Alison Roberts - The Night Before Christmas

Oh, Lord! Why did he have to be so young?

So impossibly good looking? And … nice , damn it.

And why, oh, why had she let herself step into fantasyland in the dead of night and imagine just what it would be like to be touched by him?

Maybe her reaction was obvious in the way Lizzie was prising herself off her chair to follow Dr Kingsley’s instructions.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she heard Jack say. ‘I’ll catch up with the test results later today before we go and visit Misty.’

‘Misty Matthews? She’s in Room 3. You must be Dr Rousseau.’ The nurse’s tone was awed. ‘Welcome to Westbridge.’

‘Thank you. I’m due to meet Dave Kingsley to review this patient. Is he here already?’

‘He was but he got a call up to the ICU. He said to look after you until he got back. Would you like a coffee?’

Jack shook his head. ‘My time is a little limited. I’ll go and see Misty now, if I may.’

‘Of course. This way.’

The whole family was in the small room.

‘This is Dr Rousseau,’ Lizzie told the child in the bed. ‘He’s the doctor who’s going to help Dr Kingsley take Mummy’s kidney out and give it to you.’

‘Hi, there.’ Jack took a step closer to the bed. His shirt collar felt inexplicably tight and he found himself loosening his tie.

He never felt comfortable around small people. They could see too much and had no hesitation in saying whatever came into their heads and sometimes he had no idea how to respond. Or he didn’t understand what on earth they were talking about. Or, worse, they’d cry. A lot.

Misty wasn’t crying. She wasn’t saying anything either. Lizzie was sitting in a chair beside the bed and Holly was right beside the pillow, tilted in as if she wanted to be as close as possible to her twin. The resemblance between the twins was striking. Or maybe it was the difference between them that was making Jack feel like there wasn’t quite enough oxygen in this private room.

Or it could be due to the way Lizzie was sitting, with her arms on Misty’s bed as she leaned forward to talk to the little girl. The way it was making her cleavage so obvious, pushing mounds of skin that looked incredibly smooth and soft into a line of sight he couldn’t avoid to save himself.

Well, he could, but that would mean meeting the intense stares that were coming from both Holly and the older woman in the armchair by the window.

‘You’re going to help with both operations?’ The older woman sounded as wary as she looked.

‘Not at the same time.’ Jack tried his most charming smile. ‘Lizzie’s first and then we go next door to Misty.’

The sniff wasn’t impressed. ‘Doesn’t Misty need a paediatric specialist for her surgery?’

‘Mum …’ Lizzie sounded embarrassed. ‘We talked about this. And you heard what the nurses said about … Jack.’ Her quick glance in his direction was appealingly shy. ‘It wasn’t that I was checking up on you or anything. They were all talking about how famous you are in your field and how lucky we are to have you involved in our case.’

Lizzie’s mother was giving her a stern look. ‘Oh … Jack , now, is it?’

‘We got to know each other this morning,’ Jack said. ‘Didn’t we, Lizzie?’

Her head bobbed. A touch of pink bloomed on her cheeks and she could only meet his gaze for a heartbeat. Jack turned his head back to her mother and extended his hand.

‘Jack Rousseau,’ he said, with another smile. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs …’

‘Donaldson.’ Her gaze took a moment to meet his. She had been watching Lizzie rather carefully and she clearly hadn’t missed any undercurrent. It was definitely too hot in this room. ‘Maggie,’ she continued. ‘Excuse me if I don’t get up.’

‘Mum’s got a bad hip,’ Lizzie said.

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Jack leaned down to make it easy to shake hands. Maggie’s grip was surprisingly firm.

‘I’m on the waiting list for a replacement.’ The tone was matter-of-fact. Her own physical impairment was an inconvenience that was being dealt with. ‘Next year some time. Perhaps.’

The implications were not lost on Jack. This was Lizzie’s mother. The grandmother of the two fatherless girls. Lizzie had moved in with her mother to keep Misty closer to this hospital and must be relying on her heavily for help. Being in hospital herself for at least the next few days would make Maggie’s role even more vital. There were pressures going on here that were huge. Important. Maybe he could have a word with someone in Orthopaedics and see if there was any way of getting a priority sticker put on Maggie’s case.

A warning bell sounded somewhere in his head. Just how involved was he trying to get here? Maggie’s hip was well outside the orbit of what he should be concentrating on. He was here because of Misty. And Lizzie and their complementary surgeries that he was going to document. Whatever else was going on in his patients’ worlds had absolutely nothing to do with him .

‘It’s Dr Kingsley that is actually doing the surgeries,’ he told Maggie. ‘Lizzie has kindly agreed to let me document them on film so that I can use them for the purpose of giving lectures. The reason for the same surgeon doing both of the operations is to have things matched up perfectly. Think of it like a jigsaw puzzle. If I cut a piece out myself, I can put it back in exactly the right place. That is something I want to be able to demonstrate to other surgeons.’

‘He likes to tick all the boxes.’ Lizzie nodded. ‘For himself.’

‘I’m not a jigsaw puzzle,’ Misty said. ‘I’m … me.’

Jack moved back to the bed. He loosened his tie a little more. He even undid the top button of his shirt. ‘You are, indeed,’ he told Misty. ‘And I’m Dr Jack. How are you feeling?’

Misty said nothing. Was it too general a question for a child? The look he was receiving made him feel as though it had been a stupid question. And maybe it was. Misty’s arm was heavily bandaged and plastic tubes snaked from under the covers to the dialysis machine that was whirring quietly as it did its job to make sure her blood was as clean as possible before tomorrow’s surgery. She was pale and thin and was probably quite used to feeling a lot less than well.

He tried again. ‘Does anything hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Are you worried about the operation?’

‘No. The nurse showed me all about it with the teddy bear. And Mummy says you and Dr Dave are going to take the best care of me.’

‘Did she?’ Jack couldn’t help shifting his gaze to Lizzie. He met a very steady look. One that said she was trusting him but he’d better not let her down.

Fair enough. He didn’t intend to.

‘I’m going to read your chart,’ he told Misty. ‘And see what they tell me about all the tests you had today. Dr … Dave will be here soon so that we can talk about you and Mummy and make sure we’re all set for tomorrow morning.’

‘Are you going to read Mummy’s chart too?’ It was Holly who asked the question.

Jack smiled at her. ‘I’ve already done that.’

‘Did I pass?’ Lizzie’s tone was carefully casual.

‘With flying colours.’ The atmosphere in the room lightened just a little. ‘And when I’ve read Misty’s I’m going to give her a quick check-up. Unless Dr Dave is back here by then.’

It took a few minutes to get himself up to speed with the chart and the latest results in Misty’s notes. He was aware of Lizzie moving around the room, straightening things up, and of the twins having a whispered conversation that nobody else could hear.

When he finished, he nodded in satisfaction and unhooked the stethoscope from around his neck. ‘Can I have a listen to your heart and lungs?’ he asked Misty.