‘What about the agency?’
‘Well, we’ll get on to them in the morning, then I’ll guess we’ll have to start interviewing again. I have to say, I thought we were done with all that for the time being.’
‘I know,’ Andres agreed, ‘so did I, but I suppose it can’t be helped and we’ll only have to find a part-timer to cover Belinda’s hours. I bet Arun wasn’t too happy.’
‘You can say that again. You know how he hates change of any kind. I keep telling him he’s getting old.’ Theo gave a short laugh. ‘But, listen, while I think of it, Annabel says to tell you that we are having a dinner party on the fourteenth of next month.’
Andres’s heart sank.
‘She said to tell you now in plenty of time before you get booked up with anything else.’
‘Right. OK. Thank her for me, won’t you?’
‘Yes, of course. See you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, see you. Bye.’
Andres hung up and stared at the phone for a long moment then, after glancing at his desk calendar, he gave a groan. The fourteenth of February—Valentine’s Day. He knew exactly what that would mean. Annabel would, no doubt, even now be lining up one of her friends to partner him at her dinner party—she’d done it before, not once but several times, and each time it had been something of a disaster because the girl in question had been as far removed from his ideal as was possible. He didn’t know how to tell Annabel not to bother, that he quite simply wasn’t interested, because he knew that by doing so he would offend her. She meant well, he knew that, and really he was rather fond of her and Theo. If only they would stop matchmaking and thinking they knew what was best for him. The last girl they had tried to pair him off with hadn’t seemed to have a single thought in her head and had giggled incessantly throughout the meal—he shuddered at the memory. He had compared the unfortunate girl with Consuela, as he always did, and had, as always, found her wanting.
He and Consuela had been so right for each other. She had been his best friend, his wife, his lover and his soul mate, and he seriously doubted he would ever find anyone ever again to fulfil all those needs. He had attempted a couple of relationships in the last couple of years but in each case he had recognised that he had merely been using the woman and that when lust had spent its course, as with Annabel’s friends, there had been nothing there. Sometimes he wondered if he was destined to spend the rest of his life alone, a prospect that, in his present frame of mind, seemed quite appealing.
Wandering out of his study, he climbed the wide staircase. Once in the large master bedroom with its dark oak furniture and burgundy and cream furnishings he rapidly undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the hot water course over his head and shoulders and down the length of his body, washing away the grime of London and the stresses and strains of the day.
Afterwards he dressed in jeans and a tracksuit top before sending out for a take-away meal. While he was waiting for it to arrive, he relaxed on the huge cream sofa in the sitting room, which overlooked the street, and flicked on the television. Aimlessly he hopped from channel to channel, not really finding anything he wanted to watch. Then, just as he was about to switch to the news channel, he stopped and stared at the screen. There was a film showing, something filmed in Australia, but it was the actress who was playing the lead who had caught his eye. There was something about her, with her flaming red hair and creamy complexion, that touched a chord somewhere deep inside him, even stirring the first strains of desire, something rare these days. And also strange when he thought about it, for red-haired women had never really attracted him before. So why this one, why now?
He leaned forward as the camera went in for a close-up, then his breath caught in his throat as the woman’s mesmerising green eyes seemed to look straight into his. Red hair, creamy skin, green eyes. What was this—what did this remind him of? Then he remembered. The nurse, Lara? Was that her name? Yes, Lara, that was it—the one who had nearly run him over, the one who had given him a lift to the station. This woman, this actress reminded him of Lara. He stared at the screen, watching her carefully, aware with every turn of her head of a slight but growing sense of arousal. Then, to his dismay, the credits started to roll and the film was over.
‘Damn,’ he muttered under his breath. He flicked the off switch, sat back on the sofa and stared at the blank screen.
CHAPTER THREE
‘I PROMISE I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ Lara bent over the patient and prepared to remove the dressing that covered a large area on his chest and extended up and across his neck.
