by Barbara Hart
Helen felt around the knee area and was convinced that this elderly man had suffered an injury more commonly seen in much younger athletes.
‘I suspect you may have torn the ligament in your knee—the anterior cruciate ligament,’ she explained to him. ‘First of all we need to have an X-ray to rule out any fractures. Then we can take it from there. It may be that you’ll need to be seen by someone in the orthopaedic department.’
She wrote his details on a form and gave it to him.
‘The nurse will show you where the X-ray department is,’ she said. ‘When you’ve had it done, come back here and we can then decide on the best course of action.’
It was another hour before all the patients had been seen and by then Mr Birdwell had returned, holding his X-ray in a brown envelope.
‘Shall I direct him to the orthopaedic department, Dr Blackburn?’ the clinic nurse asked.
‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘I’ll take a look at the X-ray first.’
She pinned the negative onto the light-box on the wall and studied it carefully.
‘I can’t see any bone fractures, which leads me to believe that my initial diagnosis was correct…a damaged ACL. In any event, the next stage is for Mr Birdwell to be assessed by an orthopaedic surgeon for possible arthroscopic surgery. First of all, though, we need to immobilise his knee in a leg brace to avoid further injury. And now that we’ve finished here, I might as well take him along to Orthopaedics myself and discuss Mr Birdwell’s treatment with the consultant,’ said Helen. ‘If we can borrow a wheelchair, I can get him along there in no time. I’d feel happier knowing that his injury will be treated as soon as possible. It’s important that the damaged tissue is repaired at an early stage. The longer it’s left untreated, the longer it will take to cure, and the greater the chance of permanent disability.’
Helen could see the nurse looking at her with raised eyebrows.
‘Sports injuries are my thing,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘I suppose you could count vigorous tap dancing as a type of sport!’
‘Why don’t I take Mr Birdwell?’ suggested the nurse.
‘It’s OK. I’ve finished for the day and I may as well take this opportunity to have a word with the orthopaedic consultant. It would help if you rang on ahead to make sure they’ll be expecting us.’
As Helen pushed Mr Birdwell along the hospital corridors she realised that she had a hidden agenda. All right, so it would be useful to speak directly to the consultant about the patient, but it was mainly to satisfy her curiosity about this new Dr Henderson. It couldn’t possibly be him…could it?
It had been a hectic morning in Orthopaedics. Andrew was glad the clinic was almost over and he could look forward to relaxing for an hour before starting the afternoon surgery list.
It was only his second week in the job and he was only now settling into a proper routine, getting the feel of the place and, against all expectations, beginning to enjoy his new appointment. Being an orthopaedic consultant in Milchester was something he’d never thought he’d be. It just hadn’t been in his career plan. But there again, so many things that had happened over the past year had also not been in his career plan. The months he’d been forced to spend in Chicago, for instance, and all the surrounding unpleasantness. Meeting Helen in New York and falling for her, just at the worst possible time, had also not been part of his overall strategy. And when he’d returned from Chicago, he’d expected to find her in New York—not back home in Milchester.
It had taken quite a bit of searching around for her, but he’d been pretty confident that she’d come back to her home town. That was why, when he’d seen this job advertised in a medical journal, he’d applied straight away. It was only for six months and that suited him fine. He’d been confident of tracking her down in that time and hopeful of convincing her that he really did love her, even though his past actions might have given the opposite impression.
Now that he was settled into the job, he decided that he’d start his search for her in earnest. He’d tried looking in the local phone book, without success. But then he recalled that Helen had a stepfather and therefore, if she was living at home, the phone number would be listed under a different name.
He was pondering what his next move should be—perhaps he should contact one of the professional organisations and try and get a lead from there—when he received a phone call from the open access clinic. Something about a patient with a suspect knee injury. He liked knees…they were his favourite thing, so to speak.
‘Come this way,’ he heard the desk nurse say to the patient. ‘Dr Henderson is expecting you.’
An old man in a wheelchair was manoeuvred into his room. The wheelchair was being pushed by Helen Blackburn. Andrew beamed at her with delight. He could hardly believe his luck. Only a few days in Milchester and his search was over before it had hardly begun!
‘Helen!’ he exclaimed.
‘Oh!’ she blurted out. ‘It is you!’
‘So it would appear,’ he said, attempting to keep his voice on an even keel.
What he instinctively wanted to do was to leap across the room and enfold her in his arms. She looked even lovelier than he remembered. Her thick, dark, shoulder-length hair had been cut shorter, but not too short. It suited her. But there was something else different about her, something…indefinable. She stared at him from sea-blue eyes, stared at him in…amazement? Delight? Horror? Whatever she felt at that precise moment, she was giving nothing away. After her initial reaction at seeing him, a shutter came down and she covered up her emotions. Her face became an inscrutable mask.
‘You two know each other?’ asked the nurse.
‘We’ve met,’ said Helen.
‘In New York,’ said Andrew.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said the nurse, before going over to Mr Birdwell to collect his medical details.
Helen, her voice level and calm, gave her assessment of the patient’s injuries and her initial diagnosis to Andrew. She hardly dared to look him in the eye. When she stopped speaking there was a moment’s awkward pause.
