Chapter Four:

Thank you all so, so much for your reviews; I appreciate each and every one of them.


It's seven thirty in the morning, and Connie Beauchamp walks out of the lift on the seventh floor of Holby City Hospital, a huge file tucked within her right arm. Though she's not working with Jac today – she's returning to the ED for the first time in a week, thankfully – she forgot to leave this folder up here last night.

Well, she mentally corrects herself, she didn't forget – she just hadn't finished reading the final page when she left yesterday. The prospect of seeing Grace for the first time in a few days had been too much to keep Connie focused on aortic aneurysms…well, that, or the fact that Sam and herself had told their daughter of their semi-permanent romantic status.

Grace took it better – and more easily – than Connie had expected, she has to admit. Her main concern had been whether it made her parents happy…and if they could deal with one another if they split up again. They had reassured her that, honestly, they'd be able to cope being civil to one another if this didn't work out long-term, and that had been enough for her.

It's definitely a weight off of her mind, to be honest. Now, they can still go out for meals together, without Grace, but they don't have to lie about where they're going. And they can do things together, properly, as a family. Like last night, except every night.

The only time Connie regretted leaving work ten minutes early was when she, at one in the morning, was still awake, finishing reading the document.

"Come to bed," Sam had grumbled, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Finish it in the morning."

But she hadn't, because she knew that she wouldn't wake up any earlier to do it, and she wants Jac to read through her proposals today, so that they can actually start advancing the work that needs to be put in.

"Connie, what are you doing up here?" Connie hears a voice behind her as she walks towards the consultants' office. Jac. "I thought you were down in the ED today?"

Connie turns, attempting to plaster a smile onto her face, and nods. "Surprisingly, I do know the difference between two departments, Jac," she replies, keeping her tone as light as possible. "I just wanted to drop my proposal off with you this morning, so you have ample time to read it. I wouldn't want you to feel left out of the loop, being Clinical Lead and all."

Jac lifts her hands up, palms out, and takes a half-step back, almost in surrender. "I'm sorry for asking," she says, her voice cheerful and definitely not reflecting what she's saying. "I'm surprised that you were working last night though…" she trails off deliberately, leaving Connie to ask why.

Connie bites. "Why's that?"

Grinning, Jac explains. "Well, you had a hot date at lunch by all accounts, and then you left ten minutes early! I mean, ten minutes! For Connie Beauchamp, that's like you barely managed to do half a shift – which, really, you sort of only managed, as you went to lunch for so long—"

Connie cuts her off. "I left early – barely – to spend time with Grace. Not that it's really any of your business."

Jac fixes her with a knowing look – though what she can know, Connie dreads to imagine – before winking. She then reaches out to take the file from Connie. "Whatever you say, Mrs B, whatever you say," she continues cheerfully. "I'll take that from you now, save you walking a little bit…I imagine you're very tired after last night…have a nice day, down with your abscesses and vomiting babies."

Before Connie has chance to reply, Jac's walked off, hair swishing left and right. She turns back, though, and Connie's not surprise; though she's already had the last word, Jac's always prepared for more.

"Are you sure it wasn't the nurse?" Jac asks, her expression thoughtful.

"Certain," Connie replies frostily, fixing Jac with an ice-cold stare. Nice to know that she's still got it.

"Bummer," Jac adds, heaving a sigh as she finishes speaking. "Well, I'll figure it out soon. In a bit, Connie."

Connie dreads to think of the comments she's going to get from Jac Naylor in particular, the day that her relationship with Sam becomes common knowledge.


.x.

Twenty minutes later, and Connie's sitting in her office with a hot cup of coffee to her left and an unnervingly large pile of paperwork to her right. Something Sam had mentioned to her in passing last night had made her think that she'd be expecting to see a little paperwork leftover – as, despite the previous day being Dylan and Elle's scheduled "paperwork day", Sam mentioned seeing Dylan on the department floor more often than not – but definitely not this much. It's as if Dylan's started to read a few files, signed off a few bits and bobs but then gotten bored, moving onto the next file, and the next file, before not even doing that. His pen is still lying on top of an open file, indicating that it took exactly five files for him to give up on the notion of pretending to do paperwork.

She doesn't even look at her computer screen for over an hour, and she's sure that the emails are racking up, but she has to get this paperwork sorted first. If she doesn't, it'll stress her out for most of the day. Thankfully, the blinds are drawn, meaning that none of the doctors come and disturb her; she's not certain that she wouldn't give a sarcastic response if one of them tried.

