by Anne Fraser
Daniel grinned at her and for a second she thought her heart had stopped beating.
‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said and sought the refuge of her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it. Look, she told herself, firmly, he’s only a man in a fancy suit, even if he does have a heartbreaking smile. God, God, God. Where had the last thought come from?
She set about packing her weekend bag, forcing herself to concentrate on remembering everything. Slippers? Check. Clothes, including clean underwear? Check. Toiletries? She’d pick them up from the bathroom on her way out. What else? Did a person need a passport to travel on a private plane?
She poked her head out of the door. Daniel had made himself comfortable on one of her chairs and was flicking through The Bride magazine, an incredulous look on his face.
‘Do I need my passport?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Er…Dublin isn’t part of the UK, if you remember?’
Colleen slammed the door shut. Now he’d think her an idiot too! By the time they got to London, he’d probably have decided to employ someone else. But why should she think that? He was interested in her for her professional skills—not interviewing her as a potential wife!
Once her bag was packed, she looked in the mirror to check her hair. She was pale with dark smudges under her eyes, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sleep was what she needed. In her feverish haste to pack her bags so that she could get Daniel out of her flat her hair had come loose from its braid and wisps were falling into her eyes. She grabbed her hair brush and redid the plait, making sure every last one of her unruly locks was contained. Then she added a slick of lipstick and she was ready. Or as ready as she’d ever be. For once she wished she had listened to Trish on one of their many futile shopping expeditions—at least as far as Trish was concerned—and had bought a dress she could have worn. Something that would give her confidence.
Daniel got to his feet when she came back out of her bedroom with the slow indolence of a lion waking up from a sleep.
‘I just have to get my wash bag and I’m ready,’ she said.
He took her overnight bag from her hand. ‘Let’s go, then.’
* * *
Daniel slid a look at Colleen as they were driven towards the airport. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected.
When she’d turned Haversham down he’d been shocked. No one had ever refused to do something for Daniel before. And the salary—one most people would have found it hard to refuse—hadn’t made the slightest difference. Her refusal had made him more determined to secure her services than he’d been before. And he’d been keen then. Especially after the ringing endorsement her old consultant at Guy’s had given her. ‘She’s a tiger,’ he’d said, ‘and she never gives up. Don’t let that innocent face fool you. What Colleen wants, she gets. Nothing and no one stands in the way of Colleen McCulloch when it comes to what is best for her patients. She’s not always conventional, but she’s always right. That’s what makes her special.’
Somehow he’d imagined the redoubtable Nurse McCulloch, whom everyone he’d spoken to had praised to the sky, to look older, to be more severe. Instead she looked like a teenager with her curls escaping from its elastic band and falling in wisps over her face that she constantly and ineffectually tried to tuck back in. He liked the way her mouth turned up at the corners as if in a permanent smile, even the way her eyes flashed when she was annoyed about something. He’d even liked the way her flat looked. Okay, some might say that it looked as if the occupant had been fighting with a pack of wild animals that had found their way into her home, but there was a good feeling about her small flat with its bunches of wild flowers arranged haphazardly in jam jars. It reminded him somehow of his mother’s holiday home in Dorset. The memory made his stomach clench. That cottage had been Eleanor and Harry’s home until the accident. Now his son was lying in a hospital bed, unaware that his mother had died and that all he had left was a father whom he barely knew.
Daniel stole another look at Colleen. He was more determined than ever to have her as Harry’s nurse. He hoped to hell she lived up to her reputation.
CHAPTER THREE
SO THIS was how the other half lived? Colleen thought, looking around the interior of the plane. If she were honest, a tiny little bit of her was impressed. Only a minuscule bit, mind. The other part of her felt slightly ridiculous having the attentions of a stewardess all to themselves on the tiny, if luxurious, twin-propped plane. And ridiculously under-dressed in her boy jeans and T-shirt, carrying nothing but an imitation designer handbag over her shoulder.
