cellphone was switched off.’
‘I had an emergency at Greenpark. As you know.’ Lewis Tanner’s tone suggested that the explanation should not have needed repeating. David’s brow creased thoughtfully. Greenpark was a private hospital. He had declined his own offer of operating privileges there.
‘Our patient was highly stressed by the delay and eventual cancellation of her procedure. She went on to have an acute myocardial infarction and required emergency angioplasty yesterday afternoon. For which, fortunately, surgical back-up is not mandatory.’
Lewis’s shrug was barely noticeable. ‘She got her procedure done, then, didn’t she?’ He shot back a cuff to expose a discreet gleam of gold. ‘I’m running out of time here. Is that it for today? Looks like we’ve got a full case load for the week.’
‘No, that’s not it for today,’ Lisa snapped.
David rather enjoyed the look of irritation on Lewis Tanner’s face but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
‘I would like further discussion regarding the case of Desmond Knight. He was readmitted yesterday with intractable angina. In the last four weeks he has spent eighteen days in the coronary care unit. His need for surgery has become progressively more urgent.’
This time the shrug was pronounced. ‘I reviewed the man last week. He’s not a good risk. He’s hypertensive, hyperlipidaemic and overweight. Above all, he’s still smoking. As I told him, he has to be prepared to take some responsibility for the outcome of his surgery. I’m not prepared to operate until I have concrete evidence that he’s given up smoking and is making an attempt to lose weight.’
‘His level of angina precludes any form of exercise.’ Lisa was clearly angry. ‘He had cut down to one cigarette a day. The stress of receiving your letter suggesting that surgery would not be available was enough to push him back into it. He’s forty-three years old with four children to support. He hasn’t been able to work for six months. I’m quite confident that a chance to live a normal life will be more than enough incentive for him to make the appropriate lifestyle changes post-surgery.’
‘It hasn’t been enough of an incentive so far.’
David’s resolve to stay silent evaporated. ‘Is this a departmental policy?’ he enquired.
‘No, it’s not.’ Alan Bennett broke the tense silence. ‘Lewis’s principles are well known but not necessarily shared to the same degree. Desmond Knight was referred initially to Lewis but I think a change of consultant at this point might be advisable.’
‘I’ve got a theatre slot tomorrow morning,’ David announced. ‘Has that been filled?’
‘No.’ Alan Bennett smiled. ‘We planned to ease you in gradually.’
‘I’m more than happy to start operating immediately,’ David offered. He smiled at Lewis Tanner. ‘As long as you don’t object to me poaching one of your patients?’
‘Not at all, old chap.’ Lewis smiled back. ‘Are you sure you want to? Operating on no-hopers like Mr Knight will play merry hell with your statistics.’
‘I’ll take the risk.’ David felt as if his smile was glued on. The eye contact with his colleague was challenging. He definitely did not like this man. No wonder Lisa Kennedy was prepared to loathe cardiac surgeons on sight—particularly when they made it obvious they found her attractive. The thought made him shift his glance. The expression on both Lisa’s and Mike’s faces was enough reward for any risk he might be taking, politically or otherwise. If there was a line drawn in the sand here it seemed that David had unintentionally chosen which side to stand on. He was surprised at how good it felt.
‘Did you hear the one about the cardiac surgeon who told his patient that he had some good news and some bad news?’
‘Probably.’ David grinned. ‘I reckon I’ve heard them all by now.’ Desmond Knight was a bit of a character and they had established a quick rapport during the introductory interview David had just concluded. ‘Is the good news that you have twenty-four hours to live and the bad news that I should have told you yesterday?’
‘No.’ Desmond Knight chuckled. ‘The bad news is that he’s only got a week to live.’
‘And the good news?’
‘Well, the surgeon points to a nurse who’s really…’
‘Stunningly gorgeous?’
Desmond nodded enthusiastically. ‘And he said, ‘‘You see that great-looking nurse over there?’’ The patient looks and then he nods eagerly and looks back at the surgeon kind of hopefully and the surgeon says, ‘‘Well, the good news it that I’m taking her out on Saturday night.’’’
David laughed with genuine amusement. He even looked in the direction Desmond had been pointing, but there was no nurse, stunningly gorgeous or otherwise. There was, however, an impressive expanse of pink candlewick—a back view of Mrs Judd, her walking frame parked in the doorway as she stopped to catch her breath. David caught Desmond Knight’s eye.
‘Rather you than me,’ Desmond murmured.
The pink tidal wave receded, replaced almost instantly by the slim figure of Lisa. The contrast was astonishing and Desmond’s face brightened considerably.
‘Hi, Doc.’
‘Hi, Des. I see you’ve met our new surgeon.’
‘He tells me I’ll never play the violin again.’
‘You couldn’t play it before.’ Lisa’s smile was only for her patient but David could sense its warmth and felt oddly excluded.
‘I’ve just been explaining the surgery to Desmond here. We’re scheduled for 8 a.m. tomorrow.’
Lisa nodded. ‘I wondered if you had the time now to review everything. I’ve got all the notes and I’ve set up the cardiac catheter film in the viewing room if you want to see it.’
‘Of course. I was about to call you.’ David turned back to Desmond. ‘Try and have a good rest and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I’d better check out the home movie you had done in the cath lab. I wouldn’t want to miss a bit of plumbing that needs attention.’
‘Make sure you do the bolts up nice and tight. That’s what bothers me.’
David could see the fear beneath the levity. He reached out and gripped Desmond’s hand briefly. ‘No worries, mate. I’ll get you running on full bore and leakproof.’
The faint pink flush he could see on the back of Lisa’s neck indicated that she had not appreciated the interchange as much as Desmond Knight, but David hadn’t been able to resist rubbing her nose in it just a little. He would never admit to the extent that her attack had nettled him yesterday, but between that and the paroxysms of mirth from the neighbouring bedroom last night David had been sorely tempted to pack his bags and return to a more congenial hemisphere.
‘What time did Desmond come in yesterday?’
Lisa was flicking a series of switches, dimming the lights in the angiography viewing room. ‘About two o’clock.’
