was his responsibility to provide her with as many opportunities as he could.
Thankfully Maureen was already at her desk, reviewing the contents of her handbag before she started her day. At least he could send someone else to provide Cori with the welcome that he’d entirely failed to give.
‘Was that the new art therapist I saw you with?’ Maureen dispensed with the usual Good morning and Did you have a nice weekend?
‘It was. Do you still have time to show her around?’
‘Of course. What have you said to her?’
‘That I’d see if I could find you …’
‘So, in other words, you ducked the issue.’
‘I know it looks a lot like that. Now I’m Acting Head of Department, I think I’m allowed to call it delegating.’ He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes. Maureen had been in the department for twenty years and there was no one, including Tom, who hadn’t been picked up and dusted down by her at one point or another in their career.
‘I’ll tell you now that I’ve no intention of playing good cop. Or bad cop, for that matter, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ He imagined that the woman he’d met yesterday in A and E would spot such a game a mile off, and probably outplay him. ‘I just want you to keep an eye out for her. Let me know how she’s doing.’
‘And the better she does, the less you’ll like it?’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Does she know that?’
‘It’s not as simple as that …’
‘No. Nothing ever is.’ Maureen got to her feet, pulling her jacket straight in a no-nonsense motion. ‘Just as long as I’m not the one who has to explain that to her.’
Tom Riley was almost certainly a better doctor than he was a boss. Cori considered the matter carefully as she tidied up the pens and paper from the afternoon’s art session. It had been fun. Children from the ward had been joined by parents and siblings and more than one person had said that it was a great addition to the pastoral care that the unit provided. The only problem was that it hadn’t been art therapy.
The next eight weeks might not be precious to Tom but they were precious to her and time was trickling away. A day, then two, now three …
As expected, Ralph and Jean had provided comfort food, followed by advice over the washing-up.
‘You know this isn’t your fault, don’t you?’ Ralph was soaping plates vigorously.
‘That’s how it feels.’ She could share those fears with Ralph. He knew that was how she’d felt when she’d been a kid, rejected by one family after another. It had almost been too late by the time he and Jean had finally found her.
‘So you’ll be getting up at six in the morning to do the housework?’ A smile played around Ralph’s mouth. ‘You want a hand with that?’
Cori chuckled. That was exactly what he had said when he’d found her in the kitchen, seven years old and trying to reach the switch for the washing machine, reckoning that if she made herself useful Ralph and Jean might keep her for a while. She’d liked their relaxed, cluttered household from the start and being allowed to stay had seemed like the first time a dream had ever come true for her.
‘I think I’ve got it covered. I’m not going to be washing Dr Riley’s socks.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ Ralph stacked more plates onto the drainer, his brow puckered in thought. ‘So let me get this clear. There’s an initial eight-week period, and if that’s a success the post becomes permanent.’
‘Yes, that’s right. It’s such a good opportunity, working with children, close to home. It’s exactly the job I want.’
‘And this Dr Riley doesn’t want you. Why on earth did he agree to it in the first place?’
‘That’s the thing, he didn’t. His predecessor, Dr Shah, agreed to it, and now this Dr Riley has got his reservations. I’ve emailed the scheme’s supervisor to ask her why, but she’s now on holiday. And I’m sure Dr Riley’s avoiding me.’
‘Is there anyone else you can talk to?’
‘Only Maureen, the unit administrator. She’s been really welcoming, but it’s up to Dr Riley to refer specific patients on to me if I’m to do any clinical work. If he doesn’t do that, then all I can do is general art sessions.’
‘And you’re taking that personally, eh?’
‘How else can it take it? Every time I see him he either rushes off before I can get to talk to him or he says he’s busy and he’ll get back to me.’
‘Is he like that with everyone else?’ Ralph frowned as he turned the problem over in his head.
‘You saw what he was like with Adrian, he’s fantastic with the kids. They all think he’s the coolest doctor ever.’
‘What about the other staff?’
‘Everyone says he’s great. That he always listens and is very fair about things. They seem to like him a lot better than Dr Shah. He was apparently pretty autocratic.’
The frightened child in her, who had blamed herself each time a fostering arrangement had fallen through, had been tugging at Cori’s sleeve for the last three days. Keeping her behind after work, even though her sore ribs were screaming for a hot bath, working to make the best of the room she’d been given.
She’d succeeded. The children loved the room, and no one had been able to walk across the threshold without being tempted to touch at least something. The problem had been that Tom Riley hadn’t yet found time to walk across the threshold. And that rejection outweighed every other expression of delight.
Ralph shook the suds from his hands, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. ‘There’s no shame in saying this place isn’t right for you, Cori. You don’t have to prove yourself. They’re the ones who have to be good enough for you.’
She hugged him tight. ‘Thanks. Spoken like the best dad in the world.’
Ralph gave a small chuckle of pleasure. ‘So what are you going to do, then? We’re around at the weekend to help you with some more job applications, if you want to come over.’
It seemed like a plan. Since this job didn’t seem to be going too well, it would be good to keep all her options open. But she wasn’t ready to give up on Dr Riley just yet.
‘Thanks. I think I’ll give it another week or so, though. I’ve still got a couple more things up my sleeve.’
It had been a long and busy week and all Tom wanted to do was go home, fling himself onto the sofa and think about nothing. Heading up the paediatric unit wasn’t as easy as Dr Shah had made it look. But slowly he was cracking it. One problem at a time. One patient. One member of staff.
The light glimmering on his windscreen hadn’t stood out amongst the other reflections from the overhead strip lighting in the car park. In truth, he’d been thinking hard about
