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He always says and does the right thing and never forgets the smallest detail, thought Yona. Which only made his reference to Fran's father more significant.

Ted went straight into action in the women's ward. 'Have the neurosurgeons seen Mrs Baker yet, Dr MacFarlane?'

'Yes, Professor—on Tuesday. And they agree with us
about the need for a permanent collar,' stressed Yona
for
the patient's benefit. Mrs Baker was against the idea
be
cause she'd not be able to wear her pearls.

Ted dealt with her objections kindly but firmly, and
they
moved on to their newest patient. 'What have we here?'
he
asked in a low voice.

'Would you believe another SLE?' Yona asked softly.

'Yes, I would,' he answered. 'It's commoner than people think. Remind me to stress that next time we talk to GPs. Right, then!' He held out his hand for the notes.

While he was reading, Yona chanced to glance out of the window. She went rigid with apprehension. Mike was standing by the main door of the surgical block and he was talking to Fran. Why was she here so early when visiting began at three? Had her father had a relapse? As she watched, Fran moved closer to Mike and laid a hand on his arm. He didn't shake it off. Now he was patting her shoulders. No, he wasn't—he'd put an arm round them! Spelt it out to her, had he? Not from where Yona was standing!

Ted had finished reading and he asked Yona a question. When she didn't answer or even seem to hear, he looked out as well to see what she was finding so absorbing. Glancing at her set face, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

'I've really nothing to add to Dr MacFarlane's findings,' he told the new patient in a voice loud enough to bring Yona out of her daze. Then he outlined the treatment, told her how fortunate it was that they'd caught her problem so early and that she'd soon be feeling more like her old self.

As expected, Mrs Kavanagh and Mrs Jacobson were considered ready to go home. They had become fast friends during their stay and were, they said, leaving with mixed feelings.

Sister assumed that was because she'd made them so happy and comfortable, but they weren't letting her get away with that. 'We live at opposite ends of the city, neither of us can drive and buses are impossible,' said Mrs Kavanagh.

'We'd like to meet occasionally, but how can we?' wondered Mrs Jacobson.

In a flash, Ted was away on one of his favourite hobbyhorses. 'We can build space rockets, but we can't build buses which don't require the speed and agility of an Olympic athlete! And it's not just the elderly and disabled who have problems. Have you ever seen a short girl in a tight skirt trying to get on a bus with a baby or an armful of parcels?' The patients loved it and when he ran out of steam they gave him a round of applause.

After the round Yona's boss congratulated her on keeping things going so well during his absence.

'I did my best,' she returned, flushing with pleasure at his praise.

'And you certainly succeeded.' He hesitated, before proceeding carefully. 'There's talk of appointing a junior consultant in Rheumatology to be based at the General—probably in the next year or so.'

'Ah,' said Yona, unsure whether or not she was being invited to apply.

From that, Ted assumed that she wasn't interested. 'More or less what I expected,' he said. 'Nobody could blame you if you headed back to bonny Scotland after a decent interval down here. And when I say bonny, that's what I mean. Such a beautiful country!'

Yona couldn't decide what she was being told now, but one point certainly needed to be clarified. 'Is there anything wrong with my work?' she asked bluntly.

Ted looked stunned. 'Good Lord, no! You really must
be wool-gathering to ask that so soon after being praised. We're all delighted with you. I thought you knew that.'

'Thank you. I just wanted to be sure...'

'Well, you can be. I only meant that you'll probably want to return home some time for personal reasons. Family, friends...' His voice tailed off.

'In the long run, who knows?' allowed Yona. 'But for the moment, I'm very glad to be here, enlarging my experience.'

They both refused coffee in Sister's office, pleading pressure of work. Yona was glad to get a few moments to herself. She knew now what Ted had been trying to say. He must have guessed that she was attracted to Mike and wanted to provide her with a good excuse to exit gracefully from the Royal, as and when necessary. She thought again of what she'd seen through the ward window and caught a quivering lip between her teeth. She didn't doubt the strength of the physical attraction Mike felt for her, but was it enough?

