‘His actual name is Kennie Vernon,’ Megan replied, ‘but he’s known as Vermin for a very good reason. Not only does he work on the principle of never letting the truth get in the way of a good story, he’s also the man who told the world—or at least the St Piran and Penhally part of it—that Jess has—’
The paediatric specialist registrar came to a sudden, red-cheeked halt, clearly deeply mortified by what she had almost said, and Connor glanced from her to Brianna, his eyebrows raised.
‘Jess Corezzi has what?’ he asked, and saw Brianna grimace.
‘She has HIV, Connor,’ she said in a low undertone. ‘And before you say anything—’
‘All I was going to say was, so what?’ he replied, and Brianna sighed.
‘Unfortunately that wasn’t most people’s reaction when Vernon splashed her condition all over the front page of the Penhally Gazette. I will never, ever forgive him for the way he crucified her, Connor, and for Admin to think I’d be willing to even be in the same room as that man, far less give him an interview.’
‘Look, would it help if I sat in with you?’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t interfere, I promise I wouldn’t,’ he added as Brianna began to shake her head, ‘but I do have a lot of experience in dealing with the press through my work, and, whether you like it or not, Admin is right. The more press exposure the hospital can generate about this baby, the better.’
Megan caught Brianna’s gaze.
‘He’s right,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I know you don’t want to do it—I wouldn’t want to either—but if Connor is there as back-up…?’
‘I don’t need back-up,’ Brianna said, annoyance plain in her voice. ‘I’m a big girl. I don’t need my hand held.’
‘No one is suggesting you do,’ Connor said gently. ‘But don’t ever underestimate the press, Brianna, and sometimes two heads are better than one when it comes to dealing with the enemy.’
For a moment Brianna said nothing, then she let out a small, grudging sigh.
‘OK. All right. I’ll do it. Where is the little toad?’
Megan grinned.
‘I told him to wait outside in the corridor. I also made him thoroughly scrub and disinfect his hands. He wasn’t very happy about either.’
‘Good,’ Brianna declared. ‘OK, Connor, let’s you and I go and slaughter the little jumped-up slimeball.’
Wrong, Brianna, Connor thought as he followed her out of the ward and he saw the man waiting for them at the end of the corridor. Kennie Vernon might look like a refugee from a very bad eighties pop video, with his goatee beard and ponytail, but the muddy brown eyes that watched them walking towards him were calculating and shrewd. This was not a man to underestimate. This was a man who would use anyone, and anything, to get himself out of the Penhally Gazette and into one of the big London newspapers, and Connor instinctively moved closed to his wife.
‘Sister Flannigan,’ Kennie declared with a smile that was every bit as false as the replica Rolex on his wrist. ‘How very pleasant to meet you.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t the say the same,’ she replied. ‘I’m not that big a hypocrite.’
Kennie’s smile didn’t slip at all as he transferred his gaze to Connor.
‘And you are…?’
‘He’s.’ Brianna came to a dead halt. How on earth was she supposed to introduce Connor? If she said he was her husband, Vermin would dig deeper, and if she said Connor was an auditor, that would give the reporter an even bigger story for the Penhally Gazette. ‘He’s—’
‘Connor Monahan. Sister Flannigan’s PR adviser,’ Connor announced, and it wasn’t only Brianna’s jaw that dropped.
‘You have a public relations adviser?’ Kennie said to Brianna, but again it was Connor who answered.
‘Naturally,’ he said, in a tone that suggested only complete losers didn’t. ‘Now, I’m sure you don’t want to conduct this interview in a corridor,’ he continued, ‘so shall we adjourn to my office?’
He opened the door of the nurse unit manager’s office pointedly, and Kennie Vernon walked into it without a word, but as Connor made to follow him, Brianna caught hold of his arm.
‘Why the hell did you say that?’ she hissed. ‘About you being my PR adviser?’
Connor shrugged. ‘I had a sort of flash of inspiration.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she replied. ‘Well, try not to have too many more of them, OK?’
And he smiled. A smile that made her heart clench because it suddenly transported her right back to that night in Killarney when her eyes had met his over the crowded dance floor. She’d known immediately that he wasn’t local, and so had all the other girls.
