by Ramsay, Anna
'None of your business.' Quickly Kate finished her stuffed peppers and peeled the top off the yoghurt pot. She wanted to get back to that German translation. 'Mike, would you pour me some water please?' She held out her empty glass.
'With the greatest of pleasure,' said Mike smoothly, and emptied the full jug down Kate's front. 'Oops, sorry!' he murmured, dabbing at her soaking chest with a paper towel.
Kate leapt to her feet. 'Grow up, Dr Filing,' she advised quietly, though inside she was absolutely seething. This was the last of her clean uniforms and she'd just have to go on wearing it. Clutching her navy cardigan in front of her, she left him to his pork chop and went back to Maynard intending to slip into the nurses' rest room, drape her wet uniform over the radiator and tuck herself away in a quiet corner. Thank goodness it was only water and would quickly dry without a trace.
'Staff!' called a voice from Sister Carter's office. 'I've had a call from one of the patients on your corridor complaining of a commotion in Room 27. Would you find out what the problem is, please?'
'Oh dear!' sighed Kate, plucking the clammy fabric away from skin. 'What's Tom done now?'
The meals trolley stood abandoned in the corridor and a well-built nurse with a scowling face and blonde-streaked hair could be seen and heard, arguing the toss with Kate's cantankerous patient.
'According to my list, Mr Galvan, you most definitely ordered vanilla ice-cream for your pudding. There's nothing down here about sherry trifle.' She sensed Kate hovering in the doorway and half turned to exchange a grimace. Having an onlooker encouraged her to try a tone of calm persuasion. 'This is Cornish ice cream. Very special. Please just try a little, Mr Galvan.'
'Take it away, and clear off. I don't want it. I did not order it.'
'Oh, for heaven's sake!' scolded Kate, who was not her even-tempered self but struggling to push her own upset to the back of her mind.
'I'll leave you to it,' muttered the other nurse out of the corner of her mouth. 'You're not the only patient on this corridor, Mr Galvan!' she added, getting in a sotto-voce last word.
Tom indicated the now melting dish of ice-cream and his face registered disgust. 'I did not order this. I'm still hungry. I want trifle.'
Kate stood with shoulders hunched, trying to disguise the accident by holding her cardigan in front of her, and in no mood for sweet talk. 'I ordered ice-cream for you,' she said flatly. 'You have a fever. Eat it. It will soothe your throat and chest.'
Tom glowered. From beneath his eyebrows he studied Nurse Wisdom's glum expression. Sometimes she struggled not to smile when he put on one of his rude impossible moods. Not this time. He tried again to make her smile, poking at the pudding dish with a fastidious forefinger. 'It's disgusting. Tastes like bone marrow!'
Sticking out a foot, Kate kicked the door shut behind her. 'I am sick to death,' she announced crossly, 'of tiresome doctors.' She stalked forward to take the plate away and as her hands reached out she dropped her cardigan.
Tom stared in fascination, blinked, and stared again. 'Hell's teeth, Kate, you're practically showing your breakfast!' His eyes gleamed beneath narrowed lids. This certainly made up for the pudding disappointment! 'Enjoy your swim?'
The white uniform had turned transparent. Kate glanced down and was mortified. Peach silk and more was now on clear and full display. 'That's Dr Filing's work,' she said tight-lipped. 'He tipped a jug of water over me.'
Tom's guffaw ricocheted off all four walls. 'Trying to cool you down, was he?'
Hugging her arms protectively across herself, Kate felt her teeth begin to chatter. 'What Mike Filing can't seem to g-grasp is that I find him completely resistible. He will not leave me alone.'
A wave of indignation swept through Tom. That little runt pestering this lovely girl! He sprang off the bed in a way he could never have managed even a few days before, reaching out with his good arm and drawing her shivering body closely against him.
As his dark shadow loomed over her, coming between her and daylight, Kate for one fleeting second felt threatened. Then she felt the protective weight of his arm and saw the kindness and concern in his eyes, the old Tom, the Tom people spoke of with such warm, affectionate admiration. She nestled against him, unable to help herself responding to his concern.