Then, around nine am, there's a knock at the door, and she looks up to see Sam standing with his face pressed to the glass pane.

Connie can't help but snort a little as she waves him in; he's absolutely, one hundred percent a child…but he's hers. Probably, anyway.

"Hey," Sam begins as he closes the door behind him quietly. "You left early this morning – you didn't even wake me up."

She takes a sip of her now very cold coffee, makes a face, and sets the cup down. "Yes, I know, I didn't want to wake you up when I kept you awake last night," she explains, making eye contact with Sam. "I had to drop the proposal off with Jac, and I wanted to do it early, so that she has enough time to read it."

He smiles a little, taking a few more steps into the office. "I didn't get to kiss you good morning," he says, sounding a little hurt. "I could kiss you now, to make up for it, though…I mean it's still morning, and very early. And the blinds are drawn."

Connie shakes her head, standing up. She notices Sam's smile slides straight off his face, and he looks confused.

"We don't exist inside this building, remember?" She reminds him gently, walking around the desk and stopping a few centimetres in front of him. "It's going to be hard enough working with you and remembering that we're only work colleagues without then kissing you in my office at every opportunity."

"Work colleagues with a daughter," Sam adds.

"With a daughter," she agrees, "but work colleagues who ostensibly hate one another, and take every opportunity to undermine the other. How is it going to look when you don't do that, and then I still take you into the office?"

He nods slowly. "You have a point."

"I know," Connie replies, proudly. "But, I mean, we can have lunch together. And I might have slightly amended Dylan's rota so that you finish half an hour after me, so we can leave together."

Sam cocks an eyebrow as he closes the gap between them, pressing his body against Connie's. "Why am I finishing half an hour later then?" He leans over and tucks a piece of Connie's hair behind her ear. "Is this allowed in the workplace, Mrs Beauchamp?"

"So that I have half an hour to finish what I'm doing before you start moaning at me that I'm late and I need to leave," Connie explains, maintaining eye contact with Sam. She loves his cheeky expression, just as she loves the feeling of his hand against her cheek. "I suppose it's acceptable for a work colleague to sort my hair out…maybe. Just this once. And you should probably go before people wonder where you are." She loses her train of thought as his fingers linger on her cheek slightly, and she can taste his minty breath through the air. Still, this is progress. Last week, he managed to reduce her to being speechless on more than one occasion.

Sam takes a step back, and smiles a little. "See you soon, Con," he says in parting, walking backwards towards the door. He waves with his right hand, his arm barely moving. "By the way, did you say Dylan's doing the rotas?"

Connie nods. "Yes, it's what he wanted in exchange for taking over some responsibility. Why?"

Sam sticks his lower jaw out, evidently thinking. "Hm, that makes sense why we're hardly ever here at the same time," he says slowly. "See you later, Con…sorry, Mrs Beauchamp. Got to be professional."


.x.

Five metres away from the exchange between Connie and Sam, Louise Tyler is engrossed in analysing a picture which appeared on her Facebook newsfeed late the night before.

"Look at it!" she says, pulling Max by the arm so that he's close enough to the screen to see what she can see. "I thought they were a bit closer than normal…"

"What, by the fact that she's not bitten his head off in the last week and he hasn't tried to sack her?" Max replies. "Don't think that that's the greatest basis for a relationship, Lou."

Louise rolls her eyes, and points to the picture on the screen. It's a selfie taken by Grace the night before, with her parents on either side of her. They're all looking at the camera, smiles all around, and though there's no physical contact between Connie and Sam, there's none of the usual tension the ED staff are used to seeing.

"Look at it," she insists. "And anyway, they have a kid together! They must have liked each other at some point before work got in the way."

"Where did you get this picture anyway?" Max asks, curious. "Seems a bit strange that Mrs Beauchamp would let a selfie appear on the hospital network, don't you think?"

Louise blushes. "It's on Grace's social media."

Another voice joins the conversation: Dylan. "I don't know about you, but I find it a little creepy that you're friends with an eleven year old girl – who you're not even related to – on social media."

"Yeah, well, I'm friends with Sam and he got tagged in it," Louise explains. "You look, Dylan. What do you see?"

Dylan takes the briefest, most cursory glance at the picture before rolling his eyes. "I see a girl, our Clinical Lead, and a prat. If Connie really does take him back, she's less astute than I had given her credit to be."

Louise sniggers. "I think it's cute, really. She deserves a bit of happiness – everything seems to be going well for her at the moment."

