“I’m a nurse. I do it too. For instance, you have very much wanted to tell me to fuck off every time I’ve told you not to do something over the last two days.”
“That isnotreading body language. It’s just listening to me because I very clearly have actually said fuck off.”
“Silly me,” I say, slinging myself down into the chair next to him and tilting my face up to the sun. “Can’t keep a thought in my head for more than a second.” I shoot a glance at the jug of clear liquid on the table next to him, which is frosty with condensation running down it. “Is that vodka?”
He laughs. “How very fortunate that this thought was the one that bucked the trend. No, it’s fucking water, Mary Whitehouse, because Peter seems to be obeying all your orders now.”
“As he should,” I say comfortably. “Give in to my authority, Gideon. You know you want to.”
He shakes his head, and the papers on his lap flap in the sea breeze as if the wind wants to snatch them away and only the firm grasp of his long thin fingers is stopping it. “That had better not be work,” I observe.
He makes a moue of disgust. “Yes, I notice that the script Frankie sneaked to me is unaccountably missing from my room. It’s a mystery.”
“Not really,” I say serenely. “I took it.”
“It’s like living with a fucking prison warder. Why?”
“Because you need to rest and recover and you can’t do that if you’re hyped up and focusing on work. In case you’re wondering, I’ve also instructed Peter not to put through calls from Frankie. If he rings on your mobile I’d like you to pass him to me because he was told very explicitly by your doctor that he was to leave you alone.”
“How explicit? Did he carve it on a cheque? Because that’s the only thing Frankie pays attention to.”
I shake my head. “What a pearl amongst men.”
Gideon shrugs. “He is what I need, I suppose.”
“Frankenstein’s monster had more charm.”
He laughs. “And definitely better taste in clothes.”
I look at the papers. “So, if that’s not work, what is it?”
“Your CV.” He flutters the pages. “It’s very informative.”
For some strange reason I want to snatch it away from him, and my body actually tenses to do it. Why, I don’t know, because this is my employer. He more than anyone should know what my CV says. Gideon’s gaze sharpens, and I make myself relax. “Scandalous reading.”
He grins wickedly. “I had to read it one-handed.”
I shake my head and can’t stop the laughter. Then I sober. “Well, I suppose you never actually got to interview me. Any questions?”
He looks at the pages and fans them out in his hand. “No,” he says almost hesitantly. “It’s very impressive, actually.”
“You sound surprised.” I laugh. “Rather like my parents who think all I do is wipe rich people’s arses.”
“Tell me you aren’t going to be doing that for me?” he asks in a horrified voice.
“No, mate,” I drawl. “Not unless you ask me nicely.”
“That will never happen,” he vows. He pauses. “Don’t your parents approve of your job?”
“They’re surgeons.”
“So? How does that impact? You’re in the same profession.”
“Not in the same pay bracket or with the same responsibility. It’s like comparing a milkman with the owner of a big dairy company.”
Gideon shrugs. “If the world were made up of surgeons we’d all just have a lot of stitches and probably far fewer internal organs.”
I laugh and, to my amazement, I lean forward and talk honestly. “I was in medical school training to be a doctor when I decided that I wanted to be a nurse. They hate it with a passion. They think I’m wasting my talents and opportunities.”