'We must get you out of these wet clothes,' he murmured, his chin grazing the top of her head. 'Put your dress on the bathroom radiator. It will dry in no time.' He let go of her and with his good hand ripped open the press studs down the front of her dress. And Kate was somehow too dazed to stop him, though the impropriety of the whole situation, a patient undressing a nurse, was too horrific to contemplate.
Her dress slid off her shoulders and Tom with a click of his tongue observed that her silken underwear was soaked right through. It was a pretty startling sight – Kate was nowhere near as skinny as she looked with her clothes on. He felt himself begin to respond, but it was easy after all these years as a doctor dealing with bodies, to stamp on inappropriate feelings within the hospital walls.
Meditatively Tom eyed the delicious sight of the practically naked Kate Wisdom. Couldn't do myself justice at the moment, Gertie darling. Though I'm bound to tell you you're in lovely condition.
Sexy underwear for a nurse to wear for work … couldn't be for his benefit, could it? A put-up job to lure a neuro-surgeon into a one-armed affair?
A corner of his mouth twisted in amusement. There was one sure way to find out.
Experimentally he placed a deliberate hand over her right breast. Kate gasped in outrage and was out of his grasp like a shot.
That was answer enough.
He grinned openly as an accusatory 'Mister Galvan!' exploded from her quivering lips. He saw her arm draw back to take aim, but he was too tall and too fast-reacting for her to reach him. Steely fingers manacled Kate's narrow wrist. And at that very moment the two of them froze as the door handle rattled and Sister Carter's voice, tinged with excitement, said, 'Here we are, Dr Diamond—Room 27. What a lovely surprise for our dear Mr Galvan!'
Chapter Seven
'Into the bathroom!'
Kate grabbed her uniform and made a dash for it.
As one door opened the other closed, and only Tom heard the click of the lock. A very worried Kate perched on the rim of the bath, her fingers gripping its cold edge. She hadn't reported to the office. Sister Carter would know she'd come on duty. But here she was, trapped in a patient's bathroom – and from the sound of it, with no chance of escape.
A heartily polite three-way conversation was underway on the other side of the door: Kate immediately recognised the television doctor's famously precise voice telling of her trans-Atlantic dash to spend just one day at Tom's bedside, to see for herself he was well and truly on the mend.
'Such a pity, Dr Diamond, that you couldn't come sooner,' said Judy Carter. Kate silently applauded. If that was my man, she told herself, wild horses wouldn't keep me away, let alone some here-today-gone-tomorrow television programme.
Since she was going to be stuck in here for heaven knows how long, she stripped everything off and spread her wet clothes along the radiator, wrapping herself in Tom's warm dry bath towel.
She put down the lid of the lavatory and perched herself on the hard surface. The awful thought struck her that Dr Diamond might well be planning to spend the rest of the day with Tom. This was a real possibility! Kate had to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a rising groan. How was his trapped nurse ever going to get out? At some point the woman would want to use the bathroom and then – exposure!
Tom knows you're in here. He'll think of something …
Sister was talking about jet-lag and a visit she'd made three years ago to her married sister in Vancouver. Diana Diamond's response sounded ever so slightly impatient. As if she couldn't wait to be left alone with Tom.
Her voice floated nearer and a rich smell of perfume seeped round the edges of the bathroom door. The same lovely scent that Olwen used. It cost a bomb. Dad used to buy i
t for his new young wife. Kate pulled the bath towel more tightly round herself and crouched there looking a bit like Rodin's statue of The Thinker, one hand propping up her chin. Dr Diamond must have walked around the bed and be over by the window. Kate could hear her reading his case notes and quizzing Sister Carter about this recent chest infection. Tom hawked pitifully and Kate tittered quietly because she knew very well he was putting on a bit of a show.
Sister agreed that yes, there had been this small setback but Tom was, of course, getting specialist care. With a first-rate nurse assigned to look after him and monitor progress.
In the bathroom the first-rate nurse pulled a wryly comical face.
'Where is this paragon, then?' Dr Diamond sounded tartly unimpressed. 'Do your nurses usually leave their clothes on the floor in patients' rooms?'
