The Perfect Christmas

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘And afterwards I’ll feel much better much quicker, is that right?’

  ‘That’s right. You won’t feel nearly the amount of pain you would with a conventional open operation, and your recovery will be much, much quicker. You should be home in a couple of days if all goes according to plan.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t?’

  Julia perched on the side of the bed. ‘In the unlikely event that he wants a closer look or it’s worse than he’d thought, you’ll have the conventional operation and you’ll be in hospital a week or so longer—but don’t bank on having a holiday at our expense,’ she added with a reassuring smile. ‘I gather he’s very good.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ a deep voice said from behind her, and she turned quickly, her hand flying up to her chest.

  ‘You gave me such a fright,’ she said with a laugh, and stood up. ‘I was just assuring Mrs James that the likelihood of her staying here longer than a couple of days more is slight.’

  David nodded, the warmth in his eyes changing to professional concern and greeting as he turned to Mrs James and smiled at her.

  ‘Morning. How’s my patient?’

  ‘Still very sore, but much better, thank you, Doctor.’

  ‘Good. Well, hopefully by tonight you’ll be much more comfortable. I’m planning to do you first, so you’ll get a head start post-op and you won’t have to hang around now. OK? And I’ll come and see you later.’

  He turned and gave Julia his professional smile. ‘I wonder if we might have a word?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Julia walked up the ward with him, wondering what he wanted, but he didn’t keep her in suspense long. ‘I’ve got a problem,’ he told her quietly. ‘The plumber’s starting this week, and when we’re on take I need to be nearer than I am at my parents’. Is there a room I can use if I reach a critical stage and the water’s cut off?’

  ‘Sure, there’s a room on the ward and another in the doctors’ residence,’ she said, simultaneously relieved and disappointed that his question was so mundane. She had hoped for some reference to their weekend.

  ‘Unless, of course, you want to put me up for the odd night?’

  Her eyes widened, but then she caught the teasing glint in his and pursed her lips. ‘You’re dreaming again,’ she told him, and he gave a silent huff of laughter.

  ‘No comment,’ he said in low voice, and there was a hint of something in there that made her wonder if he, too, was being plagued by sleepless nights and wild dreams.

  ‘You need to make sure your SHO isn’t using the room on the night you need it,’ she reminded him, refusing to let her mind be sidetracked.

  ‘No. He probably wouldn’t appreciate having to sleep with me,’ he said with a chuckle, and Julia caught herself just before she said something stupid that would give her clean away.

  ‘Anything else?’ she said brightly to cover her almost-lapse, but he shook his head.

  ‘No, nothing, just the information about the room.’

  ‘While I think about it,’ she said, remembering her drive to work that morning, ‘thank you so much for getting my car fixed last week. That part must have been going wrong for ages, you know, because it’s running like a charm. I don’t think it’s ever run as sweetly as it is now. I thought it needed servicing really badly, but it must have just been that one bit, which is a real relief because just now I don’t have the money to pay for a major service.’

  Something flickered in his eyes and was gone. ‘Good,’ he said heartily. ‘I’m glad it’s done the trick.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Lord, is that the time? I’d better get up to Theatre. I’ll see you later.’ He paused for a second, then shook his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I was going to suggest lunch, but I doubt if I’ll be finished in Theatre before two, and you go at three. Never mind. We’ll do it another time.’

  She agreed without thinking, and then as he walked away she shook her head slowly. Supper here, lunch there, then a real date, then—wham! Involvement.

  Unless she kept it all very neutral and didn’t let him close to her. She could enjoy his company, couldn’t she? Just go out with him from time to time if he asked her, nothing heavy, no commitment, just two friends.

  Then she remembered the kisses…

  Mrs James had her keyhole surgery as planned, and went home on Wednesday morning, delighted to be feeling so much better and clutching her jar of gallstones as a trophy.

  ‘I’ll put them on the mantelpiece when the in-laws come,’ she said mischievously, and Julia chuckled.

