St. Piran's: The Wedding!

by Alison Roberts

  Besides, the CEO knew what he was doing.

  Megan was perfect for the task.

  Josh was still shaking his head. He added the hint of a smile as he eased himself away from the wall and allowed Megan free access to the lift button and escape.

  ‘It’s not a problem,’ he said decisively. ‘We’re lucky to have you on board. When are you going to start?’

  ‘In a day or two. As soon as I’ve got the renovations on my cottage underway properly. Maybe Thursday?’

  ‘Excellent.’ Josh tried, not very successfully, to widen his smile. ‘See you then, Megan.’

  He walked away. He knew Megan would have pushed the button for the lift but he also knew that she wasn’t watching for it to arrive.

  She was watching him.

  He could feel it as clearly as if it were her hands and not her gaze touching him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHAT HAD SHE been thinking?

  Megan was shredding salad vegetables with far more force than required as she groaned inwardly yet again.

  ‘I must be crazy,’ she said aloud.

  ‘Hardly.’ The voice came from her mobile phone, which she had on speaker mode, propped on the kitchen windowsill. ‘It’s not every day that you get such a generous donation. It’ll make a huge difference to the clinic, you know that.’

  ‘But it’s not a donation, is it? I’m going to have to earn it. By working...with Josh. He’ll be looking over my shoulder the whole time. This is his baby. He was talking about it years ago. Before I left.’

  ‘What’s really worrying you, Megan?’ The male voice was kindly. ‘Not being able to do the job justice, or having to work that closely with Josh?’

  ‘I—I’m not sure. It’s complicated.’

  ‘Relationships always are. You’ve got some serious history with Josh, we both know that.’

  ‘It’s not just him, Charles. It’s the cottage and the hospital and...and Gran. When I think of family, I think of this place. These people. It’s...confusing.’ She twisted the iceberg lettuce in her hands, dividing it into smaller and smaller pieces.

  ‘Which is precisely why you need to take time to get your head around it all.’

  ‘But maybe that’s the wrong thing to do.’ Megan was separating lettuce leaves now and pulling at them to break them up even further. ‘Maybe I should just pack it all in and come to London. What’s the weather like?’

  ‘Cold and grey.’ She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I’m sitting beside the fire. I think Mrs Benson’s got some roast beef and Yorkshire pudding in the oven for my dinner.’

  ‘Mmm...nice. We’re having fish and salad.’ Megan eyed the lettuce she’d shredded into minuscule pieces, the tomatoes that had been diced to within an inch of their lives. Cucumber that should be discs but was now tiny triangles. ‘I’m not sure it was such a good idea after all.’

  ‘It’s healthy. I’m pleased that you’re looking after yourself. Oh, there’s the bell. I’d better go and present myself in the dining room. Talk to you soon, love. When are you going to start the job?’

  ‘On Thursday. I’m meeting all the contractors at the cottage tomorrow to make a list of everything that needs doing.’

  ‘Don’t overdo things.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Having said goodbye, Megan scooped the sorry salad into a bowl and turned her attention to crumbing the fresh fish fillets she’d bought in St Piran.

  It was all Claire O’Hara’s fault, she decided.

  Telling her that Josh was lonely.

  No. It was her own fault, for remembering what Claire had said in that moment when she could have said no to Albert. When, having come up with his brilliant idea, he’d given her a very significant glance and asked if—given her...ahem...history with Josh—she thought they would be able to work together again.

  She could have said no. She probably could have said no and still received permission to collect at least something to contribute to the clinic, but the lure of being able to make a really significant difference had been huge.

  And when she thought about working with Josh, all that came into her head was Claire’s voice.

  But he’s lonely, so he is.

  Why had he told her that his life was so perfect? Was he trying to protect her in some way?

  And why did it bother her so much if he was lonely?

  Because she understood? Because the words resonated at such a very deep level in her own heart?

  Because the kind of love that she and Josh shared would never, ever go away completely—on either side—and because they could never be together, there would always be that empty...lonely space inside.

  The fact that they couldn’t make it work was sad but it didn’t mean that she didn’t want Josh to be happy. To close off that lonely space and move on.

  Did it?

  Charles had been wise, Megan concluded, slipping the fish into the oven to bake. She had to face this head on and find out exactly what was going on in both her head and her heart. She’d promised Charles that she would do that before making those final, irrevocable decisions about her future.

  When she was really sure of herself, she could make sure that Josh knew that she was stronger now. That she didn’t need protection. That she’d moved on successfully and was on the way to making her life as perfect as possible, too.

  Did they both need to believe that in order to finally let go?

  * * *

  ‘Did you order this, Megan?’

  ‘What is it?’

  The nurse, Gina, started unrolling a large, laminated poster. A line of text became visible. ‘It’s a paediatric resuscitation chart.’

  ‘Oh...good. That’s to go on the wall behind where the IV and airway supplies are going in the main resus area. There should be a paediatric Glasgow coma scale and a classification of shock chart coming as well.’

  ‘OK.’ But Gina looked curious as she unrolled the chart a little further. ‘Aren’t doctors supposed to know all this stuff about weights and drug dosages and things off by heart?’

