by Morgan, Sara
‘If you need to use a phone, I can arrange it,’ Libby said quietly. They had plenty of parents on the ward who were separated or alone so she knew how hard it was when a child became ill.
‘We’ll see her in Theatre.’ With a friendly nod to Mrs Palmer and Melanie, Dave Jenner left the room with his team behind him.
‘You and I are going to play hairdressers,’ Libby said cheerfully, reaching into her pocket for a band. ‘I’m going to tie that lovely blonde hair of yours back. Is that OK?’
Melanie nodded and looked at Libby. ‘You’ve got very long hair. Like a princess.’
Libby smiled as she checked that the child’s name and hospital number were on her wrist strap. ‘That’s me. Princess Libby.’ She gathered all the notes and charts together and finally plucked up the courage to look at Andreas. ‘Shall we take her straight down?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve done the consent form and everything else is ready.’ He looked at Mrs Palmer. ‘Try not to worry. Mr Jenner is an exceptionally good surgeon.’ He sat down on the bed next to Melanie and took her hand.
‘Right, Melanie, this is what we’re going to do. There’s something in your tummy that’s making it bad, so we’re going to take it away and then you’ll feel better.’
Melanie stared at him, round eyed. ‘Will it hurt?’
Andreas shook his head. ‘No, because you’re going to be asleep for a short time. And if it’s sore when you wake up, we’ll give you some medicine.’ He glanced up as a porter arrived in the doorway, ready to take Melanie to Theatre. ‘Ah—this nice man is going to wheel you downstairs now.’
He stood up and watched while Libby flicked the brake on the bed with her foot and manoeuvred it carefully out of the door of the side ward.
Melanie’s face crumpled. ‘I want Mummy!’
‘Well, of course you do,’ Libby said quickly, moving out of the way so that the child could see her mother. ‘She’s right here, sweetheart.’
Libby glanced at Mrs Palmer who was white-faced and tense. ‘You can stay with her in the anaesthetic room until she falls asleep if you like.’
Mrs Palmer swallowed. ‘Yes—yes, I’d like that.’
She stayed close to her daughter as they wheeled the bed into the lift and pressed the button for Theatre.
In the anaesthetic room a blond man was preparing things for the operation and Libby stiffened.
Philip.
Why did it have to be Philip who was the anaesthetist?
‘This is Melanie Palmer,’ she said coolly, her tone detached and professional. ‘Melanie, this is Dr Graham. He’s going to help you go to sleep.’
‘Hi, there, Melanie.’ Philip smiled at the little girl with the false cheeriness that people so often adopted with children. Libby couldn’t help comparing him with Andreas who was a natural with children. He was honest and straightforward with them and had a warmth and strength that they seemed to find reassuring.
How could she ever have found Philip attractive?
Ignoring him as much as she could, she showed Mrs Palmer where to stand so that she could cuddle Melanie without getting in the way.
Philip wafted some gas under the child’s nose and gradually her eyes closed.
‘You can come back to the ward with me now,’ Libby said gently, taking Mrs Palmer by the arm as Philip carried on anaesthetising the child. ‘You need a cup of coffee and a sit-down. Mr Jenner will ring when he has some news for us.’
Philip glanced up. ‘I’ll pop up to the ward and see you soon, Libby.’ His gaze was meaningful. ‘We need to have a chat.’
Libby shot him a cold look but didn’t respond. She didn’t want to discuss her private life in front of patients or relatives. It wasn’t professional.
And she had no intention of having a chat with him. If he appeared on the ward, she’d make sure that she was unavailable.
Once Melanie was safely under the anaesthetic, they returned to the ward and Libby settled Mrs Palmer comfortably with a cup of coffee before going to check on Rachel.
‘Her colour is so much better,’ she said, pleased by the way the baby seemed to be responding to the antibiotics. ‘She’s definitely improving. Has she been taking any fluids?’
Alison nodded. ‘She took a whole bottle from me at eleven o’clock. She seemed really thirsty. It’s the first time she’s fed properly for days.’
‘That’s great news.’ Libby smiled as she checked the baby’s temperature. ‘That’s come right down, too. If she carries on like this we’ll be able to take that drip out soon.’
