Losing himself in her kiss.
CHAPTER NINE
‘IT MIGHT sting a little bit…’ Annie tried to be gentle as she cleaned up the teenage boy’s hands, not that he seemed to care particularly. He just stared up at the ceiling as she had when it had been her turn, only, unlike her, he didn’t try to make conversation. ‘Can you tell me what happened, Mark?’
‘Answer the question, Mark!’ Mr Taylor, his father, barked.
‘I’ve already told you—I fell.’
Right. And he’d bounced so hard when he’d hit the ground he’d then landed on the other side of his body and managed to catch his knuckles on his teeth in the process.
‘Afternoon!’ Iosef introduced himself to Mark and his parents before running a cursory eye over the casualty card and the more obvious wounds, and then addressed his patient.
‘It says here that you fell.’
‘I did.’
‘Of course he didn’t fall,’ snapped Mr Taylor, but for the moment Iosef ignored him.
‘I am going to examine you if that’s OK, Mark.’ He turned to the parents. ‘Could I ask you to step outside?’
‘We’d rather stay here.’ Mrs Taylor gave a tight smile. ‘We’d like to see what’s going on for ourselves.’
‘At fifteen years old, it may be uncomfortable for Mark to have his parents present while he is examined.’
‘At fifteen years old,’ Mr Taylor responded tersely, ‘he’s still legally a child and we’d rather stay.’
‘OK.’ Surprisingly for Iosef he didn’t argue the point and Annie frowned just a touch as he pulled on a pair of gloves and performed a comprehensive examination. He did his best to keep Mark covered as he probed his chest and abdomen then rolled him over and checked some rather large bruises on his back, performed a neurological examination then carefully checked a nasty laceration on his scalp.
‘This will need suturing,’ Iosef said, though more to himself, then spoke to his patient. ‘Is there anywhere I haven’t examined that you’re hurting, anything else that happened when you fell?’
‘He didn’t fall,’ Mr Taylor snarled. ‘So can we all stop playing along with his lies? We want to know what’s going on with him. Today isn’t the first problem we’ve had. He’s hardly ever at school, has been coming home at all hours and when he is home is shut in his room. Heaven only knows what he’s on, whether it’s drugs or alcohol—’
‘OK,’ Iosef interrupted. ‘Clearly there are things that need to be discussed so could I now ask again that you excuse us so that I can talk to your son?’
‘And I’m telling you again that we want to hear what he has to say!’ Mr Taylor barked. ‘You haven’t even asked him if he’s taken anything.’
‘Mark.’ Iosef turned briefly to his patient. ‘Have you taken anything?’
‘No.’
‘That’s not asking him.’ Mr Taylor’s face was twisted with rage and Annie watched as Mark just closed his eyes. ‘As if he’s going to just admit it!’
‘So what do you suggest I do?’ Iosef asked.
‘We have to get to the bottom of this,’ Mrs Taylor said.
‘I agree—but I don’t think is likely to happen with you in the room,’ Iosef answered, and his voice was still calm and easy. ‘I think there is more chance of Mark talking to me without you present.’
‘Well, if we do leave we want to know everything that’s said. Legally you can’t—’
‘Annie…’ Iosef spoke over Mr Taylor. ‘Are there any beds in the obs ward?’
She shook her head. ‘Not for a couple of hours. Hopefully the tendon repair will be leaving around six.’
‘Do you know if there are beds on the children’s ward?’
‘I’ll check,’ Annie answered. Mark was at that difficult age where he really couldn’t be crammed in beside a three-year-old.
‘Thanks.’ He turned to Mr and Mrs Taylor. ‘He needs to be sutured, and given you are concerned there may be drugs or alcohol involved, and also that he has some renal tenderness, I’d like your son to be admitted overnight for observation. Annie, could we also check his urine for any blood, please?’
‘And drugs!’ Mr Taylor demanded, at which Iosef gave an ironic smile and spoke to Annie.
