This has taken me the best part of a year to write so far, and I'm still not done. I'm giving you fair warning - it's long. If you don't like long fics, pass on this one. It picks up from the start of series 30, partially following the established timeline until episode 6: The Last Call. After that it deviates quite a lot.
All constructive criticism welcomed. All I own are my OCs, who are too many to name off the top of my head. Clearly I don't own Casualty, otherwise there would be far better storylines at present (I jest - if this story has taught me anything, it's that plotting and pacing intertwining stories is actually really hard).
You can turn the clock to zero, we're starting up a brand new day.
Max was tiring of the concerned looks from his step-sister and flatmate. It wasn't as if he was sobbing into his cornflakes or slitting his wrists in the bath. So he'd been quieter than usual over the past few weeks: so what? That should have made Robyn happy, given how much she complained about his guitar playing and general boisterousness. Besides, neither of them had expressed much interest in his love-life up until Zoe had left; he still wasn't sure that even Lofty knew the real reasons why the past few weeks had been so difficult, and Robyn seemed oblivious, assuming he'd had a fling with a nameless faceless girl picked up wherever it was he disappeared to. Max wasn't about to spill his emotions all over the place. Things were going to get better; he just wasn't sure quite when.
So now he was trying to fake more enthusiasm about the day's work than he was feeling. He knew he'd enjoy it once he got into it, he always did. But when Robyn was constantly asking him if he was alright, it was easy to forget that.
'I'm fine,' he said, sensing her opening her mouth again as they walked into work. The words came out more sharply than he'd intended and he bit his lip, damned if he was going to apologise.
'I didn't say anything!' Robyn protested. 'Lofty, did I say anything?'
'I don't think so.' Lofty pulled a face and Max felt his irritation relent a little bit. It was unfair to subject him to a dispute between siblings.
The good-natured part of himself said, 'Why don't we go out tonight?'
'You haven't wanted to go out in weeks.' Trust Robyn to point out the obvious.
'Tonight I want to.' Maybe if he kept saying it he'd start to believe it. 'Lofty?'
'Yeah, sure.'
'Good.' Max nodded as they walked into the department. Sure enough, he did feel the weight lift off of him a little as they walked through the waiting area. It was strange, given everything that had passed between Zoe and him in this very building, but being at work made things a bit better. He felt more like himself when he was taking patients to x-ray or being chastised by Tess. He'd get there, he knew. It was just a shame the journey was taking so long.
As ever, the ED was a hive of activity. Once he'd ditched his street clothes and pulled on his uniform, he headed into the thick of it. Almost before he'd drawn breath, Lily had appeared from behind a cubicle curtain, her eyes instantly alighting on him.
'Max, can you take Mr Russell to x-ray please?'
'Sure.' Nodding, he fetched a wheelchair from where it had been abandoned in the middle of the department. He hoped Tess had caught whoever had committed that particular misdemeanour.
It was only as he waited outside of the cubicle that he realised the crowd around the nurses' station was determinedly male, in the way that certain night-time establishments veritably bristled with testosterone. Despite himself, he drifted towards it, the call of the wild being stronger than the call of Doctor Chao.
'What's going on?'
Cal tore his eyes away from the direction they were all looking in. 'New doctor in Connie's office.' The information passed on, in as brief and efficient way as possible, he turned back to the important matter.
'Blonde,' Noel added.
'Hot,' Lofty added.
'You've seen her?' Max asked.
'Well… I've seen the back of her…' Lofty shrugged, embarrassed, and Max was unable to avoid grinning at his friend. It was a very Lofty statement.
'So, the plan is… lie in wait and ambush her?' Max wondered how long it was since this lot had chatted a girl up. Cal had the air and swagger of a player, but there'd been no actual action on that front as far as Max was aware. As for Lofty, well, Max wondered if he ought to forewarn his friend that Robyn was almost fully convinced he was gay by now: 'He's never once made a pass at me.' This being the standard of determining sexuality in their house.
'She's a colleague.' Cal shrugged, glancing down at the notes in his hand as Tess looked up from the patient she was treating with a disapproving look at the hormone-fuelled crowd in the middle of her department. 'We're being friendly.'
God, Max wished Zoe was here. It wasn't the first time he'd had this feeling in the weeks since she'd left, but it was one of the most intense. She'd have raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes along with him and then laughed about it later. It was her sense of humour he found he was missing more than anything; like he'd told her, no one made him laugh quite like she did.
Still, watching this bunch frantically appear to be doing something when Connie Beauchamp's office door opened was amusing in itself. Given that Lily was still busy with Mr Russell, Max was one of the few who had a legitimate reason for standing still when the new doctor came out behind the ED's clinical lead. It surprised him how intrigued he was by this newcomer; he hadn't had much energy for curiosity in the weeks since Zoe had left.
