Douglas Werner, a long-term inpatient, was the first person she saw when she entered the Radio Giggle office.
‘Dougy.’ She smiled and crouched down accepting the little boy’s enthusiastic cuddle.
‘He’s been asking for you.’
Maggie looked up to see fifteen-year-old Christine Leek, a cystic fibrosis patient and another regular in the Radio Giggle studio. ‘Well, here I am,’ she said, giving the little boy a quick rib tickle and laughing at his endearing shriek.
‘Guess what?’ Christine spoke over the top of Doug. ‘Ross said I could conduct the interview today all by myself.’ She looked over Maggie’s shoulder. ‘Have you seen him yet?’
Maggie watched while the painfully thin teenager shifted from foot to foot, her lip pulled between her bottom teeth. Christine was a blossoming DJ who wanted a career in community radio and spent every possible minute with the Radio Giggle organisation. ‘I’m afraid Ross is off sick today.’
‘Oh.’
Maggie couldn’t bear to see her so crestfallen. ‘You can still do it, though,’ she reassured her. Christine’s face lit up like a fireworks display and Maggie felt her heart contract.
‘Really?’ she squeaked.
‘Of course.’ Maggie laughed. ‘You know your way around the dials better than I do.’
They went through to the brightly painted studio and for the next half an hour Maggie and Christine worked out their music schedule with the requests they had in from the previous day. Christine was an eager helper, pulling out all the CDs they needed and stacking them in order, which was just as well as Dougy had commandeered Maggie’s lap.
He sat imperiously, his IV pole supporting his lifesaving fluids close by, well used to adults indulging him. He leant his colouring book against the console and Maggie chatted to him, accepting the crayons he gave her and colouring where he pointed. Meanwhile she juggled Christine’s questions and those of the volunteers as they wandered in and out on their way to the various wards in their bright Radio Giggle T-shirts.
Maggie knew the outside play area would be full of kids over the next couple of hours as those who could came down to see how a real radio show was run. They usually put callouts to their bed-bound friends and families and took part in the activities organised by the volunteers.
At four o’clock the programme got under way. Maggie and Dougy stayed in the studio and let Christine run the show. Dougy knew he had to be quiet and while he had his colouring book he was happy to sit without talking on Maggie’s lap and draw. Radio Giggle never pretended to be a professional outfit, given that the shows were largely run by kids, but it never hurt to strive for excellence.
Maggie rubbed her face against his blond curls and inhaled the hospital-soap smell as she dropped a kiss against his scalp. Dougy had been born prem to a drugaddicted mother and had developed necrotising enterocolitis, necessitating the removal of a large portion of his non-viable bowel.
He’d been very ill for the first year of his life and had been transferred from NICU to PICU at three months of age for ongoing management. He now had short-gut syndrome, which meant he didn’t have enough bowel length to absorb his food and had to be fed intravenously through a permanent line.
He’d been in hospital virtually all his life due to his condition and he made regular appearances in PICU with various infections which, due to his compromised immune system, usually knocked him for six. His last stay had been a few months ago during winter for bilateral pneumonia.
He looked like all kids with severe malabsorption disorders. Skinny arms and legs and a protruding stomach. While long-term parenteral nutrition was lifesaving for Dougy it did have its side effects, and Maggie knew liver damage was a major contributing factor to Dougy’s pot belly. She could feel its rounded contours through the thin cotton of his hospital-issue pyjama shirt and dropped another kiss on his head.
‘So this is where the party’s at.’
Maggie would have jumped a mile in the air had Dougy not been weighing her down as Nash Reece’s voice intruded into the studio bubble. What the…? Was the man stalking her?
‘Dr Reece!’
Maggie blinked as Christine jumped up from the console, reefing her headphones off smiling crazily at him. She turned to see him standing in the doorway in dark chinos and another checked shirt. A young child sat on his hip, pulling at a lopsided bandage wrapped around its head. Nash looked natural, at ease with the child and her stomach did that strange flopping thing again.
Nash smiled at the teenager. ‘Hello, Christine.’Then he turned to Maggie, looking smoking hot in her tight black denim Capri pants and her red Radio Giggle top fitting snugly across her breasts. ‘Hello, Maggie from ICU.’
Maggie felt heat creep into her cheeks as his eyes roved all over her body.
‘This little munchkin says his name is Brodie and he wants to say hello to everyone on ward three,’ he announced to Christine, dragging his eyes off Maggie.
‘Bring him over here.’ Christine smiled, holding out her arms and waggling her fingers. ‘I’ll help him. Then we can do your interview.’
Maggie looked at him dumbly as Christine settled the little one on her lap. ‘You’re the interviewee?’
Nash chuckled. ‘You think I’m going to tank?’
Maggie felt more fire in her cheeks. ‘Of course not.’ It was hardly Meet the Press. She’d just wished she’d known. She hadn’t asked Christine about the interview because she’d assumed it was going to be one of the other inpatients as usual. ‘How’d that come about?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve been dropping in from time to time and Christine asked if she could interview me.’
Nash had been dropping in to Radio Giggle? ‘Oh,’ she said.
‘What about you? You help out here much?’
Maggie shrugged. ‘From time to time.’
‘Hey,’ Christine said, butting in. ‘That’s not true. Don’t listen to her, Dr Reece.’ She pointed to a series of framed photos on the wall above the console, several of them starring Maggie. ‘Ross says Maggie was the driving force behind Radio Giggle and that it wouldn’t even exist without her.’
Nash cocked his head back and looked at the enlarged snaps. A younger-looking Maggie with headphones on, sporting a wedding band and grinning at the camera caught his eye. And another with Maggie helping a very official-looking gent in a suit cut a ribbon across the doorway behind him.
He whistled. Yesterday he’d seen her as the efficient PICU nurse and today he’d seen her in another light. While his libido saw her as a gorgeous, sexy woman, the evidence of his eyes told him Maggie was definitely more than a pretty face.
Dougy finally looked up from his picture. ‘Dr Reece,’ he called, and Maggie was spared from the frank curiosity in Nash’s face.
‘Hey, Dougy.’ Nash crossed the small distance and crouched beside Maggie. Doug had been his patient during his medical rotation. ‘How you doin’, mate?’
Dougy
