He cleared away then settled down in the sitting room to read. The book had been top of the bestseller list for weeks but it failed to grab his attention. In the end, he gave up and stared into space, thinking about the future and what it held. The thought of abandoning his work filled him with dread. Even though he loved the estate because it was where he’d been born and brought up, he couldn’t imagine devoting his life to it. Was he really doing the right thing, or was guilt clouding his judgement?
It was impossible to decide. He was riven with guilt for causing the accident that had cost Duncan and Stephanie their lives, and desperate to make up for it, but was taking over the running of the estate the best way to do that? Or had Heather been right when she’d told him that he should find someone else to do the job?
Archie sighed because everything seemed to come back to Heather. It was hard to believe that he had known her for such a short time when she had taken over his life to this extent. It was Heather he thought about when he woke up in the morning, and it was Heather who filled his mind when he drifted off to sleep. Were these feelings he had for her real, or were they some sort of rebound effect from losing Stephanie?
He tried to convince himself it was the latter but he didn’t really believe it. His feelings for Heather were much deeper than that but he had to control them, had to remember that she wasn’t looking for a relationship at the moment. Maybe she had kissed him on Sunday, and enjoyed it, too, but it had meant nothing. When he moved to Scotland, Heather wouldn’t be going with him.
By nine o’clock that night most of the children were asleep. There was just Emily awake when Heather did her round. The high-dependency beds were housed in an annexe off the main ward and Emily was the only child in there at the present time. One of the ICU staff had been monitoring her during the day but there was no one to cover that night so Heather had volunteered. She smiled at the little girl as she went in.
‘Hello, Emily. How are you feeling? Would you like a drink, sweetheart?’
Emily shook her head. Although, physically, she seemed to be recovering from the operation to remove her spleen, she was extremely subdued. Heather patted her hand, hating to see her looking so unhappy.
‘I tell you what. I’ll finish my round then I’ll read you a story. Would you like that?’
Emily nodded solemnly. She pointed to the book lying on the beside table. ‘Will you read me this one?’
‘Of course I will.’
Heather checked Emily’s obs and noted them on the chart then went back to the ward. Adam Regis was next on her list so she woke him up. Although it seemed cruel to keep waking him up all the time, it was essential that a close check was kept on his condition in case any problems developed. Head injuries were always a cause for concern and they needed to be extra-vigilant.
Emily was wide awake when Heather went back. She sat down on the side of the bed, turning on the light so that Emily could see the pictures while she read to her. ‘Once upon a time there was a little puppy called Joe,’ she began.
Emily listened intently to every word; she even smiled when they got to the last page and little Joe was reunited with his owner. ‘That was a lovely story, wasn’t it?’ Heather said as she closed the book. ‘I can see why it’s your favourite.’
She tucked Emily in. ‘Now you must try to go to sleep. Your mummy will be here in the morning—that will be nice, won’t it?’
Emily didn’t say anything. She just closed her eyes and snuggled down under the covers.
Heather made her way down the ward. Adam’s light was on and she stopped to see if he wanted anything, frowning when the boy failed to acknowledge her when she spoke to him. Bending down, she quickly checked him over and felt her heart sink when she discovered that one of his pupils was much larger than the other. She knew that the boy needed to be seen immediately by a doctor and hurried to the desk to tell Abby.
‘Drat! Mike’s off tonight, too—he swopped shifts with Gina because he was going home for the weekend,’ the other nurse told her, picking up the phone. She keyed in a number then put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘I hate dragging Archie in but I don’t think Gina can deal with this on her own. He ended up coming in on Sunday as well.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Heather replied automatically. Her heart sank when Abby looked at her in surprise. ‘He mentioned it to me,’ she fudged, because it seemed safer than admitting that she’d been with Archie when he had received the call. Although they’d done nothing wrong, she knew how quickly gossip could spread throughout a hospital and didn’t want everyone talking about them.
‘Oh, I see.’ Fortunately, Abby had no time to pursue the matter as Archie answered the phone just then. ‘Archie, it’s Abby. I’m sorry to do this to you again, but can you come in?’
Heather left the other nurse to explain what had happened and went back to the boy. His breathing sounded a lot more laboured than it had been a short time before so she unhooked the oxygen mask and popped it on him. She’d only just done that when he started to vomit so she quickly removed the mask and rolled him onto his side so that he wouldn’t choke. Abby joined her a few minutes later, looking extremely concerned when she saw how quickly Adam’s condition was deteriorating.
‘I’ve phoned Theatre and put them on standby,’ she explained as she helped Heather clean up. ‘Archie’s on his way and he’ll probably do a craniotomy. In the meantime, he wants us to send Adam for a CT scan.’
‘Shall I phone for a porter?’ Heather offered.
‘No. It will be quicker if one of us takes him there ourselves.’ Abby glanced at her fob watch. ‘It won’t take Archie very long to get here. He only lives in Chelsea so he doesn’t have far to travel.’
