Caroline Anderson - Raw Deal

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

Title Page Raw Deal Caroline Anderson www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

‘SHE’S up to something, you know—have I told you the latest?’

Jo’s lips twitched at her friend’s outraged tone. ‘Which particular latest?’

Maggie Wells straightened from the incubator and grinned wryly.

‘Lucinda’s not going on the cruise. Says she thinks her health isn’t up to it—something about lassitude and being very run down.’

‘Maybe she is?’

Maggie snorted. ‘Lucinda? That old rascal’s as strong as an ox. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word lassitude! She’s on more committees than I’ve had hot dinners, and if she isn’t arranging the flowers in the cathedral she’s at some RMBF lunch party or else hatching my nuptials with her cronies. No, if I know my grandmother, there’s something sinister behind it, and I’ll give you three guesses what!’

‘You could always give in and marry one of these eligible young men——’

‘Are you kidding? I neither want nor need Lucinda’s help to find a husband. I’m quite capable of doing it on my own.’

‘Are you? When did you last go out for a serious date with a man you wanted to be with?’

Maggie met Jo’s eyes with habitual honesty. ‘I’m not sure I ever have, but one thing I am sure of— my grandmother isn’t any better at finding my Mr Right than I am!’

She jotted a reading down on the baby’s chart, and smiled at Jo. ‘Amy’s improving.’

They both looked at the baby, still unbelievably tiny but stronger with every day that passed. Her young, tragically drug-addicted mother had committed suicide the day after her birth, leaving a note putting the baby in Jo’s care. All that remained was to convince the Social Services that Jo and her new husband Alex were suitable adoptive parents—and that was by no means a foregone conclusion.

‘How are the adoption proceedings going?’ Maggie asked now, and Jo shrugged and gave a strained smile.

‘Slow, intrusive, very thorough. They have to be, don’t they? After all, Amy’s the important one.’

Maggie nodded. ‘I hope—you know …’

‘Yes—thanks, Maggie.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Have you got time for a quick coffee? I promised Annie I’d meet her at eleven.’

‘It’ll have to be a quick one.’

They left the quiet bustle of the special care baby unit and made their way down in the lift.

As the doors opened they met Alex Carter, Jo’s husband, and he dropped a kiss on Jo’s lips and smiled. ‘Ships in the night—how’s Amy?’

‘Better.’

‘Great—I’ll try and pop up later. Must go—I’ve got an emergency section. I don’t suppose you’ve got time to assist, Jo?’

‘Well—as it’s you …!’ She grinned at Maggie. ‘Duty calls, I’m afraid.’

Maggie watched as the lift doors slid shut on them, Jo tall and slender with enviable curves and a wild mane of dark red hair, Alex taller still, and good-looking in a soberly distinguished sort of way. Sober, that was, until you caught the way he looked at his wife.

Maggie felt an unexpected pang of envy. For all she complained about her grandmother’s conniving and matchmaking, she would love nothing more than to settle down with the right man.

She sighed. Perhaps she was just too darned fussy?

She found Anne Gabriel in the canteen, and explained that Jo had had to assist Alex with an emergency.

Anne nodded. ‘I just admitted her. Antepartum haemorrhage. If all goes well, you’ll have another baby upstairs to deal with.’

Maggie dropped into the low chair and sipped her coffee. They’ll be a few minutes yet. I’d better make the most of it.’

They look happy, don’t they?’ Anne said after a moment, and Maggie noticed that she looked wistful.

She gave a tiny, humourless laugh. ‘Yes, they do. I was just envying them a minute ago.’

Anne smiled. ‘Me too. Never mind, perhaps you’ll meet someone on this cruise—where are you going?’

‘Singapore and the Indonesian Islands—except I don’t think I am. My grandmother’s pulled out—says she’s ill.’

‘Oh, dear! Anything serious?’

Maggie snorted. ‘You jest. No, she’s up to something. I expect the captain is the emotionally crippled son of one of her bridge partners!’

Anne laughed. ‘Anyway, why does that stop you going?’

‘Well, I can’t go without her—she’s paid for my ticket so that I can accompany her. It wouldn’t be moral——’

Anne stared at her in amazement. ‘Are you nuts? She’s loaded! She could pay for that cruise out of her small change! I think you should go—she obviously intends you to.’

‘That,’ Maggie said wryly, ‘is what bothers me.’ She sipped her coffee again, and then met Anne’s eyes over the top of the cup. ‘Of course, it’s always possible that she really is sick … Perhaps I’ll go and see her.’

‘You do that—on the way to the airport! And if you decide not to go, give me a shout. I’ll take your ticket any day. I could cope with a week of luxury in the Far East!’

‘Ten days.’

‘Even better!’

Just then Maggie’s bleep went, and with a resigned sigh she put down her coffee. ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ she promised, and made her way over to the wall phone.

‘Dr Wells—you bleeped me.’

‘Oh, yes, Dr Wells, you’re wanted in Obstetric Theatre Two, please,’ the switchboard operator told her.

Maggie arrived in Theatre to find Alex and Jo just about to deliver the premature baby whose mother had had an antepartum haemorrhage.

‘Do we know the gestational age?’ she asked.

‘Twenty-six weeks,’ Alex said tersely, ‘and he doesn’t look any too large.’

As she was handed the tiny slippery mite, she bit her lip and frowned.

‘It’s going to be touch and go—he looks pretty flat,’ she said to no one in particular. ‘Let’s get him sucked out and get some oxygen into him, and I think he’s going to need surfactant. Could somebody call Peter Travers?’

Behind her she was conscious of Alex’s quiet requests and directions, and Jo’s calm response as they struggled to control the haemorrhage.

‘That’s more like it,’ Alex murmured, and Maggie felt the atmosphere lift a little. ‘How’s the baby?’

She shrugged. ‘Iffy. I’m doing what I can.’

‘It’s all we can do,’ Alex said steadyingly, continuing his fight for the mother.

Peter Travers, the head of Maggie’s firm, came into the room and took one look at the baby before shaking his head.

‘This one’s going to be all uphill,’ he muttered, warming his stethoscope and running it over the baby’s chest. ‘He’s got a murmur—it may settle.’ His voice was devoid of hope. ‘Right, let’s get him into SCBU and wire him up. He’s got this far, you never know.’

But he didn’t make it, and it was Maggie who was with the little boy and his father when he died. His mother had seen him and held him briefly when she came round, but her condition was still very weak and, apart from Maggie, the baby’s father was the only one there when he slipped qietly away.

Mr Grainger lifted his eyes to Maggie’s, and they were dazed with shock and pain. ‘He’s gone …’ he whispered.