Alison Roberts - Hot Docs On Call - Healing His Heart

QUINN SCROLLED THROUGH her phone, paying little attention to the social media updates on the screen. She wasn’t in contact with any of these people; they weren’t part of her actual life. Recent events had proved that to her. Virtual acquaintances could be chock-full of sympathy and crying emoticons on the Internet but a distinct lack of physical support from anyone other than Mrs Johns next door had made her see an online presence was a waste of her valuable time. This sudden interest in what people were having for dinner, or who had the cutest kitten meme, was simply to occupy her hands and give the impression she was at ease on her own.

Matt had directed her towards the pub across the road and assured her he’d be with her as soon as he could get away. The Frog and Peach, as nice as it was, was a busy hub in Paddington and she was self-conscious sitting outside, occupying one of the much sought after tables.

She envied the carefree patrons meeting their friends to toast the end of their working day. It reminded her of the camaraderie she’d once had with her fellow teachers inside and outside of the school. A friend was the one thing she was desperately missing right now—someone she could share a laugh with, or pour her heart out to without judgement. Mrs Johns was the closest thing to that, volunteering to babysit if she ever needed a hand, but it wasn’t the kind of relationship where she could really confide everything that was getting her down at the minute. She only really had her mum to talk to on the end of the phone for that, but even then she was almost ashamed to be totally honest about her situation and admit she wasn’t coping when her mother had been her fostering inspiration. When she did return home to her Yorkshire roots, she wanted it to be a journey of triumph with Simon as happy as she’d been as a child who’d finally settled.

Quinn drained the water from her glass. After the day she’d had fretting over the surgery and making a fool of herself crying on Matt’s shoulder, she could probably do with something stronger but she wouldn’t touch alcohol while Simon was under her care. She took her responsibilities seriously and she couldn’t sit here getting pie-eyed when she still had to get them both home across the city.

‘Are you finished?’ A male member of staff was at her side before she managed to set the empty glass down.

She nodded but felt the need to explain her continued occupation of valuable drinking space. ‘I’m just waiting for someone.’

There was a brief flicker of something replacing the irritability in the young man’s eyes and Quinn’s cheeks burned as she realised it was sympathy. He thought she’d been stood up. It was the natural assumption, she supposed, as opposed to her waiting for her foster son’s surgeon, who she’d emotionally tortured until he’d agreed to meet her here.

‘I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’ She began to defend her party-of-one residency but the busy waiter had already moved on to clean the next table, uncaring about her social life, or lack of one.

Unfortunately, the jitterbugs under her skin weren’t entirely down to her anticipation of an evening in a hot doctor’s company. The excitement of a singleton let loose in the city didn’t last for ever and these days the skippety-hop of her heart tended to come from fear of what was going to happen to Simon next.

Still, as Matt finally came into view across the street there was a surge of girlish glee she’d imagined had vanished out the door with her ex. There was something about seeing him in his casual clothes that felt forbidden, naughty even. She was so used to him in his formal shirt and trousers combo, or his scrubs, that a pair of jeans and tight T-shirt seemed more…intimate.

There was something voyeuristic watching him negotiate the traffic, oblivious to her ogling. It was amazing how one scrap of plain material became so interesting when stretched across the right body, marking out the planes of a solid chest and rounding over impressive biceps. As he jogged across the road, with his jacket slung over his arm, Matt had no clue how good he looked.

Long-dormant butterflies woke from their slumber, mistaking the handsome man coming towards Quinn as a potential date, and fluttered in her stomach as she followed his progress. They quickly settled when she turned to check her reflection in the window and was reminded this was more of a pity party than a hook-up.

She knew the second he spotted her in the crowd on the pavement as a smile spread across his lips and he lifted a hand to wave. He’d been incredibly understanding considering her sometimes erratic behaviour and this was above and beyond the call of duty. It also did nothing to diminish her crush.

‘Hey,’ he said as he pushed his way through to reach her table, the last of the evening sun shining behind him and lighting his short blond hair into a halo. It made him almost angelic, if it wasn’t for that glint in his ever shifting blue-green eyes which said there was potential for mischief there. It made her curious to find out if there was a wicked side to Saint Matt when he was off duty.

‘Hi, Matt.’ She pulled out a chair for him and couldn’t resist a smug grin as the surly waiter passed by and did a double take.

‘Do you want to go inside to order? The smokers tend to congregate out here…unless you’d prefer that?’

‘It’s okay, I’m not a smoker.’ It earned him more Brownie points too—as if he needed them—he obviously didn’t approve of the habit.

She popped her phone back in her bag and got up to follow him. It was easy to see him when he was head and shoulders above most of the crowd, but soon the mass of bodies was too thick for her to fight through to reach him.

‘Excuse me…sorry…can I just get past?’

On the verge of giving up and heading back out for some fresh air, she felt a large hand clamp around her wrist and pull her through the people forest. Somehow she ended up taking the lead with Matt creating a force field around her with his body alone. She revelled in that brief moment of nurturing where someone put her welfare first. It had been a long time since anyone had been protective of her feelings and she missed that kind of support.

Since moving away from home it had been in rare supply at all. Even Darryl, who she’d thought she’d spend the rest of her days with raising children, had put his selfish needs before her or any potential foster kids.

‘There’s a table over here.’ Matt cleared away the dirty dishes left behind by the previous occupants so they could take the comfy leather sofas by the fire. He obviously wasn’t the sort of man who only thought of himself. It showed in his every action. Even if her jealousy had prevented her from appreciating the extra care he’d given to Simon, Matt’s generous nature would make some lucky woman very happy indeed. A woman who wouldn’t second-guess his every gesture, waiting to find out what ulterior motive lay behind it.

‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a nuisance.’ She leaned forward in the chair, taking a sudden interest in the patina of the wooden table, unable to meet Matt’s eyes. It would be fair to say she’d been an absolute horror to him these past weeks. Now the hysteria had subsided and the voice of reason had restored calm, her bad behaviour became very apparent. Based on her past experience with men, her paranoia had led her to question his judgement, his professionalism and his methods when the man had simply been trying to do his job. It was a wonder he hadn’t called security to remove her from the premises at any point. His patience clearly stretched further than hers.

‘Don’t worry. You’re an anxious mum. I get it.’ He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, pumping the blood in her veins that bit faster.