A Wife and Child to Cherish (Audley Memorial Hospital)

by Caroline Anderson

‘Oh, Annie! I’ll bring them into work tomorrow.’

  ‘What, ready for next year?’ she said mockingly. ‘You know you’re the walker, not me.’

  ‘You ought to do more. It would do you good. And Katie loves it, don’t you, Katie?’

  Katie nodded her head, her mouth too busy with her banana to be able to speak, but her eyes said it all. She was having a fabulous day, and if only Annie wasn’t so busy all the time they could have been doing this sort of thing more often.

  Damn Colin...

  ‘Right, you guys, have you all finished? Alex, pick up the rubbish, please, and put it in that bin. Ben, can you get all the cups and put them in my rucksack? Make sure they’re empty.’ Annie pulled her socks up, eased her feet back into her trainers and tried not to wince. Damn. Her heels were going to break down before long, and she still had five miles to walk.

  It seemed insurmountable, and for a fleeting moment she felt the tears of pain and frustration welling up.

  But she was made of sterner stuff than that. She’d survived Colin. She could survive anything.

  She got up, dusted herself down and smiled at the children.

  ‘OK, guys?’

  ‘OK!’ they chorused, all of them the picture of happiness, and she couldn’t regret coming, even if it did mean she’d be hobbling for a week.

  They set off again along the broader path that ran through the nature reserve, and as she detoured to the bin to dispose of her sandwich wrapper, she bumped into Patrick.

  Literally, turning from the bin and colliding with his chest, so that her nose was against the soft cotton of his rugby shirt and she could smell soap and the warm, masculine scent of his skin.

  ‘Whoops. Careful.’ His hands came up and steadied her, his eyes with those sinfully dark lashes smiling down at her, and her heart did that silly flip-flop thing again before he let her go.

  He tossed his rubbish into the bin, and fell into step beside her as they rejoined her little group on the path. She thought he’d go then, wander back to the Whittakers, but he didn’t. He stayed with them, and the Whittakers drifted over, and they ended up walking together in a big group. Fliss and Sally got into conversation, Tom was talking to his oldest daughter, teasing her about something and making her laugh, the other children were tramping along through the autumn leaves ahead of them and kicking them up in the air, and that left Annie and Patrick bringing up the rear.

  It felt a little engineered, but she told herself not to be paranoid. It was probably just coincidence, but she wondered if he’d mind, if her earlier remark was still rankling, but he didn’t mention it and he was perfectly friendly, so she decided he’d got over it.

  ‘So what brings you to Suffolk?’ she asked. And then wondered why she couldn’t manage to steer clear of the personal questions for a single minute! But he didn’t seem to mind, and replied easily enough.

  ‘The job.’

  ‘No family connections?’

  He pulled a thoughtful face and shrugged. ‘Sort of, I suppose. Family history, really, rather than connections. My mother was born in Bury St Edmunds and my father studied medicine at Cambridge, and they’ve often talked about retiring to this part of the world. They haven’t done anything about it and they’re still happy in Sussex, but when the job came up and looked so interesting I thought I’d have a go. It’s a busy department, lots of joint work, and there should be enough trauma to keep the adrenaline pumping and the mind engaged. And when my parents get round to retiring, the fact that I’m already here might give them the incentive to move this way. If not, they can come and stay and visit relatives, so it works either way.’

  ‘For them, but what about you?’ she asked, again forgetting that she wasn’t going to be curious. ‘How do you feel about Suffolk?’

  He shrugged and gave a half-smile. ‘I don’t know enough about it yet to comment. It doesn’t make a lot of difference where I live, it’s the job that’s important and I wanted the job, regardless of where it is.’

  ‘So—no friends? No other ties?’ she asked, and then shook her head, reining herself in again. ‘I’m sorry. Forget I said that. It’s none of my business.’

  There was a beat of silence, then he said, ‘No, there are no other ties.’

