by Barbara Hart
She got up from the bed and went in search of the rest of her clothes and her handbag. She dressed hurriedly and, hearing the sound of his voice coming from behind a closed door, let herself out of his house and walked a short distance until she could hail a taxi.
On the way back to the hospital she reflected on her romantic liaisons with Andrew and how they always seemed to end disastrously. She was furious—furious with him and even more furious with herself for getting taken in by him, not once but twice! What a fool she was!
She arrived back at the hospital in time for the last waltz. Patrick spied her walking in and came rushing across, a guilty look on his face.
‘I hope you didn’t go off in a huff because I was talking to that theatre sister,’ he said. ‘It was nothing serious, just a bit of banter.’
I’m a fine one to criticise anyone tonight, thought Helen, and she smiled at him generously.
‘I didn’t leave in a huff and it wasn’t because of that,’ she said. Taking him by the hand, she led him onto the dance floor. ‘Let’s have the last waltz. It’s easy—just count one, two, three.’
‘I think even I can manage that,’ replied Patrick, relieved that Helen didn’t seem put out by his little flirtation with Margie.
By her next working day at the hospital, Helen had already begun to question her own actions in relation to Andrew. Had she acted hastily on the night of the dance? Had she jumped to the wrong conclusions? After all, the phone call from Chicago could have been perfectly innocent. Perhaps she’d read too much into the fact that he’d chosen to take the call out of her hearing. It might have been a patient phoning him or, indeed, there could have been many explanations other than the one she’d chosen to believe.
She was also having serious doubts about whether she should remain engaged to Patrick. It didn’t bode well for the marriage when she had been so willing to go off with another man and had almost ended up in bed with him. She also couldn’t forget that Andrew, albeit in the heat of passion, had said that he loved her. Maybe he was genuine…maybe she should give him another chance.
At lunchtime she walked over to Orthopaedics. She was disappointed to find Andrew’s room empty.
‘Has Dr Henderson gone for lunch, do you know?’ she asked the nurse on duty.
‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘He just popped out to see a patient on the ward. He’s having lunch in his office, he said, so that he can catch up on his paperwork.’
‘In that case, I’ll wait in his room,’ said Helen. She sat in one of his patients’ chairs and idly began leafing through a medical magazine that was lying on his desk. She noticed that underneath the magazine there were several photographs.
She picked them up and saw they were all of the same person—a very glamorous blonde woman in Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless top. The background was a golf course and the pictures showed the woman in various golfing poses. She turned over the pictures to see if there was some indication of who it was. On the back of one of the photographs were the words, ‘To Andrew from Lori—Happy Memories of Chicago!’
Helen looked at the pictures again, scrutinising them more closely.
So this was Lori from Chicago, was it? A very tasty piece of work with a golden tan, peroxided hair and a shapely figure.
So much for him saying that he loved her, when all along he was still in a relationship with a busty blonde from Chicago!
She tossed the pictures back on his desk in disgust and rose to leave. At that moment Andrew walked into the room. He was carrying a pack of sandwiches and a bottle of fruit juice.
‘Stay for lunch, share my sandwiches?’
‘No, thanks,’ said Helen. ‘I’m just leaving.’
He looked crestfallen. ‘I’m sorry about the phone call and fully understand why you had to get back to the dance, but—’
‘I fully understand, too,’ she said, turning her back on him and walking to the door.
‘Come out with me tonight for dinner,’ he said to her retreating back. ‘Will you do that?’
‘No.’ Her eyes blazed.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t trust you. And I don’t trust myself when I’m with you.’
As he watched her walk out of his room, he had no idea what he’d done to upset her so much. He decided to cool it, to leave her be for a while. Even though she appeared determined to marry Patrick, she could never change the fact that he, Andrew Henderson, was the father of her child and, because of that, he would always be around. And, whether she trusted him or not, she’d just have to get used to it.
