The Pregnant Registrar. Carol Marinelli

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ doctor really up to such a demanding job? But even though she’d rather be considered unfit than uncaring, Lydia still didn’t speak up and it was left to Corey to conclude this difficult conversation.

      ‘Well, thankfully there was no harm done this time. The emergency was dealt with and the baby’s fine, but next time you receive a fast-page…’

      ‘I’ll be here,’ Lydia said firmly, meeting his assured eyes with a determined glare of her own, grateful for a tiny reprieve when the door flung open and a young nurse breezed in.

      ‘Sorry to interrupt. I need your signature, Corey.’ Waving a drug chart under his nose, the young nurse looked over and gave Lydia the benefit of a very nice smile.

      ‘I’m Jo.’

      ‘Lydia,’ Lydia responded, aware of Corey’s eyes on hers and trying to beat back a beastly blush as she dropped her title.

      ‘Welcome to the madhouse.’ Retrieving the chart from Corey, she made to go. ‘Are you feeling better?’

      ‘Sorry?’ Lydia looked up sharply as Jo gave an apologetic shrug.

      ‘I saw you dashing into the toilet, I doubt you noticed me. I, er, think you were in rather a hurry. If you need a cuppa or anything, just call. Corey makes it like treacle, not exactly the best thing for morning sickness.’

      There was the longest silence after she’d gone, filled only by the sound of Corey filling another mug with tea and thankfully pulling the teabag out before it assumed mud-like proportions.

      ‘Sugar?’

      Lydia nodded. ‘Just one, though.’

      ‘Why didn’t you say?’ Corey asked finally as he placed a steaming mug in front of her, watching as Lydia took a hesitant sip, closing her eyes as the hot sweet liquid hit its mark, warm and soothing and, thankfully, staying put. ‘Why didn’t you just say that you weren’t very well?’

      Lydia took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want you to think I was making excuses.’ She gave a brief shrug. ‘Look, the hospital’s been fantastic. I can’t believe I got the job, given the circumstances.’ She registered his frown. ‘Pregnancy doesn’t normally work in one’s favour when looking for a job.’

      ‘But it did in this case?’

      Lydia shrugged. ‘I’ve got a full-time position for three months while Jackie Gibb’s off on maternity leave, and then, when I come back, we’ll job share. Dr Browne was forward thinking enough to realise that, rather than lose Jackie altogether, job share might be the solution. Most part-time jobs are filled by mothers.’

      ‘Which you soon will be?’

      Her rather nervous smile didn’t go unnoticed. ‘Apparently so.’ She looked down at her softly swollen stomach, disguised under baggy theatre blues but still pretty evident none the less. ‘I’ve got four months to go.’

      It was Corey frowning now. ‘I thought morning sickness only lasted for three months or so.’

      ‘So did I,’ Lydia groaned. ‘Apparently I’m the exception to the rule, though it’s not as bad as it was. At least now it’s living up to its name and only confined to the mornings.’

      ‘You had it pretty bad, then?’ Corey asked as Lydia grimaced.

      ‘It was awful. For the most part it’s gone now, but for some reason, within half an hour of stepping into a hospital, no matter how well I feel…’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll spare you the details. But once it’s over, it’s over, at least until the next day.’

      ‘Must be the smell,’ Corey mused. ‘My sister used to say just the smell of the place made her feel dizzy every time she came to see me at work.’

      ‘Used to?’ Lydia looked up, hopeful Corey was about to reveal his sister’s secret, a remedy perhaps that she hadn’t heard about, but from his stance she soon realised she’d picked up on something rather personal and dropped the subject as Corey deftly ignored her question, standing up and gesturing towards the door. ‘How about I give you that handover?’

      Taking a last quick sip of her tea, Lydia stood up and for the first time since their awkward meeting they managed a simultaneous smile. ‘About before,’ Lydia started, but Corey waved a large hand dismissively.

      ‘Forget it. Now, I know there was a reason…’

      ‘I—I meant the first-name business,’ Lydia stammered. ‘I really do prefer Lydia—I don’t know what I must have been thinking.’

      ‘Hormones.’ Corey winked.

      ‘That’s a terribly politically incorrect thing to say.’ Lydia grinned, stepping through the door he held open for her.

      ‘Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from.’

      The same light-hearted chatter continued out on the ward, from Corey at least, various nurses looking up and smiling, introducing themselves as Lydia slowly worked her way around the room. Lydia tried to smile, tried to come up with the odd witty response or friendly greeting, but it was as if her mouth didn’t know how to move any more. She could feel the sweat on her palms as she dug her nails into them, feeling horribly awkward and exposed and praying for a fast forward when all in the unit was familiar.

      Special Care Units were intimidating at the best of times, but Corey obviously ran the place well. Somehow there was a balance between quiet efficiency and relaxed friendliness which was no mean feat given the direness of some of the babies’ health and the anxious parents taking each painful step along with their child.

      ‘Patrick Spence.’ Corey stopped at the incubator where they had first met. ‘He’s six days old now…’ his eyes moved to the little boy still struggling with each ragged breath ‘…which makes it your one-week birthday tomorrow, little guy.’ Rubbing his hands with the mandatory alcohol, Corey put his hands inside the incubator and stroked the tiny infant’s cheek, and such was the tenderness in his touch Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. They had stopped at every incubator, Corey had regaled the most painful tales but not for a second had he erred from professional detachment.

      Till now.

      Handling of sick infants was kept to a minimum, yet here was Corey gently stroking this baby’s brow and there was an expression on his harsh, sun-battered face Lydia couldn’t read.

      ‘We normally save the cuddles for Mum and Dad, but this little guy’s missing out on both counts,’ Corey offered by way of explanation, his eyes never leaving the babe. ‘But we’re more than happy to fill in, aren’t we, Patrick?’ Clearing his throat, he pulled his hand out, fiddling with the oxygen-flow meter for a moment or two before carrying on.

      ‘Patrick’s mother arrived at the labour ward in advanced second-stage labour. She’d received no antenatal care and a rapid labour followed. Born at thirty-two weeks gestation, as well as being premature, he was also small for dates. Multiple anomalies were noted at birth and on investigation he was found to have major cardiac defects.’

      He was silent for a moment as Lydia read the cardiac surgeon’s reports, along with endless reams of ultrasounds, chewing thoughtfully on her lips as she did so. ‘He’ll need surgery,’ she murmured, ‘and preferably СКАЧАТЬ