag for her purse. Too late. Nick had already passed a note across the bar and the waitress had taken it.
‘Thanks.’ Arguing with him over who was going to pay made his gesture seem more important than it was. Better to leave it. ‘So how are you?’
‘I’m good. I’ve got my appointment through.’
‘Good. Dr Patel’s a nice guy, and the best orthopaedic surgeon in the department. You’ll be fine with him.’ Jay would take care of Nick better than Abby could. Better than she had any right to.
‘Thanks.’ He took his change and pocketed it then felt inside his casual jacket, pulling out two foil packets and proffering them. ‘And I’ve been keeping my side of the bargain.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll take your word for it.’ She smiled at him. ‘Anyway, you could have just taken the tablets out and thrown them in the bin.’
He seemed to be considering the possibility. ‘I could have. Only I would have flushed them down the sink. Always dispose of medicines safely.’
He was teasing her now and Abby felt the coiled spring that had lodged in her stomach begin to loosen slightly. The feeling wasn’t altogether agreeable. ‘Well, as long as you’re doing something to get the swelling down.’
He nodded. ‘The ice packs are helping and the people at the pain clinic gave me some good tips. I can’t put any weight on the leg still, but I can get around well enough. I might try going for a swim this afternoon.’
Unwelcome images flooded Abby’s brain. Nick in the pool, water streaming across his back as he swam. Pulling himself out, the muscles of his shoulders flexing. She concentrated on his knee. ‘That’s not a very good idea, Nick.’
‘Swimming’s good exercise. The water will support my leg.’
‘Dr Patel will give you some exercises and he’ll be able to discuss exactly what you should and shouldn’t be doing. Why don’t you leave it until you see him?’ She could feel her irritation level rising again. What was so important about going swimming today?
‘I can’t.’ He dismissed her with just two words and something snapped in that part of her brain that had been filtering the anger out of her responses to him.
‘Yes, you can. You just won’t.’ Abby jumped as a plate and glass clattered down next to her, and turned to thank the waitress, who gave her a curt nod, obviously disapproving of the sound of discord at the bar. ‘Let’s go and sit at one of the tables. Look, there’s one free over there by the window.’
‘Perfect for bullying me in private.’ Nick grinned.
‘I do not bully people.’ If he only knew, he wouldn’t say such a thing. She slid down from her stool, balanced her plate and glass in one hand, grabbed her handbag with the other and walked over to the empty table. He could follow if he liked.
As she tried to manoeuvre her way into a seat, her hands full, she saw Nick’s arm reach around her, pulling the chair back so she could sink down into it. Lowering himself into the chair opposite, he smiled up at the waitress as she placed his drink in front of him. ‘Thanks. That’s kind of you.’
The waitress nodded and shot Abby a disapproving look. As well she might. Nick was handsome, charming and, oh, so obviously in need of a little looking after at the moment. Someone to carry his drink while he dealt with his crutches. Someone to plump his pillows and stare into his molten chocolate eyes.
‘If I sound as if I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, Abby, that’s not the case.’ Nick had smiled and thanked the waitress, but now his attention was all on Abby.
‘But you’re just used to having things your own way.’
He grinned. ‘Maybe. But I value your input.’
He made it sound as if she’d made a few suggestions, which he’d decided whether to go along with or not. Abby guessed that was about right. ‘So, are you up for another piece of input?’
‘Go on.’
She ignored both the smile and the dimple. Particularly the dimple. ‘I think you’re just falling into the same way of doing things as before. Deciding what you’re going to do and then just going and doing it. I think you should wait until you can speak to your doctor and get his advice.’
‘What do you think Dr Patel is going to say, then?’
‘I don’t second-guess colleagues. Just ask him.’
‘I do have a compelling reason to get back into the water.’
Abby gave in. ‘All right, so what’s your compelling reason? Other than the desire to prove to yourself that you’re indestructible or die trying?’
The brief tilt of his head to one side told her that she’d hit on a home truth. ‘A group of us from the fire station is doing an open-water swim in five weeks’ time, up in the Lake District. Actually, six of them on consecutive days. I need to be fit for that.’
The audacity of the statement made Abby choke on her drink. ‘Six consecutive days? How long are these swims?’
‘Between two and six miles each.’
‘What? Are you completely mad, Nick? I’m all for encouraging people to exercise gently, but that’s gruelling enough for anyone who’s fit. It’s complete and utter madness with that knee.’