CHAPTER NINE
HELEN was on the afternoon shift at the open access unit.
In between seeing patients, she was chatting with one of the older nurses about Robert and the progress he’d made in just a few short months.
‘Before you know it,’ said the nurse, ‘you’ll be packing his cases and waving him off to college!’
‘That seems a long way off!’ Helen laughed. ‘And I’m not sure if I want it to come too soon. I’m really enjoying his baby years—’
She was interrupted by her bleeper. She picked up the nearest telephone and gave her name.
‘Yes, Dr Blackburn,’ said the girl on the switchboard, ‘there’s a message for you from your mother. Can you phone home?’
Helen felt her heart miss a beat. ‘Oh, I do hope nothing’s happened to Robert!’
The switchboard operator wasn’t able to give Helen any more details, apart from the fact that she needed to phone home.
Her hands were shaking as she dialled the number. Her mother answered straight away.
‘Mum, it’s me. Is everything OK with the baby?’
‘Robert’s fine,’ said her mother. ‘It’s Jack. He’s been injured on the golf course.’
‘How?’
‘I’m not sure,’ replied her mother. Her voice was anxious. ‘They phoned me from the golf club to say he was being taken by ambulance to Milchester General. Can you find out what’s happening? I must stay here with Robert, but as you’re at the hospital anyway…’
‘Yes, Mum,’ said Helen, ‘I’ll check with A and E and go down and see him when he arrives. I’ll phone you back and let you know what’s happening.’
‘Thanks, love.’
Helen told the desk nurse that the other two doctors in the open access unit would cover for her while she went down to find out about her stepfather.
Twenty minutes later, Helen phoned her mother to reassure her.
‘He’s OK,’ she told Dorothy. ‘He’s had some sort of injury to his knee. He said it happened when he was in a bunker. He’s very cross with himself because up to that moment he was winning hands down. He’s had an X-ray and I’ll let you know what we decide to do when we’ve had a look at it.’
‘We?’ queried her mother. ‘Does that mean you’ll be involved?’
‘Partly,’ said Helen. ‘It looks as if it could be an orthopaedic injury but, of course, I won’t be treating him personally, being a relative.’
‘So who will treat him—Andrew Henderson? Is that what you’re saying? You know I don’t approve of that man because of the way he’s behaved towards you.’
‘If necessary,’ said Helen. ‘Look, Mum, if Jack has to be seen by Andrew, well, he couldn’t be in better hands. If it is a knee injury, which I suspect it is, Andrew is the best person to deal with it.’
There was silence at the other end of the phone.
‘You want Jack to have the best treatment, don’t you?’ said Helen.
‘Of course.’
Helen replaced the receiver and went to find the emergency doctor in charge of Jack’s case. So far she’d been able to keep her involvement on a purely professional level, agreeing with the A and E doctor that Jack should be seen by Dr Henderson if the X-ray confirmed her diagnosis. Relaying this information to her mother had been a little more difficult as she knew how hostile Dorothy was to the man who had, in her opinion, ‘seduced and abandoned’ her daughter.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Talbot,’ said Andrew as he entered the screened-off cubicle in A and E. He gave Helen a perfunctory nod. ‘Afternoon, Dr Blackburn. And Dr Khan isn’t it?’
The slim, young female SHO smiled back at him. ‘Yes, Dr Henderson. I’ll just take you through what’s happened so far with Mr Talbot.’
Dr Khan outlined a brief history of the injury, how it had happened and the procedures and tests they’d done so far.
‘The X-ray is up on the light-box,’ she said. ‘As far as we can see—that is, Dr Blackburn and myself—there appear to be no broken bones or dislocation.’
Andrew walked over to the light-box and studied the X-ray film.
‘I think you’re right, Dr Khan,’ he said, pointedly addressing his remarks to the young doctor. ‘Nothing appears to be broken or dislocated. We’ll just take a look at the knee itself and make an assessment.’
