an hour ago. Full of beans, too.’
Full of beans.
Did that mean he was laughing at her, laughing at what she’d done? No, of course Jonah wouldn’t laugh. He wasn’t the type. Or at least she didn’t think he was.
‘He left a message for you,’ Fiona continued. ‘Said he’d like a word some time today.’
That didn’t sound good.
‘Did he say what he wanted to talk about?’ Nell asked, determinedly casual, and Fiona shook her head.
‘Maybe he’s still worried about Tommy Moffat.’
That sounded better. Well, not better for little Tommy, but definitely better for her.
‘Jonah’s in Intensive at the moment if you want to see him before you start your shift,’ Fiona continued helpfully, and Nell managed a weak smile.
She didn’t want to see Jonah. She wanted a couple of mugs of black, unsweetened coffee before she went anywhere near the specialist registrar or the unit, but she’d no sooner reached her office than Bea appeared.
‘One newbie admitted at three o’clock,’ the ward sister said, holding out the night staff’s notes to her. ‘Katie Kelly, ten and a half weeks premature, mum and dad’s names are Tricia and Rob.’
‘Anything else?’ Nell asked, gazing longingly at the jar of coffee on her desk and knowing she had as much chance of grabbing a cup as she had of suddenly changing into a five foot nothing, size six film star.
‘Tommy Moffat. Jonah said his BP was all over the place last night.’
Nell’s hand faltered as she reached for her uniform. ‘Jonah was in the unit last night?’
‘He said he had nothing better to do so he thought he’d pop in.’
Oh, ouch, there was only so much honesty a woman wanted to hear, even if it came secondhand.
‘Increase the frequency of Tommy’s obs,’ Nell said with difficulty. ‘If his BP keeps on fluctuating, let me know immediately.’
Bea nodded. ‘Are we still transferring Chloe Wilson and Winston Turner from Special to Transitional today?’
‘Both have been breathing without their ventilators for the past month, and they’re also feeding well with no reflux action so—’
‘They’re almost ready to go home.’ Bea smiled. ‘Don’t you just love being able to tell parents that? It’s what makes working in the NICU so worthwhile.’
It was. Nell knew that some nurses, and quite a few doctors, found the unit unnerving but she had always loved her work. The challenge of keeping the tiny preemies alive, the relief when they started to grow, the joy when they finally left the unit to go home with their parents. Of course, it wasn’ t always like that. There were dark days, grim days, when one of their tiny charges lost their hold on life, but she had never wanted to work anywhere else.
Except today, she realised, after she’d changed into her uniform and Bea led the way into the intensive care section of the unit and she saw Jonah deep in conversation with Callum Nicolson’s mother.
‘Viv’s a bit upset because she still hasn’t been able to express any milk to feed her son,’ Bea murmured as they saw Jonah put his arm around Mrs Nicolson and give her a hug, ‘but he’s good in these situations, isn’t he?’
He was. A lot of doctors possessed the necessary skills to make them proficient neonatologists, but to be a really good one you needed to be able to put yourself into other people’s shoes, to empathise with them, and Jonah could do that with his eyes shut. He was also unexpectedly good at fending off the advances of drunken women, but Nell didn’t want to think about that right now.
‘Is that Rob and Tricia Kelly?’ she asked, seeing a couple she didn’t know standing awkwardly by one of the incubators.
Bea nodded. ‘Jonah’s explained we’re going to have to take it one day at a time, but I think they’re still a bit shell-shocked.’
Nell would have been shell-shocked, too, if one minute she and her husband had been happily asleep in bed and the next she’d gone into labour ten and a half weeks prematurely.
‘This place—it’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?’ Rob said, when Nell walked over to the couple to introduce herself
‘There’s nothing to be frightened of, truly, there isn’t,’ Nell said. ‘Your daughter’s really just in a kind of mini-greenhouse, which will keep her warm and cosy until she’s well enough to cope with the outside world.’
‘But all those wires, all those tubes,’ Tricia said, twisting her dressing-gown belt round in her fingers, her voice uneven. ‘It looks so painful.’
‘Katie needs help with her breathing and feeding, Tricia,’ Nell said gently. ‘We also need to keep an eye on her heart rate and blood pressure. Do you see the monitor up there?’ she continued, pointing to the screen above the incubator. ‘All of Katie’s wires and tubes are linked to it so we can see at a glance how she’s doing.’
She could also see that Jonah was still talking to Callum Nicolson’s mother. Was it her imagination or was he avoiding looking in her direction? No, he was looking at her. Actually, he was staring at her. Probably thinking, Streuth, but that uniform sure hides a multitude of sins.
Stop it, she told herself, just stop it. It’s plan A, remember? You don’t remember last night. Just keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll start to believe it.
‘Sister?’
Tricia Kelly was gazing at her, her eyes very bright, and to Nell’s horror she realised the woman had obviously just asked her something, but she didn’t have a clue what it was. Lord, but now she wasn’t just a drunken slut, she was also completely unprofessional as well.
‘I’m sorry, Tricia,’ she said, her cheeks darkening. ‘I didn’t quite catch…?’
‘I just said I wish I could hold her,’ Tricia replied. ‘If I could hold her, I’d feel…I’d feel she was more mine.’
‘You’ll be able to hold her in a few days,’ Nell said, pulling herself together quickly. ‘At the moment we just want to ensure she’s stabilised, plus—’
‘Plus it can be quite stressful for babies to be touched if they’ve never been held before,’ Jonah chipped in as he joined them. ‘Which, of course, they haven’t because they’ve been safely cocooned in their mumies’ tummies.’
Tricia managed a smile. ‘But won’t I dislodge all those tubes and wires when I’m allowed to hold her?’
Jonah shook his head. ‘They’re all firmly attached and in a few days you won’t even notice them. You’ll be holding and kissing your daughter without a second’s thought.’
He’d kissed her last night, Nell remembered. Or rather, she’d kissed him. Just the once and then he’d wrenched his head away, muttering something unprintable under his breath. It had been a nice kiss, though. Actually, it had
