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‘What would you define as arthouse films?’ he queried.
‘This is where you can officially label me weird,’ she said. ‘Not modern ones—really old ones. Films like Citizen Kane and Vertigo. I have a bit of a soft spot for film noir.’
‘Good choice,’ he said. ‘I really like the ones written by Cornell Woolrich as well as the Raymond Chandler films.’
She blinked, then fiddled with her hearing aid. ‘Nope, it’s working,’ she said. ‘Tell me—did I imagine it or did you really just say “Cornell Woolrich”?’
‘I did.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve got all his short stories, too. I discovered them when I was a teenager and loved them—mind you, after one particular story it took me two years before I could order lamb again. And in a Welsh pub that’s a bit difficult.’
She laughed, knowing exactly which story he meant—a tale with a twist that had had exactly the same effect on her. ‘I think,’ Katrina said, ‘you and I are going to get on very well together.’
He lifted his glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
Her fingers brushed against his as they clinked glasses, and that same weird awareness she’d felt when she’d first shaken his hand seemed to fizz through her body.
An awareness she wasn’t going to act on. She already knew first-hand what happened when you dated a colleague and it went wrong. The awkwardness of having to work together afterwards, trying not to think about just how intimately you knew each other. The embarrassment of everyone knowing what a failure your relationship was, thanks to the hospital grapevine. And, worse still, in a break-up as messy as hers had been with Pete, your colleagues on the ward feeling forced to take sides…No. She wasn’t risking that happening ever again. Her relationship with Rhys was going to be a friendship—and nothing more.
Their food arrived, a huge platter containing little dishes and a heap of rustic bread.
‘Lamb.’ She gestured to the skewers of meat rubbed with spices and then chargrilled.
He laughed. ‘That’s a barefaced attempt to get me to leave it all for you to scoff.’
‘Rats. My dastardly plan has been foiled,’ she said, laughing and breaking off a piece of bread so she could scoop up some of the roast aubergine purée. ‘Mmm. This is good.’
He tried the tabbouleh. ‘So’s this. Is that cinnamon I taste?’
‘And watercress.’ She paused. ‘Is your palate honed that well by eating out a lot, or do you cook as well?’
‘I eat out a fair bit,’ he admitted. ‘I can cook—but if I’ve worked late it’s quicker and easier to stop somewhere on the way home.’
If? From what Lynne had said, it was more like ‘when’, she thought.
‘How about you?’ he asked.
‘Cooking relaxes me. I like experimenting.’ She smiled. ‘And anything involving chocolate.’
He gestured to the table. ‘No chocolate here.’
‘Ah, but you wait until you try the chocolate and cardamom ice cream from the dessert menu.’
As they worked their way through the little savoury pastries stuffed with cheese, the stuffed vine leaves and the felafel, Rhys asked, ‘So how was little Petros Smith?’
Katrina wrinkled her nose. ‘His haemoglobin levels weren’t brilliant, but nowhere near bad enough to need a transfusion, and I think it would’ve been more stressful for him if I’d admitted him—so I let his mum take him home. I gave her a leaflet about Petros’s condition and told her what to look out for; she’s promised to bring him straight back to us if she’s worried at all. He should pick up with a bit of rest—and the main thing is that his family knows now that there’s a problem and what he needs to avoid in future.’
‘That’s good. What about the Jeffers family?’
‘They’re coming to terms with the situation,’ Katrina said. ‘They have another audiology appointment in six weeks’ time, but they were warned this morning that Ruby’s fairly likely to need an aid.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I wish health screening had been as good when I was a kid.’
Clearly Katrina had had hearing difficulties for a long time, Rhys thought. ‘So how long have you been deaf?’
‘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.’
