A Perfect Hero by Caroline Anderson

remind herself that it wasn’t all a wonderful, fleeting dream.
    She was almost late on duty in the morning. Mary O’Brien arrived as she did, and Clare was certain the keen-eyed woman would miss nothing of the meteoric changes that must be echoed in her eyes. As it was she gave her a cursory glance, a friendly smile and said, ‘Good weekend? You’ve caught the sun.’
    Clare blushed. ‘Lovely, thank you. How was yours?’
    ‘Oh, busy. Had my daughter for the weekend with the baby. Honestly, Clare, I’d forgotten how much running around you have to do. Goodness knows how I coped with four!’
    They laughed, and went into the office, where the night sister was getting ready to give the report.
    ‘Morning, all,’ Sister O’Brien said cheerfully. ‘OK, Sister Price, what’s been going on?’
    One of the elderly ladies with a hip replacement had had a pulmonary embolus and was on Heparin, another was showing signs of pressure sores because she had been bed-ridden for so long. She was to be got up and kept up as much as she could tolerate it, and the physiotherapist was working on getting her mobile as quickly as possible.
    Tina White had gone, transferred to Stoke Mandeville over the weekend by helicopter, and Pete Sawyer was progressing well, although it was too soon to tell if the bone graft would do its job.
    Danny, as usual, had been a total pain in the neck.
    ‘The sooner we get him up and out the better for everyone, I think!’ Sister Price said with a laugh. ‘Apart from that, there are two new admissions—Mrs Wright, a fifty-seven-year-old lady with a fracture of the left femoral neck following a fall, which Mr Mayhew pinned yesterday, and Mr Jones. He’s forty-two, and was brought in with cracked ribs and a clean fractureof the radius which has been immobilised in a cast. He’ll probably go home today. Right, I think that’s it—I’m off to bed. Have a lovely day!’
    Sister O’Brien detailed Clare to do a training round with the two first-year nurses on the care of patients in traction. She was in the first bay with the elderly patients discussing the importance of meticulous treatment of pressure areas when Michael appeared.
    ‘Everything all right, Staff?’ he asked with a wicked grin.
    ‘Fine, thank you, Mr Barrington.’ She made herself smile normally.
    ‘Good. I’ll catch up with you later—there’s a new procedure I’ve been wanting to try out—perhaps we could discuss it over lunch?’
    She struggled against the blush and failed. ‘I would think that would be fine.’
    ‘Excellent. One o’clock in the coffee lounge?’ He gave her flushed skin a sympathetic glance. ‘Warm in here, isn’t it?’
    He sauntered off, whistling, to say hello to the lady who had been his first patient. The nurses watched him adoringly. Clare was disgusted and insanely jealous. Damn it, they were almost drooling!
    ‘If I could have your attention, ladies?’ she said with rather more sarcasm than she had intended, and they apologised and gave her their undivided attention—which actually made things rather difficult, as Clare’s thoughts had gone off at a decided tangent.
    ‘Sue, perhaps you could recap for us?’ she said in a moment of inspiration.
    The morning dragged. Clare switched her lunch break with Sister O’Brien, and was in the coffee lounge waiting when Michael came in with Tim Mayhew atfive past one, deep in conversation. He saw Clare, excused himself and came over to her.
    ‘Hi,’ he said softly. ‘Sorry I’m late. Have you eaten?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Come on, then, let’s go and get something.’
    When they were seated, she asked, ‘So what was this new procedure, then?’
    He gave a short, husky laugh. ‘I though we’d discuss that later over supper at my place——’
    She flushed as his meaning dawned on her. ‘I changed my lunch break to come down here and meet you!’
    He reached out and took her hand, ignoring all the interested glances they were getting.