‘She was a fitness instructor.’ Cole shrugged. ‘A personal trainer. She ran a business from home—hence the lap pool, hence the massive blender in the kitchen so Heather could whip up her fruit smoothies. So, you see, I can talk about her. And if I’m afraid of anything it’s coming home and finding you face down in the pool because you developed chest pain and couldn’t get to the edge in time, which is actually quite a valid concern given what you’ve been through.’ Pulling a rug from the sofa, he wrapped it around her. ‘That and catching your death of cold, of course.’
Sitting down on the edge of the sofa, Leah ran a slightly trembling hand through her damp hair, turning her chlorine-shot eyes to his. ‘I’m not a doll, Cole. I’m not some fragile porcelain doll that’s going to shatter.’
The fight seemed to go out of him then. Slowly he replaced the newspaper on the coffee-table but she didn’t look up. She could hear his ragged breathing, hear the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, but she didn’t say anything. It was up to Cole to make the next move.
‘I’m sorry,’ he started as Leah sat there unmoved. ‘I know I can be a bit overbearing…’
‘A bit?’
‘A lot,’ Cole admitted. ‘I just can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. I know you play it down but I was there, Leah. You nearly died that night…’
‘But I didn’t.’
He nodded, and then ran a weary hand across his chin. ‘They’re short-staffed in Emergency.’ He looked up as she blinked back at him. ‘They need some nurses. Why don’t I ask Fay, she’s the unit manager, if there’s a spot there for you? If you join the nursing bank you can do casual shifts in Emergency.’
When she didn’t answer he pressed right on. ‘Look I’ve told you over and over to stop worrying about money, Leah, but I can understand that you want to earn some of your own. I’m not that much of a chauvinist and apparently the money’s pretty good for casual staff. Perhaps more to the point, unlike working in a bar, there’s a no-lift policy in the department.’ He saw the confusion in her eyes and explained further. ‘The nurses don’t lift, they use slide mats or hoists so you wouldn’t strain yourself…’
She only half listened as he carried on, reeling off the practicalities, the merits of going back, and though it all made perfect sense, though he’d clearly thought this through, Leah felt fury well within her, shaken to the core at his callousness, outraged at his insensitivity. ‘I thought you understood.’ Chewing the skin around her nail, hurt, confused eyes dragged up to his. ‘I told you what happened to me, Cole. I thought you’d at least—’
‘You just said you didn’t want to be treated like a doll, Leah,’ Cole pointed out.
‘I don’t,’ Leah responded fiercely, ‘but that doesn’t mean I want to be thrown in at the deep end.’
‘As opposed to jumping in?’ Cole gestured to the pool outside. ‘That was reckless, Leah, but this makes sense.’
‘Not to me.’ Her voice caught in her throat. ‘I don’t think I’m ready, Cole ‘
He joined her on the sofa and she ached for him to pull her in, to wrap her in his arms and tell her she was right, that of course it was too soon. Instead, he sat there, letting out a long slow breath before finally he turned to face her.
‘I’ll be there for you,’ Cole said gently but firmly. ‘Do you want me to ask?’
Leah knew it was now or never and if she was going to go back to nursing now was surely the time. And perhaps more pointedly, she needed the money. Kara, for all her initial promises, hadn’t been exactly forthcoming in coughing up the rent and a couple of shifts in Emergency would earn more dollars than a week of working in a bar for minimum wages. She was more than qualified after all. Her résumé along with her references, were there with her passport and air ticket. She’d even got her Australian registration just in case the urge had taken her all of a sudden.
‘Leah?’ The question in his voice demanded an answer.
‘That would be great.’ She forced a watery smile. ‘Do you want me to follow up with a call this afternoon to the unit manager?’
‘It would probably be better if Fay rings you,’ Cole suggested, ‘when she’s got a quiet moment. Do you have a copy of your résumé I could give to her?’
Leah nodded. Heading upstairs, she pulled out her papers with shaking hands as Cole came into the bedroom behind her. ‘There’s my registration certificate as well and a couple of references.’
‘You won’t mind?’ Cole flicked through the first page of her résumé raising an approving eyebrow. ‘Working as an RN when you’re used to being in charge?’
