Esther gave a brief nod.
He narrowed his gaze. Was she actually listening? He glanced at the board he’d noticed yesterday. It was a shift rota for staff.
The next few days would be vital for Billy. It was important that whoever was looking after him was at the top of their game. Esther’s name was on the rota for tomorrow. He couldn’t let that go.
‘You’re tired. No, scrap that, you’re exhausted. And I think you’re sick. I don’t think you should be at work and I certainly don’t think you should be assigned to Billy. For the next few days he’s going to need someone who’s alert and on their game.’ He paused for the briefest second, because he knew what he was about to say wasn’t exactly nice. ‘And to be honest, I’m not convinced that’s you. I want another midwife assigned to Billy.’
‘What?’ Well, that had certainly gotten her attention.
‘I’m sorry. But I can’t take the risk of performing this surgery and having his postoperative care compromised.’
‘How dare you!’ she hissed at him. She glanced down. ‘What? Because I have a little coffee spilled on my scrubs and I haven’t had a chance to get changed yet, and because I dared to close my eyes in the hospital canteen, you’ve decided I’m not fit to do my job? Just who do you think you are?’
He cringed. He hadn’t exactly said those words but it was certainly how he’d felt. ‘I think you’re sick,’ he said quickly. ‘I think you might need to be checked over, and have a few days’ rest.’ He could see a couple of other staff members looking their way—as if they’d picked up that something was wrong. The last thing he wanted when he was taking up a position here was to cause a ruckus with the staff.
‘My priority is my patient,’ he said quietly but firmly.
‘And mine isn’t?’ He could tell she was mad.
That wasn’t what he meant, even though he’d clearly just implied it. But then again, did he really want this midwife looking after his patient if she wasn’t at the top of her game?
Francesca glared at him from over her computer. Oh no. That didn’t usually happen. Francesca normally had his back.
He took a deep breath. ‘Esther, I have to call things the way I see it. I think you’re running a temp and maybe need to take some time off. You agreed you’d go down to A&E and get checked over. Why don’t you do that and we’ll take it from there.’ It was a compromise. But it was the best he could do right now.
She kept her face entirely straight and pulled up a few things on the computer and grabbed the chart from the base of Billy’s crib.
‘Here, Mr Beaumont. I’d like you to check my work. Here’s all the orders I made for Billy on my shifts for the last few days. Here’s all my nursing notes. Here’s every temp, blood pressure, pulse and respiratory rate. Here’s his medications I’ve administered, and his feeding. Here’s his skin care chart. Here’s his colour chart. Here’s how many times I’ve sounded his chest to ensure that it remains clear. Here is exactly how many times he’s had a wet or dirty nappy.’ She pulled up a final chart. ‘And here’s how many times I’ve had to chase doctors, other departments, test results...all to ensure Billy’s care is up to my standards.’ She held herself very still, but there was the tiniest tremble in her voice. ‘I want you to take the time to look at what I’ve done. Because I record everything, meticulously.’ She emphasized the word, then gave a wave of her hand. ‘And once you’ve done that, I can pull up all the same information for his mother, and you can check my recordings for Jill too.’ She paused for a few seconds as he glanced over what she’d handed him. ‘Unfortunately I’m not on shift twenty-four hours a day, so I’ve only given you what I’ve done for Billy. Hospitals have emergencies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Blood machines break down. Feeding tubes dislodge and can’t be safely used again until there’s been an x-ray that’s been checked by a physician. I’m not responsible for other people’s time constraints.’
He was checking. She was right. He couldn’t deny it. Her recording was meticulous. Some of the best he’d ever seen, and he’d been in a lot of NICU units.
She’d felt warm to the touch earlier, but as she’d moved closer as she spoke to him he couldn’t hear any sign of a wheeze or rasp in her breathing. Every person was different. Maybe she didn’t have an infection. Maybe he was overreacting. It could be that her body temperature just ran at the top end of normal. It happened.
What was clear was he couldn’t tell her why he’d overreacted. He couldn’t tell her that deep down there was an underlying paranoia about his patients and their welfare.
Before he could blink she’d stepped right up in front of him, her accent thick but perfectly legible. ‘You know, Harry, I’m actually glad that you’re here. Because even though you’re an insufferably arrogant fool, I know how much Billy needs this surgery. And I put him first. Always. But I’m only going to say this once. Don’t ever talk to me like that again and don’t ever question my professionalism or my competency at work.’ She put both hands on her hips. ‘I wish you luck with Billy’s surgery today, but after that, I hope I never have to see your sorry ass in here again.’ And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Harry feeling about as welcome as a thorn in a space suit.
Francesca tutted and gave him a sarcastic smile. ‘Well done, Harry. First day on a new job and you’ve made friends.’ She picked up her bag. ‘And to be honest,’ she said in a low voice as she walked past. ‘Against her? I don’t fancy your chances at all.’
CHAPTER TWO
THE SIGNS HAD been there but she’d been too busy to pick them up—looking after Jill, worrying about her mum. Esther cursed herself all the way down the stairs towards A&E. She hated the fact that it took that pompous prince, duke or whatever he claimed to be to point them out before the penny had finally dropped for her.
