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'There's not much happening at my end at present,' the surgeon said heavily. 'Hopefully I'll be in touch soon.'

Hopefully.
When their conversation finished Annabel put down the telephone slowly and buried her face in her hands.

'Trouble at mill?' Geoffrey's cheery voice interrupted her reverie and she lifted her head and grimaced at him.

'We had to readmit Daisy Miller last night,' she explained. 'She's not doing particularly well and Tony doesn't sound overly optimistic about the chances of us getting her a heart any time soon.'

'How's she holding up?'

'Bright as a button as usual,' Annabel admitted. 'She can't even walk to the door of her room this morning but she's talking about heading off on a Harley Davidson around Australia with her new boyfriend.'

Geoffrey laughed. 'Sounds like Daisy,' he agreed. 'I'll keep my fingers crossed for her. Coming to St Joseph's?'

Annabel checked her watch quickly and nodded, pushing her chair back from the desk to go with him. He suddenly let out a soft whistle and she looked up at him in surprise, then promptly blushed when she realised his eyes had dropped.

'Geoffrey!' she chided, wrapping her doctor's coat around her to conceal her knees. 'They're just legs. Don't stare.'

'It's the first time I've ever seen them,' he protested, his eyes dancing. 'I was beginning to think you didn't have any.'

'It's just an old outfit I found in my wardrobe,' she murmured self-consciously. 'It's years since I've worn it. Since it's supposed to be warm today I thought it'd be nice to try something cooler.'

By her old standards the yellow outfit, with matching slim-fitting sleeveless tunic and skirt, had been conservative—she had vague memories of originally buying the outfit because she'd fallen in love with the colour rather than the style—and the skirt, at barely an inch above her knees, was hardly short.

But, given she rarely wore anything above her lower calves these days, she had been feeling a little bit uncomfortable. She'd been worried the colour clashed with her hair or that she might look like mutton dressed up as lamb, but Geoffrey's apparent approval lifted her confidence fractionally.

'You suit a bit of colour,' he told her appraisingly, his eyes twinkling as he opened the stairwell door for her. 'You look lovely.'

'Thank you.' She wasn't sure she believed him but even the small boost to her ego of him noticing helped. Feeling herself still blushing, Annabel rushed ahead of him. Now she thought about it, she rarely wore a lot of colour these days, she realised. Beige and creams, of course, and black, and she had one navy suit. She'd given away a lot of things around the time of her divorce to charity shops but there were still a few old favourites lurking about the house.

Tonight, if she wasn't busy on call, she vowed, she'd go through the attic and the spare room's wardrobe and drawers properly and see what else she'd saved from years ago. Perhaps she'd been rather silly, changing her appearance so drastically after Luke. She couldn't properly remember now why it had seemed so important at the time that she dress more sedately. Perhaps there were more clothes she could make use of now. And the same hairstyle could be boring after so many years. Perhaps she should let it grow a little again.

It was only the end of April, but in line with the weather forecaster's predictions on the radio that morning summer seemed to have arrived early. In her ten-minute lunch-break between her teaching session and the start of her clinic she met Harry outside in the hospital grounds for a chat over a sandwich in the sun.

Although in semi-retirement since Luke's arrival, Harry still planned to attend meetings and his Wednesday clinic every week. 'Luke seems to have taken over rather smoothly,' he mused, his complacent air suggesting he was happy to take full credit for the success of his replacement. 'The new budget was approved last weekend. He just faced up to the trust, refused to compromise and pushed until they gave in. I believe he's going to be very, very good for St Peter's. I only hope we can keep him here long term. What's your impression, Annabel?'

She sent him a wan look. 'I miss you.'

'Oh, you'll forget me soon enough. New broom and all that. It was time someone shook things up around here.' But Harry looked pleased.

If it was shaking Harry wanted then he couldn't have chosen a better man than Luke for the job, Annabel thought quietly, but she confined her response to a mute shrug.

What she couldn't put off, though, once her afternoon clinic was over, was trying to speak to Luke herself. As usual on a Wednesday, the session had gone on far longer than it should have and she was late getting away so she was expecting to have to get Luke's telephone number at his hotel from Switchboard. But one of the nurses in Outpatients mentioned she'd seen him walking through the area shortly before the end of Annabel's clinic so Annabel made her reluctant way up to Harry's old office in case she could catch him.