‘I won’t mind a bit.’ Cole missed the dry note to her voice. ‘Give me a call when you’ve spoken to Fay.’
As he kissed her goodbye and made to go, Leah stalled at the last hurdle, desperate to grab her papers, to put an end to whatever they were starting. ‘Maybe we should think about this,’ Leah called to his departing back. ‘It might not work.’ She was tossing up excuses now, trying to form an escape route—anything rather than face going back. ‘I mean, living together and working together are two different things. What if there’s a problem at work, what if I do something wrong and you have to haul me out—?’
‘I don’t haul out my staff, as you so eloquently put it,’ Cole responded in a slightly superior tone as he came back over to her. ‘If there’s a problem I discuss it rationally and listen to both sides before making a decision.’
‘Silly me for thinking otherwise!’ Leah blinked, a smile twisting her strained lips as Cole even had the decency to look uncomfortable. ‘So it’s only at home you jackboot about?’
Her humour only lasted a moment. Screwing her eyes closed, she balled her fists against her temples, sucking in her breath as the roller-coaster ride started again.
‘You can do this, Leah.’ His hand found hers then. Hot and strong, he gripped her cold fingers all wrinkled from the pool and held them tight. ‘I’ll be right there beside you.’
You’ll always be guaranteed a job, people will always need nurses.
How many times had she heard that? Pulling into the staff car park Leah seemed to have taken for ever to find, she sat for a moment staring at the emergency department ahead of her—an ambulance pulling up in a bay, the hub of activity outside, people chatting into mobiles, grabbing a smoke or a coffee. Apart from the sun, apart from the sight of male nurses in shorts, she could just as well have been back in London. For days she’d pored over the local papers, ringing up café after café, bar after bar before landing a questionable offer of eight, maybe ten hours a week, whereas Cole had seemingly barely left the house before the nurse supervisor had called, inviting her to come in for an informal chat and tour of the department.
Nurses were always needed and add a trauma and ICU certificate to the equation and the world was your oyster.
She stepped out of the car and walked purposefully over to the unit, uncomfortable in her new uniform. Hardly a uniform really, Leah thought, looking down. Used to wearing a dress and belt for work, it felt strange to be dressed in culottes and a white polo shirt, her new name tag hanging round her neck.
‘Don’t lose it,’ Fay had warned, when she had taken Leah down to Security to get her photo taken. ‘And if you do, alert Security straight away so they can cancel it.’
Fay, the unit manager, was as nice as she had been at the interview, friendly and welcoming, but Leah knew from the short time they had spent together that nothing would get past those shrewd eyes of hers and she was grateful for that fact, glad to be just a number on her first day back.
‘Now, ideally I’d have liked to pair you up with someone,’ Fay chattered as she whizzed Leah through the department, ‘but with the staff shortages we really can’t manage it. Now, there’s no need to feel shy, half the staff on duty are either agency or bank and on their first shift here.’ Catching Leah’s wry grin, Fay stopped walking for a moment. ‘Does that sound familiar?’
‘Just a bit,’ Leah agreed. �
�It’s the same in England.’
‘It’s the same the world over, no doubt,’ Fay groaned. ‘At least you’ve actually worked in Emergency. You were a charge nurse there, weren’t you?’
Leah smiled as she nodded. ‘Don’t let that stop you telling me what to do.’
‘Good girl.’ Fay gave a grateful nod. ‘Now, at anyone time we’ve got two junior doctors on. They can see and advise treatment, but referral and discharge has to be done by either a registrar or a consultant, and at any given time we’ve got one in the department—or restroom or canteen,’ Fay added with a low laugh. Then suddenly she seemed to change her mind and looked over at Leah with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, I forgot. You’re Cole’s girlfriend, aren’t you?’
Fay’s reservation didn’t come as any surprise. Leah had actually been wondering how to address the fact she was living with Cole, unsure whether or not Cole was quite ready to go public. But it would seem Cole didn’t have a problem with the world and his wife realising they were actually an item.
‘Forget that, too.’ Leah grinned to Fay. ‘Like I said before, don’t let that little fact stop you telling me what to do.’