‘He’s here on holiday,’ someone had whispered. ‘From Dublin.’
And her friends had all giggled, and nudged one another, because, to them, Dublin was somewhere exotic, somewhere exciting. He’d looked so out of place in the village hall, dressed in his crisp white shirt, blue tie and smart black trousers, while all the other young men had been wearing jeans and T-shirts, but when he hadn’t reacted to her friends’ giggles, or their fluttering eyelashes, they’d all muttered, ‘Stuck-up prat,’ and dismissed him, but she’d hadn’t.
She’d kept sneaking curious glances at him, and his eyes had eventually met hers, and he’d smiled. The same half crooked, half self-deprecating, smile he was smiling now, and she hadn’t seen that smile in such a long time.
‘What?’ he asked as she stared up at him, and she shook her head.
‘Nothing. It’s…nothing.’
But it was, she thought as she went into the nurse unit manager’s office. It was a painful reminder of how she’d once felt about the man at her side. A bitter-sweet reminder that she’d once loved him more than life, and had thought nothing would ever separate them.
‘I understand Jessica Corezzi was with you when you found this baby? ‘ Kennie declared, sitting down and instantly flipping open his notebook, pen poised.
‘Yes, she was,’ Brianna replied, deliberately remaining standing.
‘She married a consultant at the hospital recently, didn’t she? ‘ Kennie murmured. ‘Which is somewhat surprising given the circumstances.’
Because Jess has HIV, Brianna thought angrily. That’s what you’re saying, you horrible little man. That you’re amazed she could actually find someone willing to marry her, and she wasn’t about to let him get away with that.
‘Now, just one minute,’ she began, only to pause when Connor shook his head warningly at her.
‘Both Jess Corezzi and Sister Flannigan found the baby together,’ Connor said smoothly, ‘but, unfortunately, neither of them saw the mother. Or the father, come to that,’ he added with a smile. ‘After all, why be sexist, why assume it was the mother who left the baby there?’
‘Right.’ Kennie Vernon nodded, looking slightly bemused, but he wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. ‘It’s strange, don’t you think, Sister Flannigan, that the baby should be found in the consultants’ car park?’
‘Strange?’ she repeated, puzzled. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘I was just wondering whether the unfortunate mother might perhaps have had a relationship with one of the consultants in the hospital,’ Kennie said, ‘and she left the baby where he would find it because he’d dumped her.’
And you know exactly whose car little Harry was found next to, Brianna thought furiously. It was Gio Corezzi’s car. Jess’s husband.
‘Mr Vernon,’ she began, but Connor cut across her again.
‘I fear you may have been reading far too many trashy novelettes, Mr Vernon,’ he drawled. ‘Surely the most plausible explanation is that the mother left her baby in that particular car park because it was the furthest from the road and she wanted to ensure her child didn’t become…’ He frowned in apparent concentration. ‘Now, what’s the word I’m looking for. Ah, yes. Road kill.’
Road kill? Brianna thought, shooting her husband an appalled glance, and could almost have sworn
she saw him wink back at her.
‘I think the term you were searching for, Mr Monahan, is road fatality,’ Kennie Vernon said stiffly, then flipped over a page of his notebook. ‘Colour of hair and eyes of this child, and does he have any distinguishing features like a birthmark or a mole?’
‘Harry has black hair, and blue eyes,’ Brianna replied, ‘but no birthmarks or moles.’
‘Harry? ‘
‘We didn’t want to keep calling him Baby X,’ Brianna replied uncomfortably, ‘so we decided to name him Harry until his mother comes forward.’
‘I’d like to take a photograph—’
‘No, absolutely not,’ Brianna interrupted. ‘I can take a photograph of him for your newspaper if you want one, but I cannot allow you into the ward because of the risk of infection.’
Kennie leant back in his seat, and smiled at her with a smile she did not care for.
‘Are you always this obstructive, Sister Flannigan?’ he asked, and she saw Connor move forward a step.
