Page 14 of Doc Hollywood

Once the movie was done, Jack loved to dissect what they had just watched, and he never noticed that she didn’t have any opinions on the film or just agreed with him. He loved the sound of his own voice, and he held his own opinions above anyone else’s, so to him, it didn’t matter that she often wasn’t even awake.

She remembered the gym regime that Jack had started after they went to see the Superman movie. Jack had been convinced that, with the proper training, he could have the same physique as Superman. She wanted to tell him that a five-foot-ten,naturally skinny bloke would never look like a six-foot-five actor who looked like he could run through a brick wall and bench-press a bus.

Her mind flickered back to the actor who had filled the red and blue suit out so well, an actor, who thoughts of, she had blocked out of her mind, as when Jack had told her his exercise plans, she hadn’t been able to stop a sceptical expression from crossing her face.

She winced as she recalled the blow that had landed on her cheek at her audacity to negatively compare Jack to someone he described as a pansy actor. The black eye he left her with had been hard to cover up with makeup, but somehow, she had managed, and no one had noticed.

The blow meant that even when Jack was long gone from her life when the next Superman film came out, she couldn’t bear to go and see it. She couldn’t bear to be reminded about another low point in her life.

She didn’t realise her hand had strayed to her cheek, absent-mindedly rubbing it as if the blow she received was still fresh. Her eyes flickered back to Taylor’s, and the fog her brain had dropped around that movie to protect her from more horrible memories began to lift.

“Ah, shit.” Realisation washed over Clara.

“There it is.” Taylor began to chuckle in delight, which soon became a full laugh rumbling deep through his chest.

“Shit.” Clara blushed so hard she thought steam might come out of her ears. “And you didn’t just tell me? You let me ramble on for,” she looked down and checked her watch, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe five minutes. Glasses on.” She mimed, putting glasses on her face, “Glasses off.”

Her eyes turned down as she recalled her past again. A past she thought she was over, which unfortunately still occasionally reared its ugly head.

Taylor must have noticed her change in expression and reached out to take her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it to be harmless fun.”

Clara stared at the big hand holding onto hers and revelled in the feeling of another human’s touch, something her isolated life was sorely missing.

“No. It’s not you. I had some…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Bad things were going on in my life when I went to see your movie, and thinking about it brought those memories back.”

She glanced up when she felt his hand tighten on hers and his thumb rub gently over her palm.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low.

“It’s not your fault. It’s an issue of mine. I never thought it would be a problem, as I never anticipated I would have Superman standing in my kitchen. Which, to be honest, Taylor Anderson, I am still pretty bewildered about.” She shot him a mock, serious look.

Taylor threw his head back laughing and gave her hand another squeeze before he released her fingers.

Clara pulled her hand back, staring down at her unmanicured nails which were short and stubby, and her palms were slightly calloused. She was sure they were a million miles from the salon-perfect hands of the women he usually spent time with.

“If I recall correctly. You were very insistent that I stay at your house.” Taylor was still chuckling.

“It was too far to drive,” she stated flatly, her mind flashing for a second to the horror few weeks after the car accident before she veered her thoughts away from it.

“You were right. I was unconscious the second my head hit the pillow.” His hand reached out towards her, then quickly dropped to his side as a frown played across his face.

Clara glanced down at her watch, swearing, “Shit.” She downed the rest of her coffee and put her cup into the sink. “I’m going to be late. I’m in theatre five today. Come and find me when you arrive. Medical students never get there before eight thirty, so don’t rush. See you later.”

She snatched her keys off the counter and ran for the front door. She had fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, park and get ready for her list to start.

CHAPTER 6

“Ithink that medical student likes you.”

Clara glanced sharply at Helen, her anaesthetic nurse and answered flatly, “I can guarantee he doesn’t.”

“Really?” Helen peered at her over her bifocal glasses.

“Yes. Really.” Clara looked away from her nurse’s knowing gaze.

Helen wasn’t going to let it go though. “He brought you breakfast.”

Clara managed to suppress the flush that tried to rise up her cheeks. She had been surprised when Taylor arrived with an egg and bacon roll and a double shot of coffee for her. She had tried to refuse them, then gruffly thanked him when he insisted.

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