LITMIR.BIZ

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in the U.K., he’d worked as a consultant at the Stirling Children’s Hospital from the time he’d begun his specialist training about twelve years ago. Lynne understood that he was an excellent doctor and a pleasure to work with, she’d told them.

      Once the practical details of his return had been discussed, the curious female staff had embarked on the predictable gossip session.

      ‘How old is he?’ one of the young nurses had asked. Their previous boss was retiring and was well into his sixties.

      ‘Ooh, close to forty, I’d estimate,’ Lynne had replied.

      ‘Good-looking, I hope,’ Karen, the play therapist who had just broken up with her boyfriend, had piped up.

      Lynne had then scanned the group of inquisitive faces. ‘I can’t answer that one. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him.’

      ‘He’d have to be an improvement on old Dr Price. Is he married?’ Karen had persisted.

      Joanna had remained conspicuously silent during the discussion, but had felt the sudden heat of an unexpected blush at the mention of Richard’s marital status. Fortunately the other women’s attention had been focused firmly on Lynne, who had begun to put away the patient notes from handover. She hadn’t quite finished her exposé on Dr Richard Howell, though, and the woman had glanced at Karen, who had never been shy of saying what she was thinking.

      ‘Don’t get any ideas, Karen. As far as I know, he’s unattached. Separated or divorced, I heard.’ She’d hesitated. ‘Or at least he was when he left to go overseas.’ She’d looked at the play therapist sternly. ‘But I don’t want your mind straying from the job. Which reminds me, that’s what we all should be doing—working, not gossiping.’

      Joanna had made a hurried exit and immersed herself in her work, trying not to think of the ramifications of Richard reappearing in her life. During the week before his arrival she’d tried to convince herself she would remain objective. Determined her relationship with Richard would be no different from her relationship with Dr Price, she’d devised an affirmation she’d repeated many times.

       I am a good nurse, I love the children I care for and that’s all that matters.

      But when Joanna had scanned the room after having her head shaved and seen the tall, fair-haired man staring at her as if she had just committed a crime, her heart had done a back flip and all that mattered had been the connection she’d felt with a man she’d tried so hard to forget. She hadn’t thought she’d see Richard until the following day when he officially commenced his clinical duties. She also thought she’d mentally prepared herself for all possible scenarios. Oh, how wrong she’d been.

      Thank God she’d reverted back to her maiden name before she’d applied for the job at Lady Lawler. Even though Howell was a common name, she suspected there’d be the inevitable, light-hearted enquiries about whether she and Richard were related. She’d not told any of her colleagues the truth about her marriage and she had no plans to do so.

      Seeing him again, after three and a half long years, had sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins that felt like a slow-burning fuse. Her days of emotional fireworks were over, though. She’d worked hard to regain a meaningful life. She’d also realised there was no place in her future for a husband. She wouldn’t run the risk of being abandoned again when the going got tough. Richard was her husband in name only. She’d put off discussing a divorce in the wild hope they might rediscover the love they had once shared in the early years of their marriage when Sam had been healthy and happy—the light of their lives. But Richard had not been able to cope with her grieving. He’d gone away and it was too late now.

       I am a good nurse, I love the children I care for and that’s all that matters.

      The closer she came to a face-to-face meeting with Richard, the more difficult it became to convince herself, especially now his first day on the ward had finally arrived.

      She opened her locker in the nurses’ change rooms and replaced her casual clothes with the cheerful oncology staff uniform of coffee-coloured trousers and a crazy rainbow-patterned top. The outfit had been cleverly designed to have pockets in all the right places but bore no resemblance to the traditional dress of a nurse.

      Thinking about the day ahead, she smiled as she stowed her gear in her locker. She wondered how Tye Coombs had coped with his final chemo the previous evening and whether Dylan’s grandparents had arrived from the country in time to wish him a happy birthday. As she walked into Matilda Ward she was greeted by the usual bustle of the night sister gathering the day staff for the morning handover, but even their cheerful chat didn’t distract her from thoughts of how she would cope with meeting Richard again. She tried her best not to appear preoccupied.

      ‘My God, you’re brave, Joanna,’ Karen said as she breezed into the nursing station.

      Joanna smiled. ‘You mean my zero-gauge haircut?’

      ‘Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be game to do it again this year.’ She ran her fingers through her own honey-brown locks, which still had the vestiges of purple glittered streaks. ‘But then again, you can get away with it.’ The woman studied Joanna’s face for a few moments longer. ‘I wish I had eyes like yours and that fine bone structure.’

      Joanna laughed. ‘I do it for the kids, and I don’t think they notice the finer points of bone structure. I suspect you’re just saying it to make me feel better.’

      ‘No, I really mean it.’

      The conversation was cut short by Lynne, the charge nurse for the day, summoning them all together.

      ‘We’ve had a fairly quiet night and we actually have two empty beds, but I understand there’s a thirteen-year-old boy coming in today for bone biopsy tomorrow,’ Barbara, the night sister, began. ‘And there was one new admission at about midnight. Cassie Blake’s come in with a temp of 39.5 and a productive cough. Most of you know her, I think. Twelve-year-old with ALL.’

      Lynne interrupted, ‘Do you know what that stands for, Tracey?’ She directed her question to the student nurse who had started on the ward the day before. The girl blushed.

      ‘Acute…er…lymphoblastic leukaemia,’ the girl amended.

      ‘Well done. Sorry, Barb, go on.’

      ‘No problem.’ Barbara smiled and refocused her attention on the pile of patient folders. ‘She’s halfway through induction chemo as an outpatient and responding well. Chest X-ray’s clear but she’s on IV antibiotics and two-hourly obs. Temp’s come down to 37.9 already. The physio will see her this morning and she’s to have another blood count.’

      Joanna became aware of the presence of a late arrival in the small nurses’ station. By the hint of aftershave she knew the person was a male and he was standing directly behind her. She began to feel embarrassed that he had a full view of her recently shorn skull and as she moved sideways he leaned towards her and whispered, ‘No need to move,’ as casually as if he’d never met her before. ‘I’m just eavesdropping.’ Then he addressed the whole group.

      ‘Don’t let me interrupt, ladies…’ he glanced apologetically at Grant, the only male nurse on for the shift ‘…and gentleman. Just thought I’d get a head start on the ward round by listening in. Hope you don’t mind.’

      ‘Of course not, Dr Howell.’ Barbara beamed. ‘I was just about to say that you would be seeing Cassie this morning to assess her.’ She addressed the group again. ‘You’ve all heard Dr Howell is starting his clinical duties today as medical oncologist, taking over from Dr Price.’

      All eyes turned towards the man standing behind her. Joanna sensed the rush of warmth and felt certain her whole scalp was glowing. This kind of reaction was so out of character. She was embarrassing herself and behaving like a teenager.

      ‘Thanks, Barbara, but please go on. Pretend I’m not here.’

      Easier said than done,

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