Esther’s stomach had churned as she’d made her way to the unit that day. She’d washed her hair and made sure her scrubs were immaculate. Even applying a little more make-up to her still slightly pale face. And that annoyed her too, because she’d always been immaculate at work. So why did it seem even more important that day? In a way she’d almost been annoyed when she realised Harry Beaumont wasn’t there after all. But the annoyance had quickly given way to relief. On a day like today she wanted to be comfortable at work. All her concentration had to be on Billy and his mother. Not on some random, tall, dark and handsome arrogant fool with toffee-coloured eyes.
Heat rushed into her cheeks as she finished another set of Billy’s checks. Where had that thought come from?
Abi nudged her elbow. ‘So, anyway, I was telling you. We’ve found out what branch of royalty our new surgeon has.’ She smiled brightly as if she thought Esther might actually be interested. ‘He’s from your neck of the woods. He’s a duke. From Scotland. The Duke of Montrose.’
Esther wrinkled her nose. ‘There’s nothing Scottish about him. Have you heard that cut-glass accent?’
Abi laughed. ‘What—you don’t have posh people in Scotland?’
Esther had to smile too. ‘Sure we do. But not in my neck of the woods. Anyhow, when these people get titles, it doesn’t mean it relates to where they stay, or where they’re from. The Prince of Wales wasn’t born and brought up in Wales, was he?’
Abi frowned for a second. ‘I guess not.’ She waved her hand as she started to walk away. ‘Anyway, just thought you’d want to know.’
Esther was surprised. ‘Why on earth did you think I’d want to know?’
Abi’s eyebrows rose. ‘Just in case you were plotting a murder. Thought you’d want to know who he is before you kill him.’ She was grinning as she left, but Esther pressed her lips together.
Okay. Abi hadn’t mentioned anything about the day before. But people were clearly talking. At some point she’d expect Harry to appear again and review Billy. If she were lucky, somebody else would be on duty. If not, it was really important that she didn’t give off those vibes. The ones that said, If I was a superhero and had powers, I’d strike you down with my laser vision.
She had to maintain her professional composure. It didn’t matter they’d had a few fallouts. The patients were the most important thing in NICU. It was important that an easy ambience was kept in place. She could be civil. She might not smile, but she could certainly be civil.
‘Hey, Esther, can you take a call from Harry Beaumont? He wants a report on Billy.’
She stiffened and picked up Billy’s chart. ‘Sure.’
It seemed like she’d have to start right now. She picked up the phone from where it was lying on the nurses’ station and did actually smile as she kept things deliberately formal. ‘This is Esther McDonald, Billy’s midwife, can I help you?’
There was a pause at the end of the line. ‘This is Harry Beaumont, the neonatal cardiac surgeon who carried out Billy’s surgery yesterday. Can you give me an update on how he’s doing, please?’
Oh. It seemed that two could play that game.
The smile stayed on her face. She gave Harry a quick rundown on all of Billy’s obs, new blood results, his colour and then...she did what she always did. She told him how she felt. There was something to be said about the instinct of a health professional. She always believed it should never be ignored. Sometimes, even though there was not a single piece of scientific fact, a health professional just seemed to know if a patient was going to go ‘off.’ So many times, their instincts had been correct. Studies had even been done on the phenomenon.
So she went with her gut. ‘Billy’s good. Everything is going well. I think he’s on the road to recovery.’
‘That’s your professional opinion?’ There was something in his tone. She wasn’t quite sure if he was mocking her, or if he actually got it.
‘I have a good feeling,’ she replied.
‘Okay.’ His voice was thoughtful. He paused for a few seconds. ‘Thanks for the update. I should be back by tomorrow. I’ll review him in person then. How’s his mum doing?’
Once again, Esther was a little surprised. The surgeons she’d worked with before generally didn’t take the time to consider the parents. ‘Sleeping,’ she said. ‘For the first time in days. She’s taken a shower and washed her hair too. When she wakes up, I’m going to send her down to the hospital canteen with one of my colleagues to make sure she eats.’
‘Does she really have no supports? Does no one else come to visit Billy?’
Esther’s curiosity was piqued. Not only was he interested, he actually sounded concerned. ‘Not the whole time I’ve been here,’ she said.
