Would it ever stop?
If she left—if she went back to the UK—would he finally feel his body chill out and stop reacting to the thought of her?
But I don’t want her to go back to the UK.
Perhaps they both needed some space? She was living in his house. She was at his place of work. What if he found her another place to stay? He had lots of friends who might have a spare room or a couch...
But did he really want the mother of his baby sleeping on someone’s couch? The answer was a resounding no. She deserved the comfort of her own bed.
Maybe I should be the one to move out?
He thought of perhaps spending a few nights in the on-call rooms. He’d done it before. And the hospital always got busier around the Christmas period—especially as the big day got closer. It would be a good reason to stay there without her thinking that he was avoiding her. And when he had to spend time with her he could take her to places that didn’t involve being near a bedroom. Show her the local schools and nurseries. Give her an idea of what it would be like for their baby to live in Snowy Peak as it grew up. Prove to her that there was a future here.
It seemed reasonable to him. It certainly seemed like a plan. And he felt badly in need of one of those.
Kristjan draped his towel around his shoulders and brushed off some of the snow. Three days till Christmas. Their first Christmas together, the two of them alone. After this there would be a baby to consider.
He hoped that they would at least spend it sitting around the same table. The thought that they might not be able to...pained him. But he had to be realistic. He was getting too close to her. Letting his feelings for her overwhelm him. If he lost her and the baby now, how would that feel?
He stared at the snow-covered mountain.
No. It was already too much loss to contemplate. He couldn’t lose them. No matter how damn scary it was to keep her close.
* * *
‘He’s had a fever for a couple of days, with a cold, but today his temperature has been sky-high, and he’s all sleepy, so...’
‘You did the right thing, bringing him in.’ Kristjan reassured the mother as he grabbed hold of an electronic thermometer to check the baby boy’s temperature for himself.
He put on a single use cover and placed the probe in the boy’s ear. It beeped and he checked the temperature. Thirty-nine point six.
‘Hmm...that’s very high. Just over a hundred and three. Has he had any rashes that you’ve noticed?’
‘Not really. One or two spots, but...’
‘Where?’
‘On his belly.’
The baby was ten months old and currently wearing only a sleeveless vest over his nappy. Kristjan lifted the clothing and noticed a bit of a mottled discolouration on the baby’s skin that didn’t look good.
‘Has he been having plenty of wet nappies?’
‘Not as many as he usually does—but then he hasn’t been drinking as much. What do you think it is? A virus?’
He hoped that was all it was, but right now Kristjan was worried about sepsis—a life-threatening reaction to an infection...the immune system overreacting. The baby was breathing quite rapidly. But he didn’t want to alarm the mother unless he was sure.
‘Was he born at term? After a healthy pregnancy?’
‘He was born a month early.’
‘Right. And he’s up to date with his vaccinations?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay. I’m worried that his body is overreacting to an infection, so what I’m going to do is admit him and give him strong antibiotics and some fluids.’
‘You think it’s serious?’
‘It could be. It might be sepsis. And if it is then I want us to be fighting it as soon as we can, okay?’
‘Okay.’
The mum looked worried, but she was remaining calm, which was great.
‘I’m admitting him right now. A nurse will come in to start the antibiotics and she’ll monitor him until we can get him up to a ward.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
‘No problem. You did a good thing bringing him in.’
He headed from the cubicle to chart the case immediately, to prescribe the antibiotics and to call up to not only the children’s ward but also the intensive care unit, to make sure they had space if necessary—which they did. Then he asked a nurse to take a blood sample, so they could send it off for some rapid testing.
‘I want observations every fifteen minutes.’
The nurse nodded.
‘Good morning!’ The voice came from behind him.
He looked up. Merry. ‘Good morning.’
‘You were gone when I woke up.’
She leaned in over the counter and he breathed in her perfume. It did some heady things to his senses, and it was all he could do not to reach over the counter and pull her closer.
‘I went for a swim and then I came in early.’
‘Thanks for leaving me some breakfast.’
Oh. He’d forgotten about that.
‘No problem.’
He wished he’d been there to feed it to her. Mouthful by mouthful, teasing those lips of hers with strawberries and other delightful things.
He watched her look around them before leaning in closer and whispering, ‘I had a good time last night.’
So did I. ‘Me too.’
‘And we’re okay?’
He smiled. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?’
‘Good. I thought I might cook you dinner tonight? And for dessert we could...’
Her voice trailed off and he knew what she was implying.
She meant sex. More sex. And normally he wasn’t the type of guy who would turn down sex with a woman he really wanted.
‘Sounds good. I’d love to stop and think about that a bit more thoroughly, but I’ve got a query sepsis case I need to process.’
She nodded, understanding instantly. ‘Don’t let me stop you.’
He grabbed the notes and headed off in the direction of the young baby’s cubicle, to update the mother and get the antibiotics on board. He didn’t need to do it himself—the nurse was more than capable—but he needed to get away. To keep his head clear and in the zone for treating patients.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted.
