Читать книгу The Surgeon's Gift - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 6

‘SORRY it took so long, Hailey, it’s just been a bit busy.’ Despite her internal anger, Rachael managed an easy smile and chatted away to her patient. ‘If I could just have your wrist, I can check your ID band.’

Everyone knew the patient was Hailey but policy decreed that two staff members check the ID band against the drug chart. Happy that everything was in order, Rachael expected Hugh to leave them to it, and was somewhat taken back when he hovered.

‘I still have to check her wound,’ he said by way of explanation as Rachael removed the cap on the IV bung.

‘These have to be given over five minutes,’ Rachael said, expecting Hugh, like most doctors, to take the opportunity to make a quick phone call or grab a coffee. But Hugh, Rachael was quickly learning, was absolutely unlike anyone she’d ever come across.

‘I’m happy to wait,’ he said easily. Which was pretty amazing in itself, but when he sat on the bed and started to idly flick through the newspaper and make small talk with Hailey, Rachael thought she had seen everything. Most consultants would have positively baulked at the idea of having to make five minutes of small talk with a patient. Hugh, though, seemed delighted at the opportunity and it was a credit to them both that Hailey couldn’t even have imagined the rather curt exchange that had taken place only moments before.

‘I was telling Rachael earlier that I remember her from the last time I was in here.’

‘Was that when you had your appendix out?’

‘Yep, Rachael here was just about to go off on maternity leave.’

She felt Hugh’s eyes turn to her and she fiddled with the IV bung, trying to ignore the conversation that was unfolding.

‘So what did you call her?’ Hailey asked.

‘That’s the first.’ Rachael didn’t look up as she swapped over syringes. ‘I’m just going to give you your second antibiotic now.’

‘Your daughter,’ Hailey insisted, pursuing the conversation despite Rachael’s obvious reluctance. ‘What did you call her?’

Glancing up briefly, Rachael saw them both look at her expectantly and knew there was no getting out of it. ‘Amy,’ Rachael said simply, turning her attention back to the IV, painfully aware that both Hugh and Hailey were waiting for her to elaborate.

‘What a gorgeous name.’ Hailey rested back on the pillows as the pethidine started to take effect. ‘And I’ll bet she’s beautiful.’

‘Very,’ Rachael said softly.

‘How long have you been back?’

She must have counted every tiny hair on the back of Hailey’s hand but still Rachael’s eyes didn’t move. ‘It’s my first day.’

Hailey let out a small laugh. ‘And here’s us running you ragged. Your mind must be a million miles away, worrying about crèches and babysitters and the like. We’ll have to treat you gently. So how old is Amy now? Must be coming up for a year.’

Slipping the cap back on the IV, Rachael patted her patient’s hand. ‘All finished now. The painkillers should start to kick in soon. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.’

Walking smartly to the treatment room, she tipped the empty ampoules and syringes into the sharps box. The footsteps she heard behind her were heavy and already familiar, and she could feel the animosity from Hugh as he banged about, laying up a dressing trolley.

‘I can do her dressing for you.’

‘It’s fine. I just want to reinforce it.’ He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You should add a postscript to your little platitude about pressing the buzzer, Sister.’

‘Meaning?’ Although Rachael knew where the conversation was leading, she was stalling for time, trying to avoid the inevitable.

‘Meaning you should add ‘‘unless I’m tied up with one of my real patients’’ or ‘‘so long as you don’t want a bit of friendly conversation’’.’

‘I don’t like talking about my personal life.’

‘She was just being nice, for goodness’ sake.’

‘Look, Doctor, you might be happy to sit on the beds and tell the patients what you had for breakfast this morning. I don’t work like that. I prefer to keep a professional distance.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’ He raked a hand through his hair and turned to go, but just as Rachael thought the lecture was over, Hugh had second thoughts.

‘You’re like a breath of fresh air, Rachael, you know that? You’re a real charmer to work with.’

‘I don’t have to wear my heart on my sleeve to be a good nurse.’ Rachael retorted.

‘Maybe not,’ Hugh said crisply, turning on his heel. ‘But observing a few social pleasantries wouldn’t go amiss either.’

As first days back went, it wasn’t a exactly a howling success, but neither was it a total disaster, Rachael reflected as she sat at the nurses’ station towards the end of her shift, writing up her patients’ notes. It actually was good to be back. OK, the United Nations might need to draw up a peace treaty to keep her and Hugh from killing each other, but for the most part, the day had been all right.

