Читать книгу The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal - Margaret McDonagh - Страница 7

CHAPTER ONE

February

‘FRANCESCA? My goodness, lass, is that you?’

After responding to a call from the A and E department to carry out a series of emergency X-rays on a road-accident victim, Francesca Scott was returning to the radiology unit when she heard someone call her name. Glancing round, she saw an older woman sitting in a wheelchair at one side of the reception area, separate from the handful of other people who were awaiting attention. Recognition dawned as Francesca observed the plump figure, her gaze travelling over a rounded face framed by short grey curls. A familiar face that was kindly and surprisingly unlined by the ravages of a difficult life…a face that now bore the signs of bruises that had Francesca’s stomach twisting into knots and suspicion sending warning bells ringing in her mind.

Old memories flowed, fast and furious, nearly overwhelming her, making her feel hesitant, vulnerable, taking her back to the girl she had been ten years ago rather than the woman she had since fought to become. Part of her wanted to run, to push the myriad of scary emotions away, but she could never turn her back on the woman who had recognised her and reached out to her. Feeling as if she was crossing some unbridgable chasm to an unknown destination rather than a few feet of floor space, Francesca closed the distance separating them. As she sat on a chair beside the woman, she studied the bruising and noted the way she was cradling her right arm in a sling.

‘Hello, Mrs Devlin.’

A smile bloomed, bringing a twinkle to faded green eyes that displayed pleasure and warmth, making her look much younger than her sixty-three years. ‘It’s wonderful to see you, Francesca!’

‘Thank you. And you. I wouldn’t have wanted you to be here under these circumstances, though.’ Trying to keep barriers erected against anything personal, or anything related to the past, Francesca focused on Sadie Devlin’s injuries and why she had been left alone. ‘Have you been seen, or are you waiting for an X-ray?’

‘I’m not sure what’s happening. The nurse who brought me here from Casualty went off to talk to a friend and hasn’t come back. She’s a bit of a flighty one.’ The admission was made with a mix of wry amusement and a hint of frustration.

Francesca cursed under her breath, pretty sure who the culprit was. ‘Do you know her name?’

‘Olivia, I think. Dyed blonde hair, lots of make-up.’

It figured. She tried to hide her annoyance at wretched Olivia Barr, who had no doubt gone off after some man who had caught her fancy. ‘Is that the X-ray request form?’ she asked, gesturing to the slip the older woman held in her lap.

‘Yes, that’s right. Shall I give it to you?’

‘Please.’ Francesca stood up. ‘I’ll find out what’s going on and get you booked in.’

Mrs Devlin’s relief was obvious. ‘Thanks, lass.’

A quick check at the reception desk with Kim, one of the unit’s clerks, confirmed that Olivia had failed to organise the requested X-rays and had left her charge unattended for some time. After a hectic morning in Radiology, things were beginning to wind down, but as her colleagues on duty were all busy with patients who had prebooked appointments, Francesca offered to handle Sadie Devlin’s case herself.

‘I thought you were on your lunch-break now?’ Kim fretted as she wrote up the necessary paperwork and entered the details on the computer.

‘It’s OK.’ Francesca was determined to ensure that Mrs Devlin did not have to wait another moment before she was made comfortable. ‘I’m no longer on call for A and E and I’ll still have time for a quick snack before I start on the appointments I have scheduled for this afternoon.’

The younger girl smiled as she handed over the file. ‘Thanks, Francesca. I was getting a bit worried, especially when Olivia disappeared and just left the lady there. Things have been so busy I haven’t had a minute, but I was going to speak to her if Olivia didn’t come back soon.’

Making a mental note to have words with the tardy nurse, Francesca returned to Mrs Devlin and wheeled her to a vacant X-ray room.

‘I’m not jumping the queue, am I?’ the thoughtful lady fretted.

‘Not at all. I’m just sorry you had to wait this long.’

