The Neighbour

THIRTEEN

"I like that," I tell him. "Two good things happened that day."

He relaxes a little, as though he was worried my reaction would be of the negative kind.

"Do you miss her?" I ask.

His shoulders sag. "Like crazy. It's taking every ounce of restraint not to Facetime Jamie and Sloan right now."

I laugh. "Why don't you text him and ask for a picture?"

"Won't that make me look desperate?"

"I don't care how it makes you look. I miss her and want a picture."

He throws his head back and laughs, simultaneously reaching for his phone. "Done!"

Our waiter comes back with our wine and some glasses, smiles on show. "Are you ready to order some food?"

I quickly pick up my menu, having not given it much attention.

"I can recommend the sharing platter. It's a popular choice. A variety of different dishes and you can have a little dance between each bite."

Freddie and I share a smile.

"We'll have the sharing platter then," I say.

Once again, we're left alone, and Freddie doesn't even try to hide the fact he's checking me out.

"What made you want to become a nurse?" he asks, unscrewing the wine and pouring us both a glass.

I bring the drink to my lips and take a sip before responding. "I guess I just wanted to help people."

It's a vague answer and the little voice in the back of my head yells at me for half arsing what is a genuinely nice question.

"Actually, that's bull shit," I insist.

He laughs. "Okay..."

"I know exactly what made me want to become a nurse."

He leans forward in his seat and rests his chin in his hand. Our knees touch beneath the table and we're so close, I can smell his aftershave.

"I was thirteen, my mum was dying and Jenny—her nurse—made everything... bearable."

Freddie's free hand instinctively reaches for my thigh, comforting me with a gentle caress.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he shares. "I didn't know your mum passed away when you were so young."

"Breast cancer," I explain, placing my hand on his jawline. "She would've liked you."

"Yeah?"

He beams at the thought.

"She was exactly like nan, but crazier."

"Crazier than your nan? I don't believe it!"

I giggle, figuring he has a point.

"Do you keep in touch with Jenny?" he asks.

"Yeah, she still works at the hospital."

He smiles and I can tell he's genuinely happy that we're still in contact.

"She has grandkids now."

"That's nice," he shares, still drawing invisible circles on my thigh.

The area he's touching burns with intensity and in an attempt to distract my mind, I avert the attention onto him.

"What about you? Did your upbringing make you wanna be a cop?"

"Yup. Pretty much."

He takes a sip from his glass and smirks.