  His voice had got that distant thing going again, and she wanted to kick herself. She would keep digging away, trying to get to know things about him, and it was really none of her business, as she’d said. Anyway, if she kept asking him things, there was a real chance he’d start asking her, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  So she shut up, and for a while they walked in silence, then the path narrowed and she moved ahead of him, horribly conscious of his eyes on her. What would he be thinking? Probably nothing. Probably what a busybody she was.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  She shot him a surprised look over her shoulder, and he pointed to her feet.

  ‘Oh. That. I’ll live.’

  ‘I wasn’t questioning that, but you’ve been limping for the last mile.’

  ‘I have not.’

  ‘I believe you have, you stubborn woman,’ he said mildly. ‘Let me look.’

  ‘No. I’m fine. Stop .fussing.’

  ‘I’m not fussing, I’m just concerned.’

  ‘Well, don’t be. I haven’t given you the right to be concerned.’

  ‘I didn’t know I needed to have rights to be concerned.’

  ‘Well, now you do, so back off. As I said, I’m fine.’

  ‘So what’s the blood on the back of your left sock?’ he asked, and she stopped and shut her eyes.

  Damn. She knew they’d got sore, but not that sore. Now she thought about it, though...

  His hand was firm but gentle on her shoulder, pressing her down until she sat on a fallen tree trunk by the side of the path. He faced her, hunkering down and easing off her shoes. For a moment he paused, studying them in silence, and she was getting all ready to comment if he dared to say anything about the state of them when he carefully, and very precisely, set them down and set about removing her socks, running long, strong fingers gently over the sensitive skin of her heels around the broken blisters. ‘Ouch. Got any plasters?’

  She shook her head and he was gone, returning a minute later with a couple of padded blister plasters. ‘You just have to know the right people,’ he said with a grin, and smoothed them in place, sending shivers up her legs.

  She pulled up her socks and slid her feet back into her trainers before he could touch them again and send her over the brink. ‘So who do I have to thank for the plasters?’ she said, trying for a smile.

  ‘Tom’s wife.’

  ‘Oh, Fliss. I might have known, she’s a star. She always thinks of everything. I should have asked her earlier.’

  ‘You should. Here,’ he said, holding out a hand and pulling her to her feet with a cautious smile. ‘OK now?’

  She nodded grudgingly. ‘Much better. Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure. Let me know if it all gets too much.’

  ‘What are you going to do? Carry me like some kind of knight in shining armour? Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘I’ve had worse ideas,’ he said. ‘But since I don’t have a horse to chuck you on, it would probably mean a piggy-back.’

  Her heart hiccuped at the thought. ‘You’re mad. I’m far too heavy.’

  He snorted rudely. ‘Rubbish. You weigh next to nothing.’

  ‘I’m five foot nine!’

  ‘And built like a stick insect,’ he retorted.

  She couldn’t argue. The truth of it was she was fading away. At the moment she could say her bone structure was architectural. It wouldn’t be long at this rate, though, before she looked downright gaunt. Still, the last week should replenish the coffers a bit when the payment went in, and she’d be able to afford to eat something decent then.

  ‘Just because I don’t look like a full-back,’ she muttered.

  ‘Second-row forward,’ he corrected with a grin, ‘and I agree, yo
u’re much prettier.’

  ‘Well, thank heavens for small mercies,’ she said, making note of the fact that he was obviously a rugby player, and he chuckled.

  ‘Come on, then, Twiggy, let’s hit the trail,’ he said with a teasing smile, and she turned her back on him and set off again, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not wimping out, because in point of fact there was nothing she’d like more than to be sitting on his back, with her legs wrapped round his waist and her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against those broad, strong shoulders—

  She stumbled over a root, and his hand came out instantly to steady her.

  ‘OK?’

  She nodded, sudden unexpected tears filling her eyes. So silly, but it had been such a long time since anyone had shown any concern for her.

  No. That wasn’t true. Sally was concerned, and Katie, and her parents were wonderful.

