St Piran's: The Wedding of The Year / St Piran's: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella

by Caroline Anderson / Carol Marinelli

  ‘Diego’s the neonatal…’ Beth paused. ‘What is your title, Diego?’

  ‘They are still deciding! Sorry…’ Dark brown eyes met Izzy’s and amidst controlled chaos he squeezed in a smile. ‘I should have introduced myself. I’m Nurse Manager on the neonatal unit.’

  ‘I guessed you weren’t a passing relative,’ Izzy said, but he wasn’t listening, his concentration back on the baby. He was breathing, but his chest was working hard, bubbles at his nose and lips, and his nostrils were flaring as he struggled to drag in oxygen.

  ‘We need his history,’ Diego said as he proceeded to bag the baby, helping him to breathe. He was skilled and deft and even though the team was just starting to arrive he already had this particular scene under control. ‘You’re late.’ Diego managed dry humour as the anaesthetist rushed in along with the on-call obstetrician and then Izzy’s colleague and friend Megan.

  Her fragile looks defied her status. Megan was a paediatric registrar and was the jewel in the paediatric team—fighting for her charges’ lives, completely devoted to her profession. Her gentle demeanour defied her steely determination when a life hung in the balance.

  Megan would, Izzy knew, give the baby every benefit of every doubt.

  ‘Ring NICU.’ This was Diego, giving orders, even though it wasn’t his domain. They urgently needed more equipment. Even the tiniest ET tube was proving too big for this babe and feeling just a touch superfluous as Megan and Diego worked on, it was Izzy who made the call to the neonatal intensive care unit, holding the phone to Diego’s ear as he rapidly delivered his orders.

  Though Megan’s long brown hair was tied back, the run from the children’s ward had caused a lock to come loose and she gave a soft curse as she tried to concentrate on getting an umbilical line into the baby.

  ‘Here,’ Izzy said, and sorted out her friend’s hair.

  ‘About twenty-three weeks, Megan.’ Diego said it as a warning as the baby’s heart rate dipped ominously low, but his warning was vital.

  ‘We don’t know anything for sure!’ Megan words were almost chanted as she shot a warning at Diego. ‘I’ll do a proper maturation assessment once he’s more stable. Izzy, can you start compressions while I get this line in?’

  Diego was pulling up the minuscule drug dosages; the anaesthetist taking over in helping the tiny baby to breathe. The baby was so small Izzy compressed the chest rapidly with two fingers, hearing the rapid rhythm on the monitor.

  ‘Nice work.’ Megan was always encouraging. The umbilical line in, she took the drugs from Diego and shot them into the little body as Izzy carried on with compressions for another full minute.

  ‘Let’s see what we’ve got.’ Megan put a hand up to halt Izzy and the babe’s heart rate was up now close to a hundred. There were more staff arriving and a large incubator had arrived from the neonatal unit along with more specialised equipment, but until the baby was more stable it wouldn’t be moved up to the first-floor NICU. ‘We’re going to be here for a while.’ Megan gave Izzy a grim smile. ‘Sorry to take up all your space.’

  ‘Go right ahead,’ Izzy said.

  ‘How are things?’ an unfamiliar face came in. ‘Ben asked me check in—I’m Josh, A and E consultant.’ She’d heard there was a new consultant, that he was Irish and women everywhere were swooning, but no one was swooning here! Izzy couldn’t really explain it, but suddenly the mood in the room changed. Izzy wondered if perhaps if Josh’s popularity had plummeted, because there was certainly a chill in the air.

  ‘It’s all under control.’ It was Izzy who broke the strange silence. ‘Though the babe might be here for a while.’

  ‘How many weeks?’ Josh’s voice was gruff, his navy eyes narrowing as he looked down at the tiny infant.

  ‘We’re not sure yet,’ Megan responded. ‘Mum was in Ultrasound when she went into labour.’

  ‘We need to find out.’ Josh’s was the voice of reason. Before there were any more heroics, some vital facts needed to be established. ‘Do you want me to speak with Mum?’

  ‘I’ll be the one who speaks with the mother.’ Megan’s voice was pure ice. ‘But right now I’m a bit tied up.’

