Tina Beckett - Cinderella And The Surgeon / Miracle Baby For The Midwife

‘What?’ Well, that had certainly gotten her attention.

‘I’m sorry. But I can’t take the risk of performing this surgery and having his postoperative care compromised.’

‘How dare you!’ she hissed at him. She glanced down. ‘What? Because I have a little coffee spilled on my scrubs and I haven’t had a chance to get changed yet, and because I dared to close my eyes in the hospital canteen, you’ve decided I’m not fit to do my job? Just who do you think you are?’

He cringed. He hadn’t exactly said those words but it was certainly how he’d felt. ‘I think you’re sick,’ he said quickly. ‘I think you might need to be checked over, and have a few days’ rest.’ He could see a couple of other staff members looking their way—as if they’d picked up that something was wrong. The last thing he wanted when he was taking up a position here was to cause a ruckus with the staff.

‘My priority is my patient,’ he said quietly but firmly.

‘And mine isn’t?’ He could tell she was mad.

That wasn’t what he meant, even though he’d clearly just implied it. But then again, did he really want this midwife looking after his patient if she wasn’t at the top of her game?

Francesca glared at him from over her computer. Oh no. That didn’t usually happen. Francesca normally had his back.

He took a deep breath. ‘Esther, I have to call things the way I see it. I think you’re running a temp and maybe need to take some time off. You agreed you’d go down to A&E and get checked over. Why don’t you do that and we’ll take it from there.’ It was a compromise. But it was the best he could do right now.

She kept her face entirely straight and pulled up a few things on the computer and grabbed the chart from the base of Billy’s crib.

‘Here, Mr Beaumont. I’d like you to check my work. Here’s all the orders I made for Billy on my shifts for the last few days. Here’s all my nursing notes. Here’s every temp, blood pressure, pulse and respiratory rate. Here’s his medications I’ve administered, and his feeding. Here’s his skin care chart. Here’s his colour chart. Here’s how many times I’ve sounded his chest to ensure that it remains clear. Here is exactly how many times he’s had a wet or dirty nappy.’ She pulled up a final chart. ‘And here’s how many times I’ve had to chase doctors, other departments, test results…all to ensure Billy’s care is up to my standards.’ She held herself very still, but there was the tiniest tremble in her voice. ‘I want you to take the time to look at what I’ve done. Because I record everything, meticulously .’ She emphasized the word, then gave a wave of her hand. ‘And once you’ve done that, I can pull up all the same information for his mother, and you can check my recordings for Jill too.’ She paused for a few seconds as he glanced over what she’d handed him. ‘Unfortunately I’m not on shift twenty-four hours a day, so I’ve only given you what I’ve done for Billy. Hospitals have emergencies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Blood machines break down. Feeding tubes dislodge and can’t be safely used again until there’s been an x-ray that’s been checked by a physician. I’m not responsible for other people’s time constraints.’

He was checking. She was right. He couldn’t deny it. Her recording was meticulous. Some of the best he’d ever seen, and he’d been in a lot of NICU units.

She’d felt warm to the touch earlier, but as she’d moved closer as she spoke to him he couldn’t hear any sign of a wheeze or rasp in her breathing. Every person was different. Maybe she didn’t have an infection. Maybe he was overreacting. It could be that her body temperature just ran at the top end of normal. It happened.

What was clear was he couldn’t tell her why he’d overreacted. He couldn’t tell her that deep down there was an underlying paranoia about his patients and their welfare.

Before he could blink she’d stepped right up in front of him, her accent thick but perfectly legible. ‘You know, Harry, I’m actually glad that you’re here. Because even though you’re an insufferably arrogant fool, I know how much Billy needs this surgery. And I put him first. Always. But I’m only going to say this once. Don’t ever talk to me like that again and don’t ever question my professionalism or my competency at work.’ She put both hands on her hips. ‘I wish you luck with Billy’s surgery today, but after that, I hope I never have to see your sorry ass in here again.’ And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Harry feeling about as welcome as a thorn in a space suit.

Francesca tutted and gave him a sarcastic smile. ‘Well done, Harry. First day on a new job and you’ve made friends.’ She picked up her bag. ‘And to be honest,’ she said in a low voice as she walked past. ‘Against her? I don’t fancy your chances at all.’

THE SIGNS HAD been there but she’d been too busy to pick them up—looking after Jill, worrying about her mum. Esther cursed herself all the way down the stairs towards A&E. She hated the fact that it took that pompous prince, duke or whatever he claimed to be to point them out before the penny had finally dropped for her.

Abi had told her to go on down for the check while she took care of Billy but Esther already knew exactly what was wrong with her. She’d ducked into the treatment room and took her own temperature. Yip. She was burning up. She grabbed some paracetamol from her handbag. She had to start somewhere.

Rob, one of the advanced nurse practitioners, was at the nurses’ station in the middle of the A&E department. He took one look. ‘You okay?’

She shook her head. ‘I think I’ve got an upper UTI. Can I borrow you for five minutes?’

He nodded. ‘Sure.’ Then he smiled and handed her a specimen bottle. ‘Let’s get you sorted.’

It took a little more than five minutes because Rob liked to be thorough. Once he heard her past history of having kidney problems as a child, leaving her prone to upper urinary tract infections, he gave a little nod, dipsticked her urine, rechecked her temp and listened to her symptoms of fatigue and an aching lower back.

‘You couldn’t come down earlier?’

She sighed. ‘I’d felt a bit tired but my back only started aching this morning and the new neonatal cardiac surgeon arrived today so I’ve been flat out dealing with him too.’

He gave her a nod and scribbled some notes. ‘What normally works best?’

She told him the name of the antibiotic that normally resolved her infections and he scribbled a prescription, then went to one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle, signing a form to record it. ‘Okay, so I won’t make you trek to the pharmacy. But I’m still sending your sample away to make sure you’re on the right antibiotic. Results should be on the system tomorrow. I’m working then—will I give you a call?’

Esther gave a grateful nod. The computer system in the Queen Victoria meant that no staff could access their own records or results—no matter how tempting it was. ‘Perfect. Thanks, Rob.’

‘Any time. Not many perks to being in the NHS. We’ve got to look after our own. Are you going to take some time off?’

‘Me?’ She smiled and shook her head. ‘As soon as I start taking these, they usually work fast. This time tomorrow I’ll start to feel better. I’ll just take some paracetamol until then.’

He gave a nod. ‘Fine, but let me know if there’s anything else you need.’

‘An assassination attempt on a visiting surgeon, maybe?’

Rob looked up in surprise. ‘He’s annoyed Crabbie Rabbie? Wow, he’s brave.’

She waved her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve told him how much I love him already. Hopefully he’ll do his surgery, fix my baby and leave.’