Chapter Text
Group chat: Kev&Paul&Serena
Serena Campbell: Boys! Cancel whatever plans you had for Friday. Takeaway, wine and gossip at my house. Trust me, you’ll love it!
Kevin Barker: You can’t just hint at juicy gossip and give no clues, Campbell!
Paul Michaels: What he said. You can’t keep us hanging until Friday.
Serena Campbell: All I’ll say is that I now know Bernie from massage class is neither a private investigator nor a spy. More info will be provided on Friday, upon the receipt of a decent bottle of Shiraz.
Kevin Barker: *gasp* We’re in!
Paul Michaels: I can’t wait!
Friday evening saw Kev and Paul on Serena’s doorstep at 7.30 sharp, each clutching a pair of bottles of Shiraz. They were taking no chances that there wouldn’t be enough wine to keep the gossip flowing. They needn’t have worried though, Serena was absolutely dying to fill them in on everything she had learned that week about the massage class mystery woman.
“A world-renowned trauma surgeon I can picture, I suppose. But a Major in the Army? She seemed so shy in class, Serena. I can’t picture her in camouflage, barking orders!” Kev shook his head.
“Oh, I can!” Serena replied, with a slightly dreamy look in her eye.
“Serena Campbell! Do you have the hots for our PI slash Spy slash Army Major slash trauma surgeon? I didn’t even know you batted for both sides!” Paul almost spilt his wine, he was so excited about this new revelation.
“Well, I may have dipped a toe in sapphic waters in the past. There was a woman in Stepney I had something of a post-divorce fling with, many years ago.”
Paul and Kev both leant forward, eager to find out some more about their friend’s romantic past.
“Just how serious was the fling? I cannot believe you didn’t mention before that you’re bi, Serena!” Kev shook his head in mock reproof. “Oh my goodness, we have to start getting you involved in the local LGBTQ+ society. This is so exciting.”
“Let’s not get too carried away Kev. I have enough on my plate, without joining societies. Besides, I don’t generally feel the need to actually label myself, but I can’t deny that Berenice Wolfe is pressing my buttons.” Serena toyed with the stem of her wine glass as she pictured Bernie in Army uniform. And not for the first time.
“She’s already been pressing your button? Oh my.” Paul said, with an exaggerated, sly wink.
“Hey, minds out of the gutter please gentlemen. I don’t even know yet if your gaydar is correctly tuned where Bernie is concerned. I do know she’s divorced, with two grown up children. She doesn’t talk about herself much, particularly where her personal life is concerned. She is an absolutely amazing surgeon. It’s like a switch is flipped as soon as there’s a trauma patient in front of her. Quiet, shy Bernie vanishes and Major Wolfe appears.”
“Serena Campbell, you really are smitten aren’t you? Are we going to hear tales of you sneaking off to the supply cupboard for a bit of secret sapphic slap and tickle?”
Serena reached across the table and swatted Kevin’s arm. “You will not! I don’t believe in workplace dalliances, thank you very much. It’s bad enough when the nurses and the F1s get found in compromising positions on hospital premises. Could you imagine how fast the rumour mill would be spinning if I got caught in flagrante? And with a woman no less?” she shook her head dismissively.
“I can’t wait until the new classes start up and I get to meet the mysterious Major Wolfe. Are we going to swap partners over the weeks, by the way? Or will you want to keep the lovely Bernie all to yourself, Serena?” Paul gave her a sly grin.
“Well, there’s a chance you’ll be snagged by the inimitable Dusty Foulds at least one week Paul, assuming she’s signed up for the new classes. Unless there are enough new women for her to try and set Neville up with, of course. Actually Serena, I’m quite surprised she didn’t collar you. Serena? Earth to Serena!” Kev waved a hand in front of Serena’s face, as she was clearly miles away.
“What? Oh sorry, I was just thinking about something Bernie said to me during the last week of class. She mentioned Dusty had tried to set her up with Neville but said that he wouldn’t be her type. Something like that anyway. How would she know, having never met him?”
Kev tapped the side of his nose in a knowing fashion, “The gaydar rarely fails me Serena, I told you. I bet you’re far more her type than Neville the accountant.”
“Look, if you’re getting nowhere at work with finding out more about the elusive Bernie, why not see if you can persuade her to come to our next booze and takeaway evening? You can sell it to her as a good way for her to become better acquainted with a couple of her fellow classmates before it all kicks off again in a couple of weeks.” Paul suggested.
“Good idea!” enthused Kev, “We can ply her with drink to lower the inhibitions, then swoop in and prise some information out of her. Hopefully, we can at least find out which team she plays on, for Serena’s sake.”
Kev gave Serena a sly grin. She maturely poked her tongue out in response.
“It actually isn’t a bad thought, I will admit. The dinner invitation part, at least. I’ll see what I can do on Monday. I do know that so far she has resisted a couple of different invitations to go over to Albie’s for welcome drinks. Maybe she’ll be more receptive to a small, informal dinner for four. I do like the idea of persuading her under the guise of meeting you two before classes begin.”
At that, she emptied the remainder of the third bottle into their glasses and reached for the last of the quartet of bottles that the boys had brought along.
“No more for me thanks, Serena. I’m on duty at 9 am tomorrow, and I’d rather not show myself up to the lower ranks by turning up hungover and stinking of booze. I’d better switch to water once I finish this.” Paul was a detective inspector in CID at a police station not too far from the hospital.
“Ugh, I suppose I should do the sensible thing too. I have a ton of marking to wade through. It’s bad enough trying to decipher essays on the kids’ opinions of the themes of masculinity and femininity in Macbeth when stone cold sober.” Kevin grimaced and rolled his eyes at the prospect of the stack of poorly scrawled papers sitting on the desk at home.
Serena sighed and moved the unopened bottle away.
“Well if you’re both going to behave yourselves, I suppose I had better follow suit. Actually, although I’m not scheduled to work tomorrow, I do have some reports to finish off for Hanssen. A certain new colleague of mine is on shift, and I could take the opportunity to issue the dinner invitation. Does next Friday suit you both, if I’m successful?”
Paul checked his diary, and it was decided that as he had a rare full weekend off, Bernie could be given the choice of either the Friday or the Saturday, thus giving her less excuse to say no.
They all clinked glasses, and toasted the prospect of getting to know a bit more about Major Berenice Wolfe.