  A man, though. She couldn’t remember when a man had last done anything for her, even something as simple as steadying her arm or tending to her blisters, and now that Patrick had, it was threatening to reduce her to tears.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said softly—so softly that she hardly heard him, but she did, and his approval kept her going all the way back to the car park.

  She was turning to thank him and say goodbye when Katie came over, tired but still relentlessly cheerful, to show off her badge. ‘Look! Isn’t it cool? We all got one—oh, and Sally says would we like to go to supper? Please, say yes!’

  She looked up to meet Sally’s eyes, and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, I’m really bushed. I just want to go home and have a long, hot soak in the bath and put my feet up.’

  Most particularly the feet.

  ‘Oh, Mummy, please! They’re having a take-away!’

  ‘Why don’t I drop you home and take Katie on for supper and drop her back to you later? That way you both get to be happy.’

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ Annie said, catching her lip in her teeth and trying not to think about the take-away. She could always have beans on toast—if she had any beans...

  ‘Why don’t I give you a lift home to save Sally going out of her way? You live near me.’

  She turned to Patrick in surprise. ‘How do you know where I live?’ she asked.

  ‘I think one of the staff nurses mentioned it when I told her where I’m living. Don’t worry, it’s nothing sinister,’ he teased gently, and then, getting back to the point, he carried on, ‘Then Sally can bring Katie back later and you can have your soak in the bath.’

  ‘Sorted. Well done, Patrick. Come on, then, kids, let’s go and get pizza!’

  And before she could say a word, Sally had whisked the kids away and he was helping her into the passenger seat of a sleek, sexy BMW and she was being taken home in a style to which she could definitely become accustomed.

  Given the chance, which she wouldn’t be.

  She didn’t get involved with men. Once bitten, and all that, and there was no way this one was going to wheedle his way into her life. And if he thought she was inviting her in... ‘What are you doing about supper?’

  She turned to him in surprise. ‘Eating it in the bath,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘Want company? It’s just that I’m starving, and the Chinese round the corner opens in about half an hour.’

  ‘My bath’s not that big,’ she said drily, trying not to imagine the smell of a special chow mein, but he just laughed softly and shook his head.

  ‘Pity,’ he said under his breath, and she had the distinct feeling she hadn’t been meant to hear it. ‘So what’s it to be— Chinese take-away or beans on toast again?’

  ‘How did you know?’ she asked, and then could have kicked herself.

  His shoulders shifted a fraction. ‘Because you’ve been away, you got back late' last night, you said, and I don’t suppose you had time to go shopping this morning before you went on the walk. It therefore stands to reason you’re unlikely to have much in the house to eat.’

  ‘I don’t need your handouts,’ she said sharply—a little too sharply, if the frown that pleated his brow was anything to go by.

  ‘It’s hardly a handout,’ he said, the soft rebuke stinging for all that. ‘We’re talking about a set meal for two and a packet of prawn crackers—and if we really push the boat out, I could pick up a bottle of wine. I just thought we might both appreciate a bit of company while we refuel, but if you’d rather not, just say so.’

  She opened her mouth to say no, felt churlish and tired and hungry and confused, and shut it again. Besides, there was that touch of loneliness, of isolation, in his voice again.

  So instead of saying no, she found herself giving in to his gentle persuasion. ‘Just give me time for a bath first,’ she pleaded, and he grinned.

  ‘Sure. I’ll see you in an hour. Now, which is your house?’

  And as he pulled up outside and waited for her to get out, she wondered what on earth she was letting herself in for...

  CHAPTER TWO

  He spotted her the moment he walked onto the ward.

  She was standing at the desk, flicking through a set of notes with a frown on her face, and as he approached she looked up. For a moment her face lit up, but then she seemed to pull some kind of shutter down over it and the smile she gave him was purely professional.

  Damn. He might have known it would go this way. He should have kissed her last night while he’d had the chance— but maybe she was just playing it cool while she was on duty. Yes. That was it. She’d been genuinely pleased to see him, and then professionalism had taken over. So, if he played his cards right, he might get somewhere with her, given time.