‘Sister Flannigan is merely stating hospital policy,’ her husband replied in a tone that suggested arguing would be most unwise, but that did not prevent the reporter from trying.
‘I’d like to remind both of you of the rights of the press—’
‘Which I do not think would ever include endangering the life of a very vulnerable baby,’ Connor declared.
‘But—’
‘You could, of course, apply for a court order,’ Connor continued smoothly, ‘but I think that would be…unwise. Unless you wish to be front-page news yourself for harassing a minor?’
Kennie shot Connor a look that was positively venomous, then snapped his notebook shut.
‘Thank you for your time,’ he said as he stood up. ‘That will be all.’
‘No, it won’t.’ Brianna sighed as the reporter strode out the office without a backward glance. ‘He’ll be back.’
‘Undoubtedly,’ Connor agreed. ‘But round one to us, I think.’
‘I’m just very glad you were on my side,’ Brianna said with feeling, and Connor smiled, a slightly lopsided smile.
‘I always was, I always will be,’ he said simply.
There was no answer to that except one, which she knew would hurt him immeasurably, so she opted to change the subject.
‘Road kill, Connor?’ she said as she led the way into the corridor. ‘Road kill?’
‘I had a momentary memory lapse, couldn’t remember the correct phrase.’ He grinned, and she shook her head at him and chuckled.
‘Yeah, right,’ she said. ‘And like I would ever believe that. You never forget anything.’
‘Except, it seems, the things that really matter,’ he murmured.
His eyes were troubled, but what could she say to him when she knew he’d spoken the truth?
‘Have you seen our graduation board?’ she asked, trying to change the subject.
‘Your what? ‘ he said with an effort, and she pointed to the board on the corridor wall, which was covered with baby pictures.
‘It started shortly after the unit was opened,’ she said. ‘Parents of babies who had left the unit, gone home, began putting up pictures of their children to give other parents encouragement, to let them see there was light at the end of the tunnel, and it sort of snowballed.’
He grimaced slightly. ‘I see. Brianna—’
‘Hands,’ she said. ‘If you’re going back into the ward you need to thoroughly scrub and disinfect your hands.’
‘Oh. Right. Sorry,’ he replied, but after he’d thoroughly scrubbed his hands, and she had, too, he turned to her uncertainly. ‘How can you bear to work here after losing Harry? Don’t you find it incredibly stressful to be constantly surrounded by very ill babies?’
‘It can certainly be challenging, and upsetting at times,’ she agreed as she pushed open the ward door, ‘but…you see…with Harry…’ She took a steadying breath. ‘There was nothing I could do, nothing anyone would let me do, but working as a nurse in here, I know there are times when I can make a difference, times when my skills matter, and I can help.’
‘Yes, but even so, don’t you—?’
‘Oh, hell.’
For a second, Connor was completely bewildered by her exclamation, but as he looked past her, into the ward, he saw what she had. Megan was standing at the top of the ward, her eyes fixed firmly on one of the monitors, while Josh was ostensibly deeply in conversation with Mr Brooke, but only a fool wouldn’t have noticed that the A and E consultant’s eyes kept darting in the direction of the paediatric specialist registrar.
‘What gives between those two? ‘ Connor asked in an undertone. ‘Every time they meet I swear Megan’s back couldn’t get any stiffer if she had a poker strapped to it, and yet Josh constantly seems to be trying to gain her attention.’
‘It’s none of my business,’ Brianna replied firmly, ‘or yours.’
‘Fair point,’ Connor conceded, ‘but it’s odd.’
It was odd, Brianna thought as Mr Brooke bore Connor off to interview some of the nurses in Gynae, and she saw Josh make an attempt to talk to Megan, an attempt she very quickly rebuffed. Normally, Josh didn’t seek Megan out. They might occasionally meet because of their work, but he had never actively attempted to get her to talk to him so this was different, and puzzling.
‘You OK? ‘ she said to Megan when Josh finally left.
The paediatric specialist registrar faked a smile.
‘Shouldn’t that be my question?’ she said. ‘After all, you were the one who was being interviewed by horrible Vermin, so how did it go?’
Which was as neat a way as any of avoiding answering, Brianna thought, but who was she to point the finger?
