Читать книгу Hot Single Docs: Happily Ever After - Kate Hardy - Страница 11
CHAPTER THREE
ОглавлениеTHE crisis over, Luke found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Anna.
Not that he hadn’t spotted her the moment she’d walked into the canteen. He’d taken a good look then because he hadn’t been sure it was her. Something about the height and body shape of the woman had seemed familiar but he’d only seen her eyes before this so it could have been anybody.
Just an attractive female member of staff. A senior member, obviously, because of the way she held herself. The way she moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was very good at what she did. And maybe he recognised something in the way this woman was dressed. Power dressing, really, with that pencil skirt and neat shirt. She probably had a matching jacket that would make the outfit the female equivalent of a man’s suit. And what was that horrible thing she’d done to her hair? It was all scraped back into a round thing that made her look like a cartoon version of a librarian or frumpy secretary. All she needed was some thick-rimmed spectacles to complete the picture.
When her head had turned to scan the room, he hadn’t needed to be close enough to see the colour of her eyes to recognise that this was, indeed, Anna Bartlett. While she wasn’t radiating resentment right now, there was an air of containment about her that suggested she didn’t change her mind easily. A reserve that could well morph into an arctic-type chill when she saw him. A woman that knew her own mind and woe betide anyone that got in her way. Like him.
Luke almost sighed as he dropped his gaze back to a meal he wasn’t particularly interested in. He wasn’t enjoying this lunchtime experience much at all, in fact. He knew that many of the people around had to be talking about him. Gossiping. The happy chatter and laughter going on around him, even the smell of abundant, hot food all seemed irrelevant. Superficial.
The crash and then the scream had been real, though. He’d reacted on autopilot. He wasn’t sure what had made him demand Anna as an assistant. Possibly because she had been the only staff member nearby that he could call by name. Or maybe it was the memory of how well they had worked together in Theatre only a short time ago.
It had been a good choice. The crisis had been dealt with and a life had been saved and it had only been then, when it was virtually done and dusted and he was handing his patient into the care of a new team, that Luke had allowed anything else to enter his head. It was then that he’d had his first close-up look at Dr Bartlett and he’d had the curious impression that he’d been looking at something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing.
No wonder! The cool professional he’d seen queuing for her lunch was absent. This woman, standing in the canteen kitchen with a creased skirt and a shirt that had come untucked on one side, was … wrong, somehow. Even more disconcerting was that a thick lock of dark blonde hair had escaped the bun thing and lay against a long, pale neck.
Her cheeks were flushed. From the exertion and stress of doing CPR or was she embarrassed at being dishevelled? Even her eyes looked different. Enlarged pupils made them seem softer. Warmer.
Good grief … she was rather lovely.
Any impression of warmth vanished, however, as Luke stared at her, unable to drag his gaze away.
And then she dismissed him! Simply turned on her heel and walked away.
How rude. No genuine warmth there, then. Anna Bartlett was clearly a career woman through and through, and she probably saw him as nothing less than an obstacle in her scramble to the top of that ladder. Any hope that she might discuss this morning’s incident with him before reporting it to a higher authority faded and disappeared.
Charlotte, the cardiologist, was saying something to him, he realised. Something about whether he’d like to come with them to the emergency department to see what the investigations Roger needed would reveal.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please.’
‘You’ll remember Ben Carter?’
‘Of course.’
‘And have you met Josh O’Hara? No, you wouldn’t have. He joined the A and E staff while you were away.’
Luke kept up with the pace set by the people pushing the stretcher, heading away from the canteen and any areas that his assistant was likely to be heading for.
He’d see Anna again soon enough. Doing a ward round later today or perhaps in the departmental meeting scheduled for early tomorrow morning. Given how he felt about her in the wake of that dismissal, it might even be too soon.
The aura of the war hero already surrounding the return of Luke Davenport to St Piran’s had evolved into something far more tangible by the time Anna was halfway through her ward round later that afternoon.
He had become a living legend.
Thanks to the crowd in the canteen at the time, accounts of the incident would have spread like wildfire and reached every corner of this institution in no time flat. Spilling into ears eager for the smallest details.
The junior nursing staff on the cardiology ward were discussing it when Anna paused outside the central station to collect some patient notes she needed.
‘It was like something in the movies,’ someone was saying in awed tones. ‘He just pushed everything off the counter and jumped over it.’
‘I heard he did mouth-to-mouth without even using a face shield.’
‘Yeah …’
‘Is the guy still alive?’