Abi had told her to go on down for the check while she took care of Billy but Esther already knew exactly what was wrong with her. She’d ducked into the treatment room and took her own temperature. Yip. She was burning up. She grabbed some paracetamol from her handbag. She had to start somewhere.
Rob, one of the advanced nurse practitioners, was at the nurses’ station in the middle of the A&E department. He took one look. ‘You okay?’
She shook her head. ‘I think I’ve got an upper UTI. Can I borrow you for five minutes?’
He nodded. ‘Sure.’ Then he smiled and handed her a specimen bottle. ‘Let’s get you sorted.’
It took a little more than five minutes because Rob liked to be thorough. Once he heard her past history of having kidney problems as a child, leaving her prone to upper urinary tract infections, he gave a little nod, dipsticked her urine, rechecked her temp and listened to her symptoms of fatigue and an aching lower back.
‘You couldn’t come down earlier?’
She sighed. ‘I’d felt a bit tired but my back only started aching this morning and the new neonatal cardiac surgeon arrived today so I’ve been flat out dealing with him too.’
He gave her a nod and scribbled some notes. ‘What normally works best?’
She told him the name of the antibiotic that normally resolved her infections and he scribbled a prescription, then went to one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle, signing a form to record it. ‘Okay, so I won’t make you trek to the pharmacy. But I’m still sending your sample away to make sure you’re on the right antibiotic. Results should be on the system tomorrow. I’m working then—will I give you a call?’
Esther gave a grateful nod. The computer system in the Queen Victoria meant that no staff could access their own records or results—no matter how tempting it was. ‘Perfect. Thanks, Rob.’
‘Any time. Not many perks to being in the NHS. We’ve got to look after our own. Are you going to take some time off?’
‘Me?’ She smiled and shook her head. ‘As soon as I start taking these, they usually work fast. This time tom
orrow I’ll start to feel better. I’ll just take some paracetamol until then.’
He gave a nod. ‘Fine, but let me know if there’s anything else you need.’
‘An assassination attempt on a visiting surgeon, maybe?’
Rob looked up in surprise. ‘He’s annoyed Crabbie Rabbie? Wow, he’s brave.’
She waved her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve told him how much I love him already. Hopefully he’ll do his surgery, fix my baby and leave.’
She gave Rob a nod and disappeared out the cubicle and back along the corridor. In a way she was happy. This had obviously been working on her for the last few days. At least now she knew why she was so unnaturally tired. It was sort of a relief to know that after a few days of antibiotics she’d be back to herself again.
As she pushed open the door, the manager of the A&E department was heading towards her. Shirley had her hands full, so Esther held the door for her.
She gave her a grin. ‘Lifesaver, thanks.’
‘No probs.’
Something flitted across Shirley’s face. ‘Hey, don’t suppose you could cover a shift on Thursday?’
Esther glanced at the pill bottle she’d just pushed into the pocket of her uniform. Thursday. Three days away. It was her next scheduled day off and she was bound to be feeling better by then. ‘Sure.’ She nodded.
‘Great,’ Shirley shouted over her shoulder as she continued to speed down the corridor.
* * *
Harry was doing his absolute best not to try and cause trouble. Only because Francesca had torn a few strips off him.
‘You were way out of line yesterday,’ she said quietly as they met the next morning.
‘How was I out of line? I don’t want some flaky member of staff caring for my baby.’
‘Your baby?’ Francesca raised her eyebrows.
He sighed. ‘You know what I mean. If I operate on them, they’re all my babies.’
‘Don’t try the mushy stuff with me. You’re being harsh. So, she spilt coffee and didn’t have time to change. Who hasn’t? Half the times I was called to a cardiac arrest, I went with half my lunch down me.’
‘Did you sleep in the hospital canteen too?’
Francesca shrugged. ‘Sometimes. If I’d been up all night on call, I might grab five minutes when I had to. Can you really say that you’ve never done that?’
He took in a deep breath and gave a conciliatory shrug too. ‘Okay, I might have.’
Francesca gave him a hard stare. ‘I’m just saying. This is the first time you’ve operated here. I’d try not to get on the wrong side of everyone you might come across if you’re going to be a visiting surgeon.’
‘Now who’s being harsh?’
Francesca started pulling up some results on a nearby computer. ‘Anyway. I would tread carefully. I’ve heard she’s got a nickname.’
‘A nickname?’
Francesca nodded and smiled. ‘Yep. Crabbie Rabbie.’
‘What?’ Harry frowned.
‘Something to do with Scotland’s national bard?’
‘I know who Rabbie Burns is.’
‘Well, apparently she got the nickname just after she arrived. Something to do with her strong accent and the fact she takes no prisoners with people she thinks are annoying.’
‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
‘Just that I think you’ve clearly just put yourself into the annoying category.’
He shook his head. ‘Oh, thanks for that.’ The door to the NICU opened and the day staff filed in, Esther among them.