  ‘Highly ornamental. Or you could make a candle and suspend them in it like those pretty ones with leaves and things all round the sides, and use it for a table centrepiece on Christmas Day!’

  ‘It might put the others off, but at least I’ll get to enjoy lunch,’ she said with a grin. ‘Better out than in.’ Her smile faded, and she took Julia’s hand in both of hers. ‘Thank you so much for all you’ve done. I know that to you it was just a simple operation, but to go from what I felt like on Friday morning to how I feel now is nothing short of a miracle for me, and I’m really, really grateful. Thank you.’

  She leant forwards and kissed Julia’s cheek, hugging her slightly before letting go and laughing a little breathlessly. ‘Oh, dear, I’m going to cry in a minute,’ she said, and blinked away a sheen of tears.

  Julia waved her off, sorry to see her go. She’d been uncomplaining and cheerful, unlike some of the others. Old Mrs Bailey was groaning at the moment, but Julia knew the moment her visitors arrived she’d be sitting up in bed as perky as a parrot.

  ‘My dear, this sheet’s creased again,’ Mrs Bailey said petulantly as Julia paused beside her. ‘It’s really most uncomfortable. It’s the mattress, I’m sure. Couldn’t you find me a better one?’

  ‘It’s the plastic covers,’ Julia explained. ‘The sheets slide around on them. I’m sorry, they’re all the same. Let me straighten the sheet for you.’

  She whisked the curtains round the bed, turned back the covers and straightened the offending sheet with a swift tug, tucking it firmly back under the mattress. ‘Better?’ she asked, and Mrs Bailey nodded grudgingly.

  ‘I shall be glad to get home to my own bed,’ she said, and Julia could sympathise with that. There was nothing like your own bed, and a plastic-covered mattress in a public ward was certainly nothing like it.

  She looked at her patient more closely, and saw the weary lines around her eyes. ‘Are you sleeping all right?’ she asked, and the woman shook her head.

  ‘No. Of course not. They all cough and fidget and call out, and, besides, I can’t get comfortable because I’m in pain.’

  Julia could well believe it. She’d had a very tricky resection of her stomach and duodenum following years of supposed indigestion that had turned out to be chronic ulceration and inflammation, and her postop recovery had been slower than expected. Despite Mrs Bailey’s difficult nature, she felt her sympathy aroused. Her sympathy, and her instinct.

  ‘I’ll get Mr Armstrong to look at you when he’s next on the ward—perhaps he can write you up for something that will make you feel better,’ she said gently.

  Mrs Bailey sank back against the pillows and closed her eyes. ‘Oh, I hope so. I really am very tired of it, and it does seem to be getting worse.’

  Julia wondered if the cheerful act with the visitors was just that, an act, and if Mrs Bailey really was suffering more than she was letting on. She paged David, and asked him to call in on the ward when he was passing.

  ‘I was just on my way up anyway,’ he said. ‘I wanted to check something in some notes before my next case. I’ll see you in a minute.’

  He appeared shortly, looking somehow even more appealing than ever in blue scrubs, and he smiled that smile and nearly dissolved her bones.

  ‘Right, what’s the matter?’ he asked, and she told him that she felt Mrs Bailey wasn’t progressing and just looked a bit off colour.

 
‘I don’t know, it’s probably nothing, but my instincts tell me things aren’t right. Her bowel sounds haven’t come back yet, and she’s looking peaky. I don’t know—she’s just not getting better fast enough.’

  He nodded. ‘OK. I’ll buy that. I’m a great believer in instinct, especially coming from an experienced professional like you.’

  It wasn’t flattery, it was delivered as a statement of fact, and it made her glow all over.

  He went with her and looked at Mrs Bailey, examining her carefully and checking her charts. Because he’d taken over from her consultant when he’d left, he hadn’t performed the operation, but she was now in his care and he was clearly going to take Julia seriously.

