The Rebel and the Baby Doctor Read online

  ‘Then maybe it’s fortunate I don’t have any secrets to be made public,’ Connor murmured. He swallowed his coffee and glanced at Phoebe. ‘Are we on for the neonatal transport this afternoon? Katie told me they were hoping the baby would be in a stable enough condition to undertake the move.’

  She nodded. ‘Her vital signs are not too bad at the moment, so it looks as though it will go ahead.’

  Despite the coffee there was a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had been wondering why Connor hadn’t returned home last night. He hadn’t been there when she’d come back to the house from the Griddle Bar around midnight, and there had been no sign of his car returning in the early hours. That morning, as Jessica had pointed out to her, his room had been empty and the bed hadn’t been slept in.

  She glanced at him. Wasn’t that the same shirt he had been wearing yesterday? Her mouth flattened. It hadn’t taken him long to find a new object for his affections, had it? Had Lisa been wined and dined at the Blue Bay? Somehow, it rankled that he had been able to replace her so easily.

  For the life of her, she didn’t know why him staying out all night bothered her so much, but perhaps it would serve as a timely warning to her to keep her distance. He was fickle, and his affections could be diverted as easily as thistledown blowing on the wind.

  She rinsed her coffee-cup under the tap and headed for the door. ‘I have to go and check on a new arrival in A and E,’ she said. ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Alex.’

  Alex nodded. ‘Maybe we could get together some time this week? Perhaps Thursday evening, if you’re not going to be working?’

  ‘That sounds fine to me.’ She went out of the door and walked along the corridor to the stairs. It gave her a breathing space, a chance to get herself together, but Connor caught up with her as she reached the flight to the ground floor.

  ‘Not taking the lift today?’ he commented. ‘I hope this has nothing to do with diets and losing weight. You look perfect to me, just as you are.’ His gaze shifted over her, taking in the soft lines of her blouse and the gentle drape of her skirt as it flowed around her legs.

  ‘Thanks. I’m aiming to stay that way. You can call this aerobic exercise, if you like.’

  He made a smile. ‘If you say so.’ His expression sobered. ‘You didn’t look too happy, back there in the doctors’ lounge. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Of course.’ Not for one moment would she dream of telling him what had really been on her mind. But, then, she hadn’t been too keen to get back to work, had she, in her heart of hearts? ‘I suppose, if the truth be known, I’m worrying about the baby who was brought to A and E this morning. I can’t seem to get used to dealing with these fragile little infants. The very first baby I treated today needed an operation to correct a blockage in the flow of bile from the liver to the gallbladder. He wasn’t very well at all.’

  Connor was thoughtful. ‘I’ve heard that there’s more chance of a reasonable recovery if the operation is carried out in the early weeks—is it likely that things will work out well for him?’

  She nodded. ‘The operation went well, so I’m reasonably confident that he’ll be all right, but he’s just one among many infants who need our attention. These babies arrive here with so many different conditions affecting them, most of them serious and all of them very worrying—like the baby that has just been admitted. He has a heart defect that’s causing him to go downhill fast, by all accounts.’

  Connor’s expression became serious. ‘Yes, I was the one who examined him earlier and arranged for him to be admitted.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I didn’t realise that.’ By now they had reached the A and E unit, and she waited while Connor keyed in his code so that the doors swished open.

  ‘The poor little scrap has a number of problems to contend with,’ he said as they walked into the department. ‘He isn’t feeding well, his breathing is rapid and there’s a bluish colour around his mouth and nose. I’ve done a chest X-ray and I suspect that he’s developing congestive heart failure.’

  Phoebe gave a shuddery sigh as she passed by the reception desk. ‘It doesn’t sound good at all, does it? I’ll go and take a look at him and transfer him to the neonatal unit. I imagine I’ll have to put in a call to Mr Kirk for him to come and do a consultation.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I was thinking.’ He sent her a quick glance. ‘Is something wrong? You look very pale all of a sudden.’

  ‘I’m all right.’ She stiffened her shoulders. ‘I just have to brace myself to deal with these things. It’s just that I find these kinds of cases particularly hard as I first witnessed it with my sister’s little girl, Emily, and since then I’m always afraid that things are not going to turn out well for children with these kinds of problems. I remember the heartache we all went through with Emily when she was a baby, and I’m not sure how I would cope if things were to go badly for any child in my care. That’s why I wasn’t happy about this particular rotation, even though I didn’t have any real choice but to do it.’

  ‘You hadn’t done any medical training when Emily was going through all her initial problems,’ he said, frowning. ‘You were bound to feel apprehensive and upset. You didn’t do anything wrong—you just did the best that you could at the time.’

  Phoebe shook her head. ‘But my best wasn’t good enough. I still remember the panic I felt when my sister came to me and told me how ill the baby was. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt useless. She was looking to me to help her, and I should have been able to do something.’

  ‘As I heard it, you gave the baby chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth while you were waiting for the ambulance to arrive. I don’t see that you could have done any more in the circumstances.’ He came to a halt by the computer bay where doctors usually sat to write up their notes.