Sheila had been reviewed by Cardiology and though her bloods and ECG had been reported unchanged, the event meant her operation had been set back further. Hailey, once the pethidine had kicked in, had slept for most of the afternoon, happily receiving visitors during the evening. And her other two patients had pretty much taken care of themselves, apart from needing some drugs and dressing changes. Everything Rachael had done during her shift had to be diligently recorded and as she sat there, chewing the end of her pen, she realised it was nice to be actually using her brain again, to be dwelling on other people’s problems for once. OK, so there had been a few hiccoughs, but Rachael was determined not to dwell on them.

She had survived her first day back.

‘They’re ready for you.’ Helen gave an encouraging smile as she came out of the office. Stepping in, Rachael felt a million miles away from the nervous wreck that had started the shift only hours earlier.

‘Be gentle with me, guys.’ She smiled before she started her handover. ‘I haven’t done it in ages.’

A few cat-calls showed that one thing that definitely hadn’t changed was the below-the-belt humour of nurses, and with the help of an encouraging wink or two from a couple of old colleagues Rachael handed over her patients to the care of the night staff.

‘They didn’t eat you alive, then?’ Helen asked as Rachael pulled out her hair tie and slipped on her jacket.

‘They were fine. Everyone’s been great.’

‘So we’ll see you back here tomorrow?’

Rachael nodded. ‘Thanks, Helen.’ As she went to go, her colleague called her back.

‘Drop these into the doctors’ office on the way past, would you? Hugh just buzzed for them.’

There was no getting out of it. Rachael hesitated before knocking. Hugh’s blond head was turned from her as he tapped away on the computer. Opening the door, she slipped the papers on the desk. ‘Helen said you needed these.’

Not waiting for an answer, she started to leave.

‘Rachael, about this afternoon …’

‘Let’s not go there, huh?’ She really didn’t want to end the day on a confrontational note. All she wanted to do now was go home, peel off her uniform and slip into a warm bath. Rowing with Hugh again was way down on her list of priorities, but realising, in the name of patient of care, that something needed to be said if they were going to work effectively together, after only the slightest pause Rachael swallowed her pride. ‘I’m sorry for earlier. I think we got off to a bad start. Maybe we can start afresh tomorrow?’

The bitter pill of apologising was made sweeter by his quick response. ‘I’d like that.’ He had swung his chair around to face her now. ‘I’m sorry as well. Some of my comments were uncalled-for. I’m sure I just got it all wrong. Helen’s been singing your praises, and she’s a pretty good judge of character.’

‘I hope so, because she’s been saying the same about you.’

Hugh laughed. ‘So we’re both perfect—is it any wonder we clashed? Anyway, I’ve held you up long enough. No doubt you’re desperate to get back to your baby.’

Turning to go, her hand stayed on the doorhandle. She felt rather than heard him turn back to the computer and though she didn’t want to do it, Rachael also knew that it was time. If they were going to have any chance of working together as a team, then some things were just best out in the open.

‘Hugh …’ The tapping on the keyboard stopped. ‘I’m not saying this to make you feel awkward …’ He swung back to face her, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her face.

‘Whatever’s wrong? I thought we’d decided to start afresh tomorrow, the rows forgotten.’

She nodded, biting hard on her lip, taking a moment to compose herself before she answered as Hugh watched her quizzically. ‘I know that. Look, I didn’t say anything to Hailey because she’s only going to be here for the next couple of days so it didn’t seem fair to upset her, but you and I are going to be working together a lot …’

‘Rachael, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘I know.’ There was an awful silence … Hugh waiting for her explanation, Rachael wondering just how best to give it.

‘I did have a little girl,’ she started. ‘Her name was Amy.’ She watched as his quizzical look vanished, replaced instead by a look of cold shock, horror even, as he registered the past tense in her words. ‘And, as I said to Hailey, she was beautiful.’

‘Was?’ Hugh’s voice was more a croak, and he involuntarily winced as she nodded.

‘She was stillborn.’

Strong hands were around her then, guiding her to a chair, gently pushing her down onto the solid seat behind her.

‘Sorry.’ Rachael spoke softly.

‘Don’t say sorry.’ His voice was slightly breathless as he grappled to respond to her, the wind knocked out of his sails. ‘It should be me saying sorry, Rachael. I had no idea.’