‘Apparently he’s in the cath lab right now. He’ll probably get admitted in here or CCU when they’re finished.’
‘Do you think Mr Davenport will come down with him?’
‘Ooh … I hope so.’
The giggling from the young nurses was irritating. Anna decided it was because her own participation in the incident had been totally eclipsed by the actions of St Piran’s new superhero. Except that she couldn’t convince herself to be that petty. The irritation was really there because part of her was as star-struck as everyone else seemed to be. The man was intriguing. Compelling. Apparently trustworthy. And that was disturbing because Anna felt that she knew something about him that no one else knew. Or would believe.
If she wanted to discuss her concerns with someone, the obvious choice would be Albert White, the CEO of St Piran’s. He would listen to any concerns she might have about Luke’s abilities. He might even believe her and, if he did, he might set some kind of probationary programme in place. Things like that did not remain confidential. Eventually, it would leak. Given his performance in the canteen and new status amongst the staff, nobody else would believe Anna.
She might find herself more alone than she’d ever been in her struggle to break through the glass ceiling of her gender. It could affect how well she was able to do her own job. She stood to lose the trust and possibly even the co-operation of the people she worked with and teamwork was vital in this line of work.
Tread carefully, she reminded herself, even when her demotion from being team leader had been rubbed in when a flurry of activity had heralded the new arrival in the coronary care unit adjacent to the ward and more than the necessary staff numbers flocked to greet both the patient and the new head of department.
Roger the chef was made comfortable and wired up so that every beat of his heart could be monitored, the trace and its extra information like blood pressure and the level of oxygen in his blood appearing on one of the screens flanking the central nurses’ station. It was there that Luke caught up with Anna.
‘He needs urgent revascularisation,’ he informed her. ‘I’m hoping you can fit him in on your list for tomorrow.’
Anna closed her eyes for a split second as she groaned inwardly. She opened them to find herself under intense scrutiny.
‘Is that a problem?’ Luke asked. ‘You don’t have any elective patients on the list?’
‘I do, but I’ve just been talking to a Mrs Melton and reassuring her. She’s stable but has severe triple vessel disease. This is her third admission for surgery because she’s been bumped off the list for urgent cases on the last two occasions.’
‘Has she had a major infarct? An arrest?’
‘No.’
‘Come and look at Roger’s films and then we can discuss it. Have you got viewing facilities in your office?’
She did, but Anna was aware of a strong reluctance to take Luke there. She had chosen not to take over his office in his absence and her space was relatively small. It was also the most personal space she had here at work.
She was already a little too aware of this man. His size and reputation and … and whatever it was that was exerting a tugging sensation on something emotional. Not to mention the danger that frisson of potential attraction had represented. She didn’t want him invading a personal space. Not yet. Not until she felt a lot more confident in her interactions with him and that wasn’t going to be until she’d resolved the dilemma she was in.
‘The seminar room’s closer. Where we hold the departmental meetings.’
‘Of course. Have you got the time now?’
‘Yes. I’ve finished the ward round.’
The round Luke had been supposed to join her for, but if he noticed any reprimand in her dry tone he gave no indication of it. He led the way down the corridor, his pace fast enough to keep Anna a half step behind. The hint of asymmetry in the way he moved had become a noticeable limp by the time they reached the lifts but Luke didn’t pause. He pushed open the fire-stop doors and headed up the stairs.
Commenting on something as personal, not to mention physical, as the aftermath of his injury seemed inappropriate. In the same ball park as asking Charlotte if she was pregnant, and this wasn’t remotely like the far more social setting of the hospital canteen with its ‘time out’ from work atmosphere. This was work and Luke’s focus was entirely professional. He had no difficulty using the computerised system to bring the images from the catheter laboratory onto the large screen in the meeting room.
‘As you can see, there’s a seventy to eighty per cent stenosis on the left anterior descending and diffuse disease over a significant segment of the vessel. And that’s not all. There’s a critical stenosis in the circumflex. Here … see?’
‘Yes.’ Anna watched and listened. It was quite obvious that Roger was in more urgent need of surgery than her Mrs Melton. As the head of department, Luke would have been within his rights to simply order her to juggle lists but instead he was taking the time to put all the information in front of her, presumably with the intention of giving her the opportunity to make the call.
Exactly the way they should be interacting as colleagues. There was every reason to take a moment to admire the way he was dealing with the situation but there really shouldn’t have been any space in Anna’s head to be so aware of the way Luke moved his hands as he spoke. Of how elegant those movements were for those large hands with their clever, tapered fingers.