What was it the old song said? 'Too hot not to cool down.' Was this just one of those things then? It was beginning to look that way...

This was Yona's day for a clinic at the Salchester General Hospital and what a marathon it turned out to be. No wonder a new consultant post was being considered, especially as more and more general medical beds here were being taken up by rheumatic patients.

By the time she had done a mini-ward round as well, it was way past six and she was faced with a five-mile drive home through crowded streets. Fortunately she had laid out her good green suit and its accessories before she'd left that morning, but she must—simply must have a shower.

Mike was prompt to the minute and Yona was just finishing her make-up when he rang the bell. She took her time about answering. How much mileage was there in this thing when such an authority as Ted Burnley believed that Mike and Fran were an item?

Mike picked up those uncertain vibes as he kissed her, but blamed them on the hectic day she'd almost certainly had.

'No worse than usual,' she told him. 'Rather better, in fact, with Ted back.'

'But something has upset you,' he persisted. 'Have you had bad news from home?'

'Why on earth should you think that?'

'Because if everything is all right at work what else is there?'

She found she couldn't voice her doubts—not while he was looking at her with such obvious warmth and concern. 'Just a wee bit of a headache,' she offered instead.

Mike frowned anxiously. 'Do you often get headaches? Because, if so, you should take advice. Is it bad? Would you rather not go out?'

Yona made an effort. 'To start at the beginning, the answers are hardly ever, it's only a niggle and we are definitely going out.' What had prompted her to make such a wimpish excuse? 'I wouldn't miss this for the world.'

Mike was amused at her vehemence. 'But it's only a routine concert—nothing special.'

'It is so, then—it's my first chance to hear the world-famous Salchester Symphony Orchestra.'

'Of course we're going, then, if you really want to, but do you feel like driving, dear girl? I'd better call a cab.'

'Absolutely not—I'm perfectly able to drive. Please don't fuss, Mike.'

He was visibly hurt. 'My apologies,' he said quietly. 'I'd forgotten for the moment how very independent you are.'

It wouldn't be much of an evening if they went on like this—not to mention playing Fran's game for her. Yona pulled herself together, apologised beautifully, told him she didn't know what had come over her and he must be wishing he was taking out almost anybody but her.

It was wonderful to see how quickly he responded. 'You could get round the most hardened misogynist,' he said indulgently, kissing her cheek. He had aimed for her mouth, but she'd moved at the wrong moment. 'Do you always get your own way?' he whispered.

'You surely don't expect me to confess to that,' she returned archly, to find herself engulfed in his arms again, and this time his kiss found its mark. 'I'm putty in your hands,' he claimed.

And not only in
my
hands, thought Yona unwillingly, visited again by the morning's fightings. 'How is Dr Melling?' she asked as a result.

'Doc Melling?' asked Mike with surprise as he released her. 'He's fine. Why?'

Bang went the idea that he'd only been comforting Fran over-thoroughly that morning. 'Oh, I just wondered,' she claimed with false lightness, 'when his daughter is rarely away from his side.' Or yours!

'But that's the way she is, Yona—devoted to a fault. I told you. And now we really must be going...'

In the foyer of the splendid Salchester Symphonic Hall, Yona was cheered and partially reassured by the evident pride in Mike's voice as he introduced her to some friends of his, a young married couple. He was making no attempt to hide his interest in her. And not a word was said about the dreaded Fran, she thought gratefully as they asked Mike to bring Yona to see them and he accepted with flattering speed.

'Did you like my friends the Westons?' asked Mike as they settled in their seats.

'Yes, very much, I thought they were charming.'

'Good! We'll visit them this coming weekend, then. They're a perfect example of—' He broke off as the conductor came onto the platform to a burst of applause. 'Wedded bliss,' Mike hissed in her ear in the quiet moment before the concert began. A remark like that could take her mind off both the music and Fran, if anything could. Because if Mike wanted to show her his idea of wedded bliss, then was she not the foolish one to worry? Unconsciously, she leaned nearer to him, savouring the feel of his arm against hers.

