So there he was, with a beautiful young woman needing his help and no way of undoing the damage that had been done, and he thought of Anna at home and her beautiful legs and how devastating it would be for her, and he felt gutted.
It was five o’clock in the morning before he finished, and he talked to the woman’s devastated parents until nearly six. Then he showered and dressed before leaving the hospital, his thoughts still with Anna.
It was hideously early—too early to go round there—but he found himself headed in that direction anyway. He just needed to see Anna, to hold her, to be with her. It had been such a bloody night, and he needed her warmth and gentleness.
He rang the doorbell, and after a moment she appeared, looking sleepy and rumpled and pleased to see him.
‘I’m sorry. I know I said I’d ring, but I just wanted to see you.’
She looked at him searchingly, understanding in her eyes. ‘Bad night?’
He nodded. He didn’t want to go into details. He wanted to leave it behind, to take her in his arms and finish what he’d started.
‘Any chocolates left?’
She smiled guiltily. ‘A few. They’re in here—I fell asleep on the settee.’
He followed her into the sitting room, lit only by the two candles which had burned almost down to the end. One was spluttering, the other not far behind.
‘Coffee?’ she offered, and he smiled wearily.
‘I’ve got a distinct feeling of déjà vu,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Perhaps I’d better have tea. Might be safer.’
‘Stay here. Eat the chocolates.’
‘I will.’ He sank wearily into a chair and helped himself. Cognac and chocolate on an empty stomach and no sleep was a lousy combination. He tried the Grand Marnier instead, and then Drambuie. No better. What he needed was sleep.
Anna came back, a tray in her hands with two gently steaming mugs, a milk jug and a pot of tea.
‘For refills,’ she explained, and he gave a tired smile.
‘Why don’t we take it upstairs to bed with the chocolates?’ he suggested.
It was a good idea—at least, in theory. In practice it was too comfortable. He drank the first mug of tea, ate one more chocolate and then fell asleep with Anna snuggled up against his chest, waiting for the next mug of tea to cool.
By the time they woke it was stone cold, the sun was streaming in through a crack in the curtains and he was due at his parents’ for lunch in less than an hour. He stared at his watch in disbelief, dropped his head back on the pillows and sighed.
‘What’s wrong?’ Anna asked sleepily, raising her head from his chest to look down into his eyes.
‘Nothing,’ Adam said. He lifted a hand to brush her hair back off her face so he could see her better. She looked wonderful—soft and warm and creased with sleep. ‘Nothing,’ he repeated more softly, and felt a great wave of tenderness sweep over him. ‘I have to go soon, but not yet. Not before I make love to you.’
He lifted himself up on one elbow, rolling her onto her back so he could touch her and see her. Her dressing gown was gaping slightly, and he eased the sides apart, his breath catching at the sight of her pale, slender body. He blew a thin stream of air over her nipples and they peaked for him, bringing a smile to his face.
‘You’re lovely,’ he said softly, and, bending his head, he kissed her.
Anna felt as if she was on an emotional roller-coaster. On the one hand, she’d had the best and most wonderful weekend of her life. On the other hand, underlying it was a deep sadness, a coming to terms with all that could never be.
How bittersweet, she thought, that when she finally met the man of her dreams, he had one fatal flaw—he couldn’t make the rest of her dreams come true. Of course, he had children, three lovely children who had already captured her heart, but it wasn’t the same as having a baby of her own.
If she stayed with Adam, if their love grew, she would never have a child of her own, would never know the joy of carrying a growing baby inside her, of suckling it at her breast, or witnessing the first tooth, the first step, the first word. It had been her expectation, as it was every woman’s expectation, that one day she’d marry and have children. Yet, if she married Adam—and it was far too soon to be thinking about that yet—that expectation would never come to fruition.
And yet, even after just one weekend, the prospect of not being with him was unthinkable. But would their love grow? Was it just lust, a mutual physical craving, an itch that needed scratching, or was it something deeper, more lasting, something that could stand the test of time?
