‘I’m sure you are.’ Jasmine grinned. ‘I might just pop in, if you’re sure.’
‘Of course.’
‘He’s asleep,’ Jasmine said. ‘You won’t have to do anything.’
‘I’m sure I’ll cope if he wakes,’ Penny said. ‘And if you are going to see Mum then you need to put on some make-up.’
It didn’t help much, not that her mum would have noticed. She was, as Penny had said, asleep. Still, Jasmine felt better for seeing her, but that feeling faded about five minutes after visiting when she saw Jed coming out of X-Ray.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
‘I tried to call,’ Jed said, but Jasmine wasn’t interested in talking.
‘I need to get home.’
‘Run off, then,’ Jed said, and Jasmine halted for a second.
‘Sorry?’
‘You said you had to go.’
She opened her mouth to argue. Had he just accused her of running off? But instead of challenging him, she threw him a very disparaging look, and as she marched off, Jasmine knew she didn’t need cold tea bags on her eyes—she was through crying.
Her mum was right—it was completely hereditary.
The Masters women had terrible taste in men!
Still, even if she would have liked to avoid him it was impossible at work. Everywhere she went she seemed to be landed with him, but she refused to let him get to her, refused to give him the satisfaction that she was running off.
But worse than the department being busy was the times it was quiet and though she had no idea who knew what, she nearly bit on her gums when Lisa gave her a very sweet smile.
‘Could you give Jed a hand, please?’ Lisa said, even though there were five other nurses sitting around. ‘He’s stitching a hand and she won’t stay still on the trolley.’
‘Her name’s Ethel,’ Lisa added. ‘You’ll get to know her soon, she’s one of our regulars.’
‘Sure.’
She painted on a smile and walked into Theatre.
‘Hi, there, Ethel, I’m Jasmine.’
‘Who?’
She was an angry old thing, fuelled on sherry and conspiracy theories, and she made Jasmine laugh.
‘Why would they knock the hospital down?’ Jasmine asked patiently, when Ethel told her the plans were already in and had been approved by the council.
‘Prime real estate,’ Ethel said. ‘Imagine how many townhouses they could put up here.’
‘Have you been talking to my mum?’ Jasmine grinned.
‘All money, isn’t it?’ Ethel grumbled for a while and then spoke about her children, who, from the age of Ethel, must be in their sixties at least. ‘They’re just waiting for me to go,’ Ethel said bitterly. ‘Worried I’m spending their inheritance.’ She peered at Jasmine. ‘Have you got children?’ she asked.
‘None,’ Jasmine happily lied.
‘Husband?’
‘Nope.’
‘Good for you,’ Ethel said. ‘Dating?’
‘Nope.’
‘Quite right, too.’ Ethel said. ‘They’re no good, the lot of them.’ And she ranted for a few minutes about her late husband. ‘They’re all liars and cheats and if they’re not now then they’re just waiting to be. Nasty, the lot of them—except for the lovely doctor here.’
She caught Jed’s eye and they actually managed a slightly wry smile.
‘No, we’re all horrible, Ethel,’ Jed said. ‘You’re quite right not to listen to their sorry excuses.’
And if he’d looked up then he’d have seen Jasmine poke her tongue out.
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