Читать книгу Dr Cinderella's Midnight Fling - Kate Hardy - Страница 8

THE next morning, Jane woke with a start. She was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with a body curled protectively round hers.

For a moment she thought she was having some peculiarly vivid dream, remembering what it was like being part of a couple and waking up in her man’s arms. But then the body next to hers shifted and pulled her closer.

She was definitely in bed with someone else. And she’d split up with Shaun eight months ago. Which meant that the body curled round hers belonged to…She swallowed hard. She was still in bed with the handsome stranger she’d spilled champagne over last night.

Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. What a stupid thing to do: spending the night with a complete stranger, without telling anyone where she was. Even if he did have lovely manners and had given her more pleasure in one night than her ex-fiancé had given her in two years, he was still a stranger. Anything could’ve happened.

Oh, for pity’s sake. Dr Jane Cooper was known for being ultra-sensible. She didn’t do this sort of thing.

Except…she just had.

At least she hadn’t told him her name. Hopefully their paths wouldn’t cross so they could avoid an embarrassing situation. Even if they both worked at the London Victoria, the hospital was big enough for her not to know at least half the staff; and she definitely hadn’t met him before, or she would’ve remembered those beautiful eyes.

She’d needed practically no persuasion to spend the whole night with him. And they’d spent most of the night making love. They’d actually run out of condoms, and she’d felt like the bad girl she’d never actually been.

It wasn’t that she had regrets about last night—how could she regret the way he’d made her feel?—but she really didn’t have a clue how to face him this morning. What to say. How to deal with the situation. Plus she needed to be somewhere. So the best thing she could do would be to slip quietly away before he woke. It would avoid embarrassment on all sides. Gradually, she worked her way out of his arms; when he moved to pull her back again, she gave him the warm pillow she’d been lying on, and he cuddled that closer.

Cute.

Jane smiled regretfully. Maybe if they’d met under other circumstances… But there was no point dwelling on it, and she really needed to check on a patient and talk to her boss.

She picked up her clothes from the floor and quickly dragged them on, rescued her handbag and her shoes, tiptoed over to the door, and unlocked it very quietly. When she glanced back towards the bed, she could see that he was still sleeping. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed silently. ‘For making me feel beautiful.’

Then she remembered. His jacket. Considering it had been her fault, the least she could do was pick up the dry cleaning bill.

There was a leather folder on top of the dressing table, with the hotel’s crest stamped on it. Just as she’d hoped, it contained paper and a pencil. She slid the top sheet quietly out of the folder and scribbled a quick note on it. Then she took some money from her purse and left it on top of the note, then put the pencil on top of the banknotes to weigh them down. Finally, she closed the door behind her and fled.

Back at her flat, Jane showered—trying not to think about what Prince Charming had done with her in his shower last night—and changed into jeans and a plain T-shirt. Once she’d downed a mug of coffee, she flicked into her phone and read the article again, just to be sure that she wasn’t making a fuss over nothing.

She wasn’t.

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. There was no point in trying to call Jenna to task over it. Her twin would simply open her big brown eyes and claim innocence, say it wasn’t her fault the journalist had written it that way. And then somehow their mother would get wind of the row and she’d have a panic attack; and the blame for that would be laid firmly at Jane’s door. Been there, done that, worn the T-shirt until it was in rags.

So instead of asking Jenna what her problem was and why she couldn’t play nicely for once, Jane sent her a very polite email, saying simply, Thank you for letting me know. Even Jenna couldn’t twist that.

And now she was going to have to do some damage limitation, as well as check up on how Ellen Baxter was doing this morning.

‘You’re supposed to be off duty, Jane,’ Iris, the senior midwife, said as Jane walked into the department.

Jane smiled. ‘I know. Thanks for sending that message through Theo last night.’

‘Did you have a good time at the ball?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iris gave her a concerned look. ‘You’re looking a bit… well, worried, this morning.’

‘You know me. Always worrying about my patients,’ Jane said lightly. She knew Iris would be sympathetic if she told the midwife about that horrible article, but she needed to tell Theo first. And if anyone was too nice to her right now, she might just bawl her eyes out—from frustration as much as hurt. ‘Talking of patients, I’m just going to see Ellen.’