Francesca prepared things in readiness to take the required images. As she turned to face the woman once more, dread filled her, a lump forming in her throat as she wondered how to voice her concerns about how she had been hurt.

‘What happened today, Mrs Devlin? Did you have an accident or…?’ Her words trailed off and she cursed the tinge of colour that warmed her pale cheeks, betraying her discomfort and, no doubt, making the direction of her thoughts all too clear.

Mrs Devlin sent her an understanding smile as the unspoken question hung in the air between them. ‘It’s all right, Francesca. Really. Yours is a natural assumption to make, after all. But on this occasion it was all my own fault. I climbed onto a chair to change a lightbulb. So silly of me.’ She sighed, shaking her head. ‘It was more rickety than I thought, and when it gave way, I overbalanced. The next moment I was on the floor. Instinct had me putting my hand out to save myself. I knew right away that my arm was broken.’

‘Did you hit your head at all?’

‘No, but I grazed my face on the chair as I fell…hence the bruises. The nice doctor in Casualty was very thorough checking me over and my arm seems to be the only worry.’

‘That’s good news.’ She smiled, relieved there was nothing more serious going on. ‘Let’s get these X-rays taken, then.’

‘Francesca…’

A change in the tone of voice alerted her and she looked up, seeing both determination and the shadows of past pain in the older woman’s green eyes. ‘Yes?’

‘Mick, my husband, died five years ago.’ The announcement was delivered after a short pause and without emotion, but a welter of meaning resonated in those seven words.

Francesca bit her lip, unsure what to say. She couldn’t express sorrow for the loss of a man who had been brutal and cruel, at whose hands Mrs Devlin and her three children had suffered for years and whose often violent crimes had led to several spells in prison.

The woman reached out with her uninjured hand to pat Francesca’s arm. ‘You don’t have to say anything, lass. I know what people thought of him—of us as a family. Many wondered why I stayed, but it was for the children. I couldn’t abandon them and Mick would never have let me take them away from him. My being there gave them some protection.’

Only at the expense of her own, Francesca wanted to protest, but held her tongue. She was angry on Mrs Devlin’s behalf, she always had been, but even through the impotence of youthful rage, she had also long admired her courage and her love for her children. Not that all of them had deserved her selflessness. It was true that everyone in Strathlochan had known the history of the Devlin family and had spoken of them—the men, at least—with disgust and wariness. Rumours and prejudices had been rife about them and Francesca had grown up fearing Mr Devlin and the two older boys, Jon and Pete, who had shown all the signs of following in their father’s unsavoury footsteps.

Her own home life had been nothing to write home about but for all the problems surrounding the Devlins, Francesca had always envied them Sadie. Her care for her children had been obvious, even for Jon and Pete, who had repaid her dedication so shabbily. To Francesca, Sadie Devlin was all a mother should be…the kind of mother she herself had always longed for. So many times growing up she had admired her from afar, had played make-believe in her mind, pretending Sadie was her mother and that someone loved her for herself, always had a kind word for her, a ready hug. Reality had always intruded—a reality without the love and cuddles and kind words she had so craved.

Pushing aside unwanted memories, thoughts of things she had long since tried to banish and shut away in a dark, secret part of her mind, Francesca focused on her task, being as gentle as she could as she positioned the injured arm so she could capture the clearest picture of the suspected fracture. Explaining exactly what she was doing and ensuring her patient was as comfortable as possible, Francesca retreated to the protected cubicle while the X-ray was taken.

‘I need to take one more picture from another angle and then we’ll be finished,’ she explained, returning to the main room. ‘I’ll be as careful as I can.’ Even so, Mrs Devlin winced as her arm was moved and repositioned. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, lass, it has to be done.’

Francesca worked swiftly to minimise any discomfort and, once she had completed the X-rays, resettled Mrs Devlin’s arm in the supportive sling. The images were soon ready to send to the A and E department but there was still no sign of Olivia Barr. Angry that the nurse had deserted her patient, Francesca decided to return Mrs Devlin to Casualty herself.

