Page 18 of New Year, New Guy
He turned his most engaging smile on the grey-haired woman cleaning the floor. ‘Uh, nurse.’
‘I’m not a nurse, lovie. Ring your bell if you need something.’
‘I’m wonderin’ if you could do me a favour.’
‘Ooh, you’re the American. Someone said we had one here. My man’s a big John Wayne fan and you look ever so much like him.’
Her husband or John Wayne?he wondered.
‘What it is you need, dear?’
He pointed towards the gangling young man who was the first person he remembered seeing when he regained consciousness. ‘Could you ask that nurse to come and see me? I wanted to thank him for helping me when I had my . . . accident.’
‘Of course, dearie.’ She shuffled off to tackle his quarry. Hunter observed the man’s initial confusion but his face cleared as the woman gestured at him.
‘Hello, Mr McQueen. You’re looking better.’
‘I’m feeling it. Thanks to you. It is Pete, right?’ He waffled on for a couple of minutes before mentioning Laura. No doubt this guy knew they were personally connected but he still inched hisway around to the question he really wanted to ask. ‘Who was that asshole doctor who was rude to her this morning? Someone should do us all a favour and re-arrange his face.’
‘Join the queue.’ Pete grimaced. ‘No one can stand him. Believe it or not he’s Nurse Williams’ ex.’
‘As in ex-husband?’
‘Yes. Mr Mike Russell himself.’
‘Mr? Why’s he waltzing around in a white coat if he’s not a doctor?’
Pete grinned. ‘It’s a weird British thing. He’s a heart surgeon but when doctors become consultants we call them Mister. Bloody stupid if you ask me when they’ve trained for years and worked crippling hours.’
‘So he’s—’
‘—a wanker,’ Pete finished.
‘Nurse Richards, I hope you have a good reason for disturbing my patient?’
Before Hunter could shoulder the blame he received a quelling glare.
‘I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.’ Painter’s thick, black slug-like brows furrowed together. ‘If you’re still on my ward in ten seconds I’ll put you on report.’
Smoke practically flew from Pete’s heels as he race-walked out. Hunter guessed running was another of Leo Painter’s no-no’s.
‘One word of warning, Mr McQueen. Certain senior members of staff resemble an octopus in the sense of having a long reach.’ Painter glowered. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
‘You sure do.’
‘Good.’ He smoothed the covers on Hunter’s bed and re-tucked the corners. No doubt some hapless junior would be treated to a refresher course in bed making later. ‘The tea trolleywill be around in a few minutes. After that I suggest you rest until supper time.’
Mike Russell had better watch his back when Hunter got out.
Chapter Eleven
Laura shoved a brimming glass of chardonnay in Polly’s shaking hands. ‘Drink that first and then go through everything again slowly.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Can’t drink? That’s not like you.’ Her weak attempt at a joke fell flat. ‘How about a bacon sandwich?’
‘A bacon sandwich?’ Big, hot tears trickled down her face. ‘My wedding is off and all you can do is offer me a bacon sandwich?’ Polly wailed. ‘I’ve been a vegetarian for four years!’