  ‘I think I’d like a scan of that,’ he said. ‘I wonder if there’s a little abscess forming? We’ll do some blood tests as well. If you’ve got an infection brewing you will be feeling rough. Sister Revell, perhaps we could discuss the tests I’d like done?’

  David led Julia up the ward, his fingers rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘I don’t like the look of her,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you’re right, there’s something going on in there—I reckon I’m going to have to open her up again. Let’s not jump the gun, though. I’d like a thorough look through her notes before I commit myself, and an MRI scan and the bloods. Can you sort that out for me? I’m on call overnight, so I’ll be here. If necessary we can take her up to Theatre this evening.’

  ‘I’ll get it all organised now—the results should be back by late this afternoon if you’re lucky.’

  ‘You mean if I lean hard on the lab?’

  She smiled. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind. What are you doing at lunchtime?’

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Chivvying the lab for you?’

  ‘Wrong. Having lunch with me before I start my afternoon list. Got time?’

  She thought of her resolve to keep him out of her daughter’s life, but lunch was hardly a threat to Katie’s stability and, besides, she had to eat.

  ‘I’ll make time,’ she promised, and the warm glow in his eyes filled her with anticipation. Good grief, she thought, we’re only talking about lunch here, but her heart was singing for the rest of the morning.

  She met him in the larger of the two canteens, but before they could get their meal his pager bleeped. He scanned the message, rolled his eyes and dropped it back in his pocket. ‘No peace for the wicked. I have to go to A and E. I’m sorry.’

  ‘David?’

  He paused in the act of turning away. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Tonight,’ she said, without allowing herself to think. ‘What are you doing all evening, if you aren’t needed?’

  He shrugged. ‘Just hanging around.’

  ‘Want to hang around at my place? I could give you supper—if you want to. It’s only five minutes from the hospital in the evening.’

  His eyes softened and he smiled slightly. ‘Thank you,’ he said in a low voice. ‘That would be wonderful. What time?’

  She laughed. ‘You’re on take. Whenever you can get away. I’ll do a casserole and feed you when you get there. Any time after seven-thirty.’

  ‘After Katie’s in bed.’

  She refused to feel guilty about that. ‘Yes,’ she confirmed, and he nodded, his smile wry.

  ‘OK. After seven-thirty it is.’

  In fact it was nearer nine, because he had three cases tacked onto the end of his afternoon list and he had only just finished them, he explained when he arrived.

  ‘You look bushed,’ she told him, and he grinned tiredly.

  ‘There’s a surprise. I’m also starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.’

  ‘Good. Come on through.’

  He followed her down to the kitchen, shedding his coat onto the back of a chair on the way, and then stood behind her, his arms round her waist and his head on her shoulder while she dished up.

  ‘Smells good. You do, too,’ he murmured, and she felt shivers run down her spine.

  ‘You smell of hibitane,’ she told him bluntly, and he chuckled and let her go, moving away to give her room to move.

  Perversely she didn’t want that much room, but she could hardly tell him she found the smell of hibitane curiously exciting and would he come back, please, and hold her again!

  Julia handed him a plate groaning with mashed potatoes and a steaming chicken casserole, and scooped up her plate and cutlery. ‘In here, or in the sitting room on your knees?’ she asked.

  Arthur was sleeping peacefully in his sling on the radiator, and David looked bushed. ‘Sitting room?’ she said, making the decision for him, and he nodded.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Then I don’t have to move after I finish.’

  He didn’t. Not only did he not move, he fell asleep within minutes, and she took the plate carefully off his lap and let him sleep. She probably could have felt offended, but he’d been working hard and who knew what the night might hold?

  In fact, he only dozed for a few minutes, then he woke and stretched and smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said softly, and she felt a well of tenderness inside her.

  ‘Don’t be, you needed it. Coffee?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Don’t move. Just come here.’

  So she went to him, and sat beside him on the sofa, her head on his chest and his arm around her, and he sighed with contentment and pressed his lips to her hair. ‘This is nice,’ he murmured, and she had to agree. It was something she could grow very used to, and if she could only summon up the resolve, she’d fight it.

