‘Yeah—and I can’t have one, so you can’t either.’

‘No, you can’t, but we could always save you one for later—we need any excuse we can get for a cream cake at coffee time!’ She propped herself on the edge of the treatment couch and grinned at the patient. ‘We all need treats, don’t we, Darren?’

Darren nodded. ‘I fancy a cream cake. I’m bored with eating nothing decent. Can’t you sneak off to the bakery now?’

‘No—and anyway, you know you can’t have a cream cake,’ Allie told him with mock sternness. ‘You need to rest your stomach for a few more days, not overload it with junk food, and besides, it’s not my birthday any more.’

‘We could pretend.’

‘No, we couldn’t. It’s too soon after your operation.’

He poked his tongue out, and Allie chuckled and pressed the new pouch firmly in place. ‘We’ll pretend when you’re better. There. That’s you sorted. I’ll come and see you in a while—unless you want to go into the playroom and watch telly with the others?’

He shook his head. ‘Not yet. Perhaps tomorrow.’

‘OK.’ She smiled and gave him a quick hug, then pushed the trolley back to the treatment room and cleared up the equipment. ‘He hates it,’ she murmured to Anna as she worked.

‘I know. It must be hell on a kid to have a colostomy, even if it’s only temporary. Let’s just hope the abscess clears up quickly.’

‘Absolutely—but at least he’s not in so much pain now. He just needs to heal and learn to eat the right foods—and definitely no cream cakes, no matter how bored he is.’

‘Which gets us back to your birthday and the rather gorgeous Mark Jarvis.’

Allie laughed and popped the bag of waste into the bin. ‘It was just a quick meal,’ she lied. ‘Nothing special.’

‘What was nothing special?’

Her heart sank. Of all the times for him to walk in—

‘Nothing.’

‘Excuse me,’ Anna said, and slid out, winking at Allie as she went.

‘What was nothing special?’ Mark said again, and Allie, sighing, turned to face him.

‘Our meal last night. She was being curious—I was just saying that to get her off my back.’

He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Were you? Or did you mean it?’

She thought of lying, of covering her own emotions to protect herself, and then she looked into his eyes and knew she couldn’t lie. ‘No. I didn’t mean it.’

‘That’s all right, then.’ He smiled, his mouth kicking up at the corners and creasing his eyes. ‘What are you doing?’

She washed her hands and scrubbed them on a paper towel. ‘Just redone Darren Forsey’s colostomy pouch.’

‘Oh, joy. Bet you enjoyed it. I’ve come in to have a look at him, amongst others. How is he?’

‘Fed up. He’s better than he was, but he’s still got to deal with the colostomy for a few weeks and endless suppositories, and I think he’s going to die of embarrassment. Your little girl with appendicitis is bright and lively today, though.’

He chuckled. ‘Bounced back, has she? Kids are amazing.’ His smile faded as he looked at her, and he glanced down at his hands, then back to her, his eyes seeming to see right through her. ‘If dinner really wasn’t nothing special, how about tonight?’

She sorted out all the negatives. ‘Tonight?’ she repeated, her heart jiggling in her chest and a smile fighting its way onto her lips. ‘What about tonight?’

‘I wondered if you fancied a drink. We could grab a bar snack or something, too. There’s a pub I’ve been told about in a village a few miles out, and it’s supposed to have a really nice atmosphere. The food’s supposed to be good, too.’

Should she play it cool and stall him for a week?

No. Subterfuge wasn’t her thing, never had been, never would be. She let the smile escape. ‘Sounds great. What time?’

‘Seven again? I could pick you up, now I know where you live.’

‘Anna will be unbearably curious.’

‘Anna needs a lover,’ he said firmly.

‘Mmm. I think she fancied you for the job.’

His neck went an interesting shade of brick. ‘Tough,’ he murmured. ‘Right, must get on. Where’s Darren? In his room?’

‘Yes—just opposite the nursing station, in the single room. Can you manage?’

‘You keep asking me that. No faith,’ he said drily, and she watched him go, stifling a sigh of sheer enjoyment. It wasn’t just adolescent fantasy, he was good-looking. Very decorative. She eyed the soft, thick hair on his head. It was the colour of a gold nugget, not bright, just warm and interesting and tinged with fair bits where the sun had bleached it. It looked infinitely touchable—

And she was in danger of losing her job and her marbles if she didn’t pull herself together!

She cleared away the last of her bits and pieces, washed her hands again and went out into the ward. There was a baby crying, little Amy Fulcher, who was in under observation after severe abdominal pain with no obvious cause.

Her mother had gone outside for a short walk in the fresh air, and Allie scooped up the eighteen-month-old and cuddled her, walking her up and down and crooning to her until she settled again. Poor little scamp was exhausted, because she’d been crying off and on all night. It seemed likely that the surgeon in charge of her case would decide to operate today to investigate, but the baby seemed reasonably well apart from the pain.

Mark came over to her as she was settling the baby down against her shoulder, and brushed his hand lightly over her head. ‘Poor little scrap. They’re going to X-ray her again,’ he told her. ‘Apparently they think she might have bands or adhesions around the intestines.’

‘Mmm. She’s a bit old for bands to suddenly be a problem at eighteen months, and she hasn’t had any previous surgery to give her adhesions, but it could be, I suppose. The symptoms fit. It’s obviously not that bad because she’s not shocky or vomiting—’

Flying in the face of God, she thought a second later, as Amy retched and covered her uniform in green bile.

‘OK, I take that back. Thank you, darling. How lovely. Shh, sweetheart, it’s all right now,’ Allie said under her breath, soothing the baby automatically. She went quiet, and Allie laid her down in the cot and looked at her shoulder and chest in despair. She’d deal with it later. Just now she had to wipe the baby’s mouth and make sure she was all right.

Certainly the crying had stopped. Mark looked over her shoulder.

‘Well, it seems to have done the trick—she’s more comfortable now,’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Jolly good. I’m so glad one of us is.’

He chuckled, and patted her other shoulder. ‘You smell gorgeous.’

Thank you so much,’ she said with a huge false smile. ‘I can’t tell you what it’s like from this side.’

‘Did someone chuck on you, Nurse?’ one of the boys asked, cruising past on crutches and regarding her uniform with undisguised mirth.

‘Just a bit. How’s your leg?’

‘Excellent. I can go home today, maybe, if the X-ray’s all right.’

‘Good. That’s great.’ It was. Healthy young boys with damaged limbs were a nightmare to entertain and keep quiet, but fortunately for the most part they healed at a huge rate of knots and thus weren’t such a drastic problem.

‘You just want to get rid of me,’ he said mournfully, and Allie laughed.

‘You guessed, Tim.’

Tim flashed her a grin and set off again. He was getting too darned good on those crutches—

‘Can I make a suggestion?’

Allie glanced up at Mark, glowering at his twinkling eyes and twitching mouth.

‘Change my clothes, perhaps?’

‘You guessed.’ He smiled. ‘Great minds, eh?’

She sniffed, curled up her nose expressively and headed for the sluice.

‘I’ll just strip this tabard off and find a clean shirt, then I’ll be back to write that lot up. I don’t suppose you’d like to report it to the surgical team? Oh, and find someone to sort Amy out?’

‘Sure.’ Mark grinned, waggled his fingers and went into the office to use the phone, and Allie dealt with the little crisis to her person, washed her hands for the thousandth time that day and pulled on a clean shirt from the stores.