Читать книгу Cinderella And The Surgeon / Miracle Baby For The Midwife - Scarlet Wilson, Tina Beckett - Страница 15

HER PHONE BUZZED and she checked it as she walked into A&E. ‘Hi, Mum, everything okay?’

She listened for a few minutes as her mum filled her in on the last few days. Her heart always twisted in her chest when her mum’s name came up on her phone. It always made her wonder if it was going to be something she didn’t want to hear.

Her mum had fought cancer a few years ago, the worst part being she’d initially kept it a secret from Esther because she didn’t want to distract her from her studies. Esther had been absolutely devastated when she’d found out—particularly when she’d realised her mum had gone through the diagnosis and some of her treatment on her own. Guilt had overwhelmed her, that her mother had put her first in her own biggest time of need. They’d always been so close and the treatment had left her mother unable to work any more. Hence, why Esther worked every shift she could. She had to pay rent in London, which was always extortionate, plus the mortgage payment on her mum’s home in Edinburgh. But there was only two years left on the mortgage. She could do it. She just had to keep up with the extra shifts.

‘I’m glad you’re doing okay,’ said Esther, her shoulders going down a little in relief.

‘Please don’t work too hard, honey,’ came the reply. ‘I’m so sorry about all this.’ This conversation happened in every call. Her mum felt massively guilty that her daughter was helping support her now.

But what else could she do? Her dad had died a few years earlier. He’d been wonderful, if a little harum-scarum. He’d drifted from job to job. Her mother had always really been the breadwinner in the household. Her father’s jobs had always revolved around his passions. He’d been an extra for film companies, a body-double, had a go at training as a stunt man, then he’d taken jobs everywhere as a tour guide. He’d always seemed to like jumping from place to place, before coming home to his girls with a whole host of wonderful stories to tell.

Although they’d both loved and adored him, his attitude to work had put a strain on things for her mum, who’d counted every penny. It had ingrained in Esther the fact that security and a steady job were one of the most important things in life.

‘It’s fine, Mum, please don’t worry. You paid the first twenty-three years, let me pay off the rest.’ She spoke for another few minutes, then ended the call.

The board in A&E was full. It was going to be a busy night.

She walked down to where the shift handover normally happened. The first person she saw was Rob, the ANP. He groaned and grabbed her elbow. ‘I called yesterday—didn’t you get the message to call me back?’

She shook her head. He walked into one of the consulting rooms and took out a key to open a locked drawer. ‘The lab work showed that the antibiotic you’re on won’t work this time. You need something different.’

He handed over a prescription bottle with her name on it.

She nodded. ‘I wondered why I wasn’t feeling better so quickly. Okay, I’ll swap them over.’ She opened the bottle and swallowed the first tablet with some water. ‘All good.’ She smiled at him.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, now let’s get to the handover.’

Thursdays were a strange day in A&E. Everyone always expected weekends to be busy, but Thursdays liked to keep staff hanging, wondering if it was going to be a lull before the storm, or a full-on tornado.

Today, the waiting room was packed.

‘Where do you want me?’ asked Esther.

‘Can you cover cubicles?’ asked the charge nurse as he tried to assign everyone to their spot.

‘No trouble.’ She picked up the charts for the cubicles nearby and scanned them. Stitches. A fractured wrist. A patient waiting for a bed in Respiratory. Another patient needing a catheter inserted due to urinary strictures, and a confused elderly patient that had been found wandering near one of the parks and was bordering on hypothermic. More than enough to keep her busy.

Six hours later she still hadn’t had a break. Esther knew she really needed to grab some more paracetamol and another dose of her new antibiotics but she literally hadn’t had a minute.

‘Where’s the nurse who works in NICU?’ she heard a harassed voice say. ‘And someone call the paed doctor?’

Esther stuck her head from behind the cubicle curtains where she’d just finished stitching up a laceration. ‘I’m here. Need a hand?’

The doctor she didn’t know that well nodded. ‘Please, I’ve got a newborn who doesn’t look great.’

Esther nodded. ‘Absolutely.’ She snapped off the gloves she was wearing and grabbed a new pair, striding quickly alongside the doctor. She could sense his panic. And she understood it. He was new to the department and relatively junior. Dealing with babies could be scary. Paediatrics wasn’t everyone’s bag.