‘Will she need to carry on with the antibiotics?’
‘Yes, but she can take them as medicine. She doesn’t have to have them into a vein,’ Libby explained, charting the temperature and noting the baby’s respirations. ‘Once we’ve taken that drip out she can have a trip to our playroom and we’ll see if we can get her interested in some of our toys.’
It was after lunch when Melanie Palmer returned from Theatre.
‘They took out her appendix and irrigated her peritoneal cavity,’ Andreas told Libby as they settled the little girl back onto the ward. ‘We’ll continue the antibiotics and keep her nil by mouth until she’s got bowel sounds.’
‘Was it the GP’s fault?’ Libby asked softly. ‘Should he have spotted it?’
Andreas pulled a face. ‘In my opinion her clinical condition should have alerted him to the fact that it was something serious, but appendicitis in young children is notoriously hard to diagnose. Children tend to present late and a high percentage perforate before they get to see a doctor. In children under the age of three appendicitis is hardly ever diagnosed before perforation, but in her case…’ He gave a shrug. ‘Hard to say whether her GP could have diagnosed it earlier. I think he should have had a high index of suspicion but it’s immaterial now.’
Libby was only too aware that Andreas had made his diagnosis within minutes of examining the child. But, then, she’d already seen enough of him to know that he was a very skilled paediatrician.
What with Rachel and Melanie, it had been a bad couple of days for GPs.
Mrs Palmer hurried into the room, her expression anxious. ‘Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine. She’s had painkillers down in Theatre so she’s sleeping now,’ Libby told her. ‘We’ll keep an eye on her and if she needs more, she can have them.’
Andreas explained the operation to Mrs Palmer and then moved towards the door. ‘I’m just going to A and E to see a patient but you can bleep me if you need me.’
He walked out of the room and Mrs Palmer looked after him wistfully. ‘He’s a very good doctor.’
‘He is, isn’t he?’ Libby agreed softly. ‘He’s a very good doctor indeed.’
Looks and a brain, she thought gloomily. A lethal combination.
She was in the storeroom towards the end of her shift when Andreas strolled up behind her.
‘About this date you owe me…’ His tone was smooth and enticing and she shivered with a response so powerful that she was forced to snatch in a gasp of air.
He was just so good-looking it wasn’t fair. It would have been so easy to persuade herself that he’d be different.
Severely shaken by her own thoughts, she made a supreme effort to look bored. ‘What date, Dr Christakos?’
Before he could reply, Philip’s voice came from behind him. ‘I was looking for Libby.’
Libby tensed in horror and backed away further into the storeroom but it was too late. He’d seen her.
Dealing Andreas a frosty glare, Philip walked into the room. ‘This obviously isn’t the place to say what needs to be said,’ he muttered stiffly, ‘so I just wanted to check you’re still all right for the ball in three weeks’ time.’
Libby’s mouth fell open.
Did he seriously think that she’d still go to the ball with him after what had happened? The nerve of the man! Did he have no morals?
Wrestling with her temper, she struggled to find her voice. ‘No, Dr Gra
ham,’ she croaked shakily, ‘I’m not all right for the ball.’
Philip frowned and looked pointedly at Andreas. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a conversation with Libby on my own.’
Andreas didn’t budge an inch, his usually warm dark eyes suddenly cold. ‘I mind.’
Philip coloured slightly. ‘We have personal matters to discuss—’
‘We have nothing whatsoever to discuss,’ Libby said tartly, relieved that Andreas hadn’t abandoned her to her fate. ‘And I most certainly won’t be going to the ball with you.’
‘Oh…’ Philip looked slightly taken aback. ‘But we agreed—’
‘If you’re short of a partner, I’m sure your wife would be happy to oblige,’ Libby said sweetly, aware that Andreas had leaned his broad shoulders against the wall and was watching the encounter with an ominous expression on his handsome face.
Philip coloured unattractively. ‘I’ve already explained to you that we’re separated,’ he muttered, and Libby lifted an eyebrow.
‘Separated?’ Sparks of anger lit her blue eyes and she curled her fists into her palms. ‘Well, you certainly didn’t look separated when I saw you the other morning.’