Kate gasped aloud in horror and clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted to the radiator where her bra and pants and uniform dress were sending up little wafts of steam. What could the doctor mean? Then she heard Tom calmly intervene. 'Kate's doing something rather urgent just this moment—I hope that's okay with you, Judy. I believe you asked her to come up during her lunch break, and I'm afraid I took advantage of her very kind nature.'
'I'll have to have a word with her,' said Sister Carter, 'this is not acceptable. How could her cardigan end up on the floor?'
Kate had her hands pressed tightly to her face. Tom said smoothly, 'She came back early from her lunch break and I seem to recall she'd got that thing over her shoulders. Must have slipped off when she tidied my pillows and helped me back into bed.'
Well done, Tom, that was a close one!
Kate sighed with relief. Now no one would be wondering where she'd got to. Not for a while at any rate.
Kate would dearly have liked to open the door an inch or two and get a peep at Diana Diamond, but it was too risky – she'd be heard. She'd just have to rely on her imagination.
On TV Diana always wore the same outfit: narrow white trousers, white dentist-style jacket with a Nehru collar, and jazzy size three shoes with the highest of heels to boost her height and show off her tiny feet. This unvarying style had clearly been designed to be time- saving for the presenter, yet suitably professional. At the close of each programme she would perch on a stool and like the best of teachers sum up for her audience the essence of what had gone before, emphasising points with her hands, one spikey heel hooked over the rung of her stool, beautifully-cut hair tinted bonfire red and her face the face of a Star.
With an effort Kate pulled herself out of her reverie. It was uncomfortable to be eavesdropping, but how else was she to know when it came, her chance to escape. She must stay on the alert, however drowsymaking the bathroom's heat.
Something was different. The voices were quieter, more intimate … murmurings and rustling silences. Sister had gone at last, leaving Tom and Diana alone together. And it didn't take too much imagination to picture what was going on now as the two of them made up for lost time.
'I'll lock the door,' she heard Diana say.
Oh no, oh please no. Now I'm doubly shut in! Kate hugged herself with embarrassment. Tom knew his 'first-rate nurse' was only few feet away. He'd be killing himself laughing, knowing her predicament. He had a very warped sense of humour, in Kate's opinion.
'I'm not going to listen, I'm not, I'm not.'
In her mind, Kate talked busily to herself, rapidly listing in her head all the tasks she must get through as soon she escaped from the hot little bathroom.
'Pity you wrecked the Lamborghini. I was fond of that car – I suppose it's a total write-off?'
'Total.'
'Got anything in mind for the replacement?'
'No.' He sounded impatient. There was a long pause which had Kate biting her lips as she tried not to move a muscle or make the smallest sound. She heard Tom cough and Diana say, 'Hope you're not giving me this virus thing you've got. I shouldn't be on your bed with my shoes on, should I. Too late now anyway!' she added with a short laugh.
'You'll stay at the flat tonight.' That was Tom, his voice intimate and caressing.'
'If it's okay with you. Anything you want me to bring over? Books, music CDs, clean pyjamas? That's a thought, have you got any, I've never seen you wear them!'
'I keep them for special occasions,' he teased.
Another pause, a brief one. Kate heard the doctor ask how he was getting his washing done. Tom sounded surprised. As well he might, because Kate had two pairs of his washed and ironed pyjamas in her airing cupboard. 'Hadn't given it a thought. Seems to be doing itself.'
A tentative knock interrupted the discussion. Diana's voice muttered, 'Damn!' Then, 'Hold on a minute.'
She must be unlocking the door again.
'Ooh sorry!' apologised a delighted-looking nurse, goggling at Dr Diamond. 'I was wondering, Mr Galvan, if you could tell me where I can find Kate.'
'Well as you can see, she's not here.' There was a teasing gleam in Galvan's eye as he guessed the true purpose of the interruption. 'Anything else we can help you with, Nurse? Don't be afraid to ask.'
'It's a frightful cheek, I know, Mr Galvan, but I was wondering if Dr Diamond would give me her autograph.'
'Dr Diamond's autograph? Don't you want mine?'
The nurse giggled and blushingly admitted, 'Well, Mr Galvan, you are pretty famous around these parts, but—er—'
Diana put a stop to Tom's teasing. 'I'd be delighted. Now what am I to write on? Oh, you've got my new book, how sweet of you. I generally put, “Wishing you the Best of Health”—what's your name? … Tanya. There you are, Tanya.'