He shrugged. ‘I have to try. I’ll see what Dr Patel says, but perhaps I can strap the leg up so that it’s supported in the water.’
‘No. He’s going to tell you exactly what I am. You’re overdoing it, and asking for trouble.’ Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘I thought you didn’t second-guess colleagues.’ His gaze was making her skin prickle.
‘I don’t, but I’m perfectly capable of seeing the obvious. What’s so important about these swims anyway? Can’t you postpone them or something? I know it’s late in the year, but next spring would be much more sensible.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s a big charity event. There are a dozen of us swimming and we have sponsorship.’
‘Well, you’ll just have to drop out, then.’
He gave her an amused look. ‘Are you telling me what to do?’
‘I’m telling you that in my considered opinion, and I do know something about this, you’ll do yourself a great deal of damage if you push yourself too hard. You’ll fail with the swims and you might well put yourself into a position where you’ll never get fit again. Do you want that?’
He shook his head slowly, his gaze dropping to the tabletop. ‘No. But I feel I have to try. I won’t push it.’
Yeah, right. Since when did Nick start anything that he didn’t finish? Abby swallowed the obvious answer. Their relationship was clearly an exception to that rule. ‘How much sponsorship do you have?’
‘It’s a hundred grand in total. I’m the only one doing all six swims and so a lot of the corporate sponsorship that we’ve raised depends on me. If I don’t swim, we lose thirty of that.’ His brow furrowed in thought. ‘Maybe the sponsors will allow me to do the swims over twelve days instead of six. A day’s rest in between.’
‘Oh, right, that’ll be okay, then. You can spend twelve days on wrecking your knee instead of six.’ Concern lent a biting edge to Abby’s sarcasm. She buried her face in her hands so he couldn’t see her confusion. She wasn’t usually this aggressive with people, but Nick was pushing all the wrong buttons with her.
His voice cut through her thoughts and she lifted her head wearily. ‘It’s a good cause, Abby. Maybe, when Dr Patel gives my leg the once-over, it will have improved—it already feels a lot better. I don’t know right now, but surely anything is worth trying?’
The look in his eyes said it all. He knew just as well as she did that this was madness but he’d made a commitment and it was killing him not to carry it through. So he was clutching at straws. Abby sighed. ‘What’s the charity?’
‘We’re doing it in conjunction with Answers Through Sport.’
‘I’ve heard of them. I learned to swim in one of their classes when I was a kid.’
‘Really?’ He was on the alert suddenly and Abby bit her lip. ‘I didn’t think they did general classes.’
They didn’t. Abby had been a beneficiary of their Fighting Back programme for bullied teenagers. But that was none of Nick’s business. ‘So how did you get involved with them?’
‘They helped me when I was recovering from my addiction to drugs.’ He shrugged. ‘Now I’m returning the favour and doing some fundraising for them. They have match funding, so they’ll get a grant for an amount equal to that which they raise for themselves.’
Abby’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. ‘So thirty grand becomes sixty.’
‘Yeah. Do you see now why I won’t give up without a fight? What would you do in my place?’
That was none of his business. She wasn’t in his place and he had no right to ask, particularly since the answer would only encourage him in this scheme of his. ‘Couldn’t you get someone to step in and do the swims for you?’
‘I thought of that, but we’ve already got everyone doing as much as they can. Even if we could find a volunteer, a month isn’t long enough to build up the kind of fitness you need for something like this.’ He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. ‘Why, do you know anyone?’
Abby’s heart sank. Nick had no choice but to keep believing that he might just be able to do this. And now she had no choice.
‘Yeah, I know someone. Me.’
Nick had refused point blank to even countenance the idea at first. But Abby had presented her credentials, competitive swimming as a teenager, member of a cross-Channel relay team when she’d been at medical school. And Nick knew as well as anyone that she was a strong enough swimmer, they’d raced together enough times at the gym.
The project committee cordially invited him to do the arithmetic. He did it and conceded. Not so cordially. But Abby had already secured the promise of two weeks’ leave from work and stepped up her training.
‘That’s three miles.’ His voice floated across the deserted swimming pool.
‘No, it’s not. I’ve got another two lengths to go. And I’d better do them quickly, before the advanced-swimmers session ends.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Yeah, the children’s swimming classes will be starting in ten minutes. One final push, eh?’ Nick was sitting at the side of the pool, wearing a T-shirt and sweat pants. Tanned, relaxed and irritating beyond measure. ‘Then I’ll buy you breakfast.’
