up her life and look after her sister.’
He ran an exasperated hand through his long dark curls, screwing his grey eyes closed for a second as he tried to take in the enormity of the news Lila had just divulged. He knew he should stay calm, be the strong one, support her decisions. But he couldn’t just let her destroy her life, and the Lila he knew and loved was more than capable of doing just that!
Her impulsive nature was one of the things he loved about her most. But, seeing her standing there in his living room, about to make all the wrong decisions, he had to step in—had to stop Lila in her tracks and make her see sense.
‘You haven’t even spoken to her about it,’ he reasoned. ‘Once the news has sunk in then we can all sit down and work something out. If you won’t listen to me, then listen to what Dr Mason said: ‘‘You don’t have to make any decisions today.’’ He’s right. When you go home your mum’s going to be there, just as she was this morning; the only difference is that now you know what’s wrong. Don’t go handing in your notice or doing anything rash.’
But his words fell on deaf ears.
‘What if I studied nursing? I’d be living at home then, and by the time Mum needs full-time care I’d at least know what I was doing.’ She was clutching at straws now, throwing up ideas, trying anything to gain control of this awful situation.
‘You? Nurse? Oh, come on, Lila. All the nurses I’ve come across are organised, dedicated—they don’t just decide on a Tuesday morning that nursing is the job for them. They have a vocation, a passion for it. You’re the scattiest person I know—not that I love you any less for it—and the only thing you’re dedicated to is international shopping. For heaven’s sake, darling, you don’t even like the sight of blood!’ Maybe it was helplessness, maybe it was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but when Declan committed the cardinal sin of laughing at the idea Lila turned promptly on her heel.
‘Lila, don’t walk off.’ Declan followed her out to the hall. ‘Don’t leave while you’re upset. Come on, we need to talk about this—we need to work something out.’
‘That,’ retorted Lila, her words filled with venom, her eyes blazing, ‘was what I was trying to do. You get back to your books, Declan, and leave me to get on with my life.’
Slamming the door on the town house Declan shared with his fellow students, Lila marched off, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t run after her, given the fact he was dressed only in boxer shorts.
‘Lila!’
Flemington Road was amongst the busiest in Melbourne. Lila wasn’t the only one to look shocked as he raced along the pavement after her.
‘Come back inside—please,’ he begged, oblivious of the curious stares of onlookers.
A tram was approaching and Lila flagged it down, scrabbling in her bag for her travel card.
‘Lila!’ His voice was urgent now.
‘Goodbye, Declan.’
As the tram moved off she willed herself not to turn around but sat there rigid, her eyes trained on the driver in front. The old lady sitting next to her had no such reserve, though. Craning her neck, she gave Lila an unwelcome update as the tram turned right at the roundabout.
‘He’s still there, God love him, just standing there in his undies. You’ve given him a scare, love, why don’t you get off now and go back to him?’
What was it with Australians? Why did they have to be so damned friendly? Why couldn’t she live in London, where people sat on the underground and pretended not to notice someone fainting?
‘There’s no point,’ Lila said flatly, tears welling in her eyes as the full enormity of the situation hit her. There really was no point at all. Sure, if she got off now they’d make up—he’d take her in his arms and tell her it would all be all right, that he loved her and would always be there for her. But how could he make a promise like that when there was so much uncertainty ahead? The Lila Bailey he loved was independent, with a job to die for and a wardrobe to match. How would he feel when she was stuck at home, nursing her mother, who, with even the best will in the world, was only going to get worse?
As she walked in the front door she braced herself, unsure of what she would find today. The bathroom flooded? A burning pot on the stove, perhaps? Instead, her mother was dozing peacefully in the armchair, her eyes flicking open as Lila made her way across the room.
‘Hello, darling, how was the flight?’
‘I haven’t been at work, Mum. I just went to see Declan.’
Elizabeth screwed up her nose. ‘Frightful young man. He can’t be trusted, you know. He’s exactly like your father. And we all know how that turned out.’
Standing, she smiled warmly at her daughter. ‘You have a seat, dear, and put your feet up. I’ll see about getting you a nice cup of tea and perhaps some cake.’
Slipping into the chair, Lila felt herself start to relax. Maybe Declan was right and she was jumping the gun. Mum was fine. It could be years down the track…
‘How was Singapore?’ Elizabeth asked, returning moments later with a cup of hot sugared water. ‘You must be exhausted after such a long flight.’
It was on that day Lila rang to make enquiries about applying to study for a Bachelor of Nursing.
It was on that day she finished with Declan.
CHAPTER ONE
LILA burst into the observation ward, her blonde hair flying, her bag falling off her shoulder.
‘Calm down, they haven’t started yet.’ Sue Finch patted the chair beside her. ‘I saved you a seat.’
‘Don’t you hate that?’ Lila rolled her eyes. ‘They tell us to be here at eight—an hour before our shift starts—and then they can’t even get it started on time.’
‘Just as well or you’d have been late—again.’ Sue grinned. ‘Luckily the Horse is stuck round in Resus, so your lack of punctuality will go unnoticed—this time,’ she added pointedly.
The Horse was the name Hester Randall, the nurse unit manager, was rather unaffectionately known by, due to the fact that the only time she showed any glimpse of being human was when she spoke about one of her beloved horses. Lila had started the nickname after a particularly bad dressing-down from her senior and it had soon caught on. ‘What kept you, anyway?’
‘I started watching the gymnastics on television, and before I knew it it was after seven.’
‘Since when have you been interested in gymnastics?’ Sue asked.
‘Since a couple of hours ago. I don’t know what all the fuss is about—it doesn’t look that difficult. I’m sure if I practised I could do it.’ She laughed at Sue’s incredulous look. ‘I’m serious. They were just dancing around waving a couple of ribbons.’
‘They practise for years—hours every day,’ Lucy Heath, another of the night nurses, pointed out.
‘Exactly my point.’ Flicking back the curtains pulled around the empty ward and seeing the coast was clear, Lila picked up a couple of finger bandages and unravelled them. ‘Watch and learn,’ she said to her delighted audience, and, executing a perfect pirouette, she twirled the ribbons as she danced around the room, egged on by the laughter coming from her colleagues. Too wrapped up in her impromptu routine, she didn’t notice the laughter had suddenly changed to a fit of embarrassed coughing.
‘When you’ve finished wasting the hospital supplies, Sister Bailey, perhaps we can get on with the evening’s lecture?’
Turning, Lila stopped in her tracks, her face turning pale as Hester Randall marched in, accompanied by a couple of medical personnel. Lila took her seat next to Sue, concentrating on