Page 33 of The Night Shift
‘However,’ Violet said more brightly, seeming to realise she should be a little more supportive, ‘telling the truthis important, whether it makes you feel better or not– being honest with yourself. It’s hard, but necessary, if you’re going to move on.’
‘I guess.’
There was a pause before she spoke again. ‘And do you think you are going to?’
‘What?’
‘Move on.’
‘I– I’m not sure.’
She pulled her chair in slightly and their knees touched under the table. ‘Sorry,’ she said, just as Gus went to apologise.
‘What are you saying sorry for?’ he asked her, confused.
‘Just– our knees– I knocked you– I didn’t mean to…’ She trailed off. ‘What wereyougoing to apologise for?’
‘I don’t know. Being boring I guess– going on about my problems…’ He shrugged. He felt awkward now, as if he’d thrown a landmine into their conversation and Violet was feeling obliged to diffuse it.
‘You are hardlygoing onabout your problems,’ she said, laughing gently. ‘Are you aware of the job we both do? I can assure you that I hear a lot of people talking about their problems. You’ve simply mentioned a significant life event in passing, as if it’s the merest trifle, and now you’re feeling bad that you’re boring me? Don’t be ridiculous, Gus. I’m interested. This seems like a big thing to keep secret from the world. Especially for someone like you.’
‘What do you mean, someone like me?’ He was aware that their knees were still nudged up against each other, her foot resting lightly against his, and suddenly an image popped into his head of her long slender limbs entangled with his own. He realised that he really wanted to know what she thought of him. Who did she think ‘someone like him’ was exactly? And was it someone she liked the idea of?
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I suppose, somebody open. Easy-going. You just don’t seem the type to be harbouring deep angst and dark secrets.’ She sat back in her chair again and contemplated him. ‘Or maybe, youarethe type. Maybe the relaxed, cheerful Gus is a front, a lie you tell the world because you want to put people at ease and you don’t want them to…’ She squinted at his face, trying to make up her mind. ‘Feel sorry for you? Or maybe you just don’t want to make them feel awkward?’ There was a moment’s silence as she appeared to weigh this up while Gus remained silent, awaiting her verdict. He wondered whether she was aware of exactly how perceptive she’d been.
‘I don’t know,’ she conceded eventually. ‘I don’t really do “masking my emotions”. It’s just not the way I operate– this is pure speculation. And I’m also not terribly good at understanding people’s motivations in normal circumstances.’
‘You’re being pretty bloody incisive now,’ he said, his laugh just about covering how exposed he felt. ‘Feels like open-heart surgery.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t normally ask people this much about themselves,’ she said. ‘Trying to work out what makes people tick is usually pretty exhausting, and to be honest, rarely worth the effort. But you’re a bit different.’ She lifted her gaze then, looked him directly in the eye, and he felt suddenly tongue-tied, unsure of what to say next.
He cleared his throat. Did she meandifferent in a good way? He wasn’t quite brave enough to ask but he found himself hoping so. Certainly the way she was looking at him indicated a level of interest. Something had shifted between them in the past few minutes. Since he had admitted to Violet that he was single, the chemistry that had been building over the past few nights seemed to be gaining momentum.
He felt the slight pressure of her legs against his now, an acute reminder of the sensation he’d had being close to her in the side room of ward ten a few hours ago, the tension building as he’d talked her through the cannulation, the charge of electricity every time their bodies came into contact. She’d felt it too, he was certain, and yet she’d appeared unfazed. A bit more nervous perhaps, a bit jumpy, but that was because she’d been stressed and tired and fed up with procedures going wrong. He’d tried to dismiss it then, pretend it was just a combination of her feeling grateful and him feeling magnanimous for helping her out. But he could feel the same tension in the air between them now, something powerful in those grey-green eyes as she stared at him, biting her lip slightly.
There was no longer an obstacle or a reason to try and deny what was happening between them. And yet, his feelings remained complicated. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was ready to throw himself back into the dating game. He wasn’t certain that he was over Amelia, and surely the fact that he hadn’t told anybody else they’d split up indicated that he didn’t really believe she’d left him– not conclusively, even though three months would probably seem quite conclusive to most people. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Violet. She deserved better than the shoddy second-hand goods he felt he’d become. And he wasn’t sure he could cope with being hurt again himself. He hadn’t really finished licking those wounds so now would be a really, really bad time to fall for someone else. Even if that someone else felt like a breath of fresh air in what had become a stifling and oppressive cloud of self-pity.
He realised it had been a long time since either of them had spoken and that the silence was drawing out. He didn’t want it to become awkward. It wasn’t awkward, was it? Jesus, why couldn’t he just think of something to say? Something that wasn’t misleading but that also indicated he was interested and… Shit, now she was getting up from the table. All that talk about feelings had scared her away. Violet didn’t do discussions about feelings. She’d made that quite clear over the past few days. Why had he opened his mouth?
‘I’d better head off,’ she said, looking at her watch. ‘Dev worries if I’m late back from swimming. He’ll think I’ve drowned or frozen to death or been hit by a car while I’m cycling back. He’s a bit of an old woman. He’s like it with Marvin, his boyfriend. Particularly when he’s on his way back from the club. Drives us both mad.’
‘Nice though.’ Gus got to his feet. ‘Nice to have someone waiting for you.’
She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry, I just realised you’re going back to an empty flat– I didn’t mean…’
He shook his head, placed his hand over hers where it was still resting on his arm. ‘It’s okay, really. You don’t need to tiptoe around my delicate ego.’
She smiled broadly. ‘That’s a relief,’ she said. ‘Because I am bloody hopeless at tiptoeing around anything. Anyway, if Dev starts fussing too much I’ll probably end up wishing I was alone. At least you’ll get some sleep in a nice peaceful house, and especially after the swim.’
He pulled his coat on and squashed down the feeling of abandonment. ‘Do you know what? I think you’re right. I feel “good tired” rather than “nauseous tired”.’
‘Warm, heavy limbs,’ she said knowingly. ‘It’s nice, isn’t it? That sort of loose, relaxed feeling.’ She shook her arms like a rag doll and he laughed. He loved the way she didn’t really care what she looked like. ‘Just make sure you’re okay to drive back.’
‘And you on your bike,’ he said, suddenly fearful for her heading out into the traffic. She was so slight, it was as if a good gust of wind might knock her over. ‘I don’t want to sound too much like your housemate,’ he said. ‘But do you think you could text me when you get back, so I know you’re safe.’
‘Sure,’ she said, smiling as she pinged him her number. ‘As long as you do the same. But I’ll be fine– I’ve done this many times before. Dev says I’m the ice-queen.’
He checked his watch as she left the café, already counting down the hours until he would see her again.