The door was closed and she knocked on it automatically, but his command to come in startled her a little because she hadn't really expected him to be there. She opened the door hesitantly, then stilled as she saw that the high leather back of his chair was swivelled away from her. He was talking on the telephone. He swung around in his chair, saw her, frowned in a distracted sort of way then motioned for her come in and wait, before swinging back towards the window again.

'Yes,' he said quietly, to whoever he was talking to. 'Fine.'

Flushing at the disturbing memory of their own telephone conversation the night before, Annabel ignored the signal he'd sent her directing her to the chair in front of his desk, and instead took a couple of shaky steps over to Harry's old bookshelves. She cast a quick eye over the stacks of titles, surprised to find that Luke had yet to make any changes to the collection of outdated journals and old textbooks Harry had found so hard to throw away.

Whomever he was talking to clearly had a lot to say, she noted. The conversation was definitely one-sided, with Luke's occasional contributions confined to the odd murmur or monosyllabic response, but then he said quietly, 'Next Saturday, then. Good. I'll organise it. I'll let you know the details and I'll collect you at Heathrow.' Annabel heard a very feminine expression of gratitude from the other end.

Annabel stared fixedly at Harry's shelves while the conversation ended—efficiently, thank God, with fondness but without any of the extended farewells and kisses and prolonged declarations of love she'd been steeling herself for—and when she heard the sound of Luke replacing the telephone she turned
around
slowly and
met
his quiet look head on, her expression rigid.

'Girlfriend, was it?' she asked in a brittle voice. 'I must say I was surprised when Harry first mentioned you were coming to London alone. Decided to wait until you were settled, before following you, did she? Is she staying permanently or is this just a quick visit first to see how she likes the place?'

'I was talking to my mother,' Luke said neutrally. 'It's twenty years next week since my father died and she's coming to spend some time at his grave. You look good.'

Annabel, abruptly self-conscious, folded her arms across her chest and lowered her head. 'It's old.' She dismissed his comment raggedly, refusing to admit that his criticism the night before might have had anything to do with her change of style. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'I'm sorry about your father. How is Rosemary these days?'

'Sentimental.'

'It's a good time of year for her to visit. I mean, not because of your father but because of the weather. It's not too cold at least now—'

'Is there a point,' Luke interrupted before she could finish, 'to this visit, Annabel? Or has our relationship advanced to the stage of enjoying social calls now?'

Annabel dropped her eyes. 'I wanted to ask your help with Daisy,' she told him after a few seconds. 'I'm worried by how fast she's deteriorating and I'd appreciate the chance to talk through her case in detail with you. I'd like you to review my management. I want to make sure I'm not missing something. I want to be certain there isn't something else I could be doing for her.'

'I'll need to see X-rays and ECHOs, as well as admission and outpatient notes from the time of her diagnosis.'

She nodded. 'Of course.' There was no other way he could do a thorough review. 'Her notes are about three feet thick but I've got them all, and any films not on the ward are in my office. She was referred directly to my predecessor here when she was fifteen.'

'Bring everything up, then.'

'You mean now?' It was late and the sort of review she was suggesting could take hours. She'd expected him to appoint a time in the next day or two.

'Why not? Paperwork can wait.' His white coat and suit jacket were slung over the other chair in the room, and now he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt with the air of a man settling down to business. 'You're not off home yet, are you? Aren't you on call tonight?'

'You're not,' she reminded him, swallowing heavily as his movements revealed a strong and familiar hair-roughened forearm. 'Luke, Daisy's not going to change overnight. I'm just grateful you're willing to do this. We can leave it till tomorrow. You must be tired after last night. I'm sure you're anxious to get home.'

'To a hotel room television and mini-bar?' he asked ironically. 'Relax, Annabel. I think I can pass on them for a couple more hours.'

Annabel stared at him. It hadn't occurred to her until then that he might be lonely. Not Luke. Never Luke. 'But you know loads of people in London,' she exclaimed. 'You must have dozens of friends wanting to catch up with you. Why on earth are you still staying in a hotel if you don't want to?'

