The Nurse by J. Corrigan (list of ebook readers txt) 📕

need to dangle my tale in front of him, let him know I’m willing to give him everything. Or nearly everything. Eventually I hope he will be able to help me discover if what Bella has told me is true.

I start to write the beginning of my story for him.

My first meeting with Daniel Deane, in a restaurant in Nottingham.

A day in the spring of 1991. The day I fell desperately in love.

6

29 March 1991

Leaning against the serving station, I slugged back a double espresso. Christ, I hoped Noah couldn’t see me. Absolutely nothing should pass my lips whilst on duty. Normally I’d have snuck down to the storeroom to drink it, but I didn’t have time. Busy day. My section was packed. Good Friday, and the property tycoons of Nottingham were out in force ordering enchiladas and champagne. What a disgusting mixture, just like most of the men in there. Some came in with colleagues, some with girlfriends, some with mistresses. None of them ever seemed to bring a wife.

As I scanned the tables, my line of vision moved towards the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the parking area, settling on a gleaming white car. Roof down. Deep crimson leather seats. One monthly payment on that car would equal my yearly medical grant. I sucked in my tummy, preparing to give them what they all wanted. A smile and the promise of a chance. The job was all about the huge tips. Times were good for the diners of Mussels, even if they weren’t for the rest of the country. Sky-high interest rates had divided the nation into the quarter per cent and the rest. The rest didn’t come here for the microscopic enchiladas and champagne, and to be honest, they were the sensible ones.

I was in a bad mood, which wasn’t unusual. The fourth year of med school was killing me, and I was falling behind; even though I possessed a photographic memory, I was a long way from being a genius. I had to work hard, and to survive I spent too much time at Mussels. But as I sauntered over towards my section – always look as if work isn’t a problem, Noah had advised on my very first shift – I admitted that that last thought wasn’t strictly true. I could survive financially; my mum couldn’t. A thirty-quid tip saw her through a week’s grocery shopping.

From the corner of my eye I saw Miles lifting his arm to get my attention. He wasn’t sitting in his normal place by the window at a table for two; today he’d taken a table for four. He must be expecting people to join him. I was intrigued as to who they might be. Miles was a quiet and distinguished-looking bloke, a doctor at the local private hospital and one of the nicer guys who frequented Mussels. He always wore a jacket and tie, his hair perfectly cut – short at the back but with length at the fringe, which he swept to the side in a very pleasing way – and he was the epitome of good manners. Sometimes I noticed an oddness about him; nothing creepy, only that on a couple of occasions he’d seemed a little out of it, his words not quite coordinating with his expression, as if he were drunk or something. But he wasn’t a drinker – strictly an orange juice or water customer.

I made my way over. ‘Hi, Miles. You expecting people today?’

He looked up and gave me a massive smile. He really wasn’t a bad-looking bloke. Just not my type. And too old for me anyway. ‘I am, Rose. My boss, actually. You don’t mind me taking this table?’

‘Course I don’t. Want to order a drink while you’re waiting?’ Miles wasn’t the most laid-back of men, but today he looked even more uptight than normal.

‘Orange juice would be good, thank you.’

‘What’s your boss’s poison?’

‘Daniel’ll have a tonic water.’

I went and placed the drinks order at the bar. Served a few more tables, then picked up the juice and tonic water to take to Miles. As I turned away after putting the two glasses on the table, I bumped into a man I assumed was his boss.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. The man gave a huge kind smile and my eyes lingered for a moment on his calm, and definitely not unpleasant features. He was a similar height to me, slim but not skinny. Dressed casually, but well thought out. A dark grey fitted shirt, no tie, chocolate-coloured trousers, tan leather shoes. Everything matched in that thrown-together-but-not-really way. Dark eyes, jet-black hair, greying at the right temple only, but no older than thirty-five. Against all my instincts, my stomach pulled.

He looked at me, really looked, and my gut inverted. Then he sat down at the table and picked up his drink. ‘Thanks, Miles.’

‘Cheers, Daniel.’ They clinked glasses.

‘You both ready to order food?’ I asked, at the same time clearing away a half-drunk glass of wine from the next table.

‘I’m okay,’ Daniel said. ‘You?’ he asked Miles.

‘Just a bowl of olives,’ Miles replied.

‘Great. Won’t be long.’ I turned quickly, wanting to get away. Miles’s boss had unsettled me, although not in a bad way, I had to admit.

‘Whoa, slow down!’

I’d collided with a customer, and the half-glass of wine was now all over his shirt. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said again – I was so bloody clumsy today – and began brushing ineffectually at the spreading stain.

‘Hey, I like that.’ He grabbed hold of my bum, his fingers startlingly close to where my legs met my groin. I pushed him away. Bloody punters.

It was then I noticed the snake tattoos running down each of his fingers. What a creep. His face was a bright and alarming red, and he had future heart attack scribbled all over him; wouldn’t last to his late fifties. I really hoped the statistics were right, although I hated myself for even thinking it. It was not the thought