her mind, but it was difficult.
She watched her mother drift in and out of sleep. It was worrying, not knowing how the surgery would go … It was a big operation … She’d already lost her father to a heart attack and she didn’t want to lose her mother too.
She shook off those unreasonable fears. After the surgery her mother would need physiotherapy and would have to use crutches or a walker for some weeks or months.
‘Oh, is she asleep?’ A young porter came over to the bedside and spoke softly, giving Caitlin a friendly smile.
‘She’s drowsy, I think.’
‘That’s okay. It’s for the best. It’s time to take her to Theatre.’
Caitlin nodded and lightly stroked her mother’s hair. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up,’ she murmured, and the young man carefully wheeled his patient away.
‘The operation could take up to three hours,’ the nurse told her. ‘You might want to take a walk outside, or go and get something to eat, if you don’t want to go home. I can give you a ring when she’s back in the recovery room, if you like?’
‘Oh, thanks, that’s really kind of you. I do appreciate it,’ Caitlin said. She thought for a moment or two. What should she do? There might be time to go home. But perhaps she ought to follow up on Brodie’s invitation … It was important that she found work quickly, though how she would manage her mother’s day-to-day care when she was back home was another problem.
Decision made, she glanced at the nurse once more. ‘Actually, I think I’ll go over to the children’s unit for a while. Dr Driscoll—the man who came in with her—said he’d show me around.’
‘He’s a doctor?’ The girl’s eyes widened. ‘He must be new around here. I thought I knew most of the staff in the hospital. Wow! Things are looking up!’
Caitlin smiled. That was probably a fairly typical reaction from women where Brodie was concerned. He’d always turned heads. Perhaps she’d better get used to seeing that kind of response all over again. Of course, she knew how these women felt. Try as she might to resist him, she wasn’t immune to his seductive charm.
She made her way to the children’s unit, uneasily conscious of the quivering in her stomach now that she was to see him again. It was hard to say why he had this effect on her, but it had always been the same. There was something about him that jolted all her senses, spinning them into high alert the minute she set eyes on him.
The children’s wards were on the ground floor of the hospital, a bright and appealing place with colourful walls, decorative ceiling tiles and amusing animal designs on the floor. There were exciting murals created to distract the children from the scariness of a hospital environment, and she noticed that the nurses were wearing patterned plastic aprons over their uniforms.
‘Hi there.’ The staff nurse came to greet her as she walked up to reception. ‘I saw you admiring our wall paintings. They’re very recent additions—Dr Driscoll brought in artists to do them the first week he started here.’
‘Really?’ Caitlin was astonished by that piece of news. ‘My word, he doesn’t let the grass grow under his feet, does he?’
‘Too right. I heard he’d been talking with designers while he was working out his notice at his previous hospital. We all love the changes he’s made. It’s only been a few weeks and everything’s so different here.’ She paused by the entrance to the observation ward. ‘You must be Caitlin,’ she said with a smile. ‘Am I right?’
‘Well, yes …’ Puzzled, Caitlin frowned. ‘How did you know?’
The nurse’s bright eyes sparkled. ‘Dr Driscoll asked me to look out for you—he said I wouldn’t be able to miss you. You had glorious hair, he said, beautiful auburn curls, and he told me what you were wearing. He’s with a patient in Forest right now but he said to send you along.’ Still smiling, she led the way. All the wards, Caitlin discovered, were divided into bays with names derived from the environment, like Forest, Lakeside, Beechwood.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Brodie murmured, looking across the room, his mouth curving briefly as Caitlin entered the ward. ‘I’m glad you could make it.’
She smiled in acknowledgment. He looked good, and the muscles in her midriff tightened involuntarily in response. He was half sitting on the bed. One long leg extended to the floor, the material of his trousers stretched tautly over his muscular thigh; the other leg was bent beneath him so as not to crowd out his small patient, a thin boy of around two years old.
‘This lady is a doctor like me, Sammy. She’s come to see how we’re doing.’
Sammy didn’t react. Instead, he lowered his head and remained silent, looking at the fresh plaster cast on his leg. Brodie sent him a quizzical glance. He silently indicated to Caitlin to take a seat by the bedside.
‘His mother’s with the nurse at the moment,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s talking to her about the break in his leg bone and advising her on painkillers and so on.’
Caitlin nodded and went to sit down. She felt sorry for the little boy. With that injury perhaps it was no wonder the poor child didn’t feel like responding.
Brodie turned his attention back to Sammy. ‘Do you want to see my stethoscope?’ he asked, showing it to the infant, letting him hold the instrument. ‘If I put the disc on my chest, like this, I can hear noises through these earpieces … see?’ He demonstrated, undoing a couple of buttons on his shirt and slipping the diaphragm through the opening. The little boy watched, his curiosity piqued in spite of his anxieties.
‘Oh,’ Brodie said, feigning surprise, ‘I can hear a bump, bump, bump. Do you want to listen?’
The boy nodded, leaning forward to allow Brodie carefully to place the earpieces in his ears.
His eyes widened. Brodie moved the diaphragm around and said, ‘Squeaks and gurgles, gurgles and squeaks. Do you want to listen to your chest?’
Sammy nodded slowly and, when Brodie carefully placed the disc on the boy’s chest, the child listened, open-mouthed. He still wasn’t talking but clearly he was intrigued.
‘Do you think I could have a listen?’ Brodie asked and he nodded.
Brodie ran the stethoscope over Sammy’s chest once more. ‘Hmm. Just like me, lots of funny squeaks and crackles,’ he said after a while, folding the stethoscope and putting it in his pocket. ‘Thanks, Sammy.’ He picked up the boy’s chart from the end of the bed and wrote something on it, getting to his feet and handing the folder to the nurse who was assisting.
A moment later, he glanced back at the child. ‘The nurse will help you to put your shirt back on and then you can lie back and try to get some rest. Your mummy will be back soon. Okay?’
Sammy nodded.
Caitlin followed as Brodie walked away from the bed and spoke quietly to the nurse. ‘There’s some infection there, I think, so we’ll start him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic and get an X-ray done. He’s very thin and pale,’ he added. ‘I’m a bit concerned about his general health as well as the injury to his leg—I think we’ll keep him in here under observation for a few days.’
‘Okay.’
