yes, I know she’s alive—alive and well and in another man’s bed. That takes some getting used to, Lizzi. I dare say I was at fault too, but no more than any other junior hospital doctor struggling to establish a career. At least your husband left you reluctantly, without destroying your belief in yourself as a lovable human being! Hell, I’m too tired for this. We’ll argue about it another time. Thank you for the coffee.’
With that he was gone, and she let herself back inside. Her legs were trembling slightly, and she felt shaken and upset.
It wasn’t improved by finding her mother waiting for her in the kitchen.
Lizzi sighed. Here we go, she thought. She wasn’t wrong.
‘What a charming man, Lizzi. He doesn’t seem the least bit cross with you.’
She snorted. ‘He is now.’
‘Oh, Lizzi, how have you upset him?’
‘He was prying about David. It serves him right.’
Her mother sighed. ‘I don’t know how you expect to find another man if you——’
‘I don’t want another man! I’m quite happy the way I am! Nobody suggests you should rush out and find yourself another husband, so why should I?’
‘Because, my dear, you’re twenty-nine years old and I am fifty-four. I’ve had my family, I’m confined to a wheelchair and I have very little to offer. You, on the other hand, are young, beautiful, and you have your whole life ahead of you. You need a partner, Lizzi. You aren’t whole any more. You need the love of a good man to make you complete.’
Her heart gave a sudden thump. ‘You have an overactive imagination, Mum,’ Lizzi said, and changed the subject firmly. ‘What was it Jean told you to think about?’
‘Oh, nothing much,’ her mother replied airily, waving her slender hand. ‘Just a little trip we thought we might take—and don’t change the subject. We were talking abut Ross.’
‘No, we weren’t! You were trying to marry me off!’
‘Quite! Now, about Ross——’
‘No, Mother!’ Lizzi said firmly, and changed the subject again.
However, later that night, lying restlessly in bed, she raised her fingers to her lips and touched them lightly. How odd, she thought, that they should still tingle. An image of Ross sprang to mind, and a wave of heat washed over her body. Was her mother right? Did she need a man’s love? Then the heat drained away, insignificant in the aching emptiness. She’d had that love once, and lost it. Did she dare try again?
She thought again of Ross’s words. Did he really think he was unlovable? That was crazy. He was warm, generous, funny, professionally extremely competent and thorough, quick to anger but even quicker to forgive, as she had found out. All that, coupled with his striking good looks and lazy sensuality—no woman in her right mind could fail to love him, Lizzi thought, and then the heat washed over her again, leaving her trembling with fear and anticipation—and surprise.
Surely not? No! She couldn’t fall for him—she wouldn’t allow it! To expose herself to that terrible agony of loss all over again—no, it was out of the question. Anyway, it was probably just hormones. She would ignore him, she decided, and he would give up.
But what if he didn’t? What if he persisted in unravelling her, as he had put it? What would she do then? What she had done in the past—freeze him out. They gave up quickly, usually. Men hated rejection; it was bad for the ego. She didn’t want to hurt Ross, and for that reason it would be best to act immediately, before he felt he had a hope. Her mind made up, she turned over, punched the pillow into shape and fell instantly asleep.
It was another busy morning. Jennifer Adams had had a restless night and was in pain, and Oliver came up to see her and adjust her drugs.
‘Ross was in a towering paddy last night, by the way,’ he commented. ‘Seems someone wrapped his new car in the car park yesterday.’
Lizzi blushed, and he eyed her speculatively. ‘Was it you?’ She nodded, and he cleared his throat. She thought it sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh. ‘Have you seen him yet?’
‘As a matter of fact, I have, we sorted it out last night, but I’d be grateful if you didn’t spread it around.’
Trust me,’ he said with a wicked twinkle, and left the ward for Outpatients. As she turned round, Lizzi almost fell over Dan Haig, the houseman. He was smirking.
‘Haven’t you got anything to do?’ she snapped, and marched into her office.
Ross was thankfully absent, as it was his list that morning, and he was tucked away in Theatre, leaving her in peace.
At twelve Lucy Hallett came into the office and told her that Jennifer Adams wanted to talk to her. She made her way to the little side-ward, and perched on the edge of the chair beside the bed.
Jennifer was young, only twenty-three, and understandably frightened and unhappy. Her soft brown eyes were puzzled, and she was pale. She gripped Lizzi’s hand.
‘How’s Peter?’ she asked. ‘Nobody seems to know how he’s getting on. Someone told me he might be moved to Addenbrookes, but not why, and now I can’t seem to get any further information out of anyone. I have to know how he is!’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ Lizzi answered honestly. ‘I’ll do my best to find out.’
‘Why would they take him to Addenbrookes? That’s where they take the head injuries, isn’t it?’
Lizzi remembered that Jennifer’s husband had been the one in ITU the previous morning, who was to have been moved as soon as he was stabilised enough. ‘That’s right. I understand he did have head injuries, which is why they were moving him, but I have no idea of the extent of the injuries, or even if he’s been transferred yet. I’ll find out for you. And don’t worry, you’ll soon be feeling better and then you’ll be able to see him.’
She left the room and went back to her office, troubled. Why hadn’t the consultants told Mrs Adams about her husband’s condition? She flicked through the Kardex, but there was no relèvent note on it. She phoned ITU, and the sister there told her that Mr Adams hadn’t been transferred.
Oh, good. He must be less severe than at first thought, then?’ Lizzi speculated.
‘Unfortunately not. He’s too fragile to move. He had a massive depressed fracture and they did a craniotomy, but his intra-cranial pressure’s risen and he’s leaking CSF from his nose. We’re ice-packing him now to induce hypothermia—that might reduce it, but he’s been on the life-support since they admitted him. They’re about to repeat the brain-stem test, but I think it’s just a formality. He’s got no reflexes and his pupils are fixed. I’ll keep you posted.’
Lizzi thanked her and hung up. It was worse, far worse than she had anticipated. She went back to Jennifer, put on a bright face and smiled.
‘He’s still here, and they’re running some more tests. I’ll let you know the results as soon as we have them.’
She went up to lunch, and poked a salad around her plate for