‘Good girl,’ Fay said again. ‘There’s no room for egos here. Well, now we’ve at least got that out of the way we can get down to business. I’ve put you down for cots—the paediatric area,’ she explained. ‘There are eight general beds comprising four cots and four trolleys. There’s a television and video as well and, believe me, by the time the shift’s over you’ll know every Wiggles’ song off by heart!’ Pushing open a door, Leah peered in, taking in the vital equipment lining the walls, a resuscitation cot in the corner with a large red crash trolley pushed up against the wall. ‘This is the paediatric resus area, though if a child’s that sick generally we’ll move them straight up to the main resus. Are you happy to go in there if we need a hand?’
Leah nodded. Resus didn’t unnerve her in the least. Unconscious patients she could deal with, it was the wide-awake arguing type she had a problem with!
‘Now, you’ve got a grad nurse with you—Tara. It’s her first week in Emergency but she’s pretty on the ball. Sort out your coffee-breaks between the two of you and, like I said, if you need anything just call.’
‘Do I need keys or anything,’ Leah asked as Fay made to go, ‘for the drug cupboard?’
‘Round your neck.’ Coming over, Fay held up the swipe card that had got Leah into the car park. ‘That will get you into the drug cupboard but if it’s controlled drugs you need you’ll have to come and get the keys from me.’
It wasn’t exactly the most thorough of tours but it would have to do. Thankfully, because the department hadn’t been so busy then, Fay had shown her around a touch more thoroughly during her interview, so at least Leah had a handle on most things.
‘Leah!’ The smiling face coming out from behind a curtain was mercifully familiar.
‘Tara.’ The warmth in Leah’s voice was genuine. Tara had not only been kind to her when she had been a patient but an efficient and thorough nurse as well. It made the whole afternoon a touch less daunting knowing she would be working with someone so competent. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘It’s good to see you.’ Tara gave a slight grimace. ‘Actually, it’s really good.’ She lowered her voice and Leah knew the small talk was over and it was straight down to business. ‘I’ve got a two-year-old in here and the mum just found him chewing on this.’ Tara held up a half-empty blister packet of paracetamol. ‘She’s almost beside herself. I told Fay and she didn’t seem too concerned. She said to tell the mother that the doctor might be a while but when I said that the mother just went off, said she’d read in the newspaper that even a few paracetamol can be fatal and that the doctor had to come and see her now. She’s nearly beside herself.’
Leah gave a wry smile. Fay had been right—emergency medicine really was the same the world over. Gesturing for Tara to follow her, Leah had a brief look at the casualty card before pulling open the curtain and stepping inside the cubicle. ‘Mrs Thomsen, my name’s Leah.’
Mrs Thomsen clearly didn’t care what Leah’s name was. She was trying to push a dummy into a fretful baby while stopping her hyperactive two-year-old from climbing over the cot sides. Leah could feel the tension before the curtain had even stopped flapping. ‘You think that Riley might have taken some paracetamol.’
‘You tell me.’ Mrs Thomsen turned, teary bloodshot eyes meeting Leah’s. ‘I walked into the bathroom and he’s holding onto a half-empty packet and now I’ve got everyone asking me how many were in the packet before I found him.
‘How many were in the packet?’ Mrs Thomsen repeated herself, her voice rising with each and every word. ‘How on earth would I know? I don’t know how he got them in the first place. I keep all the medicines locked up, all of them,’ she reiterated. ‘I know you don’t believe me, that you probably think I just leave them lying about, but I don’t. I’m always so careful, I just can’t believe I’m here. And nobody’s doing anything. I read in the paper….’
Picking up her wailing infant she tried to drag her toddler down from the cot side and Leah’s heart went out to her, first-day nerves instantly forgotten as she addressed her patient.
‘Mrs Thomsen,’ Leah started. ‘Or Jan, if you don’t mind me calling you that?’
A brief shrug was her only answer, but Leah pressed on anyway. ‘Paracetamol is extremely dangerous and you were right to bring Riley straight in.’ Pulling down the cot sides, Leah picked up the hyperactive bundle, deliberately ignoring his jammy fingers, which instantly reached for her name badge and stethoscope, allowing Jan to concentrate on her baby. ‘Does she need a feed?’ Leah asked, and Jan gave a small nod. ‘Do you need a bottle?’
‘I’m breastfeeding,’ Jan snapped, but Leah remained unfazed even though Riley was exploring her pockets now.