Ellen Baxter was listlessly flicking through a magazine, but she brightened when Jane walked into her room. ‘Dr Cooper!’

‘Good morning, Ellen.’ Jane’s smile was genuine. ‘How are you doing?’

‘OK. I hope.’ Ellen grimaced. ‘I’m trying to relax.’

‘But it’s hard when you’re on bed rest and you want to be at home.’ Jane patted her hand sympathetically. ‘Let me have a look at your charts.’ She read through them swiftly. ‘OK. Can I check your blood pressure and your temperature?’

‘You can stick as many needles as you like in me, if it means I can go home!’ Ellen said.

Jane laughed. ‘You’re safe from needles today.’ She checked Ellen’s blood pressure and temperature, then marked them on the chart. ‘That’s good. Any twinges or spotting?’

‘None. And, believe you me, I’d say if there was,’ Ellen said feelingly. ‘I don’t want anything to go wrong. I can’t lose this baby.’

‘I know,’ Jane soothed. ‘We’re all rooting for you.’

‘Everyone’s being so nice here, but it’s just not home.’ Ellen flushed. ‘And I know it’s wet of me, but I can’t sleep properly without Rob.’

‘It’s not wet. It’s perfectly understandable.’ It had taken Jane weeks to get used to sleeping on her own after she’d split up with Shaun. Luckily she’d been the one to move, so at least there were no memories of him in her flat. ‘Ellen, I’m happy with your obs. If Rob can come and pick you up, then I’ll discharge you this morning. With conditions,’ she added firmly.

‘Anything,’ Ellen said, her eyes shining.

‘Firstly, you take it easy. Secondly, any worries at all—no matter how small or how silly you think they might be—you call me. Thirdly, any twinges, you get straight here to the department. OK?’

‘OK.’ Ellen’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You’ve been so lovely. If it wasn’t for you…’ Her voice cracked.

Jane squeezed her hand again. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’ She smiled at Ellen and got off the bed. ‘You call Rob, and I’ll get the paperwork sorted with Iris.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ Ellen’s eyes glittered with tears.

Warm and soft in his arms… Ed snuggled closer, then realised drowsily that he wasn’t holding someone, he was holding something. He opened his eyes. A pillow.

She’d left him asleep, holding a pillow.

Unless maybe she was in the shower? He listened, but he could hear nothing from the bathroom. And the sheet on her side of the bed was stone cold. She’d been gone for a while.

Well, he supposed it was one way to avoid the awkwardness. Though it stung that she hadn’t waited for him to wake up.

On his way to the bathroom, he saw the note on the dressing table.

Dear Prince Charming, Thank you for last night. Hope this covers the dry cleaning bill. Cinders.

So she’d played the game right to the end. He damped down the surge of disappointment that she hadn’t left him her number or told him her real name.

And there was the fact that she’d left him some money. He knew she’d meant it to cover the cleaning bill for his jacket, but it still made him feel cheap.

Still, it was his own fault for acting on impulse. He was better off being his usual sensible, serious self. And he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Once the paperwork was done, it was time to start the damage limitation. Jane knocked on Theo’s open office door.

He looked up from his desk. ‘Janey, you’re supposed to be off duty. What are you doing here?’ He raised one hand to silence her reply. ‘Oh, don’t tell me. Ellen Baxter.’

‘Yes. I’m discharging her this morning. She’ll call me if she has any worries and she’ll come straight back here if she has the slightest twinge.’

‘And did you come in to tell me that, or to bring me coffee?’ he asked, looking hopeful.

‘Actually, a large brandy might be more in order,’ she said ruefully.

He frowned. ‘What’s up, Janey?’

She dragged in a breath. ‘I need to show you something. I’m sorry, I had absolutely no idea about it until I got the email last night.’ She pulled the article up on her phone and handed it to him.

Theo read through it, his mouth set in a grim line; when he’d finished, he looked up at her. ‘I’ve never seen such utter spite in my entire life. I can’t believe this is focused on something so shallow and it doesn’t even say what you do! Are you all right?’

No. She was ragingly angry and desperately hurt. She yanked the emotions back. No more tears. Just smiles. ‘I’m fine,’ she fibbed. ‘But this is going to look really bad for the department. If you want me to resign, I understand.’