‘Forget the obs ward—I’ll go and ring the paediatricians.’
‘That’s it.’ Mr Taylor was incensed as Iosef turned to leave.
‘The paediatricians will discuss your son’s care with you and whether to do a drug screen—and naturally a social worker will—’
‘You’re just going to leave! We just said he could talk to you.’
‘Mr Taylor.’ Still his voice was calm, yet somehow it overrode the angry one. ‘I have worked with many teenagers and I have dealt with many who are in serious trouble. Confidentiality is a very difficult area. Now, I absolutely agree with your concerns about your son’s welfare and I understand that there are things you, no doubt, want and need to know. Your son presents to me as a young man who is in trouble, a young man, who like many, cannot, for whatever reason, talk openly with his parents. Me talking to Mark alone and having then to relay everything to you is, I believe, a pointless exercise. My speciality is emergency medicine—the paediatricians and the child psychologist are far more qualified to deal with family matters.’ He glanced at the casualty card. ‘In a few weeks your son will be old enough and hopefully well enough to get the confidential advice and care he needs.’
And even if he was out of the cubicle now, he wasn’t washing his hands of the matter. In fact, by having Mark admitted to the paediatric ward as opposed to Obs, he was actually offering the family more care, only some how it didn’t feel like it. He was so direct, so absolutely open in what he was saying and respectful to Mark that everyone present knew that even if he had to keep it short and sweet, the care they could get from this doctor would probably be the best start for them all.
‘Can you see where we’re coming from?’ Mr Taylor asked. ‘We want to help him and unless we know what’s going on, we can’t. How do we know that you’ll say the right thing?’
‘You don’t.’ Iosef didn’t even blink. ‘Though, given my job, given that I am used to dealing with this age group and the problems they face, you can feel fairly safe that I won’t make things worse.
‘Let me at least try to talk with your son. Unless someone does that—unless he opens up to someone—then there can be nothing to tell.’ For the longest time he looked at Mr Taylor. ‘I understand that I am asking you to sign a contract without reading it. I am asking you to trust me with the most precious thing in your life—with not much guarantee. We can discuss legalities for longer than anyone has time for but right now I believe it is in everyone’s best interests to find out what is going on with your son.’
‘Talk to him, Mark.’ Mr Taylor gave a terse nod.
‘Annie.’ Iosef gave her a polite smile. ‘Could you show Mr and Mrs Taylor to an interview room, please?’
He was, of course, booting her out too, Annie realized, only it didn’t irk as it had before, and she didn’t feel as if she was being dismissed, was just curious as to what he would say to the young man, curious as to how he would relay it to the parents, but more than that she was curious that a man so aloof and so cutting at times could somehow be the most caring and perceptive of them all.
For all she knew of him, for all the time she spent with him, it was as if she’d merely scratched the surface there was layer after layer to this complicated man that she wanted to explore, yet at every turn he thwarted her.
Gave her all his attention when they were alone together but only a little piece of his mind.
There was no trouble with anyone picking up on them at work—no one could possibly have guessed there was anything between them.
He was just as cool with her.
Just as dismissive.
Though he did now call her Annie.
He more than made up for it when they saw each other—whisking her away for a romantic mid
week break, giving her a piece of jewellery that would surely have covered a year’s rent—somehow it wasn’t enough.
Wasn’t enough to ease the growing disquiet that gnawed away at her, that wouldn’t hush when she scolded herself that she was being greedy, wanting too much too soon.
Wanting pieces of Iosef that he didn’t seem ready or willing to give.
It was a funny shift—lots of lulls and no one particularly critical.
George was flicking through holiday brochures and Annie sat nibbling on a bar of chocolate, waiting for the place to get busy.
‘Tell me if the boss comes.’ George looked up. ‘He wouldn’t be too impressed with me sitting here, looking at these.’
