The cubicle curtains swished open, revealing a confident Kieran with a boggle-eyed Barbara in tow. Another victim. Careful, or you’ll be dribbling. Abby sighed. As if she could talk. From the moment she’d met Kieran she’d fallen under his spell. Even if he hadn’t been so good looking and sexy, he only had to open his mouth and speak in that lyrical accent and her knees weakened.
‘I hear some stitches are required.’ Kieran spoke into the sudden quiet.
There, just as she’d thought. The Irish lilt. Her knees were ready to dump her on the floor, despite her wariness of him. ‘Darren, this is Dr Flynn. Darren’s one of our regulars. I’m just going to get his file. I want to check on something. Barbara can assist you, Doctor.’
His brow creased but he didn’t try to stop her leaving the cubicle that felt as small as a kennel with five people crammed in there. Especially with Kieran present, all the air seemed to have disappeared. She needed to put space between them before she became a brainless ninny. She’d better get over herself. And especially get over Kieran. At least the accusatory tone Kieran had directed as he’d left her house had gone, no doubt put aside for a more suitable time.
Darren’s file lay in the in-tray at the nurses’ station. Sinking onto a chair, she read through the notes recording a previous broken arm, and on three separate occasions he’d had cuts requiring stitches. No mention of bruising. So why the excessive bruising today? Her heart slowed. She didn’t like to think about what the sudden onset of severe bruising could mean.
Pete sat down beside her to write up notes on his patient. Peering at her file, he asked, ‘Why are you interested in that?’
‘That Darren’s file?’ Kieran asked from above her.
‘Yes.’ How had she missed his approach? She thought she had extra-supersensory feelings whenever Kieran was around. Looking up, she saw him watching her intently. What did he see? Someone suitable to bring up his niece? And his son? Or a woman who he’d once enjoyed a few special hours with? What did he remember of that night in Dublin?
‘Are you worried about Darren? You seem a little distracted.’
Of course she was distracted. Who wouldn’t be in the circumstances? With a flick of her ponytail she focused on their patient.
‘I’m not sure. Darren falls off his skateboard a lot. But I can’t find any record here of severe bruising associated with previous injuries. He’s got bruises in more places than I’d expect from this morning’s accident.’
Pete said, ‘He’s a boy. Of course he’s always falling off and getting bruised. Nothing sinister there.’
But Kieran took her doubts seriously. ‘Are you worried that there might be a medical cause?’
‘Yes. I think we should be investigating further.’ She didn’t go as far as to say what tests she’d do if it was up to her. Occasionally even she knew when to keep quiet.
Pete muttered, ‘If Dr Flynn has checked him out, why are you concerned?’
‘Abigail has a valid point. Darren’s bruising is abnormal. It doesn’t hurt to take another look. Better to find she’s wrong than send the boy away with an illness we overlooked. Always listen to your staff. They see things you might not.’
Abby knew Pete would give her a hard time about this later, but it felt good to have her concerns taken seriously. After all, she did have some knowledge about these things.
‘I’m going to take a blood sample from Darren. Clotting factors and a blood count. Is that what you had in mind?’ Kieran cocked an eyebrow at her.
‘Yes. But I hope I’m wrong about the diagnosis I’m considering.’
Unfortunately she wasn’t. The lab rang within an hour.
‘Darren has leukaemia.’ Kieran’s jaw tightened. ‘We’re sending him to Day Stay for a pathologist to do a bone-marrow aspiration to determine the type.’
Abby’s heart squeezed for Darren and his father. Their lives were about to be turned upside down and inside out. Their situation was unimaginable for any parent.
‘I’d better go and tell Jim.’ Kieran stood as though glued to the floor. His hand dragged down his cheek. ‘I hate this part of the job.’ Then he muttered something like, ‘And today it seems worse.’
‘Want me to come with you? Or sit with Darren while you take his father to your office?’ Abby didn’t know how she’d cope if anyone ever had to tell her something as devastating about Seamus or Olivia.
