The Long Walk Back: the perfect uplifting second chance romance for 2018. Rachel Dove

first of its kind in the area, it would house several dozen war veterans, specialising in rehabilitation and prosthetics. The centre would also have an impressive program for PTSD sufferers, meaning that the wounded service personnel they took in had a one stop shop at their fingertips, providing accommodation, a safe haven for their recovery and transition into life post service. Trevor was so excited about the project that eventually Kate couldn’t help but say yes. Her old job was no longer possible anyway, not now. And Trevor had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse – so here she was.

      ‘Morning Trevor,’ she said, sitting down in the chair opposite his large walnut desk. Trevor looked up from the pile of files he was poring over and winked at her, his grin dipping when he saw her.

      ‘No sleep again? You need to get some rest you know, why don’t you let me prescribe you something, to help you sleep?’

      He didn’t push it further. Kate had started shaking her head the minute the words had reached her ears. ‘No, thanks though. I need to be alert, in case.’

      Trevor nodded, his lips pursing with the effort of keeping his thoughts to himself.

      ‘We have a new intake today, and I want you to be his doctor.’ He passed the file over to her, and got up, walking to the kettle which stood on the small kitchen area he had in his office. Kate looked at the label on the folder and pushed the file away with one finger.

      ‘No Trevor, you can’t give him to me,’ she said, turning around in her chair to face him, crossing her arms across her chest huffily. He ignored her, pouring a large cup full of hot water. He stirred in coffee and sugar, repeating the action in another cup. He added milk to both and handed one cup to her without even asking if she wanted it. She took it gratefully, gulping at the steaming hot drink as best she could without burning her lips. He sat back down at his desk, taking a swig of his cup whilst pushing the file back over to her side of the desk.

      ‘I can, and I will,’ he said, forcefully, and she glared at him.

      ‘It won’t work,’ she said like a petulant teenager. ‘You know that, right?’

      Trevor smiled and waggled his eyebrows at her. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. She hated his bloody chirpy demeanour on a morning. She couldn’t raise half his optimism after a full night’s sleep and a vat of coffee, and she didn’t want to try.

      ‘Fine,’ she said tersely, reaching for the file.

      He grinned at his triumph. Kate wanted to poke his eyes out.

      ‘How is the patient today?’ he asked, his tone softer. Kate stood up, tucking the file under her arm and gripping the coffee cup in the other. ‘Just the same.’

      Trevor sat forward on his desk, resting his elbows on the table. ‘You know what I’m going to say, Kate. You need to call him.’

      ‘No!’ Kate exploded, splashing coffee down her arm. She felt the hot liquid burn her skin, and felt an odd sense of relief at the pain. I am alive then, she thought to herself. Lovely.

      Trevor ignored her outburst, accustomed to her every mood after so much time working so closely together. He pushed a box of tissues across the desk, and she put the cup down, drying herself off. A splodge of brown coffee was spreading across the label on the file, and she dabbed at it ineffectually, only to see the stain spread across the name typed across the white surface. His name was tainted now, different, and there was no one to blame but herself.

      ‘Is that all?’ she asked, wishing the conversation away in her head. Trevor nodded, his face implying that he wanted to say more, but thankfully he kept silent and Kate left the room. Rounding the corner, she gripped the file tight to her chest, leaning against the wall for support. She could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, and her head swam. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Pull it together Kate, stop it. Get through the day, just get through the day. She repeated her new mantra aloud, over and over, till the pulsing subsided and she trusted herself to move. She heard a noise and opened her eyes, looking down the corridor, hoping that no one saw the mad woman talking to herself and hugging the wall. No such luck. A nurse was walking down the corridor trundling a suitcase along with her, a man in a wheelchair just behind. He wasn’t moving though, and her breath caught in her throat when she looked closer. The man had stopped his chair in the corridor, and was looking straight at her, a mixture of disdain and disbelief in his features. Kate didn’t linger on his tight lips or his furrowed brow though; she had been taken hostage by his eyes. His big, green eyes, that were staring right back at her. One look into them, and she knew he had just witnessed her meltdown. She was grateful when the nurse addressed her. Nodding hello, she looked back at him, and he was still staring back at her. Looking away quickly, she turned on her heel and strode off down the corridor to her office.

       Cooper

      So, it was true. Someone up there really was having a laugh. I was dreading coming to this hippy hellhole as it was, but now I had the woman who sawed my leg off to look at every day. Just what every washed-up cripple needs. I wheeled myself after the nurse, who was waddling down the corridor at a leisurely pace to my new room. Opening the double doors on the corridor, she pointed at a button on the wall. ‘All the doors are opened by button entry, so no problem moving around the facility, and there is a call button in your room.’

      I nodded once, glaring at the button as we passed through. Pressing a button like a child, whenever I needed help or simply wanted to open a door. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. The nurse, a sour looking rotund woman with ‘Yvonne’ sewn onto the lapel of her uniform glanced back at me, stopping outside a room labelled ‘room 15’. She pressed the button and walked through to the room, eyeing for me to follow. Once inside, she walked over to the curtains, opening them and cracking a window. Dust motes danced in the sunshine that fell onto the tiled floor and I squinted at the sudden change in light. ‘You should have left them closed,’ I growled, my short temper evident in my voice.