she sighed inwardly. From what she’d seen of him over the last couple of months, Alex Morgan was good with their patients, but all his social skills seemed to switch off as soon as he had to deal with his colleagues on anything other than a work basis. He hadn’t been to a single team night out, always ate lunch on his own, and if he was in the staff kitchen he never joined in with the conversation.
She didn’t think he was being snooty; but she didn’t think he was shy, either. There was obviously a reason why he kept his distance from everyone else, but Dani—who’d always got on well with everyone—had no idea how to reach him. He was possibly the most difficult person in the department to have as the co-organiser of the ward’s Christmas party, but she’d just have to make the best of it.
‘You wanted to see me?’ he asked.
‘We need to talk about organising the ward’s Christmas meal. Are you busy at lunchtime today, or can we discuss it over a sandwich?’
‘Sorry. I have meetings,’ he said.
Dani didn’t believe a word of it, but the ward’s Christmas meal still needed to be sorted out. If she gave Alex a longer timeframe, he’d be forced to pick a day. And if he picked one of the two evenings this week when she was busy, then she’d move her other arrangements because she really wanted to get this done and dusted. She gave him the sweetest, sweetest smile. ‘OK. Do you have time for a coffee after work some time in the next two weeks to discuss it?’
He masked his expression quickly, but not before Dani had seen it. He’d obviously realised what her game plan was, and he couldn’t think of a decent excuse that would work for two whole weeks.
Gotcha, she thought in satisfaction.
He took his phone out of his pocket and made a show of checking his diary, though she was pretty sure it wasn’t that full.
‘How about tomorrow?’ he suggested.
‘That’ll be fine, as Hayley’s training with Sam tomorrow night.’ She glared at her cast. ‘Thanks to this.’
‘Uh-huh.’
OK. So he wasn’t going to bite. Anyone else would’ve been polite enough to ask what she’d done to her foot, or at least make a comment. But Alex clearly didn’t want to get into conversation with her. Fair enough. She couldn’t force him to make friends with her. If he wanted to keep himself to himself, that was his decision and it wasn’t her place to try and change it.
‘Thank you. I’ll meet you outside the staffroom tomorrow after our shift,’ she said.
‘Fine,’ he said.
And still he didn’t give her a single smile.
She sighed inwardly, and got on with writing up the case notes from her clinic that morning.
* * *
God, what was wrong with him? Alex wondered as he headed to his own office. Danielle Owens was nice. She’d been friendly right from his first day on the ward, trying to make him feel part of the team, and in response he’d been completely standoffish. Meeting her for a drink tomorrow night to discuss the team’s Christmas meal was the only social invitation he’d accepted in the two months he’d been working at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital, and that was solely because the head of the department had blithely informed him that his predecessor had been scheduled to organise it with Dani and he was sure that Alex would be happy to step into those shoes, too.
Actually, Alex wasn’t happy about it. At all. But he didn’t have much choice.
Maybe he should’ve taken a longer break. But six months was surely long enough to get your head round the fact that you weren’t who you thought you were, and everything you’d always believed wasn’t true. He needed to stop sulking about it and just get on with things. And he’d really missed his job. At least he knew who he was at work. Alexander Morgan, obstetric consultant.
He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to start brooding. Or to wonder whether his shortness of temper and foul mood was an early sign of the incurable neurodegenerative disease that the man he now had to think of as his father was suffering from. He had notes to write up, a sandwich to eat, and a clinic to sort out.
* * *
‘OK, Mrs Hamilton—may I call you Judy?’ Dani asked.
The other woman nodded, looking wretched.
‘According to our notes, you’re sixteen weeks pregnant at the moment, and your midwife asked if I could fit you into my clinic today.’
Judy dragged in a breath. ‘Thank you so much for seeing me, Dr Owens.’
‘Call me Dani. And it’s no problem. So tell me how things are going,’ Dani said.
‘It’s awful,’ Judy said. ‘I’ve never felt so ill in my entire life. I can’t keep anything down, even water. I’ve tried everything—sniffing lemons, drinking ginger tea and eating a dry biscuit before I get up in the morning. I’m not doing any cooking, and when I do try to eat it’s things that don’t smell and are high in carbs and not fatty, but I still can’t keep anything down.’
Judy was doing all the right things to help with morning sickness, Dani knew; but what she was suffering from sounded rather more serious than everyday morning sickness.
‘Nothing works, and all I seem to do is throw up all day.’ Judy grimaced. ‘My boss sent me home from work today, saying I had to take a few days off, and there was blood in the vomit last time I threw up. That’s why I called my midwife, because I was so worried.’
‘I’m glad you did. Did the blood look like little streaks?’ Dani asked.
Judy nodded.
‘OK. I know it looks scary but it’s actually quite normal in pregnancy,’ Dani reassured her. ‘When you’ve been sick a lot, the lining of your oesophagus gets irritated and it’s more likely to get a tiny little tear in it, which is why you saw blood. But we really need to get to the bottom of why you’re being sick all the time. Are you OK for me to take a blood sample from you?’
Judy looked slightly nervous. ‘I hate needles, but yes.’
Dani took a sample of blood to check Judy’s electrolytes, renal function and liver function.
‘And can I ask you to get on the scales for me?’ She checked the display. ‘You’ve lost four kilograms since your last check-up.’
‘Is that bad?’
‘It’s completely what I expected, with what you’ve told me about being so sick,’ Dani said, and handed Judy a sample bottle. ‘Can you do me a midstream urine sample, please?’
While Judy was in the toilet, Dani sent the blood tests off. When Judy came back, the urine sample was quite dark, indicating that Judy was dehydrated, and a dipstick test showed signs of ketones, where the body broke down fat instead of glucose for energy.
‘Is it all OK?’ Judy asked.
‘All your symptoms added together are giving me a better picture,’ Dani said. She checked Judy’s notes. ‘When you had your twelve-week scan, the radiographer
