Читать книгу The Pregnant Intern - Carol Marinelli - Страница 9

WHOEVER had written in the mother-and-baby magazine Alice had read in the doctor’s waiting room that there was a lot more choice in maternity wear these days either had a bottomless wallet or terrible taste in clothes, Alice thought ruefully as she dressed. Her ‘bump’ seemed to have grown practically overnight. Though somewhat excited by the rapid changes in her body, the down side was she could no longer get by with undoing the buttons of her skirts and wearing loose-fitting clothes. Her trip to the maternity departments hadn’t been a howling success. Everything was either ludicrously expensive or trimmed with a disgusting lace Peter Pan collar or bow. Finally she had settled on a ‘maternity kit’ which consisted of a black Lycra skirt, swing top and trousers, and a little black dress which showed off rather a lot of her expanding bust line. Still, it was reasonably priced and, teamed with a couple of shirts, it should get her through the remainder of her pregnancy.

Settling on the black skirt and top, she pulled her dark hair back into a low ponytail and applied her make-up. The ‘glow’ the same magazine had promised would appear by mid-pregnancy seemed to be about as evasive as a black maternity bra. But with a touch of eyeliner and mascara on her long lashes, and a dash of lipstick on her full mouth, she didn’t look too bad, Alice thought as she eyed herself in her bathroom mirror. Picking up her bag, she had a quick check in the full-length mirror and let out a groan. She looked as if she were going to a funeral. Despite the manufacturer’s claims, there was obviously no such thing as ‘sheer’ forty denier support tights. ‘You’re going to be late on your first day,’ Alice warned herself as she hastily ripped off the offending garment and grappled through her bathroom cabinet for some tinted moisturiser. She hadn’t been near the beach in months and her pale legs needed a bit of help. Finally—if not entirely happy with her appearance, at least feeling marginally better—Alice took a tram the short distance to the hospital and amazingly arrived with ten minutes to spare.

‘Morning. It’s Alice Masters, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’ She smiled at the friendly freckled face. ‘You must be Josh Winters, the surgical resident.’

‘The one and only. Looks as if it’s only us two here. Linda McFarlane’s probably sucking a few lemons before the ward round.’

‘I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks like that. I had more than a few reservations when I first met her. She’s not very friendly, is she?’ Alice said, referring to the surgical registrar who had been particularly condescending at her interview.

‘Tell me about it! Darren Barker, the other reg, is nice to work with but unfortunately he’s on annual leave for a month now Jeremy’s back. I wish it was Linda who was on leave—she told me to get a haircut before they’d consider me.’

‘And did you?’ Alice asked eyeing the long shaggy locks reaching well past his collar.

‘Yes, believe it or not. Though she’ll still probably take the scissors to me herself later. We clashed a few times when I was an intern. I must be a glutton for punishment, coming back to do it all again. Still, Jeremy Foster on my résumé will look pretty impressive—you can learn a lot from him.’

Alice nodded. She had been thinking absolutely the same thing when she’d applied for this rotation.

‘I thought Linda was just giving me a hard time because I was pregnant,’ Alice admitted.

‘You’re not, are you?’ Josh asked feigning surprise. ‘You poor old thing. My wife’s expecting twins any day now—she gave up work ages ago. I have to say I admire you, taking this lot on.’

‘Your wife’s expecting twins?’ Alice asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. Josh Winters looked like he should have had a surfboard under his arm, not a stethoscope around his neck. He certainly didn’t fit the image of a young doctor, married with twins on the way.

‘I know, I know.’ He laughed, then added, ‘Don’t worry about old sour-grapes Linda. She’s just peeved that the great Jeremy Foster is actually coming back. No one had written him off more completely than her. She was hoping for a nice fast ticket to consultant. And to make matters worse,’ he said in undertones, ‘Linda is the only woman in this hospital Jeremy hasn’t even attempted to pull.’

‘He surely can’t be that bad.’

‘You mark my words, he’s insatiable. At least you’re one female intern that doesn’t have to worry about succumbing to his charms. That bump of yours will act like a crucifix to a vampire for our Jeremy, so at least you won’t be putting Linda offside on that score. I hope she’s shaved this morning.’