‘Resign? You must be joking. Janey, you’re an excellent doctor and this rubbish has got nothing to do with you.’ He flicked out of the screen. ‘When does the magazine go on sale?’

‘I’m not sure. This week, I think.’

‘Right. I’ll have a word with the shop manager and make sure it’s not on sale in the hospital this week. If necessary, I’ll buy their entire stock of the magazine myself. I can’t do anything about people who buy it elsewhere and bring it in, but my guess is that anyone who knows you—staff or patient—will be fuming on your behalf.’ He looked grim as he handed the phone back to her. ‘And those who choose to spread gossip or make stupid comments to you—well, their opinions are worth nothing in the first place, so just ignore them, OK?’

‘Thank you.’ She felt humble beyond belief that her boss was prepared to buy up the entire stock of magazines to try and spare her from an awkward situation.

‘I take it that—’ he said something in Greek that she didn’t understand, but from the expression on his face it definitely wasn’t anything complimentary ‘—sister of yours was behind this?’

Jane spread her hands. ‘She asked me to do the interview months ago. It was meant to be a feature about twins, “the beauty and the brains”. Except I was up to my eyes with work and exams, so I said I couldn’t do it. I thought she’d just forgotten about it.’

‘More like she used it to have another dig at you, because she’s incredibly jealous of you.’

‘She can’t be. There’s absolutely nothing to be jealous about. She’s a supermodel,’ she reminded Theo.

‘She’s also heading towards thirty and she’s not going to get the same kind of work opportunities she had when she was eighteen. Looks don’t last, but education does. You’re clever, your career will be going from strength to strength while hers is starting to go more slowly, and everyone who meets you really likes you. That’s why she’s jealous,’ Theo said. He sighed. ‘Do your parents know about this?’

‘Probably not. But I’m not going to say anything. You know my mum’s fragile.’

‘I know depression’s tough to overcome,’ Theo said gently, ‘but it doesn’t mean you can just give up on being a parent to your children. When have either of your parents ever put you first?’

Jane didn’t want to answer that. ‘It’s OK.’

Theo gave her a sympathetic look. ‘You’ve got more patience than anyone else I know.’

‘It’s not easy for Mum. She was right at the height of her career when she fell pregnant with Jenna and me and had to give it all up.’ According to Sophia, pregnancy had ruined her skin and her figure; and, with the crippling post-natal depression she’d suffered afterwards, she’d never been able to return to her modelling.

‘You know, Maddie could say the same thing. Being a mum means that she’s had to give up some of her career choices, and I’ve turned down offers as well because I don’t want a job that’d mean I can’t give her and our daughters enough time. But neither of us would change a thing, because the girls have brought so much joy to us,’ Theo said softly.

Jane had to swallow hard. What would it be like to have a family who loved her unconditionally, the way Maddie and Theo felt about their children, instead of making her feel guilty for being born? What would it have been like if Jenna had supported her and cheered her on through the long years of studying medicine, instead of pulling her down and mocking her all the time?

Though it was pointless dwelling on it. She couldn’t change the way they were. All she could do was try to love them as best as she could—and, since Shaun had betrayed her with Jenna, that had meant from a safe distance. Which, she supposed, made her just as bad as them.

Theo reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Sorry. I’m overstepping the mark. It’s not my place to criticise your family. Though I wish they’d appreciate you for who you are.’

He paused. ‘Do you want me to call Maddie? Or Sorcha?’

‘No. I’ll be fine.’

‘Hmm.’ He looked at her. ‘Is that article the reason why you disappeared from the ball so early last night?’

‘No.’ Not exactly. She definitely wasn’t telling him the real reason behind that.

‘Sure?’

‘Sure,’ she confirmed.

‘I’ll believe you—for now.’ He smiled at her. ‘Now, go and have two nice days off, forget about that stupid article, and come back all bright-eyed on Tuesday morning, yes?’

‘OK, Theo.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘And thank you.’

‘Any time.’

On Tuesday morning Jane had just checked up on her first patient when Theo walked in. ‘Janey, have you got a moment?’

She looked over at him, saw the man in the white coat next to him, and her knees went weak as she recognised him.

Oh, my God.

He couldn’t possibly be… Could he?

Theo’s next words confirmed it. ‘I’d like to introduce you to our new consultant.’

