She answered Mrs Lacey’s final questions, then shepherded them back out to the ward and sweet-talked Hannah, the auxiliary nurse, into finding Kevin a sandwich—with the pain under control again the little boy had recovered his appetite.
Katrina didn’t see Rhys again until the end of her afternoon clinic. ‘Thanks for rescuing me earlier,’ she said. ‘I really appreciate it.’
‘No problem. I could barely hear her myself—the ward isn’t exactly a quiet place, and if someone keeps their face covered you can’t lip-read.’
Katrina grimaced. ‘I should’ve said something.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Rhys frowned. ‘I’m pulling rank. Come on. Coffee.’
‘But I have paperwork to do,’ she protested.
‘Paperwork can wait. You’ve finished your clinic and I’ve done the ward rounds—it’s time to take a break.’
‘Rhys—’ she began.
‘I want to talk to you about something,’ he said.
He wanted to talk to her? Her heart missed a beat—and then she berated herself silently. Of course he didn’t want to talk to her about their relationship. They didn’t have a relationship, other than that of colleagues.
But she let him shepherd her to a quiet corner of the hospital canteen and buy her a latte.
‘It’s noisy enough in here for people not to be able to overhear us, but is it too noisy for you? Can you hear me OK?’ he asked.
He’d automatically sat so his face was in the light; despite the hubbub around them she knew she’d be able to lip-read anything that she missed hearing. ‘Yes.’
‘Right. Now, I’m going to tell you something important, so I want you to pay attention. Katrina Gregory, you’re a damn good doctor. And your hearing doesn’t change that at all.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘It’s just that sometimes…No, forget it.’
‘Talk to me, Katrina,’ he said.
She smiled wryly. ‘Isn’t that a bit like pots and kettles?’
He acknowledged her point with a smile of his own. ‘People who keep themselves to themselves probably notice it more in other people. You need to talk about this.’
‘As I said, pots and kettles.’
He flipped a hand dismissively. ‘My personal life isn’t spilling over into work.’
Katrina lifted her chin. ‘Neither is mine.’
‘I didn’t mean that.’ He sighed. ‘I’m making a mess of this. What I’m trying to say is that I get the feeling you’re worried about your hearing affecting your work—but from my point of view it doesn’t. At all. You’re good with the children and you’re good with the parents. This afternoon, anyone would’ve found it difficult to hear Mrs Lacey. I couldn’t hear her either. So it wasn’t you.’ He frowned. ‘Has someone said something to you about it?’
‘Not here.’ The words were out before she could stop them.
His frown deepened. ‘Do you mean you don’t want to talk about it here, or that someone’s said something to you elsewhere?’
She squirmed. ‘Do we have to discuss this?’
‘Yes. It’s important. Katrina, nobody can overhear us,’ he reassured her. ‘And if someone’s said something to upset you, I want to know.’
‘It’s in the past. I’m over it.’
‘Are you?’
She lifted her chin. ‘I don’t mope about things.’
‘I realise that, but if someone knocks your confidence, whatever they said comes back into your mind when you have a not-so-good day—like the one I think you’ve had today. You wouldn’t be human if it was otherwise.’
‘No.’
‘So talk to me. It’ll help.’ He reached over and squeezed her hand. Just for a moment. And the need that surged through her took her breath away.
‘Katrina?’ he prompted.
‘All right. Since you must know, it was my ex,’ she said. ‘Pete. Maddie calls him “Pete the Toad”—actually, that’s her politest name for him.’ She swallowed hard. She may as well tell Rhys the truth. And then he’d back off and she’d be able to get control of her emotions again. ‘He left me because I was damaged goods. Because he was afraid that if he stayed with me and we got married and had a child, I wouldn’t hear the baby crying—that I wouldn’t be a good enough wife and I sure as hell wouldn’t be a good enough mother.’
Rhys looked shocked. ‘What? That’s ridiculous. Katrina, look at the way you are with the kids on the ward. You’re the one we rely on to calm kids down and tell stories and distract them, and you’re an excellent doctor, too. Pete didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.’