Alice found herself smiling, which was quite a revelation in itself. She hadn’t been doing too much of that lately. It looked as if Josh was going to be nice to work with—heaven knew, she could use a few allies with the insatiable Jeremy and the bearded Linda breathing down her neck.

‘There you are. I assume your letters of confirmation did explain it was this Monday you started.’ Linda McFarlane’s tone was anything but friendly. ‘We’re all waiting for you at the nurses’ station.’

‘You said to meet outside the ward,’ Josh argued, apparently unruffled by her tones.

‘I most certainly did not. What are you going to learn here? The medical students have been at the nurses’ station, going through the patients notes and X-rays for half an hour now. At least they’re showing some initiative.’ And, turning on her heel, she walked smartly onto the ward.

‘But she did say to meet outside,’ Alice whispered furiously to Josh as they followed her onto the ward. Linda McFarlane, with her cold grey eyes and severe hairstyle, did nothing to endear herself to Alice.

‘What Linda says and what she actually admits to are somewhat conflicting,’ Josh said darkly. ‘Watch your back.’

But Alice wasn’t listening. The only back she was watching at the moment was the impeccably suited, wide-shouldered back of her new boss as he held an X-ray up to the light. His blond hair, expertly cut, tapered into his long neck. He looked as immaculately groomed and tastefully dressed as any film star from the glossies, and by hospital standards he was the closest thing to a legend Melbourne City was likely to produce.

‘Finally, we can start,’ Linda said pointedly, and Alice found herself holding her breath as Jeremy Foster turned and gave the briefest of smiles, his blue eyes flicking briefly down to her bulging stomach. Alice felt a small blush appear as she remembered Josh’s ‘vampire’ comment.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand as the introductions were made, and Alice was painfully aware of her moist palms as she returned his handshake. No amount of gossip—and there had been plenty—had done him justice or even come close to adequately describing him: sun-bleached blond hair, blue eyes and an arrogant haughty smile. Momentarily stunned, she stared back at him, lost in her thoughts.

‘We’ll get started, then,’ he said in a clipped voice, and Alice looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

She tried desperately to concentrate as they made their way around the ward, to ignore the flutter of butterflies Jeremy seemed to so effortlessly have started. Linda had the most to say—after all she had already met most of the patients and seemed to take every available opportunity to ram home how well she had coped. Jeremy didn’t seem fazed by her attitude, listening intently. But every now and then he overrode a decision Linda had made or changed a drug regime, effectively assuring all present that he was the one in charge. It soon became apparent to everyone that Linda was having a lot of trouble accepting her boss’s return. Her simmering resentment became increasingly obvious as they made their way around and at the final patient’s bedside Linda let her bitterness surface.

‘Mrs Marshall came in on Thursday with acute pancreatitis. She has a history of alcohol abuse. She’s been nil by mouth on IV fluids with a pethidine infusion to control her pain. Currently, we’re weaning her off the pethidine and she’s now on five mls an hour. I was thinking of starting her this morning on clear fluids.’

‘Good morning, Mrs Marshall. I’m Mr Foster, the surgical consultant. How are you feeling this morning?’

Mrs Marshall was struggling to sit up. ‘A bit better, but I’d really like a drink of water.’ Alice looked on. If this was Mrs Marshall looking better she’d have hated to have seen her on Thursday. Pancreatitis could either be acute or chronic. It caused severe abdominal pain and the patient rapidly became seriously ill. Although managed medically, it still came under the domain of the surgeons. In this case it had been precipitated by Mrs Marshall’s ingestion of large quantities of alcohol.

Jeremy flicked through the patient’s blood results as Mrs Marshall fiddled in her locker. ‘Her amylase levels are still very high.’

‘But they’ve come down markedly,’ Linda said.

‘Still, it might be a bit early to be starting her on fluids,’ Jeremy responded calmly.

‘Just small sips—you can see yourself how agitated she is,’ Linda pointed out. ‘She’s making a lot of work for the nursing staff, trying to get out of bed and get a drink.’