Her dark hair was swept up in an elaborate plait. She still looked tired but maybe she’d put a little more make-up on, because there was more colour in her cheeks than there had been yesterday. She was wearing a different colour of scrubs today. Bright pink. He’d noticed the staff in the NICU wore different colours—sometimes even with child-friendly designs. The brighter colour made her not look quite so washed out.
It was odd. On any other day—with any other member of staff—he might actually have admitted that he thought she was quite attractive. But he didn’t have time for that. Harry didn’t usually date anyone from work. Too many complications. And he and Esther hadn’t exactly got off to a good start.
He wanted to ask if she was fit to work. He wanted to ask if she still had a temperature. He knew he wasn’t entitled to. Staff in NICUs were extremely familiar with the dangers of exposing babies to potential infections. He shouldn’t second-guess anyone.
Francesca tapped his arm. ‘Okay, I’m off to see another baby.’ She shot him another look. ‘Now, behave. Play nicely.’
He shook his head as she walked out the door.
* * *
Esther had raged last night as she’d tried to get to sleep. It was ridiculous. All day all she’d wanted to do was sleep, but actually put her in comfy pyjamas and give her her own bed and she lay there blinking and plotting horrible futures for that annoying surgeon. The man had even stolen her sleep from her.
She ignored the fact it was noisy outside, the pipes creaked, the radiators hissed and upstairs seemed to be having a party again. Her back might have ached a little too, and she’d needed to pee on numerous occasions. It was funny how when you finally got a diagnosis your body practically slapped you on the face with it. But no, it was none of those things that prevented her from sleeping; it was definitely smug Harry Beaumont with his entourage and unflattering words.
She burned from a few of the things he’d said to her. But most of all was his threat to ask for another midwife to be assigned to Billy. She was pretty sure that the charge nurse for the unit would give him short shrift. Oona was from Northern Ireland, and was much more like Esther in temperament than she cared to admit. She wouldn’t take kindly to some visiting surgeon dictating what happened in her NICU.
But as Esther walked through the door of NICU she could see Harry sitting at the nurses’ station. It was 6:50 in the morning and clearly her worst day in the world was just about to start.
It didn’t help that he was looking like Dr Delicious in his pale blue shirt that was a little damp around the collar. He’d obviously just showered and was currently charming the few staff around him; they were laughing and joking.
She braced herself, waiting for someone to tell her she couldn’t look after the little boy she’d spent the last few days tending to. Her eyes hesitantly went to the board. Esther McDonald was written next to Billy Rudd and Akshita Patel. She let out a sigh of relief and went straight over to hear the report.
Somehow she just knew that every single step of the way Harry’s eyes were watching. What was he waiting for?
She pointedly ignored him. Billy’s surgery had apparently gone well, which was a relief. She hurried over to his crib to get a look at him for herself, making sure she gave Jill a hug first.
His colour was different—straight away. Some people might not have found it obvious, but Esther was an experienced NICU member of staff and had always noticed the slight dusky tinge to Billy’s skin. Today, it was gone. His skin still had the translucence of a premature baby, but the colour had definitely improved.
She breathed and caught a scent. She tensed. She recognised it from yesterday, some kind of woody undertones. Harry. She was determined not to turn around.
Jill had got up and gone into the small kitchen in NICU to make herself a cup of tea.
‘Things went well?’ she asked Harry in an even tone. They might have got off to a bad start but there was no point in being uncivil.
‘Yes, and no,’ he said in a low voice.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, things took a little longer than expected. We ran into some problems. The surgery ended up taking about eight hours.’
Esther turned to face him in shock. She knew how long the surgery should have taken. ‘But...’
Her skin prickled. He wasn’t saying anything out loud. But it felt like he was accusing her of something.
‘Experience with these babies tells me that if something is going to go wrong, it generally happens in the first forty-eight hours after surgery.’
The time when she was part of the team watching Billy.
She tilted her chin, part of her felt defiant, and part of her felt distinctly annoyed by his unsaid implication.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. She knew when surgery had started yesterday. If it had taken eight hours, it couldn’t have finished until well after midnight. Harry had already been here when she’d come in for her shift. She knew she hadn’t slept last night, but had he?
‘Are you staying close by? You’ve had a quick turnaround.’
She wasn’t even sure where the observation came from, and the instant it came out her mouth she wasn’t entirely comfortable with how it sounded.
But Harry didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’m only a few miles away in Belgravia, but I stayed here last night to keep an eye on Billy.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded. Belgravia. Of course. He was supposed to be some kind of royalty, wasn’t he? Of course that’s where he’d stay. Not like herself, who had to travel nearly an hour each day to get to work.
He pulled something from his pocket, then cleared his throat. ‘I left a note for the NICU nurse last night about all the things I wanted monitored in Billy.’
She glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. ‘I do know how to do postoperative care, Harry. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.’ There was no way she was touching that list. Her eyes quickly ran down it. It was what they would do for every baby postsurgery, with the exception of one test that could easily be ordered with the rest of the blood work.
Cinderella and the Surgeon Page 3
