Consultant Care - Sharon Kendrick

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of her hips as she did so, and set off with a heavy heart to do a ward round with Dr L Le Saux.

      NICOLETTE spotted that the curtains had been drawn round one of the beds and that Dr Le Saux’s white coat was just disappearing behind it, reminding her a little of the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland!

      The paediatric ward was not of the old-fashioned ‘Nightingale’ design that Nicolette was used to, with two long stark lines of beds on either side, although perhaps the ‘orderly’ Dr Le Saux might have preferred that, she thought wickedly. Instead, as was the modern way of nursing, the ward was divided into four-bedded cubicles, with the nurses’ station in the centre but close enough to be able to observe the four side-rooms, where the very sick or infectious patients were looked after.

      Nicolette moved the curtains aside and stepped in.

      Dr Le Saux was bending over a child aged about nine, a child who was staring up at him with big, trusting eyes. The tall doctor straightened up when Nicolette walked in, and the corner of his mouth moved very slightly upwards in a derisive little curve, indicating that his mood remained as prickly as before.

      ‘So here you are,’ he observed. ‘At last,’ he added unreasonably.

      My, but he was irascible! Did his wife nag him, or what? Nicolette found herself staring into eyes which had suddenly taken on a brooding, stormy quality. It would take a strong woman to nag Dr Le Saux, she decided! His name badge, so embarrassingly close earlier, now winked at her like a diamond. ‘Dr L Le Saux’, it said, and she wondered idly what the ‘L’ might stand for. Lucifer, most probably, she thought, biting back a grin with difficulty. ‘Yes. Here I am,’ she said airily.

      She turned to face the little boy on the bed who had been admitted earlier that week. She had said a quick ‘good morning’ after report when she had briefly gone round the ward to try to acquaint herself with the patients, but that had been all she had had time for. None the less, Nicolette knew the boy’s name; she had arrived half an hour early and had memorised every single patient’s name.

      The little boy who lay in the bed was pale and thin, with a pinched little face. ‘Hi, Simon,’ said Nicolette.

      ‘Hi,’ said Simon, giving her the wary little once-over that children always seemed to give when they met someone who would be involved with their care during their stay in hospital. ‘How d’you know my name?’

      Nicolette tapped the side of her nose, rolled her eyes, then giggled. ‘Magic. I’m a mind-reader!’

      At the sight of her open grin, the slightly suspicious look on Simon’s face evaporated. ‘You saw it in the Kardex?’ he guessed.

      ‘Right first time!’

      ‘And what’s your name?’ he asked her.

      She looked down at the small boy understandingly. He could read on her badge what her surname was; he wanted to know what her real name was, her Christian name. ‘Nicolette.’ She smiled broadly, thankful that she lived in a time where hospital traditions were no longer as starchy as they had used to be. Indeed, the use of Christian names was positively encouraged these days.

      Simon responded to the warm grin. ‘That’s pretty,’ he said. ‘An’ you’re pretty, too! Isn’t she pretty, Doctor?’

      Nicolette was too busy trying to stop herself from blushing to take much notice of the fact that the stern-faced Dr Le Saux had not encouraged the use of his Christian name!

      His face went even sterner as he managed to ignore Simon’s question by saying smoothly, ‘Perhaps you’d like to give me a brief run-through of Simon’s history, Staff Nurse? I am assuming, of course, that you managed to find the time to read it up?’

      She had, thank heavens! Nicolette gave Simon’s hand a quick squeeze, pleased as punch when he squeezed hers back. ‘He has cystic fibrosis.’

      Dr Le Saux nodded. ‘And what can you tell me about the disease?’

      At least medical staff could now speak frankly in front of their young charges—which was a relief, thought Nicolette as she gave Simon a dazzling smile. Research had long since shown that honesty was the best policy when dealing with children and that ‘protecting’ them by concealing the nature of their illness often led to their constructing frightening fantasies that were far worse than the truth.

      ‘It’s an inherited condition, affecting many tissues, particularly those with endocrine glands,’ she summarised fluently.

      ‘And how would you describe the endocrine glands, very simply, to a junior nurse?’ he probed.

      Nicolette decided that she would have to award him ten out of ten for persistence, but just about resisted pulling a face at him because she had to concede that he had a point. Some senior nurses did waffle on without knowing how to explain a subject adequately yet succinctly. None-the-less, the last time she had been asked directly about the endocrine glands had been during her last set of examination papers!

      She creased her brows together in concentration. ‘They are a series of small glands, situated in various parts of the body, which form secretions known as hormones,’ she told him.

      He nodded. ‘Good. So tell me how cystic fibrosis presents?’ he queried immediately.

      Nicolette could see that she was going to have to spend every evening with her nose in a textbook if she was to continue working on Dr Le Saux’s ward! ‘The majority of patients present with diarrhoea and failure to thrive, due to malabsorption or recurrent persistent chest infection. Or both. The diagnosis is made by—’

      ‘I’m the one asking the questions, Staff,’ he growled impatiently.

      ‘Certainly, Doctor,’ she answered politely, but her eyes flashed a spark of defiance at the way he had just arrogantly butted in like that. Talking to her as though she were fresh off her first ward, instead of a highly qualified nurse with five years of exacting training behind her! She caught Simon looking up and watching her, a broad grin on his pale face.

      ‘Don’t take any notice of him, Nurse,’ he told her, almost cheerfully. ‘He’s always growling. He has to—he’s a lion man!’

      ‘That’s enough, Simon!’said Dr Le Saux warningly.

      Teasing his doctor seemed to have given Simon a definite rise in spirits. ‘That’s what he’s called, too—lion man! Suits him, doesn’t it?’

      Nicolette raised her thick black brows above clear blue eyes and looked with frank curiosity at Dr Le Saux. Lion man? ‘Oh?’ she queried in a faint, soft voice.

      ‘My name is Leander,’ he told her reluctantly in that deep, deep voice which sounded exactly like rich, runny honey spilling slowly over gravel.

      ‘That’s rather . . . unusual,’ said Nicolette lamely, the curiosity remaining in her blue eyes.

      He frowned, then sighed, as if recognising that some kind of explanation was in order. ‘It’s Greek for “lion man”—as Simon has so accurately pointed out.’

      Leander! Nicolette blinked. Of all the remarkable names for a man. . .‘But weren’t you teased about it at school?’ she blurted out before she could stop herself.

      He looked taken aback, as though the question had surprised him, and Nicolette suspected that he would not have chosen to answer it, had not Simon butted in eagerly.

      ‘Did they, Doctor?’

      The tall man’s eyes rested thoughtfully on the young boy, and he nodded slowly, as though he had guessed Simon’s true reasons for asking. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘They did try to tease me. But they didn’t succeed.’

      ‘Because you’re big, and tough,’ hazarded Simon gloomily. ‘And could knock them down with a punch.’

      But

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