Philip gritted his teeth. ‘I can explain, Libby. Listen to me—’
‘No, you listen to me.’ Libby took a step towards him, deriving considerable satisfaction from the fact that he backed away from her. ‘You are a scumbag, Philip,’ she said tightly. ‘And if you want to talk to someone, I suggest you talk to your wife.’
Philip flinched. ‘I can tell that you’re angry and I can understand that you’d rather not go to the ball in the circumstances,’ he said stiffly. ‘It’s going to take you a while to get over this.’
Libby’s mouth fell open. ‘Believe me, I’m over it,’ she said acidly. ‘And as for the ball, I never said I wasn’t going. I’m definitely going. I’m just not going with you.’
Philip looked first taken aback and then horrified, obviously envisaging embarrassing scenes. ‘You’re never going to find anyone else to go with you at this late stage.’
Making an instantaneous decision, Libby flashed a dazzling smile at Andreas. ‘I’m going with Andreas.’
She stepped closer to him and gazed into his eyes with all the adoration of someone who’d met the love of her life. ‘You did manage to get the evening off, didn’t you, darling?’
Andreas didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course,’ he drawled, lowering his head and kissing her lingeringly on the lips.
Libby’s brain ceased to function and she melted against him. She forgot Philip and she forgot the ball. She forgot that she was determined to resist Andreas. She was aware only of sensation. Delicious, tantalising, brain-swamping sensation.
And then Andreas lifted his head.
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles and gave a lopsided smile. ‘Libby and I are hoping that there’ll be fireworks,’ he purred, laughter in his eyes as he looked down at her.
Stunned by the overwhelming chemistry between them, Libby flushed scarlet and Philip glowered at them both.
‘Well, if that’s the way you want to play it.’ He turned on his heel and strode briskly out of the ward without looking back.
‘You didn’t have to kiss me,’ Libby muttered, peering out of the room to make sure that Philip had left.
Andreas narrowed his eyes and surveyed her with all the lazy confidence of a man who knew he had the upper hand.
‘I was trying to make it convincing,’ he said helpfully, and she managed a scowl, even though her heart rate was still behaving strangely.
‘Don’t get any funny ideas, Dr Christakos. It’s no big deal. I just needed someone to go with and you happened to be standing there.’
A lazy smile settled on his handsome face. ‘Of course.’
‘If I don’t turn up, it will look as though I’m at home, pining for him, and I can’t have him thinking that.’
‘Of course you can’t.’
She glared at him. ‘This is not a date.’
‘Of course it isn’t.’
‘It’s just two colleagues on an evening out. Very platonic.’ She bit her lip. ‘No kissing or anything.’
His dark eyes gleamed with humour. ‘No kissing?’
‘Definitely no kissing,’ she muttered, dragging her eyes away from his and concentrating on finding the dressing packs she needed. ‘So, do you want to come?’ She bit her lip, wondering why on earth she’d invited him. Talk about torturing herself. ‘It’s in three weeks’ time. If you’re busy it doesn’t matter. I can ask someone else.’
Someone who didn’t kiss like him.
Someone who didn’t turn her brain to porridge.
He stepped closer and touched her flushed cheek with a lean finger. ‘I’ll take you to the ball, Cinderella, but I’m not promising to keep it platonic.’
Her stomach flipped over. ‘Andreas—’
‘Every time you see Philip, we seem to kiss,’ he pointed out with impeccable logic, ‘so we may as well both accept the way it’s going to be. If we’re spending a whole evening together and you’re intending to convince Philip that you’re over him, then I predict a significant amount of kissing.’
Libby closed her eyes.
What was she doing?
For a girl who was trying to avoid men, she was doing a pretty lousy job!
She suddenly decided that she needed an urgent talk with her sister.
Chapter 5
They were both on a late shift the following morning and met for a late breakfast in a café next to the river.
‘Hi.’ Libby dropped her bag onto the padded chair and stooped to kiss her sister. ‘You look knackered.’
Katy gave a wry smile. ‘Thanks for the compliment.’
