LITMIR.BIZ

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her bones.

      Two minutes later she arrived in the medical ward. She took a deep breath. There it was. The hospital smell. Some people hated it and shuddered walking through the very doors of the hospital. But Cassidy loved it—it was like a big security blanket, and she’d missed it. It was just before seven and the lights were still dimmed. Ruby, the night nurse, gave her a smile. ‘Nice to see you back, Cassidy. How was the secondment?’

      Cassidy nodded, wrapping her cardigan further around her torso. Her temperature was still barely above freezing. ‘It was fine, but three months was long enough. The new community warfarin clinic is set up—all the teething problems ironed out. To be honest, though, I’m glad to be back. I missed this place.’

      And she had. But at the time the three-month secondment had been perfect for her. It had given her the chance to sort out all the hassles with her gran, work regular hours and get her settled into the new nursing home—the second in a year. Her eyes swept over the whiteboard on the wall, displaying all the patient names, room numbers and named nurses. ‘No beds?’ She raised her eyebrows.

      ‘Actually, we’ve got one. But A and E just phoned to say they’re sending us an elderly lady with a chest infection, so I’ve put her name up on the board already. She should be up in the next ten minutes.’

      Cassidy gave a nod as the rest of the day-shift staff appeared, gathering around the nurses’ station for the handover report. She waited patiently, listening to the rundown of the thirty patients currently in her general medical ward, before assigning the patients to the nurses on duty and accepting the keys for the medicine and drugs cabinets.

      She heard the ominous trundle of a trolley behind her. ‘I’ll admit this patient,’ she told her staff. ‘It’ll get me back into the swing of things.’

      She looked up as Bill, one of the porters, arrived, pulling the trolley with the elderly woman lying on top. A doctor was walking alongside them, carrying some notes and chatting to the elderly lady as they wheeled her into one of the side rooms. He gave her a smile—one that could have launched a thousand toothpaste campaigns. ‘This is Mrs Elizabeth Kelly. She’s eighty-four and has a history of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. She’s had a chest infection for the last seven days that hasn’t responded to oral antibiotics. Her oxygen saturation is down at eighty-two and she’s tachycardic. The doctor on call wanted her admitted for IV antibiotics.’

      For a moment the strong Australian accent threw her—she hadn’t been expecting it. Though goodness knows why not. Her hospital in the middle of Glasgow attracted staff from all over the world. His crumpled blue scrubs and even more crumpled white coat looked as though he’d slept in them—and judging by his blond hair, sticking up in every direction but the right one, he probably had.

      She didn’t recognise him, which meant he must be one of the new doctors who had started while she was away on secondment. And he was too handsome by far. And that cheeky twinkle in his eye was already annoying her.

      After three months away, some things appeared to have changed around the hospital. It was usually one of the A and E nurses who accompanied the patient up to the ward.

      Cassidy pumped up the bed and removed the headboard, pulling the patslide from the wall and sliding the patient over into the bed. The doctor helped her put the headboard back on and adjusted the backrest, rearranging the pillows so Mrs Kelly could sit upright. Cassidy attached the monitoring equipment and changed the oxygen supply over to the wall. The doctor was still standing looking at her.

      For a second she almost thought he was peering at her breasts, but as she followed his gaze downwards she realised her name and designation was stitched on the front of her new tunics.

      She held out her hand towards him. ‘Cassidy Rae. Sister of the medical receiving unit. Though from the way you’re staring at my breasts, I take it you’ve gathered that.’

      His warm hand caught her cold one, his eyes twinkling. ‘Pleased to meet you, Dragon Lady. I hope your heart isn’t as cold as your hands.’

      She pulled her hand away from his. ‘What did you call me?’

      ‘Dragon Lady.’ He looked unashamed by the remark. ‘Your reputation precedes you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, although from what I hear it’s usually you who does the name-calling.’

      She folded her arms across her chest, trying to stop the edges of her mouth turning upwards. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’ She picked up the patient clothing bag and bent down, starting to unpack Mrs Kelly’s belongings into the cabinet next to her bed.

      ‘I heard you called the last lot Needy, Greedy and Seedy.’

      She jumped. She could feel his warm breath on her neck. He’d bent forward and whispered in her ear.

      ‘Who told you that?’ she asked incredulously. She glanced at her watch. Ten past seven on her first morning back, and already some smart-alec doc was trying to get the better of her.

      ‘Oh, give me a minute.’ The mystery doctor ducked out of the room.

      It was true. She had nicknamed the last three registrars—all for obvious reasons. One had spent every waking minute eating, the other hadn’t seen a patient without someone holding his hand, and as for the last one, he’d spent his year sleazing over all the female staff. And while the nursing staff knew the nicknames she’d given them, she’d no idea who’d told one of the new docs. She’d need to investigate that later.

      She stood up and adjusted Mrs Kelly’s venturi mask, taking a note of her thin frame and pale, papery skin. Another frail, elderly patient, just like her gran. She altered the alarms on the monitor—at their present setting they would sound every few minutes. With a history of COPD, Mrs Kelly had lower than normal oxygen levels.

      ‘How are you feeling?’ She picked up the tympanic thermometer and placed it in Mrs Kelly’s ear, pressing the button to read her temperature then recording her observations in the chart. Mrs Kelly shook her pale head.

      She sat down at the side of the bed. ‘I need to take some details from you, Mrs Kelly. But how about I get you something to eat and drink first? I imagine you were stuck down in A and E for hours. Would you like some tea? Some toast?’

      ‘Your wish is my command.’ The steaming cup of tea and plate of buttered toast thudded down on the bedside table. ‘See, Mrs Kelly? I make good on my promises.’ He shook his head at Cassidy. ‘There was nothing to eat down in A and E and I promised I’d get her some tea once we got up here.’

      ‘Thank you, son,’ Mrs Kelly said, shifting her mask and lifting the cup to her lips, ‘My throat is so dry.’

      He nodded slowly. Oxygen therapy frequently made patients’ mouths dry and it was important to keep them hydrated.

      Cassidy stared at him. Things had changed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a doctor make a patient a cup of tea. It was almost unheard of.

      She smiled at him. ‘Makes me almost wish we could keep you,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve obviously been well trained.’

      His blue eyes glinted. ‘And what makes you think you can’t keep me?’

      ‘I imagine A and E will have a whole load of patients waiting for you. Why did you come up here anyway? Was it to steal our chocolates?’ She nodded towards the nursing station. The medical receiving unit was never short of chocolates, and it wasn’t unknown for the doctors from other departments to sneak past and steal some.

      He shook his head, the smile still stuck on his face. He held out his hand towards her. ‘I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I’m one of yours—though I dread to think what nickname you’ll give me. Brad Donovan, medical registrar.’

      Cassidy felt herself jerk backwards in surprise. He looked too young to be a medical registrar. Maybe it was the scruffy hair? Or the Australian tan? Or maybe it was that earring glinting in his ear, along with the super-white teeth? He didn’t look like any registrar she’d

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