‘Hmm...’ She could tell he was thinking. Her brain was whirring. Maybe he wasn’t quite as bad as she’d first thought.
‘Esther, can I just check? Your temperature yesterday, it’s resolved?’
And there it was. Just when she’d finally had a reasonable thought about this man it was like he’d just pulled the rug from under her feet.
In a way she understood the question. His issue was protecting the baby he’d operated on. But the question was intensely personal. Just as well she didn’t have anything to hide.
‘My temperature is resolved.’
‘The reason?’
She bristled. It seemed to be her permanent state when she had any contact with this man. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this about anyone. He was checking up on her—again.
She decided to put all her cards on the table. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t have a respiratory infection.’ If she had, she knew she’d have to have bailed out of the NICU for a few days. There were strict rules adhered to by all the members of staff in the NICU. ‘I have a UTI,’ she added. ‘Long-term history, and I’ve got antibiotics.’
It was too much information. But she wanted this guy off her back. As a health care professional she wasn’t embarrassed to talk about medical conditions. She really didn’t think she had anything to hide.
There was a few moments’ silence at the end of the phone, then his voice sounded deep and husky. ‘I hope you feel better soon, Esther.’
She licked her lips as she put down the phone, a strange buzz going up her arm. She was feeling a little warm again. Maybe it was time for some more paracetamol?
CHAPTER FOUR
HER PHONE BUZZED and she checked it as she walked into A&E. ‘Hi, Mum, everything okay?’
She listened for a few minutes as her mum filled her in on the last few days. Her heart always twisted in her chest when her mum’s name came up on her phone. It always made her wonder if it was going to be something she didn’t want to hear.
Her mum had fought cancer a few years ago, the worst part being she’d initially kept it a secret from Esther because she didn’t want to distract her from her studies. Esther had been absolutely devastated when she’d found out—particularly when she’d realised her mum had gone through the diagnosis and some of her treatment on her own. Guilt had overwhelmed her, that her mother had put her first in her own biggest time of need. They’d always been so close and the treatment had left her mother unable to work any more. Hence, why Esther worked every shift she could. She had to pay rent in London, which was always extortionate, plus the mortgage payment on her mum’s home in Edinburgh. But there was only two years left on the mortgage. She could do it. She just had to keep up with the extra shifts.
‘I’m glad you’re doing okay,’ said Esther, her shoulders going down a little in relief.
‘Please don’t work too hard, honey,’ came the reply. ‘I’m so sorry about all this.’ This conversation happened in every call. Her mum felt massively guilty that her daughter was helping support her now.
But what else could she do? Her dad had died a few years earlier. He’d been wonder
ful, if a little harum-scarum. He’d drifted from job to job. Her mother had always really been the breadwinner in the household. Her father’s jobs had always revolved around his passions. He’d been an extra for film companies, a body-double, had a go at training as a stunt man, then he’d taken jobs everywhere as a tour guide. He’d always seemed to like jumping from place to place, before coming home to his girls with a whole host of wonderful stories to tell.
Although they’d both loved and adored him, his attitude to work had put a strain on things for her mum, who’d counted every penny. It had ingrained in Esther the fact that security and a steady job were one of the most important things in life.
‘It’s fine, Mum, please don’t worry. You paid the first twenty-three years, let me pay off the rest.’ She spoke for another few minutes, then ended the call.
The board in A&E was full. It was going to be a busy night.
She walked down to where the shift handover normally happened. The first person she saw was Rob, the ANP. He groaned and grabbed her elbow. ‘I called yesterday—didn’t you get the message to call me back?’
She shook her head. He walked into one of the consulting rooms and took out a key to open a locked drawer. ‘The lab work showed that the antibiotic you’re on won’t work this time. You need something different.’
He handed over a prescription bottle with her name on it.
She nodded. ‘I wondered why I wasn’t feeling better so quickly. Okay, I’ll swap them over.’ She opened the bottle and swallowed the first tablet with some water. ‘All good.’ She smiled at him.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, now let’s get to the handover.’
Thursdays were a strange day in A&E. Everyone always expected weekends to be busy, but Thursdays liked to keep staff hanging, wondering if it was going to be a lull before the storm, or a full-on tornado.
Today, the waiting room was packed.