Chapter 7

An hour later

"Dr Crawley?"

Sybil was leaving after her shift, already dreaming of a warm bath followed by an early bed, when an unwelcome voice interrupted her reverie.

She stopped at the nurses' station. "Yes, Nurse Braithwaite?"

"I wanted to let you know, a man stopped by to see you today, and I thought he was your fiancé, Mr Bellasis. So silly of me!"

"My fiancé? What are you talking about? I'm not engaged!"

"I'm sorry if I made a mistake – I heard you talking with Thomas Barrow the other day and I thought you said..."

"Oh, well if you had paid attention, you would have heard me say that Tom had proposed to me but I had decided to say no. Not that it is any of your business!"

She was about to sweep away in a huff, when something made her ask one more question.

"Why did you think it was Tom?"

The other woman smirked. "Because he said his name was Tom. Fairly small leap, I would have thought."

Sybil felt faint. "What do you mean, he said his name was Tom? Who are you talking about?"

"As I told you – a man stopped by to see you today, and he said his name was Tom. Broad shoulders, blue eyes, really good looking and the most gorgeous accent. But when I asked him if he was your fiancé, he just..."

"You asked him what?"

Thoughts were whirling through Sybil's head a million miles an hour. Tom! Tom was here, he was looking for me, he came to find me! He thinks I'm engaged! Oh God, where is he?

"Did he leave a message, say where he was going?"

"No, he didn't, but he mumbled something about the airport, I think."

"The airport? Oh no! I have to go after him. When was this?"

"About an hour ago, maybe. I'm not really sure."

She spoke to the empty air. Sybil was already gone.


Running into the terminal at Heathrow, she stopped, feeling a bit like Ross Geller in the last episode of "Friends". How can I hope to find him, among these thousands of people?

She stared around, not knowing what to do next. Then, she spotted the information counter and raced over to it.

"Please, oh, please, can you help me? Can you tell me if someone is on a certain flight? I've got to find him, I've just got to."

The middle aged man behind the counter looked at her, eyebrows arching sternly. "I'm sorry, miss, that kind of information is restricted. Security, you know."

"But you don't understand! I have to find him. Please, isn't there anything you can do?"

The man relented. "Now, now, my dear. What makes you think he is on a flight from this terminal today?"

"I know he is flying to New York today, and this seems to be where most of the flights go from."

"Here's something we can try. I can arrange for him to be paged. Would that help?"

By way of answer, she flung her arms around his neck. "Thank you, oh, thank you! You have no idea how much this matters, Mr..."

He smiled at her. "Carson, Charles Carson."

"Thank you, Mr Carson!"

Within a couple of minutes, an announcement was blaring through the terminal.

"Would an Irishman named Tom, en route to New York, please make himself known to airport staff, to receive an urgent message from Sybil."

Sybil waited anxiously for the next hour, focusing all her energy on scanning the crowd, hoping against hope that she wasn't too late. Then, Mr Carson touched her arm.

"My dear, I'm so sorry, but security has just been closed for the last flight to New York today. I don't think he is coming."

She collapsed on the floor, head in her hands, fighting the urge to throw up. Mr Carson came out from behind the counter and put his arm protectively around her shoulder.

"My dear girl, don't take on so. Is there someone I can call for you, someone who can come and pick you up?"

"Thank you, Mr Carson – I really appreciate you trying to help, but there's nothing you can do for me. Nothing at all."


She could only think of one place to go.

The idea of being at home in her flat, alone, thinking about what might have been, was intolerable, so she decided to go and visit one of her patients, sit with them a while. Perhaps thinking about someone else's troubles would take her mind off her own.

Turning up her collar against the evening chill, she walked towards the front door of the hospital.

"Sybil?"

A voice from the gloom. A voice she had only heard once before. A voice she would know anywhere.

She stumbled forward and almost fell against him. "Tom, it's you, it's you! You didn't leave, oh, thank God..."

Tom took Sybil's hand, looking at her as if he was afraid she would vanish into the mist. The burning intensity of his gaze brought a flush racing up her cheeks.

"After coming all this way, I couldn't leave without seeing you again, telling you how I feel about you." He took a breath. "Ever since that night, I can't eat, I can't sleep... all I can do is think about you. I know it's fast but I also know I love you, I love you so much. Are you really engaged?"

"No, I'm not, I never was, it was all a mistake. I love you too," she replied, tears welling from her eyes.

He gently wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. Then, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, finding her mouth with his.

"Don't cry, darling, I'm here, it's OK, everything's going to be OK," he murmured between kisses.

And, as she clung to him, she knew he was right.


A/N -

Aww, you can always trust me to bring our babies together eventually!

Thank you so much for your reviews so far, I love hearing what you think. Next up - an M-rated chapter... ;)