‘How long have you been back in Strathlochan, lass?’

The question caught Francesca by surprise, once more reawakening things she wished to keep dormant and in permanent hibernation. ‘Nearly three years now,’ she confided as she guided the wheelchair down the maze of corridors that were so familiar to her but could easily confuse the unwary.

‘And you like it here at the hospital?’ Sadie probed.

‘I do. I love my job.’

Saying the words out loud confirmed the truth of them. For the first time in her life she felt she fitted somewhere, Francesca admitted. She relished the variety of the work she did, both within the radiological unit itself and when she was on call to A and E. The buzz and uncertainty of the emergency work appealed to her, being quite different from the order and organisation of the unit and set appointments.

As a rule, she wasn’t good with people, but she enjoyed the interaction with her patients, devoting herself to their care and doing her best for them while they were in her charge. Outside her professional life, once she shed her work persona, she avoided people as much as possible. She knew that her nickname around the hospital was the Ice Maiden but it didn’t bother her. The people who dubbed her that knew nothing about her or her life. She got on all right with most of her colleagues in the work environment, but any kind of social interaction made her uncomfortable.

She had a few people she counted as friends. One was A and E doctor Annie Webster, who was currently recovering from a frightening incident when she had been attacked while on duty three weeks ago, an assault that had nearly killed her. It had been a scary time and still made Francesca shiver when she thought of it. She had been on call in A and E when the assault had occurred and had done the ultrasound scan that had shown the flooding of blood into Annie’s pericardium from the stab wound to her heart.

Annie was now home and making a good recovery from the emergency thoracotomy that had saved her life. Francesca had been to visit her friend several times and, in the process, she was getting to know Annie’s fiancé, Nathan Shepherd, another trauma doctor who had recently come to Strathlochan to be with Annie. Theirs was a romantic story—not that Francesca had much time for romance. Not for herself, anyway. But she was very glad Annie was happy.

Francesca thought of the few other friends she had allowed into her life since her return to Strathlochan, including married doctors Cameron Kincaid and Ginger O’Neill, who ran the local Ackerman Centre for self-harm and eating disorders. Then there were nurse Gina McNaught and her Italian fiancé, Dr Seb Adriani, now working at the town’s new multi-purpose drop-in centre, and Frazer and Callie McInnes, both connected to Strathlochan’s air ambulance. Callie was a paramedic, but she had given up her flying role now she was pregnant, while flight doctor Frazer was considering returning to a hospital-based job when the baby was born.

Generally, though, she preferred animals to people, Francesca acknowledged. Animals didn’t let you down, didn’t judge you, didn’t lie or deceive.

‘It was a shock to discover you and your mother had left Strathlochan. We had no clue where you had gone,’ Sadie continued, startling Francesca from her wayward thoughts and surprising her even more that her absence had been noted at all. ‘And I’m so glad I’ve seen you today, lass. I had no idea you were home.’

Home. Francesca was relieved that she was behind the older woman so Sadie could not see her reaction to that word. She didn’t want to think of home, of childhood and all that meant. Once she had finished school after her Highers exams and had been old enough to make her own decisions, she had packed up and gone, deaf to the inducements, threats and promises of change. She’d ended up in Edinburgh where she had done her four-year training to be a diagnostic radiographer, a career that appealed to her interest in science and technology and, through her sporting activity, in anatomy and physiology.

Coming back to Strathlochan to take this job had been an act of defiance as much as anything else. It had been something she had felt she had to do and to face, even if no one but her understood the significance of it or knew of her inner struggle. She had carved out a good life here, had faced the demons and the memories, had moved on and was more settled than she had ever imagined she could be. The job provided constant variety and gave her independence to make decisions. Unlike some of her colleagues, she didn’t even mind the night shifts…indeed, she enjoyed them. Especially given the way the forward-thinking Trust ran Strathlochan’s hospital and medical services.

