Читать книгу Nyc Angels & Gold Coast Angels Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 11

‘EXCUSE ME A minute, Tommy.’ Jack stepped outside and Nina assumed that she was meant to follow, but of course she had it wrong. Instead, Jack spoke with an elderly, very elegant woman, who looked less than impressed when he headed back towards Tommy’s cubicle, offering Nina a brief explanation. ‘Lewis is stuck with a multi-trauma, I’m just waiting for the registrar to come and take over. I just want to make sure that there’s nothing medically urgent that is wrong.’

‘Can I just have a brief word before you go in, Jack?’ He gave a slight hiss of frustration as he turned around. ‘Tommy is a very guarded child. Initially he had nothing to do with his father and responded only to me, but over the past months …’

She didn’t finish; instead she watched as Jack’s grey eyes shuttered as they so often did when she spoke. ‘You don’t want to hear what I have to say?’

‘At this stage, no. I want to find out from the child what has happened and given that you have had dealings with the family and that Tommy seems to trust you, I’d like you to assist. Do you think you can?’

‘Of course, but—’

‘I like facts Nina,’ he interrupted. ‘I like to explore things for myself and I do not want to walk in there with my thought process crowded by yours.’

‘Sure.’

He was arrogant, dismissive, even rude, but there was no mistaking that he was brilliant with Tommy. He didn’t rush in, he just chatted to the little boy for a couple of minutes and then asked him something about his parents.

‘Tommy’s mum is deceased,’ Nina said quietly, and had he given her just one moment to speak he might not be feeling such an insensitive bastard right now. At least, Nina hoped that was what he was thinking.

Of course it wasn’t.

Jack had been rather hoping Tommy might speak a little for himself, but instead he sat silent and pale, his mop of dark curls unkempt and unwashed. He had dark circles under his eyes and, Jack noted, despite gentle prompting, he remained silent.

‘Okay, Tommy,’ Jack said, pulling on his gloves, ‘we’re just going to take a look at that cut of yours.’ He looked at Nina and for the first time that day he was smiling in her direction—for the sake of the patient, of course. ‘You know Nina, I hear.’

Tommy’s eyes darted towards her and she gave him a smile. ‘We’ve met a few times, haven’t we, Tommy?’ Nina walked over and looked at the cut. It was deep and infected and it was clear that it should have been medically dealt with at the time it had happened. ‘That looks sore,’ Nina said. ‘What happened?’ She saw the confusion in Tommy’s eyes. ‘It’s okay,’ Nina said. ‘We just want to find out what happened so we can make sure it gets better.’

‘Where’s Dad?’ The question was aimed at Nina, and it was the first words Jack had heard Tommy say.

‘Dad’s just having a seat and a drink in another area.’ She made it clear, Jack noted, that his dad was well away and that he could talk freely, and she asked him again about the cut.

‘I don’t know.’

Gently Jack examined him, probing his little stomach, exploring his rib cage, noting that Tommy winced when he did so. Jack pulled on his stethoscope and listened to Tommy’s chest, but looked up as someone stepped into the cubicle.

‘Sorry about that.’ A woman smiled. ‘I’m Lorna Harris, locum registrar.’

‘It’s fine Lorna, I’ve got this,’ Jack dismissed, but then a nurse popped her head around the door and explained that Elspeth was getting impatient.

Jack closed his eyes in mounting frustration. He opened them to two very dark blue ones and the serious face of Nina, and for the first time that morning he said what was on his mind. ‘Do you know what I hate about charity?’

His voice was low and for Nina’s ears only, the words not even for her really, they just came from a dark place inside him called frustration, not that she could understand. Jack never expected her to answer. He was already pulling off his gloves, and he certainly never thought that she might get it, but at the sound of her voice he stilled.

‘The cost?’

Jack gave a wry smile, noted the small circles of colour rise on her cheeks as still he kept looking. He would have loved to continue this conversation, would have loved to say more, but the world outside waited. He turned and apologised to Tommy, told the little guy that Lorna would take good care of him now.

‘Will I see you again later?’ Tommy suddenly asked.

Jack had many noncommittal answers that he used to reply to questions such as this one, but apart from Nina he was the only person Tommy had spoken to, and though Jack did his best not to get too pulled in, especially with cases as emotional as this one, for reasons he didn’t want to explore, yes, he would be following up on this case.

In detail.

‘I’ll come and check on you later, but it probably won’t be till tonight,’ Jack said. ‘So you may already be asleep.’

Certainly Tommy was going to be admitted.

He handed over his findings to Lorna and then stepped out. Nina found herself blushing and unsettled by their brief conversation and just the effect of Jack Carter close up. He unsettled her in many areas—filthy rich, filthy morals, combined with a brilliance that somehow, despite his title, was wasted.

