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standing at the bathroom door, grinning from ear to ear. Jane was a first-year student, just coming to the end of her stint on the busy paediatric ward, and she had been of invaluable help to Nicolette on her first morning at Southbury Hospital.

      ‘But I’m not talking to myself,’ corrected Nicolette, mock-reprimandingly. ‘I’m talking to young Tom. Did they never teach you in nursing school that babies and children should be talked to constantly?’

      ‘They sure did,’ said Jane, moving across the tiled bathroom floor to crouch down beside Nicolette. She watched the staff nurse making tickling little circles all over the baby’s tummy and noted the child’s enthusiastic response. ‘Hard to believe he was so ill, isn’t it?’

      Nicolette deftly snapped a nappy on and began to roll a blue Babygro over one little foot. ‘Well, I didn’t see him, of course, but if his notes were anything to go by then yes, he’s lucky to be alive. Did you nurse him when he first came in?’

      Jane shook her head. ‘No, not at first. He was a bit too poorly for any of us students to look after. Intensive Care was full, so they sent one of their nurses down here to special him. Sister usually likes caring for the really sick ones herself, if the ward’s quiet enough, but since she—’

      ‘Broke her leg,’ finished Nicolette with an expressive flash of humour in her blue eyes. ‘Yes, I know.’ She pulled the Babygro up the child’s emaciated torso; he was still painfully thin. ‘How come he nearly died before he was admitted to hospital—do you know why he didn’t come in sooner?’

      Nurse Jones nodded glumly. ‘It was the usual sorry story, I’m afraid. His father abandoned the family, leaving Tom’s mother to go out to work.’ She grimaced. ‘As she’s underqualified, the only work she could get was in a bar, so she left Tom in the charge of his older sister.’ She paused dramatically. ‘Only trouble is that she isn’t much older—she’s only nine herself, and didn’t realise how ill he was.’

      Nicolette nodded. ‘Or how rapidly a baby’s condition can deteriorate, no doubt.’ Poor little mite, she thought. As Nurse Jones had said, it was the old, old story, and not for the first time she found herself wondering what kind of chance this child would have in life. She glanced at the student nurse, who was crouched beside her with an enquiring look on her face, and smiled. ‘So—did you come here just to keep me company? Because if you did . . . you can start cleaning out that bath right now! Or have you come to inform me that there’s an acute admission on its way up from Accident and Emergency?’

      ‘Neither. But there has just been a phone call.’

      ‘Not Pharmacy again?’ Nicolette clicked her tongue absently as she pulled a funny face at the baby.

      ‘Not this time,’ grinned Nurse Jones, thinking that Staff Nurse Nicolette Kennedy was going to breathe a lot of life into this place—and not before time! ‘Dr Le Saux is on his way up. He wants to have a quick look at one of the patients. So I thought I’d better warn you,’ she finished, in the kind of tone that Nicolette might have associated with the three-minute warning if she’d ever been unlucky enough to hear it.

      ‘And Dr Le Saux is the consultant?’ guessed Nicolette slowly.

      ‘That’s right,’ said Jane in an even gloomier voice that even after only one morning together Nicolette could tell was over-succinct. ‘Haven’t you met him?’

      Nicolette shook her glossy black curls as she sat back on her heels and watched Thomas happily kicking his legs. ‘No, I haven’t. He was away overseeing some research proposal when I was interviewed for the job.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Unusual name; is he French?’

      Jane shook her head. ‘Apparently it’s an old Jersey name. Distinctive and unique—just like our dear doctor!’

      Dr Le Saux sounded nothing if not formidable, thought Nicolette with some amusement. ‘What time did he say he would be here?’

      ‘In about half an hour.’

      Nicolette picked the unprotesting baby up and cradled him against her shoulder, unable to ignore the non-verbal messages she was getting from her junior any longer. ‘And is he so very awful that you think I should be warned against him?’

      Nurse Jones opened her mouth with undeniable eagerness, then seemed to think better of it, and shut it again. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

      ‘Fine,’ smiled Nicolette diplomatically, and rose to her feet in one easy, fluid movement. If any of her family had been watching they would have been amazed. Sometimes she could be the world’s clumsiest person—in fact, her family were always teasing her about having two left feet. But when she was in charge of a baby or a child she seemed to develop an unerring grace. It was as though children brought out the very best in her, and perhaps it was this quality which had always made her attain the most glowing reports from all the paediatric wards on which she had worked.

      Though lately she had to admit to feeling a touch wistful. Broody, almost; wondering what it might be like to care for a baby of her own, instead of always looking after someone else’s.

      And you can knock that idea on the head immediately, Nicolette, she told herself sternly. The creation of babies took two people, and she was old-fashioned enough to believe in love and marriage. And there were certainly no suitable candidates for either love or marriage in the offing at present!

      Nurse Jones got to her feet as well, already feeling an odd sort of loyalty to this new staff nurse with the dark, curly hair and the remarkably bright blue eyes. ‘Er, Staff?’

      Nicolette turned around, the baby still cradled against her shoulder. ‘Yes, Nurse Jones?’

      ‘About Dr Le Saux . . .’

      ‘Mmm?’

      Nurse Jones bit at her bottom lip. ‘Well, I wouldn’t want to be indiscreet,’ she began falteringly.

      ‘And I’m not asking you to be,’ Nicolette told her firmly. ‘The last thing I’m after is gossip. But it’s just that, as Sister isn’t here to give me any guidelines, I’d appreciate any help you can give me about the consultant’s particular likes and dislikes. He might not have any, of course, but then he would be unique—in my experience of consultants!’ She grinned at the junior.

      Nurse Jones dimpled back. ‘I know exactly what you mean!’

      ‘Well, then—any tips at all, and I’d be truly grateful,’ said Nicolette.

      Nurse Jones began to doubtfully eye the wayward strand of black hair which was threatening to escape from Nicolette’s chignon. ‘Er—it’s just that Dr Le Saux likes order.’

      ‘Order?’ Nicolette echoed in surprise as she tried unsuccessfully to tuck the errant curl behind her ear. Obviously one tried to keep a hospital ward as orderly as possible, but, in Nicolette’s experience, doing so with any degree of efficiency on a children’s ward was doomed to failure. Children and order, like electricity and water, simply did not mix!

      Nurse Jones nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’

      ‘What kind of order?’

      ‘Oh, you know, a tidy ward. A quiet ward—’

      It sounded as though this list might go on and on and Nicolette gave a strangled kind of smile. ‘On second thoughts, say no more! Dr Le Saux can tell me all his likes and dislikes himself.’ But if he thinks I’ll be straightening sheets when I should be cuddling babies, he’s got another think coming, she thought with a determined tilt of her square chin. She handed the baby over to Nurse Jones, who, even after one morning, she could tell loved small children just about as much as she did. ‘Would you like to give Thomas a feed for me?’

      ‘Oh, could I?’ asked Nurse Jones gratefully, then screwed her nose up as she noticed that the bath still hadn’t been cleaned. ‘You’re going to leave cleaning the bath, then?’

      ‘Leave it? Leave it? Certainly not, Nurse

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