And then he was going for a long walk to think about what Alfie had said.
‘Why are we so busy? Christmas morning is supposed to be quiet.’ Feeling numb and exhausted after another night with no sleep, Stella picked up another set of notes. ‘Everyone is supposed to be at home with their families, enjoying themselves.’
‘It’s the “enjoying themselves” bit that’s causing the problem,’ Daniel drawled, checking a blood alcohol level and frowning in disbelief. ‘How can anyone start drinking at eleven in the morning?’
‘It’s probably left over from the night before.’
‘If this is left over from the night before, I’m going to be transferring the guy to the mortuary.’ Daniel strode away to see the patient and Stella stared after him, wondering when to tell him that she was applying for jobs back in London.
Or maybe she shouldn’t tell him at all. Maybe she should just quietly melt away.
She tried to focus on her work, smiling automatically at patients who wished her merry Christmas, trying not to let her low mood infect anyone else.
‘Stella?’ Towards lunchtime, the receptionist walked towards her, a pair of red antlers swaying on top of her head. ‘There’s a mother out there with a child who has stuck a Christmas decoration up his nose.’
‘It must either be a large nose or a small Christmas decoration.’ Daniel appeared from nowhere. ‘Put them in one of the cubicles. I’ll see the child.’
‘Great, thanks. After that, we’re going to gather in the staffroom and do the Secret Santa. We’ve got mince pies and champagne. No reason to starve ourselves just because we’re working.’
‘That’s just what we need,’ Daniel murmured to Stella. ‘Drunk staff handling drunk patients. The day is getting better and better.’
She managed to smile, but part of her felt hurt that he seemed to be in such a good mood.
Clearly what they’d shared the night of the Christmas party hadn’t affected him. He hadn’t been round to see her and at work he’d acted as if nothing had happened.
Which basically meant that nothing had happened, as far as he was concerned.
Just a bit of hot sex in the snow.
Trying not to think about it, Stella called the mother and child into the cubicle.
‘Honestly, I can’t believe this has happened.’ The mother was pink in the face and flustered. ‘I’m in the middle of cooking a turkey and I’ve got twelve for lunch—it’s such chaos in the house, no one noticed that the bead garland on the tree had broken. My father in law almost broke his hip, sliding across the floor, and we were all fussing about him when I realised that Oliver had pushed one of the beads up his nose.’
‘Dangerous things, Christmas trees.’ Daniel strode back into the room and crouched down beside the little boy. ‘Hello, Oliver. I’m Dan.’
The little boy looked at him. ‘I’ve got a bead up my nose.’
‘So I gather. I don’t suppose this was how you planned to spend Christmas morning. Have you opened your presents yet?’
‘My main one.’ Daniel pulled on a pair of gloves. ‘And what was that?’
‘A remote-control tyrannosaurus.’
‘That sounds pretty cool. Look up for me.’ Daniel adjusted the light. ‘There’s a chance we might be able to remove it here in the department, if it’s in the right position.’
‘We could always try the nose-blowing technique,’ Stella suggested, and Daniel looked at Oliver.
‘That’s not a bad idea. Are you any good at blowing your nose?’
Oliver shook his head and his mother rolled her eyes.
‘Usually he just wipes it on his sleeve. He holds the tissue, but he hasn’t got the hang of the blowing part. What are the other options?’
Daniel looked at Stella. ‘I could try a nasal speculum—or we could use gentle suction.’
Stella knew what he was thinking—that he didn’t want to send this child down to Theatre to have it removed under general anaesthetic on Christmas Day.
‘Let’s not abandon the nose-blowing idea,’ she said, kneeling down in front of Oliver. ‘Oliver, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to keep your mouth closed and no matter what happens, you don’t open it. I’m going to press on the side of your nose and you are going to blow as if you’re a dragon making fire. Got that?’