‘Dr Blackburn,’ said Andrew, speaking in the same professional tone adopted by Helen, ‘why don’t we meet in the canteen for a coffee to catch up on old times?’ He could see she was hesitating, possibly about to refuse. ‘Just for a quick coffee, you understand,’ he pressed. ‘I’ve got a full afternoon’s list and you’re probably rushing off somewhere.’
‘Well, I suppose I could spare a few minutes,’ she said, torn between conflicting emotions. ‘I’ll wait there for you.’
‘Great,’ said Andrew, adding under his breath, ‘In case you’ve forgotten, mine’s a regular coffee, no sugar.’ He gave her a wicked look before turning to the patient.
When she’d left the room, he forced himself to concentrate on the patient even though thoughts of Helen kept intruding, making his mind wander. He was just so happy to have found her, he couldn’t stop smiling.
‘Mr Birdwell,’ he said, grinning from ear to ear, ‘tell me about your knee…’
Helen walked quickly down the corridor, wondering if she’d bitten off more than she was prepared to chew.
She went into the canteen and bought two coffees, taking them to a table as far away from the main area as possible. She had no idea what she and Andrew were going to be saying to each other, but she knew she didn’t want their conversation to be overheard by a roomful of hospital staff.
Helen checked her watch at least a dozen times in as many minutes. Her mother might be wondering what was keeping her late, although she knew well enough that her daughter could often be delayed by patients needing urgent attention. Helen was wondering whether she should give her mother a quick phone call when Andrew walked in. He looked around the room and soon spotted her, then walked over to the table briskly.
‘That took me longer than anticipated,’ he said. ‘Our Mr Birdwell is going to need arthroscopic treatment on his knee and I’ve managed to slot him in at the front of my operatin
g list tomorrow.’
He sat down facing her. ‘Is this for me?’ he asked, taking the lid off the paper cup.
‘It’s probably cold by now,’ said Helen, grateful to be able to chat about unimportant things, like whether or not the coffee was drinkable, instead of…well, instead of going straight into a serious and, no doubt, emotional conversation.
‘Coffee’s fine,’ said Andrew, sipping the lukewarm liquid. He felt his hands shaking and gripped the cup to stop it spilling out. Now that he was finally with her, he was finding it difficult to choose the right words to say.
‘How long are you over here?’ she asked, still reeling from the shock of seeing him in Milchester.
‘I’m on a six-month contract,’ he said, then, relaxing a little, grinned happily, adding, ‘It’s so good to see you. I was really quite surprised, and delighted, to find you working here.’
‘I was pretty surprised to find you here, I must say.’
She glanced at her watch once again. ‘Anyway, I can’t stay long. I have to…be somewhere soon. I only work here part time.’
She almost said I have to go home to my baby but she instinctively stopped herself in time. She had no idea what they were going to be talking about in the next few minutes, but she knew one item that was not going to be discussed—and that was Robert. She’d decided that this was definitely not the right time or place to tell Andrew that he had a baby son.
‘So,’ said Andrew, ‘I thought you might possibly be working somewhere that specialises in sports medicine.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘not at the moment. Although that is my ultimate aim, of course.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ he replied. ‘In fact, I was amazed to discover that you had left New York. I was convinced you were going to be working there in sports medicine. I seem to remember you were offered a very good job…’
‘I was,’ she cut in quickly. ‘I changed my mind. Got homesick.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he said, nodding his head slowly. ‘That’s what the professor implied.’
‘The professor?’ This was news to Helen.
‘I spoke to him about you when I returned from Chicago. I tried to contact you in New York but you’d left. I eventually discovered you’d gone home to England but old Mulberry wouldn’t give me your address. He said he believed you had a boyfriend.’ said Andrew, gripping his paper cup tightly. ‘He said that was why you went home…to be with this boyfriend in England.’
‘Oh,’ said Helen.
A silence opened up between them like a chasm. Eventually Andrew spoke. ‘Was he correct?’
‘He might have been,’ said Helen, determined to give very little away about her private life.
Andrew reached across and took hold of her left hand, scrutinising it.
‘You’re not married to him, though, are you?’ he said, commenting on the lack of rings on her third finger.
‘I’m not married yet.’ She pulled her hand away.
‘Yet?’ His heart skipped a beat. ‘You mean there is someone?’
Helen looked away and into the far corner of the room.
‘Yes,’ she said eventually. ‘We’re getting married quite soon.’
His spirits sank into his boots. So, that was that, was it? He’d come all this way, got a job in a town he didn’t know, just to try and find Helen…and now he discovered he was too late! He swallowed the cold coffee. Hang on a minute, don’t despair, he urged himself. The woman’s not married yet—there’s still a chance she could change her mind…or be persuaded to change her mind.
‘You could still come out with me for a meal one night, couldn’t you? For old times’ sake? Your fiancé wouldn’t object to that, I’m sure.’
Andrew fixed her with one of his mesmerising looks. She realised, with a sense of deepening reality, that he was beginning to work his magic on her. Her resolution just to have a coffee and then have nothing more to do with him was beginning to weaken.