She stepped into the cubicle and saw the baby still clutched in its mother’s arms. She sat down in the chair next to her. ‘Hi there. I’m Esther, a midwife and a nurse. Can you tell me what happened today?’

The mother was trembling. She knew it was important to get a good history from the mother, and to try and keep things calm.

She caught a waft of something and sensed someone had come in at her back. But she kept her concentration on the baby. She really needed to get a look at either he or she.

‘I h-had a home delivery last week. Everything was fine. But…he’s just gone downhill fast. He’s not feeding well, he keeps being sick. His colour is bad, and he gasps when he’s breathing.’

Esther nodded and held out her arms towards the mother. ‘Okay, sounds like I need to take a little look at him. What’s his name?’

‘Jude.’

She smiled and kept her hands outstretched. ‘Do you mind if I take a look at Jude?’

The woman hesitated and then finally handed over the little baby. Esther moved slowly and laid the little boy down on the A&E trolley.

She knew instantly that the person on her shoulder was Harry, and after one look at this baby, for once, she wasn’t too sorry he was there.

He’d walked into the cubicle just a few steps behind Esther. Paeds had received three panicked calls from A&E. He couldn’t quite understand why Esther was working down here, but he gave her space to talk to what was clearly a very anxious mother. She handled the situation well and he waited until she’d moved the baby to the trolley before moving to the other side. He gave a nod to the mother and opened his mouth to speak but Esther got there first.

‘Was Jude full term when he was born?’

The mum shook her head. ‘Thirty-eight weeks but the midwife said there was nothing to worry about.’

Harry took his stethoscope from his neck and smiled at the mum. ‘I’m Harry, I’m one of the paediatric doctors. I’m just going to check Jude over if that’s okay with you.’

The woman gave an anxious nod and Harry waited patiently as Esther unwound a finger probe from the paed monitor and attached it to Jude’s tiny finger.

Harry had learned not to introduce himself as a paediatric surgeon; it had a tendency to freak people out. Truth was, the paed doctor who was on call was dealing with a meningitis case in one of the wards upstairs. When Harry had heard there was a baby with potential breathing difficulties, he’d offered to cover the call.

And he was glad he had.

This little guy was using all his accessory muscles to breathe. It only took a few seconds to show that he was bradycardic, and his oxygen saturation was lower than he would have hoped for.

Esther didn’t say a word, just reached for the oxygen and handed him the chart. She was efficient, he’d give her that.

She slid the nasal prongs into place and picked up an ear thermometer. Harry listened carefully to Jude’s chest, hearing exactly what he expected to.

There was a definite heart defect. One he’d need to diagnose after a few more investigations. In the meantime he pulled over the sonogram without waiting for a sonographer and had a quick look for himself.

Esther was talking in a low voice to little Jude. He was responding, blinking and kicking his arms and legs. His skin was a little dusky, but not enough to cause huge concerns for Harry. He suspected this was something he could solve with surgery in the next few days. It wasn’t uncommon for heart defects not to be obvious in babies straight away. The most severe were normally picked up at prenatal scans. But the less severe could be missed.

He moved around and sat in the chair next to the mum, then paused, realising he didn’t know her name.

It was like Esther read his mind. She glanced at the chart he’d left sitting on the other side of the trolley and gave a casual smile. ‘Claire, Harry our doctor is going to explain what he thinks is going on with Jude right now.’

Harry gave her a grateful nod. ‘Is there anyone else here with you?’

Claire shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. ‘I just panicked and brought him in. I tried to phone my husband and my mum-in-law but neither of them answered. I left messages.’

Esther nodded. ‘How about I have a quick check in the waiting room to see if either of them have arrived?’

Two minutes later she returned with a breathless man and an older-looking woman with her bag clutched to her chest. Both of them immediately crowded over Jude. Harry waited for them to ease their panic. The guy came and put his arm around his wife. ‘What’s going on?’

‘He went a funny colour when he was feeding and it just didn’t get better.’

The older woman was stroking Jude’s head and whispering to him. It was clear Claire had supports in place that Jill in the NICU could badly do with. Harry introduced himself and shook hands, then took some time explaining what was wrong with Jude’s heart, drew a diagram for them explaining how surgery would fix things.

