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luck with the flat-hunt?’

      ‘None,’ Alison admitted. ‘Well, there was one flat that I could just about afford but it needs a kitchen.’

      ‘You could live without a nice kitchen for a while,’ Ellie pointed out.

      ‘There’s a hole in the side wall where the kitchen burnt down.’ Alison managed a wry laugh as she recalled the viewing, the initial optimism as she’d walked through the small but liveable lounge, and then the sheer frustration as the renovator’s delight that she’d thought she had found had turned out to be uninhabitable. ‘It’s impossible…’ Alison carried on, but she’d lost her audience because Dr Long Legs had caught up, and Ellie, who never missed an opportunity to flirt, called over to him and he fell in step beside them.

      ‘This is Alison. Alison, this is Nick,’ Ellie said, and none-too-discreetly gave her friend a nudge that said he was the Nick. ‘He’s with us for a couple of months.’

      ‘Hi, Nick,’ Alison said, and then to salvage herself, she gave him a smile. ‘We met on the bus.’

      ‘We did.’

      ‘Anyone new tends to stand out—it’s a pretty regular lot on the six a.m.,’ Alison added, just to make it clear why she’d noticed him!

      ‘Alison’s flat-hunting,’ Ellie said.

      ‘Shoebox-hunting,’ Alison corrected.

      At twenty-four it was high past the time when she should have left home. Yes, most of her friends still lived at home and had no intention of leaving in a rush, but her friends didn’t have Rose as a mother, who insisted on a text if she was going to be ten minutes late, and as for staying out for the night—well, for the stress it caused her mother it was easier just to go home.

      Alison had moved out at eighteen to share a house with some other nursing students but at the end of her training, just as she’d been about to set off for a year of travel that her mother had pleaded she didn’t take, her brother and father had died in an accident. Of course, she had moved straight back home, but though it had seemed right and necessary at the time, three years on Alison was beginning to wonder if her being there was actually hindering her mother from moving on. House-sharing no longer appealed and so the rather fruitless search for her own place had commenced.

      ‘There are a couple of places I’ve seen that are nice and in my price range,’ Alison sighed, ‘but they’re miles from the beach.’

      ‘You’re a nurse…’ Ellie laughed. ‘You can’t afford bay views.’

      ‘I don’t need a view,’ Alison grumbled, ‘but walking distance to the beach at least…’ She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she was so used to having the beach a five-minute walk away that it was going to be harder to give up than coffee.

      ‘I’m on Alison’s side.’ Nick joined right in with the conversation. ‘I’m flat-sitting for a couple I know while they’re back in the UK.’ He told her the location and Alison let out a low whistle because anything in that street was stunning. ‘It’s pretty spectacular. I’ve never been a beach person, but I’m walking there every morning or evening—and sitting on the balcony at night…’

      ‘It’s not just the view, though,’ Alison said. They were walking through Emergency now. ‘It’s just…’ She didn’t really know how to explain it. It wasn’t just the beach either—it was her walks on the cliffs, her coffee from the same kiosk in the morning, her cherry and ricotta strudel at her favourite café. She didn’t want to leave it, her mother certainly didn’t want her to leave either, but, unless she was going to live at home for ever, unless she was going to be home by midnight every night or constantly account for her movements, she wanted somewhere close enough to home but far enough to live her own life.

      ‘I’m going to get a drink before…’ He gave her a smile as they reached the female change rooms. ‘I look forward to working with you.’

      ‘Told you!’ Ellie breathed as they closed the doors. ‘I told you, didn’t I?’

      ‘You did,’ Alison agreed, tying up her long brown hair and pulling on her lanyard. ‘Have you got my stethoscope?’

      ‘That’s all that you’ve got to say?’

      ‘Ellie, yes, you did tell me and, yes, for once you haven’t exaggerated. He’s completely stunning, but right now I need my stethoscope back.’ She certainly didn’t need to be dwelling on the gorgeous Nick Roberts who was there for just a few weeks and already had every woman completely under his spell.

      ‘Here.’ Ellie handed back the stethoscope she had yet again borrowed. ‘Have a look at him on Facebook—there’s one of him bungee-jumping and he’s upside down and his T-shirt’s round his neck…’ Ellie grinned as Alison rolled her eyes. ‘There’s no harm in looking.’

      Ellie raced off to the staffroom, ready to catch up on all the gossip, and for a moment Alison paused, catching sight of her reflection—brown hair, serious brown eyes, neat figure, smart navy pants and white top. Her image just screamed sensible. Too sensible by far for the likes of Nick. Yes, he was a fine specimen and all that, but he also knew it and Alison was determined not to give him the satisfaction of joining his rather large throng of admirers.

      He was sitting in the staffroom as he had on the bus, with his long legs sprawled out, drinking a large mug of tea and leading the conversation as if he’d been there for years instead of one week, regaling them all with his exploits—the highlight a motorbike ride through the outback—which did nothing to impress Alison. In fact, the very thought made her shudder and prompted a question.

      ‘How is that guy from last week?’ Alison turned to Ellie. ‘Did you follow him up?’

      ‘What one?’

      ‘Just as I went off last Sunday—the young guy on the motorbike?’ And then she stopped, realising it sounded rude, perhaps a touch inappropriate given Nick’s subject matter, though she hadn’t meant it to. Nick had just reminded her to ask.

      ‘We didn’t have any ICU beds,’ one of the other staff answered, ‘so he was transferred.’

      ‘Thanks,’ Alison said, looking up at the clock, and so did everyone else, all heading out for handover.

      She really didn’t want to like him.

      He unsettled her for reasons she didn’t want to examine and she hoped he was horrible to work with—arrogant, or dismissive with the patients. Unfortunately, he was lovely.

      ‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time,’ she heard him say to some young surfer who had cut his arm on the rocks. Nick was stitching as Alison came in to give the young man his tetanus shot. ‘I want to cram in as much as I can while I’m here.’

      ‘Come down in the morning,’ surfer boy said. ‘I’ll give you some tips.’

      ‘Didn’t I just tell you to keep the wound clean and dry? ‘Nick admonished, and then grinned. ‘I guess salt water’s good for it, though. I’ll look forward to it.’

      ‘You’re going surfing with him?’ Alison blinked.

      ‘He lives near me and who better to teach me than a local?’ Nick said. ‘Do you?’

      ‘Do I what?’

      ‘Surf.’

      Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Because I’m Australian?’

      ‘No,’ he said slowly, those green eyes meeting hers. ‘Because you want to.’ And she stood there for a moment, felt her cheeks darken, felt for just a moment as if he was looking at her, not staid, sensible Alison but the woman she had once been, or rather the woman she had almost become, the woman who was in there, hiding.

      ‘If I wanted to, I would,’ Alison replied, and somehow, despite the wobble in her soul, her voice was even. ‘I’ve got a beach on my doorstep after all.’

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