‘Iosef wouldn’t care about that and anyway…’ Annie gave a dismissive shrug ‘…I’m over pretending to look busy. We work more than hard enough when it’s needed.’
‘You don’t know him,’ George said, and Annie could only inwardly agree. ‘He tells me I should be doing things, that there’s plenty to do, then as soon as I go to do it he’s already there. He’s got no patience—his way is best.’
‘I think he’s just used to working on his own,’ Annie attempted.
‘Well, this is a teaching hospital. Take that kid he’s talking to now. Why couldn’t I have dealt with that?’
‘That one’s actually a bit complicated.’ Annie nibbled on her bottom lip. ‘It’s turned out to be more serious than it looks.’
‘I know that,’ George moaned. ‘I spoke to the dad when the kid was first brought in, I said I’d talk to his son and find out what was going on. Then Dr Control Freak marches in and decides it’s more appropriate if someone more senior deals with this patient and family.’
She could see both sides—she truly could.
George wanted experience.
Iosef could do it better.
But George couldn’t get the experience if Iosef didn’t let him make a few mistakes.
But these were people’s lives they were dealing with.
‘You just wait…’ There was no stopping George now as he angrily turned the pages. ‘I’ll be called into his office for a lecture tomorrow so I can see hear how mar vellously he handled things. I may as well be home, reading a medical textbook!’
‘George!’ A curt voice had them both jumping. ‘Haven’t you got something better to do than read holiday brochures?’
‘Oh, sorry!’ George attempted sarcasm. ‘I forgot to do the dishes in the staffroom.’
‘What are you smiling at?’ Iosef asked Annie as George marched off.
‘Him.’ She shrugged. ‘You.’
‘He’s annoyed because I didn’t let him talk to Mark or his family.’
‘To any family,’ Annie pointed out, and she was actually talking to him as she would any colleague. ‘Or to too many patients either—well, not the really sick ones.’
‘I make those decisions.’
‘I know you do.’ Annie smiled. ‘I just deal with the fallout.’
‘Now, if you’ve finished your chocolate break, could you come with me, please, to speak to the family? I want the nursing staff to know what’s going on—and I really have to go soon.’
As they headed for the interview room, he changed his mind, did a quick about-turn and tapped on the staffroom door and asked George to come with them.
The tense, angry people Annie had left in there were now just two weary, utterly terrified parents waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.
‘I have spoken at length with your son.’ Iosef sat down and went straight to a rather surprising point. ‘He has, in fact, agreed that I tell you all that was said—which makes things a lot easier for everyone. Now, there is some news that will not be good and there is some news that is probably not as bad as you fear.’
‘And he’s really OK with you talking to us?’ Mr Taylor blinked. ‘How on earth did you get him to agree to that?’
‘I told your son he had many choices—he could ignore the help or he could get everything out in the open now and once everyone has calmed down, you deal with it all together. The reason I wanted to treat your son, I have worked with many, many trouble teenagers—in an orphanage in Russia.’ Annie’s gaze flicked to George who sort of gave a half-smile. ‘But,’ Iosef continued, ‘as experienced as I am with this age group and the troubles that they get themselves into, dealing with the family unit is somewhat uncharted waters for me. As I explained to him, more often than not I did not have the luxury of children with parents who were cross or did not understand—because there were no parents—so I hope that by telling him he should try to trust that you will prove me right.’ He sort of eyeballed them till they nodded.
‘Apparently there are parent-teacher interviews in two weeks’ time. You are going to find out that your son has fallen very behind with his maths homework and he has, in fact, intercepted two letters from the school.’
‘But he’s good at maths.’ Mr Taylor shook his head as his wife put her hand on his arm to silence him. ‘Go on.’
‘Because he was worried what the teacher would say, he has been avoiding lessons and spending his time at the park—and he recently started smoking marijuana.’ Their faces were as white as chalk as the news sank in, then they finally nodded and Annie could actually see them brace themselves for whatever was coming next. ‘This morning he owed some children some money. Though he didn’t want to go to the park, he couldn’t go to school either.’
