‘Well, you know a lot more about me than I do about you.’
Mac was staring into the side mirror, watching for an opportunity to change lanes. ‘Not that much.’
‘Enough,’ Julia said firmly. She switched off the tiny voice at the back of her mind that was suggesting she might be making a mistake here. ‘It’s my turn,’ she continued. ‘I want to know about you.’
Mac was still concentrating on his driving. He changed lanes twice and then indicated an upcoming turn but Julia was watching his face just as carefully and she saw something in the softening of his features that suggested her interest might not be unwelcome. That encouragement was more than enough to switch off that annoying little voice.
‘You know heaps,’ Mac said. ‘How old I am, where I come from, where I did my training. How I like my coffee.’ He gave her just the hint of a crooked smile. ‘All the important stuff.’
Julia laughed, shaking her head. ‘That last one’s going to come back and bite you, mate. And I’m not talking about work stuff. I’m talking about the kinds of things friends might talk about. We are friends, aren’t we?’
Friends. It was such a nice, safe word. She could definitely detect a lessening of any tension in the atmosphere now.
‘You want to talk about football? Wrestling, maybe?’
Julia’s breath hitched. No, not wrestling. ‘That’s boy stuff,’ she said dismissively. ‘I’m talking family. Like what you know about me. Brothers, sisters, exwives…that sort of thing.’
Oh…God! What on earth had made that come out? This wasn’t the time to diffuse tension by cracking stupid jokes.
Mac looked as startled as she was herself. ‘You want to know about my ex-wife?’
Julia swallowed. ‘You have one?’
A tiny pause and then a huff of sound that had an unmistakably ironic twinge. ‘No.’
She had to laugh again, to hide the flash of…what was it, relief? Elation? Something entirely inappropriate, anyway. This was supposed to be a joke. Something light that would make Mac smile.
‘That’s two,’ she told him sternly. ‘Any more and I can’t promise you’ll survive the retribution.’
Mac chuckled. ‘OK, shoot. My past history is an open book.’
Was it? Could she ask about the blonde woman?
No. She didn’t want to know. It was none of her business because this was about friendship, not romance.
‘Brothers?’
‘Nope.’
‘Sisters?’
‘Nope.’
‘You’re an only child?’
Mac sighed. ‘Did you really get your degree with honours?’
Julia ignored the insult. ‘I wouldn’t have picked it, that’s all.’
‘Why? Do I seem spoilt? Self-centred and socially insensitive or something?’
‘Not at all.’ The idea of applying any of those criticisms to Mac was ludicrous. ‘I was kind of an only child myself, you know, what with Anne turning into my mother.’
Mac turned off onto another road and Julia saw the sign indicating the route to the Eastern Infirmary—the hospital they were heading for. This conversation would have to end very soon and she hadn’t stepped off first base, really. Mac was going all silent again so it was up to her to say something.
‘It’s just that you’re such a people person,’ she said carefully. ‘You get on so well with everybody and you love kids. I had this picture in my head of you being the oldest in a big family. The big brother, you know?’
Mac turned into the car park. ‘I wish,’ he said quietly, choosing an empty slot to swing the vehicle into. ‘A big family was something I always dreamed of.’ He pulled on the hand brake and cut the engine.
Something inside Julia died right along with the engine.
The tiny hope that this could have been something. That they didn’t have to bury that kiss and make it go away.
It was something in Mac’s tone. A wistfulness that told her a big family was a dream that mattered a lot. Something he hadn’t had as a child but he could—and should—be able to realise it as a father.
The road that led further than that kiss could never go in that direction and she owed it to Mac not to let either of them take it further.
Not that he was showing the slightest sign of wanting to but she could have kept hoping and now she wasn’t going to. And that was good. Any potential for an emotional ride that could only end in a painful crash was being removed.
‘Come on, then.’ Julia reached for the door latch. ‘Let’s go and find Ken.’
Their spinal injury patient from the train carriage was still in the intensive care unit but he was awake and seemed delighted to see his visitors.
‘Hey, Jules! You’ve come to see me.’
‘I said I would.’ Julia’s smile was lighting up her whole face and it wasn’t just Ken who was captured by its warmth. Mac had to make an effort to look away and find something else compelling enough to compete with that smile.
‘I probably won’t need surgery.’ Ken sounded tired but quite happy to discuss his treatment with the person who’d played such a big part in his rescue.
‘That’s fantastic,’ Julia said. ‘So the doctors are happy with you?’
‘So far. They’ve warned me it’s going to be a long road to any recovery and they said we won’t know how bad things will end up being until after the spinal shock wears off, and that can take weeks.’
Julia was nodding, her face sympathetic. Then she glanced up at the wall behind his bed which was plastered with get-well cards.
‘So many cards,’ she said. ‘You’re a popular man, Ken. I reckon I’d be lucky to get two if I was lying in that bed.’
‘I doubt that.’ Ken’s tone was admiring. So was the gaze he had fixed on Julia. Mac felt a kind of growl rumbling in his chest. He cleared his throat.
‘What was the verdict?’ he asked. ‘As far as damage?’
‘A fracture/dislocation in C6/7 and a fracture in…um…I think it was T8. Does that mean anything?’
Mac smiled. ‘Sure does. Any changes in your symptoms in the last couple of days?’
‘The pins and needles have gone from my hands. I’ve got them in my feet instead but they say that’s a good thing.’
‘It is,’ Julia agreed. ‘And the earlier you see an improvement, the more likely things are to end up better than you might expect.’