‘Which is probably more related to her pain and her alcoholism. Keep her nil by mouth for now and increase her pethidine,’ Jeremy said.

Linda pursed her lips. ‘Surely we’re just replacing one addiction with another. A few sips of water must be better than increasing her pethidine.’

Jeremy picked up the drug chart. ‘Mrs Marshall is in pain, and that needs to be addressed. A PRN order of Valium might be wise also, given her withdrawal from alcohol.’

He turned from Linda’s angry gaze and addressed the patient.

‘Mrs Marshall, we’re going to keep you nil by mouth for now. I know you want a drink but it really is safer not to at the moment. We’ll increase your pain control and I’ve written up an order for some Valium which will help you to settle.’

Surprisingly, Mrs Marshall seemed a lot happier with his decision than Linda and leant back resignedly on her pillows.

‘A psychiatric and social work referral would also be appropriate,’ Jeremy said, handing her folder back to the charge nurse.

‘She had all that last time she was in,’ Linda said. ‘That’s why I didn’t order the works this time around. She always swears she’s going to give up this time, and then back she bounces.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Which, while mildly frustrating for us, must be absolute hell for Mrs Marshall and her family. See she gets the appropriate referrals.’

‘Bravo, Jeremy,’ Josh whispered, and Alice actually found she felt like cheering herself. Jeremy had certainly put the obnoxious Linda in her place.

‘I’m not entirely happy with her.’ Jeremy looked over at Alice. ‘When we finish up here, can you do some blood gases on Mrs Marshall?’

‘Sure.’

‘I’ll see you both later in pre-op clinic.’ With a small nod he walked off, as Linda marched furiously behind him.

‘I’ll start writing up the notes, then, while you do the gases,’ Josh suggested. ‘Then we can grab a coffee.’

‘I doubt it,’ Alice said with a sigh. ‘I’ve got three IVs to resite and a pile of drug charts that need writing up, and there’s a couple of bloods that need doing.’

‘Alice, Alice, Alice.’ Josh gave her a wide smile. ‘You have so much to learn. Fi,’ he called to the charge nurse, who came over with a smile, ‘this young intern hasn’t yet learnt how to ask for favours. Do you think we should teach her?’

Fi smiled warmly at Alice. ‘You’re not listening to Josh, are you? He’ll get you into all sorts of trouble.’ Fi had delicate oriental features and a kind smile but, despite her seemingly easygoing nature, Alice knew just from this morning’s ward round that Fi ran the ward with impeccable efficiency.

‘That’s not fair, Fi.’ Josh winked at Alice. ‘Fi and I worked together when I was a surgical intern,’ he explained. ‘Now, Fi, tell Alice the truth—didn’t I always come at night when you paged me? Didn’t I listen to you and call the reg when you were worried? Didn’t I always bring doughnuts in?’

Fi nodded. ‘And in return I had to do half your bloods and IVs.’

‘Cheap at half the price. Come on, Fi, don’t say you’ve gone all hard on me? You’re the only reason I came back to this ward.’

Fi laughed. ‘All right, I’ll help with your bloods, if I get the time. But I’m on nights next week,’ she warned, ‘and you’d better remember your side of the deal.’

As Josh made his way to do his notes, Fi turned her attention to Alice, who was filling up a kidney dish with blood-gas syringes and alcohol swabs.

‘When you’ve done the blood gases, I’ll show you around,’ she offered. ‘Let you know how Jeremy likes things.’

‘Thanks ever so much.’

Fi looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Listen to me for a moment, Alice. I know I always look busy but I’ve always got time if you need to run something by me. If there’s something you’re not sure about, you can always come to me.’

Alice nodded. It was a kind offer that a lot of charge nurses made when new interns started and one that was much appreciated. Heaven knew, it was a busy enough job and you needed all the support you could get. But there was something about Fi’s offer that sounded ominous, as if she almost expected trouble.

‘I’d better get those gases done.’

‘I’ll get you some ice.’

