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  ‘Well, I’ve been bloody freezing all day,’ he continued, as if they were having an actual conversation. ‘The theatre air-con is buggering about. Had to wear thermals to stop my hands shaking.’

  ‘Uh …’ Millie bit her lip, her eyes flicking from his tanned hand up to his thermal-clad arm. Something about the white material pulled tight over his muscular forearm caused the most weird sensation to sweep up from her stomach. Her heart actually felt like it had stopped for a moment, before it picked up double time.

  ‘It’s my Greek blood I guess,’ he said, and she blinked before taking another small step away. ‘Thanks, Doreen.’

  It was then Millie realized that her coffee was in front of her and she had inadvertently moved away from the cash register. Oh God, he was paying for her coffee! She watched in horrified silence as Mr Martakis handed Doreen a tenner and was given a twenty and some loose change back. The most ridiculous argument ensued, culminating in him forcing another tenner on a confused Doreen, leaning right over the counter to kiss Doreen on the cheek, and refusing any change. Millie watched all this with her mouth slightly open. That was until he turned to her and started moving forward. She sucked in a breath and skittered back, catching her hip on the condiment counter.

  ‘Hey,’ Mr Martakis said softly, stopping his advance and holding his hands up. ‘Hey, you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she croaked, then cleared her throat. ‘You … you can’t pay for my coffee.’

  Mr Martakis’ concerned frown melted away to be replaced by his wide, glamorous smile, showing his white teeth off against his olive skin. Millie’s heart skipped another beat as she focused on his mouth, before quickly dropping her gaze down to her feet.

  ‘I think I just did so … maybe you can get the next one?’

  He was moving towards her again, and as her back was now pressed up against the counter, short of darting around him (which again would have revealed weakness and she had been weak enough around this man already) she had nowhere to go.

  ‘The … the next one?’ she muttered, frowning down at her coffee cup in confusion.

  ‘Yes,’ Pav said as he moved right into her personal space and put his hand gently on her back to propel her forward away from the counter. ‘The next one. Like, tomorrow? You sort of owe me after that stunt you pulled at the club. I had some explaining to do to Mr Steroids on the door.’

  ‘I … oh, you mean the … the bouncer? I just –’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Mr Martakis dismissed, waving the hand that was not at the small of her back. ‘I know Barry. We sorted it. Now, about that drink –’

  ‘Wh … what?’ she stammered, feeling the heat of his large hand on her back and moving faster to get away from it. That was until she couldn’t move any further. He’d manoeuvred her over to his table before she’d even realized what was happening.

  ‘Hi, Millie,’ Libby said gently, giving her an encouraging smile.

  ‘Hey,’ Jamie put in, giving her a brief nod before he turned to Mr Martakis and frowned, probably confused as to why he’d dragged her over here. That makes two of us, Millie thought in bewilderment.

  ‘Dr M.,’ Kira muttered, not bothering with an encouraging smile. Libby and Kira had both started as medical students at the hospital a few months ago and whilst Libby was kind, Millie was well aware how much Kira disliked her. Ironically, though, the feeling was not mutual at all. Millie thought Kira was hilarious and a little bit crazy. Unfortunately, when faced with big personalities and extreme extrovert behaviour, Millie tended to shut down. So any interaction she’d had with Kira in the past had been strained to say the least. The friendlier Kira was, the more dismissive Millie became and there was no way for her to stop it.

  ‘Dr Morrison and I have been grappling with Doreen for the last ten minutes,’ Mr Martakis explained smoothly whilst he pulled out a chair and gestured for Millie to sit down. Millie looked at his hand and up to his thermal-covered forearm before she glanced at his face, still sporting that wide glamorous smile. ‘Take a seat.’

  Her mouth dropped open and she blinked once. There was no way in hell she was sitting down.

  ‘I think you’re making Dr Morrison uncomfortable, Pav,’ Kira said, her voice uncharacteristically flat and unwelcoming.