* * *
In her lunch hour, Merry decided to go Christmas shopping. Christmas was only a couple of days away, and she felt she needed to get Kristjan a present or two. He’d done so much for her—giving her a place to stay, a job to go to—and he was still doing his best to get her to stay in Iceland.
He deserved a gift. Something thoughtful. Something that would make him smile. And perhaps after dinner tonight she would give him the best present of all...
It didn’t take her long to find a shop that sold fancy underwear. Silk. Lace. She tried on one or two pieces before making her selection, and then headed off to get him something that he wouldn’t be allowed to see until the twenty-fifth of December.
It was difficult. She wasn’t sure what to get him. He had bookshelves, but they were mainly filled with medical books, and he played his music through a speaker, so there wasn’t any music collection she could plough through. She knew he dressed well, and enjoyed swimming, his job...
Maybe something for The Elf Foundation?
A thought struck her, but she knew it wasn’t something she could get sorted in a lunch hour. She needed to head back to the hospital, but when she got back she’d search the internet for someone to help her with her idea and make a few calls, put it into motion...
She felt very happy with her decision, and couldn’t wait to see Kristjan’s face when he found out. Now all she had to do was get through the afternoon, cook dinner, and then let him unwrap her like a very special present!
But first she had a
list of patients. She picked up the chart at the top of the pile, checked that Agnes was free to accompany her, and then headed through to a cubicle, to see a woman sitting on the examination bed next to a little boy who was reading a book.
‘Hello. I’m Dr Bell. What’s brought you in here today?’
‘I couldn’t get in to see my local doctor, so I’ve brought my son here. He’s got all these bruises. Look at them! On his arms...his legs. You should see the ones he has on his back! He wasn’t like that when I dropped him off at his father’s house a couple of days ago.’
Merry understood the subtext. This mother was suggesting that her ex-partner was either neglectful, or that he was abusing the boy. Well...it could be either of those—or neither. It could be something medical, she knew, but clearly the boy’s mother hadn’t considered that.
‘I want you to take photographs. I’ve got some on my phone, but I want this reported!’
‘Okay...well, let’s take a look first, shall we?’
The boy’s name was Tómas and he was six years of age. Old enough to co-operate, if he wasn’t too scared.
‘Hey, Tómas. Can I have a look at you?’ she asked.
The boy nodded and put down his book.
‘What are you reading?’
‘It’s about pirates. And a dragon.’
‘Wow! Sounds amazing! You like to read?’
‘Yes.’
‘Me, too! But I can’t remember the last book I read that had a dragon in it. Or a pirate, for that matter. Is he a good pirate?’
‘He’s okay.’
The boy really did have some bruises on him, but they didn’t look like hand marks, or the kind of bruises he’d get if someone had held him tightly. They were mostly small. The kind of bruises she’d expect a rough and tumble young boy to have. But he did have a lot, and the one on his side, near his back, was quite big.
‘Did you fall over at your dad’s?’
‘No.’
‘Did you play any sports?’
‘We went ice-skating.’
‘Sounds fun. And you didn’t fall over there?’
‘I nearly fell over. I hit the side of the rink when someone crashed into me.’
‘Uh-huh...’
It could just be a collision injury, but Merry’s sixth sense was tingling, telling her something wasn’t right here. The boy looked quite pale, and he was a little underweight. If this was abuse, she’d be surprised.
‘How have you been feeling lately, Tómas? Your usual self?’
‘He’s been tired,’ the mother answered. ‘Like he’s got no energy. He wasn’t very keen on going to his dad’s...he wanted to stay home.’
More subtext. The mum was willing her to understand her suspicions.
‘Is that right? You’ve been feeling tired? Sleepy?’ asked Merry.
‘Stuff hurts.’
‘What stuff?’
Tómas shrugged. ‘Everything.’
Merry looked at his mum. ‘Do you brush his teeth for him?’
‘No, he does it himself. He’s always been very good at that.’
‘When you brush your teeth, Tómas, do you notice any bleeding?’
‘Only if he does it too hard,’ the mum interrupted.
Merry felt around the boy’s neck, checking for swollen lymph nodes, and found a couple in the boy’s neck. This was definitely something.
‘And he’s normally fit and well?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Okay. The nurse is going to perform a blood test. It’s just a small needle—what we call a butterfly needle—and it won’t hurt at all.’
‘What are you checking for?’ asked the mother.
‘I want to check his red and white blood cells, and then I think we may need to get a haematologist to check the results, just to be on the safe side.’
‘And then you’ll report it?’
‘Not yet. Let’s see the results of the blood test first, okay?’
The boy’s mum nodded reluctantly and Merry watched as Agnes took a sample of blood.
Tómas was very good. He was fascinated by the cold spray the nurse applied to the crook of his elbow and he even watched the needle go in.