It was clear they were horrified, but Esther was smooth, finding tissues for tears, then a chair for gran, whose legs seemed to fold once she found out her precious first grandson needed surgery.

‘But who can do it?’

‘I’ll do it.’

‘You do surgery on babies’ hearts? Doesn’t that need to be a specialist?’

‘I am a specialist. I’m a visiting surgeon at the Queen Victoria. Cardiac surgery in babies is my speciality.’

Esther’s eyes locked with his, and she gave the slightest nod of her head, as if she approved of how he was talking to the mum.

‘How many times have you done this operation?’

Harry counted in his head. ‘This will be number twenty-seven.’

There was an audible sigh of relief. He understood that. Esther made a few notes and stepped outside the cubicle while he kept talking to the family.

When she came back in he had just finished explaining that they’d transfer Jude upstairs and make arrangements for admission.

‘Done,’ said Esther, handing him the paperwork. ‘Porter is just coming. Francesca will review Jude on the ward.’

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t waste time.’

She gave him a tight smile. ‘Some people call me efficient.’

He shifted on his feet. Was she mad at him again? He thought they’d sorted things. The porter arrived quickly and Harry decided to head up to the ward with the family.

He booked the theatre time for the next day and spoke to Francesca before heading back down to A&E. It only took him a few minutes to find Esther again. She was clearing up a tray of bloody swabs.

‘Whoa.’

She looked up. ‘‘Gunshot wound. Thankfully it was just a graze.’

‘Do midwives normally treat gunshot wounds?’

She blinked. ‘I’m a nurse too. That’s why I get to work in A&E.’ She paused for a second and then added, ‘How’s your baby in France?’

He pulled a face. ‘Post-op complications. He developed a pulmonary embolism. Probably not much bigger than the head of pin. But in a twenty-five-weeker…’

He looked up and realised she was holding her breath. ‘Oh, everything’s good now. We’re back to a “wait and see.”’

‘How come you were down covering?’

‘I’d just got back from France and came in to check on Billy. I’d gone along to the ward and saw the messages about the A&E referral. The doc in Paeds was dealing with a meningitis case so I offered to cover.’

‘That was nice of you.’ Her eyebrows were raised.

‘What? You don’t think I can be nice?’

She tilted her head to the side. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what I think of you, Harry Beaumont, or should I call you the Duke of Montrose?’

He winced. His title followed him everywhere. Not that he ever really used it. Only at family occasions when he had to.

Her hand went to her mouth to cover a yawn, and he was instantly suspicious.

‘Excuse me,’ she said as she dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out some antibiotics, tipping one out and swallowing it.

‘You’re still not feeling better?’ They were under the bright lights of the treatment room and it struck him that she pretty much looked like when he’d seen her on that first day.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘They’ve changed my antibiotics. I was resistant to the first lot and I didn’t get the message until today.’

‘So, you still have a temp and feel knackered?’

She spun towards him in surprise. ‘Since when did you get all Scottish?’ She let out a little laugh. ‘Have you any idea how that word sounds in an accent like yours?’

He grinned at her. ‘Does it sound any better when I say Crabbie Rabbie?’

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Right, that’s it. It’s official. You’re banned from saying that. In fact—’ she headed to the door of the treatment room ‘—you’re banned from any Scottish words.’ She shot him a teasing glance. ‘I’m not buying the Duke of Montrose title. You’re about as Scottish as the London subway.’

He opened his mouth in pretend horror. ‘Esther McDonald, are you mocking me?’

She gave a shake of her head. ‘Oh, Harry, I haven’t even started yet.’

She started to walk away, ‘Sorry, got to run. Busy.’

Things just got crazier. And Esther got more and more tired by the second. Could there be a chance the second set of antibiotics weren’t right for her either? That would definitely be unusual. Plus it would start to freak her out that she might have an infection that was multiresistant. That had never happened to her before, and she knew they could be serious.

The more tired she got, the more patients crowded through the door. She spent time with a young woman who came in with symptoms of pregnancy that she clearly was ignoring. She kept refusing to accept she was pregnant and her behaviour got more and more erratic. Eventually Esther realised she needed someone other than the A&E docs to assess this young lady. She called one of the psychiatric liaison nurses who was able to discover that their patient had a pre-existing mental-health condition and had in fact realised she was pregnant, and had stopped her regular medication in case it caused harm to her baby. Now, her condition was spiralling and she needed some help.

