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weeks’ annual leave.’ Jess rolled her eyes. ‘Flynn’s on this morning. If it’s quiet he wants to lecture the students and the grad nurses in CPR—or BLS, as it’s called now. Why do they have to keep changing things? And when does this place ever stay quiet?’ she asked, but as usual didn’t bother to wait for an answer. ‘I’ve told him Annie is off having her arm stitched back on, but he still wants to go ahead.’
    ‘What happened to Annie?’ Meg asked. Annie, the plastic doll the staff practised their lifesaving skillson, was a popular member of the staff, and the concern in Meg’s voice was genuine.
    ‘My lips are sealed,’ Jess said dramatically, which meant she was pausing for breath before she continued. ‘Let’s just hope that next time our dear Dr Kelsey tries to show the new interns how to reduce a dislocated shoulder, he’ll leave poor Annie alone. The man doesn’t know his own strength.’ Tutting away, Jess turned her attention to Carla. ‘In my day—and, I hasten to add it wasn’t that long ago—we wore hats, and with good reason. Now, go and do something about that blessed fringe of yours or I’ll make you wear a theatre cap for the rest of your rotation.’
    As she bustled off Carla rolled her eyes and turned to Meg. ‘She talks as if she trained during the Second World War; just how old is Jess?’
    ‘Fifty-something,’ Meg mumbled.
    ‘Oh, well, I guess that explains it,’ Carla replied, accepting the bandage Meg offered her and managing to still look gorgeous with a massive white bow on the top of her head.
    ‘Which means she’s got a lot of experience,’ Meg said pointedly, annoyed at Carla’s surly comments. ‘I know first-hand what a good nurse she is—and not just from a professional point of view. Jess is the first person you want to see when you’re coming through those doors on a stretcher. Tying up your hair and looking smart might seem minor details, but they’re important ones; it goes a long way to instilling confidence in the patients.’ Suitably chastised, Carla followed Meg into resus.
    ‘I know it seems boring how we constantly checkall the equipment, but it really is vital,’ Meg explained as she painstakingly checked and restocked all the backboards behind the resus bed. ‘Everything has its own place in s resuscitation room. There isn’t time to be rummaging through shelves when someone is desperately ill and staff are already tense. It’s much easier all round if everything is well stocked and in order.’
    ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
    Meg didn’t need to look up to know who the deep voice that filled the room belonged to. But in the spirit of her new-found openness she forced a smile as she battled with a blush, painfully aware that the last time they had been together in this room she had been dressed only in a skimpy hospital gown with a good dose of Pethidine on board. Not the best of looks!
    ‘Morning, Flynn,’ Carla announced cheerfully, and Meg frowned at the rather too familiar tone.
    ‘Morning, Carla.’ Flynn did a double take. ‘Have you got a toothache or something?’
    ‘Nah.’ Carla shrugged. ‘Apparently my hair was a health hazard.’
    ‘Good morning, Dr Kelsey ,’ Meg responded, casting a pointed look at Carla, but Flynn didn’t seem remotely fazed by the student’s familiarity.
    ‘Flynn will do. Dr Kelsey’s my father.’
    Meg realised she was gnashing her teeth; between the two of them they had managed to make her feel as if she was about to start drawing her pension. ‘Well, in that case,’ she said in a rather falsely cheerful voice, ‘good morning, Flynn.’
    At least she wasn’t the only one blushing, Megrealised—Carla was positively beetroot. But then who could blame her? Students had hormones too, and Flynn was a pretty impressive sight for seven-thirty in the morning. Everything about him oozed masculinity—not just his huge, powerful build, but also the husky voice, the spicy tang of cologne,