The Latin Surgeon

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘That’s great. Oh, Annabel, just one other thing. Exactly what sort of party is it—dress and all that?’

  ‘Oh, black tie, darling. Sorry, didn’t Theo say? Drinks first at seven, here in Chelsea, followed by dinner at eight, then on to a club.’

  ‘That’s great, Annabel—just as long as I know.’

  Lara wasn’t sure how she felt about going to the party with Andres. She had been only too pleased to be able to do something in return to thank him for the trouble he’d gone to on her behalf over the job at the Roseberry, and while there was a part of her that tingled with excitement whenever she thought about the event there was another part—possibly the greater—that was filled with apprehension whenever it came into her mind.

  She knew none of these friends of his other than Theo McFarlane, whom she’d met only briefly, but no doubt they would all be wealthy and from the upper strata of society. Not that that in itself bothered Lara. She had always felt she could hold her head high in any circle. And now that Cassie, bless her, had solved the problem over what she should wear, another anxiety had been removed—always supposing, of course, it was the type of party where a little black dress would be appropriate. So what was it that was bothering her? What was it that caused her heart to lurch almost in fear whenever she thought about it? She wasn’t really sure. She only knew it was the same mixture of emotions she felt whenever she knew she was about to see Andres, whether at the Roseberry or at St Joseph’s.

  She had no chance for a private word with him as to the exact nature of the party until one morning at St Joseph’s at the end of a busy theatre list during which four patients had undergone skin grafts following accidents in which they had received severe burns. Still clad in his theatre greens and white boots and with the red cap on his head, he was standing at the nurses’ station, discussing post-operative care with Tom Martin and Sue Jackman. Lara, watching from the ward where she had just finished carrying out half-hourly observations on those patients who’d undergone surgery that morning, picked her moment carefully, moving forward as Sue went back into her office and Tom walked off down the corridor.

  ‘Andres,’ she said softly, ‘may I have a word?’

  He was studying a report but he looked round quickly as she approached. ‘Of course,’ he said. Did his expression soften when he saw her or did she imagine it?

  ‘I’ve been wondering,’ she said in the same quiet tone, ensuring that only he would hear her, ‘about the party…’

  ‘Yes?’ There was amusement in his eyes now. ‘Don’t tell me, you’ve decided you don’t want to come after all. Well, I can’t say I blame you…’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly, ‘it’s nothing like that—really.’

  ‘Really?’ The dark eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Like I say, I wouldn’t blame you.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m still coming—that is, if you want me to—but I was wondering what sort of party it is.’

  ‘I understand there will be drinks first—cocktails,’ he said, ‘then dinner, then there’s talk of going on to a club.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ she said in relief as she thought of the little black dress hanging in Cassie’s wardrobe, knowing it would be entirely suitable for what he was describing.

  ‘I’ve checked the rotas at the Roseberry,’ he said, ‘and I see that you are on duty that afternoon. You won’t have time to go home to change so maybe you would like to come to my house to get ready?’

  ‘Oh.’ She stared at him. ‘Thank you,’ she added weakly, not knowing quite what else to say.

  ‘Afterwards, I will arrange for a car to take you home,’ he said. ‘Is that all right?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ For some reason her heart was thumping even more than it usually did when she encountered him. She only hoped he couldn’t hear it. She didn’t know why she should react in this way because the one thing she really had to remember was that she mustn’t allow her head to be turned by all this talk of dinners and clubs. This was purely an arrangement between the two of them, nothing more, nothing less, an arrangement to put paid to the matchmaking tendencies of Andres’s over-enthusiastic friends.

  ‘I have to go now.’ He glanced at the clock over the nurses’ station. ‘I have a clinic to take in Harley Street this afternoon.’ His voice softened slightly. ‘I’ll see you soon, Lara.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied breathlessly, ‘see you soon.’ She watched him walk away, feeling so overwhelmed she thought she might be about to burst.

  ‘Lara!’ She jumped guiltily and turned to find Sue in the doorway of her office. ‘Would you come in here for a moment, please?’

