Between Us
I'd only been in the bar about 2 ½ minutes when she accosted me. I was just lifting a much needed Scotch to my lips when she appeared, over glossed lips, too short a hem line, grating voice and all. She was clearly two sheets to the wind, an obvious victim of one bottle of Barcardi Breezer too many. I tried to fob her off with a polite smile, but unsurprisingly it didn't work, and she plonked herself down unceremoniously on the barstool next to mine.
"Mr Rose?"
I groaned inwardly but responded as politely as I could possibly manage, being careful not to actually look at her, knowing if I did engage her I'd probably be stuck with her for the rest of the evening, "Yes Donna?"
"I've got a question right. And you're probably going to think it's like really cheeky."
In all probability, knowing her, yes.
"But like, it's not really me asking. I'm just the spokesperson. It's them lot that want to know." She turned and indicated a booth at the far end of the bar, crowded into which appeared to be a handful of her fellow nurses, Maddy Young, Ric Griffin and my own colleague, the 'ever loyal' Dr Green. I pulled a face at the latter, hoping he'd grasp the fact I was deeply unimpressed with him for unleashing the god forsaken Nurse Jackson on me; we anesthetists are supposed to stick together. They were all grinning slightly viciously and I suspected that whatever was going to come out of Donna's mouth next was not going to amuse me half as much as it was them.
Best to get it over with then.
"Yes?" I said sharply, staring into my drink to avoid looking at her still. She giggled nervously and then eventually, obviously realizing I was going to hit her if she didn't get on with it, blurted out her enquiry.
At her words, my heart sank.
Please God, anything but that.
My defence mechanisms kicked in. Act dumb or bust.
"I'm sorry Donna? 'Have Mrs Beauchamp and I ever done what'?! Operated together? Because I'd have thought that answer to that was fairly obvious just from looking at the theatre list."
She obviously didn't appreciate my diversionary tactics because when she spoke again there was definitely a note of 'huff' in her voice, and when I allowed myself a brief glance at her face, she was rolling her eyes disdainfully,
"Noooo, you know, done 'it'." She lowered her volume slightly, as if afraid Connie was about to walk in and bust her virtually on display arse for being a gossipy little trollop. Which no doubt she would have done if she'd been there.
"Have you screwed her?"
I could have laughed at that. The stupid little airhead really did have no idea. I forced myself to look at her, knowing that if I didn't she'd take it as evidence that I was lying.
"No, I've never screwed Mrs Beauchamp." Well it was true. Kind of. In a manner of speaking. "Now," I finally got my drink into my mouth, and swallowed, regretting it seconds later when the amber liquid burned my throat, "am I allowed to be left alone to drink in peace now?"
She shrugged, looking somewhat disappointed, "Yeah, I guess. Sorry. Its just like you're always so flirty with each other, and we just thought," she faded out, clearly not seeing the need to spell out what they'd 'just thought' since it was pretty bloody obvious to both of us. "I guess we just wanted to know what the story was with the two of you. Sorry."
As I watched her beating a hasty retreat back to her cronies, I took a deep breath and then downed the rest of my drink, mulling over her words.
There was no way on earth they were ever going to know what the story was between us.
Some things in life are just too special to share.