The local health board’s innovative management was one of the things that had impressed her so much when she had taken the job back here. Thought had been given to improving working conditions for doctors, nurses and other clinicians. While they still worked hard, and for long hours, their shifts had been changed from the old-style patterns still in place in many hospitals. In Strathlochan most now worked a rotation of five days on, two days off, three nights on and three days off. It had worked well and the majority of staff appreciated the schedule. It not only improved general quality of life, but it had created good teamwork and aided patient care.

Arriving back in the A and E department, Francesca checked Sadie back in at Reception and asked to speak to the doctor in charge of her case. She was relieved to discover it was Nathan Shepherd, not only because she felt comfortable working with him but because she knew his reputation for looking after his patients was fantastic. Sadie was in the best of hands. She gave Nathan the X-ray images, which showed a clean, straightforward Colles’ fracture of the radius near the wrist, a common injury and one which, in Sadie’s case, showed no displacement or angulation and which would need no manipulation. She also took a moment to inform him of Olivia Barr’s dereliction of duty.

From the anger and resignation in Nathan’s dark eyes, she didn’t imagine he was surprised at the news. ‘I’ll take care of it, Francesca,’ he promised, and she knew the transgression would not go unpunished.

‘How’s Annie doing?’

A rare smile softened his handsome face. ‘She’s getting better every day. Thanks for asking. Are you coming round to see her again soon?’

‘I’ll pop in on my way home after work,’ she promised. ‘I have my days off next week before starting a night shift so I’ll ask her if she’d like to have lunch then.’

‘Annie will be delighted. She always loves seeing you—you’re a great friend.’

Francesca gave a nod and stepped back, both warmed and yet unsettled by Nathan’s words, still edgy at the very concept of friendship and being emotionally close to people, even those she liked as much as she did Annie. ‘I’ll just say goodbye to Mrs Devlin, then I have to get back to the unit.’

‘Is she special to you?’ Nathan queried with evident interest.

‘I grew up here in Strathlochan.’ She paused, unsure what to say, how much to explain. ‘She was good to me when I was young.’

‘I’ll take care of her.’

Grateful for his understanding, she went to see her charge settled in the cubicle where Nathan would discuss her fracture and explain what was to be done. Francesca lingered a moment longer, feeling the pull of the past and stirrings of her childhood affection for this woman.

‘Are you going to be all right?’ A frown of concern creased her brow. The nature of her job meant she usually had only a brief connection with each patient, but she always did her best for those in her care. ‘Will you be able to get home?’

‘My next-door neighbour brought me in and is waiting for me.’

Partially reassured, Francesca smiled. ‘And will you be able to manage while your arm is in plaster? Is there anything I can do to help? Any shopping you need picked up?’ The offer was out before she could retract it, but the woman was shaking her head, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

‘It’s kind of you to worry about me, lass, and I much appreciate your thoughtfulness. But as soon as Luke hears what I have done he’ll be insisting I go to stay with him so he can take care of me. That boy would wrap me in cotton wool given half a chance,’ Mrs Devlin confided with a laugh.

Luke.

Francesca closed her eyes. Her heart lurched and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. Luke…the youngest son. So different from his scary, no-good father and bullying, troublesome brothers. Just hearing his name brought an overwhelming welter of emotions. To say she’d not thought of Luke in ages would be a lie. He had invaded her thoughts and her dreams with worrying regularity during the last decade. Seeing his mother again had opened up thoughts and feelings she had long tried to lock away because there was too much pain and longing and confusion. Luke, who had left town ten years ago when he had been eighteen. They’d had an unusual friendship. Nothing more. Yet she had built Luke up in her lonely teenage mind as her hero, had looked to him as her protector. Which was why her sixteen-year-old heart had been so broken, and why she had felt so betrayed when he had gone without a word, without so much as a backwards glance.

Unsettled by the tidal wave of disturbing memories, she said a hasty goodbye to Sadie, wishing her a speedy recovery. And then she fled. She didn’t want to think about Luke. Not after all this time. But however much she tried to fool herself to the contrary, she had never forgotten him. He was in her head far too frequently, a hazy shadow on the edge of her consciousness, giving her no rest.

