Читать книгу The GP's Marriage Wish - Judy Campbell, Judy Campbell - Страница 5

HE LOUNGED confidently against the wall in the assembly hall, a thick quiff of hair swept over cool dark blue eyes, watching the excited crowd of teenagers milling around him. Nobody could do attitude better than Connor Saunders—and he was arrogant enough to know that he made all the other youths at the Braithwaite Sixth Form College Ball look like wimps. He also had to be the hunkiest and sexiest guy in the room, thought Victoria Sorensen wistfully.

Victoria twitched her dress nervously and flicked a look at herself in the mirror next to the honours board—not a reassuring sight. She wasn’t sure about the blue colour against her auburn hair, she felt her glasses made her look geekish and she was horribly aware of the wretched bands over her front teeth. If only she looked more sophisticated, stood out from the crowd a bit more, Connor just might ask her to dance… After today he was going to take a year out, going round the world, before studying medicine, and she’d be working at her mother’s surgery before going to university, also to study medicine. She might never see him again.

A familiar mixture of resentment and jealousy jolted Victoria for a second—how easily everything came to Connor Saunders! Girls, scholarships, medals—they all dropped into his lap like ripe apples. There’d been an unspoken rivalry between them for some time: she was just as bright as him, but because he had the loudest voice, the cocksure personality that almost assumed he would get every prize going, she was left in the shadows.

A group of boys was round him now, laughing at something he’d said, and he was grinning back at them, flicking back his hair, used to being the centre of attention. That was the trouble, of course—he had such charisma. When he was around there was a sense of fun and adventure—perhaps even danger—and even though she resented the way he’d always pipped her at the post in so many ways, of course Victoria had been hopelessly attracted to him while they’d been students together at sixth form college.

Her friend Jean Martin sidled up to her. ‘Our hero’s looking good, isn’t he?’ She grinned, looking at Connor. ‘And he knows it,’ she added.

‘I can’t believe I might not see him again for years…’ said Victoria bleakly.

‘’Course you will! Don’t your mum and his dad work together at the medical centre? There’s bound to be occasions you’ll meet through them in the future.’ Jean looked at Victoria’s gloomy face and sighed. ‘Look, kiddo, you’re mad about him—why don’t you ask him to dance before you go your separate ways?’

‘That’s ridiculous—I don’t want to demean myself by pleading for a dance…’

Jean groaned. ‘Come on, Vic, women have been emancipated for nearly a century—why should we hang about waiting for the men to get round to asking us? Don’t be a wimp—what have you got to lose? If you don’t dance with him now, you’ll never know what it’s like to be held in those strong manly arms…’

An unwilling smile lifted Victoria’s lips for a second. ‘I’ll just have to imagine it, then, I suppose…’

‘Oh, to hell with it! This is your last chance. Go on, I dare you! He’ll admire you for it!’

Victoria looked across at Connor doubtfully and just as she did so, their eyes met for a second, a flash of amusement flickering across his face as if he knew exactly what she thought of him. She flushed in embarrassment, then her mood became more combatant. Jean was right—why should she play the quiet little flower, frightened to approach him because of what he might think of her? Women didn’t have to play a passive role nowadays.

She took a deep breath and walked up to him, ignoring the lads around him.

‘Connor, I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing each other for a while. How about a dance before we go?’

Connor looked down at her lazily. ‘Ah, Freckles…the last goodbye, eh?’ He glanced around at his friends. ‘Quite an honour to be asked to dance by the head girl, isn’t it?’ Then he lowered his voice slightly, his blue eyes dancing with laughter. ‘It’s been sparky competition between us for the last two years, Vic—I’ll miss it.’

Victoria stood for a second, waiting for him to accept her invitation, and the little crowd around him watched them both with interest. Connor grinned at her, then nodded his head towards his friends. ‘Sorry, darlin’—can’t keep the lads waiting. We’re off for a few beers before the pubs close, so the dance routine will have to wait for now. Some other time, eh?’

A ripple of laughter went round the boys and Connor lifted a careless hand to her and strolled out of the room, followed by his sniggering cohorts, leaving Victoria standing alone. She stared after them, her cheeks burning and a horrible suspicion of hot tears of humiliation in her eyes. It was as if she had been slapped in the face. How dared he embarrass her like that in front of everyone—how could he be so cruel?

In a second Jean was at her side, her arm round Victoria’s shoulders. ‘What a rat!’ she whispered. ‘Take no notice of him—that was all done to show off to that bunch of morons around him. Forget it ever happened.’

Victoria drew herself up with dignity, trying to disguise her bitter feeling of rejection, hardly able to believe that someone she’d thought had admired her, even though he might not have fancied her, could have snubbed her so publicly. Then that steely stubbornness of spirit that had rescued her so many times before when competing with Connor came to her rescue.

She turned with a bright smile to Jean, lifted her chin and said lightly, ‘Manners maketh man… You’re quite right, Jean. Connor Saunders is a complete rat and I don’t care if I never see him again in my life.’

His tall figure disappeared out of the door, and despite her feisty words Victoria felt a hollow sense of betrayal. She’d been made a figure of fun—the girl who’d dared to ask Connor Saunders for a dance and been turned down for a few pints of beer! That was it, then. She would never think of the man again—from now on it was if he had never existed!