It was quite reasonable to appreciate the way he spoke so clearly too and the transparent speed with which his mind worked, but that didn’t excuse the enjoyment Anna found she was getting from the timbre of that deep voice. She brushed off the visceral reactions. So he was intelligent and articulate. She should have expected nothing else in someone who had beaten her in a job application.
But perhaps that underlying awareness of him as a person and not simply a surgeon made her more aware of his physical issues. When they had finished coming to a mutually agreeable compromise on theatre lists, which would see Mrs Melton staying on as an inpatient until her surgery could be scheduled, Luke stood up. His face was grim and he blinked with slow deliberation, as though he was in pain but determined to ignore it. Or switch it off. The action took Anna straight back to their time in Theatre that morning and she knew she couldn’t avoid broaching the subject.
‘How’s your leg?’ she found herself asking. ‘I understand you suffered a fairly serious injury?’
‘I survived.’ Luke’s tone told her it wasn’t a welcome subject for discussion. ‘It’s improving all the time.’ His stare was expressionless. ‘Why do you ask?’
Anna had to fight back the urge to apologise for asking a personal question. His eyes were so blue. So intense. No way could she simply dismiss that sharp squeezing sensation occurring deep in her belly. It might have been a very long time since she’d experienced a shaft of desire but it was all too easy to recognise. She looked away.
‘I’ve taken on a position as your assistant. If you have problems that I could help with, please don’t hesitate to tell me.’
Luke made an incredulous sound, as though Anna would be incapable of giving him any assistance. That she had no idea what she was talking about. The sound rankled. She looked up to meet his gaze again.
‘If, for example, you find it hard to stay on your feet for a long theatre session.’
A corner of his mouth lifted. Just a fraction. A sardonic twist but enough of a curl for Anna to realise she had yet to see Luke smile. He certainly wasn’t about to now. His expression was anything but friendly or relaxed. Her heart skipped a beat and then sped up but it was too late to swallow any words that had been spoken and try to get back onto safe ground.
She had seen his pain when Luke knew how good he was at hiding it, and it seemed like he was exposing a physical flaw. Almost as bad as that loss of focus in Theatre that morning had been. Anna had been the only person to pick up on that, as well.
He’d barely met the woman and yet it felt like she was inside a very personal space. As for offering to help with his problems. Ha! She didn’t know anything.
No one here did.
And yet the idea was appealing. To have someone in his corner who was prepared to listen even if they couldn’t begin to understand.
To have someone to hold at night.
Whoa! Where the hell had that come from?
Luke could manage being alone. He had to. Just as well he’d learned to bury the kind of emotional involvement that could make reality too hard to deal with. He might be back in a very different reality now but the ability to remain detached at some level was just as important. More important, maybe, given that he felt the despair of a meaningless existence pressing in on him from all sides.
He was looking into a future that had only one bright spot. His work. And Anna was trying to undermine it. Something like fear made him straighten and defend himself by attacking.
‘Are you suggesting I’m physically incapable of doing my job?’ He had her pinned with his gaze. ‘Hoping that it might prove too much and I’ll quietly go away and let you take over again?’
He saw her eyes widen and felt a flash of remorse at being so harsh. He also heard the swift intake of her breath but he didn’t give her time to speak. He couldn’t afford to back down. Admitting defeat wasn’t something Luke Davenport did willingly.
‘This is my home,’ he continued. ‘Where I live and where I work. Where my future is. I’m back and I have no desire to go anywhere else.’
Which one of them was he trying to convince here?
‘I wasn’t suggesting anything.’ Anna’s tone was clipped and very cool. ‘Maybe I was hoping there might be a satisfactory explanation for what happened in Theatre this morning. For your slow response to a significant bleed.’
A moment’s silence hung heavily between them. Not that Luke had any intention of denying the accusation or trying to excuse himself.
‘I lost focus,’ he admitted simply. ‘It won’t happen again.’
He saw the way her features softened at his honesty. She wanted to believe him. But he could also see confusion in the depths of those astonishing green eyes. What had he been thinking, attacking her for asking what had been a perfectly reasonable question? No wonder she felt torn.
‘Are you intending to report the incident?’
She held his gaze. She had courage, this woman.
‘Would you?’
‘Yes,’ Luke responded without hesitation. ‘Sloppy performance is never acceptable.’
Anna tilted her head in agreement but said nothing. They left the meeting room in silence. There seemed to be nothing more to be said.
