The Children's Doctor's Special Proposal

‘I’m not profoundly deaf—it’s moderate to severe hearing loss,’ she explained. ‘Looking back, it started when I was about seven, but nobody picked it up until Maddie was at med school and did a module on audiology. I was in my first year, she was in her third, and you know what it’s like when you’re a med student—you read up on symptoms and you spot them in yourself or other people.’

‘Yes, I remember doing that myself,’ he said with a smile.

‘Anyway, she nagged me to go and get my hearing checked. She even came with me to the audiology department for moral support, bless her. And that’s when we found out.’

‘Why didn’t anyone pick it up earlier?’ he asked.

‘I was a bit of a dreamer as a child—well, I still am, from time to time—so everyone thought I was just on Planet Katrina and wasn’t listening.’ She shrugged. ‘And you know what it was like when we were young. They simply didn’t do the kind of screening they do now.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I say “we”. I’m twenty-eight, and I assume you’re not that much older than I am?’

‘I’m thirty-two,’ he confirmed. ‘So it was a bit of a shock when you got the results?’

She nodded. ‘All I could think of was that I was too young to be going deaf—that it was something that only happened to geriatrics.’ She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘And that’s despite the fact that there were several children in the waiting room for the audiology test. I have to admit I was struggling a bit to hear in lectures, but I thought it was just the acoustics of the theatre—that the place was full so it swallowed up noise. You know, in the same way that empty tube trains are much noisier than ones that are stuffed with people in the rush hour.’

‘So having an aid fitted made a difference?’

‘And how.’ Her face was suddenly animated. ‘It was incredible. I discovered I could hear better from the back of the auditorium than I’d ever been able to do from the front. And the dawn chorus…I’d never been able to hear it before. Well, not that I remember, anyway. I drove everyone bananas for the first couple of months, wanting to know what each new sound was.’ She smiled. ‘I was really lucky and had one of the digital aids straight off—the microprocessor is programmed to fit my personal pattern of hearing loss. It’s never going to be quite as good as having full hearing, I know, but it’s made a big difference to me and I don’t get so tired—I don’t have to concentrate quite so hard talking to people, or rely on subtitles on a television screen.’

‘I had no idea you had a hearing difficulty until I saw you take your hearing aid out and show Ruby,’ he said.

‘I suppose I should have told you.’ She shrugged. ‘But, then again, just because I can’t hear that well, it doesn’t mean I have to be treated differently.’

He blinked in surprise. ‘Why on earth do you think I would have treated you differently?’

‘Some people can be a bit funny about it when they find out. They start talking really loudly—as if that makes any difference —or they treat me as if I’m slow and can’t understand what they’re saying. Which, I have to admit, drives me crazy. If you talk to me and I’m not facing you, I don’t always realise that you’re talking to me and I might not pick it up, but otherwise I’m just your average person.’

Average? No, she wasn’t just your average person. There was something special about Katrina Gregory.

Rhys suppressed the thought as quickly as it arrived. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. There wasn’t room in his life.

‘So I don’t tend to tell people unless they notice,’ she finished. ‘It avoids the fuss.’

He could understand that. He didn’t like fuss either. ‘Do you know what caused your hearing loss?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘I had a CT scan because there was a spike in the higher frequencies and they wanted to rule out anything nasty, like an acoustic neuroma.’ She grinned. ‘I asked if I could have a picture. I thought they’d print something on paper, but they actually gave me a film. It’s fabulous. Maddie says I only did it so I could show everyone and prove that there was a brain in my head—but that’s because I got higher marks in my exams than she did.’

Katrina’s expression told him that this was mutual affectionate teasing rather than a bitchy swipe. Rhys found himself wondering what it would’ve been like to grow up with a sibling or close cousin teasing him like that.

His family didn’t do teasing.

If the truth were told, they didn’t do anything except avoid each other.

‘I take it the scan was clear?’ he asked.

‘Yes. And after talking to me the registrar said he thought my hearing loss was probably caused when I had mumps as a child. Maddie still has the odd guilty fit about it, because she says she’s the one who gave me mumps so therefore it’s her fault I can’t hear properly.’ Katrina flapped a hand. ‘But that’s just ridiculous. She’s also the one who gave me my hearing back, because if she hadn’t nagged me about it I probably wouldn’t have bothered getting a referral to audiology—I would’ve carried on as I was, assuming that I was completely normal because I didn’t know any different, and struggling a bit more than I’d ever admit to because I didn’t want to be treated differently.’

Rhys went very still. A child with a virus causing a serious condition. It was a little too close for comfort to his past. ‘So your family blames Maddie for your hearing loss?’ he asked.

‘No, of course they don’t!’ She frowned. ‘How on earth can you blame a child for falling ill? It’s not Maddie’s fault that she picked up a virus at school—the same as it wasn’t my fault that I caught it too and it affected me in a different way to the way it affected her.’ She shrugged. ‘These things just happen. You can’t let it ruin the rest of your life.’

These things just happen.

How very different his life might have been if his family had chosen that line of thought. If they’d been strong enough to pull together instead of letting his little sister’s death tear them apart.

‘Are you all right, Rhys?’ she asked, looking slightly concerned.

‘I’m fine.’ You couldn’t change the past, so in his view there was no point in talking about it. ‘And you’re right about this food. It’s fabulous.’

Katrina realised that Rhys had deliberately changed the subject. Something was clearly wrong, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Not here and now, at least. Maybe he’d open up to her when they got to know each other a little better.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about food and films and books, and Katrina was surprised by how much their tastes meshed. But it wasn’t just that. There was something about Rhys. Something in his blue, blue eyes that made her heart beat a little bit faster and made her wonder what it would feel like if that beautiful mouth slid across her own. Which shocked her, as she hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone—hadn’t even thought of kissing anyone—since Pete. Hadn’t thought of a man in terms of anything other than as a colleague for the last couple of years.

This was crazy.

Particularly as Rhys worked with her.

Been there, done that, worn the T-shirt to shreds. She certainly wasn’t going to risk a repeat of what had happened with Pete—the horrendous atmosphere that had, in the end, forced her to move hospitals to get away from the awkwardness. She loved working at the London Victoria—really loved the way everyone on the ward was like a huge extended family. No way would she be stupid enough to forget that lesson now, have an affair with Rhys and end up having to leave here, too.

Finally, after hot sweet mint tea and tiny pastries soaked in honey, she leaned back in her chair. ‘I’m almost too full to move.’

‘You should’ve left me the lamb,’ he said with a grin.

‘Baa,’ she retorted. Then she glanced at her watch. ‘Do you know, we’ve been here three hours?’ And yet it had felt like minutes.

‘I’d better get the bill,’ he said.

‘No, we’re going halves,’ she protested.

‘Absolutely not. This was my idea—my apology to you.’

‘Ah, but we’re friends now. And friends share.’

He folded his arms. ‘Don’t argue with me, Dr Gregory, or I’ll pull rank.’

‘Bossy, huh?’ But she wasn’t going to argue—she’d had much a better idea. ‘Tell you what. You can pay this time, but next time’s my bill. We can go and see a film in Leicester Square or something and talk about it over tapas afterwards.’

‘That,’ he said, ‘would be lovely. I’d like that.’

After Rhys had paid the bill, he insisted on seeing Katrina home.

‘There’s no need, you know,’ she said. ‘I’ve lived in London for ten years now. I’m used to being independent.’

‘Humour me. It’s a Welsh thing.’

‘So you’re Sir Lancelot?’ she teased.

‘Lancelot was French. Gawain, on the other hand, was Welsh.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, I can see I’m going to enjoy being friends with you, Rhys Morgan.’