'Wow! Cool! Thanks, Dr Diamond!'
Kate heard the door close, and the sound of Tom's amused voice. 'Come here and give me a cuddle, my little pocket Venus.'
Kate put her hands over her ears, blocking out the small intimate noises. Then she heard Diana say something about putting her roses in water. 'Isn't the colour glorious? Reminds me of the evening sun in Provence and that wonderful time we had last August. I'll see if there's a vase in your bathroom.'
The voice that unflinchingly revealed to the nation the most intimate workings of the human body was now inches away from Kate's startled ear. She could see the door handle move!
'Funny, it seems to be locked.'
'Darling, do leave those for the nurse. Give the girl something to do, for heaven's sake – there's little enough to keep her busy as it is.'
'I hope she's fair, fat and forty. I know what you are, Tom Galvan.'
Kate exhaled in relief as Diana moved away from the door. She grabbed her clothes and put them on fast. Again there was a creak of bedsprings as Diana sat down. She was checking Tom's recent surgery, examining the plastered arm, asking questions, taking his pulse—very much the professional doctor. When did he think he would be back in business? He must have been terribly depressed? Was there any loss of feeling in the hand or fingers? Then apparently having satisfied herself that no lasting damage had been sustained, Diana reverted to a sexually teasing intimacy. 'How much have you missed me?' Her voice was muffled and beguiling, and Kate squirmed and bit her lips as Tom joined in with totally inconsiderate gusto, teasing Diana about her exploits in the USA.
'We're both adults, aren't we?' murmured Diana provocatively. 'What the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over … we've never pretended to be saints. Ouch, Tom Galvan, you know how easily I bruise! Look, when is this nurse of yours coming back? I want to have a word with her about you. In private. Stop it… and mind those roses!'
Tom had a brainwave. 'Why don't you look in the sluice? Isn't that where vases are kept?'
As soon as she heard 27's door open Kate was out in a flash. She glared at Tom who was lying there grinning and looking mighty pleased with himself, and fled down to the office to report herself late on duty.
'Mr Galvan has a visitor,' beamed Sister Carter, 'his lady friend, Dr Diana Diamond. Now Kate, I've told her what a splendid job you've been doing. Perhaps you've
already seen her?'
'No, Sister,' said Kate truthfully.
'Then I'm sure you would like to go and introduce yourself. Oh and by the way, you left your cardigan in Mr Galvan's room. You really mustn't. It looks careless and sloppy.'
'Yes, Sister. Sorry Sister.''
Better get it over with, thought Kate resignedly. She'd got cramp in her legs and her head throbbed. This was turning into the most difficult day. At least she could escape and help with the other patients, now Tom had his own private doctor with him.
It had hit home, what he'd said to Dr Diamond – that there was little in his care and treatment to occupy a full-time nurse. Soon he'd be discharged, and she would leave the Maynard Wing, be moved yet again, a stopgap nurse on the achingly busy hospital wards. But you never knew. Perhaps this time with a permanent contract under her staff nurse's belt.
Conscious that her heart was thumping quite ridiculously at the prospect of coming face to face with Tom Galvan's woman, Kate slipped into the cloakroom and did a few deep-breathing exercises.
The face in the mirror looked back at her gravely, ivory- pale, with that tranquil mouth and those melting dark eyes. Why did she feel so different on the inside to how she looked on the outside? She pinched her cheeks to give herself a bit of colour. Next to Diana she resembled a washed-out shadow.
Thank goodness her clothes were dry. Her dress even felt a better fit, as if it had shrunk a bit on the radiator. She knocked and went in.
There was Tom, enthroned among his pillows like a sultan in his boudoir awaiting homage. A vase of golden roses had been placed on the cupboard by the television set. In his chair sat a small vivid figure in a cleavage-flashing cerise-pink silk shirt and short black Lycra skirt, black tights setting off toned muscular legs which when in town pounded Hyde Park three times a week in the company of a personal trainer. Size three pink suede Louboutins were resting on the bed. Kate could see their red soles were almost brand new.
This was awkward. She ought to tell the visitor to get her feet off the patient's bed.