  Phoebe glanced around distractedly. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. It still doesn’t sit easily with me. This is my family that we’re talking about. They mean the world to me and I felt as though I let them down.’

  His glance travelled over her. ‘You did more than could have been expected. Your sister told me all about it some time later when she brought Emily to London for a hospital consultation. She said she had been scared back then because she had no idea what to do. She was the older sister, but she turned to you because you were always so capable in a crisis.’

  ‘All I do recall is that Emily went into convulsions in the ambulance and I couldn’t do anything but look on and pray that she would survive.’ Phoebe grimaced. ‘I think it must have been the worst moment of my life.’

  He reached for her hand and held it between his palms. ‘Wasn’t it also the factor that made you decide to take up medicine as a career?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She wriggled and tried to move back a pace, but he was not about to let her go. His hold on her was gentle but firm, and as he moved closer to her she knew that somehow she had to break away from him before she became wrapped up in the nebulous, enticing security blanket he was busy weaving around her.

  ‘Of course it was. You made up your mind that you just had to go out of your way to look after people.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘That’s what makes you so lovable.’

  Lovable? She gazed up at him, her eyes widening. Why had he used that word out of all the ones he might have chosen? It didn’t mean anything, though, did it? It was just a casual phrase, dropped into the melting pot of her confused emotions. Why was she even giving it a second thought?

  She looked down at the hands that clasped hers. They were warm and protective, the long fingers lightly tanned to a golden brown, and the sense of well-being they induced travelled along her arm and invaded the whole of her body. It was because he was holding her…that was the reason she was feeling so mixed up, wasn’t it? Her mind simply refused to function properly while he was doing that.

  ‘I don’t know about any of that,’ she murmured. ‘But I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that I should steer clear of paediatrics throughout the rest
of my training. Treating adults is one thing, but I’m beginning to realise that working with infants and children is altogether too stressful for me. I’ve had to watch Emily these last few years, growing up with a heart condition, needing constant care and attention, and I saw how worrying it was for my sister, bracing herself to prepare her child for different procedures.’

  ‘But Emily is doing fine now, isn’t she?’ Connor lightly stroked her arm. ‘All that care and attention has paid off in the end.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, but it was hard watching her go through it.’ She glanced to one side at the perspex board where patients’ names were listed. ‘My little charge is in bay four. I’ll go and see how he’s doing.’

  Connor nodded. ‘Drop by when you’ve had time to assess him and let me know what’s what. I’ll be in the paediatric observation ward. I have to go and look at a couple of patients who were admitted overnight. One of them had a heart operation recently, but he collapsed last night and I have to explain to the parents about changes to his medication.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He let go of her and Phoebe hurried away before he could lure her back to his side.

  Connor appeared to have no problem at all in dealing with his small patients or their parents. She’d seen evidence of it on a number of occasions when she had passed through children’s A and E, and everybody said how good he was at working with them. It would be great if some of his confidence would rub off on her.

  Some half an hour later, when she had finished checking over the baby and had gathered together all the paperwork that needed to go along with him to the neonatal unit, she went in search of Connor once more.

  ‘Are you busy?’ she asked him, wheeling the baby into the treatment room where he was working. ‘Only I need you to sign off on these papers before I can take the baby up to the unit.’

  She smiled at the child Connor was tending, a young boy of around nine years old, who was lying in the bed, propped up by pillows. Then she nodded a greeting to the parents who were by his side.

  Connor came over to her. ‘Yes, of course. I’m glad that you’re here.’ His grey eyes took on a warm, inviting glimmer. ‘You can perhaps help to explain to Mr and Mrs Brannigan about the holiday centre on Exmoor. I think you’re familiar with it because that’s where your little niece went to take a break a few months ago.’

  Phoebe glanced at the parents. ‘Are you talking about the activity centre?’

  Mrs Brannigan nodded. ‘That’s right. I was thinking of taking Jamie there for a few days while my husband is away on business. Jamie’s recovering from a heart operation, and he’s been feeling quite miserable lately, so I was looking for somewhere that would be fun for him, but not too strenuous. Can you recommend it at all?’

  Phoebe nodded, and looked across the room at Jamie once more. ‘I think you would like it there, Jamie,’ she said. ‘My niece was a little younger than you when she first went to the centre. She was six years old and, like you, she had just had an operation, and she tired easily, but there were all sorts of exciting things for her to do at the activity centre. She went again last year, because she enjoyed it so much.’

  She gave the boy an encouraging smile. ‘There’s wheelchair access, and you can do things like canoeing and fishing, or if you don’t like watersports there are always things like the farm animals to see—Emily liked the horse riding while we were there, but sometimes, if she was feeling less energetic, she spent time in the craft centre. There would be children of around your age staying there, so you could perhaps make some new friends.’

  Jamie looked pleased with what she told him, and glanced towards his mother. ‘I think I might like that,’ he said. ‘Could we do that?’

  Mrs Brannigan was cautious. ‘I’m still not sure, Jamie.’ She turned to Connor. ‘The thing is, I don’t know how I would cope if he had any problems while we were there. I really want him to have some fun, but there are so many things I need to bear in mind, like sorting out the medication he needs, and what to do if he has any more after-effects from the operation…like the way he collapsed last night. We still need to learn to adjust to his condition.’ She looked at her son. ‘I know I said that I would take you away for a break after the operation, but perhaps it’s too soon.’