If Theo said his name was James or Bond, she was going to collapse in a puddle of hysterical laughter.

‘Edward Somers,’ Theo continued. ‘Ed, this is Jane Cooper, one of our F2 doctors, but it’s not going to be long before she makes registrar.’

She could feel her face going bright red and there was a tiny, tiny smile lifting the corner of Ed’s mouth. Oh, please, don’t let him say anything about Saturday night…

‘Good to meet you, Jane,’ he said politely.

Then she realised she’d been holding her breath, waiting for him to spill the beans. Clearly he wasn’t going to do that: because it wouldn’t reflect too well on him, either. She smiled at him in relief. ‘You, too, Edward—or do you prefer Ed?’

For a second, she could swear he mouthed ‘James Bond’, but then he said, ‘Ed. May I join you in your rounds?’

‘I—well, sure.’ She spread her hands. ‘You’re the senior. I guess you should lead.’

Ed smiled at her. ‘Patients are much more important than protocol. You already know them, so I’m happy for you to lead and introduce me while we’re there.’

‘I’ll leave you in Jane’s capable hands,’ Theo said, and headed back to his office.

‘Very capable,’ Ed said softly.

Oh, help.

‘I, um… Look, we probably need to talk, but for now can we keep this… well, just work?’ Jane asked.

‘For now,’ he agreed.

Before she could take him to the next patient, Iris hurried over. ‘We’ve just had a call from the ED. The mum’s twenty-four, she’s eleven weeks pregnant and she can’t stop being sick. Marina thinks it’s hyperemesis.’

‘We’re on our way,’ Jane said.

In the emergency department, she swiftly introduced Ed to Marina Fenton, the specialist registrar.

‘I’m pretty sure it’s hyperemesis. Poor woman—morning sickness is bad enough,’ Marina said. ‘I’ve already done bloods and sent them off for electrolyte levels, blood count and renal.’

‘Thanks, Marina—that’s great.’

‘Mrs Taylor’s through here.’ She showed them to the cubicle where a young woman was retching miserably into a bowl.

‘Mrs Taylor? I’m Jane Cooper and this is Ed Somers. Dr Fenton asked us to come down and see you. Can I get you a drink of water?’ Jane asked.

Mrs Taylor shook her head. ‘I can’t keep anything down.’

‘Taking small sips might help you feel a little bit better,’ Jane said gently, and stuck her head out of the cubicle for long enough to ask one of the auxiliaries to bring in a glass of water.

‘How long have you been feeling like this?’ Ed asked.

‘About a month. I knew you got morning sickness, I just didn’t expect it to be all day and all night and as bad as this.’ She retched again. ‘Sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Jane said, squeezing her hand.

The auxiliary brought in the water Jane had asked for, and Mrs Taylor managed a small sip. ‘Thank you. That’s made my mouth feel a bit less disgusting,’ she admitted.

‘Good. Have you talked to your family doctor or your midwife about your sickness?’ Ed asked.

‘I didn’t want to bother them.’ She shook her head. ‘My sister had it bad, too. She lost weight and felt lousy all the time for the first bit.’

Jane and Ed exchanged a glance; hyperemesis was known to run in families. But it was also more common in women carrying twins—or, more rarely, it could be caused by something more sinister. They needed to run some tests to rule out the nasties.

‘My boss made me come in. I was sick over a client. It was her perfume that set me off—it was so strong.’ Mrs Taylor bit her lip. ‘I really hope he forgives me.’

‘I’m sure he will. He sent you in because he was worried about you,’ Ed reassured her. ‘So, you’re about eleven weeks. Have you had a scan yet?’

‘No, that was meant to be next week. My Jason’s getting the day off to come with me.’ Worry skittered across her face. ‘Is there something wrong with the baby? Is that why I keep being sick like this?’

‘I think you have something called hyperemesis—it’s basically really bad morning sickness,’ Ed said. ‘I’ve treated mums before who’ve had the same thing. It’s really miserable for you, but you’re in the right place and we can do something to help you feel a lot better.’

‘Really?’ Mrs Taylor looked as if she didn’t quite dare believe them.

‘Really,’ Jane confirmed.

