She rapped on the open door and he looked up. ‘Yes?’
‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
‘Fine.’ He spread his hands. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘It’s just…’ Even though part of her knew she should keep her mouth shut, the words spilled out. ‘Apart from Tuesday, you’ve worked late every night this week, even if you came on duty well before 9:00 a.m.’
He shrugged. ‘I’d rather spend my shifts actually treating patients on the ward or in clinic, and I need to catch up on the paperwork at some point.’
‘Fair enough, but you’re taking it to extremes. Working these sorts of hours really isn’t good for you.’
He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. ‘So what are you saying, Katrina?’
‘There’s more to life than work, and maybe you should cut yourself some slack.’
‘Thank you for your concern, but it’s really not necessary.’
Her mouth really didn’t know when to stop. ‘Actually, I think it is. Because you’re working ridiculous hours, everyone else is starting to feel they ought to work late, too—and that’s not fair. Especially on colleagues who have young families.’
His expression was unreadable. ‘I wasn’t aware I’d asked anyone else to work late.’
‘You haven’t,’ she admitted, feeling her face heat. ‘But you do it, so they feel that if they don’t they’re not pulling their weight.’
‘As you’re clearly their spokesperson, you can go back and tell them I said I don’t expect them to work the same hours as I do. If anyone has a problem with my hours, they can talk to me themselves.’ He frowned. ‘And if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and check on a patient.’
‘The night staff are perfectly capable of dealing with things. If there’s a problem where they need your help, they’d be straight in to see you, and you know it.’ She folded her arms. ‘I think you’re just avoiding the issue.’
‘There isn’t an issue.’
‘Yes, there is. You’re working crazy hours and it isn’t good for you—or for the patients.’ She shook her head in frustration. ‘You have to be tired. Nobody can put in that amount of hours without wearing themselves out.’
‘I’m fine. And, just for the record, I would never, never put a patient at risk.’ His voice was very cool.
She sighed. ‘You really won’t let anyone close, will you? On Tuesday, you said we were friends. Since then, you’ve avoided me—and you’ve used work as an excuse not to go to the cinema with me. My mistake for taking your words at face value. You were obviously just being polite at the restaurant.’
When he said nothing, she shrugged. ‘Well, now I know. I’ll leave you to it. Sorry to have bothered you.’ She turned away.
‘Katrina, wait.’ Rhys left his desk and put his hand on her shoulder as she reached the doorway.
She turned to face him. ‘What?’
‘I have the social skills of a rhinoceros. I’m fine with patients and their parents because it’s work and I know what I’m doing. But…’ He removed his hand from her shoulder and raked it through his hair. ‘I’m not particularly good at this friendship stuff. I’m sorry.’
Katrina had known several people at university who had been practically geniuses in the lab, but utterly hopeless in social situations and hadn’t had a clue what to say in the bar. Rhys was clearly the same type: talk about facts and food and film and medicine and he was fine. Talk about something personal, and he was all at sea. And right at that moment he was looking awkward and as embarrassed as she’d just felt. He was trying, really trying, at something he obviously found difficult. The least she could do was acknowledge that. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘I probably do put in too many hours. But I happen to like my job.’
‘Including paperwork?’ Now, that one she didn’t believe.
‘It’s not quite the kind of paperwork you’re thinking of. Right now I’m reviewing all our patient leaflets and updating them, and working out how we can make our department’s website pages easier for parents and children to use. I could do it at home, but from a technical viewpoint it’s a lot quicker to do it at the hospital. And,’ he added, ‘I might point out that you stay late, too, or you come in early to read stories to the children.’
‘Half an hour at the beginning or end of my shift,’ she said. ‘That’s reasonable. What you’re doing isn’t reasonable. It’s practically doing a double shift. And don’t protest, Rhys—you know it isn’t reasonable.’