The Heart Consultant's Lover. Kate Hardy

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       CHAPTER TWO

      BY THE start of her shift on Wednesday, Miranda felt as if she’d always worked at Calderford General. All the staff on the coronary care unit seemed to accept her as part of the team—including Jack, she thought with relief—and she’d settled into the ward routine.

      Wednesday morning’s angina clinic flew by and Miranda kept her lunch-break short, to make sure she was on time for her theatre appointment with Imogen Parker. But just before Imogen was due to have her pre-med, the phone rang in Miranda’s office.

      ‘Miranda Turner.’

      ‘Hi, Miranda, it’s Jordan Francis.’

      There was only one reason she could think of why the theatre manager would call her. ‘Hi, Jordan. I hope you’re not going to tell me there’s a problem with my two o’clock,’ she said, keeping her voice light.

      ‘’Fraid so.’

      ‘Majax?’ she asked, using the hospital’s shorthand term for ‘major accident’ or ‘major incident’—meaning that the A and E department needed all the theatre slots to deal with surgical emergencies.

      ‘Um, no.’

      She picked up on the slight trace of guilt in his voice. ‘Jordan, I know it’s not your fault, but CCU booked that slot for a reason. If there isn’t a major emergency, why are you pulling the slot?’

      ‘The prof needs it.’

      ‘Why?’ she asked, knowing that she was putting the theatre manager on the spot but unable to stop herself.

      Jordan sounded uncomfortable. ‘He’s booked a demonstration.’

      ‘Oh, has he?’ she said crossly. ‘Don’t tell me—he said I wouldn’t mind.’ She scowled. She should have guessed her father would pull a stunt like this. Well, he’d soon find that she wasn’t a pushover any more. ‘Jordan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. Thanks for letting me know. When’s the next available two-hour slot?’

      ‘Friday morning, half-past nine. Do you want me to book you in?’

      ‘Yes, please. And, Jordan?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘If anyone tries to override it—unless it’s a majax—can you refer them to me, please?’

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘Cheers.’

      ‘Um, Miranda, I was wondering…would you like to come out for a drink with me? Or dinner, or something?’

      ‘Yes, that’d be nice.’

      ‘Tomorrow?’

      ‘Sorry. I’m on a late. How about Monday?’

      ‘Great. I’ll book somewhere…say, for seven? And do you like Italian?’

      ‘Seven’s fine and I love Italian—thanks. Talk to you soon.’

      She cut the connection, rang the professor’s secretary and asked to speak to him.

      ‘I’m afraid he’s with someone, Miranda. He’s on his way to a demonstration.’

      ‘It’ll only take ten seconds, Ally. Promise. And it’s urgent. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.’

      ‘All right. As it’s you.’

      A second later, a testy voice informed her, ‘Miranda, I don’t have time to talk to you right now. I’m about to do a demonstration.’

      ‘I know. In my theatre slot.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, you were only doing an angioplasty. It’s a routine operation. You can reschedule.’

      ‘My patient has unstable angina.’ Didn’t that mean anything to him? Had he forgotten May so easily? ‘If she has an MI before I can do the angioplasty, I’ll have to do an emergency bypass and I don’t want to put her through that.’

      ‘It’s not that likely, and you’re making a fuss.’

      ‘Too right I am, Professor.’

      His voice hardened. ‘Don’t you take that tone with me. I’m your father.’

      ‘We’re at work. Which means I’m a doctor first and your daughter second.’

      ‘Miranda, I don’t have time for this!’

      She knew exactly what that meant. ‘Don’t tell me you discussed it over lunch, thought it was a good idea, saw my name on the list and decided that I’d make the least fuss about losing my slot. Wrong. I expect exactly the same treatment—the same courtesy—as you’d give any of your other consultants. Why didn’t you ask me first?’

      ‘We’ll talk about this later.’

      ‘Fine. And you’ll have my formal letter of complaint on your desk when you get back.’

      ‘This demonstration’s important. It could bring money into the hospital.’

      ‘And money’s more important than a patient’s health?’ Miranda asked scornfully. ‘This wasn’t an elective op. I’d have understood if there was a majax, but a demo? Why couldn’t your VIPs watch one of the scheduled operations?’

      ‘Don’t be difficult.’

      She could feel her blood pressure rising. After all the years she’d spent training—all the exams she’d taken—he still treated her like a four-year-old who knew nothing, instead of a highly qualified thirty-two-year-old. ‘Difficult? Some would say I was СКАЧАТЬ