‘Is that my blood?’ he asked.
‘It is.’
‘Wow!’
She labelled the bottles, marked the request form to check for a range of conditions, and then placed a plaster on his arm, once the bleeding had stopped. It took a little longer than normal, but she tried not to let it show how that worried her. If she was right—and she sincerely hoped that she wasn’t—then this wonderful little boy had a type of leukaemia.
‘Okay, you can stay here. I’ll just get these sent off to the path lab. Tómas? When I come back, I want you to tell me what’s happened in your story.’
He smiled at her rather wanly. ‘I will.’
Merry closed the curtain, her heart filling with dread as she popped the blood into the shuttle that would send the sample directly to the lab within seconds. When it had whooshed away in the tube, she sat down at the doctors’ desk to write up her notes.
‘How’s it going?’ Kristjan appeared from around the corner.
‘Not great. How was your case? Was it sepsis?’
‘No. I think it’s just a nasty virus, but we’re keeping the baby in to monitor him. What are you dealing with?’
She sighed and sagged in her chair. ‘I’m hoping it’s not a case of acute leukaemia.’
Kristjan frowned. ‘I’m sorry... Need any help with it?’
‘No. I’ve got the bloods sent off. But... You know when you have that feeling in your gut?’
‘I do.’
‘Well, I’m hoping mine is wrong.’
‘Did you mark the tests as urgent?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Need a hug?’
She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Yeah.’
Kristjan came from around to her side of the desk and wrapped her in a huge bear hug, pressing her gently against his chest so that she felt warm and protected and soothed by his presence. It was nice. It was very nice. And she really didn’t want him to let go. How quickly she had begun to love being in his arms.
‘Do we all get one of those?’ asked Agnes, with a smile.
‘If you need one,’ answered Kristjan.
Merry inhaled his scent one last time, then pushed herself reluctantly away. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem.’
‘I guess all I can do is wait, huh?’
‘And keep your fingers crossed.’
She nodded as he walked away to carry on with his own work, and for a brief moment she crossed her fingers and looked up at the big fat Santa ornament on the doctors’ desk.
‘If you’ve got anything to do with this whatsoever,’ she whispered urgently, ‘then please, please, I beg of you, give that family a happy Christmas.’
She wouldn’t know if her plea was answered. At least not for a little while.
And when the haematologist himself came down with the results, a grim look on his face, Merry knew that not all prayers were answered.
‘You need to do a bone marrow biopsy,’ she said.
She just knew.
He nodded, face still grim.
‘Okay. Let’s go and tell them the news.’
CHAPTER NINE
TÓMAS’S CASE AFFECTED her all afternoon. It was horrible to hear such a life-changing diagnosis at any time of life, but that young... And so close to Christmas...
Merry wondered what kind of a time the family would have, knowing what their youngest child would face after the festive season.
Remission induction to start with, to kill the harmful cells in Tómas’s bone marrow, restore the balance and hopefully relieve some of the symptoms. This would be done
through blood transfusions, mostly, but it would leave the boy with no immune system.
Then there would be something they called ‘consolidation,’ to kill any remaining leukaemia cells, and finally maintenance, when he would receive regular chemotherapy treatments to stop the leukaemia from coming back.
His little body would come under attack from all the medication they’d have to give him, as well as steroids for a couple of years, but hopefully the treatment would work, and he wouldn’t suffer any complications.
He and his family had a long road ahead of them, and as she’d worked Merry wondered how she would feel if her child ever got terribly sick like that? How would she cope? Would she feel powerless? At the mercy of other doctors and their opinions?
It was something she always tried to keep at the forefront of her mind when she dealt with patients and their families—how would she feel to be receiving this news and how would she want the doctors to speak to her? And now she was thinking would it be better to hear that news alone, or with Kristjan?
He would be strong, no doubt. He would support her, do everything that was needed. And, if either she or their child needed it, he’d be there to give one of those special hugs.
She could see so many benefits to being with him, but it didn’t boil down just to pros and cons at the end of the day, did it? It came down to feelings, and hers were all over the place—betraying her, making her want him, making her desire more than they currently had. It was confusing. Dizzying.
She was dreaming of having the fairy tale. Of walking into the sunset with him. Getting her happy-ever-after. Didn’t she deserve one after all this time?
So she was hopeful about the situation between herself and Kristjan. They’d turned a corner, hadn’t they? Grown closer. Taken a big step in their relationship. And she knew that if she was going to enjoy this evening—which she very much hoped she would—she would have to shake off her feelings about Tómas. He had been sent home now, but would be back the next day for his bone marrow biopsy. All she could do was hope they’d caught it early and that treatment would be effective.
She got home ahead of Kristjan and began preparing their evening meal. She’d decided to try and make something traditional to Iceland. Something heart-warming that would show him that she cared and had made an effort.
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