Almost as soon as they’d taken off, Daniel had taken out some papers and a laptop. Once she’d had a good look around and got over the excitement of being on a private plane—and she couldn’t pretend for the life of her that she wasn’t—even if it might make her look like a country bumpkin in Daniel’s eyes—she’d fallen asleep.
* * *
She’d only woken when Daniel had bent over her and whispered that they were landing and she needed to fasten her seat belt. For a moment when she’d opened her eyes, she couldn’t remember where she was. She’d been having a lovely dream. A dream where she was behind someone on a horse and they were galloping off somewhere. As she stared groggily into Daniel’s eyes, she realised with a guilty start that the person on the horse hadn’t been Ciaran. It had been someone with green eyes—the man looking down at her, in fact.
She had hidden her embarrassment by escaping to the small onboard toilet and splashing her face with cold water.
* * *
When they were escorted through Heathrow airport and towards a sleek, black, stretch limousine. Colleen noticed people nudging each other, puzzlement etched on their faces as they tried to place them. Daniel with his snazzy suit and air of confidence had to be someone famous and as for Colleen, she must be some pop or film star—someone of importance—surely under-dressing to fool the media?
The thought made her smile. She might as well enjoy her moment in the limelight—it was probably the only one she would have until her wedding day.
They sat in silence as they were driven to the hospital. Daniel had his laptop out again and was deeply immersed in whatever he was reading. She’d never met anyone quite so focused on the task in hand before. One minute his attention was completely concentrated on making her do what he wanted, the next minute he was totally engrossed in whatever was on that laptop of his. She simply couldn’t make him out. But it was his son that concerned her. How badly had his brain been injured? What was his prognosis? She wouldn’t take this job unless she was sure she could help him.
Whizzing along the motorway seeing London city silhouetted in the distance, Colleen felt a thrill of excitement. She’d always planned to come back to London, but somehow the opportunity had never arisen. Ciaran wasn’t the adventurous type. He always said that he didn’t see the point in travelling to foreign places when you had everything you needed on your own doorstep.
Although she’d never admit it to Trish, sometimes Colleen longed for a bit more excitement. Was she just being foolish for secretly wanting Ciaran to whisk her away to Paris for a weekend? As he’d said, it’d be a waste of money when they needed every penny to get their house finished before the wedding. But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?
The car swung sharply to the right, pulling up outside the familiar buildings of Guy’s, the hospital where Colleen had trained. She knew from what he’d told her that Harry had been in ITU before being transferred to the high-dependency unit and then to the paediatric ward.
In the ward, posters covered the walls in an attempt to make the unit as cheerful as possible. Every room was a single and a large bright day room filled with toys lead off to the left.
Daniel paused at the very last room and held a finger to his lips. ‘We have to go in quietly. Harry gets startled by any loud noise and it unsettles him.’
‘Why don’t you go in to see Harry, first, while I chat to the nurses?’ Co
lleen suggested. ‘Then I’ll come in and say hello.’
Daniel nodded briefly and Colleen went to find the nurse in charge of the ward. When she explained who she was and why she was there, she was directed to an office. A woman with short dark hair looked up from her paperwork and held out a hand. ‘I’m Sister Lipton.’
Sister Lipton waited until Colleen was sitting down before she continued. ‘So you’re the person who’s to be Harry’s private nurse?’ she said. ‘Mr Frobisher has told us of his plans.’
Colleen didn’t bother to correct her. She had yet to decide whether she was going to take Harry on.
‘I have to tell you that I think taking Harry home at this point is a mistake,’ Sister Lipton continued.
‘Can I ask why?’
The nurse frowned. ‘Apart from the fact that there are excellent rehab facilities in London, there is the small matter of the fact that Mr Frobisher doesn’t seem to know how to interact with his son.’
‘Oh?’
