‘Don’t try the mushy stuff with me. You’re being harsh. So, she spilt coffee and didn’t have time to change. Who hasn’t? Half the times I was called to a cardiac arrest, I went with half my lunch down me.’
‘Did you sleep in the hospital canteen too?’
Francesca shrugged. ‘Sometimes. If I’d been up all night on call, I might grab five minutes when I had to. Can you really say that you’ve never done that?’
He took in a deep breath and gave a conciliatory shrug too. ‘Okay, I might have.’
Francesca gave him a hard stare. ‘I’m just saying. This is the first time you’ve operated here. I’d try not to get on the wrong side of everyone you might come across if you’re going to be a visiting surgeon.’
‘Now who’s being harsh?’
Francesca started pulling up some results on a nearby computer. ‘Anyway. I would tread carefully. I’ve heard she’s got a nickname.’
‘A nickname?’
Francesca nodded and smiled. ‘Yep. Crabbie Rabbie.’
‘What?’ Harry frowned.
‘Something to do with Scotland’s national bard?’
‘I know who Rabbie Burns is.’
‘Well, apparently she got the nickname just after she arrived. Something to do with her strong accent and the fact she takes no prisoners with people she thinks are annoying.’
‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
‘Just that I think you’ve clearly just put yourself into the annoying category.’
He shook his head. ‘Oh, thanks for that.’ The door to the NICU opened and the day staff filed in, Esther among them.
Her dark hair was swept up in an elaborate plait. She still looked tired but maybe she’d put a little more make-up on, because there was more colour in her cheeks than there had been yesterday. She was wearing a different colour of scrubs today. Bright pink. He’d noticed the staff in the NICU wore different colours—sometimes even with child-friendly designs. The brighter colour made her not look quite so washed out.
It was odd. On any other day—with any other member of staff—he might actually have admitted that he thought she was quite attractive. But he didn’t have time for that. Harry didn’t usually date anyone from work. Too many complications. And he and Esther hadn’t exactly got off to a good start.
He wanted to ask if she was fit to work. He wanted to ask if she still had a temperature. He knew he wasn’t entitled to. Staff in NICUs were extremely familiar with the dangers of exposing babies to potential infections. He shouldn’t second-guess anyone.
Francesca tapped his arm. ‘Okay, I’m off to see another baby.’ She shot him another look. ‘Now, behave. Play nicely.’
He shook his head as she walked out the door.
* * *
Esther had raged last night as she’d tried to get to sleep. It was ridiculous. All day all she’d wanted to do was sleep, but actually put her in comfy pyjamas and give her her own bed and she lay there blinking and plotting horrible futures for that annoying surgeon. The man had even stolen her sleep from her.
She ignored the fact it was noisy outside, the pipes creaked, the radiators hissed and upstairs seemed to be having a party again. Her back might have ached a little too, and she’d needed to pee on numerous occasions. It was funny how when you finally got a diagnosis your body practically slapped you on the face with it. But no, it was none of those things that prevented her from sleeping; it was definitely smug Harry Beaumont with his entourage and unflattering words.
She burned from a few of the things he’d said to her. But most of all was his threat to ask for another midwife to be assigned to Billy. She was pretty sure that the charge nurse for the unit would give him short shrift. Oona was from Northern Ireland, and was much more like Esther in temperament than she cared to admit. She wouldn’t take kindly to some visiting surgeon dictating what happened in her NICU.
But as Esther walked through the door of NICU she could see Harry sitting at the nurses’ station. It was 6:50 in the morning and clearly her worst day in the world was just about to start.
It didn’t help that he was looking like Dr Delicious in his pale blue shirt that was a little damp around the collar. He’d obviously just showered and was currently charming the few staff around him; they were laughing and joking.
She braced herself, waiting for someone to tell her she couldn’t look after the little boy she’d spent the last few days tending to. Her eyes hesitantly went to the board. Esther McDonald was written next to Billy Rudd and Akshita Patel. She let out a sigh of relief and went straight over to hear the report.
Somehow she just knew that every single step of the way Harry’s eyes were watching. What was he waiting for?
She pointedly ignored him. Billy’s surgery had apparently gone well, which was a relief. She hurried over to his crib to get a look at him for herself, making sure she gave Jill a hug first.
His colour was different—straight away. Some people might not have found it obvious, but Esther was an experienced NICU member of staff and had always noticed the slight dusky tinge to Billy’s skin. Today, it was gone. His skin still had the translucence of a premature baby, but the colour had definitely improved.
She breathed and caught a scent. She tensed. She recognised it from yesterday, some kind of woody undertones. Harry. She was determined not to turn around.
Jill had got up and gone into the small kitchen in NICU to make herself a cup of tea.
‘Things went well?’ she asked Harry in an even tone. They might have got off to a bad start but there was no point in being uncivil.
‘Yes, and no,’ he said in a low voice.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, things took a little longer than expected. We ran into some problems. The surgery ended up taking about eight hours.’
Esther turned to face him in shock. She knew how long the surgery should have taken. ‘But...’
/> He shook his head. ‘It’s all under control. The surgery was successful. Billy will need regular reviews and be carefully monitored for the next few days, but—’ he paused and gave a slow nod of his head before his dark eyes met hers ‘—the next few days will be the most crucial.’
Her skin prickled. He wasn’t saying anything out loud. But it felt like he was accusing her of something.
‘Experience with these babies tells me that if something is going to go wrong, it generally happens in the first forty-eight hours after surgery.’
The time when she was part of the team watching Billy.
She tilted her chin, part of her felt defiant, and part of her felt distinctly annoyed by his unsaid implication.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. She knew when surgery had started yesterday. If it had taken eight hours, it couldn’t have finished until well after midnight. Harry had already been here when she’d come in for her shift. She knew she hadn’t slept last night, but had he?
‘Are you staying close by? You’ve had a quick turnaround.’
She wasn’t even sure where the observation came from, and the instant it came out her mouth she wasn’t entirely comfortable with how it sounded.
But Harry didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’m only a few miles away in Belgravia, but I stayed here last night to keep an eye on Billy.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded. Belgravia. Of course. He was supposed to be some kind of royalty, wasn’t he? Of course that’s where he’d stay. Not like herself, who had to travel nearly an hour each day to get to work.
He pulled something from his pocket, then cleared his throat. ‘I left a note for the NICU nurse last night about all the things I wanted monitored in Billy.’
She glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. ‘I do know how to do postoperative care, Harry. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.’ There was no way she was touching that list. Her eyes quickly ran down it. It was what they would do for every baby postsurgery, with the exception of one test that could easily be ordered with the rest of the blood work.