had to work for … unlike Sara’s medical qualifications.
Zara’s initial expression when her mother drew her attention to him was one of open delight, then her wide hazel eyes drifted to one side as though she was trying to see what had attracted his attention away from her at such an important moment.
He took a step aside so that she could see her sister sitting in the wheelchair beside him. He was totally shocked when, instead of an expression of concern or, at the very least, an equally welcoming smile for her sister, her look was one of … what? It was definitely more than horror at the fact that she’d suffered such injuries, it was almost revulsion, or even … hatred?
Impossible. He must be more exhausted than he’d thought if he could imagine such a thing. Twins were closer than almost any other people, and in their case, with Sara putting herself through pregnancy on her sister’s behalf, they were bound to be closer than most.
Then, without a single question about how Sara came to be so injured, Zara held out a hand towards him in a blatantly theatrical plea.
‘Oh, Danny, I’m so sorry for putting you through this but …’ She bit her lip and peered up at him. ‘I just couldn’t cope with it any more. It was all just too much.’
‘Couldn’t bear what?’ he asked, not buying her pantomime for a minute, although there must be something serious behind her actions. Someone as self-centred as Zara didn’t do anything without planning it down to the last step, like her plan to seduce him.
‘Well, didn’t you read my note?’ she demanded crossly. She was clearly wrong-footed by the fact that he didn’t know what she was talking about, but he had no doubt he would be hearing all about it in exhaustive detail.
‘I didn’t see any note. When did you write it? Where did you put it?’ he demanded. It certainly hadn’t been on the mantelpiece when he’d put the picture of the scan there, although he hadn’t really been looking at anything other than those two indeterminate dark blobs with the bright flashes where their hearts were beating.
‘Oh, Danny,’ she cried, and accepted the pretty handkerchief her mother offered, actually managing to squeeze out a tear or two. ‘I poured my heart out to you … told you how insecure I was feeling … how afraid that … Oh, what’s the use?’ she said petulantly, and turned her back on him.
‘She’s overwrought,’ Audrey said in a stage whisper. ‘She’ll feel better when she’s had a good night’s sleep in her own bed.’ She turned her attention to Mr Shah. ‘When can we take her home? Do we have to fill in any papers?’
‘Oh, my dear Mrs … Mrs Walker,’ he said after a quick glance at Zara’s notes to refresh his memory. ‘Your daughter is perfectly within her rights to sign her self out of hospital, but I certainly wouldn’t advise it.’
‘Why on earth not?’ challenged Frank. ‘We’ve all been waiting for her to wake up and now she has. Surely that’s an end to the whole miserable episode.’
‘I wish it were, sir, believe me,’ the consultant said with a shake of his head. ‘Unfortunately, the fact that your daughter has woken doesn’t mean that all the drugs have left her body, and until the drip has neutralised the paracetamol, the drug could still be doing damage to her liver.’
‘But …’ Audrey looked almost comically disappointed.
‘It really would be better if she stayed until we can give her a clean bill of health. She probably still feels rather shaky and tired and would rather not make a journey before she’s absolutely ready.’
Dan smothered a grin when he recognised the way the ICU consultant had got the measure of the Walker family. To suggest, obliquely, that Zara needed specialist attention for a little longer was the one strategy that her parents wouldn’t want to argue with.
After that, it wasn’t very long before the senior sister had used a similar technique for persuading Audrey and Frank that it would be in everybody’s best interests if they went home and had a good night’s sleep.
Sleep! It had been so long since he’d done it that he felt quite punch-drunk, but something still wouldn’t let him leave until he’d gone to check that Sara was finally getting some rest. After Zara’s little pout he’d turned to say something to her, but neither the wheelchair nor its occupant had been anywhere in sight.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he growled when he found her clothed in a set of baggy blue scrubs and trying to work out how she could use a pair of crutches with one shoulder taped up after a dislocation. ‘Are you completely crazy? You should be in bed, allowing your injuries to start healing.’
‘And that’s exactly where I’ll be as soon as I get home,’ she countered with a stubborn lift of her chin.
‘And exactly how were you intending getting there?’ he asked, wondering what it would do to his credibility as a doctor if he stood in the middle of the corridor and screamed out his frustration. Why wouldn’t the wretched woman see that he was trying to take care of her?
‘Well, as walking is plainly out of the question until I’m a little more proficient, I would have thought that the obvious alternative is a taxi,’ she snapped in frustration, standing on one leg and clearly in danger of losing her balance and falling over as she tried to put her coat on.
‘And when you get home?’ he persisted. ‘How were you going to get up all those stairs to your little eyrie?’
He almost felt sorry when he saw her shoulders slump in defeat.
‘I can’t stay in here, Dan,’ she said turning those golden hazel eyes on him in mute appeal. ‘Won’t you help me?’
‘If you’re really adamant about leaving, you’ve got two choices. Either I can drop you off at you parents’ house—’
‘No way!’ she exclaimed with a shudder. ‘I haven’t spent a night there since I left for medical school and I don’t intend changing that. What’s the other alternative?’
‘That I take you home to my flat.’ ‘Your flat?’
Her expression was so shocked that he hurried to continue. ‘I—we—do have a spare room, Sara, and I’m sure that your sister would be delighted to know you’re somewhere safe.’
Under her breath she muttered something that sounded very much like, ‘I doubt it.’ He almost asked her to explain but as she was conceding defeat over donning her coat it looked as if he’d at least won that round, even if was only to get her to stay here for the few hours left till morning.
‘I’ll give you a lift after morning rounds if the orthopod gives you the all-clear, and see what we can do to make you comfortable and safe … all three of you,’ he added quickly when she bristled again at the suggestion that she couldn’t take care of herself. He wasn’t above using her pregnancy as a weapon if it got her to take care of herself. ‘The last thing you need is to have a fall down the stairs. You might not be so lucky a second time.’
SARA felt as if she’d been tricked into staying in hospital for the last few hours.