So that was that. The subject was out in the open and he’d all but told her he expected it to be reported. All he had to do now was wait until someone, presumably Albert White or one of the other hospital administrators, came to have a little chat with him.
It didn’t happen the next day.
If anything, Luke got the impression that Anna hadn’t said anything at all about him that wasn’t complimentary, judging by comments made in the departmental meeting the next morning.
More than one member of the cardiology and cardiothoracic surgical staff said admiring things about Colin Herbert’s surgery. The congratulatory buzz when Roger’s case came up during the discussion on revised theatre lists was actually embarrassing.
Luke cut it short. ‘I had some very able assistance from Dr Bartlett,’ he told the group briskly. ‘And she’s the one with the real work to do with his CABG today.’
That coronary artery bypass grafting was well under way by the time Luke left his administrative tasks and headed for the theatre suite. He didn’t don a gown or mask and enter the theatre. Instead, he slipped quietly into the observation deck and sat, probably unnoticed, in the far corner. You could see what was going on and hear what was being said and, if you wanted, you could focus on one person and make judgments about their ability. Their personality even. That was why he had requested that the space be closed during his surgery yesterday. An unusual case would have attracted as many people as could have squeezed in here and, on some level, he would have been aware of it.
Anna wasn’t aware of him. He could watch every movement and hear every comment. He could feel the time and care she took with every meticulous stitch as she took the veins harvested from Roger’s legs and used them to make new conduits to take blood to where it was needed in the heart muscle. Her voice was as calm as her movements. She was polite in her requests and prepared to discuss anything with the anaesthetist or bypass machine technicians. She spoke frequently to her registrar as well, asking questions and explaining her own decisions. A natural teacher, then.
With a voice that he couldn’t imagine getting tired of listening to. Not when it was coupled with a brain that was clearly as focused but as flexible as her hands were. An impressive mix.
He stayed where he was only until the blood flow in the new coronary arteries was deemed acceptable and Roger was successfully taken off bypass. He would see Anna again today and maybe she would let him know who she had decided to speak to. He couldn’t pre-empt her by speaking to someone himself because that would make it a bigger issue than it actually was. It wasn’t going to happen again because he was in control now. Of every waking moment, at least.
But nothing more was said about it despite their paths crossing frequently when they shared a busy outpatient clinic and more than once during ward rounds and departmental meetings. By Friday, both Colin and Roger were on the ward and recuperating well and finally, late that afternoon, Luke got a call to the office of St Piran’s chief executive officer.
‘Luke.’ Albert White shook one hand and gripped Luke’s other shoulder at the same time. ‘I’m so sorry this has taken so long. It’s been a hectic week that included a day or two in London. Welcome back. It’s good to see you.’
‘It’s good to see you too.’ And it was, except that he could feel the distance between them. He’d been on another planet since he had last worked here. But Albert was a familiar face. Part of the anchor that Luke hoped to use to stabilise his life.
‘How’s the family?’
‘All well when I last heard any news.’
‘I was astonished to hear that your parents had taken off to New Zealand, of all places. I hear they’re living on a military base in North Island?’
‘They are indeed. Dad’s taken an administrative position. He calls it a semi-retirement but I can’t see him ever not being full-time army.’
‘No. And your older brother?’
‘Currently in Australia. Helping train their SAS.’
Albert shook his head. ‘Army family through and through. At least we’ve got one of the Davenport boys back again.’
‘Yes.’ The word was clipped. Luke didn’t want to discuss the ‘Davenport boy’ who would never make it back.
There was a moment’s silence, which seemed appropriate, and when Albert spoke again his tone was more serious, acknowledging so many things that were not going to be said.
‘How’s the leg?’
‘Oh, you know. Still attached. Still works. I’m not complaining.’
Albert chuckled. ‘Works pretty well from what I’ve been hearing. What’s with the commando techniques in the canteen? Leaping tall buildings on the agenda, too?’
Luke summoned a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Well done, anyway. I hear the chap’s doing really well.’
‘He is. Dr Bartlett did a quadruple bypass on him. She’s an excellent surgeon.’
‘She is indeed.’ The glance Luke received held a hint of relief. Any awkward subjects were being left well behind. ‘So things are working out, then? You two going to be able to work as a team?’
Luke couldn’t detect even a hint that the CEO might be fishing for any confessions regarding a bumpy start. Maybe he should say something about it himself but if Anna had chosen not to, perhaps he should respect her decision. Albert didn’t seem to notice that his silence was covering a moment of confusion.