‘Harry was in ITU for a week with a GCS score of three. During that time Mr Frobisher, perfectly understandably, refused to leave his son’s bedside. But instead of talking to Harry, as we suggested, Mr Frobisher mostly spent his time working on his laptop. Furthermore, I gather he caused the nurses some problems with his demands.’ She sighed. ‘He insisted on bringing in specialists of his own to assess his son. In fact, he had all sorts of demands. Some of them reasonable. Some less so.’
Colleen hid a smile. She had no doubt that Daniel hadn’t been the easiest relative to have around. But what Sister Lipton said about Daniel not interacting with Harry was more of a worry. Nursing staff could only do so much; the rest was up to the patient and their loved ones.
‘Mr Frobisher tried the same sort of thing when we moved Harry here once the lad was stable,’ Sister Lipton continued. ‘I’m afraid he and I clashed more than once. In many ways I won’t be sorry to see the back of him.’
‘But you don’t think he should have Harry at home? I can assure you that I’ve worked with patients like Harry for many years and Mr Frobisher is fully committed to ensuring that Harry receives as good quality care at home as he does here.’
‘That may be,’ Sister Lipton said. ‘But it’s Harry’s attitude to his father that worries me. When Harry first regained consciousness he was very agitated. As you know, we see that a great deal with patients like Harry, but it didn’t take long for us to notice that it was his father’s presence that seemed to distress the boy. We asked Mr Frobisher not to spend so much time on the ward. He wasn’t happy, as you can imagine, but even he could see he wasn’t helping matters. And as we expected, Harry was—and is—much calmer when his father isn’t around.’
Colleen decided to let that pass for the moment. She would make up her own mind. As it stood, Daniel was all the family Harry had left. No one should be keeping the pair apart. Besides, she was getting irritated with Sister Lipton’s assumption that she knew best. It had been the same when Cahil had been in hospital. No one had wanted Mammy to take him home, but nothing could stop her mother when her mind was made up. It was one of the ways they were exactly alike. And taking Cahil home, surrounding him with the people who loved him most, had been the right thing to do.
‘What can you tell me about Harry’s treatment and progress to date?’ she asked.
Sister Lipton took her through a detailed summary of Harry’s medical treatment. ‘As far as we can tell, there is no reason why Harry shouldn’t make a good recovery over time. There appears to be no lasting damage to his brain. In fact, we’re a little surprised that he hasn’t progressed quicker. He seems to understand simple instructions, but we’d really be expecting him to be saying more than the odd word by now. He also has some movement, but not as much as we would expect at this stage.’
‘We both know that patients even with apparently identical injuries can progress at different rates. No brain injury is exactly the same,’ Colleen said. ‘I’ve seen many cases, as I’m sure you have, where recovery is sudden and dramatic. Perhaps this will be the pattern for Harry?’
No doubt Sister Lipton was an excellent nurse but the way she had spoken about Daniel had made Colleen’s blood boil. Just like patients, relatives were different when it came to how they dealt with their loved ones’ injuries. Perhaps Lipton was the kind of nurse who expected the relatives to treat her with deference. Frankly Colleen preferred the relatives who made it their business to be involved with their child’s care. And despite Daniel’s high-handedness, she was sure he only wanted the best for his child.
* * *
When Colleen had finished speaking to Sister Lipton, she went along to see Harry.
With the blinds drawn, she could barely make out the frail figure lying on the bed in a tangle of sheets. An older woman in a nurse’s uniform was checking Harry’s blood pressure while Daniel stood looking out of the window.
Careful not to make any sudden noise, Colleen approached the young boy and her heart constricted. Even in sleep, Harry’s forehead was creased in a frown. His legs and arms twitched, as if he was being chased by the hounds of hell. Poor mite.
As if sensing her presence, Harry’s eyes slowly opened and stared right at her. His eyes were the same startling green as his father’s, but where Daniel’s were sharp and focused, Harry’s were clouded with confusion.
‘Hi, Harry,’ Colleen said softly, ‘My name is Colleen. I’m a nurse and I look after people who have hurt their heads.’