  Megan nodded, looking up from where she was sorting packets of supplies. ‘Think of it as an insurance policy,’ she said. ‘In an emergency situation, the more time you can save and the more accurate you can be, the better.’

  Behind Gina, she could see Josh approaching. This new area of the emergency department, taken from part of the plaster room and a couple of offices, was still a mess a week after the transformation had begun. There were workmen installing ceiling tracks for X-ray equipment, putting pipes in for an oxygen supply, sorting lighting and electrical fittings for monitors and computers, and installing phone lines and the fixed furniture like the central nurses’ station.

  When this exciting project was finished, St Piran’s would have a six-bed observation unit where babies and children could stay for up to twenty-four hours without needing admittance to the main ward. They would also have two resuscitation areas. A main one that would have everything needed for a life or death emergency and a second one so that they could cope with more than one serious case at a time. The division between the two areas could be folded back, if necessary, to allow access to the state-of-the-art gear that would be going into the main part.

  The whole concept would be something that many hospitals would envy. Josh O’Hara would get the credit for its inception and execution. No doubt it would generate huge publicity and kudos and his already stellar career would skyrocket even further. If he was at all concerned about how the result would affect his own reputation, he wasn’t showing it right now. Josh looked relaxed and confident. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and a stethoscope was dangled carelessly around his neck.

  It was by no means the first time Josh had wandered out of the main department to see what was happening with the set-up of the new paediatric wing and, of course, Megan had been rattled by the close professional scrutiny that had so many deeply personal undertones but she was finally starting to relax.

  T
he tone of their interaction had been put into place on the first day. This was Josh’s territory. The career half of his perfect life. He clearly had no idea that his mother had suggested it wasn’t so perfect to Megan and he seemed determined to demonstrate how happy he was in his work.

  He talked easily and passionately about the new project, happy to discuss any queries or ideas Megan put forward. He interacted with his colleagues in a totally relaxed manner but she was left in no doubt about the respect he was given as head of department. And she’d seen him, in passing, treating patients. On one occasion holding someone’s hand to reassure them, on another leading a full resuscitation on a badly injured trauma victim.

  Megan had taken her cue from Josh. She was here as a colleague in a professional capacity, nothing more. To her relief, it wasn’t proving as hard as she’d expected. Nobody could know how aware she was of Josh’s proximity. How she could hear his voice across the whole department, even when he was speaking quietly. How she could sense his approach when she wasn’t expecting him or looking in the direction from which he was coming. Like she had when Gina had been showing her the poster.

  Megan acknowledged his approach with a tiny tilt of her head but continued talking to Gina.

  ‘There are so many variables with paediatric patients,’ she said, pleased to hear her voice sounding so steady despite the awareness of Josh infiltrating every cell of her body. ‘And size and weight can make a critical difference to what size ET tube you might want to grab or, say, how much diazepam you want to give to treat a seizure.’

  Josh was smiling as he stepped closer to Gina. He took the chart and unfurled it completely, holding it up against a wall to admire it. The movement made the muscles of his shoulders move under his shirt and the light caught the dusting of dark hair on his arms but Megan’s attention was caught by his hands. Watching those long, clever fingers as they traced the different text boxes on the colourful chart.

  ‘You can’t weigh a sick baby or toddler easily,’ he was telling Gina, ‘but you can measure their length. Look...’ He pointed to one side of a graph. ‘I’ve got a two-year-old who’s come in in status epilepticus and I want to give him an initial dose of IV diazepam. Here’s his age. A quick measure shows me he’s quite big for his age at just over a hundred centimetres so he’s close to twenty kilograms, and I can double-check the dose I want to give him here...’ Josh’s hand made a rapid swoop towards a new box containing drug dosage information. Something in Megan’s stomach mirrored the swoop.

  ‘Cool.’ But Gina was looking at Josh, not the chart, and the hero-worship was all too obvious.

  She was young, Megan noted. And very pretty. It was also quite obvious that Josh had no need to be lonely if he didn’t want to be. Not physically, anyway. Something much less pleasant than the previous sensation settled in her stomach. Deliberately, she dragged her gaze downwards and stared at the package in her hand. An ET tube. Cuffed. Smallest size.

  ‘Want me to stick the poster up now?’ Gina asked.

  ‘No.’ Megan’s tone was a lot crisper than she’d intended. She smiled at Gina to disguise her inward turbulence. ‘Put it on one of the trolleys in the corner of the observation room. I’ve got the mural painter in Resus at the moment, checking out how she can work around the fittings that are going in.’

  ‘Mural?’ Josh was finally looking at Megan directly as Gina moved away. She could feel it. ‘In the resus room?’

  She wanted to look up but resisted. Too hard to meet his gaze and still sound completely professional. So she reached for another handful of packages from the carton as though sorting ET tubes was too important a task to interrupt.

  She risked a very quick glance upward, so as not to appear rude. ‘Not as bright or complicated as the walls and ceiling in the observation area. I’m going for some leafy beanstalk plants with caterpillars on them and butterflies scattered over pale blue walls. A few on the ceiling too, where there’s any space.’

