parts of the hospital like the neonatal intensive care unit.’
They both looked no older than her brother, Peter, who was in his last year of school. Evie suddenly felt a lot older than her twenty-eight years. She wanted to suggest that they could have done their homework in a more timely fashion. Instead, she drew in a deep breath and smiled.
‘I haven’t got long,’ she warned. ‘But I’ll do what I can to help.’
Because that’s what everybody expected of her, wasn’t it? And because that’s what she did. Always had and probably always would.
‘Can I get a shot inside the unit?’ the photographer, Jason, asked. ‘I’ve heard that it’s a world-class facility.’
‘ ICU is actually two units,’ Evie told him. ‘It’s a pod system, with PICU—that’s paediatric intensive care—on one side and NICU—neonatal intensive care—on the other. They share a central staff station and service areas. There’s room for growth with additional pods in the future if necessary.’
She took them as far as the entry-controlled glass doors so that Jason could get some pictures of the banks of monitoring equipment, the transparent, oval cribs and the incubators. The doctors here were wearing pale blue scrubs. The scrubs of the nurses and ancillary staff had a teddy bear print. Everybody was clearly focused on their tiny patients. Even at the central staff station, every patient was under direct observation or being carefully monitored via video cameras and data recordings from the wealth of the best equipment available.
‘Every detail was chosen by our CEO, Theo Hawkwood.’ Evie was so proud of these units. ‘Even tiny things have had to meet the highest standards. Like all those windows to provide natural light and ceiling soffits and baffles to reduce echoed sounds. That paint colour on the walls? You wouldn’t believe the amount of research that went into finding one that doesn’t interfere with an observer’s perception of skin colour.’
‘I love the floor,’ Pippa said. ‘Those inserts in the wood look like rays of sunshine coming from the central station.’
‘The flooring’s state-of-the-art, as well. It has to absorb sound but also be good for infection control, maintenance and moving equipment. The inserts are aesthetic, of course. It is like a big sun, isn’t it?’
‘Only a private hospital with some serious financial backing could achieve something like this.’ Pippa nodded. ‘Mr Hawkwood’s used his private fortune to build Hope Hospital, hasn’t he?’
‘It’s certainly the realisation of a dream he’s held for a long time,’ Evie said smoothly. Not that she was about to start discussing her boss’s personal business. ‘But we don’t simply take private patients. The mission of Hope Hospital includes pro bono cases and a focus on funding cutting-edge paediatric medical research that’s going to benefit everybody. We also have some outstanding conference facilities which are going to attract collaboration from the best brains in the medical world.’
‘His wife died, didn’t she?’ It was no surprise that someone from a society magazine would be more interested in a personal story than hospital architecture. ‘I read that she got killed by a drunk driver, when she was out walking with their daughter, about five years ago. That’s where the name Hope has come from, yes?’
Evie smiled. ‘But it’s also a wonderful name for a children’s hospital, isn’t it? If you came here with a really sick child, hope is the best gift we could give you. Mr Hawkwood hasn’t just been involved with every detail of building this amazing hospital—he handpicks the staff that get employed here, as well. People are coming from all over the world to join our team. We’ve got a new neonatal cardiac surgeon arriving today, in fact, from Australia. Which reminds me...’ Evie glanced at her watch. ‘I really need to check to see if he’s here yet. And get over to the conference centre.’
‘We’ll come with you.’ Pippa smiled. ‘But let’s get a quick shot of you out by the reception desk.’
‘No...’ Evie shook her head sharply. ‘No photos of me, please...’
Good grief. Imagine if a picture of her, in her plain working outfit of this old skirt and jacket, got published alongside everyone in their gorgeous cocktail dresses and tuxedos at the gala? And that was another reminder. At some point, she had to find time to get out to the car park, retrieve her dress and shoes and do something to smarten herself up so that she could attend the gala herself.
Michelle seemed happy to have a photograph taken. She was still smiling as she handed Evie a handful of paper notes.
‘There’s been lots of calls,’ she told Evie. ‘Sounds like you’re needed in the conference room. Mr Hawkwood is there already, I think.’
‘I’m heading there right now. Has Mr Walker arrived?’
‘No. No sign of him. No messages, either.’ Michelle looked unimpressed as she looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s getting late. Hey—don’t you need to get changed soon? You can’t miss the gala.’
‘Yeah... I’ll get there.’
Hope Children’s Hospital had been built with two wings on either side of a round, central building that had been publicly praised as an echo of Cambridge’s famous twelfth-century round church and it was positioned to be filled with natural light from walls of windows and for the upper floors to take advantage of the stunning views over the city of Cambridge. The intensive care units were on the top floor of the right wing, and the largest conference room was at the same level in the left wing.
It was already dark as Evie took her visitors across the top floor of the hospital, giving a rapid rundown of where other areas were located, like the theatre suites and wards, laboratories and research suites, but they seemed distracted.
‘Look at that view,’ Pippa breathed. ‘You can see pretty much the whole of Cambridge.’
‘Wait till you see the gala venue.’
Evie knew that the view from the glass wall of the huge conference venue would be breathtaking. The sparkle of the city’s lights laid out below was going to be the perfect backdrop to tonight’s event.
But Pippa wasn’t thinking about the view when they arrived. ‘That’s Mr Hawkwood, isn’t it?’ She looked delighted. ‘Do you think he’d have time for a quick interview?’
‘I’ll check. Stay here for a moment.’ Evie eyed the long tables covered in crisp, white linen as she walked past. One was laden with champagne flutes that were gleaming under the lights and another was being set up with silver platters of delicious-looking finger food.
‘Evie...’ Theo Hawkwood was walking to meet her. Tall and charismatic, the former paediatric surgeon was so passionate about Hope Hospital, it was easy to forget how young he was to hold such a prestigious position. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted to thank you in person. I hear it’s largely down to you that all this has come together.’
‘It was a team effort, Theo.’ Being in the spotlight made Evie feel distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Everybody’s worked very hard.’
‘I don’t know how you do it.’ Theo smiled. ‘On top of your job and those extra duties...’
Evie dismissed the question of how he knew about those ‘extra duties’. This was his hospital and Theo had kept his finger on its pulse from