She didn’t want him to buy her breakfast. It had taken him over a week to contact all his sponsors personally and now that was done he’d switched his attention to her. For the last two days he’d been turning up at the pool at seven o’clock in the morning to help with her training, dispensing shouted advice and encouragement that Abby doggedly ignored.
She swam another four lengths, just to show him who was boss, and found him waiting by the pool steps, one hand gripping his elbow crutch, the other holding out a large towel. ‘Here you are. Don’t get chilled.’
Abby wrapped the towel around herself gratefully. Being in her swimsuit when he was fully clothed, was far more uncomfortable than she had bargained for. Much more challenging than those first easy days of their acquaintance, when the guy with heart-stoppingly broad shoulders had first beaten her by two yards to the far end of the pool then smiled in her direction and exchanged a few words with her.
‘Thanks.’ She looked around as a group of adults and children emerged from the changing rooms. ‘Looks like I won’t get much more done now.’
‘You’ve done enough.’ He reached into his pocket and consulted a stopwatch. ‘An hour and twenty-five. Not bad.’
‘What do you mean, not bad? What’s your best time?’
‘One hour ten. But you did four extra lengths.’
Even if she had, she’d still have to work a little harder if she was going to match his time. But she had another three weeks to go.
‘You shouldn’t push yourself.’ He seemed to know what she was thinking. ‘An injury at this point would be bad news.’
‘I know. I’ve done this before, remember.’
He grinned, and Abby clutched the thick towel around her tightly. ‘So where do you want to go for breakfast? As it’s Saturday, we can take our time.’
Breakfast in the presence of Nick’s smile sounded fantastic, but it was forbidden fruit. On the other hand, she needed to eat and at this rate she’d be gnawing her own arm off before she managed to get rid of him. ‘What about that place across the road? They do fresh croissants and a latte to die for.’
‘Sure. Whatever you want. I’ll meet you in the lobby…’ Nick seemed to realise that he’d lost Abby’s attention and that it was now fixed on a small group of children on the other side of the pool.
It was nothing. Just high jinks, kids mucking about. Abby kept her eye on the group anyway.
‘So I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes?’
‘Yeah, ten minutes…’ The shrill voices of the children swelled above the mounting noise in the pool and Abby strained to see what was going on.
‘What is it?’ She could feel his fingers brushing her elbow lightly, and she jerked her arm away. She had neither the time nor the inclination to stop and discuss this with Nick. Abby marched round to the other side of the pool and approached the group of children.
There was a little girl at the centre, red in the face and obviously trying to hold back tears, as one of the older girls made jokes that everyone else seemed to think were funny. She’d been that child. Surrounded by a ring of distorted faces, trying not to cry at their taunts. Hoping that someone would come along and break it up. And now Abby had the chance to do something that no one had ever bothered to do for her. She had to get this right.
‘Excuse me.’ Abby had to shoulder her way through the group to reach the child. ‘I just wanted to ask you where you got your swimming costume? I’m looking for one for my niece, and this is so pretty.’
As she spoke, the group melted away, re-forming a few yards away behind Abby’s back. She ignored them and knelt down next to the little girl, leaning in to hear her whispered reply.
‘Really? I was in there the other day and I didn’t see any pink ones.’ Abby smiled encouragingly. ‘I’ll have to go back and take another look.’
She got a hesitant smile back, which felt like pure gold, and the sick feeling in her stomach began to subside a little. The child reached forward and pulled at Abby’s towel. ‘Does yours have flowers?’
‘No, worse luck.’ Abby unwrapped the towel, wrinkling her nose. ‘Just plain blue. Not as pretty as yours.’
Another smile. This time bright and clear, the way a child should smile. ‘Which swimming class are you in, sweetie?’
‘Over there.’ Abby followed the little girl’s pointing finger to a group of younger children at the shallow end of the pool, supervised by two women.
‘Well, why don’t you go and join them? But there’s something I’d like to tell you first.’
‘Okay.’ Half the child’s attention was already on her playmates.
‘If anyone ever hurts you or makes fun of you, you should tell an adult. Your mum or dad, or one of your teachers.’ That hadn’t worked too well for Abby, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t good advice in general. ‘Will you remember that?’
‘All right.’ The child nodded solemnly and scuttled away, the jibes of the older girls seemingly forgotten. Abby sat back on her heels and took a deep breath to steady herself. The adult in her told her that banging the bullies’ heads together and throwing them in the pool wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all their victim. The child in her was itching to do just that.
