Читать книгу Seduced By The Sheikh Surgeon - Carol Marinelli - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

‘THAT WAS SOME storm last night,’ Janet said.

‘You’re telling me!’ Helene responded. ‘Hayden was driving and I had to get him to pull over.’

Adele was on another late shift and they were sitting at the nurses’ station. They had been discussing annual leave before the conversation had been sidetracked.

Adele really wasn’t in the mood to hear about Helene’s son’s driving lessons.

Again!

Helene had, a few months ago, come back to nursing after a long break away to raise her perfect family, and she spoke about them all the time.

‘Did you get home okay, Adele?’ Janet checked.

‘I did,’ Adele said, glancing over at Zahir, who had his back to her and was checking lab results on the computer. He was wearing navy scrubs and his long legs were stretched out. He was still taking up far too much space in her mind. ‘A lovely man stopped and gave me a lift.’

She watched as Zahir briefly stopped scrolling through results but then he resumed.

‘Who, Paul?’ Janet asked, because they all knew that Adele had a date with him tomorrow night.

‘No.’ Adele shook her head. ‘It was just some random man. As it turned out, he’d escaped from police guard in the psychiatric unit, but I didn’t feel threatened—he didn’t have his chainsaw with him.’

Janet laughed. She understood Adele’s slightly off-the-wall humour. ‘You got the bus, then.’

‘Yes, I got the bus.’

Chatter break over, they got back to business.

‘Adele, you really need to take some annual leave.’

Janet placed the annual leave roster in front of her and Adele frowned as Janet explained. ‘Admin don’t like us to hold too much over and further you haven’t taken any in the time you’ve been here.’

‘Nice problem to have!’ Helene said.

‘What about September?’ Adele suggested, because there were several slots there and Janet nodded and pencilled a fortnight in then. ‘You need to take two weeks before that, though.’

The trouble with that was it was now May. The upcoming summer months were all taken. In fact, a couple of months ago Adele had cancelled her leave when Helene had won a competition to take her perfect family on an overseas holiday.

‘How about the first two weeks of June?’ Janet suggested. ‘There’s a spot there.’

‘But that’s only three weeks away.’

‘That will give you time to book something last minute and cheap,’ Janet said. ‘I’ve been telling you to take some leave for ages, Adele.’

She had been.

‘What might you do?’ Helene asked once Janet had gone.

‘I have no idea,’ Adele admitted.

The truth was, even if she could afford to jet off to somewhere nice, she could not bear the thought of leaving behind her mum.

And a fortnight without the routine of work wasn’t something that Adele wanted either.

She didn’t like the flat where she lived, and, feeling guilty about acknowledging it to herself, neither did she want to spend even more time at the nursing home.

Perhaps she could do some agency work and try to get enough money together to start looking for her own place.

‘How is Mr Richards now, Adele?’ Zahir asked about the patient whose notes she had been catching up on when the subject of annual leave had arisen.

‘He’s comfortable.’

‘And how are his obs?’

‘Stable,’ Adele said.

Mr Richards was on half-hourly obs and they were due, oh, one and half minutes from now.

Basically, Zahir was prompting her to do them.

Well, she didn’t need him to remind her, as he so often did, but she said nothing and hopped down from her stool.

Mr Richards had unstable angina and as she did the observations Adele smiled down at the old man, who was all curled up under his blanket and grumbling as the blood-pressure cuff inflated.

‘I want to sleep.’

‘I know that you do,’ Adele said, ‘but we need to keep a close eye on you for now.’

His blood pressure had gone up and his heart rate was elevated. ‘Do you have any pain at the moment?’ Adele asked.

‘None, or I wouldn’t have, if you’d just let me sleep.’

Adele went to tell Zahir about the changes but was halted by a very elegant woman. She had a ripple of long black hair that trailed down her back and she was wearing a stunning, deep navy, floor-length robe that was intricately embroidered with flowers of gold. Around her throat was a gold choker and set in it was a huge ruby.

She was simply the most stunning woman Adele had ever seen.

‘I am to meet with Zahir...’ she said to Adele. ‘Can you tell him that I am here?’

Adele would usually ask who it was that wanted to speak with him but there was something so regal about her that she felt it would be rude to do so. As well as that, she had heard Zahir asking Phillip to cover him for a couple of hours as he and Dakan were taking their mother out for afternoon tea.