She’d always thought him shallow; a spoiled rich boy playing doctor, but she had sensed that he really wanted to be in here with Tommy, not out there talking with a benefactor, and for the first time she wondered if it was always so easy for him. Not that she had long to dwell on it. Despite gentle questioning, Tommy could offer no explanation for the cut and the bruising.

‘Yes.’ He started to cry when he admitted that his dad had been really cross that morning when he had wet the bed again.

Tommy had stopped wetting the bed three months ago.

Lorna was nice to Tommy, but not as thorough as Nina found Jack to be, and despite Nina telling her the complicated history, it was clear by the time they went into speak with Mike, Lorna had already made her mind up.

‘As tragic as their history is,’ Lorna said after interviewing Mike, ‘we have a child with injuries neither he nor the father can account for, a nasty, infected cut that the father has not sought help for and a father that is hostile and angry towards staff. He already has a history with Child Protection.’

‘I’ve explained why.’

‘I know you have, but he’s also admitted how frustrated he is that Tommy has started wetting the bed again.’ She paused as they were told Tommy’s X-rays were in, and as she checked them Nina’s heart sank. ‘Two fractured ribs.’

They spoke at length and a child abuse screen was ordered—bloods would be taken and a full skeletal survey done, and in the meantime Nina would obtain an order that the father could only visit Tommy while supervised.

It was a long, busy day—the emergency with Tommy was just added to her routine work and by the time Nina had caught up with Sienna the clock was nudging nine p.m., but still there was work to do.

Nina had had a long conversation with Mike, and, despite all evidence pointing to him, something simply didn’t sit right with her. Tommy had been desperately upset when his father had left, and Nina had assured Mike that there would be a case worker available first thing in the morning to supervise his access. Then she headed back into the general ward, where Tommy had been admitted, and went over and spoke to him, reassuring him that he was okay and that his father would be back in the morning.

Jack was sitting in the small office, going through Tommy’s notes, and he looked up as Nina entered the darkened ward. Her hair, which had been rather more neatly pinned up that morning, had bit by bit worked its way out of the pins and fallen in soft tendrils around her face. She must be exhausted, Jack thought, remembering that she had been called out for an emergency even before that morning’s meeting.

He wondered again if there was a Mr Wilson, though, remembering the blush that had spread on her cheeks that moment when their eyes had locked, he was certain that there was no Ms Wilson.

He was so not going there! Jack looked down at the notes he was reading—the last thing he needed was a fling with someone as intense as Nina Wilson.

Don’t even think about it. Jack grinned to himself.

Maybe his own lack of sleep was catching up with him.

Still, he did find himself looking at her again, saw that she was in no rush with Tommy, and wondered how she had the mental energy to be so involved.

And then she looked over towards the office and caught his eye, and Jack, for once, felt a little uncomfortable, as if he’d been caught staring. But he didn’t look away, just watched as she made her way over to him.

‘Nina.’ He gave her a nod and he noted that she closed the door behind her.

‘Could I have a word with you?’

‘Sure.’

‘I’m worried.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘Which is nothing new. I always am … but tonight I’m really worried.’

‘Go on.’

‘I’ve just spent another couple of hours talking to Mike and I’ve just been in again to Tommy and I just don’t think that Mike’s responsible for the bruising.’ She looked at him. ‘Have you read the notes?’

‘I’ve just started.’

‘Have you read my notes?’

‘Not yet.’ Part of Jack’s frustration was that he never actually got a chance to sit down and do that. He was always relying on handovers, catching up. He had read Lorna’s findings and wasn’t quite happy with the detail of her notes, would have preferred to have thoroughly examined Tommy himself rather than rely on a locum registrar’s findings. He looked at Nina, saw the tension in her face and her genuine concern. ‘Tell me what you know.’

She actually exhaled in relief before she started talking.

‘I’ve been working with the family for six months, since the mother’s death,’ Nina explained. ‘Prior to Kathy’s death, the marriage was in trouble—they had major financial issues and Mike was away all week working, and when he came home at weekends Kathy often went to her mother’s, so he hardly saw Tommy. Six months ago, Mike left for a trip after a huge argument with Kathy. He didn’t ring her that day, but the next day, when he did, she didn’t answer her phone and he figured she still wasn’t talking to him.

‘When she still didn’t pick up the next day, Mike had a neighbour go and check on her. She was dead and Tommy was with her, hungry and dehydrated …’

Jack wasn’t shocked, he had heard many stories like this before, but he saw tears well up in her eyes and her involvement in the case unnerved him, challenged him even. ‘Given the row and the circumstances, there was suspicion as to Mike’s involvement in the death. While Tommy was admitted here, the father was flying back to face police questioning, and Child Protection was naturally called in. That’s the reason for my involvement.’

