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Ideal Girl (Irish Girl, Hospital Romance 1) Page 4
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It was more likely he was trying to prove his friends wrong, and really what choice did he have? It was try the brunette or go on searching for the perfect blond. His mind flipped back to his last girlfriend of its own accord, even though high maintenance Helena was the last woman on earth he wanted to think about. In fact if she was the last woman on earth he’d happily die a bachelor. No, he’d had enough of blonds for one life time - It would have to be brunettes or red heads from now on, or nothing. He smiled briefly at a passing nurse, a very cute very blond nurse before continuing down the corridor.
Perhaps he should take a break from dating? Perhaps at thirty six it was time to press the pause button and take stock of what he actually wanted from his existence. Whilst his career was on track the rest of his life was a complete disaster. But it didn’t have to be. He sighed as the image of the girl he was about to meet formed behind his lids, before suddenly quickening his step. His life was about to change – for better, for worse, for ever. Whatever - he couldn’t wait!
Chapter Six
‘Hurry up Lids,’ shouted a voice from the corridor.
‘Shut up, Sorch.’ She said, opening the door to the changing room. ‘You’ve been shopping again!’ She burst out laughing. ‘I’m not so sure about zebra print leggings though.’
‘You can talk! I wouldn’t be seen dead in that get up.’ She visibly shuddered at Liddy’s baggy denims and ripped green hoodie. ‘The only thing going for it is the colour.’
She laughed again. ‘And the fact that it’s a man repellent!’
‘Lids, my love, with an attitude like that you’re going to lose that bet.’
‘You can keep your bet if it means the likes of Drippy Donal are going to view me as fair game – he’s been following me around like a puppy all week.’
‘Aren’t you the lucky one – now why doesn’t anything like that ever happen to me?’ She moaned, but with the start of a smile on her face.
‘It’s not funny! You have no idea how traumatic it’s been. I had to keep nipping into the staff loo’s to avoid him – Sister Slater kept asking me if I had the runs.’
‘Ewee, too much information!’
‘I can’t cope with having to say no all the time – one of these days I might even say yes by mistake and that would be tragic.’ She curled her hand around her upper arm. ‘Don’t you remember him kissing us all under the mistletoe last year – it was like having a damp lettuce glued to your face, only a lot less nutritious.’
Sorcha burst out laughing. ‘But he’s so not my type and I’m sure I’d have found out by now if he was. I’ll have you know I’ve had a fair few moments myself of being stalked, not to mention lunged at in the linen cupboard.’
‘And who’s the poor mug who’s had to stay up wiping your eyes when they don’t return your texts. That’s why you’re having a break from men.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘At least help me keep out of his way – I’m far too old for all this nonsense.’
Liddy grinned despite herself as she remembered their little wager. ‘You know I’m going to win the bet don’t you. There’s no way you can go a whole month without getting your leg over.’
‘Er, remember it’s your bet as well.’ Sorcha replied with a smirk. ‘You know I love you Lids, but don’t you think you’re turning into a bit of a professional virgin? If you don’t get laid you’ll have to forgo chocolate for a whole month.’
‘It’ll be you who’s giving up mars bars!
Sorcha?’ She added, suddenly wondering why her friend had stopped in the middle of the corridor.
‘Did you see that hunk in the suit just now?’ She turned towards her. ‘I think I’m in lust.’
‘Where?’ She followed her eyes.
‘You just missed him. God he was gorgeous - all that floppy blond hair and I do so love a man in a suit, nearly as much as I love removing it!’
Liddy glanced towards the door again, but all she could see was her reflection staring back at her.
‘He was dishwater blond, right? And I’ll just bet he was wearing the cutest blue tie?’
‘There was no dishwater amongst that lot!’ Sorcha suddenly grabbed both her shoulders. ‘And how would you know anyway? You’ve met him haven’t you? What’s he like, what’s his name, is he taken?’