  This was it, she thought miserably as she followed Sue into the room and waited while the sister firmly closed the door.

  ‘It’s come to my notice,’ said Sue, sitting down behind her desk and coming straight to the point, ‘that you have taken on another job. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Lara straightened her shoulders and looked Sue squarely in the eye.

  ‘May I ask why?’ she asked coolly.

  ‘Because I need the money.’

  ‘You know how I feel about moonlighting,’ Sue went on.

  ‘It’s hardly that,’ Lara interrupted her. ‘I’m only part time here, a situation that was forced on me by my home circumstances. I now find myself in a position of needing more hours, and if you remember rightly, I approached you first to see if more hours were available on this unit. You told me there weren’t—’

  ‘I also told you that there would eventually be another post coming up—that staff are coming and going all the time.’

  ‘I wasn’t financially in a position to wait,’ Lara protested. ‘So when I was offered another job, a job which, I may add, fitted in perfectly and in no way threatened my hours here—’

  ‘You grabbed it.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it like that,’ Lara retorted, ‘but when Andr—Mr Ricardo,’ she corrected herself quickly, but not before she’d seen the expression that flitted across the other woman’s face, ‘suggested I attend an interview at the Roseberry clinic, I agreed.’

  ‘How did he know you were looking for another job?’ demanded Sue.

  ‘He happened to overhear the conversation you and I had when I asked you for more hours and you told me there were none.’

  ‘So it was nothing to do with you offering him lifts in your car—or anything else for that matter?’

  Lara stared at her. ‘No, of course not!’ she said, feeling the colour rush to her face. ‘What do you take me for?’

  Sue shrugged. ‘In my experience, Lara, men are men and they can rarely resist anything that is on offer.’

  ‘I can assure you there was nothing on offer,’ said Lara hotly.

  ‘Maybe not, but by the same token where men are concerned there is no such thing as a free lunch. If he’s done you a favour, he’ll expect one back.’

  ‘I’m more than capable of taking care of myself,’ retorted Lara.

  ‘So what was all that about just now?’ Sue’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously, and in spite of her anger Lara was reminded what Katie had told her about the sister fancying the new consultant locum.

  ‘What was all what about?’ she demanded.

  ‘You and Mr Ricardo with your heads together, whispering in a corner.’

  ‘We were not whispering,’ she retorted angrily.

  ‘So what were you doing?’

  ‘We…we were discussing a patient.’ It was a white lie and she knew it, but in view of what had just been said, Lara couldn’t bring herself to tell Sue what she and Andres had really been discussing.

  ‘Well, I hope it was one of our patients here at St Joseph’s,’ Sue said acidly, ‘and not one of the patients at the Roseberry Clinic. I can’t pretend I’m happy about this arrangement,’ she went on in the same acerbic tones, ‘but I don’t suppose there’s a lot I can do about it.’

  Moments later, still smarting from Sue’s words, Lar
a found herself back on the ward. Katie had just received a delivery of dressings and other goods from hospital stores and was in the process of carrying them from the nurses’ station to the ward’s small storeroom. She looked up as Lara approached. ‘What’s up?’ she said, catching sight of her friend’s expression and pausing in her work, her arms full of packages.

  ‘I’ve just had an ear-bashing from our Reverend Sister,’ Lara replied, pulling a face and resorting to the nickname that had been given to Sue on more than one occasion.

  ‘Oh?’ Katie raised her eyebrows. ‘What about?’

  ‘My moonlighting, as she puts it,’ Lara replied through gritted teeth.

  ‘Your moonlighting?’ Katie stared at her, then as it dawned on her what Lara meant, she gave a chuckle. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I see. Well, you can rest assured it will have less to do with what you are actually doing than where it is and who made it possible.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lara drew in her breath sharply. ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘I told you she fancied him, didn’t I?’ said Katie with a little hint of triumph in her tone.

  ‘Yes, you did,’ Lara agreed, picking up a stack of packets of gauze squares and carrying them into the storeroom. ‘She won’t get anywhere with him, though.’

