Laurie: My family won’t step foot in your house since you don’t have a butler, so you needn’t worry about that. Also, my parents haven’t lived in the same house for thirty years, so even if they thought I wasn’t living with you, they wouldn’t care.
Me: I’m feeling both reassured and rather concerned at the same time. How did you turn out so normal?
Laurie: Normal's not a word I’d use to describe me. But I had a wonderful nanny. She was from Liverpool actually. My mother hated the accent and insisted she get rid of it.
Me: Your mother sounds like a charmer. I can’t wait to meet her.
So far, I’d only met Laurie’s grandfather and that was for the duration of a blink of an eye. I’d passed their background checks, which were mainly about what money I had, what my background was and whether I’d been associated in any scandal that couldn’t be covered up. Laurie had laughed when she’d informed me that the only issue they’d had was that I was only a surgeon, but her grandfather was pleased about the possibilities of me working in California, which we’d let him think was my preference, and an excuse of better pay and opportunities when we told him about London.
I put my phone in my locker and debated if I had enough time for what passed as coffee before my first appointment. Today was a list of pre-ops, so fairly straightforward. The next two days were scheduled surgeries, which meant I’d be in theatre for twelve-hour days, if not longer. I didn’t mind, now Laurie was here, I had less to do, I’d just like the library’s worth of stock that was hogging my ground floor to be shifted as soon as possible.
That, and to see Rose.
I was startled out of my thoughts with a tap on the shoulder. Turning round, I saw the person I wanted to see least of all.
“Fallon.”
“And the dickhead of the day award goes to…” she tapped the side of the lockers like a drum roll. “Carter! Congratulations, you managed to completely reframe my opinion of you from being a really decent friend who I’d known for years to being a rat like every fucker else.”
Her eyes flashed and I was rather glad she wasn’t holding a sharp implement.
Fallon and I didn’t always get along. She’d never completely trusted me, not because of anything I’d done, but because she was Fallon and she was born sceptical.
“Thanks, Fallon, for the crumbs of faith you have in me.” I could also be sarcastic. “How’s Rose?” Because that was what mattered.
“Pissed off. Confused. But getting on with it because she’s resilient and has more going on in her life than you. Care to explain who yourfriendis?” She pulled off a rather grubby white coat, clearly at the end of her shift, which was a blessing.
“Laurie is a friend. I’ve never slept with her and have no intention of doing so, and the feeling from her is mutual.” I leaned back against the lockers. “How was your shift?”
“Shitty. Lost a twelve-year-old. Knife attack in a local park.”
I nodded, knowing how crappy that was. “Shit.”
“Very. I’m going home to sleep and then I’m going to go on a stupid long run.” She stuffed her coat into a bag and dumped it in hazardous waste.
“Is that wise?” I knew more about Fallon’s heart condition that most, mainly because I was one of the few people she’d talk to about it. She didn’t discuss it with her friends, and the idea of Fallon discussing it with her family was about as realistic as Laurie spending a cosy Christmas with hers.
“No. It’s never wise. Cliff jumping in Indonesia wasn’t wise, scuba diving off Mauritius wasn’t wise. Running through London’s never wise, but there we have it. You being hugged by some woman we’ve never heard of isn’t wise for your health either, yet you still did it. Kissing Rose wasn’t your wisest move either.” She was running out of steam.
Fallon’s heart had always been more fragile than any of the other three. When I first met them, having just moved from America because of my dad’s job, he’d talking me through some of his cases, including theirs. It was factual and medical, all around the science, because he was keen for me to follow in his footsteps as a heart surgeon. Fallon was always the one most at risk. Rose’s operation pretty much cured everything; Harriet’ssecond operation was a success and now she was just monitored. Erin was a one and done, although she’d always been the most anxious afterwards.
Fallon should’ve chosen a calmer life, one with less stress, because that muscle in her chest was still a ticking time bomb. Long distance running, skydiving, cliff jumping – they were all ways for her to say fuck you to death while dancing with it.
I was going to disagree with her about kissing Rose and risk being punched. I was sure my patients wouldn’t mind if I turned up with a black eye and a fractured cheek bone.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” I said, wanting to add that it had been the best decision I’d made recently. “It was badly timed.”
“Understatement. Why are you messing her about, Carter? You know she’s always thought you were perfect.” She seemed like she was choosing her words carefully.
“No one’s perfect, and she knows I’m not.” Because Rose knew more about me than anyone. Years of hanging out together, sometimes just the two of us. Summer holidays spent together as kids, teenagers, summer days spent in parks or each other’s gardens, talking about shit and everything that mattered. “I’m not messing her about.”
“Then why did you tell her you weren’t available? Then we see you being mauled by another woman, whose Instagram you turn up on with people commenting about what a lovely couple you are and crap like that?” She folded her arms, looking exhausted. I really hoped she didn’t go for an epic run like she was threatening. She was pale and looked too thin. I wondered when she’d last seen her specialist.
“Laurie and I aren’t a couple.” Explaining that we were getting married wasn’t going to do me any favours right now. “She’s a friend who I’m helping out with something, which I need to tell Rose about before I tell anyone else.” Rose had heard too much second-hand already. This needed to come from me.
“A friend who you’re clearly putting before Rose. She was doing really well, Carter, even though she was hurt that you’d pretty much ghosted her. I’m not sure that you being back’s the right thing for her. Every man she went out with was compared to you, she always used to work out whether you’d like them or not, and if she thought there was a red flag that you’d see, she’d end it.” She pierced me with her eyes. “I know that wasn’t you – it was her idea of you. If you’re around, she won’t give anyone a chance and Rose deserves to have a home with someone. She deserves to have a family.”
That was where the problem lay. Fallon could’ve described me instead of Rose. Every girl I went out with, I compared to Rose, whether they’d be as clever as her, whether she’d dismantle their ideas and opinions, whether they’d make me laugh or think as much.
