Читать книгу 200 Harley Street - Lynne Marshall - Страница 18

INSTEAD OF WORKING out what she would be wearing for the ball or getting a pedicure and her nails done, Lizzie’s weekend was spent in Brighton.

‘I’m going to a ball next weekend,’ Lizzie told her mum, chatting away as she sorted out her mother’s clothes for the week.

‘Do you hear that, Faye?’ her father, Thomas, asked. ‘Lizzie’s going to a ball in London.’

But Faye wasn’t interested in anything other than the thought that someone had taken her watch.

‘It’s being fixed, Mum,’ Lizzie attempted again, but Faye wouldn’t accept that. Today everyone was a thief, including Lizzie—who she thought was a stranger rifling through her wardrobe in broad daylight.

‘It’s Lizzie,’ Thomas said when Faye angrily confronted her.

‘Mum, I’m just trying to sort out your clothes,’ Lizzie explained patiently.

‘I’m not your mother,’ Faye shouted, and then walked off and Thomas followed her. It was normal that she didn’t recognise her, Lizzie more than knew that, and the anger and aggression was part of her illness too, but it hurt to see her mother so angry and fearful, and to not even be recognised was an agony that couldn’t always be rationalised away.

‘She’s having a cup of tea with the nurses.’ Thomas came back and gave Lizzie a smile. ‘So, you’re going out next week to a ball?’

‘It’s a work function,’ Lizzie said, ‘but it sounds very glamorous.’

‘Are you going with anyone?’

‘My boss.’

‘And does your boss have a name?’

‘Leo,’ Lizzie said. ‘Leo Hunter.’ She saw her dad’s eyebrow rise and Lizzie frowned but then realised that, of course, her dad would have heard of Leo. Even before Faye had taken ill they had lived their lives through magazines and newspapers.

‘Watch yourself, Lizzie.’

‘Leo’s lovely.’

‘Hmmph,’ her dad said. ‘He comes from bad stock. I remember reading about his mother. Above all the rules everyone else lived by, out partying …’

‘It’s a work do.’

‘Even so,’ her dad huffed. ‘I don’t want you getting hurt again. I remember Peter …’

Lizzie bit her tongue. Peter had been her boyfriend nearly ten years ago and, yes, the break-up had hurt but life hurt sometimes whether or not you lived it.

Her father just chose to live his life reading about everyone else.

‘Why don’t you come over to see the Hewitts when Mum’s resting this afternoon?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Just for a coffee.’ The Hewitts were old family friends who ran the bed and breakfast Lizzie stayed at when visiting, but her dad shook his head. ‘What about a walk on the beach, then?’ Lizzie attempted. ‘It would be nice to get some fresh air.’

‘I like to stay close to your mum.’

‘I know but …’

Lizzie gave in. Even a small walk was a major event for her father. It was a long weekend and a depressing one. She loved her parents dearly and the Hewitts were lovely people too, but they were almost as locked in the past as her parents and Lizzie was guilty with relief at how nice it felt to be back in London. As she headed to 200 Harley Street on Monday morning she was certainly looking forward to work, and, even though she was trying hard to deny it, she was also looking forward to seeing Leo.

‘How was your weekend?’ Leo asked her as she took off her scarf and coat.

‘It was fine,’ she answered. ‘How was yours?’

‘I need another one to recover from it.’ He yawned.

‘Any house calls today?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Nope.’

‘You never did tell me how things went the other evening on your house call,’ she fished.

‘I deliberately didn’t.’

‘Please …’ Lizzie whimpered. ‘I have to know where you went.’

‘I’ll tell you if you tell me who did your surgery.’

She poked out her tongue and then stopped because banter was just too easy with Leo and it was starting to look a lot like flirting.

Leo had actually had an unusually quiet weekend. Yes, there had been drinks after work on Friday and he’d been out to a very glamorous dinner on Saturday but, unusually for Leo, he’d returned to his apartment alone and on Sunday he’d found himself racking his brains for a reason, or rather an excuse, to ring Lizzie.

It would be a terrible idea, Leo knew that. Especially as he didn’t yet know the full extent of her friendship with Ethan. Yes, his brother had said it had all been professional but Ethan seemed terribly keen to look out for her.

All morning the question built for Leo. He simply could not get Lizzie out of his mind and, as lunchtime approached, Leo came up with a very simple solution.

He’d just ask her, Leo decided.

But not here.

‘Do you want to go out for lunch?’ Leo didn’t mince his words, he was very used to asking women to join him, it was Lizzie’s response that he wasn’t used to.

‘Er, no,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ve got plans …’ She frantically searched for an excuse because she was already struggling to keep things professional. ‘I’m going to the zoo.’

‘The zoo?’

‘I’ve been meaning to since I got here. It’s so close …’

‘It’s freezing,’ Leo said, ‘you won’t see anything.’