Although Mrs Marshall was on oxygen, Alice removed the mask before she took the blood gases, as the blood taken while the patient was breathing only air would enable them to get a truer picture of her condition. Although obviously unwell, the increased pain control had already kicked in and she actually seemed in the mood for a chat.

‘I’m just going to take a small sample of blood from your wrist, Mrs Marshall, so just hold still while I inject some anaesthetic.’

‘No one else has bothered with anaesthetic. How come?’

‘Maybe you were too sick and they needed the blood urgently,’ Alice suggested diplomatically.

‘Maybe they were in too much of a hurry,’ the patient said pointedly. ‘When are you due?’

‘In about three months’ time,’ Alice muttered reluctantly.

‘Your first?’

Alice nodded. She really didn’t want to discuss her private life with Mrs Marshall but, as she was increasingly finding out, her obvious condition seemed to be a licence for all and sundry to strike up a conversation about the most personal of subjects.

‘Must be hard on your own.’ She gestured to Alice’s naked ring finger.

Alice concentrated on finding the pulsing artery. ‘Hold still, please, Mrs Marshall.’

Thankfully she hit the jackpot first time and the bright red arterial blood spurted up the syringe.

‘She got it first go and even gave me an anaesthetic first,’ Mrs Marshall said loudly—to whom, Alice had no idea.

‘Glad to hear it.’

Alice nearly jumped out of her skin as Jeremy made his way over. ‘Let’s pop your oxygen back on now.’ He replaced the mask over the patient’s face.

‘I was just saying how hard it must be for the young doctor, being pregnant and on her own.’

Alice wished the ground would open up and swallow her, but she had no choice other than to stand there and press the cotton-wool swab for a full two minutes on the site where she had taken the arterial blood.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jeremy said lightly. ‘Solitude has its virtues. I think you can stop pressing now,’ he added to Alice.

Mortified, she followed him out of the room.

‘Don’t tell them so much next time,’ Jeremy said, taking her to one side.

Alice, blushing furiously, looked down at her feet. Her tinted moisturiser had gone all blotchy. ‘I’m sorry, I know it mustn’t look very good—professionally, I mean—what with me being a single mother and all that.’

To her utter amazement Jeremy gave a small laugh. ‘We’re in the twenty-first century, Alice, for heaven’s sake, not the nineteen-fifties. Nobody gives a damn these days about pregnant women being single.’

‘Well, I do.’ Alice said curtly, though the fact he wasn’t bothered by her status was somehow strangely comforting.

‘I know,’ he said, and Alice looked up, surprised at his perception. ‘I could tell Mrs Marshall’s probing was making you uncomfortable. Next time tell them your fingers have got too fat to put your rings on, or tell them you don’t want to talk about it. Tell them what you like. You’re the doctor. It’s you holding the consultation, not the other way around.’

‘Thanks, I never thought of it like that.’

‘You’d better get those blood gases over to ICU.’

Only then did Alice remember the kidney dish she was holding. ‘I’ll take them down to the lab myself. We’re not allowed to use the ICU blood-gas machine for ward patients unless it’s a real emergency,’ she reminded him.

Jeremy screwed up his nose. ‘Since when?’

‘Since for ever—well, at least in the nine months I’ve been here.’

But Jeremy didn’t look convinced. ‘I’ve never had a problem. Maybe it’s because I’m consultant,’ he said pompously.

Well, you wouldn’t have a problem, would you? Alice thought to herself as they entered the intensive care unit. One glimpse of those impossibly blue eyes and a flash of that ready smile and everyone melted. Even Flynn, the gayest of porters, smoothed down his hair when Jeremy walked past. They were all so delighted to see him that Alice stood there awkwardly as they chatted away, greeting him like a long-lost friend. Finally Jeremy seemed to remember why they were there.

‘I’d better get these bloods done, or we’ll have to get a fresh sample.’

Far from the grumbling staff that reluctantly allowed her to do blood gases in only the most dire of emergencies, for Jeremy it seemed it was absolutely no trouble at all. They even offered to run the test for him.

‘No, but thanks anyway. I just want to have a quick look at the printout and then hopefully dash off. I’ll catch you all later.’