  But obviously only off duty—or at least not in public.

  So he dragged out a similarly professional smile as he walked the last few feet to the desk and paused beside her. ‘Good morning, Sister.’

  ‘Mr Corrigan,’ she said, inclining her head a fraction in reply. ‘What can I do for you?’

  You don’t want to know, he thought, and stifled a groan. ‘I’ve got my elective list this morning—I just thought I’d pop in on my pre-ops, reassure them, go through things again and make sure they understand. Most of them haven’t met me yet, and I think it’s a bit of a liberty to cut someone up if you’ve not met them face to face.’

  She smiled then, a proper smile, put the file down and picked up a list. ‘Would you like a guided tour?’

  ‘Of my pre-ops? Please, if you’ve got time.’

  She laughed. ‘Time? What’s that? But since it’s you...’

  ‘You’re too kind.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  He followed her down the ward and into one of the six-bed bays. It was only seven-thirty, and yet already she knew who all of his patients were, she’d spoken to all of them and they greeted her with warmth. Interesting.

  She introduced them to him one by one, and he shook their hands, ran through the procedures and answered their questions, while she stood quietly by and filled him in on any point of hospital protocol that he was still unsure of.

  ‘This is Mrs Evans—she’s due for hip replacement this morning,’ she began, and he chatted to the smiley, cheerful woman who was more than ready for the operation that would take away her debilitating pain.

  ‘I don’t suppose you want to do them both while you’re at it?’ she asked jokingly.

  He smiled. ‘I’d love to, but unfortunately I don’t think you’d thank me. One at a time is quite enough, but once we’ve done the left, which is definitely the worst, we’ll see about fitting you in for the right once you’re well enough. The procedure I’ll use is less invasive than the old method, because I’ll go in from the front through two incisions and you’ll have less pain afterwards, a quicker recovery and less chance of dislocation, so it’s much better all round and you’ll probably notice an improvement in pain pretty much immediately.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward to coming out of there like an
eighteen-year-old,’ she teased, and he chuckled.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, and moved on, still chuckling, to the next patient.

  Mrs Dane was also in for a new hip, Mr Forrest had a mal-union of a fractured humeral shaft that needed rebreaking and pinning to give a better result, and young Debbie Wade had a locking knee for arthroscopy to tidy up her torn cartilage and remove the loose bodies that were causing the joint to lock.

  A typical list, nice and straightforward, which was good until he settled in. He’d want more variety later, especially in the form of trauma, and a chance to develop his interest in innovative joint work. No doubt he’d get it in due course, but most of all he’d wanted a change of scene.

  Had needed a change, a new start, and he’d got that. There was time for the rest later.

  He chatted briefly to each patient, giving them the time they needed but no more, and then when he’d gone through everyone, he straightened up and turned to Annie. ‘Right, is that everyone?’

  ‘It is. Busy list. Will you get them all done?’

  ‘Barring disasters, and I don’t intend to have any of them. I just hope nobody else does.’

  ‘Famous last words,’ she said, and he gave her a rueful smile. ‘Don’t. Right, I’d better go and get ready.’

  ‘Are you happy with the order of the list?’

  He nodded. ‘So long as the anaesthetist is happy.’

  ‘He is. He’s been down already and checked them all over. No problems.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘OK. And—Patrick?’

  He hesitated, waiting for her to continue, and was fascinated to see a little touch of colour warm her cheeks.

  ‘Thanks for last night.’

  He squashed the grin of delight. ‘My pleasure. How are the blisters?’

  ‘Oh—I’ll live.’

  ‘Hmm. You need to change those plasters.’

  ‘I will when I get time.’

  ‘Make time,’ he instructed firmly. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  And he walked off the ward and up to Theatre, his body positively humming with life and enthusiasm. He hadn’t felt like this for years, and he found himself fighting a crazy urge to break into a song-and-dance routine.