‘Possibly,’ she said. ‘I’m just not sure when I’m free…’
‘Tonight?’
‘Not tonight.’
‘Tomorrow, then?’
Helen rose from the table and picked up her bag. ‘Andrew, I’m just not sure about it, that’s all.’
‘What’s there to be sure about?’
‘Well,’ she began, ‘for a start you disappear out of my life and go to Chicago, and then you suddenly reappear—’
‘I can explain all about that.’
‘And I’m not sure if Patrick will be understanding if I go out with you one evening.’
‘Patrick?’
‘The man I’m going to marry.’
Andrew drummed his fingers on the Formica table and looked up at her, giving her his most persuasive smile. ‘Surely he’ll understand if you tell him you’re just going out with an old friend, a medical colleague, who’s over from the States and who’s going back in a few months’ time?’
She hesitated for a moment and then moved away from the table. This time she wasn’t going to let him persuade her to act against her better judgement. She shook her head.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. And now I have to go,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you around, possibly.’
She walked briskly to the canteen door, not daring to look back. When she was sitting in her mother’s car in the hospital car park she realised her hands were shaking so much she could hardly manage to put the key in the ignition.
Helen’s mother, Dorothy, was in the kitchen, giving Robert his feed, when Helen arrived home.
‘Everything all right, love?’ asked her mother. ‘You look a bit drained.’
‘I’m fine,’ she replied, stroking the baby on his soft, downy head. Then, sitting down at the kitchen table, she blurted out, ‘I saw him today! That new orthopaedic surgeon…it is Andrew!’
Her mother took a sharp breath. ‘Goodness me,’ she said. ‘Did you speak to him?’
Helen nodded. ‘We had a quick coffee in the canteen.’
‘What did he say when you told him about the baby?’
Helen tensed her lips. ‘I didn’t. I know I’m going to have to tell him, especially now that he’s over here, but I just couldn’t bring myself to mention it in the hospital canteen. It didn’t seem the right time or the right place.’
She sat down and buried her head in her hands. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m just so muddled about everything! When I saw him today it brought back all the conflicting emotions, all the torment I’ve been through in the past year. I do love him, that will never change. But Andrew isn’t a man I could really trust, not after the way he behaved. And now I haven’t just got myself to think of, there’s little Robert. Thanks to Patrick, I now have the chance of a reasonably happy life with a man I’m very fond of, even though I know I can never love him the way I loved Andrew. I’m not going to risk losing all that for the sake of another one-night fling with him.’
‘Is that what he suggested?’ Her mother frowned.
‘Not in as many words,’ said Helen, smiling ruefully. ‘He put it more delicately, of course, asking me out for a meal one evening.’
‘And you turned him down, I hope?’
Helen nodded mutely.
Mrs Talbot carried on feeding Robert, talking to him softly. ‘Good boy…nearly finished…just a few more drops.’ She put the bottle down and put Robert over her left shoulder, patting him gently to bring up any air he might have taken in with the milk. She looked across at Helen.
‘Did he say why he’s over here?’
Helen shook her head. ‘No. All he said was that he’s on a six-month contract at the hospital. I expect he’s planning to go back to America when that’s finished. No doubt he thought he’d try and catch up with me while he was over here.’ She spread her hands out on the pine table. ‘I’m beginning to get a more complete picture of the guy. He flits around from town to town, country to country, picking up relationships all over the place. I was just unfortunate to be one of his many women. He should have
been a sailor, not a surgeon…at least sailors are expected to have a girl in every port!’
Robert gave a loud and very satisfying burp. Both women laughed.
‘Yes, Robert,’ said Helen, taking him from her mother. ‘That’s exactly what I think of your father, too.’
A few days later, Andrew was on his way to the open access unit, hoping he might bump into Helen again.
Even after meeting her earlier in the week, he was still no closer to finding out her address. He was sure that if he turned up at her house one day over the weekend he might find her in a more receptive mood. He decided to try getting her home number through the hospital, and the open access unit was his starting point.
As he walked along the long corridor leading to the unit he realised how desperate he was to make contact with Helen again, and the sooner the better. He needed to find out if there was any chance at all that they could resume their affair, an affair that he’d been forced to put on hold for several months while he’d sorted things out in Chicago. Explaining his strange behaviour to Helen over a five-minute cup of coffee in a crowded hospital canteen wasn’t ideal…and he had no intention of rushing it. Added to which, he’d been so taken aback and demoralised to discover that she was planning to marry someone else that he honestly didn’t know what had hit him. Now that he’d had time to gather his thoughts together he felt he was better prepared to start winning her back again.
In the open access unit he was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that she wasn’t there. She’d told him that she only worked there part time.
‘Hello, Dr Henderson,’ said the desk clerk, ‘can I help you?’
‘I was wondering if you had Dr Blackburn’s home address? She brought a patient across to me earlier in the week and I—’
Before he could finish his explanation, the desk clerk was looking up the required information on the computer.
‘Sure, Dr Henderson,’ she said. ‘Just hang on a minute and I’ll find it for you. Dr Helen Blackburn?’
