Dreaming. CHARLOTTE LAMBЧитать онлайн книгу.
He grimaced. ‘In fact, I know I wouldn’t be! I’m petrified of having his sort of injuries. That’s probably why I specialised in skin surgery. My father was badly burnt in an explosion in a chemical works when I was ten, and I’ve never forgotten seeing him a week or so later. I had nightmares for years afterwards, kept dreaming it was me under the bandages.’
Luisa looked fixedly at him, her blue eyes as dark as gentians in the shadowy light of her office. ‘Poor David, how frightening it must have been for you at such an early age.’ He had never told her this story before and it revealed a lot about him that she had never suspected.
A little flushed, he laughed and got up, shrugging. ‘Yes...well...I must go. I’m going home now. I’ve run out of bodies in the theatre so I might as well get some sleep. See you tomorrow. Looking forward to it?’
Luisa lit up, smiling. ‘Oh, yes. I haven’t been to a dance for ages and I love dancing. I’m going to buy a new dress tomorrow, too!’
‘To go out with me? I’m flattered!’ He grinned down at her, a head taller than her, his attractive face warm, yet still set in lines of exhaustion and weariness.
Luisa didn’t manage to get out to do her shopping until quite late on Saturday afternoon, but there was only one good dress shop in Whinbury so she would not need much time in which to make her choice. She was lucky: there was a ravishing dark blue silk dress with a low-cut bodice and a stand-up ruff of lace at the back. The dress was long-skirted with a trio of rustling pale pink lace petticoats under it, and a pale pink silk rose pinned to the waist. Luisa loved the feel of the frou-frou of petticoats around her legs as she walked.
‘It has a sort of Victorian look, doesn’t it?’ said the girl who sold it to her. ‘Your hairstyle goes with it. Very classy, that chignon. Of course some of them wore ringlets in Victorian days, too, but I think that was the young girls, not ladies of your age.’
Luisa laughed without amusement. The girl was probably not even twenty; no doubt to her Luisa’s twenty-seven years did seem pretty ancient, but it left Luisa feeling as if she had suddenly aged without noticing it. Twenty-seven wasn’t that old! Why shouldn’t she wear her hair in ringlets if she liked? Victorian, indeed!
When she got home she had a bath, washed her hair, and spent some time curling it into Victorian-style ringlets with some electric hair tongs she had once been given, but rarely used.
Once she was dressed for the dance she stood in front of her mirror, biting her lip. The new style certainly made her look different! In fact, it changed her whole appearance. She went pink. What on earth had she done to herself? She felt ridiculous and would have tried to restore her hair to normal if David hadn’t arrived while she was still trying to make up her mind what to do.
He did a double take, staring. ‘Luisa? Good heavens! I hardly recognised you. Your hair...’
Luisa groaned. ‘It looks awful, doesn’t it? I don’t know what on earth made me do it! But—’
‘I love it!’
She blinked uncertainly. ‘You do?’
‘It’s perfect with that dress.’ He held out his well-shaped hand, his brown eyes warm. ‘And that is a very sexy dress, let me say!’
She laughed, but went pink, and David smiled down at her, holding her slender fingers lightly. ‘The blush is sexy, too.’
‘Don’t you make fun of me, David Hallows!’ she protested, even more flushed.
‘I’m not, I mean it. When you go pink like that you look very female. I suppose it makes me feel you need protecting...’
‘In this day and age?’ she asked incredulously.
He grimaced. ‘Oh, I know it’s an out of date attitude—opening doors for a woman, standing up when she comes into a room...OK, it’s laughed at these days. But I’m an old-fashioned guy. I like the difference between a man and a woman and I don’t see why I should apologise for that.’
‘Neither do I,’ she said, smiling at him because they had worked together long enough for her to know that he was no put-down artist. He didn’t treat women as dolls—far from it. He’d always treated her with respect and grave equality.
He smiled back. ‘That’s what first attracted me to you,’ he surprised her by saying. ‘Your femininity.’
Luisa stared in surprise. He had never told her that before. She had often wondered how he had managed to reach the age of thirty-five without marrying because he was attractive and popular with the other nurses. He had had other girlfriends, but the relationships had all fizzled out in the end. Maybe the long hours he had to work, the intense concentration of the job, always came between him and anyone he dated?
He usually looked relaxed and casual, even in his ward-walking suits, because he was not the authoritarian type of surgeon of an earlier generation. David was too laid-back for that; his warm smile and easy-going manner made him the most liked of all the doctors. But tonight he, too, looked different: very distinguished in his evening suit. The black jacket and trousers made him look very slim; the white shirt and immaculate black tie gave him a touch of glamour he did not normally have.
His mouth curled in amusement. ‘Are you looking me over, Luisa? Or have I put you off by admitting I like feminine girls?’
She laughed, shaking her head.
He tightened his grip on her hand and drew her closer, bending his head. Luisa instinctively lifted her face to meet his kiss, but, even as their lips met, behind them in her flat the telephone rang and they froze, looked at each other, grimacing.
‘Don’t answer it!’ David said, and she laughed.
‘You know I must! It may be my father.’
David groaned. ‘Famous last words!’
It wasn’t her father; it was the hospital. She sighed and turned, holding out the phone to David. ‘Sorry,’ she said as he reluctantly took it.
‘I won’t say I told you so!’
He curtly said into the phone, ‘Hallows here.’ Then listened, brows pulling together. ‘How long has that been happening?’
Luisa stood watching him, her hands unconsciously playing with her short black velvet evening jacket. If David was being summoned back to the theatre she would not be going to the dance.
He put the phone down and turned to make a wry face at her. ‘I told you not to answer it!’
‘I thought you weren’t on call!’
‘I’m not, but one of my patients has been waiting for an op. for three days because his condition simply wasn’t stable enough for me to risk it. Tonight they think he has stabilised, but Colin Dawkins doesn’t like to risk doing an op. on his own opinion; he wants me to pop in and take a look at the guy and back him up before he gives the go-ahead.’
‘And he’d really rather you did the op. yourself!’ Luisa said drily.
David laughed. ‘I expect he would. He’s simply terrified of taking a risk, that fellow.’
‘Does this mean no dance?’
‘Certainly not! No, we’ll be going, but I suppose I’d better make a detour en route and drop by the hospital to see this patient and decide whether Colin ought to operate or not.’
‘It might be wiser to wait until tomorrow, anyway.’
David’s mouth indented. ‘Hmm. This is a dodgy one, though. Not sure he can afford to wait. But I’ll see.’
When they reached the hospital David asked, ‘Wait here for me?’ but she shook her head, smiling at him.
‘You may be gone for ages. No, I’ll come in and stop off at my ward to have a cup of coffee with Sister Jenkins.’
‘And show off your dress?’ he teased,