‘And he couldn’t tell us…’ Mrs Taylor was crying now.
‘So, when he didn’t have the money, he got a beating.’
‘What else?’ Mr Taylor asked. ‘What else is he taking?’
‘I think he may have had some beer, but that is it.’
‘No other drugs.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Iosef stared at them for a long time, his face growing more serious as their relief started to show. ‘Marijuana can lead to depression. It is also linked with schizophrenia, and it is not something to be relaxed about.’
‘Of course not,’ Mr Taylor said. ‘But we honestly thought—well, I don’t know what we thought.’
‘I would say that the best thing that happened to your son and to your family was that he got beaten up and ended up in here today. The stress of this parent-teacher interview coming up has been huge for him and he has dealt with it by self-medicating and lying and getting himself in deeper at every turn.’
‘He could have just spoken to us,’ Mrs Taylor cried again. ‘Come and told us what was going on, right at the start. We could have got him a tutor….’
‘He felt he couldn’t talk to you.’
‘But if he’d just come to us…’
‘He felt he couldn’t.’ Iosef said again. ‘That is how he felt. Now, my concern is that this will quickly be sorted out. He will be admitted and perhaps followed up with a counsellor. You in turn will deal with the school and after a few difficult weeks things will seem much better. However, when something goes wrong in his life again—which, naturally, it will—I would expect that this is how he will deal with it. Unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘You work together and you all get proper help to open the lines of communication and work to keep them open. This will hopefully be addressed on the children’s ward, but I cannot recommend strongly enough that you get family counseling. More than that, make sure you see someone good and then listen to what they say.’
‘Can you recommend anyone?’ Mr Taylor asked. ‘We’re happy to go privately.’
‘Actually, I can recommend someone I think would be good for Mark.’ He turned to Annie and pulled out his keys. ‘Can you get my jacket and wallet from the office? I have a business card. I know this man from university and I often rang him for advice when I was in Russia. He is pretty direct, though.’
‘Seems like we need it.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up over this,’ Annie heard Iosef say as she slipped out, and as she walked through the department and glanced up
at a clock that showed Iosef should have been home hours ago, she was really glad that he’d stayed. Emergency contained such an eclectic mix of patients and problems and even though Mark’s problem didn’t seem that serious, to Iosef it had been. He had been treated just as thoroughly as a critically injured patient. Unlocking his office and stepping inside, Annie concluded Iosef may not have saved a life tonight but he’d certainly given someone a very good chance of turning theirs around.
And with a little nudge from Annie he’d taught George an awful lot, too.
His office was in darkness, but his computer provided enough light for Annie not to turn the overhead one on. She just waltzed over and picked up his jacket.
One file lay on his desk. Mickey Baker’s.
The meanie still had his notes—he had just been taunting her with them. A smile on her face, she started to go and jumped slightly as the mobile phone on his desk lit up and vibrated into life.
She wasn’t snooping but she felt like an intruder, especially when she read the name that popped onto the screen of his phone. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she headed for the door.
Candy.
‘Thanks.’ He was back at the nurses’ station, and glanced up as she handed him his jacket and keys and he fished out his wallet. ‘Could you give them this card for me? I can’t risk getting caught up again—I’m already running terribly late.’
‘For what?’
Would she have asked anyone else that question? Annie wondered as she swore she saw his jaw tighten a fraction. Was that bringing things to work, or just two colleagues talking? She honestly didn’t know.
‘Just late getting off—I should have been out of here two hours ago. I’d better go.’
‘You left your computer on in your office,’ Annie reminded him. ‘And your phone.’
‘Thanks.’ He checked that no one was around and for the first time at work he spoke to her intimately. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘I’ll give you a call a bit later when your shift’s finished—maybe I can drop by…’
‘I’m really tired, actually.’
Billionaire Doctor, Ordinary Nurse Page 9
