Page 10 of Doc Hollywood

She didn’t mean to, but she laughed out loud. “I don’t have time to decompress. I don’t need to decompress. What I just did. That’s part of the job. What I have to do now is get the next patient asleep and get the theatre list moving again.”

“Surely no one will mind if you take five minutes.”

“Every five minutes I take now adds another five minutes onto the end of the day. And then I’ll never get home.” She pointed towards the doors that would take her back to theatres. “You, however, don’t work here, so please take all the time you need. Head back up if you want to, or if you’ve seen enough for your acting, don’t feel obliged to return.” She checked her watch. “Right, I need to go. See you later.”

“I’ll come back,” he said hurriedly. “Can I grab you a takeaway coffee?”

“Nah, It’s all good.” She shook her head even as her weariness screamed at her to say yes.

“Okay,” he replied.

Clara trudged along the corridor, aware of his eyes on her back, but she resisted the urge to turn around until she heard his feet move; then she finally glanced over her shoulder to see his broad back as he strolled away.

CHAPTER 4

It was two in the morning, and Clara was exhausted. But finally, she felt everything was under control enough in the operating theatres for her to head home.

Taylor stood next to her; he hadn’t complained once about the time and insisted that he would stay whenever she tried to send him home.

“You didn’t have to stay until the bitter end.” Clara met Taylor’s bright blue eyes.

She had spent the whole day explaining things to him and found him so easy to talk to she kept forgetting that behind the mask and glasses, there was the world-famous actor Taylor Anderson and not a very oversized medical student.

Taylor shrugged. “It felt like I should if I wanted to really see what the job was like.” He tried to suppress his yawn, but it overwhelmed him. “I’m going to sleep well when I get back to the hotel.”

“Where do you have to go?” She rubbed the back of her neck to relieve some of her tension and walked out the theatre door.

“It’s only an hour’s drive away. Not too far.” Taylor yawned again.

“Do you have someone driving you?” She paused, hoping he was about to tell her he had a driver waiting for him.

“No. I love driving. I’ve got a rental car.”

“You shouldn’t drive that far. It’s been a long day.” Clara worried at her lip under the mask.

It was twelve months since they had lost one of their registrars in a car accident when they had driven home after a night shift and fallen asleep at the wheel.

Since then, she read the riot act to every new bunch of registrars when they arrived at the hospital. She only lived ten minutes away and had a spare room that she now always kept ready for guests. They were all given the code to the hideaway key and had strict instructions that all she needed was a text to let her know, and they could let themselves in.

“You shouldn’t drive that far,” she repeated slowly.

“It’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

“I know… well… well, it’s two in the morning, I have a spare room. Get a couple of hours sleep, and then head to your hotel.” Clara rushed the words out, unable to believe she had just offered her spare room to one of the most famous actors in the world. “Or do you have an assistant or someone who can arrange something for you? You must have someone who sorts these things out for you.” She clamped her lips shut to stop herself from rambling any more than she already had.

“My assistant has a few days off, so it’s just me. Don’t worry, I’m not that tired.” Unfortunately, the giant yawn that escaped him did not support his assertion.

“Right, that’s settled. You’ll sleep in my spare room. Where are you parked? You can follow me home.” She walked away from him, not waiting for an answer.

Another yawn broke free from Taylor, and he called after her. “Thanks!” Grinning when she answered him with a nod of her head and a wave over her shoulder.

Clara threw her backpack onto the floor by the front door and chucked her keys onto the table, ready to grab if she got called in again.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she asked as she made her way through to the kitchen, Taylor trailing in her wake.

She glanced over her shoulder and started. It had been very easy when he wore a mask, glasses and a hat to forget who he was, but now she was very aware that she had Taylor Anderson standing in her tiny hallway, all six-foot-five of him.

“Sure.” He smiled broadly at her.

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