I scanned the others, and they were chatting, happy. I shrugged and thanked her and poured a glass of my own, and it was a dumb idea to drink it as quickly as I did and pour another, because I hadn’t managed any dinner yet, and I barely drank anything ever, not even when I was out with Liam, but still. Nerves, you know. Nerves asked for prosecco, and the prosecco delivered.
It delivered me staring over at Dr Hall, without being able to hide a peep of it anymore. It delivered me laughing along with my new hospital friends, but fluttering right through me at the thought of walking away from this chance – this one little chance at actually speaking with him.
I was plucking up the courage, I really was. I was sipping away at my drinks and flashing him glances he’d flash back at me, and I was getting ready to do it. Getting ready to clear my throat and head around the table to chat with him, like it was the most natural thing of all time.
But he didn’t give me the chance.
It wasn’t even ten p.m. when he got up from his seat and said his goodbyes. He told Gina he was happy to have worked with her for so long, and to keep him informed about the new little member of his family, and everyone smiled along, but nobody attempted to slow him down or make him hang around for another drink. I imagine they’d all figured out there was no point trying.
I held my hand up and said have a nice weekend to him like all the others, but my heart was thumping wild. My whole body tensing.
Gina saw it. She slipped up closer, while Dr Hall was still visible through the front windows walking away.
“Do it,” she whispered. “Do it now, or forever hold your peace. Events like this don’t come up very often. Do it!”
I should have shaken it off and got back to my prosecco. Definitely. There’s no way I should’ve faked a yawn and grabbed my coat from the back of the seat before telling everyone I’d had a lovely evening and see you later.
It took a few minutes to say my goodbyes, and I was jittery the whole time, itching to get going and chase my chance.
Gina pulled me in for a hug as I finally left the table, but it was a quick one.
“Now go!” she whispered. “He’s probably already halfway to the train station.”
I kissed her on the cheek before I went, and I did it. I dashed on nervous legs right the way from Casey’s down Hampton Street and turned back along the high street. I raced along on stupid sparkly sandal heels right the way down towards the train station, but still there was no sign of Dr Hall.
I cursed myself as I reached the station entrance, worried I may have left it too late and he was already on a train and off on his way, but no. There he was, standing on the platform, staring off into nowhere until he heard the clack of my heels.
His eyes widened, just a little, and I slowed the hell down, pretending I hadn’t just shot across town like a racehorse to catch him up. It didn’t work. It was obvious to both of us what I was doing there. More unspoken… stuff… brewing right there as I panted for breath with flushed red cheeks.
I thought he was about to say something but the train came loudly into the station, bringing with it a draught of air that blew right over us. It took my breath, sent shivers right through me. I saw it in him, too. People stepped off through the doors, but neither of us moved, just stared at each other in the orange glow of the train windows.
I took a massive, massive gulp as I stepped onto that train, two doorways along from where Dr Hall was standing. It wasn’t even the trainline I needed, but I didn’t care. I had to take that chance.
Thank you, prosecco.
Please, universe, can you be a decent friend to me, as well?
I stumbled along to the train seat I used to sit in every single morning and dropped myself down with a pounding heart.
Please, universe! PLEASE!
The whistle sounded, and my heart dropped, wondering if maybe Dr Hall had bailed to get a different train, or chosen to sit a few carriages over in safety from crazy girl. But no.
It was his shadow first, approaching from behind. My heart was doing somersaults as he took his usual seat, and his eyes clamped on mine.
The train was pulling away from the station by the time he spoke.
“You seem to be on the wrong train,” he said, and he knew it well and true. We both did.