‘I’ll have no teeth left if you keep buying this stuff. And my father the dentist would kill me, seeing as he kept my teeth nigh on perfect till I left home. Can’t you bring in healthier options? Dried fruit, perhaps? A sandwich, maybe. Nuts would be nice.’
She saw his lips twitch as he carried on writing up his notes. ‘Alex, if you want healthy options you can bring them in. I haven’t got time to make sandwiches or shop for dried fruit. The vending machine in the corridor supplies me with everything I need, and I can get fish and chips or a Chinese on my way home.’
‘You’ll end up diabetic if you’re not careful. Or you’ll have a heart attack or kidney problems. You’ll be a food junkie when you’re ninety, with no teeth.’
She realised he’d stopped writing and wasn’t replying to her after a few silent seconds.
‘What?’ she asked as she raised her head and saw him staring at her. ‘What’s with the look? Why are you staring?’
The doctors’ office was empty except for the two of them, but he still lowered his voice. ‘I recognise the signs. You’re taking something, Alex. And it’s not alcohol. Something is giving you a level of calmness that I don’t think you get by doing yoga or some other kind of torture. Occasionally I hear it in your voice. A little too relaxed, you might say.’
She was shocked that he could so easily recognise her careful cover-up. She was still only taking diazepam, but had increased the strength to 5mg. Still not enough to space her out, but it just took the edge off the panic. She was nervous about her visit to the psychoanalyst tomorrow, and was more than half afraid that he would tell her it was all in her mind.
‘Relax, no one else has noticed. It’s only because I’m working with you that I can tell. Caroline hasn’t noticed because she’s too busy trying to smell your breath. But Alex, you need to stop. It will affect how you work, and I would hate to see you make a mistake.’ He turned back to his notes. ‘Maybe yoga or something like that isn’t such a bad idea.’
Hiding her burning face, she pretended she was OK with what he said. But of course she wasn’t. Nathan was becoming a good friend. He was kind and undemanding, and she valued his confident and capable mind. He never let on that he minded chaperoning her, never let on to the patient that this wasn’t completely normal.
She trusted him. She had also realised, since the night of the doctors’ party, that she liked him. She no longer averted her gaze from his face when he was looking at her full on. The birthmark was becoming less noticeable as she saw the man beneath the blemished skin.
Blushing now for a different reason, she wondered what on earth was the matter with her. Nathan Bell was a colleague, for goodness’ sake. Just because she recognised he was attractive didn’t mean to say she had to get all hot and bothered.
She jumped when his hand touched her.
‘You want the last piece?’ he asked, holding up a square of chocolate. Still feeling the heat in her skin, she took the chocolate and ate it.
A short while later, after cooling her flushed face with cold water, she stared in the mirror and groaned. Her hair needed cutting, her eyebrows plucking and her skin was pale and washed out.
She wondered what Nathan thought of her. What he’d say if she asked him out for a drink? No, scratch that. Definitely a bad idea. A walk in the park, maybe, or they could go to see a show or an exhibition. That was a better idea. She could have a spare ticket because a friend had let her down.
Feeling like a silly teenager, she stared at her reflection again. There was no harm in wanting to look attractive again. Her shoulders were straighter and her head held higher as she walked back to the department, and on her lips there was a hint of gloss.
Chapter twenty-two
It had been a good night so far and the hurt she felt had melted away. Fiona had hugged her as if her life depended on it and repeatedly said sorry for being stupid and callous, just to get attention. She had never meant to mimic those actual words, but they were fresh in her mind and just fell out of her mouth. ‘I’m a jealous cow, sometimes,’ she said. They met up at nine and had several cocktails before making their way to the city centre. They were now in a nightclub with a load of wasted people.
A tall young man with his upper body and face painted a Braveheart blue was jumping up and down on the spot as high as he could. He looked like he was off his head. Beside him, his partner was dressed in a red tutu, a red top with black spots, and had black mesh wings attached to her back. On her head she wore black wired fluffy antennae and on her feet a pair of white trainers.
The ladybird and the warrior were not the only ones to stand out. The place was crammed with them. Everywhere Alex looked she saw strange clothing and wondered if it was a fancy dress night. She felt old.
‘Nathan Bell!’ Fiona yelped in a strangled screech. She had a bottle of Peroni in one hand and a Nicorette inhaler in the other. Her brown frizzy hair had been straightened for the evening, narrowing her already thin face. ‘Nathan Bell? Are you kidding?’
‘Shush, will you? Don’t let the whole world know,’ Alex shouted back, equally loudly. It was impossible to talk quietly. The music, or rather the noise, was louder than a train passing through a small room, and in truth nobody, unless they had their ears against Fiona or Alex’s mouth, could hear their conversation.
‘I can’t believe you’re going to ask him out,’ Fiona yelled some more.
‘Oh shut up, will you? I wish I hadn’t said anything,’ Alex answered crossly.
‘It’s just he’s so .?.?.’
‘What!’ Alex challenged, feeling a sting of resentment for what she felt was coming. ‘Ugly? Unattractive? Embarrassing to be seen with?’
‘Boring! I don’t give a flying fuck what he looks like. You’ve seen my exes. None of them were beauties. No, he’s fucking boring, that’s why I can’t believe you’re asking him out. Jesus! Think again before you get yourself into a situation. He’s gonna fancy the hell out of you and then you’re going to have to dump him.’
Alex really wished she hadn’t said anything, but this was the first time in ages they’d gone out. So tonight, after making up and catching up on normal work stuff and skirting around her recent experiences, they naturally chatted about men. Fiona had no current boyfriend, and now, neither did Alex. Only a potential one, and she had told Fiona about him.
Her expression must have shown how she was feeling, because Fiona lunged at her and Alex was suddenly buried against her breast. ‘Come here, you silly cow. You know I love you, babe, and I’m only concerned about you, but if you fancy him, go for it.’ She eased back, letting Alex breathe again. ‘At least he’s not a dickhead like Patrick.’
At the mention of Patrick, Alex felt a small knot of pain in her stomach. It was hard to believe it was over. Maybe it was too soon to be thinking about someone else.
‘You fancy him, go for it,’ Fiona hollered. ‘At least you can be sure he’ll fancy you back!’
Alex stared at her and then got as close as she could to avoid shouting. ‘What do you mean by that?’