"I can't believe you're still here, Ric." Connie said, smiling now as he poured her another glass of single malt. She held up the glass thoughtfully. "But I'm glad your taste in whisky has improved, you must have paid off your debts."
Ric chuckled. "Finally. And really, it's no surprise to anyone that I'm still at Holby. I keep coming back. I don't even know why, everyone else has moved on."
"Not Jac. Or Hanssen." Connie observed with a note of bitterness.
"I meant the old crowd. Although, some of them are never coming back."
They both knew he was talking about Diane, and Connie looked down at her glass.
"I came back, didn't I?" She said quietly.
"Not to where you belong." He replied quickly.
Connie knocked back another mouthful of the amber liquid.
"Do you remember…" She started.
Ric's lip twitched. "Of course I do."
"A lot has happened since that night. So many years, so many people." She said pensively.
"Do you wish you could go back, do things differently?"
Connie considered his question as the alcohol warmed her, she felt it loosening her tongue.
"Mostly, no. Even the politics, the battles, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. But some things, maybe. Missed opportunities perhaps."
"It was never like you to miss opportunities." Ric replied, referring to her enormous ambition.
"What if we could go back, just for a little while?" Connie asked, turning to face him on the sofa, unsure whether the idea that was forming in her head was reckless stupidity or something that would help to heal her.
"I don't quite catch your meaning." Ric said, pouring himself another drink and avoiding her eye.
"Oh yes you do. You know exactly what I mean."