Little do they know that Sam, having just stepped out of Connie's office, has heard nearly every word of this conversation.

.

Sam's very, very well aware of Connie's desire to keep their relationship under wraps - it's something that he, too, would quite like for the moment. For whilst it would be nice to have the option to spend more time with her, the blurring between their personal and professional lives would be dangerous so early on in the relationship. If they're serious about this being long-term, they need to make sure that they like each other enough outside of work to be able to cope with working together. Plus, Connie's absence from the department would mean that he would be the only one dealing with the consequences of an early reveal…

He's suddenly surprised that she hasn't decided to go public immediately.

However, it's suddenly clear to him that this is a golden opportunity to do two things: to sow seeds of confusion among the ED staff regarding the nature of his relationship with Connie, and to play a bit of a prank on his new…girlfriend? Is that what he would introduce her as? Or his partner?

"I've noticed that Connie seems a bit different recently," Sam says as he approaches the workstation, noticing with amusement how quickly Louise clicks her mouse. "Have any of you guys noticed anything?"

Dylan fixes him with a stare. "I think that Mrs Beauchamp's personal life isn't anything to do with us," he says coolly. "I would have thought you would have been the sort of person to shun idle gossip. Maybe do some work, instead." He walks off, leaving Louise, Max and Sam standing together around the station.

Louise looks intrigued. "She seems happy, doesn't she?"

"Well, of what we've seen of her," Max adds. "Spends most of her time upstairs, nowadays, doesn't she?"

Sam smiles a little. "Yes, she does. And who else spends a lot of time upstairs?"

"You?" Louise clearly can't stop herself saying. "Or, I mean, you did, so I guess you know who else does?" she adds sheepishly.

"Jac Naylor?" Max supplies. "Guy Self? Patients? I wheel a few patients up every now and then, sure they're having a party up there or something."

"Henrik Hanssen," Sam says, stressing the CEO's name. "He spends a lot of time up there, doesn't he? And I hear he asked Connie to take the job upstairs – I wonder what's going on between them…"

"Why don't you just ask her?" Louise suggests. "You have a kid together, I'm sure you can ask her if she's dating the CEO. But I'm not sure that he's her type."

Sam snorts. Of course Henrik isn't her type: he's too much…not Sam.

"He is," Sam insists, "I mean look, when did he ever visit the ED when Nick Jordan or Zoe Hanna were in charge? And now he's down here for the fourth time in two weeks…I'm sure they're together," he presses, noting how fortuitously the man in question has made his way downstairs. Surely it can't be good, if he's come down in person…but Sam's sure that Connie will tell him later, anyway.

Louise looks as if she's persuaded by his argument, and Sam has to laugh a little. He could run rings around the established rumour mill in this place.

"But what about you?" Louise demands. "Don't you like her?"

It takes everything Sam has to muster up a semi-serious expression, and lie through his teeth. "Absolutely not. Too controlling for me. Terrible taste in music. And she could never be as beautiful as Louise Tyler, of course." He shoots Louise his most sultry look, impressed with the results it achieves.

"So Henrik Hanssen, huh," Max says, having pondered the thought for a while. "Huh. Never really put them together, but I guess it makes sense. I'll update the bookmakers, let them know the change in the odds."

Sam's thrown for a moment, until he realises that Max is talking about a betting syndicate of some sort. "What are you betting on?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant as he fiddles with a piece of paper on top of the station.

Louise and Max exchange looks for a moment before simultaneously shrugging. "Might as well tell him," Louise says.

"We're betting on Mrs B's next love interest," Max says. "And you've just take a nosedive in the stakes, I'm sorry to say."

Sam's intrigued – and also extremely amused. This is exactly the sort of thing that he would have been involved in up on Darwin, if it wasn't for the fact that he was the love interest. It's also exactly the sort of thing that Connie would hate: her private life becoming the domain of her professional one. This conundrum is why they had always been doomed to fail, before…but not anymore.

"So who are the contenders?" Sam asks. "And no, before you ask, I won't tell Con…nie. Er, yes, no I won't tell her. I think she'd think it was my idea and murder me."

Max grins, though he still looks a little suspicious. "Alright, I'll tell you – but I'll murder you if you sprag, got it?"

"Yeah, got it?" Louise adds.

"Got it," Sam confirms.