‘Okay.’ His expression was deadpan, but his mind filtered the information, and, Nina noted, he really was listening.

‘Tommy had shut down from the trauma of being with his mother’s body, but apart from that there were issues with bonding with his father.’

‘Explain.’

She smiled. He didn’t waste words, but gave her a chance to speak.

‘When I first met Tommy and his father, Tommy took all his direction from me. He had more connection with me than with his own father. As you know, a child is normally unsure around strangers, but not in this case. Mike had had very few dealings with Tommy and that’s what we’ve been working on, whereas the psychologist has been dealing more with the issues of losing his mother. They’ve come on in leaps and bounds—despite enormous financial stress, Tommy and Mike are a real unit. He looks to his father now for prompts, he’s asking to see him right now …’

‘The father clearly has a temper problem. I saw the way he was with you.’

‘Yes,’ Nina said. ‘But never with Tommy.’

‘Never?’

‘He was cross this morning about the wet bed, but that was out of frustration and fear. He doesn’t understand the bruises and the cut. Mike told me that he was terrified that we’d take him away, what we’d think, that’s why he didn’t bring him in—which, yes, was a terrible call …’

Jack nodded. It had been a terrible call but one he had seen many parents make.

‘I remember one child that was referred to us for unexplained bruising had leukaemia …’

‘He’s had blood work.’ Jack shook his head. ‘He hasn’t got that and leukaemia wouldn’t account for two fractured ribs and an infected cut that actually looks as if it’s combined with a burn—and that he’s resumed bedwetting.’

‘Fine,’ Nina said, and Jack frowned.

‘What does that mean?’

‘You’ve already made up your mind.’ She walked out of his office and to the nurses’ station and set up her computer to input her notes—God, she was an angry thing, Jack thought. He felt like walking over and tapping her on the shoulder, telling her that, no, he hadn’t made up his mind, that he was still trying to catch up on the notes, and that he didn’t jump in with assumptions. He looked at all the facts and then he made up his mind.

So he started to.

He read the psychologist’s notes though they dealt more with the issues surrounding the mother, and then he read Nina’s.

They were incredibly detailed and her observations were astute, outlining how Tommy had first responded to her, that he had been precocious almost, sitting on her knee, playing with her lanyard, taking no direction from the father he knew, but in later visits he had turned more and more to his father, so much so that Nina had been about to close the case.

So what had gone wrong these last weeks?

Jack looked up and saw Nina tapping away on her laptop, then she stopped and yawned and gave her head a little shake. He watched as she stood and headed for the water cooler and then came back to the computer, frowning as she read through her notes. Then she must have hit ‘send’, because an update appeared in the notes Jack was reading.

And he read Nina’s account of today.

She was a brilliant report writer. He had expected more passion, a little dig at the medial staff perhaps, but instead she had detailed all that had happened, and her conclusion that, given the injuries and the lack of any explanation, she had obtained an urgent court order that allowed supervised access only for the next seventy-two hours.

And Jack sat and racked his brains.

He shut out all chatter.

He was head of paeds for more reasons than his financial pull.

No one argument swayed him, no tearful plea prompted his signature on anything that he didn’t believe in.

Jack walked over to the bedside where Nina now stood stroking Tommy’s dark curls as he slept. ‘Do you always get this involved?’

‘Always.’ She didn’t look up. ‘Right now my department is all this little guy’s got.’

‘As well as the medical staff.’

‘I’m talking about family.’ She looked up. ‘He wants his father and I’ve been to court to stop that contact; it’s not a decision that can be taken lightly. I have a worker booked for nine a.m. and she will supervise a visit, but really Tommy needs his father tonight.’

‘I’ve been reading through the notes,’ Jack said, only he didn’t get to finish as he was interrupted by a sudden wail from a sleeping Tommy. Nina looked down, moved to comfort him as his eyes opened and he sat up, clearly terrified.

‘It’s okay, Tommy,’ Nina said, sure the little boy was having a nightmare, but instead Jack told her to step out, already pressing the bell for assistance. He knew long before Nina did what was happening, because Tommy hadn’t woken up. He was experiencing an aura, a sudden panic before a seizure, and Tommy nearly bolted from the bed as Jack firmly held him, then laid him back down as his body gave way to spasms …

Nina felt sick. There was no question now that she should go home and she headed to the office, watching as the nurses ran with the trolley, IVs were put up and drugs were given.

Yet nothing seemed to be working.

She heard the call go out for the anaesthetist and then she saw through a chink in the curtains that after only brief respite young Tommy’s body was starting to seize again.

A grim-faced Jack came into the office a while later.

‘He’s anaesthetised and we’re taking him down for an urgent head CT,’ Jack told her. ‘You need to let his father know.’

‘What do I tell him?’

‘Just tell him to get here,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll be the one to tell him that it’s not looking good.’