‘How does a parent deal with this?’ Kieran croaked.
She shivered. ‘Let’s hope we never have to find out.’
Telling Jim Shore that his fun-loving son was gravely ill and needed more tests had been one of the hardest things Kieran had ever had to do.
For some inexplicable reason young Darren’s plight rocked him on a deep personal level. For the first time during his career as an emergency specialist the sense of regret and pain for his patient felt too close. He couldn’t understand his feelings, but they were very real. He’d always found this side of his job hard but today was especially difficult.
Other patients awaiting his attention gave him a much-needed distraction. But later, when the pathologist phoned down as a matter of courtesy to tell him that the bone-marrow results showed acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, Kieran’s head spun. Even though he’d been expecting the result, he found it difficult to accept. He’d known what the initial results meant. But Darren was a child, a happy boy full of life.
Just like Seamus. What if something like this happened to his little boy? Would he survive the pain of watching his son becoming extremely ill? How did a man cope as he watched his child being put through intensive and painful treatment?
Abby touched his shoulder lightly. ‘Are you all right? I saw you on the phone.’
He shook his head. ‘That was the pathologist confirming Darren has ALL.’
Sadness and horror filled Abby’s eyes before she quickly turned away, murmuring, ‘These are the days I hate my job.’
‘I know what you mean.’ But today felt worse than ever before. Today he understood on a deeper level what Jim Shore might be feeling. And it was sure to be a lot worse than Kieran could imagine. A band of pain throbbed in the back of his head.
Abby said, ‘I feel like rushing to the crèche and hugging the kids tight, to reassure myself they’re fine and that nothing can touch them.’
‘A natural response, I’d have thought.’ He squeezed her hand before moving away. ‘Take five to go and see them.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her eyes widened. Surprised he could be so understanding?
‘Absolutely.’ Well, he surprised himself at his sense of helplessness right now. The only thing he could think to do was send Abby to see the children.
Her smile was thanks enough. ‘Come with me. Seeing the kids might make you feel a bit better.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I’m needed here.’ As head of the department, how would it look to the staff if he went charging off to see his niece just because of the diagnosis on one of his patients? Damn it, they’d be sending him home in no time at all.
He tried not to watch Abby as she raced away. The ultimate mother with all the right instincts. Could he even come close to that as an uncle or father? Vulnerability squeezed his gut. Sweat pricked his skin. Despite his denials, those two children were already overtaking his determination to remain aloof.
Did that mean he’d begun accepting he had a son? With all the connotations of what that meant? No. It was far too soon for him to be ready. He would never be ready. But the control he had over his life was rapidly becoming a myth.
HOPE. The sign flashed by, and this time Kieran didn’t even slow down. He didn’t know why the compulsion to see Olivia and Seamus felt so strong, didn’t understand the need to reassure himself they were healthy and happy.
To be sure, he knew they were all of those things and more. But he had to see for himself. His hands gripped the steering-wheel, stones flicked up as he braked hard outside Abby’s cottage. Abby. How did he explain his mad rush from town at nine o?
??clock at night? She’d think he’d gone crazy.
But it was almost as though she’d expected him if the lack of surprise in those expressive eyes was anything to go by. ‘Hey, want a coffee? I’ve just made a plunger full.’
‘That would be lovely. But don’t move. I’ll get it.’
What was really lovely was Abby. Her legs were curled under her bottom as she sat in an old rocker on the veranda. A magazine lay open on her lap, her hair spilling around her face, her hands lightly holding her mug. Her soft mouth relaxed into a welcoming smile. The efficient, serious nurse he’d worked beside that day had been put away for the night.
‘Thanks. You know where everything is. I’m catching the last of the sun now that the kids are asleep.’
His heart lurched. Disappointment warred with relief. Olivia and Seamus were asleep. He could take a quick peek and get out of here. Forget the coffee. It would keep him awake half the night anyway.