This was surely his mother—the Queen.

‘I’ll just let him know.’

There was only Zahir in the nurses’ station now. He was still on the computer but just signing off. ‘Zahir,’ Adele said.

‘Yes?’ He didn’t turn around.

‘There’s a lady here to see you. I think that it might be your mother.’

‘Thank you,’ he stood. ‘I shall take her around to my office. When Dakan comes, would you tell him where we are?’

‘Actually...’ Adele halted him. ‘I was just coming in to tell you that Mr Richards’s blood pressure and heart rate are raised.’

‘Does he have pain?’

‘He says not, he just wants to sleep.’

‘Okay.’ Zahir glanced at the chart she held out to him. ‘Could you take my mother to my office and have her wait there?’

‘Of course,’ Adele said. ‘What do I call her?’

‘I answer to Leila!’

Adele turned and saw that Zahir’s mother had followed her into the nurses’ station. ‘I apologise.’ Adele smiled. ‘Let me take you through...’

They walked through the department. Leila said how lovely it felt to be in London and to be able to go out with her sons for tea. ‘Things are far less formal here than they are back home,’ she explained. ‘I prefer not to use my title when I am here as people tend to stare.’

They would stare anyway, Adele thought. Leila was seriously beautiful and it was as if she glided rather than walked alongside her.

‘I thought you’d have bodyguards,’ Adele said, and Leila gave a little laugh.

‘My driver is trained as one but he is waiting outside. I don’t need bodyguards when I have my sons close by.’

‘Zahir’s office is a little tucked away...’ Adele explained as they walked through the observation ward, but then she frowned as she realised that the Queen was no longer walking beside her.

She turned around and saw that she was standing and had her fingers pressed into her forehead.

‘Are you okay?’ Adele checked.

‘I’m just a bit...’ Leila didn’t finish. Instead she drew in a deep breath and Adele could see that she was terribly pale. ‘Could you show me where the restroom is?’

‘It’s there,’ Adele said, and pointed her to the staff restroom. ‘I’ll just wait here for you, shall I?’

Leila nodded and walked off and Adele waited for her to come out.

And waited.

Perhaps she was topping up her make-up, Adele decided, but then she thought about how pale Leila had suddenly gone and Adele was certain that she had been feeling dizzy.

She was loath to interrupt her. After all, Leila was Zahir’s mother and she was also a queen.

But, at the end of the day, she was a woman and Adele a nurse and she was starting to become concerned.

Nursing instinct won.

She pushed open the door and stepped in but there was no Leila at the sink washing her hands or doing her make-up. ‘Leila?’ Adele called into the silence.

‘Please help me...’ Leila’s voice came from behind the cubicle door.

‘It’s okay, I’m here.’ Adele took out the coin that she kept in her pocket for such times. She turned it in the slot and pushed open the door, relieved that it gave and that Leila wasn’t leaning against it, as had happened to Adele in the past.

‘Don’t let my sons see me bleed,’ Leila begged.

‘I shan’t.’

She was bleeding and on the edge of passing out.

‘Put your head down,’ Adele told her. ‘Has this happened before?’

‘A couple of times. I am seeing a doctor on Harley Street.’

Adele didn’t want to leave her sitting up in case she passed out, but neither did she want to lie her on the floor. She opened the main door to the rest room, at the same time as keeping an eye on her. She saw Janet bringing a patient into the obs ward.

‘Janet!’ Adele called out in a voice that made the other woman turn around immediately. As she did so Adele ducked straight back into the cubicle, knowing that Janet would follow her in.

‘Just take some nice big breaths,’ Adele said to Leila.

As Janet entered, Adele brought her up to speed.

‘This is Leila, Zahir’s mother. She’s bleeding PV.’

‘I’ll go and get a gurney.’

‘Janet,’ Adele added, before she dashed off, ‘she doesn’t want Zahir to see.’

It was all swiftly dealt with. Leila was put onto a gurney and oxygen given. Adele put some blankets over her to make sure that she was covered before they wheeled her through.

Of course Zahir had finished with Mr Richards and was making his way to his office as they passed by.

‘What happened?’ he asked and then he gave a look at Adele as if to say, I left her with you for five minutes!

‘Your mother fainted,’ Adele told him as they walked quickly into the department.

‘Maria,’ Janet called out to the female registrar who was on duty today.

