‘I’ll apologise to Nurse Bowers. But I’d like you to have a word with her, explain that if she doesn’t feel up to the job then she should take time off so the patients aren’t affected.’
‘I’ve already done that.’
‘I see.’ He folded his arms. ‘Then perhaps we can start again. I prefer to work with first names. You’re Jennifer, yes?’
She twisted the ring on her finger. Remember Andrew. Remember Andrew. ‘Yes.’ The word was virtually torn from her. She wanted to stay Sister Jacobs to this man. Aloof, remote, untouchable. Or even JJ, the nickname everyone else in the hospital used. But not Jennifer. It was too personal. Too dangerous.
‘And I’m Ramón.’ He stood up and gave her a formal bow. ‘I trust we shall work well together on my secondment to the Bradley Memorial Hospital.’
‘Brad’s.’
He frowned. ‘Brad’s?’
‘That’s what we call it. The hospital.’ Hell. Now she was babbling, and he’d think she was an idiot.
No. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. His opinion wasn’t important.
‘You cared for Stephen Knights the last time he was here?’
She blinked. The question had come out of left field. Or maybe she’d missed whatever he’d said before that. Ramón Martínez had thrown her completely off balance. Frighteningly so, because she’d sworn she’d never let anyone do that to her again. ‘Yes. I met his parents soon after Stephen was born. They came to see Dr Keller about the cheiloplasty—’ the operation to repair a cleft lip ‘—and he explained that Stephen also needed the operation to close the cleft palate, to help his speech and to separate the mouth and nasal cavities.’
‘And you tease all the parents the same way?’
Now she realised where he was coming from. He hadn’t liked the way she’d talked to the Knightses. ‘Each patient is different—and so are their parents. I teach my nurses to build relationships with the parents, to help them deal with what’s happening to their children. Some like to know every single thing that’s happening and to take on as much of the care for the child as they can, some like to joke to take their mind off their worries and some like to know the bare minimum and leave everything to the nurses. Mandy’s a joker and Paul likes to know exactly what to expect.’
He nodded gravely. ‘Now we understand each other.’
No. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t want to understand him. He was just a doctor, someone she had to work with for a little while. And that was the way he was going to stay.
‘I’ll apologise to Lizzy, Jennifer.’
‘Thank you.’ When he continued waiting, in silence, she knew what he was expecting. She forced the word out. ‘Ramón.’ It felt almost unbearably intimate, using his first name.
He gave her another of those formal bows and left her office. Still twisting her wedding ring, Jennifer watched him leave. She had to get her overreaction to this man back under control. And fast. Before it landed her in a heap of trouble she really, really didn’t need.
Ramón stared into his coffee. Nothing added up about Jennifer Jacobs. He’d watched her covertly on the ward and she’d been the perfect nurse. Efficient, caring, kind. Spending time where it was needed. He’d seen her sitting on the side of a child’s bed, soothing away tears, reading stories and chatting while she checked blood pressure and dressings and administered drugs. She never once raised her voice but he’d noticed that everybody always did whatever she asked them, without excuses or delays. She was clearly respected.
But who was she really? She had no family pictures in her office—no husband, no children, no parents, no siblings—and yet she wore a wedding ring. He couldn’t work her out. She wasn’t even his type—he liked fiery, beautiful Latin women, not quiet, unassuming English mice. And he definitely didn’t believe in getting involved with married women. So why couldn’t he get her out of her head?
Particularly when he remembered her sitting on the bed of one small child, holding his hand and stroking his hair and chatting to him until the fear had vanished from the little boy’s face. He’d seen the little boy hug her in relief, seen the warmth in her smile—a warmth he wanted directed his way, too. Yet the minute she became aware of his own presence, a wall seemed to go straight up. Why?
‘Hola, Ramón. Settling in OK?’
He looked up as Neil Burroughs, the paediatric special reg, sat down at his table in a quiet corner of the canteen. ‘Yes, thanks. But your coffee…’ He wrinkled his nose.
‘Try the hot chocolate. Though it’s a bit sweet.’
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,’ Ramón said dryly.
‘So you’ve met everyone on the ward now?’
Ramón nodded. ‘Meg showed me round this morning before I went to Theatre. And then Jennifer took over.’
‘Jennifer?’ Neil looked blank for a moment. ‘Oh, the redoubtable JJ.’
‘Why do you call her JJ?’
‘Her initials—Jennifer Jacobs.’
Ramón rolled his eyes. ‘We do have initials in Spain, mi amigo. No, I meant why call her that when her name’s Jennifer?’
‘We always have.’ Neil shrugged. Then he frowned. ‘You’re not getting any ideas about her, are you?’
‘No. I saw the ring. She’s married.’
‘Widowed,’ Neil corrected.
‘But…’ Ramón stared at him in shock. ‘She’s so young.’
‘She was really young when she was widowed. It happened just before she went into nursing, about ten years back.’
Widowed. Jennifer was a widow. Which meant she was…No. Not free. Which meant he should respect her status. He decided to change the subject—but his mouth had other ideas. ‘You called her “redoubtable”,’ Ramón said.
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. She’s an excellent nurse, brilliant with the kids and absolutely the best with students—she won’t stand for any nonsense but she’s got endless patience when it comes to explaining things. She’s just a bit…well, remote.’ Neil shrugged. ‘If someone organises a bit of a do, she always makes an excuse not to go.’
‘Maybe she just doesn’t like crowds.’ Maybe she preferred something more intimate. And Ramón thought he’d better change the subject right now before he disgraced himself.
Neil didn’t seem to notice. ‘You’re probably right. She sometimes goes out to the theatre or the cinema with a couple of the other nurses, but she keeps herself to herself.’
Mourning her husband, perhaps? But according to Neil it had been ten years since his death. And Jennifer was still a young woman. It would be a crime to let her stay buried in work, not living life to the full.
Though