Francesca squared her shoulders and gave herself a stern talking to as she walked back to the radiology unit, any thought of a hasty lunch forgotten in the need to bury herself in work to block out old hurts and disturbing memories.

She had been nothing to Luke. He hadn’t even known she had existed and had likely never thought about her again after he had left town. Growing up and forgetting all about him was long overdue.

Luke Devlin was in the past…and that was where he was going to stay.

The phone was ringing as Luke Devlin let himself into his soulless London flat. It was situated on the second floor of a small, purpose-built block on a noisy street within walking distance of the hospital where he worked…a street jammed with traffic and people and where the buildings crowded together, pressing in on him. It made him feel claustrophobic and long for the wide-open spaces and clean air of his home town of Strathlochan in Scotland.

Even after a decade he hadn’t really settled in London. He’d lived in this flat for four years and still didn’t know his neighbours. And, as much as he enjoyed his work and got along well with his colleagues on a professional level, he had few friends socially. Once a loner, always a loner. Or was the stigma of his name and his background so ingrained in him that he subconsciously put up barriers and kept people at a distance?

Dog tired, he cursed under his breath as the phone continued its insistent ring. He knew he had to answer it. But if it was one of the orthopaedic team calling him back to the hospital, he was not going to be pleased. He’d been up for a stupid number of hours and all he could think about was a hot shower before falling into bed. He was too exhausted to even bother to eat. Shrugging off his well-worn leather jacket and leaving it draped haphazardly over the back of the sofa, he flopped into an armchair, picked up the cordless handset and barked his name.

‘Devlin.’

‘Hello, love. You sound grumpy and worn out. Has it been a tough day?’

‘No more than usual, Ma.’ A smile came unbidden in response to the familiar voice. God, he missed her. The one constant in his life. ‘How are you?’ A too-long pause had his instincts on red alert. ‘Ma? What’s happened?’

The answering chuckle eased some of his tension. ‘I have good news and bad news.’

‘Tell me the bad news first.’ Leaning back in the chair and stretching his legs out, he tried to relax muscles that were stiff and aching after long hours standing at the operating table, assisting his boss in complicated spinal surgery.

‘Don’t be cross with me, Luke, I’m absolutely fine,’ his mother began, immediately warning him that she was far from all right. ‘I had a little accident and broke my arm.’

‘Ma!’

She tutted soothingly. ‘Now, then, don’t take on, Luke. The nice doctor at Strathlochan Hospital told me that it’s a clean and simple break and it should heal without problems.’

‘What did you do?’ Shaking his head, he listened to his mother’s confession, knowing there was no point in reprimanding her for acting so foolishly. ‘Are you in pain?’

‘It was very sore but I have some pills and I’m much more comfortable now it’s in plaster,’ she reassured him.

His weary brain rallied, thoughts and questions rushing at him. ‘Which doctor did you see?’ Meticulous at work but not the tidiest of people at home, he had to rummage through the clutter on the table near his chair to find a pad and pen.

He jotted down the name Nathan Shepherd, planning on ringing straight away to get the full information first hand and, if possible, to ask to see a copy of the X-ray. As a specialist orthopaedic registrar, bones were his life, and he wanted to satisfy himself that all was well with his mother’s arm.

‘How are you going to manage at home alone, Ma?’ he asked, voicing his concerns.

Despite a strong effort on his part, she refused to allow him to return to Scotland to collect her. Not that he had anticipated anything else. But a few moments later, and with suspiciously little argument, he did persuade her to come down to London on the train and stay with him for a while. He’d be much happier having her close so he could keep an eye on her progress. Her agreement had been too easy, however, and he was wary. He knew his mother. She was up to something.

‘You said there was good news, as well,’ he reminded her, allowing himself the luxury of relaxing again.

‘I did. And there is! You’ll never guess who took my X-rays.’