Harry’s eyes shifted from Colleen to Daniel and back again.
Keeping her voice as soothing as possible, Colleen continued. ‘May I sit down on your bed, Harry? That’s great. There’s no need to be scared, I’m here because your dad asked me to come and meet you. He loves you very much.’
Mutely, Harry continued to stare at her.
‘Harry, I want to hold your hands—is that okay?’ She slipped her fingers round his. They felt stiff and cold. ‘That’s excellent, Harry. Now squeeze as tight as you can, sweetheart. Squeeze as if I’ve just pinched your MP3 player and all your favourite tunes.’
The minutes passed and still Harry continued to stare at her. Colleen willed him with every fibre of her being to respond. Please, Harry, come on, you can do it, darling. Squeeze, squeeze.
She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath until she felt the slightest of pressure from Harry’s fingers. His eyes locked on hers, only for a moment, but long enough for her to see the fear in his eyes. She held the boy’s hand until he relaxed and the fear gradually receded. She already knew there was no way she could walk away from this child.
‘That’s excellent, Harry. Well done. We’re going to be great pals, I just know it. In a few days we’re going to take you home with us.’
Harry’s eyes shifted until he was looking over Colleen’s shoulders. She was aware that Daniel had come to stand behind her.
‘Go!’ Harry said clearly.
‘What is it, Harry? Do you want me to go?’ Colleen asked.
With an enormous effort Harry raised his hand until he was pointing at Daniel. It was obvious that he wanted his father to leave the room.
Colleen turned around. Daniel looked shaken. ‘Why don’t you wait for us outside?’ she said.
Daniel hesitated. ‘Go on,’ Colleen said. ‘I’ll only be a moment.’
When Daniel left she turned to face Harry again.
‘What is it, Harry? Don’t you want to go home and be with your father? I’ll be there, too.’
Harry looked at her. A tear slipped from his eye and Colleen brushed it away.
‘Mum,’ he said. ‘Want Mum.’
‘Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry your mum isn’t here. But your dad wants you at home with him. Together we’re going to do everything we can to make you better. You can speak a little now, so there’s no reason your speech won’t come on. And you can move your arm, so with a bit of work we should be able to get much more movement back. It’ll mean hard work, but your dad and I will be there
to help you every step of the way. C’mon, what do you say? Shall we give it a go?’
Green eyes studied her for a moment. ‘‘kay,’ Harry said finally, before turning away and closing his eyes.
Outside Daniel was pacing up and down, looking as if he wanted to find something to kick.
‘Maybe he should stay here,’ he said. ‘He clearly doesn’t feel comfortable with me.’ It was the first time Colleen had seen Daniel look anything less than certain and her heart went out to him.
‘The brain injury could be causing confusion, or it could be that he simply doesn’t recognise you. Patients with head injuries often suffer from memory loss on and off for quite some time. When we get him home and he has his familiar belongings around him, I’m sure he’ll settle down.’
A look of relief crossed Daniel’s face. ‘You said “we”. Does that mean you’ll take the job?’
‘It does. I think I can help.’
Daniel pulled a hand through his hair and studied her. It was a few minutes before he spoke. ‘At least I got one thing right. I found you. Thank you for agreeing to stay. Harry needs you.’
And something tells me you do, too, boyo.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘let’s make plans to get your son home.’
CHAPTER FOUR
COLLEEN had flown home later that day on Daniel’s plane. Moving to London for what could be months necessitated more than the few belongings she’d packed. And if Harry was to be discharged on Tuesday she needed to be back in London tomorrow evening at the latest. Daniel had offered to send someone to her flat to pack her things for her, but she’d refused. No one was going to trawl through her cupboards except her. After she’d packed and cleared out her fridge, she had phoned Ciaran to let him know what she’d decided. He’d been disappointingly blasé about the fact he wouldn’t see her for a few weeks.