Next up was an elderly lady who’d fallen and broken her hip, lying on the ground for a few hours before she was found. Hypothermia was setting in, and Esther had to try and get her warmed up in the first instance before she could even be assessed for potential surgery.

As the evening progressed Esther started to develop an unconscious itch. She couldn’t understand it. It started on her back, then moved to her abdomen. She was monitoring her lady’s temperature for the fifth time when Harry caught her standing on one of the corners of the department using the wall edge to scratch her back.

He stopped walking and looked at her. ‘Esther, have you looked in the mirror lately?’

‘Do I look as if I’ve had time to look in a mirror lately?’ It was snappier than she meant it to be.

He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and walked her across the corridor to the accessible toilet that had a large mirror on the wall. He flicked on the light and she gasped.

Red blotches stared at her, climbing all the way up her neck. ‘Oh my…’ Propriety was out the window. She pulled up her scrub top and looked at her abdomen. Yip. Covered, along with a whole host of scratch marks. She lifted her scrub top at the back. ‘Can you check my back?’

She wasn’t the least embarrassed to ask. He was a doctor, and he was right there.

He bent down and took a look, just in time for one of the other A&E members of staff to walk by and raise their eyebrows. Thankfully Harry didn’t notice as he stood up and shook his head. ‘You’re covered.’ His finger touched the top of her arm where her scrub top ended. ‘Look, they’re starting to appear on your arms too.’

She looked down; sure enough, a red, angry-looking blotch was only half hidden by the sleeve of her scrub top.

‘No wonder I’ve been so itchy.’ She sighed. She’d been so busy she hadn’t had time to stop and think about it.

‘New body lotion? New washing powder?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘No, nothing.’ Then something lined up in her brain. ‘Oh, darn it.’ She reached into her scrub top and pulled out her pill bottle. ‘These antibiotics. I’ve never had these before. It must be them.’

Before she had a chance to say anything else Harry reached over and wrapped his hand around her wrist. She didn’t get a chance to object as he led her down the corridor to the treatment room. He stuck his head back out. ‘Rob!’ His shout was loud and commanding, and a few seconds later Rob the ANP appeared.

‘Do you have the key for the medicine trolley?’ Harry asked as Esther let out a few coughs.

Rob frowned, glancing from Harry to Esther, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. He pulled the keys from his pocket. ‘Yes.’

Harry held out his hand. ‘I think she’s having an allergic reaction to those new antibiotics. I’m going to give her some antihistamines.’

Rob moved over, touching her face and turning it from side to side to check either side of her neck. ‘Any wheezing? Difficulty breathing?’

She shook her head but let out another cough.

‘How bad is the rash?’ he asked. She sighed and partly lifted her scrub top again, letting Rob bend down to have a quick check.

‘Darn it,’ he said. ‘I’m going to record this in your notes and get you something else.’

Harry named another antibiotic. ‘Try that one,’ he said to Rob as he opened a bottle of tablets and tipped two into Esther’s hand.

Esther turned on the tap and swallowed the antihistamines with a little water in a medicine cup. This rash was getting itchier by the second.

Okay, she’d been itchy earlier. But she knew this was psychological. Now she’d seen it and realised it was there, she just wanted to claw at herself. Lovely.

Harry had a worried look on his face, and she wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful, or a bit annoyed. She put her hand on the worktop in the treatment room for a second as a wave of tiredness hit her.

She calculated in her head how many days she’d been fighting this infection now. The tiredness had still been there but she’d tried her best to ignore it, believing as soon as the antibiotics kicked in, it would just lift. That’s what had always happened in the past.

‘I have to go back and check obs on my woman,’ she said to Harry. ‘Thanks for the help. I guess I’ll see you later.’

‘You can’t go out there looking like that. And wait until Rob comes back with some new antibiotics. I think you should sit down for a while.’

Her face went automatically into a frown and he held up both hands. ‘Not trying to tell you what to do.’ His mouth started to form other words and she thought for a second he was going to use her nickname, but he smiled, must have thought better of it and stopped. ‘But have you had a break today?’

She shook her head. ‘Then what about a coffee? Even in the staff room for five minutes? Let Rob write up his paperwork and come back with something.’

