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‘With a bump that size, the dizziness and disorientation, you know you probably have a mild concussion, right?’

‘I’m not concussed.’ Liv tried to push Callum away and shake her head, but immediately regretted the action as dizziness swamped her again and she staggered.

‘Right.’ Callum caught her again and guided her into a chair. ‘You’re dizzy, disorientated and have one hell of a lump on your noggin. I think we should pop you up to the hospital to check everything’s OK.’

‘I don’t need to go to hospital.’

‘Liv, if one of your patients . . .’

‘Callum, please. I do not want to go to hospital.’ The thought of being a patient again made her stomach roll. ‘Will you just take me home. Please?’

He nodded reluctantly. ‘Only if you’re sure.’

‘I am. Please, just take me back to my cottage.’

‘All right. I’ll call a cab. But if you get any dizzier, or develop any other symptoms, you’re going to the hospital.’

‘OK.’

‘And I’m staying with you.’

‘Callum, I don’t need you to do that . . .’

‘No arguments, Liv. You know a patient with suspected concussion needs observation. It’s this or the hospital. Your choice.’

‘Home. I want to go home.’ She’d have agreed to almost anything to avoid another trip to the hospital. She’d figure out a way to get rid of Callum later, and she could let herself curl up and have the good cry she really needed.

* * *

Callum watched Liv as she stared out of the cab window, his concern growing. ‘Still with me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sure?’

Liv took a deep breath and turned to him, her smile brittle and eyes overly bright.

‘I’m fine.’

By the time they reached her cottage, she was shaking, and even in the poorly lit street, Callum could see a grey tinge to her tightly-pursed lips. He paid the cab driver and followed Liv up the path to the chocolate box cottage. She still hadn’t managed to unlock the door, so he gently took the keys from her trembling fingers and did the necessary.

Liv sighed gratefully and rushed into the hallway where she grabbed hold of the banister, her knuckles whitening with pressure.

Callum watched her warily. She wasn’t fully coherent or present, but he couldn’t tell if it was a sign of the concussion he’d warned her about, or the stress she was clearly experiencing. People reacted differently to injury and stressful events, but even as Callum tried to remember that, he was worried about Liv’s response. In all the time he’d spent with her over the last few weeks, she’d proven to be calm and level-headed, and he didn’t think she was someone usually likely to panic.

‘Do you need a hand?’ He grimaced at her sharp gasp and the sudden tension in her shoulders. He longed to reach out and touch her, to soothe her pain away, but knew she wouldn’t accept it.

‘No.’ Her voice was thick with emotion, and she still wouldn’t look at him. ‘Just want to clean myself up a bit.’ Still avoiding his gaze, she started up the stairs.

‘You’ll leave the door unlocked?’

‘For God’s sake, Callum, I’m not concussed!’

‘Then it won’t matter, because you’ll come straight back down. But if you had a dizzy spell and fell, then I really don’t want to have to break down your door, OK?’

‘OK.’

Callum knew she was far from OK, but decided to let it slide. For now. ‘Can I do anything to make myself useful? Get you a drink or something to eat?’