  ‘I … I’m not …’ Millie took a step back and watched as Mr Martakis shot Kira an annoyed look before he skirted his chair to move towards her, causing it to scrape along the linoleum.

  ‘Ta-ta, Dr M.,’ Kira said with a fake smile and a small wave. ‘Great chat, as always.’

  Millie took another step back but came to an abrupt halt as her back hit a solid wall of flesh. The coffee she was holding spilled over the edges of the cup and onto her hand. She barely registered the scalding pain.

  ‘Shi – I mean, sorry, Dr Morrison,’ the large ODP (operating department practitioner) that worked with Jamie and with whom Millie had just collided said.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I … sorry …’ She trailed off and turned on her heel to leave. As she weaved through the tables she put down her coffee cup; it was only half full now anyway and she couldn’t exactly run back to the radiology department with it sloshing all over the place. Her hand started to throb as she rounded the double doors of the canteen and strode down the corridor at speed. Once in the safety of her office, she leaned up against the door and closed her eyes.

  Donald was on leave today. It was bad timing. She needed him here. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Needing Don was a bad idea. Needing anyone was a bad idea. Millie knew she had to rely on herself. Her hand throbbed again and she rolled her eyes. If she hadn’t scuttled backwards like a terrified rabbit she wouldn’t have run into that ODP and she wouldn’t have burnt her hand. She moved away from the door, and was just about to start running some cold water into the small sink in the corner when a loud staccato knock caused her to jump about a foot in the air.

  She knew who it was before his head appeared around the frame. That knock could only belong to someone as larger-than-life as Him. She contemplated hiding under her desk (it wouldn’t have been the first time – she’d tucked herself in behind the front panel more than once before to avoid people) but there just wasn’t time to sufficiently squash herself into the available space, and the thought of how ludicrous she would look if caught made her break out in a cold sweat.

  ‘Hey,’ Mr Martakis said as he stepped into the office as if it was his own. Millie would never enter someone else’s space unless specifically invited. She marvelled at how confident, pushy and … and rude this man could be. Then, after entering her office without permission, he proceeded to casually stroll up to her, stand way too close and take both her hands gently in his. ‘Ah, bugger,’ he muttered as he moved her right hand into the light to see the red burn marks over the back and fingers. ‘Let’s get this under some cold water.’

  He propelled her forward to the sink by her elbow, turned on the faucet and then held her hand under the flow. Millie’s whole body had gone rigid with shock as soon as he put his hands on her. And now, with her back to his front and his arms around her to hold her hand under the tap, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. There was the instinctive fear she had when in physical contact with anyone, but this was mixed with a far more worrying and foreign feeling, almost like flying; kind of what she imagined it would be like to take drugs. Her ears were ringing and her heart was hammering in her chest.

  ‘It’s pretty red but hopefully it won’t blister,’ he murmured behind her ear, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. ‘Jesus, what are all these bruises?’ Her sleeves had ridden up and the inner surface of her forearms were showing. ‘What the –’

  Millie had dropped down and ducked under his arm, then dashed across the room, putting her office chair between them. He spun around to face her with a bemused expression on his face. She gripped the back of the chair and kept her eyes focused on her desk.

  ‘
Dr M.?’ he called, and she flinched. ‘Okay, I’m going to move away from the sink now, all right,’ he told her as he started walking backwards to the other side of the room and Don’s desk. ‘I’m sorry I crowded you but can you please put your hand back under the water?’

  Millie blinked down at her hand, which started throbbing again as her adrenaline receded. She glanced at Mr Martakis out of the corner of her eye; then, with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances, she walked to the sink.

  ‘Will you keep it under the water?’

  Millie never cried. Tears did not work for her when she was a child. Instead of crying her throat would close over almost completely, making it impossible to speak. Thus, a distressed Millie was always, always an entirely silent one. So, with no other option, all she could do was nod her head whilst she stayed focused on her hand under the running water.

  ‘I’m going to go now, okay?’ he said cautiously, and she nodded again.

