LITMIR.BIZ

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needed to leave.

      He drained the dregs of his coffee, pushed his chair back and stood. ‘Will you be able to find your way back to your office? I need to speak to Freya.’ He knew he was making excuses but he needed to get away. He needed to break the spell he could feel her casting over him.

      His departure was abrupt, and he could see from Abi’s puzzled expression that she thought so too but she didn’t complain or argue. She just nodded silently. It appeared she wasn’t much of a talker.

      He did genuinely want to speak to Freya—he felt she needed to know about Clementine Jones, though he knew she would have heard the alarm and the code-blue call—but he suffered a moment of guilt over his hasty exit. He pushed those thoughts to one side as he knocked on Freya’s door and then brought her up to speed on the emergency.

      ‘Clementine was booked in for a breast enlargement but she has a long-standing eating disorder that probably triggered her cardiac arrest. She’s in the DOU under Geoff’s care now, but she needs counselling. I know you’re only taking on a handful of clients but this girl needs to be included on your list. She’s playing Russian roulette at the moment. It’s only a matter of time before she’s a statistic instead of a person. If she won’t see you then she needs to see another psychologist. James is her admitting surgeon but I’m sure he’ll agree.’

      Freya nodded. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘So you were first on the scene?’

      ‘With Abi.’ He had to give credit where it was due.

      ‘You resuscitated her together?’

      Damien nodded.

      ‘Now do you think she can handle the job?’

      He needed Abi to pull her weight. He’d fought to have an extra surgeon on staff to ease some of his caseload but his first impressions had worried him. He hadn’t thought her old enough or strong enough to help him but he had to admit he had revised his opinion. He would give her the benefit of the doubt now after the composure she had displayed during the emergency. ‘I’ll agree I’m more confident now,’ he replied.

      ‘Good.’ Freya nodded. ‘Because James wants her to assist you in Theatre tomorrow. That will give her a feel for how the clinic runs and also give you a chance to assess her skills. Once you’re happy we’ll start to give her patients of her own, which will free up some of your time.’

      Damien was happy with that. He was exhausted and had far too much on his plate. There were far too many things fighting for his attention. He had too much else to think about at the moment. He was virtually a single parent, raising a young daughter, and he had more work than he could handle. He couldn’t work twenty-four-seven—it wasn’t feasible and it was not what he wanted. Abi’s appointment needed to be successful. She had to work out and if she didn’t she’d have to go. It was as simple as that.

      * * *

      Abi’s head was spinning as she pulled her 4x4 into the driveway and hit the button for the automatic garage door. She needed time to think about her day and what had happened. What she’d seen, what she’d done, who she’d met. She would collect Jonty and they’d go for a walk. That would give her time to sort through her thoughts on the clinic, on Freya and on Damien.

      The motor of the garage door made a distinctive whine as it kicked into gear and Abi could see Jonty racing across the lawn to greet her as she eased her car forward. A wave of guilt washed over her as she saw how eager he was to welcome her home. This was the first day that she and Jonty had been parted. She wondered if his day had been less eventful than hers. Was this how working mothers felt? At least she’d organised company for him. He shouldn’t have been lonely but she still hoped he’d missed her.

      She closed the door and made a beeline for her landlords’ bungalow at the front of the property. Her landlords, George and Irma, were a retired couple in their late sixties and Abi rented their converted garage apartment. She had moved in about six weeks ago and had since found herself adopted by George and Irma as part of the family. She didn’t mind; she was enjoying feeling like she was part of a family. They had adopted her dog too, offering to keep him company while Abi returned to work. She wished she’d been able to take Jonty with her, for her sake more than his, but the clinic was no place for a large, hairy, golden retriever.

      ‘How did your first day go?’ Irma asked as Abi stepped onto the back porch. ‘Not quite what I expected,’ she replied. ‘But I’m sure it will be okay.’ She still needed time to process the day’s events. The Hills was different from what she was used to, very different, and even if she wasn’t sure that she would be suited to working there she suspected it would be interesting, albeit slightly more routine than the army. But perhaps that was just what she needed—ordinary and routine, excluding the odd cardiac arrest, of course.

      ‘I’ve made an extra-large pot of chilli beef. Would you like to eat with us tonight? You must be tired.’

      Abi was more than happy to be looked after by Irma. She knew her fridge was bare and dinner at her place was likely to be toast and maybe a packet soup. But more than the dinners it was the feeling that someone was interested in her and cared enough to make sure she was fed. She’d never experienced that on a regular basis. Growing up, her family life had been erratic, to say the least. Swings and roundabouts. Her mother had done her best at times but she really hadn’t coped with the real world and Abi didn’t remember her father. And army life, while she’d been looked after, she suspected was also very different to normal family life. George and Irma missed the company of their children and Abi enjoyed filling that void. It was nice to feel normal.

      ‘That sounds delicious. Have I got time to take Jonty for a quick walk first?’

      ‘Of course.’

      Above the garage George had added a bedroom, small bathroom and a kitchen/living area that opened out onto a deck that overlooked a small park. Jonty loved exploring the park but Abi avoided it once the sun had set. She needed milk for her morning coffee so she changed quickly into a pair of black exercise leggings, a long-sleeved black T-shirt and a bright pink, puffy, padded, insulated vest. She wrapped an orange scarf around her neck, shoved her phone and some coins into her pocket and clipped Jonty’s lead to his collar. They’d make a quick dash to the mini-mart two blocks away. She let Jonty go to the toilet before they left as once he had his coat on he would know not to stop unless she directed him to. She fastened his coat around his body and headed out to the street.

      Jonty had been assigned to Abi on her return from Afghanistan, on her psychologist’s recommendation. According to Caroline, many of her patients who had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder found that an assistance dog brought enormous benefits, and Abi had to admit that she was grateful for Jonty’s companionship. She’d never had a dog, she’d never had any pets before, but she had very quickly grown attached to Jonty. She was a dog person, she’d decided.

      Jonty had been assigned to help calm her and to increase her confidence in her ability to cope with the outside world, but nervousness still made her heart rate increase as they approached the supermarket. Ever since the incident in Afghanistan she had been exceedingly nervous in new or crowded environments until she’d had a chance to check out the lie of the land.

      She quickly scanned the interior of the shop and only when she could see that it was relatively quiet, with few customers, did she step inside, taking Jonty with her. He was allowed to accompany her so long as he was wearing the coat that identified him as an assistance dog. They headed to the milk fridge at the back of the store, Abi wishing, not for the first time, that the shopkeeper would keep the milk near the front. Having to go to the far corner of the store always bothered her, even though she knew where the emergency exit was.

      A dark-haired man stood in front of the open fridge door. He was reaching for the same milk that Abi wanted. She thought about asking him to grab one for her too but that would mean initiating a conversation with a stranger. Even with Jonty beside her she wasn’t comfortable doing that. She waited as the man closed the fridge door and turned around.

      ‘Dr Thompson!’

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