far. She wasn’t used to wearing such high heels and her feet were hurting by the time she arrived at the pub, a huge blister already forming on her heel where the strap had been rubbing. Still, the sandals looked a lot more glamorous than her usual sensible flatties so she would just have to grin and bear it.
‘Maggie! Over here. We’ve saved you a seat.’ Angela stood up and waved when she saw Maggie coming in. The pub was used a lot by staff from the hospital and it was packed that night. It had just gone eight and the middle shift had just finished work; quite a few of them had stopped off for a drink on their way home.
‘Thanks! What a scrum. Anyone would think we were all alcoholics if they saw how many hospital staff used this place,’ she declared pithily, squeezing into a gap on the wooden settle.
‘Not that any of us fall into that category, of course,’ Donna Parsons put in, rolling her eyes expressively. ‘We aren’t here for the drink but purely for the pleasure of each other’s company!’
‘Speak for yourself. I make no bones about the fact that I need a drink after the day I’ve had!’ Robin White, the newest houseman on the surgical team, picked up his pint glass and took a long swallow. ‘At one point I found myself wondering why I had willingly gone in for medicine as a career. I mean, I could have been a solicitor or an accountant or…or anything rather than a doctor!’
Everyone laughed, but Maggie could tell that Robin hadn’t been joking. Something had obviously upset him that day and she couldn’t help wondering what had caused the normally easygoing young doctor to feel like that.
‘So what happened?’ she asked under cover of the conversation.
‘What didn’t happen would be an easier question to answer!’ Robin set his glass on a coaster. His pleasant face looked unusually grim. ‘We had an emergency in Theatre. Jefferson was operating on this chap who had been thrown off his motorbike and suffered multiple fractures. He was a mess, I can tell you, and it was obvious that old Jeffers was out of his depth.’
Maggie sighed. Norman Jefferson had worked at Dalverston General for more years than anyone could care to count. It was rumoured that he’d refused to retire when he’d been offered the chance a few months earlier. There was no doubt that he must have been a skilled surgeon in his younger days, but those days were long past. Frankly, it was fast reaching the point where he was becoming a liability. Maggie knew that the surgical team had a tacit agreement to make sure that Jefferson was never left to deal with any difficult surgery by himself, but obviously the system had fallen down that day.
‘So what went on?’ she asked softly, glancing round to make sure that nobody was listening. Although everyone in the hospital was aware of the situation, she guessed that Robin would feel uncomfortable about the others hearing him criticise the older man.
‘Just about everything that could go wrong did so. Everyone was on pins as soon as they discovered that Jefferson would be operating. Normally, someone would have headed him off at the pass, so to speak.’
He gave her a grim smile. ‘It was just unfortunate that another casualty had been brought into A and E a few minutes earlier, needing urgent surgery. It meant that everyone was tied up when the motorcyclist was sent up to Theatre so there was nobody there to step in when Jefferson announced that he would deal with the case.’
‘Tricky situation,’ she murmured sympathetically.
‘You can say that again! Anyway, we were all keyed up, as you can imagine. It seemed to be going quite well at first and then somehow or other Jefferson nicked the femoral artery…’ Robin shrugged, not needing to explain the problems that had caused.
‘What on earth happened after that?’ Maggie exclaimed in horror, trying not to visualise the scene of chaos that must have ensued. She felt quite sick when she thought about the injured motorcyclist possibly bleeding to death on the operating table. ‘He didn’t—well, you know?’
‘Die? No, but it was a close call, I can tell you. Jefferson just seemed to go to pieces, he didn’t appear to have any idea what to do. I just grabbed the phone and rang for help—’ Robin broke off. A smile brightened his face as he looked towards the door. ‘Aha, here he is now, the hero of the hour!’
Maggie looked round and felt her stomach sink when she saw that Luke had come into the pub. She’d had no idea that he’d been invited to the party that night, although she should have guessed, she thought as she watched him making his way towards them. The staff at Dalverston General had taken to him in a big way, as was evident from the number of people who greeted him en route. It wasn’t just the staff from the surgical wards either—everyone seemed to know him and be pleased to see him.
Her brow furrowed. Everyone liked Luke. Everyone admired him. Robin considered him to be a hero, even. So how come she didn’t feel the same way about him as everyone else did? Why was her view so opposed to the general consensus? Exactly who was right? Her or them?
She took a deep breath, feeling her heart hammering against her ribs because the next, logical step scared her. She had a duty to find out who the real Luke Fabrizzi was.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
