Le Saux nodded. ‘And what can you tell me about the disease?’
At least medical staff could now speak frankly in front of their young charges—which was a relief, thought Nicolette as she gave Simon a dazzling smile. Research had long since shown that honesty was the best policy when dealing with children and that ‘protecting’ them by concealing the nature of their illness often led to their constructing frightening fantasies that were far worse than the truth.
‘It’s an inherited condition, affecting many tissues, particularly those with endocrine glands,’ she summarised fluently.
‘And how would you describe the endocrine glands, very simply, to a junior nurse?’ he probed.
Nicolette decided that she would have to award him ten out of ten for persistence, but just about resisted pulling a face at him because she had to concede that he had a point. Some senior nurses did waffle on without knowing how to explain a subject adequately yet succinctly. None-the-less, the last time she had been asked directly about the endocrine glands had been during her last set of examination papers!
She creased her brows together in concentration. ‘They are a series of small glands, situated in various parts of the body, which form secretions known as hormones,’ she told him.
He nodded. ‘Good. So tell me how cystic fibrosis presents?’ he queried immediately.
Nicolette could see that she was going to have to spend every evening with her nose in a textbook if she was to continue working on Dr Le Saux’s ward! ‘The majority of patients present with diarrhoea and failure to thrive, due to malabsorption or recurrent persistent chest infection. Or both. The diagnosis is made by—’
‘I’m the one asking the questions, Staff,’ he growled impatiently.
‘Certainly, Doctor,’ she answered politely, but her eyes flashed a spark of defiance at the way he had just arrogantly butted in like that. Talking to her as though she were fresh off her first ward, instead of a highly qualified nurse with five years of exacting training behind her! She caught Simon looking up and watching her, a broad grin on his pale face.
‘Don’t take any notice of him, Nurse,’ he told her, almost cheerfully. ‘He’s always growling. He has to—he’s a lion man!’
‘That’s enough, Simon!’said Dr Le Saux warningly.
Teasing his doctor seemed to have given Simon a definite rise in spirits. ‘That’s what he’s called, too—lion man! Suits him, doesn’t it?’
Nicolette raised her thick black brows above clear blue eyes and looked with frank curiosity at Dr Le Saux. Lion man? ‘Oh?’ she queried in a faint, soft voice.
‘My name is Leander,’ he told her reluctantly in that deep, deep voice which sounded exactly like rich, runny honey spilling slowly over gravel.
‘That’s rather . . . unusual,’ said Nicolette lamely, the curiosity remaining in her blue eyes.
He frowned, then sighed, as if recognising that some kind of explanation was in order. ‘It’s Greek for “lion man”—as Simon has so accurately pointed out.’
Leander! Nicolette blinked. Of all the remarkable names for a man. . .‘But weren’t you teased about it at school?’ she blurted out before she could stop herself.
He looked taken aback, as though the question had surprised him, and Nicolette suspected that he would not have chosen to answer it, had not Simon butted in eagerly.
‘Did they, Doctor?’
The tall man’s eyes rested thoughtfully on the young boy, and he nodded slowly, as though he had guessed Simon’s true reasons for asking. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘They did try to tease me. But they didn’t succeed.’
‘Because you’re big, and tough,’ hazarded Simon gloomily. ‘And could knock them down with a punch.’
But Dr Le Saux shook his head. ‘No, Simon,’ he responded quietly. ‘If you resort to physical violence then you’re putting yourself on the same level as the cowards who are bullying you—and believe me, that’s all that they are, nothing but pathetic cowards.’
‘Then. . .how did you get them to leave you alone?’ asked Simon diffidently, and Nicolette’s heart turned over in sympathy for the young lad, for it was transparently obvious that he must have been the butt of bullying himself.
‘By ignoring them,’ Dr Le Saux answered sternly. ‘Simple, but effective. They soon get bored repeating something if they can see that it isn’t upsetting you.’
‘And if it is upsetting you?’ said Simon falteringly.
‘Then you pretend. Pretend it isn’t, and soon they’ll stop. And if you can practise giving them a pitying little smile like this,’ and he curved his mouth into the haughtiest look of pride that Nicolette had ever seen, ‘at the same time,’ he carried on, ‘then they’ll steer well clear. Try it,’ he advised softly. ‘It works; I promise you.’
Simon nodded slowly, as if a promise from this particular doctor was something to be cherished. ‘I will.’
Nicolette found herself watching the tall paediatrician covertly, thinking about the man, and about the name. And whoever had chosen it had been spot on because yes, the name suited him. Really suited him.
He had impressively broad shoulders, which suggested strength, and the lean musculature of his long limbs marked him out as hunter, protector and provider. And here, standing beside the window, where the sunlight streamed in on them, she could see that his hair was not merely very thick and dark, as she had thought when she had first seen him, but that it also had the most astonishing dark red lights dancing in its depths, and, although it was neatly trimmed, its very thickness and intriguing hint of unruliness were not dissimilar to the texture of a lion’s mane. . .
She came out of her fanciful daydream to find him staring at her, a look of faint question in his eyes, and Nicolette realised that she must have been standing there ogling him! Oh, dear! She hastily cleared her throat. ‘Er—any more questions you wanted to ask me?’
‘I was going to ask you about the outlook,’ he told her softly.
For a moment her brain was complete mush. ‘The outlook?’ she echoed stupidly.
‘Of cystic fibrosis,’ he explained crisply.
Of course. Thank heavens to have something concrete to focus her attention on, other than the magnificent lion-like qualities of the man who stood in front of her! Nicolette didn’t falter. ‘The long-term survival has improved considerably in recent years, and there are now a great many adult CF patients who are leading fulfilled lives. In the meantime the adults of tomorrow can take great comfort from knowing that a vast amount of research is being done into the disease.’ And she gave Simon’s hand another tiny squeeze.
‘That’s what I keep telling Simon,’ said Dr Le Saux quietly. ‘But you take a lot of convincing, don’t you, my lad?’
Nicolette’s eyes were shining as she looked down at the patient. ‘Well, I’ve said it, too—and I wasn’t primed to, was I? How many more people would you like to repeat it to you, Simon, before you believe it?’