"So, there's yourself, um…Jacob Masters to make a return, he's currently on strong odds I think," Max says, squinting. Sam assumes this is to help him remember; it's not particularly bright in the department. "Now there's Hanssen…Jac Naylor's on the list, along with Guy Self…Dylan was for a minute until we all realised that that was never going to happen…some old dude that she's friends with from Darwin – you'll know his name…"

"Elliott?" Sam scoffs. "You're joking; he's like her dad. He sends Grace birthday presents from grandad. It's quite sweet. He's definitely not worth betting on."

"I'll make sure to tell Noel that Elliott is the most likely candidate so far," Max says, laughing. "And, I think that's it really."

"So…you haven't got a single contender from outside this hospital?" Sam confirms, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Wow. Maybe expand your horizons a bit – or expand the bets. Will she get with someone in the department, or will it be the hospital…or even outside the hospital? I hear that she sometimes actually leaves Holby City Hospital, and men do exist outside, I'm led to believe."

Max looks contemplative. "Hm, maybe, thanks. Well, I think I best be off, patients to wheel. See you later, guys."

Sam turns away too, proud to have deflected the heat off of him as a potential suitor for Connie, in the department's eyes.

Little does he know that Max is actually shortening the odds of Sam Strachan and Connie Beauchamp.


.x.

There's another knock at the door, mere minutes after Sam left, and Connie looks up, a little irritated. She's not even due to start on the rota for another ten minutes – surely there's at least one other doctor around?

But then she sees Henrik Hanssen standing there, and her heart sinks. It's rare for Henrik to actually make his way downstairs to the ED – he usually sends for Connie, as he did a few weeks previously. Something either very good (or very bad) has happened.

Or maybe he's heard about her and Sam, and has come to warn her about inter-workplace relations. This wouldn't surprise her; Henrik knows everything, and is usually about ten steps ahead of everyone else in the building. If anyone suspects anything, it's Henrik.

"Henrik, what a nice surprise," Connie says drily as the CEO steps into her office. "How strange, for you to actually visit the lowly depths of the ED."

Henrik doesn't smile, merely nods, as he enters the room and closes the door. "It's not a social call, Connie," he replies, looking around at the room and noticing the drawn blinds. "Is there any particular reason that all of your blinds are drawn…at nine in the morning?"

She stares back, icily, her mind not even going to Sam Strachan. "I work more efficiently when people aren't gawping into my office," she explains, dropping her pen. "Henrik, I'm very busy this morning, so if you could just get to the point of your visit…"

He drops into the visitor seat, and removes an envelope from his jacket, placing it on Connie's desk. "For you. I also received a copy of the letter."

Intrigued – and a little apprehensive – Connie reaches out for the envelope. Her heart sinks when she sees the postmark: the Hospital Inspections Team.

"Ah," she murmurs, gaining a little clarity into the cloak and dagger situation. This can't be good.

She opens the envelope, pulls out the letter inside, and reads:

This is a formal notification of inspection of the Emergency Department at Holby City Hospital. This inspection is a full-day inspection, considering all aspects of patient care, doctor professionalism and the efficiency of the teamwork. It will also assess the leadership of the department, given the series of changes in the role of Clinical Lead over the past year.

This inspection will occur Monday 7th August 2017.

Yours Sincerely,

Michael Turner

Chief Inspector for the NHS

Connie's heart sinks. Whilst she's never minded having inspections of her departments – they're always in an excellent state – this is clearly a surprise inspection. A quick mental calculation suggests that there shouldn't be another inspection down here for another year at least. So what exactly has gone wrong – and what possible reason would the Chief Inspector have for wanting to inspect her ED at such short notice?

"Well, this certainly throws a spanner in the works," Connie murmurs, looking up from the letter to Hanssen. "I'll call Jac and let her know that I won't be upstairs for the rest of the week. I need to prepare for this, and work out exactly why we've managed to get an early inspection."

Henrik shakes his head. "No. You will still go upstairs tomorrow to discuss the proposal. You have a tight deadline that you have set yourself, Connie, and I will not see you fail."

The ice is replaced by anger as Connie throws the letter onto the desk. She shoots Henrik a stern look of disgust, shaking her head

"No, Henrik," she argues back. "I told you that, should my work on Darwin affect the Emergency Department, I would return immediately. And look, in a three week absence, we've managed to get ourselves an inspection notice! I cannot – and I will not – let my department suffer, just to maintain Darwin's Centre of Excellence status!"