‘I will take care of my mother,’ Zahir said as they arrived at the cubicle.

He started to walk in but Adele blocked his path.

Well, she hardly blocked it, because she was very slight and he could easily have moved her aside or stepped around her, but there was something in her stance that was a challenge. ‘Zahir!’ Adele said, and she looked up at him and, for only the second time in twelve months of their history, their eyes met properly.

‘Adele, let me past.’

‘No,’ she said, and stood her ground. ‘Zahir, there are some things a mother would prefer her son didn’t see.’

As realisation hit he gave a small nod. ‘Very well.’

‘We’ve got this,’ Adele reassured him.

He was like a cat put out in the rain but reluctantly he stepped back. ‘Could you keep me informed?’

She nodded.

Poor Leila, Adele thought as she got her into a gown and did some obs. Leila point blank refused to allow Adele to remove her jewellery.

Janet inserted an IV and Maria ordered some IV fluids. In a short space of time Zahir’s mother was starting to look better.

‘I’ve been unwell for a while,’ she explained. ‘I came over last month to have some time with my sons but I also had some tests done. I’m supposed to be having a hysterectomy tomorrow. I don’t want my husband to know.’ She took a breath. ‘As awkward as it might be, I was going to tell my sons today at afternoon tea.’

Maria went through her medical history but at first Leila was very vague in her responses.

‘How many pregnancies have you had?’ Maria asked.

‘I have two children.’

‘How many pregnancies?’ Maria asked again.

‘Three,’ Leila said, and Adele saw a tear slip from her eyes and into her hair. ‘I don’t like to speak of that time.’

Maria looked at Adele, whose hand Leila was holding, in the hope Adele could get more out of her. ‘The doctor needs to know your history, Leila. She needs to know about your pregnancies and labours and any problems you have had.’

‘My womb causes me many problems. I got pregnant very quickly with Zahir but he was born prematurely. It was a very difficult labour.’

They waited for her to elaborate but she didn’t.

‘And the next pregnancy?’ Adele prompted.

‘It took five more years to get pregnant and then I had Dakan. Again it was very difficult, he had very large shoulders. Two years later, I was lucky and I fell pregnant but my body did not do well... I had the best healer and a specialist attar but there was little they could do for me.’

‘Attar?’ Adele checked.

‘He makes up the herbs the healer advises. I took the potion every day yet I still felt very unwell, and I started to vomit.’

‘At what stage of the pregnancy?’ Maria asked.

‘He said I had four months left to go,’ Leila answered. ‘I was getting worse and I insisted that I be flown to a medical facility overseas. My husband and the healer were very opposed to the idea but I demanded it. In Dubai they said that I had to deliver the baby and that my blood pressure was very high. I called my husband and he said the healer had told him it was too soon and that the baby would die and that I needed to come home. Fatiq flew to Dubai to come and bring me back home...’

Leila started to cry in earnest then. ‘But by then I had delivered and the healer was right. A few hours after my husband arrived our son died.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Adele said.

‘I have a picture of him.’

Adele got Leila’s bag and watched as she took out her purse and showed them the tiniest most beautiful baby. ‘We named him Aafaq, it means the place where the earth and sky meet.’

‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Adele said, and she looked at a younger Leila and a man who looked very much like Zahir and was probably around the age his son was now.

They were both holding their tiny baby and he was off machines.

‘What a beautiful baby,’ Adele said.

They were a beautiful family, Adele thought, despite the pain. The King’s arm was around his wife and he was gazing down at his son and you could see the love and sorrow in his expression.

‘We cannot even speak of Aafaq,’ Leila sighed. ‘There is too much hurt there to even discuss that time. I think that my husband blames me for turning my back on the healer and yet he loves me also. I want for us to be able to speak about the son we lost but we can’t. Aafaq would have been twenty-five years old next month and time still hasn’t healed it. I miss him every day.’

It was so sad, Adele thought, and she continued to hold the older woman’s hand as Maria examined her. A while later an ultrasound confirmed fibroids and Maria went through the options.

‘We have a private wing here and I can speak with the consultant gynaecologist, Mr Oman. Or you can be transferred to the hospital you’re already booked into, though I doubt they’d operate tomorrow. You might need a few days to rest and recover from this bleeding.’

‘I think I would rather stay here but I shall discuss it with my son. Will you speak with him, please?’ Leila asked Maria. ‘He will be so worried and I am so embarrassed.’

