Once a Playboy…. Kate Hardy
of drifting off into a daydream when she was supposed to be concentrating on writing up her notes. Especially as it took her nearly a week to finish the chocolates, they were so rich—and every single one of them made her think of kissing him. Of the way he’d scrambled her brains.
But in the end, on the Monday morning, she chickened out. As much as she wanted to see George again, he was just too dangerous for her peace of mind. She texted him at the beginning of her shift. Thank you for the offer of lunch tomorrow, but I’m afraid I can’t make it. Serena.
She gave no excuses, leaving him no opening for negotiation. And she deliberately didn’t give him an alternative, as he’d suggested.
Dating George Somers was a lovely daydream. But the reality would be something else. It could get complicated. Messy. So it was better not to start something they couldn’t finish. Much more sensible; and Serena was always sensible, nowadays. There was no way she’d let her little boy be caught in the middle of any emotional upheaval. He was too important.
Thank you for the offer of lunch tomorrow, but I’m afraid I can’t make it. Serena.
George stared at the message. He knew it was probably for the best. She was right in that they were from different worlds—and, the last time he’d tried dating someone not from his world, it had ended in misery for both of them. So he’d be better off just forgetting her.
Except he couldn’t.
That beautiful mouth haunted him. A couple of kisses just weren’t enough. He wanted to see those gorgeous green eyes glittering with laughter. And he wanted to feel her mouth on his again, explore her sweetness. Bring her out of herself and see just who she was behind her shell.
The sensible side of him knew he ought to leave it well alone.
The reckless side of him couldn’t possibly resist the challenge.
Serena always kept her phone off while she was at work; if there was an emergency at school, she knew that the teachers would ring through to Reception and her colleagues would pass on the message immediately. She switched her phone on again when her shift finished, and there were no beeps to say that she’d received any messages.
Oh.
So George hadn’t bothered replying to her text.
She stifled the faint ache of disappointment. Well, she’d been proved right. George hadn’t been that interested. Or maybe he’d been having second thoughts, too, and realised that she just wasn’t right for him; in which case her message must’ve been a welcome relief for him. And this feeling of being let down … well, that was plain ridiculous.
This was all for the best. She knew that.
But Serena still felt out of sorts the next day. It made her cross with herself; though she wasn’t sure if she was more cross with herself for being a coward and ducking out of the date in the first place, or for being light-headed enough to think that someone like George Somers would really want to date someone like her.
So she coped with it the way she always did, by throwing herself into work. Her first patient, Janet Riley, was a new patient and suffered from Parkinson’s.
Serena introduced herself with a smile. ‘Your consultant has sent you to me so I can assess your balance and mobility. I’m going to do something called a Berg test, which looks at a range of different movements—well, it’s called a test, but it isn’t anything that you’ll pass or fail. What it does is to help me see which things you find easy to do and which movements you find more difficult, so I can recommend support where you need it. It’ll be part of your annual assessments from now on, and today’s results will be a benchmark so we can see how and where things change, to make sure you get the right help you need.’
‘I’m fine, really. I don’t want to make a fuss,’ Janet said.
‘You’re not making a fuss,’ Serena reassured her. Though she knew where Janet was coming from. She didn’t like making a fuss, either. And she hated the fact that she still felt so thrown by George. That she was still wishing she’d been brave enough to have lunch with him, even though at the same time she knew she’d done the sensible thing.
She took Janet through the fourteen different tests. Moving from a sitting position to standing was a problem; Serena made a note for the occupational health team to look at the chairs at Janet’s home to see if they needed to be raised to make standing up easier, as well as possibly installing grab rails for the bathroom and toilet. Janet clearly also found it difficult to turn and look behind and to place an alternate foot on a stool—stairs might also need looking at, Serena noted. And retrieving an object from the floor took more effort and time than was comfortable for Janet.
‘We have group exercise sessions here especially for people who find balance a little tricky. I think you’d benefit from them,’ she said. ‘The exercises will help with your balance, strength and suppleness.’
‘But I’ve only just been diagnosed,’ Janet said.
‘That’s a good time to start,’ Serena said with a smile, ‘because it means we can keep you going at this level for a lot longer. We have several groups, all at different levels, so you won’t feel like the odd one out. Just come along to the first one and give it a try,’ she coaxed.
Janet bit her lip. ‘I don’t want to make a fuss.’
‘You’re not making a fuss,’ Serena reassured her again. ‘And the big thing is that it’ll help you keep your independence.’
Something that Serena herself valued highly—and something she’d find incredibly difficult to give up. Carving out a successful career as well as bringing up her son as a single parent meant that she was used to being in control. Having to lean on someone else now would be unthinkable.
Janet looked thoughtful. ‘So I won’t have to get people to do things for me.’
Just as Serena had hoped: this was the key. Janet needed to feel independent. ‘Exactly. It’ll give you a chance to do more things the way you want to do them.’ She smiled at the older woman. ‘And then you won’t have to bite your tongue and feel ungrateful when someone does something for you and they don’t do it to your standards.’
Janet looked relieved. ‘So it’s normal to feel like that? I’ve felt so mean-spirited.’
‘It’s perfectly normal. I’d be the same,’ Serena reassured her. ‘So will you give it a try?’
Janet nodded.
‘Great.’ Serena booked her in for the session, wrote out an appointment card for her, and then wrote up her notes before seeing her next patient.
Lenny Rivers had a Colles’ fracture of the wrist. The same injury as George; and Serena was cross with herself for thinking of him. She forced herself to be calm and patient as she explained to Lenny, ‘I need to check the movements of your shoulder, first, as it can be damaged by a fall on the hand. Has your arm been in a sling?’
‘Not as much as it should’ve been,’ Lenny admitted, looking faintly guilty.
She smiled. Given that his arm hadn’t been kept that immobile, his elbow wouldn’t be a problem. ‘Let’s have a look.’ She examined him gently; the colour of his skin looked fine and there was no abnormal swelling, so he was healing nicely. ‘Your skin’s a bit dry, but that’s really common after you’ve been in plaster. If you use a gentle moisturiser or baby oil on your skin, that will help get rid of the dryness. Have you been in any pain?’
‘Not really.’
‘Good. You might find you do get some swelling, so if that happens all you need to do is elevate your arm a bit, maybe put an ice pack for up to fifteen minutes, four times a day. Though make sure the ice isn’t straight against your skin, or you could burn it,’ she warned.
‘It feels a bit strange with the plaster off,’ Lenny said. ‘I’m a bit scared to use it, in case I hurt it again.’