‘Whoa.’ Liddy held up both hands in an effort to ward off any more questions. ‘Don’t worry about old Leprechaun boy – you’re on a man diet anyway.’ She patted her arm. ‘Let’s raid the chocolate machine, we’ll restart the month from tomorrow. Then what about a jar with your mystery man? It’s not only Donal that’s been chasing me you know.’
They strolled down the hospital steps arm in arm, turning left out of the gates towards the pub, situated at the end of the unlit lane. It wasn’t a place they ever frequented, even in desperation. The dingy wooden tables and chairs stuck to everything they touched as did the floor, while the décor was Regency mock flock with gaps where the flock had been picked off. But this was a test. She wanted to know what this Mitch Merrien was made of, and an hour at their local dive would do nicely.
‘Be Jaysus Lids, couldn’t you have chosen somewhere decent for once?’
‘What - dressed like this?’ She shook her head at the sight of her jeans. ‘Anyway I want to see what the hard men of Dublin think of your new leggings.’
‘Probably as much as they think of your outfit! God Liddy, don’t you have anything in your wardrobe that actually fits!’
‘I’ll have you know that these are the height of fashion.’ She retorted.
‘When, or should that be for whom? The last time I saw anything like it was on my six year old niece.’
‘Very funny. At least I’ve never been arrested by the Gardaí for a breach of the peace.’
She watched her pause and then turn. ‘Now hold on a minute, it wasn’t my fault that I was dressed as a “prossie,” it was fancy dress.’
‘Er yeah, but don’t you think you should have made sure he was in fancy dress too before launching yourself on him – the poor man may never recover!
‘Yes, well – I’d been drinking all afternoon so what do you expect. Anyway who expects a real priest at a Vicar and Tart Party!’ Sorcha held the door open for her before scanning the room. ‘Just look at him would yah. Brains and brawn – life’s just not fair; I so bet he’s all raw muscles underneath that grey suit.’
‘And you’re just the gal to find out!’ Liddy whispered under her breath before walking across to the bar.
‘Er hi there, this is Sorcha. Sorcha, I’d like to introduce Professor Merrien,’
‘Mitch, please – you make me sound ninety!’ He gestured with his arm. ‘There’s a table of sorts in the corner. What are you both having?’
‘It’s okay, I’ll get these. I’m on earlies tomorrow so…..’ She rushed in, only to be interrupted.
‘Speak for yourself! I’ll have a Bloody Mary and Lid’s here will have a pint of Guinness.’
They hadn’t moved more than a couple of paces before her arm was grabbed in a vice like grip. ‘Lighten up would you, you can well afford to let your hair down for once. God - did you see the way that he was staring at you? It was almost obscene – if he has his way he’ll be treating you to a lot more than a couple of pints tonight!’
‘Don’t talk tosh, and while I’m at it why you couldn’t have asked for a wine is beyond me.’ She bit her lip. ‘What’ll he think?’
‘I don’t even know if they serve wine here, unless it’s sold by the litre with a Government Health Warning! Forget the wine – didn’t you notice that his eyes haven’t left your titties for even a nanosecond.’
‘Shush for God’s sake – he’ll hear you!’
‘So what if he does? At least there’s one thing to be glad of.’
‘Shut up – you and you’re Pollyanna quotes.’ But Sorcha carried on as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘He won’t have noticed the state of your jeans, that’s for sure. Butts are obviously not his thing, more’
s the pity.’ She added, smoothing the skin tight Lycra across her hips. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s missing.’
But Liddy wasn’t listening. She’d stopped listening mid-way through the last sentence. Instead she pulled the green hoodie free from the top of her jeans.
‘You never told me that my boobs looked big in this. Why didn’t you tell me?’ She wailed. ‘I wouldn’t have come out if I’d known.’
‘They’re your best asset by far Lids. It’s about time you got them out and shook them all about.’
‘Er Liddy. Yours was the pint, right?’