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t think she was his type,’ said Katie, following her into the room. ‘Not in a million years.’

  ‘I didn’t actually mean that.’ Lara turned from the shelf.

  ‘What did you mean?’ Katie frowned.

  ‘I don’t think he’s over the death of his wife yet, and because of that he isn’t interested in starting a relationship with anyone.’

  Katie stared at her. ‘How in the world have you reached that conclusion?’ she asked in amazement.

  ‘Oh, nothing really,’ Lara mumbled, suddenly aware that she might have divulged too much, even to Katie who was her closest friend at St Joseph’s. She had already made up her mind to say nothing of her Valentine’s Day arrangement with their locum consultant.

  ‘No, go on.’ Katie obviously had other ideas and pushed the door to behind them so there would be no danger of them being overheard. ‘How do you know all that? Did he tell you himself?’

  Lara took a deep breath, knowing that she was cornered. ‘Yes, he did,’ she admitted at last.

  ‘When did all this happen?’ Katie was agog now. ‘Surely not over the operating table at the Roseberry?’

  ‘Not exactly, no…’ Lara hesitated, uncertain just how much to divulge.

  ‘Where, then?’ Katie could be tenacious at the best of times, and Lara knew there was no chance she was going to give up over this.

  ‘We went for a drink after work.’

  ‘Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere.’

  ‘It was only a drink,’ Lara protested.

  ‘And yet he got round to telling you that he hadn’t yet got over the death of his wife sufficiently to be in another relationship?’ Katie sounded incredulous now, and Lara knew she would have a battle on her hands to convince her otherwise.

  ‘It wasn’t like that…’ she began hesitantly.

  ‘Come on, tell me, what was it like?’ Katie raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to talk about it.’

  ‘Not even to me?’ Katie sounded hurt. ‘I thought I was your friend.’

  ‘Oh, you are, of course you are,’ sighed Lara. ‘But if I tell you, I want you to promise you won’t go reading more into it than there is.’

  ‘You tell me and I’ll be the judge of that.’ Katie grinned.

  Lara took a deep breath then went on to explain to Katie all about the party, where it was and why Andres wanted her to go with him. ‘He simply doesn’t want another relationship,’ she ended up.

  ‘Told you that as well, did he?’ asked Katie, with more than a trace of scepticism in her voice.

  ‘Not in so many words, no, but it’s the impression I gained from hearing him talk.’

  ‘OK, right, so he’s taking you to this party to keep these friends quiet and that’s the only reason?’

  ‘Well, yes…’

  ‘And you’re happy with that?’ Katie’s voice softened slightly and in the background on the ward Lara was vaguely aware of some sort of commotion.

  ‘Yes,’ she declared passionately. ‘I felt it was the least I could do after him getting me the job at the Roseberry. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that? Honestly, Katie, you’re beginning to sound like Cassie.’

  ‘You mean she thinks there must be more to it as well?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know!’ Lara turned away in growing exasperation, wishing she’d never attempted to explain anything to Katie.

  ‘So where is it—this party?’ Katie obviously hadn’t finished.

  ‘Somewhere in Chelsea, I think.’ Lara kept her tone deliberately vague.

  ‘And what is it exactly?’

  ‘What do you mean, what is it?’ she hedged. ‘It’s just a party.’

  ‘Drinks? Buffet? Bring a bottle?’

  ‘Dinner party, actually.’

  ‘My, my, dinner party in Chelsea.’ Katie’s eyes widened. ‘That’s a bit of a far cry from our usual spag bol and a bottle, isn’t it?’

  Lara remained silent and Katie lowered her head in order to be able to look into her face. ‘And when did you say it is?’

  ‘I didn’t say…but it’s the fourteenth.’

  ‘Of this month?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, boy! And you’re trying to pretend there’s nothing in it? St Valentine’s Day? Pull the other one, Lara. He’s got a thing about you, you mark my words. He may have implied he doesn’t want another relationship yet but—’ Katie broke off as the storeroom door was suddenly flung open.