  But she couldn’t, so she didn’t, and they sat there for over an hour before his bleep squawked and he had to return to the hospital.

  ‘All good things come to an end,’ he said as he shrugged into his coat. ‘Thank you for this evening.’

  ‘My pleasure. Shall I wake you in the morning?’

  David laughed. ‘If by a miracle I should happen to be asleep. Tea would be nice.’

  ‘Don’t push your luck.’

  He kissed her, a tender, lingering kiss that held a wealth of promise, and Julia closed the door behind him and went back into the sitting room, watching him cross the road and drive away with a wave of his hand and a flash of headlights.

  The house felt extraordinarily empty without him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JULIA tapped gently on the door of the duty room and opened it a crack. It was quiet, the silence broken only by the soft sound of David’s breathing. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, setting the tea down on his bedside table and perching on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ she said softly, and he blinked and yawned and grinned sheepishly.

  ‘Hi. Sorry. I meant to be up. What time is it?’

  ‘Ten to seven. I managed to get Katie up a little earlier today. She was excited because they’re casting the nativity play today and she wants to be Mary, so she couldn’t wait to get to school. How was your night?’

  He groaned. ‘Grim, and I have to go back to Theatre now with Mrs Bailey, but there’s a problem. We’re a scrub nurse short. I don’t suppose you can lay your hands on anyone with Theatre experience who could do it, do you?’

  She thought rapidly. Sally Kennedy was on with her that morning, and while she was quite capable of running the ward, she hadn’t worked in Theatre for years. Whereas Julia herself…

  ‘I could do it,’ she offered. ‘If it’s only the one case.’

  ‘It is. Would you?’

  She thought of standing hip to hip with David, watching him work, and a little bubble of anticipation rose in her chest. ‘Sure,’ she said, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘When?’

  ‘Soon as you like. I think she’s prepped.’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen Angie yet. I’d better go and check it’s OK before you get excited.’

  ‘Good idea. Is that a cup of tea for me?’ he asked hopefully, peering at the bedside table, and she nodded. ‘Great.’ And
without hesitation he lifted himself up on one elbow, reached his arm out of the sheets and picked up the cup, giving her a tantalising display of his bare chest and shoulders.

  Oh, lord. Her heart backed up into her throat, her blood pressure rocketed and if anyone had asked her, she probably couldn’t have remembered her name.

  ‘I’ll go and see Angie,’ she mumbled, and headed for sanity.

  Not for long, though. Sally appeared and confirmed that she was happy to run the ward for an hour or so, and then David emerged from his room fully dressed a few minutes after she’d woken him and filled her in with the results of the scan.

  ‘It looks like a piece of the stomach wall has died following the resection—maybe the blood vessels were disrupted by the operation and a bit was left without adequate supply. Whatever, we need to open her up and find out, or she’ll just continue to deteriorate. She’s been on antibiotics since last night, and hopefully it should be straightforward.’

  ‘Hopefully,’ Julia commented, eyeing his shoulders in the crisp white shirt and trying not to remember what they’d looked like just a short while ago, the bare skin sleek and warm and tempting. Too tempting. They looked good enough in the shirt to test the resolve of a nun. Anything less was just downright unfair. She forced herself to concentrate on Mrs Bailey.

  ‘Have you explained to her?’ she asked, and he nodded.

  ‘She’s not surprised. She said she’s been feeling worse and worse for the past three days or so.’

  ‘Why didn’t she say anything? She just got grumpy with the staff, and all the time she must have been feeling dreadful. Maybe she just didn’t register how serious it might have been—perhaps she thought it was just part of the recovery process, like itching of the wound and that kind of thing.’

  ‘Who knows? Anyway, I’m going up to Theatre. Want me to send someone down for her now?’

  ‘You could. I’ll have a chat to her and come and scrub.’

  And so she went and told Mrs Bailey she was assisting in the operation, and the elderly woman took her hand and squeezed it and said she was glad.