Lofty may have only seen the back of the new doctor, but Max could understand how his friend had come to his conclusions. Dressed in a respectable but form-fitting skirt-suit and heels, he expected even the back of her would pack quite a punch. The front of her certainly did. With shoulder-length blonde hair and heavy-rimmed glasses which, perhaps unwittingly, gave her the air of a sexy secretary in an adult film, there were no two ways about it: she was hot.
'Oh, a welcoming committee,' Connie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she led the new doctor towards them. 'How lovely. Everybody, this is Doctor Francesca Hardy. Doctor Hardy has been working in the US for a year and I'm sure we'll find she has lots of new ideas she can share with us.'
'Shit.' Cal breathed out suddenly.
'Told you,' Lofty muttered loud enough for all of them to hear.
It wasn't the new doctor or Lofty who Max was looking at though. It was Cal, whose jaw had dropped in a manner disproportionate to how hot Francesca was. Somehow, he had a feeling he knew what was coming next.
Cal threw Lofty a disgusted look. 'That's my sister.'
'Let me just get this straight: you applied for a job in the same hospital as us, the same department, and you just forgot to tell me or Ethan?' Cal was fighting hard not to lose his temper with his sister, but this seriously had to be a joke.
'I didn't forget. I just didn't tell either of you.' Fran shrugged. 'Is it that big a deal?'
'A bit of warning wouldn't go amiss!' Cal pointed outside the staff room. 'Do you know how embarrassing that was? I didn't even know my own sister was starting work here today!'
'Well, sorry if I embarrassed you.' She didn't sound especially sorry. He didn't know why he was surprised by that, because he couldn't remember a time when she had been especially sorry.
'I assume you didn't tell Ethan either?'
'No. I didn't tell either of you.'
That did make it better, although he wasn't sure how the rivalry between the two of them had extended to who had the more meaningful conversations with their little sister. Well, Ethan's little sister, to be specific, which was only being emphasised to him today when he took in her outfit; she looked every inch a Hardy. It was times like these that their confusing family tree became so much more obvious.
There was always one thing that would hold them together though, one person, no matter how much Cal claimed to the contrary in his careful choice of words. 'And your dad?'
It was the first time Fran had looked even slightly abashed by what she'd done. 'He knows I've got a job. He doesn't know it's in Holby.' Before he could ask why, she added, 'I just didn't want everybody knowing until I'd definitely got the job.' Implicit in her answer was the fact that she didn't want everybody to know she'd failed if she didn't get the job. Cal could identify with that; he'd always been able to identify with Fran on that one. If being Ethan's older brother was difficult, being his little sister was equally as fraught with problems.
Remembering that made him remember how to be a big brother a little better. Letting out a long sigh, he asked, 'Where are you staying?'
'I've got a flat.'
'Is it okay?'
'It's fine.'
Still as independent as ever then. 'Okay. So… if you want anything today, Ethan or I can help you.'
'Mrs Beauchamp said Doctor Ashford would be my mentor in the short term, until I settle in.' There was nothing Fran liked better than sticking to rules. He'd forgotten that: the Hardys loved a rule and a reference and a box to tick.
'Right. But if you want anything else.' He wasn't sure what else she'd want. It had been over a year since he'd seen his sister, several years since they'd stayed under the same roof for even a couple of days at Christmas. Most of the time he thought of her fondly: Fran and her endearingly super-serious attitude towards life. She was the only person he'd ever known to have made a revision timetable and stick to it. The reality of her was something quite different though, and he'd forgotten that. She wasn't some new blonde hot doctor who'd need people to show her the ropes. He had a horrible feeling that by the end of the day, she'd be the one showing him the ropes.
'Sure.' She nodded. 'Anyway. I need to get changed. Could you tell Doctor Ashford that I'll be through in a minute?'
Cal nodded and she left the room with her hospital issue scrubs. Barely seconds later, Ethan pushed through the door.
'Was that Fran?' The surprise on his face at least supported her assertion that she'd kept this career move tightly clasped to her chest.
'Yep.'
'Did you know?'
Cal would have loved to have said yes, just to see his brother's face. But instead he shook his head.
Ethan leaned back against the door, seemingly winded from the news. He took his glasses off to clean them, a clear sign that he didn't know what to make of their sister's appearance in the department either. These moments didn't come along often; Cal thought he should savour it, enjoy the feeling of being in the exact same boat as his younger brother.
He stood up and left the staff room. There were patients to see.
Fran cast her eye over the x-ray. The girl had fallen during a game of hockey at school and had soldiered on with an assumed sprained ankle. Fran suspected her mother would have something to say to the school when she revealed that the fifth metatarsal had not only been fractured but displaced through the repeated weight the girl had put on it. Still, that wasn't any of her business. What was her business was what she did next.
'Doctor Ashford, could you check something?'