Luke rolled his eyes as his mother, ever the one for spinning out a good yarn, paused for effect. ‘I hope this person was kind to you.’

‘Oh, she was wonderful,’ his mother gushed, clearly smitten. Luke hid a groan, hoping this was not part of another unsubtle and completely pointless matchmaking plan. He was grateful, however, to the unknown woman who had apparently shown his mother such care, a fact she now confirmed as she related the tale of being abandoned by the unprofessional nurse and the subsequent rescue by the radiographer. ‘She was very gentle and very kind, and she looked after me so well.’

‘And what is the name of this paragon?’ he asked, knowing his mother would persist until he gave in and deciding to get it over with.

‘Francesca Scott.’

Luke forgot how to breathe. A knot tightened in his chest and it felt as if his heart had stopped beating altogether before it resumed pumping at a rapid rate. Somehow he sucked a ragged breath into parched lungs. Gripping the phone so hard his knuckles were stark white, he sat up straight in the chair, every part of him at full attention.

‘What did you say?’ He demanded clarification, knowing he must have been wrong, must have been hearing things.

‘It’s true, Luke.’ His mother’s voice softened with the confirmation, filling with awareness of the importance of her words. ‘Apparently Francesca has been working at the hospital for nearly three years. I had no idea. After seeing her, I made a few discreet enquiries. I didn’t learn much but there are one or two things you might be interested to hear.’

He was interested, all right, although it took a few moments for the rest of the information to register over the roaring in his ears and the rushing of blood through his veins. One vital fact took precedence. Francesca was back. Scattered images and memories of long ago fired through his brain almost too fast for him to catch hold of them. Francesca as a coltish young girl, courageous and loyal. Friendless, just like him. Alone, just like him. Hurting and trying so desperately not to show it…just like him. So much in common, so much silent, mutual understanding, yet a chasm as wide as an ocean had yawned between their lives and their backgrounds.

His father had not wanted him to continue his education but even then Luke had stood up to him, knowing what he wanted and that his brain was his ticket out, the key to his future. It had paid off. The last violent row had happened the day he had finished his final Advanced Higher exam. He’d been eighteen, forced to leave home, to escape his father—needing, too, to follow his dream to be a doctor and prove himself.

Leaving his mother had been an impossible wrench, with the added worry of what might happen to her when he was not there to protect her, but she had been adamant he go, as selfless as ever. Battered and bruised, he’d slipped away like a thief in the night to lick his wounds. Then he had worked hard to establish a place at medical school in London, doing extra jobs to pay his way and finding somewhere to live so that his mother could come to him—as she had, living in London until his father had died and it had been safe for her to return home.

And then there had been Francesca. He’d felt bad leaving her behind but she had been just sixteen, tied to her home and shackled by her own problems. There had been nothing he could do. Not then. But he had never forgotten. Three years later, unable to get her out of his head, needing to know what had become of her, he had gone back for her, but she and her mother had vanished. After several unsuccessful attempts to find her, he had begun to give up hope of seeing her again.

Until now.

Because Francesca was back. And, as the information his mother imparted sank in, seeds were sown…seeds that immediately took root, germinated and began to grow with a life of their own. He had no idea what Francesca’s life was like now, what she would say when she saw him again—hell, he didn’t even know if she remembered him, if he had been any more than a blip on her consciousness a decade ago. But an inner demon possessed him and he couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t let her go. Not without knowing, once and for all.

It was crazy to act so spontaneously, to jeopardise all he had built here, but he knew what he had to do and nothing or no one was going to stop him. His boss, Professor James Fielding-Smythe, renowned orthopaedic surgeon, brilliant, impatient and demanding, would have a fit when he found out, but Luke didn’t care. Whatever scathing criticism and shameless cajoling came from the crusty old professor, Luke was not going to be diverted.

Not now Fate had tipped his hand.

Not now he knew that Francesca was in Strathlochan.

Not now he had a plan.