The sound of feet scuffling on the tiles as the group behind her broke up, saved her from herself. Abby turned and saw Nick approaching and got to her feet, pulling the towel back around her.
‘You’re shivering.’ He’d followed her to the bench at the side of the pool and lowered himself down next to her.
She wasn’t shivering, she was trembling. There was a difference and Nick knew it as well as she did. ‘I’m okay. I should let someone know…’
‘Go and get dressed.’ He indicated the children’s swimming coach with a nod of his head. ‘I’ll let Diane know what’s happened.’
He was right. She had to let go of this, pass it over to the people who were best placed to do something. It was hard, though. Abby had worked through the fear and self-loathing from her own childhood but seeing another child bullied had created a whole new set of emotions. Anger and helplessness had smacked her hard in the face, leaving her reeling.
‘Go and get changed.’ He had already caught Diane’s eye and was pulling himself to his feet, grabbing his crutches.
There was nothing for it but to do as he said. Abby sat for a moment, watching Nick and Diane as they talked. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. She repeated the words over to herself as she made her way towards the entrance to the changing rooms.
Nick only had to get out of his sweatpants and canvas shoes then pull on a pair of jeans, but when he made it to the reception area he found that Abby was already there, waiting for him. ‘Is she all right?’ She fired the words at him almost before he had reached her.
‘She’s fine. Diane’s talked to her and she’s going to have a word with the mother. She asked me to thank you for spotting what was going on and breaking it up.’
She nodded wordlessly, her eyes fixed on the floor. It seemed that what he’d done met with her approval.
‘You ready for breakfast, then?’ Maybe he’d ask her. About that haunted look in her eyes and the way she’d reacted at the poolside. The way she was reacting now.
‘I’m a little tired. Maybe another time.’
He supposed that ‘another time’ meant when he’d forgotten all about what had happened here this morning. That wasn’t going to happen. ‘Abby, I know that no case of bullying should be taken lightly…’ he didn’t know quite how to put this ‘… but you seem very upset.’
The look in her eyes told him that he was right. She’d chosen to see something else, something that she remembered rather than what had actually gone on here. But her lips, pressed together tightly, showed that she wasn’t about to admit anything of the sort. ‘I’m tired, Nick, and I didn’t react appropriately. It was a mistake.’
‘Our mistakes often tell us more than anything.’ Nick smiled to soften the words. It wasn’t a criticism. Or if it was, it was aimed primarily at himself.
‘And what this one tells me is that I’m tired and I need to get home.’
‘Are you sure?’ He shouldn’t be questioning her like this. Or rather he shouldn’t care so much. If he didn’t care about her answers, then asking would have been okay.
He was about to get the brush-off—he could almost see the lie forming on her lips. He caught her gaze, searching her pale blue eyes, and for a moment he saw the truth and wanted to hold Abby, protect her from every real and imagined threat.
‘I’m going home, Nick.’ She swung her swimming bag onto her shoulder and would have walked away from him if he’d let her.
He’d cared too much, pushed her too hard, and now she’d drawn back. Nick preferred not to think about what that mistake said about him. ‘I’ll drop by later in the week with the detailed itinerary.’
‘Good. Thanks.’
‘Keep up the good work.’
‘Right.’ There was no stopping her from going, this time. She turned and walked away from him, turning in the doorway to give him a wave that looked far more like Goodbye and good riddance than See you later, and then she was gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
EUSTON station was crowded, rush-hour commuters streaming from trains and making their way in a concentrated mass to the Underground escalators. Abby stood in the most open spot she could, studying the departure boards. The train for Windermere was an estimated twelve minutes late, which meant there was over half an hour to wait.
No one was here yet. No Nick at the platform entrance, where they’d said they’d meet, and the swarms of people on the station concourse were making her head swim.
Standing on her toes, Abby could see a coffee shop in one corner of the station. There was a queue of people waiting for their early morning shot, but at least she’d have somewhere to stand where her case wasn’t constantly being bumped by passers-by.
She fixed her eyes on her destination and began to march determinedly towards it. She hated crowds. Rush-hour commuting was an art, and she’d got used to it, but she’d never managed to completely lose the feeling of unease at being confronted with a faceless, potentially antagonistic mass of people. And her nerves at the thought of seeing Nick again, despite the fact that they’d been in almost daily contact by email, weren’t helping particularly.
There was a wait for the coffee, but as soon as she had the warm cardboard beaker in her hand she began to feel better. Now all she had to do was find a quiet corner to drink it in. She waited while another stream of people walked briskly past. Her stomach was still churning and she needed to sit down, sip her drink and get herself together.