  ‘What in the world is going on in here?’ Sue stood in the open doorway, glaring at Katie and Lara. ‘I’ve been calling the pair of you.’

  ‘Sorry, Sue,’ said Katie sweetly. ‘We’ve been putting the stores away, haven’t we, Lara?’

  ‘Hmm, gossiping more likely,’ said Sue with a sniff. ‘Well, for your information, we have an emergency just come up from A and E, and I need you both on the ward.’

  ‘Right,’ said Katie calmly, ‘we’re coming.’

  They followed the sister back onto the ward where they found the emergency patient was being transferred from the porter’s trolley to a bed in a single side bay.

  ‘This is Mary Taylor,’ said Sue, taking up the notes of the patient and reading out the history. ‘She received twenty per cent burns in a kitchen fire at her home this morning. She has been stabilised in A and E and is receiving intravenous fluids and analgesics to help control her pain. She has superficial burns on her arms, partial-thickness burns on her face and hands and several patches of full-thickness burns also on her face and hands. Mr Ricardo fortunately hasn’t left the hospital yet so he said he will come and see her before he goes.’

  The following half-hour was spent making Mary Taylor as comfortable as possible. Understandably she had become distraught by her condition and consequently had been given sedatives in A and E, from which she was still extremely drowsy. By the time Lara had inserted a catheter Andres had arrived on the ward. Quietly he approached the patient’s bedside and gently touched a part of her arm that hadn’t been injured.

  ‘Hello, Mary,’ he said softly. It was unlikely that she heard him, though if she did she would probably be unable to concentrate or understand what he said, but in spite of that Andres continued talking in the same gentle tone. ‘I don’t want to disturb you too much but I’m going to take a look at your burns.’

  Mary opened her eyes and moaned softly.

  Gently, carefully, with Lara’s assistance Andres examined the raw, inflamed patches on the woman’s face, arms and hands. ‘I think,’ he said, still addressing his comments to the patient, ‘that in time I will be able to make you as good as new, but for now I just want you to rest and not to worry about a thing.’ Straightening up, he turned
to Lara and indicated for her to replace the light gauze dressings on Mary’s wounds. At that moment a man appeared at the entrance to the bay accompanied by Jill Bryan, one of the unit’s health support workers.

  ‘This is Mr Taylor,’ Jill explained, looking from Lara and Katie to Andres Ricardo then back to Lara again. ‘Mrs Taylor’s husband.’

  ‘Mary…’ The man would have rushed forward and possibly embraced his wife, oblivious to her injuries, but Andres restrained him with a firm hand on his arm.

  ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘She has serious burns.’

  ‘Oh, Mary.’ The man stared helplessly down at his wife who, apart from a slight flicker of her eyelashes, hardly seemed aware of his presence. ‘How in the world did this happen?’ Looking up at the staff who were present in the bay, he appealed to them. ‘Do any of you know what happened?’

  ‘Only that there was a fire in the kitchen of your home,’ Sue replied, ‘and that your wife sustained serious burns to her hands, face and arms. I’m sure you will be able to receive a fuller report from the fire officers who attended the incident.’

  ‘So what happens now?’ the man appealed helplessly.

  ‘Well, your wife will remain on the unit for some time until some of her burns have healed—the rest will require some skin grafting.’

  ‘Skin grafts!’ The man looked shocked.

  ‘Yes.’ Sue turned to Andres. ‘This is Mr Ricardo, our consultant surgeon. He will be carrying out any skin grafts that your wife may require.’

  Mr Taylor turned to Andres. ‘When will you be doing all this?’ he asked in bewilderment.

  ‘Not immediately,’ Andres replied. ‘We need to give your wife a little time to recover, but when I feel the time is right I will commence with some grafting.’

  ‘But what happens with this grafting?’ Mr Taylor still looked confused. ‘Where do you get the skin from? Does it come from someone else—like a transplant?’

  ‘No.’ Andres shook his head. ‘We take some healthy skin from another site on your wife’s body—there is much less possibility of rejection that way—possibly from her inner thigh. If that is not possible, maybe from inside her upper arm.’