  ‘There’s a full resuscitation taking place in my department on a baby that may not be viable—we need to find out what the mother wants.’

  Megan looked up and Izzy was shocked at the blaze of challenge in them. ‘It’s not like it was eight years ago. We don’t wrap them in a blanket now and say we can’t do anything for them.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what!’ A thick Spanish accent waded into the tense debate and abruptly resolved it. ‘While you two sort out your own agenda, why don’t you…’ he looked over at Izzy ‘…go and speak with the mother? You have already met her, after all. See if you can clarify the dates a bit better—let her know just how ill the baby is and find out if someone can pull up her ultrasound images.’

  ‘Sure!’

  She was more than grateful for Diego’s presence, and not just for the baby—Izzy hadn’t known what was happening in there. She’d never seen Megan like that! Her response had been a blatant snub to Josh’s offer to speak with the mother, but Izzy didn’t have time to dwell on it—instead she had a most difficult conversation in front of her.

  ‘I don’t know…’ Nicola sobbed as Izzy gently questioned her. ‘My periods are so irregular and it’s my fourth baby, I was breast feeding…’

  ‘The doctors will go through your scans and assess your baby and try to get the closest date we can,’ Izzy said gently, ‘but I have to tell you that things aren’t looking very good for your son.’ Izzy suddenly felt guilty talking about this to the mother when she was pregnant herself, and was incredibly grateful when Diego came into the cubicle. He gave her a thin smile and, because he would be more than used to this type of conversation, Izzy allowed him to take over.

  ‘Another one of my staff is in with your baby,’ he said, having introduced himself to the mother, and did what Megan had insisted Josh didn’t. Izzy felt the sting of tears in her eyes as very skilfully, very gently Diego talked Nicola through all that had happened, all that was now taking place and all that could lie ahead if her baby were to survive.

  ‘Right now,’ Diego said, ‘we are doing everything we can to save your baby, but he is in a very fragile state. Nicola. Do you understand what I said to you about the risks, about the health problems your baby might face if he does survive?’

  ‘Do everything you can.’

  ‘We will,’ Diego said. ‘Megan, the paediatrician, will come in and speak at more length with you, but right now she needs to be in with your son.’ He was very kind, but also very firm. ‘We’re going to be moving him up to the NICU shortly, but why don’t I get you a wheelchair and we can take you in to see him before we head off?’

  To Izzy it was too soon, Resus was still a hive of activity, but she also knew that Diego was right, that maybe Nicola needed to see for herself the lengths to which they were going to save the baby and also that, realistically, this might be Nicola’s only chance to see her son alive.

  She didn’t get to hold him, but Diego did ask for a camera and took some pictures of Nicola next to her son, and some close-up shots of the baby. And then it was time for him to be moved.

  ‘Nice work,’ he said to Izzy as his team moved off with its precious cargo, Diego choosing to stay behind. ‘Thank you for everything, and sorry to leave so much mess. I’m going to have a quick run-through of your equipment, if that’s okay. There are a few things you ought to order.’

  ‘That would be great,’ Izzy said. ‘And thank you. You’ve been marvellous!’

  ‘Marvellous!’ He repeated the word as if were the first time he’d heard it and grinned, his teeth were so white, so perfect. If the rest of him hadn’t been so divine, she’d have sworn they were capped. ‘You were marvellous too!’ Then his eyes narrowed in closer assessment. ‘You’re new?’ Diego checked, because even though he was rarely in Emergency he was quite sure that he’d have noti
ced her around the hospital.

  ‘No. I’ve worked here for ages. I’ve been on…’ She didn’t really know what to say so she settled for a very simple version. ‘Extended leave.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘You’re the one who’s new.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ He raised the most perfectly shaped eyebrow, and if eyes could smile, his were. ‘I might have been here for years. Perhaps I did my training here…’ He was teasing her, with a question she was less prepared to deal with than a premature birth. ‘Why do you think I’m new?’

  Because I’d have noticed you.

  That was the answer and they both knew it.

  Now there was no baby, now there was no emergency to deal with, now it was just the two of them, Izzy, for the first time in, well, the longest time, looked at a man.