‘He was his usual obnoxious self,’ she said, ‘but Connor took no prisoners.’
Megan nodded.
‘Connor…’ she began carefully ‘…he seems…nice. Maybe a bit of a statistic obsessive—’
‘A bit?’
‘OK, a lot,’ Megan agreed with a small chuckle, then her face grew serious. ‘Look, Brianna, I guess, what I’m trying to say—very badly—is, if you want to—you know—talk at any time, I’m a good listener.’
‘Me, too, if you ever want to talk—you know—about Josh,’ Brianna replied.
‘Yeah, well, Josh and I…’ Megan gave a dismissive smile that didn’t fool Brianna for a second. ‘That ship sailed a long time ago.’
Had Connor and her ship sailed, too? Brianna wondered as the rest of the day sped by in a round of obs, X-rays and scans. She didn’t know, but neither did she want to answer the other question of whether she actually wanted to still be on board.
But it was a question that wasn’t going to go away, she realised when her shift ended, and she drove home to find Connor’s Range Rover already parked outside her house. It was a question she was ultimately going to have to face, but not now, she decided as she got out of her car, grabbed her jacket, and determinedly took the rocky path that led down to the beach.
Except the walk had been a very bad idea, she realised when she reached the shore and recognised a familiar figure standing there, gazing out to sea. A figure who saw her just as soon as she saw him, giving her no chance to slip away.
‘I thought I’d get some air,’ he said as she slowly walked towards him.
‘Me, too,’ she replied. ‘I often walk here after work. I find it helps if…’ She had been going to say, ‘If I’m stressed,’ but that didn’t seem the kindest thing to say in the circumstances. ‘I find it clears away the cobwebs.’
A bracing March wind was blowing across the beach, whipping the slate-grey sea into frothy white breakers, and sending dark clouds scudding across the sky, and Connor smiled wryly.
‘I can believe that,’ he said, and an involuntary chuckle broke from her.
‘You hate it here, don’t you?’
‘Not hate, exactly,’ he replied as she began walking along the beach, and he fell into step beside her, ‘but…’ He waved his h
and towards the small cottages dotted along the hillside, the rows of houses nestling further down around the bay that made up the town of Penhally. ‘Don’t you find it incredibly claustrophobic? All those net curtains constantly twitching, the way everyone knows everyone else’s business, and what they don’t know they make up?’
‘People can only know what you choose to tell them,’ she replied. ‘For sure they can speculate, gossip, but you’ll find gossips everywhere.’
‘But Penhally—and St Piran—they’re both so far from civilisation,’ he insisted, and she smiled.
‘When I first came here I heard a holidaymaker say that to one of the old fishermen, and he said, “It all depends on what you mean by ‘civilisation’“. Of course we don’t have big shops, and there’s no cinema, or any sort of nightclub, but if you need help it’s always given. Actually, it reminds me a lot of home.’
‘But it’s nothing like London,’ he protested, and she blinked.
‘I meant Killarney. London was never my home.’
‘Brianna, we lived in London for nine years,’ he replied with ill-disguised irritation. ‘It was most definitely our home.’
‘Maybe for you,’ she muttered, but he heard her, and came to a halt, forcing her to stop, too.
‘All right, explain,’ he demanded, and she opened her mouth, then closed it again to marshal her thoughts.
‘Do you remember the flat we rented in Killarney when we first got married?’ she said, and he groaned.
‘Do I ever? It was so small, and dingy, and whenever I had a bath every damn pipe in the place rattled.’
‘OK,’ she conceded, with a small gurgle of laughter, ‘so the plumbing wasn’t the greatest—’
‘And the mice…’ He rolled his eyes heavenwards. ‘Brianna, the place was overrun with mice, and you’d never let me kill any of them so I was constantly catching them in those humane boxes, and taking them outside, until Mr Fitzgerald told us that unless I took them at least six miles away they’d find their own way back.’
‘So you used to load up the car every weekend, and drive them out to the country,’ she chuckled, remembering, and he shook his head ruefully.
St Piran's: Tiny Miracle Twins Page 6