Be patient, she told herself. Give it time to reveal itself.
But patience wasn’t her strong point, and coupled with a lack of sleep it did nothing for her temper.
‘I thought you’d just had a weekend off?’ Allie said cheerfully, looking disgustingly happy for that time of the morning.
‘I have,’ Anna told her with a wry smile. ‘I’m sorry. Am I being a grump?’
‘Only slightly drastically. Anything to do with our gorgeous new consultant?’ she added in a soft singsong voice that had colour rushing to Anna’s cheeks. Allie’s eyes widened.
‘Good grief!’ she exclaimed in a stage whisper. ‘What on earth were you two up to? I’ve never, ever seen you blush!’
‘Allie, shut up,’ Anna growled suppressively. ‘I don’t want the world to know.’
Allie cocked her head on one side and grinned. ‘So there is something to know, then?’
What was it in her face that gave her away? Whatever it was, Allie’s eyes softened and she pulled an apologetic face. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being nosy—not that you did any such thing when I first started going out with Mark…’
‘That was fair game—you’d known him for five years! I’ve only just met Adam.’
‘No,’ Allie corrected her, ‘I’d known him briefly five years ago. That’s different—and, anyway, so what? When it’s right, it’s right. I knew when I was eighteen that Mark was right for me.’
Anna put down the notes she was checking and gave Allie a wry smile. ‘Funny, isn’t it? I took one look at him, and I thought Adam was right for me. Now I’m even more sure, but—’ She broke off, unable to tell Allie the personal things Adam had revealed to her.
‘But?’
She shrugged. ‘Allie, I can’t—’
‘Is it his kids? Is the ex-wife a pain?’
‘It’s complicated,’ Anna said evasively. ‘I can’t explain. He told me things that I can’t discuss with you, Allie.’
‘He’s not still married?’ Allie asked, horrified, and Anna shook her head.
‘No. Nothing like that. Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’
And it didn’t, she told herself again a few minutes later when Adam came on to the ward. It didn’t matter at all, not compared to the joy of being with him and the love they could share.
What an astonishing discovery…
It was a difficult day. Adam was in and out of the ward—mostly out, because he was operating that morning—but when he was there and he saw Anna, it was as if the sun had come out.
He told Karl Fisher he could go home with a new cast on now that his pain had subsided, and little David Chisholm with his club foot operation had been discharged over the weekend. Tim Scully’s greenstick fracture was settling down, and he, too, was going home with a closed cast—and with strict instructions to sleep in the bottom bunk until he was more mobile!
Anna offered Adam a cup of tea before he went up to Theatre, but he didn’t have time. Today’s list was short but complicated, and he wanted to get on with it. His patients were prepped, he’d seen their parents and gone over the cases again, and now he wanted to get started.
His first case was a fourteen-year-old girl with one leg seven centimetres shorter than the other. It had been fractured across the lower growth plate of her femur when she was eight and had stopped growing, and now she was having an operation to elongate it. This involved cutting through the
thigh bone, putting an external support on the bone and turning a key every day just a fraction. As the bone tried to heal, so the gap would increase again and the bone would have to grow a little more to fill it.
And thus, if all went well, the leg would become at least nearly as long as the other one, if not the same length.
Bones, though, were easy. It was the muscles and nerves that caused more of a problem, and sometimes the pain of stretching them proved too much and treatment had to stop. Because of this, his patient had been doing lots of stretching exercises to her short leg to encourage the tissues to give in advance so that it was less of a shock to them. Hopefully, it would provide enough leeway to make a useful improvement.
Adam saw her in the anteroom, just before her an-aesthetic, and smiled at her encouragingly. ‘Hello again, Kate. All right?’
She nodded a little nervously. ‘Bit scared.’
‘I’m sure. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you. It’ll be a bit rough for a day or two, but I’m sure it will be worth it.’