'Sure. And Ash is fine. It's what everybody else calls me.' He took the tablet off of her and looked at the outline of the girl's bones. 'Clean break but badly displaced.'
'Yes.'
'No breakage of the skin?'
'No.'
'What would you suggest doing now?'
'Plaster obviously. It might need pinning, and I've already sent the x-ray to orthopaedics, but I have seen it manipulated back into place in the past, so I thought I'd try that first.'
'Will you give her any pain relief?'
'Gas and air.'
Ash treated her to a smile. 'Sounds like you've got it covered. Let me know if you need any help.'
Fran nodded her thanks before heading back towards the cubicle to relay the news to – she checked the name on the x-ray – Rachel Anderson and her mother. So far, so good. There'd not been much of an opportunity to stretch herself as yet, but she had high hopes. The emails she'd had from Cal since he'd come to Holby were full of exciting news; she hadn't ever seen her brother (because she didn't know what else she could call somebody who she was related to by all but blood) so fired up. Predictably, Ethan had been his characteristically uncommunicative self since she'd gone to the States. That was something she might have to address as soon as she'd dealt with her next patient.
Breezing into the cubicle now, she put on the smile she reserved for treating patients: professional, calming and devoid of any real sentiment. 'Rachel, thank you for waiting. We've got your x-ray back.'
'And?' Mrs Anderson practically jumped across the bed at her.
Fran blinked. She'd forgotten what working with children was like; it was as much about treating the parents as the patient themselves. She turned the smile up a notch, even as she was aware that it didn't go with the news she was delivering. 'There is a significant break on the fifth metatarsal. That's the bone which runs down the side of your foot, Rachel. It's a clean break, but the bone is displaced. It may be that you have to have a small operation to pin it back into place. I've passed your details to orthopaedics and the specialists will be in touch when they've had a look. In the short term, I'd like to manipulate the bone back into place before plastering it.'
It was Mrs Anderson's turn to blink and Fran felt a familiar irritation rise up within her. She thought she'd been clear in her explanation, but it looked like she'd have to repeat herself. Again.
'So what are you saying? She needs an operation?'
'It may be that she needs one, but that's for the specialists to decide. For now, I'd like for Rachel to be able to go home, so I'm going to try to move the bone back into line and then get one of our nurses to plaster her foot to hold it in place.' Fran thought she'd spoken more slowly that time. Before she could repeat herself for a third time, she stepped towards the nurses' station. 'I'll find a nurse to help. I won't be a minute.'
She hoped she wouldn't be a minute anyway. The thing which always threw her when she started a new job was the vast amount of names to learn. Putting names to faces and vice versa was a skill she'd never mastered, and she doubted she ever would. Doctor Ashford – Ash, she repeated to herself, hoping the name would stick – had given her a brief introduction to the department earlier. Now, as she looked at the people in front of her, not a single name would come into her mind.
'Can I help?' The curly-haired nurse was standing in front of her, eager to please, much like a spaniel. Fran tried to curb her smile at the immediate association she'd made and focus on his name badge.
'Could you help me with plastering a patient's leg please… Ben?' She hoped she hadn't squinted too much; terrible eye-sight was an unfortunate Hardy trait.
'Most people call me Lofty.' He grinned again. 'I'll get the kit.'
Lofty. Ash. Fran wondered if anybody was called by their real name here. It was quite a long way from the private hospitals she'd been working at in the US for the past year. It wasn't that she thought it was unprofessional, just a bit strange. Besides which, Lofty was a terrible name for a spaniel. There went another attempt at memorising names.
Ethan couldn't believe how long it had been since he'd seen his little sister in person. Skype didn't, and never had, counted in his book. Being physically there was important. Which was why it was so difficult to feel pleased to see her now.
Pushing open the staffroom door, he was unable to put off the moment of truth any longer. He'd seen her around the department that morning, looking efficient and effortlessly in control but they hadn't spoken yet. He supposed there was no time like the present.
She dragged her attention away from the journal in front of her. 'Ethan!' Then followed the usual awkward moment, when most families would hug or show some form of affection, and instead they hovered in silence. 'How are you?'
'Fine.'
For the first time, he saw a flicker of guilt pass across her face. 'I'm… sorry I couldn't make it back for your mum's funeral.' That she knew exactly why he was less than impressed to see her was progress of a sort, he had to admit that much.
Even so, it was far too little far too late. 'Or send a card.'
'Ethan…'
'Or phone me or even send an email.' He straightened his glasses, surprised to find his hand trembling. This was not a conversation he'd wanted to have within seconds of seeing his little sister for the first time in over twelve months. He hadn't realised he felt this angry about it until she'd sashayed into the department this morning.