  Jamie looked crestfallen and appealed to his father. ‘It’ll be all right, won’t it, Dad? Tell Mum it’ll be all right. I’m getting stronger every day.’

  His father looked uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know, Jamie. You’re still quite frail. Perhaps your mother’s right. We ought to wait until you’ve managed to put on a bit more weight, and you’re feeling better. We hadn’t expected any of these complications, and I won’t be there to help out, will I?’

  ‘There is another solution, perhaps,’ Connor put in. ‘You were planning on going there at the end of next week, weren’t you?’

  Mrs Brannigan nodded. ‘That’s right. I’d made a tentative booking, but after he collapsed I had second thoughts about it.’

  Connor nodded. ‘That’s understandable, but I might be able to come along and help you out for a couple of days at the weekend, if that would be of any use. I’d like to see the centre for myself so that I’ll know whether to recommend it to other patients. I could see how Jamie copes with the activities and perhaps give you some advice along the way.’

  Mrs Brannigan’s eyes lit up. ‘Would you really be prepared to do that for us? It’s such a lot to ask of you, but it would make me feel so much easier in my mind if I knew that you were going to be there, too. You’ve been so good, explaining Jamie’s condition to us and helping us through this. I’d probably be able to cope with the rest of the stay by myself once we had managed the first few days.’

  Connor glanced at the boy’s father. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  The man smiled. ‘I would certainly feel a lot easier in my mind, knowing that a doctor was going along with my boy. Are you sure that we wouldn’t be putting you out too much?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Connor said. He hesitated, a brief look of uncertainty crossing his features. ‘Of course, you have to bear in mind that I don’t have any experience of the centre myself, and I wouldn’t want to put you wrong on that score. Dr Linwood here is the expert on that, and I know she volunteered there from time to time. In fact, I had an idea she still does occasionally.’ He sent Phoebe a vaguely questioning look, as though he was floundering a touch.

  For her part, Phoebe was surprised that Connor knew any of that. She hadn’t told him about her stint at the centre, and he wouldn’t have heard it from her parents, since they still had their doubts about him. Of course, he had kept in touch with her sister over the years, hadn’t he? But why was he showing signs of uncertainty? That wasn’t at all like him. Maybe he was concerned for this young boy.

  When she remained silent, thinking things through, Connor told the boy’s parents, ‘I can help you out with Jamie’s medical condition, but Phoebe is the one who knows all there is to know about whether the activities might be suitable. She would be the best one to guide you on that score.’

  Mrs Brannigan turned to Phoebe. ‘Really? Is it true? Do you still volunteer at the centre? It would be wonderful if you could be there with us, too.’ Her husband cleared his throat in warning and she pulled herself up, looking flustered all at once. ‘Of course, I expect you’re much too busy. You must forget I asked. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  Jamie’s mouth drooped unhappily, and now Phoebe was the one to be uncertain. ‘No, that’s quite all right. It’s true what Dr Broughton was saying, I used to volunteer there on a regular basis. They did so much to help my young niece while she was recovering from various operations and procedures.’ She was thoughtful for a moment, disturbed by the sad look in the boy’s eyes. ‘I dare say I could fit in another weekend there. The organisers are always asking me if I’ll go back.’

  All at once, Jamie was beaming from ear to ear. ‘So I get to go away after all? That’s super-cool.’
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br />   Jamie and his parents talked to one another excitedly, already making plans for the coming event.

  It was only when Phoebe turned away and saw Connor’s lips make a faint curve of satisfaction that she realised how neatly she had been manoeuvred into volunteering her services.

  Had she really thought he was unsure of himself? What possessed her to think that way? Connor never had doubts. He had led her down the path and held out the bait of the boy’s desperate longing so that she would enter the trap willingly.

  ‘Thank you so much for this,’ Mrs Brannigan said, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘I’ll ring the centre and say that we’ll go ahead with the booking.’

  The woman turned away and started an animated conversation with her husband and son once more.

  Phoebe felt the door of the trap clang firmly into place. She sent Connor a brief, quizzical look, and he returned it with a bland gaze, as though he was innocence itself.

  ‘You said you had some papers for me to sign?’ he murmured.

  ‘That’s right, I did. I can’t think what made me forget.’ Her blue eyes lanced into him, and the wretched man dared to smile.

  ‘You’ve always been extremely good with children,’ he murmured in an undertone as he signed the papers, ‘no matter much how you doubt yourself. Emily’s come a long way since her unfortunate start, and now you would hardly know that there’s anything wrong with her. That has to be down to the care she’s received over the years from both the medical profession and her family…including her favourite aunt. It’ll do you good to go away for the weekend, you’ll see. It will help you to see the positive side of things.’

  She gave a brief, taut smile in return as she took the papers from him. ‘You are in so much trouble,’ she muttered. ‘Just wait till I get you on your own.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘IS IT safe to come in here?’ Connor poked his head around the door of the neonatal unit, and caught Phoebe’s gaze.