He winked at her mother, who was hovering distractedly by her side and trying to be brave, and she smiled back. She was near to tears, poor woman. ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her as Kate slipped quietly into anaesthesia. ‘She’ll be all right. I’ll come and see you as soon as we’ve finished.’
It was straightforward, to his relief. He exposed the bone, making a staggered cut through it so that as it extended, the ends would still overlap, giving greater support than a straight cut through the shaft would have done. He closed the wound, attached the external fixator with the help of the X-ray machine to make sure that the alignment of the bone was good, and got her out of Theatre in a shorter time than he’d anticipated.
That was good, because the next case would be long and difficult and he was impatient to start it.
A young lad with scoliosis had been referred to him for correction of the lateral curvature of his spine. It was quite severe, and with earlier intervention could have been helped considerably, but his ribs were twisting and consequently his chest was being compromised.
And now he had to be straightened, in a two-part operation over the next few weeks. Today was the first part, and he would have a rod wired to his spine all through the length of the twisted part, and by tightening up the wires the bones could be slowly persuaded into line.
He would need fixed halo-pelvic traction afterwards to help keep the spine straight, and gradually the curve would surrender and could be straightened further in a subsequent operation.
It was tricky, and it could result in paralysis if it went wrong. Nevertheless, such complex spinal surgery was his speciality and what Adam loved to do, because it made such a difference to the mental and physical well-being of the children he treated. Success wasn’t guaranteed, though, and that kept a nice professional edge on the proceedings and added challenge.
Adam liked a challenge, and as he opened young Damian George’s spine his focus became absolute. He forgot Anna, he forgot the children—he forgot everything except the bones and muscles under his hands, and the child in his care.
Damian had been gone for hours, Anna realised. It was three o’clock, and she was due to go off duty, but she hung on, wondering how Damian was doing and cherishing a foolish hope that Adam would come onto the ward to see him.
She was in the kitchen, making a cup of tea, when he appeared behind her, coming up close and cupping his hands over her shoulders. His fingers squeezed gently in greeting.
‘Hi,’ he murmured softly.
She gave in to the urge to sink back against him for a moment, and dropped her head back against his chest. ‘Hi. How did it go?’
‘Long and slow,’ he said wearily. ‘It was worse than it looked on the X-rays. I had to trim and prune quite a lot to get the result I wanted—hopefully, it’ll pull straighter now. His ribs were pretty messy. Still, they should work better now, they’re actually free to float, or they will be.’
‘Is he here?’
‘No, he’s still in Recovery. He took quite a hammering under the anaesthetic. I just came to see my favourite nurse. Is that tea for me?’
She smiled and turned so she was facing him, with hardly the thickness of a piece of paper between them. ‘It can be. What’s it worth?’
He chuckled, his eyes glittering with intent, just as the door opened.
‘That’s enough of that—break it up. What’s going on in here?’
Anna chuckled and slid sideways out of Adam’s reach. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know? Hello, Josh. Good holiday?’
‘Wonderful.’ He buzzed her cheek with a kiss and gave Adam a thoughtful look. ‘Missed me?’
‘Not so as you’d notice. It’s actually been quite peaceful. I don’t believe you two have met—Josh, this is Adam Bradbury, the new orthopaedic consultant in paeds. Adam, meet Josh Lancaster, one of our consultant paediatricians. I thought you were due back for this morning?’ she added curiously to Josh.
‘We were. Plane was delayed—we landed at Heathrow at six this morning, and I came straight here. I’ve been in a clinic, trying to catch up, and Lissa’s taken the children home to put them to bed. No doubt they’ll be up all night.’
‘No doubt,’ Anna said with a laugh. ‘Got time for tea?’
‘I’ll make time. So, Adam, what do you think of the Audley Memorial?’
‘Well, the nursing staff are very obliging,’ he said with a slow, lazy smile, and Anna turned quickly away before Josh could catch the laughing look in her eye.