The thought of sitting down for five minutes was tempting. ‘But what about my patient?’

‘Cubicle five?’

She nodded.

‘Let me tell the charge nurse you need a five-minute break and ask if someone else can check on your lady.’ Harry pulled a face. ‘I hate to break it to you, Esther, but you are actually having an allergic reaction to antibiotics. It’s quite severe. Let’s just be sure it doesn’t progress. Let’s be safe.’

It was the way he said those words. She was so much of the ‘drag yourself into work no matter what’ mentality—one that a lot of nurses had—that she never really stopped and took time for herself. The truth was, with the extra hours she’d been doing, she hadn’t had any time. Would five minutes really matter? She should have been sent for a break a few hours ago.

‘Okay,’ she said reluctantly.

Harry nodded and walked down the corridor in long strides. Esther made her way to the staff room and flicked the switch on the kettle.

There was a huge box of cupcakes and doughnuts in the middle of the table from a bakery that was quite exclusive. Anything left in the staff room was pretty much a free-for-all and she was surprised there were any left.

As she took down a couple of cups Harry came back through the door. ‘All sorted. I told Rob where we are and he’s just finished the paperwork.’

Where we are. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that phrase.

She turned back. ‘Does that mean you’re planning on hanging around?’

He nodded. ‘I’m monitoring your reaction.’

As soon as he said those words she scratched again.

‘Whilst eating cakes,’ he added.

She spooned coffee into two cups and filled them with boiling water. It would be rude not to, but she didn’t plan on being too hospitable. ‘Milk’s in the fridge if you want it,’ she said as she handed over the cup.

He stood quickly to get some. ‘Don’t you want some?’ he asked as he added milk to his cup.

She smiled. ‘No, not here. I never trust milk dates when I’m in the hospital. I always drink my coffee black in here.’

He stared suspiciously into his cup as he sat back down. ‘Yeah, thanks for that.’ He pushed the box towards her. ‘Eat something.’

‘I wonder where these came from?’ she asked as a strawberry cupcake seemed to shout her name.

‘Me,’ he said.

‘You brought cakes to A&E? You didn’t even know you’d be down here.’

He gave her a calculating smile. ‘I brought multiple boxes. I left one in NICU, one in Paeds and one down here.’

‘Trying to win people around because occasionally you can be a bit brusque?’

He lifted a chocolate doughnut and met her gaze. There was something quite electric about those eyes. She was glad she was sitting, because the look would likely have stopped her in her tracks. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you speak your mind?’

She laughed. ‘No. Why would anyone ever tell me that?’ She nibbled at the cupcake. ‘But let me warn you, you think I’m bad? Try meeting Oona our charge nurse. If you think I was smart about the entourage, she would have chewed you up and spat you out.’

‘Nice.’ He nodded. ‘Okay, then, if this is a teaching hospital, exactly how many am I allowed to bring in to NICU?’

‘Students?’

He nodded.

‘Two. And they better follow the infection control procedures. To the letter.’

He leaned over and gently slapped her hand. ‘Stop scratching.’

He was right. She was clawing away at her neck again and hadn’t even noticed. ‘When are these antihistamines going to start to kick in?’ She let out a long, exhausted breath.

Harry glanced at his watch. ‘Probably not for another hour at least.’

Now she’d sat down, tiredness was really starting to overwhelm her, and it didn’t matter how nice Harry had been to her today, because of their altercation a few days before, the last thing she wanted to do was show him just how tired she was at work. Not when she had patients to see, and other staff relying on her.

But Harry was being nice to her. She couldn’t pretend anything else. Today, he’d given her space to deal with the mother and baby. Not all doctors were like that. Some would just have barged in and taken over.

The truth was, she was slightly curious about him. He must have worked hard to gain his position as a neonatal cardiac surgeon. As for the duke stuff? He certainly hadn’t told anyone his title, but information like that was quick to follow a person.

She was suddenly conscious they were the only people in the room, and even though she was at the other side of the coffee table, his fresh scent was drifting over towards her. When she was feeling as tired and woozy as this, it was kind of hypnotic. She felt as if she had to get out of here.

She pushed herself up. ‘I better get back. I have another hour before I’m off shift. You’ve seen it out there, it’s chaos. I can’t stay here eating cakes.’