  After the door closed behind him, part of her was weak with relief, but the other part, the part that had experienced that rush when he was near her, that part felt such an acute sense of loss it was almost painful.

  Chapter 3

  Thwarted ambition

  Pav shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned as he made his way back to the canteen. He’d been so distracted that he’d left his phone on the table. Yes, he was normally a disorganized bastard, but that level of inattention was rare, even for him.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Jamie asked as Pav approached the group. They’d all finished their lunches and were starting to collect their things together.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Libby’s face was awash with concern. To Pav’s knowledge Libby was the only other hospital worker who did not seem to hold any animosity towards Dr Morrison. Dr M. had even looked after Libby’s little girl in the past, which was a shock in itself, seeing as people in general did not seem to be the radiologist’s forte. As Libby was a medical student and a single mother (well, not quite so single anymore thanks to Jamie), Dr Morrison’s help had been a much needed lifeline – but it was still a bizarre choice of childcare in Pav’s opinion.

  ‘I didn’t mean to piss her off so much that she’d scald herself,’ Kira put in, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. ‘You know I can’t control my mouth sometimes. It’s just that she can be such a mega-bitch.’

  Dr Morrison had an unfortunate but well-earned reputation around the hospital for her cold manner and her ability to make you feel stupid when you requested a scan. Consultants like Pav and Jamie took that sort of humiliation on the chin, but it was a bit mean-spirited when it came to students like Kira. There had been a couple of times over the last month when Kira had come back from the radiology department with a pale face and without her usual relentless banter. Pav knew that Kira’s confidence clinically had been knocked recently, when she’d failed an anatomy viva, so the last thing she needed was for Nuclear Winter to make her feel even more substandard.

  Pav reached for his phone and tucked it into his back pocket.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Libby asked, a small frown marring her forehead.

  ‘She’s fine,’ he told them with a confidence he didn’t feel. His mind flashed back to the red burn marks on her hand and the bruises he’d seen on her forearm, and his stomach tightened. ‘Maybe you could go check on her though Libs? You seem to be the only one she’s comfortable with.’

  Kira snorted in agreement.

  ‘You know, Ki-Ki,’ Pav said after a moment, ‘I’m not sure she means to be a bitch. Maybe she’s just … shy.’

  ‘You think?’ Kira’s forehead was creased in a frown and her head cocked to the side so that her long red hair fell over one small shoulder. ‘I have to say she’s pretty high up on my list of People Who Need a Slap With a Wet Fish.’

  Libby sighed. ‘I’ve told you all before,’ she said in an exasperated tone. ‘You don’t know Millie. She’s got … issues.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re bang on there,’ Kira muttered, and Libby shot her an annoyed look.

  ‘She’s really good with Rosie, Kira. But you’ve got to be a bit less …’ Libby paused and looked up at the ceiling before she shrugged and focused back on Kira with a small smile, ‘… you.’

  ‘A bit less me?’

  ‘Yes. I think you intimidate her.’

  ‘I intimidate her?’ Kira rolled her eyes. ‘Her heart is carved of ice Libs. I doubt any human could intimidate her.’

  ‘Just give her a chance.’

  Kira paused. ‘Well … I guess she did call me to sort you out when you were ill. She can’t be a complete robot.’

  ‘I think we should all make a bit more effort with her actually,’ Pav cut in. ‘I’ve certainly got to try and get her on side if I want to get her to present at the Grand Round.’

  Pav needed to talk Dr Morrison around. So far she’d refused to even consider speaking about her research in public. Pav knew this because, as the Director of Surgery, he was the one who received the emails from conferences, when they had no luck with her. Apparently she’d turned down every one of them. Pavlos could not understand why anybody would turn down that opportunity. He himself would give his right arm to present his new surgical technique for minimally invasive prostatectomy. Knowing this, and desperate for Dr Morrison to speak at his conference, the organizer of the European Urological Association meeting had contacted Pav last week with an offer of a slot to speak to the main lecture hall, if he could convince Dr Morrison to take a slot as well. So far her study had only involved orthopedic and urology patients; both specialties were vying for who could convince her to talk first, and Pav’s assistance would give the urologists the edge. The conference was in six months. Pav had told the organizer ‘no worries’.