‘Go ahead.’ She politely played with Riley as Jan settled her infant and once some sort of order was restored Leah carried on talking. ‘Like I said, it was very sensible of you to bring Riley to Emergency. Paracetamol can be extremely dangerous, and you’re right—even a few tablets can be serious in children as young as Riley. The trouble is, you found Riley chewing on the packet an hour ago…’ She watched as Jan gave a hesitant nod. ‘Paracetamol takes a while to be absorbed. If we take Riley’s blood now, even if he has taken some, it will only show a trace, which would be misleading. We have to wait four to six hours after ingestion to take the bloods.’
‘But if he has taken them, won’t it be doing damage now?’ Jan asked. ‘Shouldn’t you pump his stomach just in case?’
‘A few years ago we would have.’ Leah nodded. ‘Just in case, as you said. But it’s been shown to be ineffective.’ Taking the half-empty blister pack from Tara, who was watching quietly, Leah handed it to Riley. ‘In all probability Riley hasn’t taken any.’
‘How do you know?’ Jan asked, but the hysteria had gone from her voice, Leah’s quiet, assured tones calming the tension. ‘How can you be sure?’
‘I can’t be sure, but two-year-olds generally don’t have the fine motor skills needed to push a tablet out of the blister pack.’ They looked down as Riley, gummy and smiling, played with the empty blister pack and Jan finally seemed to relax. ‘The risk is that there were a couple lying around, unaccounted for, that perhaps the pack was half-open. Where two-year-olds are concerned you can never really be sure. So I’m afraid you’re in for a horrible long day, hanging around waiting for a blood test, then another few hours waiting for the result, only to be told that Riley hasn’t taken any anyway.’
‘I don’t mind that,’ Jan said, a smile finally breaking out on her strained face, ‘just as long as he’s all right.’
‘I’m sure he will be,’ Leah said firmly. ‘But if the blood test does show that he’s taken too much, then we’ll be straight onto it. There’s an antidote that can be given but it has to be administered within a strict timeframe, so you really were right to bring Riley i
n. Accidents happen, Jan. This wasn’t anyone’s fault.’ Leah was making to go now, happy the situation was under control and that Jan understood the reason for the delay.
‘Try telling that to my husband.’ Something in her voice stilled Leah, a slightly weary, pensive note that Leah, no matter how busy, couldn’t ignore.
‘Are things a bit tough at home?’
‘A bit?’ Jan’s brimming eyes spilled over. Tara relieved Leah of Riley and Leah pulled up a chair.
‘Can Riley eat?’ Tara asked. ‘There are some sandwiches in the fridge and I could put a video on for him.’
‘Good idea,’ Leah answered gratefully, glad of Tara’s tact, knowing it would be easier for Jan to open up without an audience and her two-year-old son watching. ‘Is there anyone waiting?’
Tara peered outside and shook her head. ‘I’ll call if I need you.’
Once they were alone, Leah took a couple of tissues from the box on the shelf and handed them to Jan, who wept quietly for a moment before talking.
‘I feel so stupid,’ she started. ‘Rick’s going to be furious.’
‘Rick’s your husband?’ Leah checked, and Jan nodded miserably. ‘Like I said before, Jan, it was an accident, we see this sort of thing all the time.’
‘That’s no excuse, though, is it? Medications should be locked up—everyone knows that. I’m always so careful. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.’ She gave a quick shake of her head and, stuffing the tissues into her pocket, she forced a brave smile. The baby had finished feeding now and Jan stood up, laying the infant down in the cot reserved for Riley. Leah helped her to pull up the heavy metal cot side.
‘I’m being ridiculous, overreacting,’ Jan said as firmly as she could, trying to put on a brave face. ‘I just got such a fright when I found him with the tablet pack but I’ll be fine now. You get on, sister. I’m sure you’ve got a hundred things to do without listening to my problems.’
‘It’s my job to listen,’ Leah said gently, not moving an inch. ‘And sometimes talking about things can help. Put things into perspective a bit.’ She watched as Jan, after a moment’s hesitation, sat back down and gazed over at her sleeping baby before pulling the tissues back out.
The Consultant's Accidental Bride Page 8
