westlife4ever80, you would expect Dylan to be good at reading body language, but he really is far more interested in the illnesses than in the patients and he completely disregards most social conventions. So I can imagine him ignoring body language too, maybe. Thank you for your review.

X-Sammii-X, I agree Zoe wants to be loved, but I think she's also a bit afraid of it. She genuinely loves Max, but I think she's afraid he might hurt her. She doesn't really love Dylan in that way so she feels less vulnerable and more able to trust him. Does that make any sense at all? I love Dylan you for your review.

Bonnie Sveen Fan, thank you for your review. I meant by the last sentence that Dylan was thinking of Angela, but he genuinely loves Zoe, so maybe he is starting to consider a relationship at this point (I know I wrote it, but I often change my mind about what I meant based on reviews). I'm glad you liked the underwear scene.

Tanith Panic, thank you for your review. Maybe I did miss a trick by not letting Dylan go underwear-shopping with Zoe! I can imagine the reactions of the other shoppers too. There are other chapters to come though, so it could happen! Unless you want to write it.

LoveFiction2016, Zoe is speaking hypothetically about a relationship with Dylan. She's trying to convince Dylan that he's already agreed to the relationship - in the hope that he'll decide going along with it is easier than arguing. I can imagine it would work with less important matters, but not with a relationship! Thank you for your review.

Thank you to Francesca Willows for the follow.

Ethan was enjoying getting the better of Cal for a change. Of course, he was mainly doing this for Dylan's benefit, but the fact it meant scuppering Cal's plans with Angela wasn't exactly a deterrent.

Ethan checked no-one was around and quickly typed a text to Angela. I don't suppose you'd like to go for a drink after work? I'll invite Dylan too. I can't promise he'll come, but if he does and things are going well, I'll slip away at an opportune moment and leave you to enjoy each other's company.

Angela texted back to say she'd love to.

Ethan jumped as a hand descended on his shoulder. He glared at his brother. "Maybe you should buy some shoes like Mrs Beauchamp, Cal. Then perhaps you wouldn't be able to sneak up on me."

"I don't know about that: Mrs Beauchamp is surprisingly good at sneaking," said Cal.

"Thank you, Dr Knight," said Connie's voice from behind them.

Cal smiled, for once seemingly unabashed by his boss's sudden appearance. "Thank you for proving me right in front of my brother."

"You're welcome – but don't get used to it," said Connie.

"I don't think there's much chance you'll give me the opportunity," said Cal.

"It seems we're in agreement," said Connie. She paused. "But I wouldn't get used to that either." She continued speaking as she walked away. "I've heard you've made some good calls today. Keep up the good work… Dr Hardy."

Ethan tried not to smile at the look on Cal's face.

"Are you coming to the pub tonight?" asked Cal.

Ethan shook her head. "No – well, not across the road, I'm not. I'm going for a drink with Angela."

"Don't get back too late," said Cal sulkily.

"Who are you? My mother?" said Ethan. As soon as he'd said the words, he felt a pang of sadness he couldn't ignore. "I've already had two mothers and I think that's the perfect number." His voice had gone all wobbly. "I-I don't need you to be my mother too."

"Just looking out for you the way you look out for me," said Cal. He was silent for a while, gently stroking Ethan's arm. "Okay now?"

Ethan nodded.

Cal smiled. "I hope you have a good time with Angela. I won't pretend I'm not disappointed, but if anyone deserves a bit of happiness, it's you."

Ethan watched him go, feeling guilty now. Maybe deceiving Cal wasn't such a good idea after all.

Dylan looked at Ethan in amazement. He wouldn't have been completely surprised if the old Ethan had asked him to go for a drink, but he had the very strong impression that his drinking style and Ethan's were now very different.

"Not just the two of us," said Ethan. "Angela's coming too. Angela Hamilton. You know."

Oh yes, Dylan knew. "Perhaps… perhaps I'll think about it."

"Excellent!" said Ethan. "I'll see you after work."

Dylan nodded and was still inwardly debating the wisdom of this idea when Zoe approached him.

"Dylan, can I go home with you tonight?"

Dylan eyed her suspiciously. "You're not planning on seducing me, are you?" Zoe had been dropping hints about it all day. She'd also tried to initiate physical closeness by asking for a hug after the loss of a patient (Dylan had done it as she had seemed genuinely upset) and 'accidentally' walking into him.

"What? Oh, no. It's not that," said Zoe. "It's just I know that if I go off to the pub or if I'm on my own, I know I'm going to start drinking and God knows where I'll end up and who I'll end up with and what I'm going to say in my voicemails to Max. I've got to get out of this cycle somehow – I know I do – but I can't do it on my own. Please say you'll help me, Dylan."

For one second, Dylan imagined telling her he was busy tonight, but then he felt ashamed. Zoe was his friend. She was going through a marriage breakup, which Dylan knew for himself was extremely painful, and if he did leave her on her own tonight, she would almost certainly end up getting herself into a mess. "Of course you can stay."