'You hate it when I do that.' True, but that wasn't good enough. 'Ethan, it wasn't that simple, I couldn't just come back. She wasn't my mum…' She tailed off and bit her lip as she realised what she'd said. Again, the truth wasn't good enough on this occasion.
Ethan left an uncomfortable silence before saying, devastatingly calmly, 'It would have been nice if you'd been here.'
'You had Cal.'
'That's supposed to be a positive?' He wasn't sure if she was joking or not. If she was, it wasn't funny. If she wasn't, he wondered how long she thought she'd been away for.
'He is your brother. She was his mum too.'
'Maybe you could let him know that then.'
It seemed like she was about to stick up for Cal then, like she almost always did. Ethan wasn't sure why that was. In his mind, there was a vast gulf between impulsive, irrational, reckless Caleb and methodical, exacting, control-freak Francesca. He'd never been able to work out why his two half-siblings so often ended up on one side of the fence whilst he languished on the other.
Then she seemed to think better of it. 'I am sorry, Ethan. I always really liked your mum.'
Against his will, he felt his stance softening slightly towards her, as though she'd spoken some magic words. 'Have you spoken to Dad recently?'
'I told him I was interviewing for a job. I didn't mention you or Cal. I'll call him tonight.'
Ethan nodded. 'And… you're okay? You've got somewhere to stay?'
'Oh, yeah. Nice flat, horrible view.' She flashed him one of her rare smiles and, as ever, he returned it. She'd always had that power, he remembered now, right from when she was a kid. Her smiles had been infectious, and frequent. He wasn't sure when they'd dried up to these brief dazzling moments.
'Okay.' He nodded again. 'If you need anything-'
'Yeah, Cal said, just ask.'
Of course he had. All Ethan could do was nod again and leave his sister to her lunch, grinding his teeth as he headed back to the ward.
'I think she'd be fun!' Lofty was insisting as Max came into the staffroom.
'Max, tell him he can't invite Doctor Hardy tonight,' Robyn directed her step-brother.
'Which one?'
'Ha ha.'
'I was just saying,' Lofty explained, 'she seems nice. And she's new. She might want to get to know us. What?' he demanded, as the step-siblings shared an eye-roll.
'When have you ever known Ethan to come for a drink?' Max asked his friend.
'She might be different. Cal comes sometimes.' Lofty looked between the two of them again before nodding decisively. 'I'm going to ask her.'
It was like a cheesy film, Max thought, as no sooner had the words left Lofty's lips, but the door opened and the topic of conversation walked in. Her entrance was slightly less dramatic than it had been this morning, scrubs not having quite the same impact as her earlier power-dressing. Even so, her blonde curls and general air of confidence helped to draw all of their eyes towards her.
Max glanced at Lofty. Faced with the reality of Doctor Hardy, he looked far less sure of his decision. The look on his face brought a grin to Max's lips. Raising an eyebrow, he gestured towards her, silently challenging Lofty to follow through. To the nurse's credit, after a brief hesitation, he garnered enough confidence to approach Francesca and, with only the minimum of throat-clearing and anxious hovering, spit out his question.
Max wondered if he'd have noticed what he did next if he hadn't been standing back observing the Lofty-Francesca interaction as though it was a nature documentary. Cynicism meant that he wasn't surprised when she turned down the invitation. What did surprise him was how smoothly it was done.
'I'm sorry, I'm busy tonight. Maybe another time.' She bestowed an admittedly very attractive smile upon Lofty. She had the same straight white teeth and clean-cut looks of her middle brother. There was nothing mean or nasty about the way she spoke; it seemed, to all intents and purposes, that she really was sorry she couldn't join them and really did intend to make the effort another time.
There was something else though, Max mused, the exact details taking a bit longer to sink in. The eyes. There was something about her eyes. The smile didn't make it there, like whatever she was painting on her face didn't match what was going on inside of her head. And the words… they'd come so easily, as though she'd responded on cue with a prepared script. Everything seemed so rehearsed, like she'd done this before. It was as if she was playing the very best Francesca Hardy she knew how to be. That was weird.
'Max?' Robyn gave him a less than gentle shove, suggesting this wasn't the first time she'd called his name. 'You ready?'
He realised he was staring at Francesca's back and it took some effort to tug his eyes away. 'Sure. Let's do this.'
Next time: Taking a Chance
'You said you were on the pill,' the man hissed, half-angry, half-scared. Max could relate; this was the conversation most men dreaded having.
'I am! I… I'm not pregnant,' the woman replied. Anna, Max reminded himself of Rita's directions. 'It's just… I don't know.'
'You said it would all be fine!'
'It will be… I….' The woman shrugged, tears already in her eyes. They were pretty common during these arguments too, something else Max could identify with: being in the ED was scary enough without people sniping at you. It was his cue, anyway. A woman crying was always his cue to intervene.
Chapter title/lyrics from Sting's Brand New Day.