Alice could find neither rhyme nor reason for her indignation as she smeared a drop of blood onto the machine and punched in her request.

‘Don’t take it personally,’ Jeremy said, glancing at her sideways as she glared at the machine. ‘They probably let me use the machine because they’ve got a bit of a soft spot for me. I was a patient here for a while.’

Alice gave a cynical laugh as the printout appeared. The staff might well have a soft spot for Jeremy Foster, but it certainly wasn’t all down to the fact he had been a patient here, or even that he was a consultant.

Ripping the result off, she handed it to him.

‘Better than I thought. Good. But keep an eye on her, Alice. Given that I’ve upped her pethidine and prescribed her Valium, her respiration rate could go down. Tell the nurses to do strict one- to two-hourly obs and keep a close eye on her oxygen saturations.’

Alice nodded.

‘I’ll catch you later, then.’

As he left the tiny annexe, the baby suddenly let out a massive kick. Alice’s hands instinctively moved to her stomach and she tenderly massaged it. ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you’re in there,’ she whispered, and watched out of the window as Jeremy made his way down the unit, every nurse in the place turning her head to catch a glimpse as he left. At least she didn’t have to worry about Jeremy trying his well-rehearsed lines on her. Just as well really, Alice thought to herself as she made her way back to the ward. With those blue eyes and that sultry smile she doubted whether even she would be able to offer much resistance.

Pre-op clinics always ran overtime and today was no exception, given the fact it was the intern’s first day and the consultant had only just returned from sick leave.

It was Alice’s job to clerk the patients, which involved taking a full medical history. From there she would order any test she thought necessary prior to the patient’s admission, such as ECGs and blood tests. Then the consultant would review the patient and agree or disagree with the intern’s suggestions, invariably adding or removing a test. At this point, Jeremy explained, he would like her to be present.

‘There’s not much point otherwise. At least we can both explain our thought processes behind the pre-op work-ups. The down side is it means we won’t be out of here much before six.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘Or maybe even seven. Is that a problem?’

Alice shook her head. ‘Sounds fine to me.’

And so they battled away. Alice took excellent histories. Somehow she managed to get the patients to open up—maybe because she gave a bit of herself back. But under her steady, unaccusing gaze the ‘occasional smoker’ would admit to a twenty a day habit and even the ‘social drinker’ admitted to a few cans mid-week. She took Jeremy’s advice, though, and somehow by remembering that it was she that was holding the consultation she managed to avoid some of the more embarrassing questions that, until now, patients had assumed it was their right to ask. Not that she wasn’t personable and friendly, but Marcus’s rejection and her current circumstances were something Alice was having difficulty dealing with herself without the constant, however well meaning, advice from strangers.

Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed to be taking his own advice to the extreme. He was courteous, friendly even, yet he gave nothing away about himself. Every personal comment, every attempt by a patient to make small talk was immediately and skilfully rebuffed. So skilfully, in fact, that it took Alice the full afternoon to realise he never spoke about himself other than with reference to his work.

Jeremy didn’t seem remotely bothered by her apparent slowness. In fact, by the time the last patient had been seen and the clock was edging towards seven, he seemed more than happy to prolong the evening with a chat.

‘That’s the last, Mr Foster.’

The young nurse popped her head around the door and Alice noticed her looking pointedly at her watch.

‘Thanks, Emily, you did a great job today. I’m sorry we’ve made you so late. And, by the way, it’s Jeremy.’

Instantly the bitter expression melted.

‘No problem.’ Emily paused. ‘Jeremy. It’s nice to have you back.’

That man could get away with murder, Alice thought. Why, even the most respected consultant wouldn’t be left in doubt of the nurse’s wrath if he let the clinic run more than two hours over, but for some reason Jeremy could get away with it. The nurses had been just as forgiving as the patients.

‘I’d just like to run a couple of things by you before you go,’ Jeremy said, interrupting her thoughts.

‘OK.’ Putting the pile of notes she had completed into the in-tray, Alice took a seat at his desk.

‘You’re sure?’ Jeremy checked. ‘You haven’t got a babysitter you’ve got to get back to or anything?’