  Not saw.

  Looked.

  And as she did so, the strangest thing happened—the four months of endless chatter in her head was silenced. For a delicious moment the fear abated and all she was was a woman.

  A woman whose eyes lingered for a fraction too long on a beautiful man.

  His hair had dried now and she noticed it was long enough to be sexy and short enough to scrape in as smart. He was a smudge unshaven, but Izzy guessed that even if he met a razor each morning, that shadow would be back in time for lunch. Even in jeans and a T-shirt, even without the olive skin and deep accent, there was a dash of the European about him—his black jeans just a touch tighter, his T-shirt from no high street store that Izzy frequented. He was professional and he was well groomed, but there was a breath of danger about him, a dizzy, musky air that brought Izzy back to a woman she had once known.

  ‘Well,’ he said when the silence had gone on too long, ‘it’s nice to stand here chatting, but I have to get back.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘A porter took my bag. Do you know where I can find him?’

  ‘Your bag?’ Izzy blinked, because it was the sort of thing she would say, but rather than work that one out, she went and called the porter over the Tannoy.

  ‘Come up and see him later,’ Diego suggested.

  ‘I will,’ Izzy said, consoling herself that he would have extended that invitation to any doctor, that the invitation wasn’t actually for her, that it had nothing to do with him.

  Except Diego corrected her racing thoughts.

  ‘I’m on till ten.’

  What on earth was that?

  She’d never been on a horse, yet she felt as if she’d just been galloping at breakneck speed along the beach. Izzy headed for the staffroom, in need of a cool drink of water before she tackled the next patient, wanting to get her scrambled brain into some sort of order after the adrenaline rush of earlier.

  A premature delivery would do that to anyone, Izzy told herself as she grabbed a cup. Except, as a large lazy bubble in the water cooler rose and popped to the surface, she felt as if she were seeing her insides spluttering into life after the longest sleep.

  She couldn’t have been flirting.

  She was in no position to be flirting.

  Except, Izzy knew, she had been.

  They had been.

  The lone figure in the staffroom caught her by surprise and Izzy had begun to back out when she saw who it was. Josh was sitting there, head in hands, his face grey, and Izzy was quite sure she was intruding.

  ‘Don’t go on my account,’ Josh said. ‘I was just heading back. How is she?’ he asked.

  ‘Upset,’ Izzy admitted. ‘I think she was only just getting used to the idea of being pregnant, but…’ Her voice trailed off, Josh nodded and stood up and walked out, but before that, even as she spoke, realisation dawned.

  Josh hadn’t been enquiring how the mother was.

  Instead he’d been asking about Megan.

  Chapter Three

  ‘ARE you sure you don’t want me to stay and help clear the board?’ Izzy checked as the clock edged towards ten.

  ‘Go home and get some well-earned rest,’ Ben said. ‘You haven’t had the easiest start back.’

  ‘And I thought you’d break me in gently.’

  ‘Not my style,’ Ben said. ‘You did great, Izzy. Mind you, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge!’

  The power dressing had lasted till about three p.m. when she had changed into more familiar scrubs, her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes and her mouth devoid of lipstick.

  It had been Chest Pain Central for the rest of the shift and apart from two minutes on the loo, Izzy had not sat down.

  ‘One day,’ Izzy said, ‘I’m going to manage to stay in my own clothes for an entire shift. I am!’ she insisted as Josh joined them. She’d had a good shift. Josh had been lovely—as sharp as a tack, he had been a pleasure to work with, his strong Irish brogue already familiar to Izzy.

  ‘It will never happen!’ Josh said. ‘I thought the same—that maybe when I made consultant…I had some nice suits made, didn’t I, Ben?’

  They had been friends for years, Izzy had found out, had both worked together in London, and as Izzy grinned and wished them both goodnight she was glad now about her decision to return to work.

  It was good to be back.

  The patients didn’t care about the doctor’s personal life, didn’t know the old Izzy, they just accepted her. Any doubts she might have had about the wisdom of coming back at such a fragile time emotionally had soon faded as she had immersed herself in the busy hub of Emergency, stretching her brain instead of being stuck in that awful loop of wandering around her home, thinking.

