Her brow creased. ‘What do you mean don’t?’
It was too late to pull it back, but now was the time to say something that had been on his mind. ‘You work every single day. We hardly ever get to spend time together. You know—like a normal couple. How about we have a day off together—a night off together where one, or both of us, doesn’t have to get up at five in the morning to go into work.’ He gave a sad kind of smile. ‘Believe it or not, I actually like waking up next to you. How about we try and do it at least once a week?’
Her mouth was open, but she wasn’t actually speaking. He had no idea what was currently spinning around in her mind. All he knew was his stomach was churning in case he’d just played this entirely wrong.
But Esther’s eyes were on his, and the only thing he could see in them was warmth. ‘A night falling asleep in each other’s arms, and waking up the same way, could be kind of nice,’ she said.
He moved around the counter towards her. ‘It could,’ he agreed.
She slipped her arm around his waist and smartly pulled his phone from his back pocket. ‘Let me check your shifts. There’s no point in me turning down these if you’re already scheduled to work.’
He held his breath while she checked. She bit her bottom lip, then looked up at him. ‘Okay, next Saturday. We’ll have our first official day—and night—off together.’
He punched a fist into air. ‘At last.’
Esther wasn’t quite sure what came over her. She’d been so used to working seven days every week that the shock of taking one day off a week to spend with Harry felt like a permanent holiday.
She dined in some gorgeous restaurants; they attended the theatre together, went for long walks around some of the parks in London and enjoyed a private ride on the London Eye at night.
She tried hard to stop thinking about money all the time. That was her issue, not his.
But the best times were the ones where they just curled up on his sofa and watched TV. She was hardly spending any time in her own flat now. It seemed easier to stay at Harry’s. A few of her possessions had taken up residence in his town house—her favourite cookbook, a framed photo with her mum and most of her clothes. Life felt like a fairy tale.
She’d gotten used to the stares at work, and the quiet whisperings. Hospitals were always the same. Next week, somebody else would be hospital news and she and Harry would just fade into the background.
In the meantime she was happy living a life that felt like part of a fairy tale.
She rubbed her eyes as she headed to the cash machine. Night shifts were never her favourite time. Every cell in her body protested to the wrench of its natural flow. She slid her card and blinked as she saw her balance. That couldn’t be right.
She pressed a few other buttons. But the figure didn’t change.
Her mouth went dry. There was a standard amount of money she always sent her mother and that would still be covered, but for the last few months, she’d managed to send an extra few hundred pounds because of all the shifts she covered. Her mother had never asked her for more. But Esther liked to do it.
This month, the money wasn’t there. And she knew why.
Harry.
She leaned against the wall for a few minutes. She’d been turning down shifts on a regular basis. She still did one extra every week. But all of a sudden it didn’t seem like enough.
Her stomach growled loudly and she walked to the vending machine to buy a sandwich, and stopped. She could do without. It wasn’t like she’d fade away to nothing.
Her skin prickled. Her spending habits had changed in the last few weeks too. She’d stopped being so thrifty. She’d started heading to the canteen a few times a week instead of bagging her lunch. She didn’t want him to pay for everything while they were out—even though he tried to insist. But those casual purchases of popcorn and coffee were all adding up. None of this was Harry’s fault, but somehow, being around him had made her forget her priorities.
It was time she had a rethink.
She pulled her phone from her pocket, returning a text Shirley had sent earlier offering shifts in A&E. She said yes to them all.
Then she texted the agency too. There was still one day this month where she could squeeze in an extra shift.
Her eyes caught sight of a text from earlier. Harry. Wishing you were here with me tonight. See you in the morning. She smiled and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She’d need to talk to him at some point.
Harry would be fine. He’d understand.
* * *
He was already sleeping when his phone rang.
His eyes narrowed at the name on the screen. ‘Penelope?’
‘Hey, Harry, sorry if I’ve woken you.’ Her voice sounded a little shaky, not the self-assured way it normally was. Harry sat upright in bed.
‘What’s wrong?’
He heard her take a few slow breaths. ‘Penelope?’
‘I’m sorry, this was silly. I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have called.’
All of his senses were on alert. ‘Penelope. Tell me what’s wrong.’
He suddenly realised that whilst her voice was low—as if she were whispering into the phone—there was also a slight echo around it. ‘Where are you?’
She named a well-known venue in London. ‘I came here with Lance Derby.’
Harry rolled his eyes. Lance wasn’t his favourite. A banker who was arrogant and opinionated. ‘And?’
‘He’s had a bit too much to drink—we both have, really—and...’
Her voice tailed off. Harry swung his legs out of bed. ‘And what?’
‘He’s been more th
an a bit forward with me.’
‘What do you mean?’ Harry was already on his feet, looking for his clothes.
Penelope let out a noise that sounded like a sob.
Her voice cracked. ‘I’m sorry, Harry. I feel like some kind of teenager. I shouldn’t be calling you.’
‘Whereabouts are you at the club?’ he asked as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.
‘In the bathroom,’ came the whisper.
He stopped. ‘You’re in the bathroom?’
‘It’s the only place I feel safe,’ she admitted. ‘I know he’s waiting outside the door. I’ve heard him shouting at a few people. He wants to take me home, and I just don’t want to go back out there. Not when he’s drunk like this. I... I’m not sure what he thinks taking me home means.’
Harry’s mind had already been made up a few minutes ago. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
There was an audible breath of relief, then Penelope added, ‘But, Harry, I’m not sure they’ll let you in. It was an invite-only event tonight.’
Something clicked in Harry’s brain. He walked to his dresser and rummaged through the mail lying on top. ‘I think I had one of those. Give me a sec.’ He pulled an envelope out from the stack. ‘Yes, I’ve got it.’
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and realised that joggers and a T-shirt wouldn’t gain him entry to the exclusive members club. ‘Okay, don’t move. I’m changing and I’ll be with you shortly. If you feel safe in the ladies’, then stay there. Don’t move.’
He changed into a suit, shirt and tie in record time and jumped into his car. Thankfully the streets of London were much quieter at this time of night and it didn’t take him long to reach the venue.
He waved his invitation and stepped inside. Sure enough, Lance Derby was pacing outside the ladies’ bathrooms. Harry did his best not to grit his teeth but the sensations were pretty much overwhelming. Lance wasn’t just drunk, he was very drunk, loud and obnoxious.