She’d made it to the door by then, but Harry was right alongside her, his fingers brushing her arm. ‘Even if you’re sick?’

She licked her lips. She couldn’t pretend she felt one hundred per cent. She was feeling hot again, and she wanted to find Rob and get started on the third set of antibiotics. No wonder her body felt so tired from constantly fighting an infection.

She gave him a tight smile. ‘You know how the health service is.’ She ducked out the door before Harry had a chance to say anything else, his fingers burning an imprint on her skin.

She didn’t finish her shift an hour later. Harry knew, because after reviewing Billy in NICU, and making arrangements for the new baby’s surgery, his feet just seemed to automatically take him back downstairs to A&E to check on her.

It was crazy. He didn’t even understand it himself. But there was something about this occasionally angry Scottish midwife that was just pulling him in.

He was quite sure she didn’t want him there. But even though they’d had a bad start, he’d watched her interactions with others, with patients, and the respect she had from other staff, and all of it intrigued him.

So he stood in the corridor as he watched her dash back and forward between cubicles. Rob came and stood alongside him, folding his arms and leaning against the wall like Harry, mirroring his stance.

‘Are you doing what I think you’re doing?’

‘Her rash seems to have died down a bit, but shouldn’t she have gone home by now?’ He turned towards Rob. ‘Shouldn’t you have gone home too?’

Rob shrugged. ‘You know how it is.’ His eyes went to Esther, who hadn’t noticed either of them as she stopped for a second in the corridor and put her hand on the wall. She looked absolutely exhausted.

They shot each other a glance and walked over to her. ‘Okay,’ Rob said quickly. ‘Esther, I’m officially sending you home. I should have done it earlier, but to be truthful I thought you would have responded much quicker to the antihistamines. I’m sorry.’

‘But my patients…’

Rob interrupted her. ‘They’ll be reassigned.’

She sagged a little as relief clearly flooded over her. ‘Great.’

He tilted his head and looked at her again. ‘Is there someone at home with you?’

She scowled. ‘No. Why?’

Rob bit his bottom lip. ‘I actually wonder if I should make you stay overnight in the combined assessment unit—you know, for observation?’

He was glancing at Harry again.

She shook her head fiercely. ‘No way. Not a chance.’

‘Esther, I’m not sure I should let you go home. What if something happens in the middle of the night? What if you feel unwell? How will you get back in?’

Esther gave Harry a look of panic. The dark circles under her eyes pulled at something inside him.

No member of NHS staff wanted to see a colleague look like this.

Harry stood for a few moments next to her, not wanting to leave. It was a strange sensation for him. A few days ago he’d been ready to do battle with this midwife, questioning her competence. But here she was, working in A&E as well as NICU. There had to be a story there, and he was curious what it was. Now he’d seen her working, he knew she was dedicated. He just didn’t know why she was taking on so many shifts to the detriment of her own health. He might not be an expert, he might not even know her that well, but from what little he’d seen, Esther was on the verge of burnout.

She gave a soft smile, and shook her head again. He could tell she was going to try and persuade Rob to let her go. She gave an unconscious scratch of her neck and gave Harry a sad kind of smile. ‘Thanks for looking out for me earlier.’

‘Of course.’ He meant it. He’d look out for any member of staff that was clearly unwell at work.

He held up his hand. ‘Stay here. Both of you. Don’t move.’

There was a phone on the nearby wall and he picked it up, calling up to first NICU, then the paed ward. Everything appeared to be under control. The other doc on call was more than competent. ‘Head home, Harry. Anything happens with your own patients I’ve got your mobile and I’ll give you a call. But you can trust me, you know?’ he added in a jokey tone.

‘Okay.’ Harry hung up the phone. He had to get better at that. Trusting others with his patients. Maybe it was because he’d spent so long being the visiting expert surgeon. It meant he couldn’t form relationships long enough with people to feel assured about their competencies.

Or maybe it was because of the way he’d been brought up. No child asked to be born to parents who weren’t the least bit interested in them. A child had been a necessity for the duke and duchess. Someone to carry on the family name. But that’s all he’d been. It had taken him a long time to realise that the relationship he had with his parents wasn’t entirely normal. Most kids who boarded did actually get to spend some time at home. But not Harry. It made forming relationships hard for him. He’d spent most of his childhood thinking he didn’t deserve love, and most of his wild teenage years looking for love wherever he could find it. Medicine had been his blessing. His focus. Surgery his ultimate goal. He’d managed to keep everything right on track until the death of his father had derailed one of his first surgeries.

