Free Emergency at Bayside by Carol Marinelli Page A

their bathers, apart from the skimpy sarong wrapped around Meg, the waiting room hadn’t seemed an appropriate place to send Rita. Anyway, Meg was desperate for a long cool drink and was sure Rita could use one.
    ‘Just my husband—he’s going to have a fit when I tell him.’ Her hand was shaking as she picked up the telephone. ‘Do you think Toby will need an operation?’
    ‘Yes.’ Meg said simply. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on Toby to try and repair it under local anaesthetic. Do you want me to dial for you?’
    Rita nodded. ‘Useless, aren’t I?’
    Meg shook her head. ‘Don’t say that. You’re his mum; you’re allowed to be upset.’
    As predicted, Toby’s dad didn’t take the news too well, and after Rita had ducked off to the toilet for another quick cry Meg took the opportunity to ring her mother. Mary wasn’t in the best of moods either.
    ‘You just can’t stay away from trouble, can you? And you haven’t even had lunch. How can you do a full shift without a morsel of food in your stomach and no work clothes?’
    ‘I’ve got some spare shoes here, and I can wear Theatre gear. I’ll be fine,’ Meg assured her.
    ‘Fine, my foot.’ Not the greatest choice of words. ‘I’ll bring you up a Thermos of soup.’
    ‘Please, Mum, don’t bother. I’m okay. Honestly,’ she added, but with zero effect.
    ‘Tell that to the patients when you’re fainting over them. I’ll warm it up and bring it straight over. Do you need anything else?’
    Meg looked down at her blood-splattered sarong and her sand-dusted legs. ‘A toiletry bag would be nice.’
    ‘I’m on my way.’
    ‘Where’s Rita?’ Jess popped her head around the door.
    ‘In the loo. How’s Toby doing?’
    ‘He’s going straight up to Theatre. The plastics had a quick look and they want to get him up now. They need her to come and sign the consent form. How are you?’
    Meg stood up. ‘Desperate for a shower. If my mum comes can you ask her just to drop all my stuff in the changing room? I’ll be round to start my shift when I’m looking a bit more presentable.’
    ‘Sure. Take your time, Meg. I reckon you’ve earned it.’
    Rita appeared then, and Meg left them to it. Her shift hadn’t even started and already she felt as if she’d done a day’s work.
    ‘There you are.’ Flynn loomed into view. ‘Where’s Toby’s mother? The plastics need her to—’
    ‘Sign the consent,’ Meg finished for him. ‘I know—Jess is already onto it. I’m just heading off for a shower.’
    ‘Oh.’ For the first time since her arrival he actually managed to look at her, his eyes flicking down her body. For the last half-hour Meg had been wandering around barefoot, her modesty protected only by a sheer sunflower-emblazoned sarong, yet totally unabashed. Now, under Flynn’s scrutiny, she suddenly felt exposed and woefully inadequately dressed.
    ‘There wasn’t really time to get changed first,’ Meg joked feebly.
    ‘Of course not.’
    His eyes were looking somewhere at the top of her forehead as he cleared his throat, and Meg could have sworn that the beginning of a blush was creeping over his usually deadpan face. She should have gone then—nodded politely and dashed to the refuge of the changing rooms. But for some reason her legs simply wouldn’t obey her and she stood there mute, staring back at him, forcing his eyes to meet hers.
    ‘How was the beach—before all this happened, I mean?’
    ‘Wonderful.’
    Something strange was going on. Something strange and delicious. An apparently sedate, normal conversation was taking place, but there was nothing normal about the white-hot look passing between them, and definitely nothing sedate about the pulse flickering relentlessly between her thighs or the sudden swell of her nipples, jutting against the flimsy fabric of her sarong, inching their way closer to Flynn with a will of their own.
    His hand moved up to her face. Meg didn’t flinch, just stood there. The pad of his thumb