Tanith Panic, I would like to give Rita the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn't realise what was odd about Robyn's holiday request until it was too late, but she could have done a better job of breaking the news! It was very sad about Mabel and it explains why Dylan was so worried about Dervla being fed chocolate when she was missing. Thank you for your review.
LudoJudo, thank you for your reviews - it's so lovely to have another reader and I'm so happy you're enjoying it. I like it when Connie is funny, but it doesn't happen often! I'd forgotten about the cheese sandwich and fizzy drink - I wonder if I can work it into this chapter before I post it. Thank you for reminding me!
Robyn stormed into the staff room and wasn't sure if she was relieved it was empty or not. She kicked one of the lockers; kicked a stool for good measure; then she went and kicked the sofa.
It didn't help. It just made her feel guilty. Because, you know: maybe lockers, stools and sofas do have feelings. Just because we've never heard them talk, it doesn't mean they can't.
Robyn wished they would talk. Because maybe then, they would be magic and they'd let her make a wish so she could change the rota. Oh, and make all her Christmas romantic dreams come true.
The fact they could still come true at work was no consolation. It wouldn't be the same at work. You couldn't fill work with mistletoe, hearts and flowers.
"It's not FAAAAAAIIIIIRRRRRRR!" shouted Robyn as she walked over to the table and slapped it hard, but even that didn't relieve her feelings very much, though it did hurt her hands.
"What isn't fair?" said Louise.
"I'm working CHRISTMAS!" said Robyn, slightly surprised Louise didn't know. She'd mentioned it enough times.
"So am I," said Louise. "So's everyone who knows how to have fun. Me, Lofty…"
"…Mrs Beauchamp?" said Robyn.
Louise laughed. "I don't think we should let Mrs Beauchamp stop us from enjoying Christmas."
"But I had it all arranged!" wailed Robyn. "My perfect romantic Christmas dream."
Louise came closer, a curious look on her face. "Why are you working Christmas anyway? I thought you said you put your form in."
"I did put my form in!" said Robyn. "But I did it for next Christmas, didn't I?"
"And Rita accepted it anyway?" Louise looked disgusted. "What's wrong with her? Has Iain gone off her or something? Any decent person would have guessed it was a mistake and sorted it out."
Robyn sighed. "She probably didn't realise straight away. She could tell there was something odd about it, but she didn't try to work out what: she just accepted it. And now, all my romantic plans are ruined. RUINED!"
"You do know there are more important things than romance, right?" said Louise. "I mean, we get along all right without it."
"You might get along all right without it," said Robyn sadly. "But Christmas won't be Christmas without romance for me."
Dylan stopped outside Connie's door and peered through the glass partition. She was there and she looked busy, but if Dylan wanted to wait for a time when she wasn't busy, he'd probably have to wait for her retirement.
He tapped lightly on the door and waited, hoping this wouldn't take too long. He wanted to get back to Ben before he found another doctor to work with. It was difficult when Ben kept rejecting him – or perhaps not so much rejecting him as ensuring that they never had the chance to speak freely – but Dylan wasn't giving up.
He wanted to believe the reason why he didn't want to give up was because he was strong and determined and in control, but he had a feeling it might be more to do with the fact that he couldn't bear to believe it was over.
They'd been so happy together. Happiness couldn't die completely just because of one argument. Admittedly, Dylan hadn't been very kind, but he'd heard a lot worse from some of his patients. They were always screaming at each other and breaking up and getting engaged. In Resus; in cubicles; everywhere. Anyone would think they were in a soap opera.
If Dylan ever decided to propose to Ben, which was looking increasingly unlikely considering their current situation, he would not be proposing in the hospital.
No.
It hadn't even crossed his mind.
Not for one moment.
Certainly not.
"Come in!" called Connie from inside her office. He went in and Connie lifted her eyes from her work just long enough to give Dylan an impatient glance. "What is it, Dr Keogh?"
"I'm just letting you know that I will be available to work on Christmas Day after all," said Dylan, trying to keep his voice calm and emotionless.
"We have a full complement of staff for Christmas Day," said Connie dismissively, her eyes on whatever she was doing.
"No. No, I would like to work," said Dylan.
"We don't need you," said Connie. "So go home, enjoy your Christmas, and for God's sake, sort it out with Lofty."
