Jennifer Taylor - The Italian Doctor

Maggie just managed to smother a giggle when he winked at her. He was obviously having difficulty keeping his face straight as well. Lauren was chuckling softly, a hand pressed to her mouth to contain her mirth. She looked a world removed from the unhappy teenager who’d been admitted a short time earlier, so Maggie had no qualms whatsoever about what they were doing. Lauren would benefit greatly from a breathing space away from her overbearing mother, in her view.

‘Thank you, Staff. You know where to find me if there’s a problem,’ Luke said with commendable aplomb as they moved away from the bed.

‘Oh, never fear! I’ll have you paged if there’s any backlash from this,’ Maggie retorted, following him down the ward. He paused to open the door for her and she felt her pulse skitter when she saw the laughter on his face. He looked so different when he laughed like that, she thought. It was like being given a glimpse of the real man beneath the handsome exterior, a warm, caring person whom she could learn to like a lot.

‘I’m always at your service, Maggie, although I would prefer not to have to deal with an irate mother if it could be avoided.’ There was an unashamedly coaxing note in his voice as he placed his hand on her arm. ‘So try your best to persuade Mrs Atkins that she isn’t needed here—for my sake?’

She took a deep breath. The touch of his hand was setting up a chain of reactions that ranged from a flutter beneath her skin to a tingle that was working its way right down to her toes. The temptation to see what other reactions it might cause was enormous but something warned her that would come under the heading of ‘Big Mistake’ and she tried to avoid making too many of those!

She moved away so that his hand fell from her arm, striving for a suitably light note to hide her confusion at the way she was behaving. ‘I’ll do my best, although I can’t make any promises, you understand.’

Luke’s smile appeared a trifle strained. ‘Your best is good enough for me.’

There was a moment when she thought that he was going to say something else but then his pager beeped. He frowned as he unclipped it from his belt and checked the display. ‘Theatre. I wonder what’s wrong. I’d better go and see. Page me if you have any problems, Staff.’

He was back to normal again, his tone coolly professional once more. Maggie sighed as he hurried towards the lifts, feeling the tension oozing out of her. It was good to be back on a firm footing again. She far preferred the status quo to any surprises when dealing with Luke.

She went to find Mrs Atkins, expecting to have a battle on her hands. However, the older woman accepted what she told her without question.

‘What did you say to her?’ Lauren asked in astonishment as her mother happily waved on her way out of the ward. ‘It just isn’t like Mum not to make a fuss!’

Maggie shrugged, although she had to admit to being surprised by Gloria Atkins’s easy acquiescence. ‘I just told her that Dr Fabrizzi had suggested you should rest. She seemed quite happy to accept it.’

‘Figures.’ Lauren gave a relieved sigh. ‘He sort of exudes confidence, doesn’t he? It’s no wonder that Mum’s decided he knows what he’s talking about. I just wish I could bottle some of his confidence and take it home with me when I leave here. Maybe I’d be able to stand up for myself then.’

Maggie didn’t say anything. Frankly, there wasn’t much she could think of to say. She left Lauren fiddling with the radio and went back to work. Doreen and Angela came back from lunch soon afterwards and then the other new admissions arrived. The afternoon flew past because they were so busy but several times she found her thoughts returning to what Lauren had said about Luke. It disturbed her because it made her question her own view of him once again.

Had she been wrong about him all along? Had she misread his confidence for arrogance? She couldn’t decide and that was the real problem, of course. She would need a lot more to go on before she was prepared to alter her opinion of him.

There was a party being held that night to which Maggie had been invited. One of the nurses from the surgical ward, who worked a different shift, had got engaged, and she and her fiancé had invited everyone round to their house to celebrate. Everyone was meeting up at the pub beforehand so it was a bit of rush to get ready once she arrived home.

She took a shower and washed her hair. She tried to avoid using a hair-dryer whenever possible because her hair was naturally curly and tended to frizz up. However, with time marching on, she had no choice but to use the dryer that night, which resulted in a frothy mass of curls which defied all her attempts to pin them up.

Sighing, she decided that she didn’t have the time to do anything else. She simply brushed her hair then left it loose. It didn’t look too bad, she decided critically after she’d slipped into a raspberry pink blouse and pair of silky grey trousers. The tousled look was a bit girlish perhaps but it could have been worse.

She slid her bare feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals then grabbed her bag and headed for the door. It was mid-August and the night was warm enough for her not to need a coat. However, she began to rue her choice of footwear before she’d gone very far. She wasn’t used to wearing such high heels and her feet were hurting by the time she arrived at the pub, a huge blister already forming on her heel where the strap had been rubbing. Still, the sandals looked a lot more glamorous than her usual sensible flatties so she would just have to grin and bear it.

‘Maggie! Over here. We’ve saved you a seat.’ Angela stood up and waved when she saw Maggie coming in. The pub was used a lot by staff from the hospital and it was packed that night. It had just gone eight and the middle shift had just finished work; quite a few of them had stopped off for a drink on their way home.

‘Thanks! What a scrum. Anyone would think we were all alcoholics if they saw how many hospital staff used this place,’ she declared pithily, squeezing into a gap on the wooden settle.

‘Not that any of us fall into that category, of course,’ Donna Parsons put in, rolling her eyes expressively. ‘We aren’t here for the drink but purely for the pleasure of each other’s company!’

‘Speak for yourself. I make no bones about the fact that I need a drink after the day I’ve had!’ Robin White, the newest houseman on the surgical team, picked up his pint glass and took a long swallow. ‘At one point I found myself wondering why I had willingly gone in for medicine as a career. I mean, I could have been a solicitor or an accountant or…or anything rather than a doctor!’

Everyone laughed, but Maggie could tell that Robin hadn’t been joking. Something had obviously upset him that day and she couldn’t help wondering what had caused the normally easygoing young doctor to feel like that.

‘So what happened?’ she asked under cover of the conversation.

‘What didn’t happen would be an easier question to answer!’ Robin set his glass on a coaster. His pleasant face looked unusually grim. ‘We had an emergency in Theatre. Jefferson was operating on this chap who had been thrown off his motorbike and suffered multiple fractures. He was a mess, I can tell you, and it was obvious that old Jeffers was out of his depth.’

Maggie sighed. Norman Jefferson had worked at Dalverston General for more years than anyone could care to count. It was rumoured that he’d refused to retire when he’d been offered the chance a few months earlier. There was no doubt that he must have been a skilled surgeon in his younger days, but those days were long past. Frankly, it was fast reaching the point where he was becoming a liability. Maggie knew that the surgical team had a tacit agreement to make sure that Jefferson was never left to deal with any difficult surgery by himself, but obviously the system had fallen down that day.