  ‘Millie needs genuine friends, Pav,’ Libby said with more than a hint of reproach in her voice. ‘Leave her alone if you’re just trying to get her to speak at that bloody conference you’re always on about.’ Pav had told them all about the stalemate he was involved in with Dr Morrison. Libby had been adamant that he not push ‘Millie’ too hard to present.

  ‘You’ve no chance, mate,’ Jamie chuckled. ‘Even the legendary Pavlos rays of supercharm won’t be enough to warm up Nuclear Winter.’ Libby punched Jamie in the arm.

  ‘Don’t call her that,’ she snapped. ‘And Pav, I’m serious about you leaving Millie alone. Jamie’s being a dick, but he’s right about the conference; there’s no way she’ll do that.’

  We’ll see, Pav thought as he clenched his jaw in frustration. Thwarted ambition was not his style. We’ll just see.

  *****

  Millie’s body tensed as she heard the far softer knock on her door.

  ‘Millie?’ At the sound of Libby’s voice she sagged slightly in relief but also a little, tiny bit of disappointment. It was official: she was losing her mind. Her office door was pushed open and Libby’s head appeared around it, followed by Rosie’s underneath.

  ‘We’ve come to fix your hand,’ the five-year-old bossed as she pushed her way into the office and planted her little feet wide with her hands on her hips. Her bright blue eyes, so similar to her mother’s, were sparking with determination and she shook her dark curls behind her shoulders. Rosie had turned five last month. Millie knew that her party had been at Jamie’s house, as she had been invited – another surprise. Of course she couldn’t go. Apart from anything, she’d known He’d be there, and after the club incident Millie was avoiding Him at all costs. Something that had backfired spectacularly today.

  ‘You, young lady, have come to watch. I’ve come to check on Millie,’ Libby said, trying to gently draw Rosie to the side. The little girl, however, was not in the mood to be pushed aside. She shook off her mother’s hand and moved to Millie, climbing up into her lap and putting her strong little arms around her neck, before giving her a squeeze. Millie swallowed past a lump in her throat as she closed her arms around the warm curled body. Since she’d been babysitting for Libby (at first it was
in the mornings so that Libby could go to the ward round before the hospital nursery opened, but Rosie had since started school, which meant Millie was now only allowed the odd evening babysit) she had become used to Rosie’s affection. The only reason she’d even become sort-of friends with Libby was because Rosie had marched into Millie’s office a few months ago after Millie had refused a scan request from Libby, and asked her straight out why she was ‘being mean to my mummy?’. Libby had been mortified – she’d been trying to keep the child hidden behind the door whilst she asked for the scan (as a single mother and restricted by the nursery opening times Libby hadn’t had much choice), but Millie had been enchanted by the child from the start.

  In fact now she looked forward to the evenings Libby needed babysitting so much it was almost pathetic. The casual affection she found so difficult with other people came easily with Rosie. Maybe because the social cues Millie found impossible to interpret with adults were easier to read with this child; there was no artifice, no small talk, no double meanings. Everything was clear and on the table. Affection was genuine. Millie had no idea why the little girl had taken to her so much, but she was not going to turn her away. In the company of this child Millie almost felt normal, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time – if she was honest there was never really a time when the word normal would have applied to her.

  ‘Right, now you can fix her hand, Mummy,’ Rosie further bossed as she released Millie and slid off her lap. Libby rolled her eyes but smiled at her daughter.

  ‘Can I see?’ she asked Millie.

  ‘Listen, my hand’s fine. I don’t –’

  ‘That’s not what Pav told me, Millie,’ Libby said gently, and Millie let out a breath at the use of her Christian name. Everyone except these two and Don called her Dr Morrison. She absolutely hated it. It meant a lot to her that Libby called her Millie. Even her parents wouldn’t use the shortened version of her name, preferring instead the more formal Camilla.