‘It’s gonna hurt…I know it’s gonna hurt.’ The patient, a young man called Michael Rowe, screwed up his face as Lara grasped one corner of the gauze dressing with tweezers and lifted it slowly and gently, a millimetre at a time. Michael had been brought to the unit a week previously after suffering severe burns in a house fire at his neighbour’s home. He had sustained his injuries when he had forced his way into the house through dense smoke and flames and had rescued the neighbour’s children from the blaze. His family and the local community were hailing him as a hero.
‘That’s looking good,’ Lara said, as she removed the last section of dressing. ‘No signs of infection and there’s evidence of some healthy new blood vessels.’
‘Sister Jackman said the surgeon will be coming to see me this morning,’ said Michael as he exhaled and relaxed slightly.
‘He’ll certainly want to see these burns before he decides on any skin grafts,’ Lara replied, ‘so what I propose doing is to cover the wounds with just a light dressing until he arrives.’
She glanced up as a young woman wearing a white coat arrived at Michael’s bedside. ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘here’s Lindy, our nutritionist, come to talk about your calorie intake.’ With a smile at Lindy, she added, ‘He’s all yours, but be gentle with him. He’s just had his dressings removed and he’s a bit fragile at the moment.’ Gathering up the soiled dressings and depositing them in a plastic bag for incineration, Lara wheeled the dressings trolley out of the bay and into one of the unit’s sluice rooms, where she put the instruments she had used ready for sterilisation then set about disinfecting the trolley. As she worked she heard Sue’s voice outside at the nurses’ station. Sue had been off duty for the past two days so Lara hadn’t had an opportunity to ask her about more hours. When she had finished her disinfecting she carefully washed and dried her hands then, on walking out of the sluice, found that Sue was at the desk and appeared to be alone.
‘Sue,’ she said, ‘may I have a quick word?’
Sue looked up, frowned slightly then threw a glance in the direction of her office, the door of which was slightly open.
‘It’s all right,’ said Lara quickly, imagining that Sue thought she wanted a private lengthy talk. ‘It won’t take a moment, and it isn’t anything particularly private.’
‘All right,’ said Sue with a nod, ‘what’s the problem?’
‘It’s not really a problem,’ Lara replied, ‘although I guess it could become one in time. You see, Sue, I need more hours. I knew the day would come when I would need to go full time again and I think that time is now. Callum is at school now and, well, quite frankly we need the money…’ She paused as she suddenly caught sight of Sue’s expression. ‘What is it?’
‘Oh, Lara,’ said Sue, ‘if only you’d said something before. I’ve just taken on another part-timer—I really didn’t think you’d be ready yet…Oh, I wish I’d known. I’m so sorry.’
‘And there’s nothing else?’ asked Lara in dismay.
‘Not at the moment there isn’t, I’m afraid, but there might be in time. You know how often staff come and go.’
‘I really need something now,’ said Lara slowly, as in her mind’s eye she saw the ever-growing pile of brown envelopes on the kitchen mantelpiece.
‘Maybe you could get something in another department,’ said Sue hopefully. ‘I know A and E were looking for more staff just recently.’
&nbs
p; ‘Yes.’ Lara nodded. ‘Maybe I can…’ She looked up sharply as the door of Sue’s office opened fully and Andres suddenly appeared. For some inexplicable reason her heart jumped at the sudden and unexpected sight of him. She hadn’t seen him since he’d got out of her car on his first day on the unit. No doubt since then he’d been operating in his London clinic.
‘Thank you, Sister.’ He nodded at Sue, and Lara imagined he must have been using her office for going through the day’s cases or maybe even for something as simple as using her phone. ‘Good morning, Lara,’ he added, to her amazement.
‘Good morning, Mr Ricardo,’ she murmured in reply. She might have called him Andres if Sue hadn’t been there, but somehow she didn’t quite dare, even though he had told her his first name as if he expected her to use it.
‘Is Mr Rowe ready for me to see?’ he asked, the question directed at Lara.