‘I don’t have to worry about that for a few months yet.’

‘And if Mrs Marshall’s observations were correct, I can assume you don’t have a husband or partner wanting his dinner on the table?’

Alice swallowed nervously. She had known it would only be a matter of time before he asked. ‘Another thing I don’t have to worry about.’

‘Good.’

Alice looked up sharply. ‘Is it?’

Jeremy gave her a brief smile. ‘For me it is. Look, Alice, you’ve heard the gossip. I’m a has-been, I’m coming back too soon, I’m half the surgeon I used to be, and all that.’

Alice flushed. ‘I’ve heard nothing of the sort,’ she lied.

‘Bull.’

His expletive hit the mark. ‘Well, maybe a few remarks,’ she admitted. ‘But you know what this place is like. Once you’ve been back for a couple of weeks you’ll soon put them right. Anyway,’ she added somewhat more forcefully, ‘what on earth has any of this to do with my marital status?’

‘Everything and nothing. You know how politically correct everything is these days, Alice. Apparently, I’m not supposed to notice the obvious fact that you’re pregnant. And even if it’s brought to my attention I’m not supposed to let it affect my judgement of you in any way. Even by having this conversation, effectively you could run off to the anti-discrimination council and have me up to my neck in hot water.’

Alice was totally confused. ‘Why would I?’

‘Because, as I said, your rather large bump supposedly shouldn’t affect my judgement of you in the slightest.’

‘And does it?’ Alice asked boldly.

Jeremy stared at her for an age. Her heavy dark hair was too much for the loose scrunchy she was wearing and was slipping from its grasp, and dark grey eyes were staring up at him as if waiting for his judgement. For a second he lost his train of thought, but only for a second. His eyes flicked downwards again, and came to rest on the soft yet firm swell of her stomach.

‘Yes,’ he answered simply. ‘Yes, it does.’

‘But why? Just because I’m pregnant, it doesn’t make me any less a doctor.’

Jeremy put his hands up. Tanned, manicured, long-fingered hands, Alice noticed...surgeon’s hands. ‘I never meant—’

But Alice interrupted him, jumping to her feet. Suddenly she felt threatened. Maybe he was about to say he didn’t want her on his team, would never have agreed to it had he been in on the interview. All she knew was that it was imperative he let her stay. ‘Being pregnant makes me a better doctor. I now know what it’s like to lie on an examining couch and be prodded and poked. I know how it feels to be vulnerable, to be a number in the system.’

‘Whoa.’ Jeremy gestured for her to sit down.

Furious with herself for reacting so violently, Alice meekly did as she was told. Not trusting herself to speak, she looked up at him.

Jeremy cleared his throat before speaking. ‘Firstly, I have absolutely no doubt you’re a fine doctor. Your references are exemplary, and from what I’ve seen today you merit every word that was written. Secondly, I’m sure you really are a better doctor for being on the receiving end of the health system. I know without a shadow of doubt that I am, or at least I hope I will be. Take Mrs Marshall today. Normally I’d have dropped her pethidine down even further, and I’m not proud of that fact. But, having been in pain myself, I now recognise it all the more.’ He stopped talking and for a moment Alice thought he had forgotten she was even there.

‘And thirdly,’ she prompted. ‘I assume there’s more?’

Jeremy snapped back to attention, a wry smile touching the edge of his lips. ‘I’m not an obstetrician, and with good reason.’

Alice’s eyebrows shot up in a questioning look.

‘Heaven knows, they make enough money.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Alice grumbled, thinking of the invoice from Brett Halliday sitting in her bedside drawer amongst the other pile of unpaid bills.

‘What I’m trying to say,’ Jeremy continued, ‘albeit not very well, is that pregnant women terrify me.’

Alice started to laugh, then stifled her giggle as she realised he wasn’t joking.

‘You’re not serious?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Deadly serious. I mean, see it from my angle. If I bawl you out, are you going to burst into tears or, worse, will I induce premature labour? If I keep you behind in a clinic or call you into Theatre at midnight, am I going to do irreparable damage to the baby?’