‘Of course you didn’t, no one ever does. You go off on maternity leave and everyone just assumes that you’ve had a wonderfully healthy baby and you’re going to break into a spiel about sleepless nights and nappy rash.’

‘But why didn’t you just say something? I mean, Hailey was banging on about babysitters.’ He winced as he recalled the conversation. ‘It must have been agony for you.’

‘It was.’ Rachael let out a low laugh but they both knew it was void of any humour. ‘Look, Hugh, how are you feeling now?’

‘Me?’ He stared at her, bemused.

‘How do you feel now that I’ve told you?’

‘Awful,’ he admitted. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. ‘And really sad for you.’

‘Imagine how Hailey would feel. Imagine how she’d have felt if I’d turned around and told her the truth. She only meant well, she was just being nice.’

‘But you can’t go around not telling people just so you don’t hurt them,’ Hugh argued. ‘So that you don’t make them feel awful. What about your pain, what about how you feel?’

‘It was a one-off.’ Rachael gave a shrug. His hand was still wrapped around hers and she fixed her eyes on them, not embarrassed at the contact, if anything, slightly comforted. ‘Hopefully the next time a patient recognises me, if ever, I’ll be a bit more …’ she searched for the right word. ‘A bit more … . Oh, I don’t know, not so prone to bursting into hysterical tears perhaps.’

‘Feel free.’ Hugh’s free hand delved into his suit, pulling out a heavy navy silk handkerchief, which he pressed into her hand. She stared at it for a moment or two, and then shook her head.

‘I’ll be all right.’

‘I’m sure you will, but there’s nothing wrong in crying.’

Again she shook her head. ‘Accepting,’ she gave a sniff. ‘That’s the word I meant. Next time I have to tell a patient, I’ll be more accepting of the fact.’ His eyes were on her his hand still holding hers as she prattled on. ‘There are five stages of grief apparently, and acceptance is the final one.’

‘Where are you now?’ His voice was gentle, more an echo of her own thoughts really.

‘Well, I’m past the denial stage, so I guess I’ve moved on to anger,’ Rachael said with a trembling voice. ‘Maybe the textbooks do get it right sometimes, because angry just about sums me up at the moment. I’m angry for me and I’m angry for Amy, for all she’s missed out on and all the pain I’ve been through. It’s nearly been a year now.’ She nibbled at her lower lip and fiddled with the handkerchief in her hand as he still held her. ‘That’s a long time to be angry.’ Brown eyes, devoid of tears yet steeped in pain, finally looked up, and she found herself staring back into his infinitely understanding ones. ‘I think I must be stuck at number two. Maybe I’m a slow learner.’

‘Maybe you’ve got a lot to be angry about?’

A tiny nod was all she could manage, coupled with a loud blow into the handkerchief, the silk cool against her face. It smelt of Hugh, smelt of expensive aftershave and extravagance, and it would have been so easy to bury her face in it, to lay her head on that expensively suited shoulder and give way to the tears that were dangerously close. So very easy, but so very scary. ‘I’d better go.’ Standing, she retrieved her bag from the floor.

‘You’ll be all right—driving home, I mean?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ The brittle smile was back. She held out the handkerchief then, realising she had used it, hastily stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket. ‘I’ll wash and return it.’

Hugh gave a tiny shrug. ‘There’s no need. I’ll survive without it.’

All of a sudden Rachael felt embarrassed, embarrassed and exposed. No doubt Hugh thought she was used to this type of thing, used to baring her soul.

But she wasn’t.

To date this was as close as she’d come. As close as she had been to breaking down and exposing the depths of her grief.

‘I’m so very sorry.’

Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Like I said, you weren’t to know.’

He pulled her back as she went to leave, his hand finding hers again, and it felt so right she let it stay there for a moment as he spoke. ‘I wasn’t talking about this afternoon. I’m sorry for your loss, Rachael, I’m sorry to hear about Amy.’

Making her way down the long polished corridor, she walked faster, rummaging in her bag for her keys, unclipping her name badge—anything other than looking up and catching sight of the signs for the maternity unit.

Funny, hearing Hugh say Amy’s name hadn’t hurt. It had actually helped, helped make her baby more real, meant that she had existed after all.

Meant that there was a reason for the agony in her soul.