‘Yes,’ she replied, suddenly uncomfortably aware of Sue’s expression, as if she was trying to fathom this unexpected familiarity between the locum surgeon and her staff nurse, a familiarity which certainly hadn’t been present on the previous occasion they had met, when they had appeared to be at each other’s throats. ‘I’ve just changed his dressings,’ she added.
‘How are the wounds looking?’ he asked, and still he looked at her rather than at Sue.
‘Very good. There are definite signs of granulation, no infection and his blood pressure and heart rate are good.’
‘So we could be looking at an autograft tomorrow?’
‘Yes, possibly,’ Lara replied, ‘but you would need to see him first.’
‘Of course. I suggest we go now.’
‘Very well.’ Lara glanced hesitantly at Sue who simply raised her eyebrows in a resigned fashion.
‘You’d better take Mr Ricardo to see Michael,’ she said.
Lara led the way onto the ward where they found Michael still talking to the nutritionist. They both looked up as Lara and the surgeon approached, then Lindy murmured an excuse and hurried away.
‘Mr Rowe, it’s nice to see you back with us,’ said Andres. ‘The last time I saw you, you weren’t really aware of anything very much.’
‘I know,’ Michael replied. ‘They tell me I was out of it for about three days. That was probably a good thing—at least I didn’t have so much pain.’
‘I sometimes think nature has a very good way of arranging these things,’ said Andres. As he spoke he took Michael’s chart from the end of his bed and began studying the readings.
‘Will you be doing the skin grafts?’ asked Michael.
‘Not today,’ Andres replied. ‘Maybe tomorrow. But I’d like to have a look at your burns before I decide.’
Lara moved forward and for the second time that morning lifted the light gauze dressings covering Michael’s wounds.
‘Has anyone explained to you what might be possible in the way of skin grafts?’ asked Andres, after he had carefully examined the wounds.
‘The doctor came to see me yesterday,’ Michael replied, ‘and he said something about taking some skin from my thigh and using it on my neck, and maybe some for my hands.’
‘That’s right,’ Andres agreed. ‘That is exactly what I hope to do.’
Lara watched as with his fine, strong, surgeon’s hands Andres gently touched the skin around the wounds on Michael’s neck and on his hands, then equally gently examined the skin of the man’s thighs on the proposed donor site.
‘This is looking good,’ he said at last, straightening up. ‘Now, do you have any questions?’
‘This part where you’ll be taking the skin from…’ Michael indicated his thighs. ‘Will that hurt much afterwards?’
‘It will be sore for some days,’ Andres replied truthfully, ‘but we will be able to give you something to help control the pain.’ He paused and glanced up at Lara, then back at Michael again. ‘I understand you saved the lives of two children,’ he said.
‘Yeah, well.’ Michael looked embarrassed. ‘Anyone would have done the same. I never had time to think about it—I just did it.’
‘Nevertheless, it was very brave of you. Now, I want you to rest today and tomorrow I will see you in Theatre.’
He and Lara moved away from Michael’s bed. ‘I understand you have someone else for me to see,’ said Andres.
‘Yes.’ Lara nodded. ‘A man was brought onto the unit in the night. He had been on night shift at the factory where he works and he was involved in an accident with chemicals. He received serious acid burns to his hands and on his face where some of the acid splashed. He was stabilised in A and E then brought to us.’
‘I’ll see him now,’ said Andres.
The patient, Amtul Karinski, was only semiconscious and was receiving fluids through an IV infusion, together with analgesics for pain relief. Katie was tending him and gently lifted his dressings so that Andres could examine the injuries.
‘The burns are very deep,’ said Andres. ‘This often happens with acid burns—I have seen them reach the bone. These will require full-thickness skin grafting. I will see him again tomorrow and if he is conscious I will talk to him about possible donor sites.’
There were two other patients on the ward for Andres to see, and Lara found herself accompanying him. Usually this would have been Sue’s job, but she seemed to have been delayed so, rather than waste the consultant’s time, Lara simply carried on with the ward round. When it was over they returned to the nurses’ station where Andres thanked her before disappearing down the corridor to his consulting room. As he did so Sue came out of her office and stared at Andres’s retreating back before turning her attention to Lara.
