Mistletoe Proposal on the Children's Ward

by Kate Hardy

  ‘So what are you going to do? Sew it back together?’ Michael asked.

  Jamie shook his head. ‘I’ll need to graft new tissue. What I’ll do is remove the torn ligament and replace it with a bit of your patellar tendon—that’s the tendon that attaches the bottom of your kneecap to the top of your shinbone.’

  ‘And that will definitely fix it?’

  ‘Provided you don’t have damage to the cartilage that I can’t see on the scan—I’ll only be able to see that when I look inside your knee,’ Jamie said.

  Michael took a deep breath. ‘All right. Will I have to stay in hospital?’

  ‘Overnight, yes,’ Jamie said. ‘I’m going to do keyhole surgery. It’ll take about an hour and a half, maybe a bit more, depending on how much damage I need to fix. And it’s up to you whether you’d rather have a general anaesthetic so you’re asleep throughout the whole thing, or if you want a spinal block so you’ll be conscious during the actual operation and you’ll know what’s going on around you but you won’t feel any pain.’

  Michael looked nervous. ‘I... Can I choose on the day?’

  ‘The day before might be better,’ Jamie said. ‘And I think your dad needs to come in now, so I can talk you both through exactly what I’m going to do.’

  ‘He’s going to be so disappointed in me,’ Michael said again.

  ‘More like he’s going to be worrying himself sick out there, wanting to know if you’ll be all right,’ Anna said gently.

  Michael shook his head. ‘If I wasn’t any good at football, he wouldn’t bother with me. He doesn’t bother with my sister. All he cares about is—’ He stopped abruptly.

  Football? Anna wondered. But it wasn’t her place to judge. ‘OK,’ she said, then went to the door and called Michael’s father in.

  ‘So when can he play again?’ Mr Jeffries asked.

  Nothing about whether Michael would be out of pain or what he could do to help his son, Anna noticed. This was a man whose priorities were very different from what her own would’ve been.

  ‘He can play again when he’s recovered properly,’ Jamie said crisply, ‘and that depends on how much damage there is to the cartilage, which I’ll only be able to see when I operate. The important thing is that he’s going to be out of pain.’

  Mr Jeffries’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes.’

  Had Michael not let slip that comment about his sister, Anna would’ve thought that maybe his father was worried about how Michael would cope with having to wait until he could play again, because football was the boy’s big passion. But now she wondered how much Michael really loved football for its own sake, and how much of it was a way of trying to connect with his father.

  ‘We asked you to come in,’ she said, ‘so Mr Thurston could explain the operation to you both. If you have any questions about the best way to support your son’s recovery, we’ll be very happy to help.’

  Mr Jeffries looked at her as if she was merely a decoration.

  This wasn’t about her, but she didn’t appreciate his attitude. If he treated any of her team like that, she’d be having a stern word with him about the hospital’s zero tolerance policy.

  ‘I’m going to use a thin, flexible tube called an arthroscope,’ Jamie explained. ‘It has fibre optic cables inside so it acts as both a camera and a light, to show me your knee joint. I’ll examine the inside of your knee and repair any damage to the cartilage. It’ll confirm that your ACL is torn, Michael, so then I’ll remove the graft tissue and cut it to the right size.’

  ‘Where does the graft tissue come from?’ Mr Jeffries asked.

  ‘From the tendon that attaches his shinbone to his kneecap,’ Jamie said.

  ‘Why can’t he just have physiotherapy? Surgery means he’s going to be out of the team for months.’ Mr Jeffries started at Jamie. ‘He might lose his place at the football academy.’

  ‘Physiotherapy on its own isn’t enough. Michael’s anterior cruciate ligament is badly torn, and that means he needs surgery to stabilise his knee,’ Jamie explained patiently. ‘Without it he’ll be in considerable pain—and playing football will be completely out of the question.’

  Mr Jeffries didn’t look happy, but said nothing.