He washed his hands and went over to the examination couch where Jack was lying.
‘Mr Talbot, I’m going to examine your knee. I’ll be as gentle as I can but you may experience a little discomfort as I feel around the joint.’
His fingers probed gently around the area above and below the knee joint, working his way to the knee itself. Once or twice Jack winced and said, ‘Ouch.’
‘Do you have any history of osteoarthritis or rheumatoid arthritis?’ Andrew asked.
‘No,’ said Jack. ‘In fact, I’ve never had any problem with my knees before. I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be looking at trouble in the future.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Andrew reassured him. ‘You’ve just damaged one of the ligaments that support the knee. After a period of rest it should return to normal.’
Jack looked relieved. ‘I don’t have to give up golf? I was dreading you saying that.’
‘Stay off the golf course until this has healed, but after that no problem. Just avoid making any rapid twisting movements. What we’re going to do now,’ said Andrew, ‘is to immobilise your knee for a few days and then start you on a programme of physiotherapy to strengthen the quadriceps muscle—that’s the main muscle at the front of the thigh—in order to restore the blood supply to the ligament and to help it to heal.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jack.
‘Is it still painful?’ Andrew asked.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Jack.
‘In that case,’ said Andrew, ‘we’ll write you a prescription for something to ease it…and I suggest that Dr Khan gives you a painkilling injection just to see you through the immediate period. The tablets can be used after that. The injury will soon settle down once the knee is properly immobilised.’
Andrew handed Jack the prescription. ‘I’ve made a note on your file for you to come and see me at my clinic in a week’s time to check on your progress. Of course, in the meantime, if you have any problems you’re in the very fortunate situation of having the expertise of Dr Blackburn on hand.’ He glanced fleetingly at Helen before leaving the cubicle.
Jack and Helen exchanged looks but didn’t say anything in front of Dr Khan. But when they were alone he said to her, ‘Don’t you find it awkward, working with that man? That Andrew?’
Helen shrugged. ‘We’re both professionals and we just get on with our jobs. Anyway, his contract at this hospital will be soon coming to an end.’
As she walked back to the open access unit Helen experienced a great wave of emotion flooding over her.
It happened every time she saw Andrew, and today was no exception. Every time she saw him she longed to touch him, to be held by him, to lose herself in his embrace. And even though she kept telling herself that it was no use, that Andrew wasn’t the kind of man to commit himself to any woman on a long-term basis, she still couldn’t stop herself yearning for him, wanting him more than ever.
That evening, after she’d bathed Robert and put him to bed, Helen sat alone in her room, miserable and depressed. At the hospital she’d been dismissive to Jack when he’d suggested there might be a problem working in the same environment as Andrew. The truth was that it bothered her much more than she cared to admit.
The phone rang and her mother answered it. A moment later she called up to her, ‘Helen, it’s for you. Jane, from Iowa.’
Helen’s spirits lifted at the thought of speaking to her friend.
‘Hi, Jane,’ she said, picking up the extension. ‘Nice to hear from you.’
‘I’ve a small piece of news for you that may or may not mean anything,’ said Jane mysteriously. ‘It’s about Andrew. By the way, does he know about the baby?’
‘Yes, I told him,’ said Helen.
‘So, is everything hunky-dory between you two?’
‘No.’ She spoke the word with sharp vehemence.
‘I thought that maybe once Andrew knew he was a father, that would change his attitude and settle him down.’
‘Far from it,’ said Helen. ‘He’s still just as uncommitted as ever. And I’m sure he has a woman in Chicago.’
‘Now that you mention Chicago, that’s why I’m phoning,’ said Jane. ‘You know how we couldn’t work out the mystery behind his disappearing like that? Well, I came across a small item in an American medical journal. I’ll read it to you. “The Chicago branch of the office of professional misconduct announced that Dr Andrew Henderson has won the mal practice suit that was filed against him and the Chicago City Orthopaedic Hospital.”’
