Ross wondered whether that wouldn’t be a little too much honesty, but Laurie shot him a wry smile. ‘I don’t blame her. I’d feel exactly the same.’
She knew. And she seemed more comfortable with Ross’s direct approach than Sam’s kindly tact. When the bus came, she passed her suitcase up to him with only a minimal amount of protest, allowing him to lift it on board and tuck it into the storage compartment under the stairs. They made the earlier train with enough time to get coffee for the journey from the kiosk at the station.
Ross waited until the passengers were all seated, then settled himself into the seat opposite Laurie’s, and the train pulled out of the station and began gathering speed.
He’d done exactly as he’d intended today. Laurie was becoming involved with the work of the clinic, and that involvement seemed to be tempering her approach to her own injury. Adam seemed to be looking forward to his stay at the clinic now, which was a great deal more than he had been. Mission accomplished. So why did this feel like a hollow victory?
Ross had begun to enjoy the challenge that was woven into their relationship, believing that maybe it was the way that Laurie interacted with everyone. But now he’d seen her with Adam, he’d realised that she could reach out to someone. It had led him to the inescapable conclusion that she just didn’t want to reach out to him.
That was fine. It was okay. Laurie could do whatever she wanted to. Ross needed to take responsibility for his own feelings, and ask himself why it irked him so much.
He just needed to take one look at Laurie for the answer. She’d taken a book from her bag and was concentrating on the pages, unaware of his gaze. He’d been the odd one out most of his life, the friend at school who lived too far from town to be included in trips to the cinema or parties. For a few brief years, when he and Alice had been together, he’d thought that he could finally belong, as part of a couple and then a family. That hadn’t worked out and now he was the odd man at dinner parties, the table carefully arranged so that it wasn’t too obvious. The one who went home alone.
He’d reconciled himself to that, and made the best of it. But Laurie had awakened the yearning for more, and he wanted her to notice him. Maybe even be a little bit special to her.
Ross opened his laptop, switching it on. It shouldn’t happen, and if all the little reminders that it wasn’t going to happen stung, he’d better just get used to it.
* * *
‘Did you follow up with Ann? About Adam’s trainer?’
Ross looked up from the article he was reading on his laptop. Laurie was still holding her book in front of her, and the question had come straight out of the blue.
‘I did, as a matter of fact, while we were in the kitchen. She’s sure that overtraining isn’t the cause of his injury, the trainer’s a friend of the family and she shares Ann’s view that Adam should enjoy his sport and have time for other things.’
Laurie nodded. ‘Okay.’
This clearly wasn’t the end of the matter. Ross closed his laptop. ‘You’re not satisfied?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Kids cover things up. An adult always has that implied authority, and if the trainer is pushing him too hard, he might not say anything.’
‘Or it might be that the trainer isn’t pushing him.’
Laurie glowered at him, folding her arms and letting the book slide onto her lap. Something told Ross that this wasn’t over, and he swallowed down the familiar rush of excitement.
‘All right. Say it. You may as well, I know you’re thinking it.’ She was keeping her voice low so that other people in the carriage wouldn’t hear her, but he was under no illusion that if they’d been alone she probably would have been on her feet and calling him out by now.
‘I think that you may be looking for something that isn’t there. Because of your own experience.’ He murmured the words quietly.
‘You might be right.’ Laurie wrinkled her nose at the thought. ‘And this is exactly why I thought that working with kids wasn’t a good idea.’
‘It’s exactly why I think it is. You connected with Adam in a way I haven’t managed to. And you care about him, enough to explore every avenue.’
‘I can’t...’ She shook her head. ‘I do care. Maybe a bit too much, because I can’t be impartial.’
‘Okay. Let me be impartial. You be his advocate. As long as we both know where we stand, that’s fine.’ Ross sucked in a breath, knowing he was about to take a chance. ‘Or you could decide that I’m wrong about all of this and you’d rather do the filing.’
At least she was thinking about it, not just firing back a knee-jerk reaction. Laurie pursed her lips.
‘All right. I can be his advocate. Can we put that in the job description because I won’t be giving you an inch if I feel you’re not addressing his issues.’
‘Be my guest. Since you don’t have a job description, you may as well write your own. Along with your own treatment plan...’
What was he doing? Ross had never suggested that anyone write their own job description or treatment plan, but he had an idea that if he gave Laurie a little room she might just come up with something that was both innovative and brilliant. Taking a chance on her didn’t seem any risk, as long as he watched her carefully.
‘You’ll be wanting to see them
, though.’ She eyed him charily.