‘Not that I expected any problems, but it was good to hear Anna singing your praises the other day. A pericardectomy, I hear?’
‘Urn … yes. First case. What did she say?’
‘That you did the entire procedure off bypass. That she was delighted to have the opportunity to learn something new.’
About the procedure? Or about him?
This meeting was nothing more than touching base. A welcome home.
‘Come and have dinner some time soon. Joan would love to catch up.’
‘Sure. Maybe when I’ve had time to find my feet properly.’ Luke hoped his vague acceptance would not seem rude but he wasn’t ready to get drawn into a segment of the St Piran’s community that knew his family so well. He wasn’t here because of the family connection. He was here because he’d had nowhere else to go.
Besides, he was getting into a routine now. An icy swim in the ocean at daybreak to chase away the night’s demons. As many hours as possible focused entirely on his job and then exercise and work-related reading until he was hopefully exhausted enough to sleep for more than a few hours. He didn’t want to tamper with what seemed to be working. Or remind himself of the past, which would only emphasise too clearly how different life was now. Control was paramount.
Control could be undermined by confusion, however. Anna had had a whole week to decide how to present her concerns about his skills but she hadn’t done so.
Why not?
Not that Luke wasn’t grateful but he was definitely puzzled. She’d agreed that the matter should be reported. That sloppy performance wasn’t acceptable. And yet she had apparently accepted his.
Why?
He would have spoken to her about it before leaving work that day but it was late and she had already gone. It wasn’t hard to use his influence to find her contact details but Luke discovered that she was living well along the windy coast road that led to Penhally.
A phone call to thank her for making his first week back smoother than it might have otherwise been seemed too impersonal. What he said might even be taken the wrong way—tacit approval for not reporting the incident perhaps. Taking a fifteen-or twenty-minute drive to what was quite possibly only a small collection of dwellings and knocking on her door after dark was a long way too far towards the other end of the spectrum, however. Far too personal. Why was he even considering it?
It didn’t seem nearly as inappropriate on Saturday morning. Especially as the world in general seemed a brighter place. Days and days of grey skies and intermittent rain had been blown inland by a stiff sea breeze and the sun was making a determined effort to raise the temperature by at least a degree or two. The surf had been high enough that morning to make his swim an adrenaline rush, and his leg hadn’t collapsed under him when he’d attempted a slow jog on the softer sand.
Yes. For the first time since arriving back, Luke felt that things were a little less bleak. Some time out on a day like this to drive up to Penhally and revisit old haunts was an attractive idea. He might have intended to wait until Monday to give Anna the excellent article on restrictive cardiomyopathy he’d come across in one of the journals he’d been reading until the early hours of that morning but if it was in the car, he’d have the perfect excuse to drop in at her house on his way past if he chose to.
He did choose to.
Maybe because the signpost to the lane she lived on was so easy to spot. Or perhaps because the house he found at her address was so unlike what he might have expected. Not even a house. More like a cottage with its latticed windows and some kind of evergreen creeper scrambling along the faded shingles of its roof. The small garden was overgrown and … it had a picket fence, for heaven’s sake!
If someone had asked him where he thought Dr Bartlett would be living, he would have imagined a modern apartment. Streamlined and minimalist. Devoid of personality—hers or its own. This cottage probably had tourists stopping to take its picture and a name somewhere under the tangled, prickly branches obscuring half the fence. Bay View Cottage perhaps, given the glorious sweep of Penhally Bay on display. It was only a short walk down the hill to get to a beach and, given the rocky coves he had noticed just before turning off the main road, the coastline was due to provide one of those gems that surfers searched for.
Sure enough, when he left the car and went a little further uphill towards the front door of the cottage, he could see a stretch of white sand beyond the boulders. This cottage might be rundown but it was sitting on valuable land. Any closer to Penhally or St Piran and it would be worth an absolute fortune. Was that why Anna had chosen it? As an investment?
That made far more sense than a desire to inhabit what had to feel like an alien space. Having come to terms with the apparent contradiction, Luke was now hesitant in knocking on her door. Had he passed a letterbox? He could leave the article in there and then explain it on Monday.
He might have done exactly that if it hadn’t been for the sudden loud noise from inside the cottage. A crashing sound not dissimilar to the one he’d heard in the canteen earlier in the week.
No scream followed the sound but he could hear the dismay in Anna’s voice.
‘Oh … no!’