She was too slow. His curiosity aroused, he hung around, so there was no opportunity for an intimate chat with Adam. They talked about the hospital, and where Adam had been before, and then Adam put his mug in the sink, kissed her on the cheek and said softly, ‘I have to go and see Damian. I’ll ring you tonight.’
That’s blown it, she thought, and she wasn’t wrong. Josh gave her a long, thoughtful look and arched a brow enquiringly.
‘What?’ she said crisply.
He threw up his hands. ‘Nothing.’
‘It’s not nothing. I know you, Josh. If you’ve got a problem, spit it out.’ She turned to wash up Adam’s mug, her back to him.
He was harder to deter than that. He picked up a teatowel and the mug, and moved to stand beside her, his back to the worktop, just in her line of sight. Patiently he wiped the mug, and Anna gave in first.
‘Well?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘All a bit quick, isn’t it?’ he murmured. ‘He only arrived on Wednesday. Here we are, the following Monday, and he’s kissing you goodbye on the ward. It just seems a bit—I don’t know—hasty.’
She dropped the cloth into the sink and turned slowly to face him, furious.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’ she asked tightly.
He shrugged again. ‘A bit too much, too soon, perhaps?’ he offered, and she slammed her mug into the sink, sloshing water over the edge onto the floor.
‘How dare you?’ she said icily. ‘Who the hell appointed you my big brother anyway? And besides, you can talk! What about you and Lissa? The second night, wasn’t it?’
He coloured and looked away. ‘OK. Point made.’
‘Bloody good job, too. Don’t interfere, Josh. It’s none of your damn business.’
He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I was just worrying about you, Anna. You’ve been getting broody. I’ve watched you with the kids, and you’re—I don’t know. You’re desperate for a relationship, and I’d hate to see you rush into an affair with someone just to get pregnant.’
‘Is that right?’ she asked, snatching the teatowel from him and wiping out her mug with a vicious twist. ‘Well, let me tell you something, buster,’ she went on, pain welling up inside her. ‘There’s no way it’s going to happen, because he can’t get me pregnant, so you can save your breath!’
And spinning round, she put the mug and towel down on the worktop, put her face in her hands and howled.
‘Oh, Anna.’ His voice was soft, contrite, and he tu
rned her against his chest and rocked her gently while she cried. ‘Anna, I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Of course you had no idea!’ she said crossly, pushing away from him and fumbling for a tissue in her pocket.
‘Here.’
He handed her a piece of kitchen roll, and she blew her nose and wiped her eyes and glared at him again. ‘Look at me, I’m a mess. I’ve got a kid coming back from Recovery I want to settle before I go off duty, and I look as if I’ve been through the wringer.’
‘You needed that,’ he told her gently. ‘When did you find out?’
‘Friday night.’ She sniffed loudly and glared at him. ‘And I didn’t need it! For your information I’ve been doing it all weekend, every time Adam was out of sight! I thought I’d got over it, put it in perspective.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Anna, I’m so sorry. I suppose it’s too late to tell you to leave well alone?’
She scrubbed her nose on her tissue again and pulled a face. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think you’ve given him your heart, you poor, silly girl, and I just hope he knows what a treasure he’s holding in his hands.’
Damn him. It set her off again, and she got through another two sheets of kitchen roll before she managed to pull herself together. ‘How do I look?’ she asked him, and he gave a wry, apologetic smile.
‘Like hell.’
‘Thought so.’ She splashed cold water on her face, rummaged in her pocket for her rescue kit, put on a streak of lipstick and dabbed some concealer on her lower lids. ‘Better?’ she asked, shoving them back in her pocket.
‘You’ve done that before?’
She smiled ruefully. ‘Only every time I lose a child. Right, I have to go and settle Damian.’ She went to the door, then paused, her hand on the knob. ‘Josh, what I said about Adam…’
‘It won’t go anywhere. You know that.’
She smiled again. ‘Thanks. You’re a love. I’m sorry I bit your head off.’
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