  It was only now, as she stepped out of her professional role, that the smile faded.

  She didn’t want to go home.

  She stared out past the ambulance bay to the staff car park and she felt a bubble of panic. She could call Security to escort her, of course. Given what had happened, who would blame her for not wanting to walk though the car park alone.

  It wasn’t even dark. It was one of those lovely summer nights in St Piran when the sky never became fully black.

  It wasn’t just the car park she was afraid of, though, she decided as she turned and headed up the corridor to the stairwell.

  She just wasn’t ready to go home.

  Her fingers hovered over the NICU intercom, wondering what exactly she was doing. Usually she wouldn’t have thought twice about this. The old Izzy had often popped up to the wards to check on cases she had seen in Emergency, but her pregnant status made it seem more personal somehow and it wasn’t just the baby she had delivered that had drawn her there tonight. Still, despite more than a passing thought about him now as she neared his territory, it wasn’t just Diego pulling her there either—it was after ten, the late staff would long since have gone.

  There was a very private answer she was seeking tonight.

  It was more personal because she was pregnant, Izzy admitted to herself. She wasn’t just here to see how the baby was doing, rather to see her reaction to it, to see if the little scrap she had delivered that morning might somehow evoke in her some feeling for the babe she was carrying.

  She was being ridiculous, Izzy told herself, as if a trip to the NICU would put her mind at ease.

  Turning on her heel, Izzy decided against visiting.

  She’d ring the NICU tomorrow and find out how he was doing.

  ‘Hey!’ Having made up her mind and turned go, Izzy jumped slightly as the doors opened and she was greeted by the sound of Diego’s voice.

  Even before she turned and saw him, even though it was just one syllable he’d uttered, she knew that it was him and she felt her cheeks colour up, wondering what reason she could give as to why she was there.

  ‘You’re here to see your delivery?’ He wasn’t really looking at her; instead he was turning on his phone and checking the messages that pinged in.

  ‘If that’s okay…’ She was incredibly nervous around him, flustered even, her words coming out too fast as she offered too much of an explanation. ‘I often chase up interesting
cases. I know it’s a bit late, so I decided to ring tomorrow…’

  ‘Day and night are much the same in there,’ he said. ‘It won’t be a problem.’

  ‘I’ll just ring tomorrow. I’m sure they’re busy’

  She’d changed her mind before she’d seen him, yet Diego wouldn’t hear it.

  ‘One moment,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you in. Let me just answer this.’

  She didn’t want him to take her in.

  She glanced at the ID badge he now had around his neck.

  Diego Ramirez was so not what she needed now.

  Still, he was too engrossed in his phone to read her body language, Izzy thought. His bag was a large brown leather satchel, which he wore over his shoulder, and on anyone else it would have looked, well, stupid, but it just set him aside from the others.

  God, what was it about him?

  Diego didn’t need to look at Izzy to read her. He could feel her tense energy, knew she was nervous, and he knew enough to know that a pregnant woman who had delivered a prem baby would, perhaps, have a few questions or need a little reassurance.

  Any of his staff could provide that, Diego said to himself as he checked his message from Sally.

  The term ‘girlfriend’ for Sally, would be stretching it, but she was gorgeous and she was sitting outside his flat in a car right this minute, texting to see when he’d be home.

  He loved women.

  He loved curves on women.

  He loved confident women

  He loved lots of uninhibited, straightforward sex—and it was right there waiting at his door.

  Busy at work—txt u tomoz x

  Not regretfully enough he hit ‘send’, but he did wonder what on earth he was doing. Why, instead of heading for home, he was swiping his ID card to gain entry into the area and walking this slinky-malinky long-legs, who was as jumpy as a cat, through his unit?

  ‘Wash your hands,’ Diego prompted, following his own instructions and soaping up his hands and rather large forearms for an inordinate amount of time. ‘It is a strict rule here,’ he explained, ‘and one I enforce, no matter the urgency. And,’ he chided as Izzy turned off the handle with her elbow, ‘I also ask that staff take an extra moment more than is deemed necessary.’