Angel Kate Read Free

as she tested the oxygen taps in a treatment room. 'I saw you batting your eyelashes at Simon Brownley.'
    Kate wasn't amused. 'Don't be silly – Simon's an old friend of Dr Mallory's.' She rechecked equipment prepared earlier by the day staff, knowing that nothing was more infuriating than to start an aseptic technique and find no Savlon on the trolley. She removed an empty bottle from an overhead cupboard and added it to the dispensary basket just inside the door. 'You're a fusspot,' scoffed Mike.
    Kate ignored this.
    'Fusspot Kate,' he taunted, trying to make her react. 'I take my job seriously,' she said serenely.
    'You can say that again, Matron!' grinned Mike gleefully. Ever since the first night she'd reported for duty on A & E and innocently confessed to nerves, confiding in the red-headed SHO with the cheeky grin, he'd been fascinated by Staff Nurse Wisdom with her unadorned face and her unflirtatious ways.
    Angel Kate, Mike had nicknamed  the new staff nurse. She was very competent in spite of that self-confessed secret terror. If he hadn't heard it from her own lips, he wouldn't have believed it. 'So-o-o?' he teased, leaning on the nurses' station and grinning all over that boyish freckled face which had inspired so many unwise confidences in the past. 'Why should Brownley be rewarded with smiles, while I get the cold shoulder? Stop fighting it, Angel Kate. You know you feel an overwhelming desire for my fit young body.'
    Kate's look of annoyance shut Mike up for all of ten seconds, but he knew he'd sussed her out. Oh yes! Someone that cool just had to be a volcano underneath. What was she doing with a boring git like Mallory?
    Mike never gave up easily. He could generally wear them down. He followed her into the sluice and Kate found herself trapped in a corner by the sink clutching an armful of grey papier mâché vomit bowls. She sighed and looked pointedly at the fob watch pinned upside down on her tunic, waiting patiently for Mike to get bored and abandon this ridiculous carry-on.
    She'd got such perfect skin. He leaned closer. 'What you need is someone to show you how to do yourself up a bit. Put stuff on your eyes, bit of lippy, make the best of yourself. With your figure you could be one of those top models. You'd earn a damn sight more than you will slaving away here at Crisp's.'
    Kate went tense. 'Don't be silly,' she said tightly. 'Please let me get on.'
    Wouldn't get any encouragement from James Mallory though, would she. A pathologist, for chrissake! One of that breed who hide themselves away in laboratories because they can't cope with real live people … Well, that was Mike's theory. He dashed a hand through his mop of red curls. How the hell did these two get involved in the first place?
    'Mike!' complained a voice from the doorway, 'I've been looking for you everywhere! You promised you'd supervise me doing bloods.' It was the plump blonde medical student from Leeds, mask dangling beneath her chin, doing volunteer work in order to get some extra clinical experience during the Easter vacation under the guidance of the elusive Dr Filing.
    'Nope, hadn't forgotten you, Em. Staff here was in need of my advice and expertise, but we're finished here now.'
    Kate raised an eyebrow and got a broad grin in return.
    'I told you I'd been invited to a party over in the block,' complained Em. 'Now it's too late for me to go home and change.' 
    'They'll turn the lights off,' said Mike knowingly, 'who's to notice? Might pop across later myself to check you're ok.'
    Kate made good her escape.
    *  *  *
    Emergency! The red phone had a direct line linking St Crispin's with the ambulance station. Its urgent message shrilled through the department. Kate—nearest member of the team—had her hand on the phone within seconds.
    She would never forget the horror of that September day when she had crouched helplessly over her father's body. If only she'd know what to do, how to help him. It was knowing he need not have