‘Stop thinking like that,’ Adele told her. ‘Zahir is a doctor, he deals with this sort of thing all the time.’

‘Adele’s right,’ Maria said. ‘Can I tell Zahir that you were already planning to have surgery?’

‘Yes.’ Leila nodded. ‘But please don’t mention what I said about Aafaq.’

‘I shan’t. Do you want him to come in when I’ve finished speaking with him?’

‘Please.’

‘Check first, though,’ Adele called, as Maria left. ‘I’m just going to help Leila freshen up.’

Adele left to make preparations so that she could give Leila a wash and change of sheets. When she came back into the cubicle Leila was staring at the photo but then she placed it back in her bag.

It must be so hard for her, Adele thought, not to be able to speak of her son. She wondered if Zahir even knew about the baby his mother had lost.

‘Were you going to tell your husband after the operation?’ Adele asked as she washed her.

‘Yes,’ Leila said. ‘I might even have told him before or got one of my sons to. I know it is hard to understand our ways,’ Leila said. ‘Most of the time I am very grateful for the care I receive. There are times, though, that more is needed.’

Aafaq had been one of those times, Adele guessed.

Soon she was washed and changed.

‘Thank you for caring for me,’ Leila said.

‘It’s my pleasure. I’m just going to take your blood pressure again.’

She was doing just that when Maria checked that Leila was ready to receive visitors and a concerned-looking Zahir and Dakan came in.

They came over and Zahir gave his mother a warm embrace and spoke kindly to her in Arabic.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘You could have told me that you have not been well.’

‘I have been trying to deal with it myself.’

‘Well, you don’t have to. You have two sons who are doctors.’

‘The healer seems to think...’

What was being said, Adele did not know but she watched as Zahir’s jaw gritted.

‘Zahir, don’t just dismiss it out of hand. The potion helped at first but in the end was not working. It was the same when...’ She didn’t finish.

Zahir looked down at his mother’s swollen eyes and he knew that she would have been asked about previous pregnancies.

And he knew that subject must not be raised by him.

‘When things were getting no better, the healer suggested that when I was in London perhaps I could see someone.’

Zahir frowned. ‘He suggested it?’

‘Yes,’ Leila said, ‘but please don’t tell your father that. I don’t want the healer to get in trouble.’

It was a long afternoon that stretched into the evening. Dakan got paged to go to the ward and Zahir saw patients while keeping an eye on his mother.

Mr Oman came and saw Leila. It was decided that she would be admitted to the private wing and that surgery would take place on Monday.

‘For now we’ll have you moved somewhere more comfortable and you can get some rest.’

He spoke with Zahir on his way out. ‘You know that I shall take the very best care of her.’

‘I do. Thank you.’

‘Try not to worry. It will be a laparoscopic procedure and there will be minimal downtime.’ Mr Oman said.

Zahir knew that.

It was a straightforward operation that his mother had had to travel for ten hours to get access to.

Dakan came in to visit again and they persuaded their mother that Fatiq, the King, needed to be informed as to all that had happened today, and finally she agreed.

‘Go easy on him, Zahir,’ Leila said, for she knew how they clashed, especially on topics such as this. ‘He will be so worried and scared for me.’

Zahir nodded.

And at the beginning of the call, knowing how deeply his parents loved each other and the shock this would be, he was gentle. He sat in his office, explaining as best he could what had happened and that his mother would have surgery on Monday.

‘No,’ his father said and Zahir could hear the fear in his voice. ‘I want her here. Last time she went into hospital...’ He didn’t finish.

They never did.

That topic was closed for ever.

‘Zahir, if anything should happen to her—’

‘She needs surgery,’ Zahir interrupted, but they went around in circles for a while, with Fatiq insisting that surgery was unnecessary and that the healer could sort this.

Zahir bit back the temptation to tell his father that the healer had been the one who had suggested it.

That had surprised Zahir, yet it pleased him also.

Perhaps some progress could finally be made.

‘She is seeing one of the top surgeons in London,’ Zahir said. ‘I will ensure that she gets the very best of care and shall keep you informed.’

The call ended and Zahir replaced the receiver. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb and took a deep breath to steady himself. He was so angry with his father about the health care back home and it was a battle they had fought for way more than a decade.

It was the reason he was here.