  ‘Once I’ve removed your torn ligament, Michael, I’ll make a tunnel in your bone to pass the new tissue through, and then I’ll screw the graft tissue in place—it’ll act as a scaffold for the new ligament to grow across, and will stay in your knee permanently. Once I’m happy it’s strong enough to hold your knee together, it’s stable and you’ve got the full range of movement in your knee, then I’ll sew you up, put on a dressing and let you recover. And then, if you’ve chosen to have a general anaesthetic rather than a spinal block, we’ll wake you up.’

  ‘I think,’ Michael said, ‘I’d rather be asleep during the operation.’

  ‘That’s fine. And it’s fine to change your mind if you think about it and then decide you’d rather be awake,’ Jamie said. ‘I’ll use dissolvable stitches, so they’ll disappear after about three weeks and you won’t have to come back to have them removed.’ He flicked a glance at Mr Jeffries, who remained utterly silent.

  ‘Your knee will be a bit swollen and bruised for the first week and it will hurt,’ Jamie continued, ‘but we’ll give you painkillers to help with that, and give you a special bandage that has iced water inside so it will help with the swelling. We’ll give you some exercises to start off your recovery, and it’s a good idea to use crutches for the first couple of weeks. Then you’ll need to keep up with your physio for the next six months.’

  ‘And then he can start playing?’ Mr Jeffries demanded.

  ‘That,’ Jamie said, ‘depends on how he heals. Everyone’s different. I’d be guided by what the physio says.’

  Mr Jeffries rolled his eyes. ‘A couple of sports massages will sort it out.’

  ‘I think you’ll find,’ Anna said, ‘that any coach and any therapist will take the same view as the surgeon. Michael’s health comes first. If he goes back too early, he’ll set his progress back and risk never being able to play again.’

  Mr Jeffries gave her a look of contempt. ‘And you know much about sport, do you?’

  ‘I know a little bit about medicine,’ Anna said lightly. She wasn’t giving this rude, arrogant man the satisfaction of arguing with him.

  ‘Just to reassure you, Mr Jeffries,’ Jamie said, ‘Dr Maskell is a highly experienced senior doctor. She’s one step down from being a consultant.’

  ‘But if you’d rather have a second opinion on Michael’s treatment from the head of the department,’ Anna said, ‘I’m very happy to go and find him for you.’ Robert would be all charm—but he’d also put this man totally in his place and make it clear that their patient’s needs came way, way before anything else. And Anna really regretted her impulse to call Mr Jeffries in to support Michael. She understood now why Michael hadn’t wanted his father there. The man wasn’t in the least bit supportive.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Mr Jeffries snapped.

  ‘Good,’ Jamie said coolly. ‘Michael, I can get you on my list for Wednesday.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Once they’d gone, Anna turned to Jamie. ‘Thanks for sticking up for me.’

  ‘It was the least I could do. What an idiot.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘If he gives anyone on the ward any trouble, let me know.’

  ‘Thanks. Though I think we’d all just ignore him and concentrate on Michael.’

  ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll just finish my notes, then we’ll see the next patient on our list.’

  * * *

  The rest of the day flew by. Anna was late getting home but had just enough time to put on a red velvet skater dress, high heels and make-up before heading to the pub where the department’s Christmas meal was being held. She had a quiet word with the manager about the music, check
ed that everything else was ready for them, and then they were good to go.

  Once everyone was sitting down—Jamie was next to her—and had pulled their cracker, put on their paper hat and read out the terrible jokes, the meal was served. And once everyone had eaten and was enjoying coffee and petits fours, Robert excused himself for a moment and returned wearing the Father Christmas outfit and holding a large sack marked ‘Swag’. ‘Ho-ho-ho,’ he boomed. ‘This is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Have you all been good, boys and girls?’

  * * *

  Jamie was surprised at how much he was enjoying the evening. The food was as good as Anna had promised, and he was relieved to discover it was just a meal with no dancing. There was Christmas music playing in the background, but the chatter blocked it out, and he had a feeling that Anna might just have had a word with whoever was in charge of the music because he’d been on tenterhooks, waiting for That Song, and it didn’t arrive.