Mike felt it, too, and reached out to cover her clasped hands with his warm brown one for a moment. How silly I am to doubt him, she decided, relaxing and letting the wonderful music wash over her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt as happy as this.

'So, what's your verdict on the famous SSO, then?' asked Mike as they shuffled with the crowd out into the cold of the night when the concert was over.

'Magnificent! They certainly deserve their reputation.'

'So perhaps Salchester is not such a dreary, ugly, old dump after all.'

'It's ugly all right,' said Yona, 'but it's got lots of good points as well.'

'Tell me!' he invited.

'Well, all that for a start.' She waved a hand backwards to take in the hall and the orchestra. 'Some very nice people—and, of course, the botanic gardens. Especially on a wet Sunday afternoon...'

Mike seized her round the waist and kissed her, despite the crowd. 'You'll not forget Sunday in a hurry then, huh?'
^!
'Absolutely not—my best jacket got shrunk!'

'And is that
all
that happened that day?' he asked softly.

Yona couldn't help remembering a tearful Fran on her doorstep. 'It started better than it ended,' she reminded him.

'But we've made up for that since,' Mike insisted. 'And this is how it's going to be for us from now on.' He swept her across the road into a packed wine bar.

'We'll never get a table,' said Yona, looking round.

'Pessimist,' Mike accused her fondly. 'I've already booked a table away from the crowd. Come on!'

'You certainly know your way around,' she said approvingly as he towed her up the stairs.

'Which is why you find me irresistible,' he retorted.

'Do I?' she asked, although pretty sure he was right.

'It'd be a great pity if you didn't—considering the way I feel about you!'

'And what way is that, then?' asked Yona when they were seated in a nice quiet little corner.

'Actions speak louder than words, but if I were to show you here the waiter would fetch a policeman or a bucket of water. What would you like to eat?'

'Eat?' she echoed, swamped by the wave of desire his words had provoked. Heavens—he didn't even need to touch her! 'Eat, you said... Oh, spaghetti, please.'

'Are you sure?'

'This is an Italian place, is it not?'

'Well spotted, but the menu is a mile long and very imaginative. Don't you want to see it?'

The only thing Yona wanted to see at that moment was Mike Preston naked in her arms, in her bed. 'I'd rather you chose,' she managed faintly.

'Then things
are
looking up,' he decided, before telling the waiter, 'The lady wants spaghetti, Guiseppe—with some of Marcello's special sauce.'

By the time they'd eaten, Yona was feeling calmer. She was thinking again, too. Mike fancied her—that much was obvious—and she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted any man, but nothing had really been changed by this wonderful evening. Fran was still there—a shadowy third—and there she'd stay until Yona was absolutely certain that the old ties were broken and Mike was free.

'You've gone all solemn again,' he said as they went to get his car.

'Have I? I expect that's because I'm a bit tired.' Quite true, tired of wondering and worrying...

'And I know the best cure for that,' he whispered, drawing her closer.

'So do I—eight hours' sleep.' If only she didn't feel it necessary to keep him at arm's length like this...

'That's one way, I suppose,' he allowed, 'but definitely not what I had in mind.'

His arm round her waist, with his hand just below her breast, was playing havoc with her resolve. 'Have you ever slept with Fran?' she asked jerkily, surprising herself as well as Mike.

'Have I
what?'
He sounded scandalised. 'What the hell will you come out with next? Are you crazy?'

'No—but I am curious.' She most definitely was, so they may as well get things out in the open now she'd started. 'You've known her for ever and she worships you. It was a—reasonable assumption.'

'No, it damn well wasn't—and you should have known it!'

'Because Fran's not that sort of girl?'

'Because she doesn't attract me—and never has.'

'I suppose it is possible to like somebody—even be fond of them—without wanting to...to...'

'Sleep with them? Of course it is! Just as it's possible to fancy somebody you don't like.'

'But you wouldn't know about that,' said Yona.

'Would you?'

'We're not talking about me, we're—'

'And why not? I'm as keen to find out about your views and standards as you are to suss out mine,' he said tightly.