Dylan looked at Connie, wondering if she was psychic or if she actually listened to gossip. He thought the first was more likely. "That's what I'm trying to do. Ben's working on Christmas Day."
Connie smiled sweetly. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we? Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy."
"A lot of people use a 4.0," said Dylan, who was for some reason explaining suturing to Ben. "I prefer a 5.0. It's finer. There's less scarring."
Ben said nothing. There was no reason why Dylan shouldn't use a 5.0 instead of a 4.0. They were almost the same, except that a 5.0 was smaller, and both were used for skin closure. But Ben knew the real difference between them. It was all to do with the number.
He wanted to tell Dylan that using a 4.0 would be fine and he could do it, but he couldn't. In the first place, there was a patient present and Ben knew Dylan didn't like his problems to be discussed in front of the patients – which was understandable. In the second place, Ben had no right to support him anymore.
Dylan kept on talking to him; requesting to work with him; behaving as though they were friends, but Ben didn't want to be friends. He loved Dylan, but Dylan had hurt him and he needed a bit more than Dylan behaving as though nothing had happened. Or as though what had happened didn't matter.
"You need to make sure that each stitch is exactly the same distance apart," said Dylan. "You'll need to practise, obviously. If you want to be Band Six, you'll need to practise."
He sounded so impersonal. When they'd been together, that hadn't bothered Ben because he knew Dylan cared about him and he'd become adept at recognising his emotions, even when he showed none.
But now, Ben couldn't be sure of anything at all. Even if he was sure, forgiving wasn't that simple. It was one thing to show you still cared – if that was what Dylan was doing. It was another to realise you'd done wrong and be sorry for it.
"Well… Band Six is about managerial skills," said Ben. Trying not to sound defensive, he added: "And there's nothing wrong with my suturing."
"Well, your suturing is, um, well… a bit like your hair, isn't it?" said Dylan. "Could be neater."
Ben frowned. Dylan loved his hair. Or at least, he used to. He'd loved running his fingers through it and making it messier. When they'd been together, a mention of his hair had been a method of flirtation between them. Even the most disparaging comment was a compliment because it showed Dylan had looked at his hair and cared enough to comment on it.
But it wasn't good enough.
Ben wished he could forgive him. Perhaps he was wrong not to. Maybe it really was a tiny thing that nobody else would get upset about.
But he couldn't and it hurt him that Dylan could carry on as though it hadn't happened. Ben was trying his best to appear normal too so he wouldn't worry anyone, but he already knew he hadn't succeeded. Everyone had noticed how miserable Ben was, but Dylan seemed much as normal.
Ben lifted a gloved hand and started fingering the curly strands. He didn't think it was any messier than usual.
He saw Dylan's heard turn slightly, then he sighed. "You need to change your gloves."
He didn't say that Band Six nurses never needed to change their gloves because they never played with their hair, but Ben couldn't help wondering if Dylan was thinking it.
"Is this the worst Christmas ever?" said Robyn.
"It's the worst Christmas ever," agreed Ben.
"I mean, I know we've got to work sometimes," said Robyn. "I get that. But it's the way they got our hopes up."
Ben had always known that getting Christmas off was a long shot, but he found himself nodding anyway.
They set their coffees down on the staffroom table and sat with miserable faces, their chins propped up on their hands.
Worst. Christmas. Ever.
"The bells were ringing out for Christmas Day!" sang Jacob as he walked into the staff room.
Ben and Robyn said nothing. They just turned and looked at him. Slowly, Jacob seemed to realise his happiness was not wanted. His smile faded and he quickly left the room.
"Suppose I'd better go and ring my mum," said Robyn, getting up and going to her locker.
"There's always next year," said Ben hollowly.
"Doesn't help me now, though, does it?" said Robyn.
"Well, at least you don't spend lunch with the Grinch that Stole Christmas," said Ben. It was customary for him to make a dig at Dylan every now and then. They'd agreed it would stop people from guessing. Usually, it made Ben feel guilty, but today, he just felt sad.
The fact that Dylan had bought him a cheese sandwich and a fizzy drink didn't change what Dylan had said. He hated to think that Dylan might be buying his affection back to avoid having a conversation about it, but he knew that could be exactly what was happening. Dylan, after all, made a habit of avoiding conversations - though not usually conversations with Ben.
Robyn took her phone out of her locker. Ben heard the sound of a text message arriving. He raised his coffee to his lips.
Robyn screamed.