Henrik shakes his head. "I have given you your orders, Mrs Beauchamp – and I insist that you carry them out. It's up to you how you fit in your work in the ED around Darwin, as I do appreciate that you need to be here more for the next couple of days. Perhaps working the weekend?" She can tell that he's enjoying this opportunity to throw back her negotiations in her face – but unfortunately, she can tell that he's right.

There's no way that she can't prepare for this inspection over the weekend. All she's thankful for is the fact that she didn't arrange anything solid with Grace, because she would absolutely have had to cancel.

"Right, well," Connie begins, thinking through things in her head. "That doesn't impact on the fact that this issue has arisen after my departure, Henrik. Things can't continue as they are."

"And once again, Mrs Beauchamp, you are wrong," Henrik retorts, setting another piece of paper on Connie's desk. This time, it isn't enclosed in an envelope, and this time, it's addressed directly to Henrik Hanssen. "As the inspection was triggered on the day you accepted my offer to work with Jac Naylor, not after. It appears that Doctor Keogh's inability to build a strong patient rapport has come back to bite us. Imagine calling the son of a hospital inspector a liar."

Connie snatches up the piece of paper and reads through the lengthy complaint, feeling her blood boil more and more with every sentence. It's less the details of the complaint – or even the fact that this happened with the son of a medical inspector – but more that Dylan, someone she has trusted with her department, didn't feel that he should inform her of the situation.

"Very well," Connie concedes, looking back at Henrik. "Our arrangement still stands. Now, I have a lot to arrange, so if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, of course," Henrik replies, though with none of his usual amusement. "I hope you sort this, Connie. I couldn't imagine losing you."

Only as he walks out of the office, does Connie realise that a poor inspection result means that she loses her job – and her life at Holby City Hospital.


.x.

She gives herself a moment to collect herself after Henrik Hanssen leaves her office, and then Connie Beauchamp strides out of the office, on the hunt for Doctor Keogh. She's not sure if she can keep her temper with him, but at least she'll be able to keep it in until they reach her office.

"Ah, Mrs Beauchamp," she hears Sam call after her, but she ignores him. She doesn't want to – or need to – talk to him. In the workplace, they don't exist. In the workplace, she is, at best, closed off and cool and professional with him. At worst, she's sarcastic and blunt. "Nice to see you on the shop floor."

Connie turns around, exasperated. "Mr Strachan," she stresses, "do you not have patients to see? I'm sure I don't pay you to just stand around." She knows that her expression is icy and cold and part of her regrets it with him, but he needs to learn when to leave her alone. And that's at work.

He looks a little confused. "But…Are you okay?"

And now she's actually infuriated at him, as well as with Doctor Keogh, because Sam Strachan seems incapable of separating their personal and professional lives! Three weeks ago, he wouldn't have asked her if she was okay, so why is he now?

"If you do not see a patient within the next thirty seconds, I will have you disciplined for a poor work ethic," Connie spits out. "Good day, Mr Strachan."

.

She finally finds Dylan in cubicles, and summons him to her office. He doesn't resist or challenge her, but follows, meekly for Dylan. Connie waits until he's seated and the door is closed – and nobody is loitering outside – before she begins her tirade.

"So I understand that you treated a Sean Taylor three weeks ago," she begins, already pure ice. It's good to know that three weeks of being open and gentle with Sam Strachan hasn't weakened her ability to make men quake.

Dylan swallows and then nods. "Yes. He came in with a sprain, having not bothered to go to his GP or Minor Injuries Units – or, it seems, his father. He was rude, critical and had absolutely no reason to be in the department."

"He was a seventeen year old boy, Dylan! Of course he's going to be rude and critical, regardless of who his father is!" Connie explodes. She had expected to last a little longer – she hadn't expected Dylan to go straight in on the offensive. Once again, she overestimated Doctor Keogh. "The complaint is one issue…the fact that Michael Taylor is leading an inspection of this department on Monday is quite completely another!"

Dylan's face blanches. "Ah. I understand."

This just infuriates Connie further. "Anything you want to say in your defence? Or is I understand enough for you, Doctor Keogh? Would you like to be the one to tell the team that we have to undergo an unnecessary inspection simply because you couldn't handle a hormonal teenager?"

"I…I'm sorry for not dealing with it properly – or telling you," Dylan mutters. "I should have let you know."

Connie softens infinitesimally. "You should have," she agrees. "I could have prepared, rather than having three and a half days to prepare for an inspection."

"I'll help, as much as I can," Dylan immediately offers. Connie's pleasantly surprised, though she's not entirely sure how much she wants his help. "I'm truly sorry, I didn't think that it would come to this."