Liddy’s head jerked up only to find her eyes locked in his. He must have heard the comments. She knew it, and he knew that she knew – she blushed. Sorcha on the other hand was too busy admiring her new orange high heels to even notice, or care about the trouble and embarrassment she’d just caused. She nodded her head briefly as she took the cold frosted glass in her hands and placed it in front of her. There was nothing she could say, there was nothing she could do to relieve the embarrassment of the situation except leave - and she couldn’t do that. The only thing that would make her feel better would be to get drunk and as quickly as possible. Sorcha would always see that she got home safely.
‘So how long have you both worked at the hospital?’
She glanced across at Sorcha before replying, but she was now too engrossed in buffing up her nails on her sleeve to be interested in anything as mundane as work. To be truthful it wouldn’t have been her first choice of conversation either. But of course she’d no reason to suppose he’d asked her out for any other reason than work. It couldn’t have been because he actually wanted to spend some time with her delightful looks and sparkling personality.
‘Three years, ever since we started our training – we’re in the same set.’
‘And how are you enjoying working with acquired brain injuries?’
‘So, so. I’ve only been there a couple of weeks so I haven’t seen very much.’
‘Well that can be easily remedied. How about a trip out to Rathcoole to see the rehabilitation unit?’
Liddy‘s eyes sparkled at the thought. She’d heard about the award winning centre that Dr Michael’s had set up and had been itching to visit, even more so now she knew it would be where Bridie ended up for further therapy.
’Really? That would be fab.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll give them a ring and try and sort something out for next week.’ He said, his eyes firmly focused on her left ear for some strange reason, but at least they weren’t fixating on her boobs.
She crossed her arms across her chest, only to uncross them again and raise her hand to her ear. What the hell had she to feel embarrassed about anyway? He may have been the one checking her out, but obviously the interest had been fleeting, unless he was a weirdo with an ear fetish!
‘So er what made you move to St Justin’s?’ She had a great line in the weather too, and it looked like she might have to use it.
‘This and that. My parents aren’t getting any younger and I’ve a younger brother that’s a bit of a handful.
She felt Sorcha stir. ‘Really! Is he anything like you Prof?’
So she’d been listening, but just choosing to leave the drowning conversation to her. She kicked her on the ankle. If she wasn’t careful she’d steal the Kit Kat she’d spotted in the bottom of her bag earlier.
‘Er no. He takes after the other side of the family; short and dark.’ He threw a swift glance across the table before continuing. ‘He’s goes through more girlfriends than most men put together!’
She smiled as Sorcha lost interest at the mention of the G word. She was such a dear and deserved all the happiness she could get, but like her she seemed to have crap taste in men. Mitch and his brother were not for her. However that didn’t mean the right man wasn’t lurking around the corner. She looked across the table at his bent head and felt something: something new, something different, something strange that she had no intention of putting a name to.
She knew she had a reputation in the hospital for being untouchable; that’s why the likes of Donal were so keen on getting inside her pants. Only she knew the truth though. It wasn’t that she was untouchable, more a case of vulnerable. Every time she let someone get close they either took advantage, like Donal, or left – like her parents.
She threw a quick glance across at her friend, a little smile twitching on her lips. Sorcha was the only one that she could rely on, the only one that had never let her down - but was she right about him fancying her? How the hell was she meant to know! She glanced up again. He wasn’t looking at her at all now. Instead of looking at her ear, or her boobs he was staring down at the frothy head on his pint. She gazed at the top of his head as her mind continued on its fanciful journey. Wouldn’t it be better to be made love to by someone like the man opposite, someone that made her feel desirable and wanted for the first time in living memory? Did it really matter what he thought of her, either before or after? She’d half decided she was going to leave Dublin anyway, so it didn’t matter at all. What mattered was the bet. She really needed to win that bet, sod her virginity. There was no way she could go even one day without chocolate. She lifted her glass again only to find it empty - all this thinking was obviously thirsty business.
‘It’s alright Lids, it’s my round.’ Sorcha had hold of her glass before she could stop her. ‘Fancy another one, Prof? It’s been a bitch of a day.’
