Page 68 of Broken Heart Syndrome
‘Now you,’ she said, staring intently at Tom, ‘do not have a stupid face at all. You have a very nice face.’ (A fact which I am sure that females of any age and in any mental state could agree on.)
‘That is very kind, Mrs Jones,’ he said, all charm, then turned to me. ‘Frankie, could you possibly explain –’ I thought at this point the coast was probably clear and I needed to make a break for it. I smiled brightly at Tom and he narrowed his eyes at me.
‘Right. Got to get going then. Thank you for your time, Dr Longley.’
‘What about my custard creams?’
‘We’ll get them for you once we get back to the ward,’ I muttered, pushing the chair through the piles of papers towards the door.
Just as the door was shutting behind us, Gladys called back, ‘You clean up that office, young man, and whilst you’re at it, clean up your language too.’ I saw Tom’s jaw clench and his eyes flash just as the door, thankfully, pulled to, and we set off down the corridor.
When we were nearly at her room, I heard Dylan call my name and saw him sprinting towards me.
‘What are you doing wheeling patients around again, Ladies?’ he asked, looking stern. He had caught me many a time pushing a bed or a chair up a corridor because I didn’t want to put the porters out. ‘The porters are paid to do it you know. They won’t thank you if you put them out of a job.’
‘Shut up, Dylan,’ I hissed, pushing open Mrs Jones’s door and wheeling her through. Once we’d got her set up with some tea, custard creams and Charlene’s wedding, I pulled him into a corner of the room. I didn’t want to talk to him outside for fear his team would come along and overhear. ‘You referred her for an exercise test, you dullard,’ I told him.
‘So?’ he asked, his brows drawing together. I rolled my eyes.
‘Dyl, we’ve just bodily lifted her onto the bed. She can’t even stand unaided. How the heck did you think she could trot along on a treadmill for ten minutes?’
‘Oh no,’ he said, his face paling. ‘This will literally be strike three for me.’ He groaned. ‘Christ, they’ll make me repeat the year.’
I took pity on him.
‘Don’t worry you numpty. I’ll buy off the guys with chocolate layer cake; and I hid her from Dr Williams, so you’re good.’
His face relaxed with the relief, and he snatched me up in a fierce hug. Once he released me, I smiled at him, but strangely I saw his expression cloud.
‘I don’t deserve you as a friend,’ he told me in a small voice, looking down at his shoes.
‘What are you talking about, you loon?’
‘Why aren’t you and Tom together any more, Frankie?’ he asked suddenly, and I frowned.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ This wasn’t the first time Dylan had asked me that question; in fact he’d seemed almost panicked when he heard Tom and I weren’t together any more. I was just realizing that that was a little odd.
‘Please, Ladies,’ he said looking straight into my eyes, ‘I really need to know.’
Well, I thought, I suppose it doesn’t matter if I open up a little to Dylan.
‘I had an unexpected visitor two weeks ago when he was picking me up.’
‘I know that, Ladies, Lou told me. But it still doesn’t explain why you aren’t together.’
I threw up my hands, ‘It just highlights how different we are.’
Dylan snorted, and I could tell he was about to disagree, so I cut him off. ‘It’s not only that, Dyl,’ I said in a voice laced with the pain I seemed unable to hide. ‘I don’t know what he saw in me this time. Maybe it was the challenge because I was so freaking shy and he took that as me being standoffish. But I know that he will realize that I’m not right for him; it’s just a matter of time.
‘I mean, he didn’t even know who I was when he saw me again. He never noticed me before. When he kissed me at the bar in medical school he thought I was a fresher. You said so yourself.’
Dylan made a weird noise in the back of his throat, which I ignored. ‘I’d been going to uni with him for two whole years, holding him up as my idol and weaving stupid fantasies around him, and he didn’t even know I existed.’
‘Frankie, listen –’
‘I mean, he even called me “Frigid Frankie” to his mates. How low is that?’
‘Ladies, honestly, if you’ll just –’