  He’d made the effort to chat to the rest of the people he was sitting with, and it really felt as if he fitted in. Somehow, in only three short weeks, he’d managed to become as much a part of the team as he had at the hospital in south London where he’d trained and worked until three years ago. Though he had a feeling that the reason he felt so much part of it was because Anna was there.

  Robert took the parcels from the sack and dished them out in turn, waiting for the recipient to open it before moving on to the next one. Jamie had drawn Keely’s name; because he didn’t know her well, he’d played it safe with a set of shower gel and body butter, which had been beautifully wrapped by the shop where he’d bought it. He’d been given what he recognised as a safe gift, too: a box of mixed milk, dark and white chocolates, which he intended to share.

  Other people were given more personal gifts. Whoever had drawn Anna’s name had bought her a clipboard and customised it with ‘Ward Social Organiser Supremo’ in sparkly letters on one side, and a picture of George Michael and a goldfish on the other, which had her in fits of laughter; though it also came with a jar of very posh chocolate flakes to stir into hot milk, which he knew she’d love. Jamie thoroughly enjoyed watching everyone’s reactions to their gifts, and then the hubbub of chatter afterwards.

  At the end of the evening, he walked Anna home. ‘Thank you for nagging me into doing this tonight,’ he said. ‘You’re right. It was a lot of fun.’ And he really hadn’t expected to have such a good time.

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘And also I wanted to tell you I’m meeting up with my family tomorrow,’ he told her.

  She blinked. ‘So you’ve talked to them since you texted them, the other day?’

  He nodded. ‘Shelley—my oldest sister—called me and invited me to dinner tomorrow night. It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti and garlic bread and ice cream, and my niece Layla’s going to make choc-chip cookies. And on Sunday I’m going to see Hestia’s family for lunch.’

  ‘That’s fabulous,’ she said, looking pleased.

  He almost—almost—asked her to go with him.

  But that wouldn’t be fair. He needed to fix things with his family and Hestia’s first. Plus he and Anna had agreed to take things slowly. He couldn’t rush her into making their Christmas deal more than just friendship.

  Baby steps, he reminded himself.

  Though he could still kiss her goodnight on her doorstep. And funny how right it felt to have her in his arms, her mouth soft and sweet against his. He almost wished there had been dancing at the ward’s Christmas meal so he could hold her close and sway with her.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Have a good time with your family,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you. What about you—what are you up to at the weekend?’ he asked.

  ‘Sunday lunch at my parents’ place,’ she said, ‘and no doubt a dress rehearsal for next week’s Christmas concert.’ Her face was full of glee. ‘I can’t wait. Though I’ll be working for it tomorrow, with a whole week’s worth of laundry and ironing to do...’

  * * *

  Seeing his sister wasn’t as awkward as Jamie had expected. There were no recriminations, no over-the-top reunion to make him feel like the prodigal brother: just a hug and dinner. He caught up with his brother-in-law Alex, and had long conversations with Dylan and Layla, who shyly talked to him about their love of space and baking respectively.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Jamie said to Shelley in the kitchen when he was helping her clear away after dinner. ‘I’ve missed out on so much of their growing up. Dylan and Layla have changed massively over last three years. I really haven’t been fair to you.’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about the past, just go forward,’ Shelley said gently. ‘The main thing is that you’re getting to a better place now.’

  ‘I am.’ He told her all about his job at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital.

  ‘It sounds as if you’ve really settled in.’

  He nodded. ‘I could be tempted to stay for the whole of Nalini’s maternity leave, not just the three months we agreed to.’

  ‘Do it, if you’re happy,’ Shelley said.

  At the end of the evening, they agreed to do it again the following weekend—but this time with their parents and their middle sister there as well.

  Back at his flat, Jamie looked at the photograph of Hestia on his screen-saver. It was his favourite photograph of her, a shot taken by a magazine of her performing as the Sugar Plum Fairy at Covent Garden, mid-pirouette with her arms gracefully above her head.