Heather forbore to say that she knew exactly where Archie lived. She nodded when Abby asked her if she would take Adam to the radiology unit while Abby contacted the boy’s parents. They wheeled the bed from the ward and Abby helped her manoeuvre it into the lift.
‘Ground floor,’ Abby told her, pressing the button. ‘Someone will meet you there. OK?’
‘Fine,’ Heather murmured as the doors closed.
It took only seconds to reach the ground floor where she was met by one of the radiographers. They followed the main corridor until they reached the radiology unit where the radiologist was waiting for them.
‘I thought it was too quiet tonight,’ he joked, helping them transfer Adam into a trolley so he could be wheeled through to the room where the CT scanner was housed.
‘Sorry. We didn’t intend to spoil your evening,’ she replied with a smile.
She glanced round when the door opened and felt her heart leap when she saw Archie. He’d obviously just arrived because he was still wearing his coat. He looked so big and so solid, and so utterly dependable as he came over to them that Heather breathed a sigh of relief. Everything would be fine now that Archie was there.
‘How’s he doing?’ he asked, and she forced her brain into action when she realised the question had been directed at her.
‘He started vomiting just after Abby spoke to you. His breathing is very laboured as well.’
‘Right. Let’s get the scan done and see what’s going on. It’s probably a haemorrhage but I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with. Adam took quite a knock to the right side of his head when he hit the ground, but there’s a possibility that the bleed could be on the opposite side if the brain banged against his skull.’ He turned to the radiologist. ‘All right if I come and peer over your shoulder, Graham?’
‘Be my guest,’ the other man replied.
‘Thanks.’
Archie whipped off his coat and tossed it over a chair then disappeared into the room that housed the monitoring equipment. Images from the scanner would be relayed to the banks of screens so that he could watch what was happening while the scan was being done.
Heather knew that she wasn’t needed any longer and wheeled the bed out of the room. Everywhere was peaceful when she got back to the ward and s
he was glad about that. She’d had enough excitement for one night and she didn’t just mean what had happened with Adam either.
She sighed as she stripped off the sheets and washed the mattress. Even though she knew that she couldn’t trust her own feelings at the moment, the more she saw of Archie, the more she grew to like and admire him. He was kind and clever, warm and funny, sexy and good-looking. In short, he was everything she admired in a man but it was far too soon to think about getting involved with him or anyone else. Barely three months had passed since she’d been planning on marrying Ross and look what a mistake that would have been.
She had known Ross for years, too, yet their marriage wouldn’t have worked. It simply proved how poor her judgement was and that she mustn’t rush into another situation she would regret. Getting it into her head that Archie was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with was just plain crazy.
CHAPTER NINE
THE scan showed that Adam had an extradural haematoma on the right side of his head. An artery had ruptured, causing bleeding into the space between the inner surface of his skull and the external surface of the dura mater, the outer layer of the protective covering over his brain. Archie wasted no time getting Adam to Theatre once his diagnosis was confirmed. Gina Davidson was assisting him.
‘I’m going to drill burr holes next,’ he explained for Gina’s benefit. He had already removed the layers of skin, muscle and membrane from the site of the injury and now he needed to remove a section of the skull. ‘Have you seen this done before?’
‘Just once when I was a student,’ Gina replied, looking decidedly queasy as she watched him drill the first hole. ‘I wasn’t actually in Theatre at the time, though. I was observing from the gallery.’
Archie could remember how he’d felt when he’d seen the procedure done for the first time close at hand and sympathised. ‘I know how brutal it looks but it’s the only way to get inside the skull. Don’t feel embarrassed if you feel a bit faint. Most of us feel the same until we get used to seeing it done.’
‘So I’m not a complete wuss,’ Gina said dryly, and he laughed.
‘No way!’
He made a series of small holes in the boy’s skull roughly in the shape of a circle. Once that was done he used a Gigli’s saw to cut between the holes until he had a lid of bone which he then folded back. He nodded when he saw the blood clot that had formed underneath.
‘There’s the culprit. I’ll drain it away and clip the artery. With a bit of luck, that should sort things out.’
It was delicate work and he didn’t rush as he cleared away the clot then clipped the artery to stop it bleeding. ‘How’s he doing?’ he asked, glancing at Maggie Parker, who was his anaesthetist that night.
‘No problem here,’ she assured him, her eyes never leaving the dials.
‘Good.’
Once he was sure everything was as it should have been, Archie set about putting everything back together. He replaced the bone and stitched the membranes and muscles back into place. There was just the skin that needed stitching now and he decided to let Gina do it because it would be good practice for her.
‘I’ll hand over to you now,’ he told her, moving aside. She was very petite, barely five feet two in her rubber-soled clogs, and he fetched over the step she used so she could see the table. ‘Here’s your box, shorty.’
‘There are laws against people making remarks like that,’ she retorted as she stepped onto the box. ‘I’ll have you know that I’m not short, I’m vertically challenged.’
‘Oops! Sorry.’ Archie grinned at her, knowing that she hadn’t been offended by his teasing. He always tried to promote good rapport between the members of his team because it helped them work well together. ‘I must try to get myself up to speed on the proper PC terms before I insult anyone else.’