Libby looked at her closely. ‘Are you ill?’
‘No.’ Katy dropped her eyes and rummaged in her handbag for her sunglasses. ‘Just tired.’
‘Hmm.’ Libby frowned and looked thoughtfully at her sister but before she could question her further, the waiter arrived to take their order. ‘Two regular cappuccinos, please. And a chocolate brownie. I’m starving.’
Katy glanced shyly at the waiter. ‘Actually, I don’t want a cappuccino. Could I just have a mint tea, please?’
The waiter gave a friendly nod and Libby’s eyes narrowed.
‘Mint tea? All right, now I know there’s definitely something going on. You always drink cappuccino. You’re addicted to cappuccino.’
A soft flush touched Katy’s perfect complexion. ‘I’m just a bit off coffee at the moment.’
Libby sat back in her chair and stared at her sister. ‘You’re pregnant.’
Katy sank her teeth into her lower lip and adjusted her glasses. ‘Libby, I don’t—’
‘I’m your sister,’ Libby reminded her softly, leaning forward in her chair. ‘Why can’t you tell me?’
Katy sighed and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. ‘Because it’s very early days and I’m scared,’ she admitted finally. ‘I lost the other baby…’
‘And you’re afraid that you might lose this one too,’ Libby finished, suddenly understanding why Katy had been reluctant to confide in her. ‘Have you told Jago yet?’
‘Last night.’
Libby grinned. ‘I bet he was over the moon.’
Katy rolled her eyes and blushed slightly. ‘You know Jago—macho Spaniard to the last. You’d think it was his achievement alone. A public declaration of his manhood and virility.’
Libby laughed. ‘How many weeks gone are you?’
‘Only six.’ Katy let out a long breath. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? Getting excited so early. Something will probably go wrong.’
Detecting a hint of tears in her sister’s eyes, Libby leaned forward and squeezed her hand. ‘Nothing will go wrong, angel. It will be fine.’
‘But the last one—’
‘You fell, Katy,’ Libby reminded her softly. ‘You had a really bad fall. And it was more than el
even years ago. That’s a long time.’
‘Do you think so?’ Katy looked at her, desperate for reassurance, and Libby grinned.
‘You’re the doctor, honey. You should be telling yourself these things. Have you spoken to Alex? He’s convinced he’s God’s gift to pregnant women at the moment.’
Katy shook her head. ‘Not yet, but Jago and I are meeting him for supper on Friday. Any chance of you coming?’
Libby shook her head. ‘I’m working. And, anyway, Alex isn’t my favourite person at the moment. We’ve had a sort of falling-out. I don’t think I could spend an evening in his company without physically abusing him.’
Katy sighed. ‘I knew that it was a mistake for him to move into the flat when I moved out. The two of you are always arguing about something. What is it this time?’
‘He didn’t buy me at the auction,’ Libby said darkly, and Katy’s eyes widened.
‘Was he supposed to?’
‘Yes.’ Libby scowled at the memory. ‘I didn’t want to be forced to go on a date.’
‘And he forgot?’
‘Of course he didn’t forget.’ Libby’s mouth tightened. ‘You know Alex. Why miss an excuse to wind me up? Don’t worry. I’m going to the ball so we can all get together then and I’ll tread on his toes.’
Katy stopped with her cup in mid-air. ‘You’re going to the ball? But I thought—’
‘I know, I know.’ Libby pulled a face. ‘I sort of trapped myself into it.’
Katy put her cup back down on the table so hard that the tea slopped into the saucer. ‘You’re not going with Philip?’
‘No!’ Libby gave a shudder. ‘I most certainly am not going with Philip. I wasn’t going at all but then he implied that I was obviously too broken-hearted to go out so I was forced into a corner. If I stay at home he’ll think I’m pining for him and there’s no way I want him thinking that. Arrogant rat.’
‘So are you going with the gorgeous Greek who bid a fortune for you at the auction?’
Libby stiffened. ‘How do you know about that? Who’s been talking?’
‘The whole hospital,’ Katy told her, her eyes amused. ‘And can you blame them? He paid one thousand pounds for you, Lib! Everyone else was bidding tiny amounts.’