‘And it won’t harm the baby? Only my nan said she knew someone who took stuff to make them stop being sick and the baby was…’ She shuddered. ‘I feel like death warmed up, but I’d rather put up with that than risk anything happening to the baby.’

‘We won’t give you anything that’s not safe for the baby,’ Ed reassured her. ‘Dr Fenton told us she’s already done some blood tests, so we need to wait for the results of those. But in the meantime we’d like to give you a scan and see how the baby’s doing.’

‘Has anyone called your husband, or would you like us to call someone to be with you?’ Jane asked.

‘Jason’s on his way,’ Mrs Taylor said.

‘That’s great. We’ll to take you up with us to the maternity unit, then,’ Jane said.

‘And, because you’re quite dehydrated from being sick, I’d like to keep you in for a little while and put you on a drip to replace the fluids you’ve lost. That’ll make you feel a lot better, and we have one or two things that will help you stop being sick but won’t affect the baby,’ Ed reassured her.

By the time they’d taken Mrs Taylor up to the maternity unit, her husband had arrived. Ed ushered them in to the consulting room with the portable scanner, and Jane noticed that he was careful to make sure that the Taylors couldn’t see the screen, in case it was bad news.

‘What I’m going to do is to put a bit of gel on your stomach—sorry, it’s a bit cold, whereas down in ultrasound it’s always warm. All it does is help us get a better picture of the baby,’ Jane explained. ‘It’s not going to hurt you or the baby—I’m sure your midwife’s already told you this, but it’s all done by sound waves.’

Mrs Taylor retched again, and her husband held the bowl for her; when she’d finished, Jane wiped her face with a damp cloth.

‘This baby’s going to be an only child,’ Mrs Taylor said. ‘I’m not going through this again. Ever.’

Jane made a soothing noise and glanced at Ed. Please, don’t let it be a molar pregnancy causing the sickness, she thought.

Ed returned her glance; as if he could read her mind, he gave her a reassuring smile and the tiniest nod.

Thank God.

‘I’m pleased to say that the baby’s doing fine.’ Ed turned the screen to show them. ‘I did wonder if you might be having twins, because that sometimes makes the sickness much worse; but you’re having just one. Here’s the heart, beating nicely.’ He pointed out the baby’s heart. ‘Everything’s looking just as it should do.’ He made some quick measurements. ‘And you’re eleven and a half weeks.’

Mrs Taylor brushed back a tear. ‘The baby’s really all right?’

‘The baby’s absolutely fine,’ Ed reassured her.

‘Can we have a picture?’ Mr Taylor asked.

‘Unfortunately, this is a portable scanner, so we can’t print anything from it. But when you have your proper scan next week, they’ll be able to give you pictures then,’ Jane explained.

Ed ran through the treatment plan, explaining what they were going to try and why; Jane found herself chipping in from time to time. It was as if she’d worked with him for years, instead of only half a morning. Whatever the complications caused by their fling on Saturday night, she was definitely going to able to work with this man. He fitted right in to the team, and he treated the mums with respect and dignity. And she liked that. A lot.

‘I like your bedside manner,’ she said when they’d left the Taylors.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Funny, I find sometimes women run from it.’

Jane felt the colour shoot into her face. ‘I didn’t mean that kind of bedside. I meant how you are with the mums. In my last hospital, I worked with a consultant who was incredibly brusque and treated everyone like idiots, mums and staff alike. He had all the social skills of a piranha, and I swore I’d never become like that myself or be forced to work with anyone like that again.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘Though I guess I knew you wouldn’t be like that, or Theo would’ve refused to appoint you.’

He smiled. ‘I was teasing you, Jane.’

Her face was burning. ‘Sorry. Everyone says I’m too serious. I’m afraid you drew the short straw and you’ve got the nerdy one to work with.’

‘Nerdy’s good,’ he said. ‘I like clever people. Come on, let’s finish our rounds.’

She introduced him to the rest of her patients. When they’d finished, he said, ‘I think we need to talk. Probably not where we’re likely to be overheard, so do you know a quiet corner somewhere?’

Here it came. Retribution for her acting so madly, so unJanelike, on Saturday. And Sunday. ‘Believe it or not, the most private place is probably going to be the hospital canteen; it’s noisy and people don’t get a chance to eavesdrop.’

‘Good. Let’s go.’