He’d had to leave. It was unheard of for a son not to attend his father’s funeral. The gossip columns would have loved it. His mother had died years previously, so he was the only family left to make the arrangements. So, only two days after his first neonatal cardiac surgery, he’d had to travel home for the funeral.

He’d had to leave the tiny baby he’d wanted to watch like a hawk. And it had happened. The death. While he wasn’t there. His first experience of a child death review with his name as the surgeon. It was devastating for him, and had almost derailed his career. He would never know if something else could have been done to save that baby. None of them would. But it had left an indelible mark on Harry. One he couldn’t ever shake off, or forget.

These babies were his responsibility and he could never forget that. Working with a hundred different teams across a variety of continents was difficult for him. Being a visiting surgeon was hard.

Some weeks he didn’t even get to sleep in his own bed. Constantly moving from place to place—sometimes from country to country to perform his specialist kind of surgery. At first he’d liked it. Enjoyed it even.

But constantly working with different staff was wearing. He’d never considered it before, but the thought of having his own team—a team that he would train by himself and he could trust—had started to play on his mind.

He could also get to know all the staff who worked in NICU and Paeds and perhaps even have a little confidence in the people around him. He could actually start to get a life again—or even get to spend some time in his own bed, in his own home. Now that would really be a miracle.

He walked back over, the decision already made in his head. ‘Okay, Esther. You’re coming home with me.’

‘What?’ She looked entirely stunned.

He shrugged. ‘This is easy. You have two choices. You let Rob admit you, or you let me take you home and keep an eye on you overnight.’

She opened her mouth to speak but he kept talking.

‘I know what’s happened. I know the history. I’m not going to tell anyone else, and you don’t need to tell anyone you stayed with me. If you’re unwell during the night I can bring you back in.’

The stunned look hadn’t changed. Harry’s conscience was tugging at heartstrings he didn’t even know he had. But every cell in his body told him this was the right thing to do.

Rob shot him a glance and a nod. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Sounds good to me, but it’s entirely your choice, Esther. I think you need supervision for at least the next eight hours. Where you spend them is up to you.’

She shot them both a look of complete exasperation. ‘Fine, fine.’ She threw up her hands. ‘Just let me go and get changed.’

She turned and walked off to the female changing room. Harry went into the other changing room and stowed his white coat and pulled out his jacket. He was still waiting to be allocated an office. Hospital space was always tight, so until then, he was happy to have somewhere safe to leave his things.

As he pulled his car keys from his trouser pocket he saw Esther standing at the exit to A&E. Her head was turning from side to side as if she were contemplating the option to run. The weather had turned and rain was bucketing down.

He moved outside, his shoulder brushing against hers. The sun was setting in the sky, sending purple streaks above them.

Harry didn’t hesitate. ‘Your place or mine?’

He could see something flit across her face. ‘Why are you doing this?’ Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

He’d asked himself the same question. ‘Because I should,’ he said simply. ‘It’s the right thing to do.’

There was a long pause, then Esther’s shoulders sagged a little, just like they had earlier, as if she’d accepted that answer. ‘It will take too long to get to mine. You must be tired. I’m sure you stay closer.’ She was saying the words but he could see something else in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t want him to see where she lived?

‘You’re sure about this?’ she repeated, her hand gripping tightly to the handle of her bag.

‘I’m sure. Come on.’ He started walking across the car park, pressing the buttons on his remote to open the doors. ‘Relax,’ he laughed over his shoulder. ‘You’re acting like I’m kidnapping you. Rob knows I’ve taken you home. If you’re never seen again, he’ll send the police after me.’

‘Oh, reassure me, why don’t you,’ she quipped back.

As they reached the car she stopped walking and looked at him, eyebrow slightly arched, as the rain thudded around them. ‘Really?’

He shrugged. ‘What? Excessive?’

She opened the door to the dark blue Aston Martin and climbed in. As he slid in beside her she shook her head. ‘No, excessive would have been a royal carriage. And at this point in the day, I’d go home in anything.’

