Nurse In Need

‘I finished it already.’ Amy bit her lip. ‘I think I was a bit nervous.’

‘So? Have another one.’ Jennifer signalled a waiter who arrived at her side bearing a tray of crystal flutes, the pale gold liquid they contained fizzing discreetly. Jen winked at Amy. ‘I could get used to this. I’m even beginning to understand the attraction of Nigel Wesley.’

‘Shh. You promised you wouldn’t say anything.’ Amy took a sip from her glass. ‘I’m supposed to be in the foyer with Nigel, greeting the new arrivals. He’ll be wondering why I’m taking so long in the bathroom.’

‘Let him wonder,’ Jennifer advised. ‘Every woman needs a mystery or two.’

‘Where did you disappear to when I was in the bathroom?’

‘I was checking out the conservatory.’ Jennifer waved vaguely behind her then grinned at Amy. ‘You’ll never believe this, but I met a vampire.’

‘Oh, sure.’ Amy took another sip of champagne. Thank goodness Jen had agreed to come to this party. She could almost pretend she was enjoying herself despite the fact that they were being largely ignored by the people around them.

‘I’m not kidding. There was this tall, tall woman with dead white skin and jet black hair, all scraped back into a net thing. She had blood red lips and matching nails.’

Amy couldn’t stifle her smile. ‘I think you just met Lorraine.’

‘Who’s Lorraine?’

‘Nigel’s mother.’

‘No!’ Jen breathed. ‘How old is she?’

‘I don’t know. Must be in her sixties, I guess.’

Jen looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe scraping your hair back tightly enough has the same effect as a face lift. She doesn’t look that old.’ Jennifer leaned closer to Amy. ‘Then again,’ she whispered, ‘being unable to go out in daylight might work quite well, too.’

Amy giggled with genuine amusement but the pleasure died swiftly as the subject of their conversation appeared beside her.

‘I’m delighted to see you enjoying yourself, Amy.’ Lorraine Wesley didn’t look particularly delighted. Her gaze swept over Jennifer briefly with an ill-concealed flicker of distaste. Amy’s hackles rose. Jennifer might have overdone things just a little, with her black mini-skirt, tight-fitting top and the number of earrings she had chosen to wear, but she looked stunning in Amy’s opinion. She had always envied her friend’s figure.

Maybe Lorraine Wesley was envious as well. The elegant black sheath dress her prospective mother-in-law was wearing revealed a body lacking any feminine curves. Lorraine’s sharp glance landed on Amy again.

‘Shouldn’t you be with Nigel at the moment?’

‘I’m on my way, Mrs Wesley,’ Amy said quickly. ‘Have you met my friend, Jennifer?’

‘Ah!’ Lorraine Wesley made it sound as though a mystery had been finally solved. She nodded with deliberate graciousness at Jennifer.

‘Jen’s my flatmate,’ Amy said defensively. ‘It’s thanks to her I had something to wear tonight. She lent me her ballgown.’ She smoothed a nervous hand over the full skirt of the floor-length, midnight blue gown.

‘Ah!’ Lorraine repeated meaningfully. ‘No wonder the bodice looks a little big for you, my dear.’ Sculptured eyebrows creased a fraction. ‘What have you got on your feet?’

Amy didn’t dare look at Jen’s expression. She took a long swallow of her champagne before poking her foot further out from the folds of the dress. ‘What’s wrong with my shoes?’

‘Nothing at all, dear,’ Lorraine assured her. ‘Except they’re flat. One should never wear flat shoes with evening dress.’ Lorraine Wesley laughed tolerantly. ‘In fact, one should probably avoid wearing flat shoes at any time.’ The older woman was turning away as she spoke. ‘Ah, Rodney! How fabulous to see you again.’

‘I should have told her I have flat feet,’ Amy muttered rebelliously. ‘And I need the shoes to match.’

Jennifer was looking unusually serious. ‘Doesn’t she know why you wear flat shoes?’

‘Of course not.’ Amy looked uncomfortable. ‘I’d better go and find Nigel. Excuse me.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Jennifer was following her. ‘I want to know something, Amy Brooks.’

‘What?’ Amy stopped near the string quartet. The music covered their voices.

‘Has Nigel ever tried to take you dancing on one of these weekly dates you’ve been having?’

‘No. We usually have dinner or go to a concert or movie. Or both. You know that.’

‘Has he ever seen you in a short skirt?’

‘Do I ever wear short skirts?’ Amy countered.

‘Exactly.’ Jennifer lowered her voice. ‘Have you slept with Nigel Wesley, Amy?’

‘Jen!’ Amy looked quickly over her shoulder.

‘Have you?’ Jen persisted.

‘Not exactly,’ Amy admitted reluctantly.

Jennifer sighed with exasperation. ‘Amy, how could you even think of marrying a man who doesn’t even know about something that significant in your life?’

‘He knows about my leg,’ Amy muttered. ‘He just hasn’t seen it. It’s not that significant, anyway. Or it shouldn’t be.’

‘But it is,’ Jennifer contradicted. ‘You know it is, Amy. It was the reason you broke up with what’s-his-name—that chap you were almost engaged to before you moved to Christchurch.’ Jennifer sounded desperate. ‘Amy, you can’t marry Nigel Wesley.’

‘Yes, I can,’ Amy said quietly. ‘It’s my choice. He asked me and I said yes.’

‘But why?’ Jennifer wailed softly.

‘Because I want a family,’ Amy said sincerely. ‘I want children. So does Nigel. He’ll be a good father. He takes his responsibilities very seriously.’

‘That’s not enough,’ Jen told her.

‘He loves me,’ Amy said firmly. ‘And I love him.’

‘Do you?’ Jennifer’s mouth twisted doubtfully. ‘Do you really love him?’

‘I think so,’ Amy replied. ‘Who really knows for sure?’

‘I would,’ Jennifer said with conviction. ‘And so should you. This isn’t good enough.’

‘It’s all that’s on offer.’ Amy drained her glass and set it down on a side table. ‘And I’m not going to lose the only chance I might ever get.’ She could see Nigel approaching. So could Jen.

‘He looks just like his mother,’ Jennifer observed casually. ‘Except she hasn’t got the beard…yet.’