'Convenience.' He finished rolling his second sleeve, and against the white of his shirt his arms looked tanned and healthy. She seemed to be having trouble dragging her eyes away from them. 'I'm putting in long hours at present,' he continued. 'At the hotel I'm only five minutes away from here. Once I'm settled I'll start looking for something permanent.'

'Look, if it's that horrible there—' She broke off, nibbling at her lower lip, sure she was going to be letting herself in for more heartache than she could live with but still not quite able to stop herself. 'Luke, you could stay at the house until Rosemary arrives.'

She'd met Luke's glamorous mother when she'd flown over from America for their wedding and she'd liked her at the time, although—considering the divorce—she would be too nervous about meeting Luke's mother again to have her stay at the house.

'It's almost as convenient and it's not as if there isn't room. I'm on call all weekend and I was planning to spend most of my time in here, doing paperwork. Also, if I'm not needed here on Saturday night I've got a fund-raising dinner to attend. You'd have the place to yourself. I know it's not luxurious and I know you don't exactly approve of the decor, but at least you know it and it's not as impersonal as a hotel.'

To her relief, Luke, rather than mocking her offer, merely looked puzzled. 'Are you feeling sorry for me?'

'Perhaps a little.' When he smiled she found herself imitating the movement. 'Believe me, that's a very strange feeling,' she admitted faintly. 'One I'm not at all used to. But I'm serious, Luke.'

Morally, as opposed to legally, she still felt as if part of the house belonged to him. He'd paid for it. The terms of their settlement had been embarrassingly generously weighted in her favour, and the money her solicitor had agreed she had to pay him had seemed trivial once she'd realised, a few years later, the true worth of the house. She spread her hands. 'I've made the offer. It's up to you whether you accept it.'

Luke leaned back in his chair and studied her steadily. 'You're a peculiar little creature at times, Annie.'

'I thought you thought I was peculiar all the time,' she murmured. She felt breathless suddenly. It seemed wise to retreat to the door. 'I'll just run down and fetch Daisy's notes. It shouldn't take me long.'

But there were enough notes and X-rays to mean she needed two trips so, leaving Luke to study some of Daisy's very earliest films, she went back for the second lot, including the notes on the ward. She'd already checked with Daisy to ensure she had no objections to her discussing her case with Luke, and while she was on J she called in on her patient to see how she was.

'Much, much better,' Daisy assured her heartily, although Annabel could see from the end of the bed that, despite the oxygen she was still receiving via two little prongs beneath her nose, there'd been little improvement in either her colour or her chart.

'Mr Grant came to see me after lunch,' Daisy went on, referring to her transplant surgeon. She struggled up a little higher in her bed and giggled. 'If you ask me, Dr Stuart, he wasn't that interested in me. He sort of prodded me about a bit and looked at my X-ray, but what he really wanted to do was talk to John. He brought a football in for him to sign for his son.'

'Whom he no doubt forgot to mention is not even seven weeks old yet,' Annabel revealed with a smile. 'I think we both know who Tony wanted the autograph for.'

'That's what I thought, too.' Daisy rolled her eyes. 'Honestly. Men! They're so pathetic sometimes, aren't they?' Her voice was still wheezy and she still had to keep stopping every few words to catch her breath, but Annabel thought there'd been a little improvement in that since the morning. 'I may be only twenty but, I tell you, I can see right through them. Professor Geddes is different, though. Do you think he'll come back and see me when he's looked at all my stuff?'

'Now, Daisy,' Annabel warned, but the younger woman merely giggled at her again.

'I won't jump all over him,' she teased, her eyes dancing. 'Or at least not until I've got enough energy to put up a better fight if he tries to get away again. And he is a little old for me—you're right about that. But he's still delicious to look at and I liked him and I hope I haven't frightened him off for all time.'

'Frightening Luke would take more than a poppet like you,' Annabel assured her dryly. To frighten Luke away Daisy would have to have turned into a harridan like she herself was, and Annabel couldn't see that happening in a hurry. 'I suspect he will come and see you again but perhaps not till tomorrow.'