Chapter Ten
Miss Dorothy Tate
Eighty-two
Tendon repair
DOMINIC’S INTENTION WAS to skim through the notes and then assess the patient for himself—except Rachel’s handwriting jumped out at him as if it had been written in neon.
He knew that writing almost as well as he knew his own, and he found that he smiled as he read it. Even her sparse notes said so much about the patient.
Cut hand making soup for the homeless!
He walked into the anaesthetic area and introduced himself. ‘How are you, Miss Tate?’
‘To be honest, I’m feeling like rather a nuisance.’
‘Absolutely you’re not,’ Dominic refuted. ‘Accidents happen. I know your surgery has been cancelled and rescheduled a few times over the weekend, and I’m sorry about that.’
‘Well, there have been a lot of emergencies...’
‘There have been, but hopefully you’ve been well looked after?’
‘Very much so.’ Miss Tate nodded.
Dominic made more small talk as he put in a second IV, in case it was needed. ‘What were you doing playing with knives with these hands?’ he asked when he saw her gnarled fingers.
‘I was making soup.’
‘So I read,’ Dominic said. ‘For the homeless.’
‘Well, someone has to take care of them.’
‘Yes,’ Dominic agreed. ‘But how about you let us take care of you now?’
He went through the procedure with her and explained that she would be having a regional block rather than a general anaesthetic.
‘You won’t feel a thing, but I can give you a light sedative if you like.’
‘I don’t want a sedative. I like to know what’s going on. Will you be with me, Doctor?’
‘The whole time. So if you change your mind just let me know.’
‘I won’t change my mind.’ Miss Tate smiled.
She watched him as he worked and Dominic could feel her eyes on him.
‘You look tired, Doctor,’ she said.
‘Not at all,’ Dominic lied.
‘Were you on call last night?’
‘No.’ He shook his head, and of course he didn’t add that he’d been up most of the night looking through photographs.
‘You were there on Saturday night,’ she commented.
‘Where?’
‘With Jordan—the one who fell off the table dancing. Such a lovely young man. You stayed by his bed until his wife arrived.’
‘Yes.’ Dominic nodded.
He went through her medical history. Apart from some arthritis in her hands, there wasn’t much of note.
‘What’s your secret?’ he asked.
‘I never married,’ Miss Tate said, and smiled.
Dominic gave a wry laugh and decided he liked this old girl.
‘What about you?’ she asked.
He looked down into shrewd bright blue eyes and realised she knew. No doubt she had heard Jordan bringing Heather up to speed—and after he’d asked him not to say anything as well.
Seeing those blue eyes that had seen a whole lot more than he had, Dominic told the truth. ‘Once,’ he admitted, and saw the eyes of the anaesthetic nurse look up in surprise.
‘Married?’ the nurse said. ‘You?’
‘Yep.’
It was a relief to admit it. Dominic was sick of playing by Rachel’s rules. Whether she liked it or not, they had once been a couple—a couple who had had a son. He couldn’t keep hiding the past, when it was here in front of him, in plain sight.
* * *
His past wouldn’t be there for much longer, though. Rachel was at this very moment taking herself out of his life.
‘Could I have a word, please, May?’
She should have done this the very first day she saw Dominic.
For some people, working alongside an ex might be no big deal. For Rachel, it had proved to be something far worse than hell—it had been a glimpse of impossible bliss.
‘I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t let on to anyone else that I’m leaving,’ she told May. ‘I’ve only been here a few weeks and I’d really rather just slip off.’
And she’d be slipping off very soon, given that she had been here less than a month, which meant there wasn’t even any notice to serve. But she agreed to see out the week.
‘What about the flat?’ May asked. ‘Are you going to lose a lot of money for breaking your lease?’
‘A bit,’ Rachel admitted.
‘What price your peace of mind, though?’ May smiled. ‘We’ll be sorry to lose you, Rachel. You’re a wonderful emergency nurse. Though I have to say I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. When you told me you and Gordon had broken up, I expected your notice the next day.’
Gordon.
What a time for May to finally remember his name.
But it was like hearing the name of a song she’d once known—familiar, but the lyrics were a little hard to recall.
Then she took a patient up to the orthopaedic ward, and there, standing at the end of Jordan’s bed and having a chat with him, was her song.
Or rather, there was Dominic.
Dominic was the song that made her heart lurch in recall, the song that dragged her up to the dance floor each and every time, the song she sang in the shower, the song she turned up the second she heard the introduction, the song she sang at full volume...
Dominic Hadley was her song.
And she simply had to stop listening to it.
* * *
Dominic glanced up and saw her and, still smarting from her walking out on him, turned his back and returned to his conversation with Jordan.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Miss Tate, and as he left the ward, she gave him a look.
A look he knew only too well.
A look that told him, You can behave better than that.