Slowly, Connie nods. "Very well. I'm willing to overlook this transgression. But mark my words, Dylan, if we fail this inspection…I can't guarantee that I can protect you."

"Thank you," Dylan mutters, barely audibly. "I'll help with paperwork – I should have done it anyway. Or anything you need, really."

"No," Connie says immediately. "I've seen your paperwork. Cover Mr Strachan's shift and send him in here, now. At least he can do paperwork to the standard I expect."

Dylan takes this as his cue to leave and walks towards the door, pausing to say, "I am sorry, Connie."

"I know," she replies off-hand, looking to her computer screen. "I just hope that nobody loses out because you couldn't keep your temper."


.x.

Half an hour later, there's another knock at the door. Thankfully, Dylan must have told people to not disturb her, because, despite a flurry of activity, nobody has disturbed her.

This time, it's Sam again.

She softens a little as she beckons for him to come in. She was too harsh on him before; he didn't know that she was having a bad day, and he only wanted to help. But, she counters, they're not supposed to exist in Holby City Hospital. He shouldn't care if she's having a bad day. He needs to pretend that he doesn't.

"You wanted to see me?" Sam asks, his voice cold.

"Yes, close the door," Connie replies quietly, unable to muster enough anger to speak more loudly. "Sam, I'm sorry about before," she says as soon as the door is shut. "It's turned into a bad day, and…"

"And I shouldn't have asked you if you were okay because we don't exist inside the hospital," Sam finishes for her, moving across the office to take a seat. "Yeah, I know. You didn't need to bite my head off, though."

"Read this, and then you'll see why," Connie retorts, handing Sam the inspection letter.

"What?" Sam says as he reaches the date of the inspection. "That's Monday! Surely Hanssen can't expect you to…"

"Yes he can and he does – the complaint came in on the day I accepted his offer, so it doesn't invalidate our agreement," Connie explains. "I am sorry, Sam, about before. But you need to understand that our personal and professional lives are separate. When we're here, we need to act like the last month hasn't happened: we're still at one another's throats, okay?"

Sam raises an eyebrow. "So why exactly am I in here? As normally, you'd shout at me with the door open, at the very least."

Connie shrugs. "I didn't call you in here to shout at you," she says. "Plus, I owed you an apology."

"Apology accepted," Sam replies. "I take it that this means you won't be home much over the weekend…and you won't be leaving on time today."

She smiles a rueful smile. "Accurate. Though you won't be leaving on time today, either. I need you to help me with the paperwork, and do a complete audit on every filing system in the department. We are not failing on paperwork."

Sam turns unsmiling. "Why me?" She can tell he's biting his tongue, that he wants to add something; little does she know that he wants to tell her that her staff are betting on them.

"Because I trained you to complete paperwork to the highest standard," she reminds him. "And, although Dylan offered, I don't think I could keep up an icy atmosphere for a full day; that's too much effort."

"And I take it we're not having lunch together?" Sam confirms.

"If lunch counts as a sandwich in here, then yes, we can," Connie replies gently. "But, Sam, I'm sorry…but we're going to have to be on-hold until this inspection is over. I can't jeopardise the department."

Sam nods. "I understand – I'd do the same," he adds, but Connie doesn't believe him. "I'm still going to make you come home, though. You can't work for four days straight…I'll make sure you look after yourself."

She smiles a half-smile, but it reaches her eyes. She can't stay mad at him; it's impossible, even here. "Thank you. Now, get started on the paperwork – do it just the way I like it!"


.x.

At eleven forty, Connie steps out of her office and addresses the gathered team. There's one or two missing – Sam, who's still in the office, Lily and Nurse Johnson who are in recess, and a few of the agency nurses. But the bulk of her team who are working today are here – and the ones who are day off have already been told.

"As some of you may already know, we have received official notice of an inspection for Monday morning," Connie begins, deliberately not looking at Dylan. "Now, before you start complaining, why we are being inspected isn't the issue. We need to pull together and ensure that we're all on our toes and prepared for Monday. We are a team, and we can do this – together. Doctors Gardner, Keogh, Hardy, please come and see me today – I've had to amend the rota slightly, to ensure that we will succeed. Thank you, all."

Though she does her best to sound confident, Connie's not entirely sure what the future will bring for her department – and whether throwing herself back into work will destroy all progress she's made with Grace…


Please let me know your thoughts! I'll hopefully update early next week.