‘How do you know?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Have you ever been to the zoo in January?’

‘ No.’

‘Then don’t comment on what you don’t know.’ Lizzie said. ‘It will be nice without the crowds. Anyway, I’m not going to look at the animals today, I’m taking out a membership.’

She turned to go and Leo watched her, saw the curve of her bottom and with two words he confirmed the mood in the room.

‘Buttock implants?’

It was a little game they’d invented—Leo was still trying to guess what work Lizzie had done, but even he inwardly cringed as he said it. He was either outright flirting with Lizzie or being completely inappropriate with a colleague, and he held his breath as he leapt over the line, wondering what her reaction would be.

It surprised him.

More pointedly, it surprised Lizzie.

‘Maybe!’ She didn’t turn around, just paused momentarily and gave a little wiggle that sent all his blood rushing south··

What on earth was that?

Lizzie almost ran to her office and retrieved her coat, astounded at her own brazenness, asking herself how, with one smouldering look, he so easily tripped the switch.

No! she told herself as she took a taxi to the zoo.

No, no, no, she thought as she filled in the forms and paid for her membership, which would give her unlimited visits for the year.

The zoo actually served as a very pertinent reminder.

Do not feed the lions.

Especially one called Leo.

‘How was the zoo?’ Leo asked when she returned an hour later.

‘I’ll tell you when I’ve been properly.’

‘Leo …’ Gwen knocked on the open door. ‘I’ve got Francesca on the telephone—she’s terribly upset. I can’t make sense …’

‘Put her through,’ Leo said, dismissing them both, but a few minutes later he found Lizzie and brought her up to speed.

‘Francesca had surgery on Friday and she thinks it’s infected. She’s completely hysterical and she won’t go back to the surgeon who did the operation and she’s refusing to go to Kate’s. I’ve told her to get into a taxi and come here. I’ll see her in one of the treatment rooms. She won’t be long.’

Francesca wasn’t.

Gwen went out to help her in and Leo gave a small eye roll to Lizzie. ‘Hold onto that while I examine her, please.’

‘Hold onto what?’

‘My ego,’ Leo said. ‘And you have my permission to kick me if I look like I’m about to say, “I told you so”.’

In fact, he was nothing but kind to her.

Francesca was absolutely distraught and sat huddled behind dark glasses and with a scarf around her face.

‘Please don’t be cross with me, Leo.’

‘Why would I be cross?’

‘Disappointed, then.’

‘I’m not a parent for a reason, Francesca. I don’t do guilt trips.’

‘No, you don’t,’ Francesca conceded.

‘Tell me what happened.’

‘I had surgery on Friday; he was able to fit me in the next day as he had a cancellation. I didn’t go to just anyone. He comes highly recommended …’ She gave the surgeon’s name.

‘Geoff’s a fantastic surgeon,’ Leo said. ‘Right, I need to take a look at it.’

Lizzie helped Francesca with her glasses and scarf as she told them the work she’d had done. ‘He said it was just a small lift and some fillers but now the wound is oozing.’

Leo washed his hands as Lizzie checked Francesca’s temperature and pulse—both were high—then Leo sat on a stool opposite Francesca and examined her face very carefully.

‘I agree it looks terrible at the moment but …’ As Francesca started sobbing Leo overrode her. ‘From what I can see, Geoff has done a good job.’

Francesca’s eyes snapped open.

‘I wouldn’t have done it, but, then, I possibly go overboard on subtle and natural, but he hasn’t gone over the top. There’s a lot of swelling and a lot of bruising but when that all settles, I think it will be far better than you’re now expecting.’

Not for the first time, Leo surprised her—he didn’t criticise the other surgeon. If anything, he spoke well of his work and, as promised, he didn’t take Francesca on a guilt trip, he just slowly calmed the terrified woman down.

‘What about the infection?’ Francesca asked.

‘Unfortunate,’ Leo said, ‘but it happens sometimes …’ He took a swab. ‘I want to have a listen to your chest …’ He took her pulse for quite a long time and then looked at Lizzie. ‘Actually, could you help Francesca into a gown? I’d like to examine her properly.’

‘Leo …’ Francesca shook her head to decline but Leo was adamant.

‘I’m not arguing with you again, Francesca. I want to examine you and I’ll be honest—I think you need a couple of days in hospital.’ When Francesca started to argue Leo pushed on. ‘My only criticism, and this isn’t just Geoff, but people seem to think surgery like this is a day procedure.’

‘Leo, I don’t want to go to hospital. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.’

He would not be swayed. Buzzing through to Gwen, he asked her to order a private ambulance for the short trip to Kate’s as, behind a curtain, Lizzie helped Francesca into a gown and onto the examination table.

‘I’m a stupid old fool,’ Francesca said, as Lizzie pulled off her boots, but a very agile Francesca needed no help swinging her legs up.

