The Doctor's Longed-For Family. Joanna Neil
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‘You sound very knowledgeable,’ Abby remarked as she started to write out the forms for Radiology. ‘Are you a doctor?’
‘Yes, that’s right, I am. I have a strong interest in A and E and the way these departments operate.’
‘Well, we’ll take care of him. You can rest assured that we’ll do everything that’s necessary to make certain he’s looked after properly,’ Abby told him.
She turned back to her small patient, making adjustments to the intravenous infusion she had set up, but after a while she realised that the man was still there, watching her every movement. Why was he so reluctant to leave?
She glanced up at him once more, remembering that he had said he had already been on his way to the hospital when the accident had happened. Her gaze drifted over the clean lines of the suit he was wearing. He certainly wasn’t dressed for a casual visit. That, and the fact that he seemed to be taking an interest in what she was doing, appeared to her to add up to one thing. He was probably one of the candidates for the part-time position they had advertised.
‘There’s no need for you to stay,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure the little boy’s parents will be arriving at any moment. If you’re here for the job interview, you could perhaps go and make yourself comfortable in the waiting room. I won’t be ready to start on them for a while yet, but I’ll ask one of the nurses to show you where you might go and get yourself a cup of coffee in the meantime, if you like. I’ll come and find you when I’ve finished here and let you know how he’s doing.’
‘Interview?’ He gave a slight frown, as though he had forgotten all about it, which wasn’t so unlikely, given his morning. Then his expression cleared, and he flicked a glance towards the name badge she was wearing.
He smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr Byford. I think I’ll do that. You’ve been very kind.’
‘You’re welcome.’ She called for a nurse to come and show him the way, and then she turned and gave her attention wholly to the infant, readying him for his CT scan.
‘OK, Sam,’ she said to the senior house officer. ‘You can take Adam along to Radiology now. I’ll be in trauma two with the girl with the respiratory infection if you need to find me.’
She didn’t give the stranger another thought, except to reflect that he had been unusually persistent. He had waited, and she guessed that he was satisfying himself that all the resuscitation processes were in place so that the child would stand the best chance of recovery.
No one could fault him for that, but wasn’t it a little out of place for him to attempt to ingratiate himself with the doctor in charge before any interviews had begun?
Then again, she could have been misjudging him. Her views on men in general had been skewed by the unfortunate events of her past, and it could be that her opinions had been soured.
He seemed to have the child’s interests at heart, and she would bear that in mind when next they met.
She glanced at the watch on her wrist. She was already running late. Why was it that in this job the pressure never let up? There was a never-ending stream of poor little souls who needed patching up, and she did her best, but sometimes her best just didn’t seem enough.
No wonder Matt Calder was able to breeze through life, charming people with his easy words and blithe spirit. What he knew about stress could probably be written on a postage stamp.
ABBY studied the results of Adam’s CT scan on the computer monitor. ‘There’s a small head injury,’ she told Sam, ‘but no sign of any swelling or haemorrhage, so that’s good news, at least.’
Her senior house officer nodded, an action that caused a lock of brown hair to waft down over his brow. He was a long, lean young man, always keen to learn, and she was glad to have him on her team.
She switched to views of the child’s abdomen, and indicated an area that was giving her cause for concern. ‘I’m a bit worried about these patches. There’s a laceration to the spleen and a slight contusion to the kidney. We’ll need to give him supportive treatment for those, as well as for the contusion we saw on the X-ray of his lungs.’ She frowned. ‘Our biggest problem, though, is the leg fracture. He’ll have to go up to Theatre to have the bones realigned and fixed in place.’
‘I had a word with the surgeon about that. He’s standing by right now.’
‘Good. Let’s transfer him over there straight away.’
‘I will. I’d like to stay with him, if I may, in case there are any complications. I could take him to observation as soon as Mr Bradley releases him from the recovery ward.’
‘That’s fine—as long as there’s nothing pressing to keep you down here?’ She sent him a questioning glance.
Sam gave that some thought. ‘There’s only one child that I’m worried about—a two-year-old who was brought in earlier on. She’s feverish and very unwell, showing symptoms of infection, but I’ve ordered lab tests and I’m waiting on the results. I’ve given her broad-spectrum antibiotics until we have something more specific to go on.’
‘It sounds as though you have everything in hand, and of course the nurse will page you if there’s a problem. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for Adam to be admitted. Let’s just hope that we have a bed free. I don’t think he’s in any condition to be moved to another hospital.’
Sam gave a wry smile. ‘I dare say you’ll be able to sweet-talk the ward sisters into finding something. You always seem to manage to get around the system when it’s really important.’
‘Maybe. We’ll see.’ Sweet-talking didn’t always work, and above all it was time-consuming. Time was yet another major resource she was short on these days, although staffing had to be her biggest headache.
She sucked in a breath at the reminder of what she had to do next. The interviews—she was going to have to get a move on, or her goose was well and truly cooked. Would the man who had come in earlier with three-year-old Adam still be waiting around?
She handed over to her second in command, and then paged Helen to let her know that she would be ready to see the candidates in twenty minutes or so. Taking a few moments to grab a coffee in the doctors’ lounge, she ran a brush through her hair and tried to tame the mass of wild corkscrew curls. It was a waste of time. No sooner had she put the brush down than her hair spiralled out of control once more, and she had to resort to placing a few clips in strategic places.
She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her green eyes stared back at her, shimmering like emeralds, and her lips were a delicate shade of pink, full and pleasantly shaped. She made a faint grimace. At least she didn’t look as bad as she felt. There was an element of battle-readiness in the warm flush of her cheeks, and perhaps that was the key to whatever it was that kept her going through thick and thin. She would not give up. She would not cave in when all around her chaos reigned.
The man was not