She leaned back into the seat. ‘Should I call you James Bond, instead of Duke?’

He smiled at her teasing. ‘Harry will be fine, thanks.’ He started the engine. ‘I think I told you before I’m not far from here. Where do you live?’

‘Dagenham, not the same as you in Belgravia.’ The edges of her lips curled upwards.

He gave a nod and pulled out of the car park. No wonder she was tired. The tube between the Queen Victoria and Dagenham would add almost an hour each way onto her journey every day.

He waited until they were in the traffic before he glanced towards her. ‘So, how come you work so much?’

Her eyes were already halfway closed. She let out a sigh. ‘My mum needs some help back home. She’s had cancer and although she’s in remission the chemo and radiotherapy meant she’s never got back to full fitness and can’t get back to work.’ She turned her head. ‘I need to cover the mortgage. It’s only got a couple of years left. I can do it.’

The words came out in a stream and he knew if she hadn’t been half as exhausted she probably wouldn’t have told him any of this.

His head was immediately filled with a barrage of questions that it wasn’t good manners to ask. At least now he understood. She had a real reason to work every hour there was. She obviously felt responsible for her mum.

Something twisted in his gut. Even those few words let him know that Esther and her mother had a real bond, a real connection. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He’d never known what that felt like. His parents had always been like distant ornaments sitting on a grand mantelpiece.

He’d spent more happy years at boarding school, and at university, than he ever had being back in their grand estate. Taking ownership of the Belgravia town house had felt like a huge sigh of relief that he wouldn’t be expected to be under the same roof as them for any length of time.

Esther’s eyes were fully closed and her breathing steady. She was fast asleep and they’d barely been in the car a few minutes.

Her dark hair was coming loose from its braid and for a few moments his eyes fixated on her long dark lashes. How had he not really noticed them before?

The car behind him beeped and he moved the Aston Martin quickly through the traffic, letting some quiet music play in the background as they drove.

Esther remained fast asleep. He could still see the edge of some of the rash at the bottom of her neck. The steroids should have kicked in a few hours before. Her reaction had obviously been a bit more serious than any one of them had realised.

By the time he’d pulled into the parking for his town house, his initial confidence had waned a little. He switched off the engine and walked around to her side of the car. The lift in the converted basement could take him right up to the top floor of the town house, where the bedrooms were.

He opened the door, and paused again to see if she would wake. Nothing. ‘Esther,’ he said gently. ‘I’m just going to pick you up.’

She murmured something in reply. It didn’t sound like a no, so he slid his arms under her and picked her up, grabbing her bag and closing the car door with his hip.

The lift took them upstairs in seconds and he flicked on a light with his elbow, and walked down the corridor towards one of the empty bedrooms in his house.

They were all beautifully decorated, fresh and light. He laid her down on top of one of the beds, then slid off her shoes. He didn’t want her to panic if she woke up, so when he closed the heavy curtains, he turned the bedside light on, setting it to dim.

The en suite bathroom was stocked with supplies. She could find anything she might need in here. Her jacket pocket jangled as he slid it from her shoulders. Of course. Her new antibiotics. He couldn’t let her go without them.

He sat the antibiotics on the table and saw that Rob had added in a couple of extra antihistamines. Harry grabbed her a glass of water from the bathroom and sat out the pills she needed to take.

He spoke as gently as he could. ‘Esther, you need to take your antibiotics, and another antihistamine. You still have a bit of a reaction going on. Can you take these for me?’ He pressed them into one hand and held the glass in his other.

Something must have clicked in her brain. She didn’t open her eyes, but put the tablets in her mouth. Harry closed her hand around the glass of water and her body acted automatically, lifting the glass to her mouth and swallowing. The second it was done she hunkered back down into the bed, lying on her side.

Harry pulled a pale yellow blanket up from the bottom of the bed. She wasn’t actually under the duvet, as putting her there seemed intrusive, so he refilled her glass of water and tucked the blanket around her.

At the last moment, he scribbled a note on the pad next to her bed before he walked out and closed the door.

He’d check on her again in a few hours.

He smiled, remembering words he’d heard her say to someone else earlier that day. Something about having their head in their hands to play with if they didn’t do what they were told.

It seemed highly likely that tomorrow that person would be him.

But Harry wasn’t scared. In fact, he liked it.