‘So what was all that about?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry, Sue,’ Lara said quickly. ‘You appeared to be busy so I completed the round for you.’
‘I wasn’t meaning that,’ Sue replied crisply. ‘What I meant was this new friendliness between you and Mr Ricardo. The last time he was here you could hardly seem to bear the sight of each other, and now—well!’
For some reason Lara felt the colour touch her cheeks as out of the corner of her eye she saw Katie approach the desk, her manner one of curiosity as if she sensed some sort of tension between Lara and the sister. ‘Did I hear him call you Lara?’ Sue went on relentlessly.
‘What’s all this?’ Katie stared from one to the other.
‘Lara here and our new consultant,’ said Sue. ‘They were at daggers drawn the other day if I’m not very much mistaken.’
‘That’s right,’ Katie chipped in, more agog than ever now. ‘That was after Lara had nearly mown him down. So what’s changed?’
‘It sounded very much to me as if they are now on first-name terms,’ remarked Sue dryly.
‘Really?’ Katie swung round on her friend. ‘So how did all this happen?’
‘It’s nothing to get excited about,’ protested Lara. She was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable now. Sue never made any secret of the fact that she disliked over-familiarity between staff on her ward, and especially between her staff and consultant surgeons. ‘It was the other day,’ she said, and went on to explain what had happened when she had left the hospital.
Katie’s eyes widened and Sue frowned. ‘Did he accept your offer of a lift?’ she asked, a little frostily, Lara thought. ‘Was he happy to trust your driving, in spite of the fact that he’d accused you of speeding?’
‘Obviously, yes,’ Lara agreed. She was beginning to get a bit rattled now by Sue’s manner. ‘In fact,’ she went on, ‘he as good as apologised and admitted that he may not have been paying as much attention as he should.’
‘What did you say to that?’ Katie was obviously enjoying this.
‘Well, to be honest, I ended up admitting that I just might have been going faster than I should.’
‘Told you so, didn’t I?’ said Katie with a laugh.
‘So you’re saying all these mutual confessions led on to first-name terms?’ asked Sue, raising one rather sc
eptical eyebrow.
‘I don’t really remember,’ Lara replied, wrinkling her nose. ‘We talked about this and that and I guess I must have called him Mr Ricardo—anyway, when he got out of the car he told me his name was Andres and I told him my name. Really, that’s all there was to it—it was no big deal,’ she protested when the two women continued staring at her.
Sue gave a sniff and began collecting up a pile of folders on the desk. ‘This won’t do,’ she said briskly. ‘All this standing about, gossiping. We have work to do.’ With that she disappeared into her office and shut the door firmly behind her.
‘I reckon she fancies him,’ said Katie with a wicked chuckle.
‘Probably.’ Lara gave a sigh. ‘Honestly, what a lot of fuss about nothing.’
‘It wouldn’t be nothing if she really does fancy him,’ observed Katie, ‘and she thought he was eyeing you.’
‘Well, he wasn’t eyeing me as you so charmingly put it,’ snapped Lara. ‘I’ve told you exactly what happened and that’s all there is to it. And, besides, even if he was eyeing me, there’s absolutely no way I’d be interested. I don’t have the time or the energy for dating these days.’
‘Did he really ask you to call him by his first name?’ asked Katie.
‘No, he simply told me what his name is and I told him mine.’
‘What else did you talk about?’ Katie clearly hadn’t finished.
‘Not a lot really—there wasn’t that much time,’ Lara protested. ‘Let’s face it, it isn’t far from here to the station. I did ask him if he was missing Argentina, and he said that he missed the sun. And I also asked him about his clinic in London.’
‘And what did he have to say about that?’
‘Not a lot,’ Lara replied. ‘It’s a private clinic dealing mainly with cosmetic surgery and he’s in partnership with two other consultants.’
‘Is he married?’ Katie began tidying the desk.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Lara. ‘I would imagine so—a man like that at the height of his career.’
The Latin Surgeon Page 4