‘Oh!’ Someone had collided with her case, kicked it to one side and kept walking. The plastic top flew off the beaker of coffee as Abby’s fingers tightened instinctively around it, and hot liquid spilled onto her fleece jacket and dribbled onto the floor.
Nothing like looking where you’re going! The words shot through her head, but she was suddenly too breathless to mutter them after the man. Her hands were full, coffee in one hand, case in the other, the straps of her handbag beginning to slip from her shoulder. As another wave of anonymous faces headed straight for her, Abby scurried towards the only form of cover she could reach, an information board at the edge of the concourse, and leaned against it for support.
‘Not now. Not now!’ She muttered the instruction to herself under her breath, so softly that even she couldn’t hear the words. Her lungs were straining for air and her heart thumped in her chest as if it had decided that it wanted out and the most direct route was straight through her ribcage.
‘Breathe. One… two…’ Her words were louder and touched with desperation this time, but that didn’t seem to make much difference. She was gulping in air too fast and a feeling of nameless, shapeless dread was beginning to engulf her.
‘Everything’s okay. Just slow down.’ Abby tried again to convince her own body to respond, closing her eyes in concentration and then snapping them back open again as the world swam and she almost toppled over.
‘Abby?’ Someone was there. Someone who smelled like Nick. Soft leather and sandalwood, gasped into her heaving lungs and then breathed out again far too quickly.
‘Give her some space.’ His voice rang out. Commanding enough to divert the flow of people away from them. An arm around her shoulders pulled her into the protection of his body and she clung to him, letting him prise the half-empty beaker of coffee from the convulsive grip of her fingers.
‘Slowly, Abby. Breathe slowly. On my count… One… two… three.’
For a moment, her heaving lungs listened and complied with his instructions, where they had ignored her own. But then the noise in her ears and the banging of her heart, craving more oxygen than was strictly good for it, took over again. She was dimly aware of someone stopping, and that Nick had spoken to them, but right now all she could think of was that she had to get out of there.
‘Okay, Abby. Everything’s okay. Come with me.’ He tried to move her, and she clutched instinctively for the handle of her case. ‘It’s all right. Someone’s bringing your bag. We’re just going outside to sit down.’
Sit down. Yes. She’d like to sit down. She’d be okay in a minute if she could just sit down. She felt the slightly uneven sway of Nick’s body against hers as he led her through the automatic doors and out into the fresh air.
‘Would you mind? Thank you. No, she just needs to sit for a moment. Thanks.’ Nick had cleared a space for her on a nearby bench and Abby sank down onto it gratefully. Someone moved up and he sat down next to her, his arm around her shoulder.
Her chest was still heaving frantically. ‘Anyone got a paper bag? Yeah, large one.’ His voice again. ‘Thanks.’ Nick shook the bag out and put it into her trembling fingers. ‘You know what to do, Abby. That’s right.’
He helped her put the bag up to her lips and she took a breath. Then another. And another. That was better. There were a few crumbs left on the inside of the bag and she smelled the rich smell of almond paste. Must be the remains of an almond croissant.
‘Better?’ Nick was holding her, not tightly but close enough to let her know that he was there. That someone was there.
‘Yes… thanks. Sorry.’
‘Don’t you worry about it.’ A smartly dressed woman was bending down in front of her, and she brushed Abby’s knee with well-manicured fingers. ‘I get panic attacks, too. You’ll be okay in a minute.’
A single tear of mortification prickled at the side of Abby’s eye and she brushed it away before Nick got a chance to see it. ‘Sorry to make such a fuss.’
‘Hey, there. You don’t need to apologise.’ Nick gently slipped the straps of her handbag from her shoulder, and she realised that she had been hugging it tightly to her side. ‘Let go. That’s right.’
‘She’s all wet.’ The manicured fingers brushed at her fleece, ineffectually.
‘Yeah, let’s get this off you, Abby.’ Nick pulled at the zipper and had her out of it in a second. Obviously the result of practice. ‘Your T-shirt doesn’t look too bad. Just a few drops.’
She drew her arms across her body, shivering despite the warmth of the morning breeze. Nick wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and she snuggled into it, wondering if she could somehow contrive to disappear.
At least he took the task off her shoulders of thanking the concerned passers-by and sending them on their way. Finally they were alone, his arm still protectively draped across the back of the bench behind her.
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