Everyone laughed at that before they carried on. Gina did an excellent job of closing and Archie told her that when they left Theatre a short time later.
‘That was a first-rate job, Gina. You have a natural talent for surgery so I hope you’re going to stick at it.’
‘I’m going to give it my best shot,’ she said happily.
They parted company then. Archie headed to the men’s showers and changed out of his scrubs. He checked his watch, groaning when he discovered that it was already one a.m. There was no chance of him going home just yet, however. He needed to speak to Adam’s parents first and explain what had happened. He also wanted to be on hand until Adam had come round from the anaesthetic. Although he wasn’t anticipating any problems, there was always a chance that something could go wrong and he preferred to stick around.
He dealt with the parents first, explaining in simple terms what had happened and what he had done. They were naturally upset and worried in case there were after-effects from the surgery. Archie assured them that it was unlikely, although he couldn’t give them any guarantees. Head injuries were notoriously tricky and even though the problem had been dealt with promptly, there might be some repercussions in the future.
He went to check on Adam next. The boy was in the recovery room and his vital signs were good—his breathing was steady, his pulse and heart rate what Archie would have expected post-surgery. He told the recovery room nurse he would check again in half an hour, but that she was to page him if she was worried and left. It was almost two by then and he was gasping for a drink so he headed to the canteen. There was nobody in there at that hour of the night and he had the place to himself. He dunked a teabag in some boiling water, added milk and sugar, then sat down at a table. He had just taken his first sip when his bleeper started tweeting, and he groaned. Why did it always happen whenever he had a cup in his hands?
He got up and went to the phone, keying in the number for A and E. The duty doctor answered and explained that they had admitted a child with suspected appendicitis. Archie agreed that he would see her and hung up, wondering how they’d known that he was in the hospital at this time of the night—not that it mattered, of course. He was hardly going to quibble about the time when a child’s life was on the line.
Adrenaline surged through him as he hurried to the door. This was what he was trained to do and he loved every minute of it. It made him see how hard it was going to be to give it up. Maybe it would be easier if he had someone to share his new life with, he thought wistfully, like Heather, for instance, but there was no chance of that happening. Heather needed to work out her own future and he didn’t have any part to play in it.
The day shift clocked on at a quarter to six the following morning. Heather waited while Abby did the handover even though nobody expected her to. As an agency nurse, she was simply expected to work the hours she was paid to do, but she couldn’t just rush off in case somebody needed to ask her a question. It was another fifteen minutes before the formalities were completed and Abby sighed as they made their way to the staffroom.
‘I am absolutely beat. What a night that was.’
‘It was hectic,’ Heather agreed, opening her locker.
‘You can say that again. Between Adam and that kid with appendicitis, it’s a wonder we coped.’ Abby slammed her locker door and smiled at her. ‘You were a real star, Heather. I know I moan about agency staff, but I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.’
‘Thank you kindly.’
Heather grinned at the other woman, feeling heartened by the compliment. There was often a lot of hostility between the permanent staff and any agency workers so she appreciated Abby’s comments all the more. They left the staffroom together and headed to the lift. There were a lot of staff going off duty and Abby got waylaid by one of her friends. She waved to indicate that Heather shouldn’t wait for her when the lift arrived.
Heather got out at the ground floor, hoping her bus would be on time. A couple of mornings it hadn’t turned up and she was praying it wouldn’t happen again that day as she crossed the foyer. She had almost reached the door when Archie caught up with
her and she looked at him in surprise.
‘I didn’t know you were still here.’
‘I ended up doing that appendectomy,’ he explained, opening the door for her.
‘Thanks.’ She stepped outside, shivering as a blast of cold air roared across the car park.
‘Grr, it’s cold!’ Archie exclaimed, turning up the collar of his coat.
‘It is. I just hope my bus turns up. I don’t fancy hanging around in this weather,’ Heather said without thinking as they set off across the car park.
‘Why don’t I give you a lift?’ Archie offered immediately, and she groaned.
‘I wasn’t angling for a lift!’
‘I know you weren’t.’ He shrugged when she gave him a sceptical look. ‘It never crossed my mind. Honestly.’
‘Good. I’d hate you to think I was using you,’ she said firmly.
‘It wouldn’t matter if you were.’
He strode along beside her, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his coat. The wind had whipped a little colour into his face but she could see the lines that tiredness had etched either side of his mouth and couldn’t help feeling concerned. Archie gave far too much of himself to his job. He needed to take better care of himself.
‘Well, it should matter. You need to think about yourself a bit more.’
‘We’re friends, Heather. I can’t help it if I worry about you.’
Heather felt a lump come to her throat when she heard the sincerity in his voice. ‘Thank you.’
‘There’s nothing to thank me for.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘So will you let me run you home? It will save me worrying about you being stuck here if your bus doesn’t turn up.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘We’re in the centre of London. It’s not as though I’ll be stranded in the middle of the Arctic!’
Marrying the Runaway Bride Page 8