Part 9 (2/2)

Carrie gritted her teeth. The mutual admiration society was wearing thin. 'Fine.'

'Those sutures can come out at the weekend.' He stirred his drink.

'Yes, thank you, Charlie. I can count to five.' She clicked on her file.

Charlie turned and raised an eyebrow at her as he leant back against the sink. 'You can bring her in and I'll take them out if you want.'

Did he not think her capable? 'I know you don't have a whole lot of faith in my doctoring skills, Charlie, but I'm pretty sure even I can manage to remove four sutures.'

What the h.e.l.l? Something had put her knickers well and truly in a twist. No. Do not think about her knickers! 'I know.' He shrugged, sipping at his drink. 'I just thought, you know...I'm going to be here anyway, and I thought she might enjoy another dance.' He smiled, thinking about Dana's dance style.

'You're going to be here?'

He nodded.

'So, let me get this straight.' She looked at him over her gla.s.ses. 'You're here at the crack of dawn until late at night. And weekends? Charlie, I hate to break this to you but you need a life.'

This from a woman who pretended she'd rather deal with piles of paperwork than minister to the sick and needy, a role to which she was so obviously suited. 'You sound like Joe.'

She nodded and returned to her work. 'I knew I liked Joe for a reason.'

Hearing her talk affectionately about his friend churned in his gut. 'So, that's a no to me removing the sutures?'

She gave him a you're-interrupting-me look. 'Yes. That's a no. Look, thanks, but even if I wasn't doing it myself, I hardly think this is the place for a kid to hang out.'

He felt another twist in his gut. She sounded just like Veronica. She looked untouchable again in her pinstripes and gla.s.ses. 'But it was OK in an emergency?'

She heard the steel in his voice and saw his eyes turn icy. 'I'm sorry,' she said, taking her gla.s.ses off. 'I didn't mean to offend you. But you've got to concede I'm right. This place isn't exactly Buckingham Palace. She's four. Call me overprotective but I'd like to shelter her from this side of life for as long as I can.'

He straightened. He was so used to his colourful working environment he often didn't see the grungy aspect. But he supposed that mothers had to worry about that type of thing. What the h.e.l.l did he know about being a parent? 'Of course, you're right. I'll let you get back to your work.'

Carrie watched as the door shut behind him. The end of her a.s.signment couldn't come soon enough.

Charlie sat in the chair while an efficient-looking woman with a severe hairdo and a twinkle in her eye extracted blood from the vein in the crook of his elbow.

'Last one, love?' she asked.

Charlie nodded. 'Sure is, Liz.'

'At least you'll be able to get on with your life now, love,' she chatted away.

Charlie nodded again. Liz was the second person to utter those words today. How many times had he thought them this last year? Getting the all-clear so he could bring his life off hold? Carrie's words from earlier taunted him-you need a life.

He watched his blood pour into the blood tube. Infected by a deadly virus? Or not? A flip of a card. A roll of a dice. Is this what his life had become? You need a life. The words reverberated around his head. Liz unclipped the tourniquet and stuck some gauze at the puncture site.

'Bend your arm up,' she instructed unnecessarily.

Charlie did as he was told. You need a life.

'Just a few more days now, Charlie.'

He stared at Liz.

You need a life.

Just a few more days now.

Did he really want to wait a few more days? He'd waited for three hundred and sixty-five of them. More, if he counted the numerous blurry years as his marriage had disintegrated and the divorce became final.

Did he want to waste one single day more? Suddenly everything crystallised in his head. He grabbed Liz by the shoulders and gave her a huge peck on the cheek.

'No, Liz, today. Right now, today.'

He kissed her cheek again and practically sprinted out of the pathology clinic. He'd been feeling sorry for himself for an entire year. Putting everything on hold just in case. In case what? He had HIV? So what if he did? Was he just going to give up work? Take to his bed and wait to die? When he could have decades to live? Decades to make a difference?

Well, no more. Carrie had challenged him to get a life and that was exactly what he was going to do. Well...more of a life anyway. Starting right now. His brisk long-legged stride had him back at the drop-in centre within minutes.

He inspected the outside with a critical eye. It was looking old and worn, even though it had only opened five years ago. He'd been too busy keeping it running to notice how drab it looked and there was never enough money for luxuries such as paint anyway. That was about to change.

Charlie strode through the front door, ignoring Angela's cheery h.e.l.lo. He headed for his office, opening the filing cabinet, found the 'E' section and flicked through until he found the expansion plans for the drop-in centre. He shook his head at his complacency-he should have filed them under 'P' for prat.

He left his office and marched to the staffroom with a single-minded determination he hadn't felt since before his marriage had fallen apart. He crashed the door open and stood staring at a startled Carrie.

'Charlie?'

'I have something to show you.'

Carrie watched him move towards her, carrying a long roll of paper in his hand. She noticed the gauze at the crook of his elbow as he drew closer. Pills and now blood tests? Or maybe he'd given a blood donation? 'I'm kind of busy...'

'Oh, you're going to want to see this.' Charlie pushed some coffee-cups aside and laid the plans out flat in the middle of the table. He placed a mug on each corner.

Carrie recognised architectural drawings when she saw them. But of what? She sighed and removed her gla.s.ses. 'Building a house?'

Charlie laughed, leaning over the plans and admiring them again for the first time in a year. 'Better. I'm remodelling the centre.'

Carrie stared at the plans. Was he mad? The centre was going under-big time. 'These are...adventurous.'

He nodded. 'Yes.' Charlie straightened and pushed away from the table. He moved to the sink and flicked on the kettle. 'For five years I've struggled to keep everything going on a shoestring budget. Offering limited services in an area that's crying out for maximum support. And it's not good enough. This idea...'he walked back to the table, leant over and poked a finger at his plans '...addresses all the areas that are sadly lacking at the moment.'

He pushed away again and paced back and forth, aware she was a.n.a.lysing the plans. He ran his hand through his hair. 'I want to be able to provide full-time legal advice and have a full-time counsellor. I want to be able to run a needle exchange and a methadone programme and have another doctor or two so we can really provide a top-notch service.'

He walked back to the table and braced his hands on the back of a chair. 'I want this to be a one-stop shop to meet all this community's needs.'

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