Alice really was laughing now. ‘Jeremy, I’m not a doll. I’m not some precious Ming vase that’s about to shatter, for heaven’s sake. I’m pregnant, that’s all. Women have been managing it throughout time, in fact.’

‘I know, I know. Look, I’m probably not being fair, landing this lot on you. I know you haven’t asked for special favours or anything. It’s just that I’m going to be pretty full-on in the ensuing months, far more so than any of the other surgeons, and that means I’m going to be asking a lot from you. I just need to know that you’re up to it and if you’re not I need you to tell me.’

‘I’m up to it.’ Alice said with conviction, but it wasn’t the answer Jeremy wanted to hear.

‘You still don’t understand, do you?’

Alice looked at him, nonplussed. What more did he want—an affidavit?

‘If I’m piling it on too thick I need to know you’ll tell me. I’m single-minded where work’s concerned. What I’m trying to say is that my career is everything to me. Now, I might expect loyalty and hard work from my staff and sometimes I admit I stretch the limits, but in your case you have a baby to think of. I’m not a soft touch—anything but—and I need to know that you’ll tell me if there’s a problem. It might not be politically correct, or whatever you want to call it, but I can’t pretend your condition doesn’t exist. If I’m coming down too hard, you must say so.’

Alice was surprised by his words, stunned even. From what she had heard of Jeremy Foster, compassion and understanding weren’t on his list of credentials, and even if his attempt at these had been somewhat bumbling and massively sexist, she was touched at his attempt. ‘I will,’ she said softly.

‘So long as we’ve cleared that up, then.’ Jeremy gave her a dismissive nod and Alice said goodnight. Retrieving her bag from the nurses’ station, it suddenly became imperative that she thank him. Making her way back to his room, she stepped inside. Jeremy was sitting there, his head in his hands. Two soluble painkillers were fizzing away in the glass next to him. From the hunch of his wide shoulders she could tell he was tense, possibly in pain. Sensing someone’s presence, he sat up smartly and turned around.

‘Was there anything else?’

Alice hesitated. Suddenly she felt as if she had witnessed a side that Jeremy didn’t want to be seen, as if she had somehow invaded his privacy.

‘I just wanted to thank you.’

‘There’s really no need. You’ll be calling me all sorts of names by the end of the week.’

Alice gave a small smile. She knew she should go now, but for some reason she found herself standing there. He might be her consultant, but at this moment Jeremy Foster looked nothing like the dashing, confident man she had met this morning. He looked exhausted—the day must have taken its toll—and in pain, too. ‘Er, is there anything I can get you?’

Jeremy gave her a quizzical look. ‘Like what?’

Alice shrugged. ‘A cup of tea perhaps?’

Jeremy gave a low laugh before answering sarcastically, ‘A woman’s solution to everything.’ When Alice flushed he added more kindly, ‘At least, it’s my mother’s solution.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve got a headache, that’s all. I’ll be fine.’ And, turning his back, he started dictating his notes into a machine for his secretary.

Well, what had she expected? For Jeremy Foster to confide in her, to tell her how bad he was feeling? She let out a low moan. Imagine offering him a cup of tea! Of all the stupid things to say—in one sentence she had relegated herself to the little-woman role where Jeremy so obviously thought she belonged.

If only she had known that at that same moment Jeremy’s head was back in his hands and he was thinking that maybe he should have accepted that cup of tea. Maybe a few minutes spent talking to Alice would have made things a bit easier for him if he’d told her how it was for him, that the accident hadn’t left him completely unscathed. That his back was killing him and he suffered headaches that were indescribable. After all, he was going to be relying a lot on her over the next few months and he was hardly about to bare his soul to Linda. And as for Josh—well, Josh was a good bloke but he gossiped far too much. Maybe talking to Alice would have helped lighten his load. But what good could have come from it? She seemed like a nice girl, but he hardly knew her. No doubt in five minutes’ flat the word would be around the hospital. Has-been, past it, came back too soon. Jeremy pulled a face as he downed the rest of the revolting medicine. He’d just have to wear it for now.