‘You’ve stolen my line! I’ll come with you. Do you think they sell food, I missed lunch?’ He unfurled his body from under the table before standing up.
‘Possibly, but only if you don’t mind the odd sprinkling of salmonella.’
Liddy offered them the briefest of smiles before going back to her thoughts. Even though, like most thoughts they asked all the right questions without offering even a hint at the right answer. So just how was she going to manage to hook him, even for one night? Of course if she’d been Sorcha she’d have stripped down to her smalls, displaying all of her assets. It was all right for her with her drawers full of G strings and little else. Her drawers, on the other hand were full of grey bras, only fit for the bin, and today she’d chosen to wear the most comfortable, but dingiest of all, topped with an old fire engine t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash – so sex tonight, whatever she said wasn’t an option. She’d rather die from loneliness than embarrassment any day.
Her eyes strayed of their own accord to the pair standing chatting by the bar as if they were a couple of friends without a care in the world. Would he be as kind as Sorcha, or would he trample on her heart as he fled back through the bedroom door. She had no way of knowing either way, but Sorcha did like him. For all her rubbish taste in men she would never do anything to hurt her, or make her miserable for that matter. She heaved a little sigh of regret as her mind folded back on itself to remember Bridie – Bridie as she’d last seen her awake, lying on the stretcher on the way to theatre. She’d clutched at her hand then, the smallest of smiles straining against her face. She’d have known what to do.
They were paying now – there was no time for more thought, there was no time for decisions. Her hands reached for the hem of her top. The decision had been made the first time she’d spotted him staring at her chest.
As soon as she’d done it she wished she hadn’t. She didn’t need to feel the eyes of all the men in the bar swivel in her direction to realise just how bad it was, she could feel the draft of cold air from the suddenly open door slamming across her skin for that. It was too much too soon; for her, for Mitch and for the whole bar.
‘Hello Liddy, fancy seeing you here.’
She glanced up at Donal, just as they reached the table. Holy Crap - that’s all she needed.
‘Hello Dr D.’ Sorcha said, a frown marring her brow as she put the drinks on the table. ‘Sorry, but we’re just leaving. Liddy, hurry up and drink that, the Prof is taking you home.’ She turned to Mitch briefly. ‘I only live around the corner, so
I’m good.’
‘But but I thought….’ Liddy mumbled, only to catch the imperceptible tilt of Sorcha’s head in Donal’s direction. She caught the look of surprise etched across Mitch’s face before lifting her pint and draining it in one. It looked like she was going to be in two peoples’ debts after tonight. Sorcha would be easy to repay, but the debt owed to Mitch was a totally different obligation. She placed her now empty glass back on the table as she considered her options. The obvious one was a bit drastic and there was the underwear question to consider, but there was one thing she could do that would offer something on account and put Donal off the scent. After all, if he was going to be her knight in shining armour and rescue her from Drippy Donal the very least she could do was to make it worth his while.
A little smile hovered across her lips. Paying the debt wasn’t the only reason, and two pints was a good enough excuse as any for any accusations of inappropriate snogging!
She stood up and, leaning across the table brushed her lips against his. It was less of a kiss and more the briefest of caresses. A transitory meeting of flesh that lasted less than a second, but achieved more in that one second than she could have ever expected. Most noticeable was the look of annoyance that flickered across Donal’s face. Less noticeable, but of more interest was the way in which Mitch leaned into the kiss as if eager pursue its fleeting caress. However, at the time neither of these was of any importance to Liddy. All she noticed was the way his lips, smooth and warm felt as she followed their length from corner to corner. After reminiscing about Donal’s slobbery kiss earlier it was the ideal opportunity to check out whether she’d need a pocket stuffed full of wet wipes, or indeed an umbrella if she was to take their friendship up to the next level.
Half an hour later saw them pulling up outside a decidedly untidy two story red brick house just off Ranelagh’s thriving high street. Mitch leapt out first before walking around the bonnet to open her door.