‘What?’ said Helen. ‘What’s all that about?’
‘I don’t really know,’ said Jane, ‘But it seems to me that the reason Andrew went away to Chicago last year was to defend some sort of medical negligence case.’
‘Is there any more information in that journal?’
‘Afraid not,’ said Jane. ‘It’s on a page full of small reports of a similar nature about doctors being struck off or winning law suits…all that kind of thing. I just thought you should know because it might explain why he acted so mysteriously about Chicago.’
‘But why couldn’t he tell me?’ said Helen. ‘Didn’t he trust me enough?’
‘I guess when you’ve got a malpractice suit hanging over you, you want to keep it as quiet as possible,’ suggested Jane. ‘I mean, what if he’d lost it? His career would have been in big trouble. Maybe he didn’t want to risk you being dragged down with him.’
What Jane had said made Helen thoughtful. ‘Do you think you could find out more about this malpractice thing? It could explain an awful lot.’
‘I’ve a better idea,’ said Jane. ‘Why don’t you just go on over to him and ask him yourself? He might take you out for a celebration, and who knows where that might lead? He could turn out to be Mr Commitment after all!’
‘I doubt it.’ Helen wasn’t convinced.
She was very tempted to drive to his house and confront him on the doorstep and demand to know why he hadn’t told her about his ‘secret’ malpractice suit.
But the more she thought about it, the more she realised that she needed to be calm when she faced him. After all, there could still be a woman in Chicago with whom he was maintaining an ongoing relationship—the glamorous golfing Lori, perhaps?
It was three days before she saw Andrew again. She’d called into the Orthopaedics department earlier in the week but had been told that he was taking a couple of days’ leave.
She saw him in the staff canteen on the day he was due back and took her lunch-tray over to his table.
‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.
He seemed surprised to see her. ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘I got the impression you were avoiding all unnecessary contact with me.’
She sat down opposite him. She decided to ignore his last remark.
‘I heard from Jane Howorth a few days ago. She telephoned from America,’ she said, unwrapping the Cellophane from her pre-packed sandwich. She read something out to me from an American medical journal. It was about you.’
Andrew raised a quizzical eyebrow while remaining silent.
‘The item said that you’d won a medical negligence case,’ said Helen.
Andrew turned to look away briefly, then faced her again.
‘Yes, that right,’ he said.
‘But you never told me!’ Helen’s voice had taken on an accusing tone that she hadn’t intended. ‘I mean, didn’t you think I’d be interested to know?’ She smiled encouragingly at him. ‘Do you want to talk about it now?’
‘Sure,’ he said, his voice giving nothing away. ‘I’ll tell you about it if that’s what you want.’
‘It’s not a secret, is it? I mean, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have told me?’ She corrected herself so as not to seem too critical. ‘I mean, is there a reason why you shouldn’t tell me about it?’
Deep down she was angry with him for having kept back what must have been a very important piece of information about himself and not sharing it with her. But right now she didn’t want to antagonise him in case he clammed up.
‘It’s not a secret,’ he said. ‘Not any more.’
‘Not any more? But once it was?’
‘Yes.’ He drank his coffee. ‘I wanted to tell you about it as soon as I found you over here, but events took over. The moment never seemed right.’
His bleeper went off. He laughed ruefully. ‘The moment’s never right for us, is it?’ As he rose from the table he registered the disappointment in her face. It gave him hope, hope that she might still care a little for him even though she was planning to marry another man.
‘I’ll tell you later about the malpractice suit,’ he said. ‘How about that dinner I keep asking you to?’
‘When?’
‘Tonight?’
She nodded.
‘Pick you up at eight,’ he said, and walked out of the canteen.
She was on the phone to her mother within minutes. ‘Can you babysit for me tonight, Mum?’ she asked.
‘Of course I can, love,’ said her mother. ‘Are you going out with Patrick?’