‘I think you’re amazing,’ Lizzie admitted.

‘You just say that to be kind.’

‘No.’ Lizzie shook her head, forgetting that Leo was listening as she did her best to put Francesca at ease. ‘Even before my mum got ill, my parents were always acting older than they were—always set in their ways. My father won’t even go for a walk. At least you do things,’ Lizzie said. ‘You live your life and make mistakes …’ She said it so nicely and gently that even Francesca smiled. ‘I think you’re glamorous and wonderful and everything I’d like to be when I’m—’

‘Careful!’ came Francesca’s friendly warning.

‘Fifty-two,’ Lizzie said, and both women laughed.

‘What’s wrong with your mum?’ Francesca asked, but just as Lizzie went to answer, the other woman started to cough. ‘Here,’ Lizzie said, ‘let me help you sit up.’

‘I can’t …’ Francesca was struggling to get in air.

And just at the moment Lizzie thought that she had a handle on her job and knew more or less what to expect, she was in the middle of an emergency. ‘Leo …’

He must have heard the concern in Lizzie’s voice because he was behind the curtain in an instant.

‘It’s okay, Francesca,’ he said immediately, and he sounded so calm that for a second Lizzie wondered if he’d actually noticed that Francesca’s lips were blue and her skin a deathly grey.

‘I can’t breathe …’ Francesca gasped.

‘I know,’ Leo said, his fingers taking the pulse on her neck as his other hand reached for his stethoscope. ‘Don’t try and speak. Just nod or shake your head. Do you have pain?’ Leo asked.

She shook her head. ‘Leo …’

‘Press the intercom,’ Leo said once Lizzie had put on a probe to read Francesca’s oxygen levels—and they were dire. ‘Gwen!’ His voice was calm and clipped. ‘Call 999 and see who else is around.’

Lizzie slipped an oxygen mask on Francesca as Leo inserted an IV. Despite his calm demeanour, Lizzie could see the flare of worry in his eyes as more and more it looked as if Francesca was suffering from a potentially fatal pulmonary embolism—a complication that sometimes happened after surgery when a clot deep in the veins of the leg flicked off and travelled to the lung.

‘What have we got?’ Mitchell Cooper, an American surgeon who Lizzie had had few dealings with, came in with the crash trolley and set to work pulling up emergency drugs.

‘Query PE in a seventy-two-year-old, three days post facelift and fillers. The wound looks infected …’

‘When was she last seen?’ Mitchell glanced up from the syringe he was filling.

‘I’m not sure.’ Lizzie saw Mitchell frown at Leo’s irregular response because post-operative care was taken very seriously at the Hunter Clinic.

‘What do you mean, you’re not sure when she was last seen?’ Mitchell demanded—he clearly had no qualms questioning Leo about something as serious as this.

‘I didn’t do the surgery,’ Leo said.

But he was dealing with the consequences of it.

Still, they didn’t think of that now, they just concentrated on keeping Francesca as comfortable as possible until the ambulance arrived. Francesca was gripping tightly onto Leo’s hand as she struggled to get air in. ‘It’s okay, Francesca.’ He just kept saying it over and over and from the way she was holding onto him, it was clearly helping. ‘The ambulance is here.’

The paramedics were skilled and calm and soon had her on the stretcher.

‘Who do you want me to contact?’ Leo asked Francesca. ‘Your niece?’

‘No.’ An exhausted Francesca shook her head, still determined that no one must ever find out.

‘Francesca, your family need to know what’s happening. This could be serious. Amelia would want to know that you were ill. It would be awful not to know …’ Lizzie looked up as Leo fell silent, surprised because he seemed to be struggling, but he soon regained his composure. ‘You must let me tell her.’

Clearly Francesca trusted Leo because she gave a weary nod.

‘Can you text Amelia’s details to me?’ Leo looked over at Lizzie. ‘I’ll call her when we get to the hospital.’

‘You’re going with Francesca?’ Mitchell checked.

‘Of course,’ Leo said. ‘She’s my patient.’

Lizzie was shaken and terribly worried for Francesca. She turned to see Ethan and Rafael, who had just come back from the Lighthouse Hospital to the sight of a blue light ambulance leaving the clinic, and Mitchell quickly brought them up to speed.

‘Didn’t Leo do a full facelift on her just last year?’ Rafael asked, and Mitchell nodded.

‘Leo didn’t do the surgery this time.’

‘He refused to,’ Lizzie said.

‘Well, we all know what that means at times …’ Mitchell’s face was grim, in fact, all three surgeons seemed very concerned. ‘I’d better go and speak with Lexi.’

‘Why Lexi?’ Lizzie asked, as Mitchell headed off to speak to the head of PR for the Hunter Clinic.

‘The proverbial is about to hit the fan,’ Ethan said darkly. ‘Mark my words.’