  ‘Sounds time consuming. I hope it won’t put us behind on the target to have all the radiology gear installed by tomorrow.’ She could hear the frown in Josh’s voice. She could also feel the intensity of the look he was giving her go up a notch or two. But when she looked up, she found that he was watching her hands, not her face.

  What was it about hands? She only had to let her gaze rest on his, even if they were perfectly relaxed and just curled on the table in the staffroom or on his thigh when he was sitting down on the couch in there for once, and it always gave her that odd curl of sensation. The way it had when she’d been caught watching him trace the information on that resuscitation chart. Was it the memory of touch?

  Did Josh get that by looking at her hands?

  Megan sucked in a quick breath. ‘It fits in with the overall philosophy of making this whole area as child friendly as possible,’ she said evenly. ‘You get conscious patients in Resus too, you know. Trauma victims, for example. If you can distract them from their pain and fear at all, it’s going to help not only the assessment but it can potentially improve their status.’

  It was quite true. Megan could almost hear Josh talking to the media about it when he was proudly showing off the new facility. Shock, from internal blood loss, he might say, is made worse by how fast the heart is beating. If you can calm a child down, you can slow the heart rate and potentially slow the rate of bleeding. People would lap it up. Everybody who contributed to the fundraising efforts would know that money hadn’t been wasted in decoration for its own sake. Parents would feel happier knowing they could take their child into a place that went the extra mile.

  Megan managed to smile as she looked up at Josh. ‘I’ll bet you could distract Brenna from something scary or sore by getting her interested in the big blue butterfly in the corner, or trying to find the yellow caterpillar with green spots on a leaf somewhere.’

  The mention of his daughter did the trick. The intensity with which he’d been watching Megan faded rapidly and Josh relaxed. He even smiled back. A real smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

  Something crinkled inside Megan yet again.

  Rebecca’s daughter, she reminded herself, not only Josh’s. The child that had been conceived when his marriage was supposed to be over.

  ‘I take your point,’ Josh conceded. ‘A pretty resus room is commendable. What are you doing there?’

  ‘Sorting airway supplies and deciding how we want to arrange them for ease of access. I’m thinking sets of the most commonly used sizes of ET tubes, cuffed and uncuffed, with guide wires but having appropriate LMAs and needle cricothyroidotomy kits with them as well to cover any complications.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Josh seemed to be listening intently and approving of what Megan was telling him.

  Except that there was just a hint of a far-away gaze in his eyes. As though he was listening to her voice and thinking of something quite different. Had he remembered that it was her birthday today? Did he even know? And if he did, was that too far into personal territory to be allowable in this new phase of their relationship? Or should that be ‘non-relationship’? Megan’s train of thought became scrambled enough for her to sigh inwardly and grasp at something to ground her in reality again.

  ‘How’s Claire this week?’

  ‘Doing really well, thanks.’ Yes, she could see the way Josh blinked and refocused. ‘Still getting tired easily but she’s managing fine, thanks to her granny group friends. Oh...I had a message for you, in fact.’

  ‘Oh?’ Good grief... She was definitely losing the ability to concentrate right now. Was that what Josh had been doing a moment ago? Being so aware of the sound of a voice that the words became almost meaningless?

  Funny how you could feel a voice as much as hear it.

  ‘They want to get involved in the Africa project. They’re thinking of starting a toy drive. Mum asked if I could ask you to come and talk to her as soon as possible and tell her the kind of things they should be collecting.’

  ‘Oh...’ Megan
bit her lip. ‘That’s very kind of them but, in general, toys wouldn’t be the first priority. The really useful things might be exercise books and pencils and paper and crayons and picture books and...’ Megan stopped, embarrassed. It was so easy to get carried away and start sounding over excited.

  But Josh was smiling. ‘That’s what you need to tell mum and her cronies. I’m sure they’d be delighted to collect whatever would be most useful.’

  ‘I’ll do that. Thanks for passing on the message.’ It might be an effort to turn away from that smile but Megan managed. She could even focus on the task at hand again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Josh stare at her a moment longer but then he, too, turned away, rolling up the resuscitation chart as he let his gaze roam around what was happening away from this corner of the project.

  The memories were all there, of course. And that powerful, indefinable pull between them, but it was all manageable. Under control.

  It was, Megan mused, like looking at something magical. A tropical pool, maybe, on the hottest of days. Still and deep and so cool looking, surrounded by lush greenery. You knew that if you slipped into the water the sensation would be such bliss you might die from the sheer pleasure of it but you also knew that there were vicious piranhas circling beneath that smooth surface and the pain would be unbearable. The will to survive was enough to keep your feet on dry ground, no matter how uncomfortable or hard that might be.

  Gina reappeared from the direction of the main department.

  ‘Dr O’Hara? You’re wanted. The condition of that little girl with asthma has deteriorated.’

  ‘Coming.’ Josh discarded the poster and began moving but his head turned. ‘You’ve been given practising privileges here again, haven’t you, Megan?’

  Megan nodded. Albert White had made sure that it was legally covered. What’s the use in having expertise like yours in the department, he’d said, if it couldn’t be used if needed?