  ‘I’m starting to move on, Hes,’ he said softly. ‘It doesn’t mean I’m cutting you out of my life or pretending you never existed, but I know how cross you’d be with me for locking myself out of the world.’ He paused. ‘You’d like Anna. She’s bright and sparkly, like the star on the top of the Christmas tree. I think she and I might be good for each other.’

  Seeing Hestia’s family on the Sunday, too, went better than he’d expected. It felt as if finally the misery of the last three years was starting to lose its sting and there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

  Anna Maskell had made a huge difference to his life.

  He hoped that he might be able to make the same kind of difference to hers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JAMIE AND ANNA were on different shifts on Monday, so he didn’t get to see her. But on Tuesday morning they were in clinic together, and their first patient was a week-old baby with talipes, a congenital condition where both feet pointed downwards and inwards with the soles of the feet facing each other.

  ‘We’ve never had anything like this in either of our families,’ Kirsty Peters, the mum, said. She bit her lip. ‘The obstetrician said it wasn’t anything I did wrong when I was pregnant, but I can’t help thinking I must’ve done, and I hate it that Willow’s in pain.’

  ‘She’s not in pain,’ Anna reassured her, ‘and you definitely didn’t do anything wrong—in most cases we don’t know what causes it.’

  ‘The obstetrician said Willow would have to have an operation,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘It’s not quite as scary as it sounds,’ Jamie said. ‘Years ago, surgeons used to operate to correct talipes, but it wasn’t that effective and it led to problems when the babies grew up. Nowadays we use something called the Ponseti method. What that means is that we’ll move and stretch Willow’s feet until they’re in a better position, then put her feet in plaster casts—that gives her muscles and ligaments a chance to relax and it means the bones grow into the right position. We’ll see her every week to soak the casts off in a bath, move her feet again, and redo the casts. It usually takes about six changes of cast until her feet will be in the right position, and then we’ll do the operation to release her Achilles tendons. It’s really minor—we’ll do it under a local anaesthetic so she’ll be awake and you won’t have to worry q
uite so much. Then we’ll put the last casts on, and three weeks later we’ll take them off.’

  ‘Casts.’ Kirsty looked anxious. ‘She’s a week old today.’

  ‘And she’s beautiful,’ Jamie said. ‘I know it’s daunting, but this is the best way to help her.’

  ‘You need to keep the casts dry,’ Anna said, ‘so you’ll need to top-and-tail her rather than bath her while the casts are on. But other than that, the casts won’t affect Willow’s development in any way. You can do everything else that people normally do with babies.’

  ‘Once we’ve taken off the final casts,’ Jamie said, ‘we’ll give her special boots to wear. They’re joined together with a bar, and she’ll need to wear them all the time for the next three months, except when she’s in the bath, to make sure her feet stay in the right position.’

  ‘And she won’t have to wear them any more after that?’ Kirsty asked.

  ‘Not all day,’ Anna explained, ‘but she will need to wear them at night until she’s four.’

  ‘Until she’s four?’ Kirsty looked horrified.

  ‘It’ll be normal for her, because she won’t remember anything else,’ Jamie reassured her. ‘But it’s really effective and it means her feet will develop completely normally—she won’t need an operation.’

  ‘I never even had a broken arm as a kid,’ Kirsty said. ‘To be honest, this whole thing...’ She grimaced. ‘I wish I’d asked my mum to come with me.’

  ‘The first time’s all going to be new for you,’ Anna said, ‘and the unknown is always scary. Next time, you’ll know what to expect from the appointment, so it won’t be so bad. You can keep cuddling Willow while we do the casts, and sometimes it helps to feed a baby while we’re doing the manipulation, to distract them a bit.’ She smiled. ‘Talk to her, sing her a song—I’ll sing with you, if that will help.’

  Jamie discovered that not only did Anna sing beautifully, she knew a lot of lullabies. Clearly she’d practised them on her nieces, nephews and godchildren. He remembered then she’d said that she brought her guitar in to sing Christmas songs on the ward.