Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Old Habits Die Hard

She dialled Nana from her car and reported to her.

"Do you think someone can come to check on him in the evening?" Viola said. "Anyone who's had a flu shot already. He's still contagious. Neither Will nor Sam should," she added. "Considering Fiona's expecting, and Sam has the little'uns."

"That leaves me, dear, and I assume you don't want me near him," Nana said.

"Well, a girlfriend perhaps?" Viola asked.

"If there's one, I haven't been introduced to the poor soul," Nana answered, chuckling.

Viola had said to him she'd come back - but now that she was out of that house she just couldn't understand what had pushed her to talk to him like that. That had been banter, and Viola didn't do banter - with her patients, nor with men, and most definitely, absolutely never with her exes! As amicable as her relationship with Hani was these days, she'd never behave like that around him! Calling herself cold-blooded. Touching his face. His warm cheek, the rough beard under her palm.

"Alright, I'll stop by his place in the evening, and I'll let you know how he's feeling," Viola said in a defeated tone.

***

After work, she walked into the Oak and Shield and headed straight to the counter. Mrs. Owens saw her, gave her a wave, and disappeared in the kitchen. She was back a few seconds later with Viola's order.

"My dear, just so you know, Dr. Fenton is allergic to onions," Mrs. Owens said with a flirty laugh and passed the bag into Viola's hands.

"The cullen skink is for me," Viola lied.

"Oh, I see," the landlady drew out. "But I assume the crumble is for him, right? It's Miss Rosa's, it's basically floating in custard."

Viola could've lied the pudding was hers as well, but that would be pushing it. She was sure by now the whole village knew of her low-carb diet. She thanked the landlady and fled.

You are an idiot, Viola. Why not just tell it as it is? It's not like you're doing anything at all inappropriate, or illegal, or even remotely worthy of all the trouble you're going through to conceal it.

She parked her Panda in front of the Periwinkle Grove, picked up the food, and climbed out of her car. She ended up standing for a while in front of his door, searching through her Mulberry, until she figured out that she'd left his keys in her glove box.

When she opened the door, she heard loud voices coming from upstairs. Her first thought - that Mable had been wrong, and there was a girlfriend - was alarming, but not because running into said girlfriend would be unpleasant. Viola had no trouble navigating such social situations. It's the fact that her thoughts jumped to a girlfriend, instead of, say, a mate or a relative that made her pause in his hall. And then she realised she was hearing his telly.

She took off her jacket and boots, washed her hands in his kitchen, and walked upstairs. He was asleep, sprawled on his stomach, pretty much diagonally across his bed. Viola threw Bruce Willis on the screen a sardonic look, picked up the remote near Rhys' hand, and turned the telly off. Rhys stirred and made a disgruntled noise.

"Rhys," Viola called softly.

He opened his eyes and rose on one arm.

"Hey," he said raspily, cleared his throat, and shifted, slowly rolling on his backside and sitting up.

"Hiya," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," he said.

She almost said 'You always do when ill,' but bit her tongue. It's been ten years, and maybe he didn't anymore - and even if he did, saying 'always' would be flaunting her past knowledge of him.