Ethan was waiting in the staff room. "All set, Dylan?

"No," said Dylan. "Unfortunately, I'm going to be spending tonight with Zoe."

Ethan's eyebrows shot up and Zoe couldn't restrain a chuckle.

Dylan hurriedly rephrased the sentence. "What I mean is, I'm going to be spending the evening supporting a friend."

Ethan looked disappointed. "Oh, I see. I understand. Perhaps another time?"

"Perhaps," said Dylan, not particularly encouragingly.

"Look, if you already have plans…" said Zoe.

"Only very tentative," said Dylan.

"Extremely tentative," agreed Ethan. "It really isn't a problem at all."

Cal was woken up by a crashing sound and a cry of pain. He gasped and sat up, convinced for a moment he'd fallen asleep at the hospital, but he quickly realised he was in his own bed and the source of the noise was probably his younger brother.

Cal flicked the bedside light on and checked the time. 4am. Ethan had just arrived home drunk at 4am.

Cal got out of bed and found Ethan lying on the floor giggling, his arms wrapped around a large object that definitely had no place in the flat. "Ethan, what are you doing with that shopping trolley?"

"I thought it might be useful for when we went shopping," said Ethan. He rolled from side to side, laughing some more. His glasses were hanging off the side of his face (Cal tried to console himself with the thought that at least he still had them), but this didn't seem to bother him.

"How did you get it in the lift?" said Cal. He guessed the trolley, which had come from a local supermarket, would probably have fitted into the lift, but he wouldn't have thought there was room for the trolley and Ethan.

"I carried it up the stairs!" said Ethan gleefully. "Because I'm big and strong!"

"And drunk," said Cal. He knelt beside Ethan and put his glasses on properly. "Are you hurt? I heard you cry out."

"Hurt?" Ethan frowned. "I don't think so. I don't remember."

"You'd better go to bed," said Cal. He grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and hauled him up. "Did Angela get home okay?"

"Angela?" said Ethan vaguely.

"Your girlfriend," explained Cal wearily, wondering why Ethan was always so stupid when he was drunk. Cal had never had that problem himself. He'd always found that alcohol stimulated his brain and made him extremely intelligent and witty.

Ethan beamed. "Angela loves me!"

"She probably won't when she sees the state of you tomorrow morning," said Cal. He started to walk Ethan towards his bedroom, but Ethan seemed to have forgotten how to walk in a straight line.

"I feel pretty! Oh, so pretty!" sang Ethan. "I feel pretty and witty and gay!"

"I really hope you didn't sing that one to Angela," said Cal. "Actually, I really hope you didn't sing at all."

"Though I suppose, as it's night time, I should have gone with the original stage lyrics, not the film lyrics," said Ethan thoughtfully. "I feel pretty and witty and bright!" He pulled away from Cal without warning and started to spin in a circle. Then he stopped abruptly. "Cal, I feel sick!"

He really wasn't lying.

Dylan opened his eyes, wondering what had woken him. Dervla was cuddled against him. His back was aching, probably because he was sleeping on the sofa again. He was seriously reconsidering his decision to buy only the one bed when he'd moved into his new houseboat. He'd told himself that having a second bed was not only a waste of space, it only encouraged people to come and stay.

But all it meant was that when Zoe insisted on staying the night, Dylan had to make do with the sofa.

He tried to remember why Zoe was staying over this time and the events of the previous night quickly came back to him. He'd tried to spend the evening distracting Zoe from drinking and Max, but although he had managed to persuade her not to have a drink (it helped that there was no alcohol on the houseboat), they'd actually ended up spending the whole evening talking about Zoe's husband.

Dylan was now in possession of several facts about Max he really hadn't wanted to know, including the location of a certain birthmark; the noises he made when Zoe indulged in a particular piece of foreplay (he'd heard the noise before but had not wanted the mental image to go with it); and the reason why there was a very small scar on a very intimate part of Max's anatomy.

Dylan almost wished he and Zoe had got drunk. Perhaps then he wouldn't remember so much.

He closed his eyes. Whatever had woken him, there were no unusual sounds now, so he might as well go back to sleep. It was probably someone messing around outside the boat.

Unless…

Dylan's eyes snapped open.

Surely Zoe wouldn't have been so stupid as to sneak out after he'd gone to bed.

Dylan got up from the sofa very carefully so he wouldn't disturb Dervla. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the bedroom and opened the door, fully expecting to find either an empty and unmade bed or (worse), a bed occupied by two people: Zoe and either Max or a Max substitute.

As it happened, he saw neither. Only Zoe was there and she was sleeping soundly.

Dylan looked longingly at the half of the bed not occupied by Zoe but decided it would give her the wrong impression. Reluctantly, Dylan returned to the sofa.