Children's Doctor, Society Bride. Joanna Neil

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      ‘I believe so,’ she agreed, glancing briefly at the men and women who were seated around the large rectangular table. Some were other executives from around the region, but there were a number of people who she had been working with in this hospital for a few years now. For the most part they were much like herself, doctors or managers who were doing the best job they could, trying to cope in difficult circumstances.

      ‘Please, do come and sit down,’ Mr Jeffries urged her. ‘We were just about to go over the options for change.’

      She glanced to where a seat had been left empty for her and started forward, but as her glance skimmed the people on either side of that chair she came to an abrupt halt, the breath snagging in her lungs. There was one man there who surely didn’t belong amongst this collection of medical chiefs.

      James Ashleigh flicked a glance over her, his grey gaze wandering along the length of her shapely legs to the tips of her fashionably designed shoes, and back again to rest thoughtfully on the oval of her face. She faltered momentarily.

      Mr Jeffries must have noticed her hesitation because he said helpfully, ‘Ah, of course you won’t have met Dr Ashleigh, will you? He’s been working overseas for a while on secondment, but we are really pleased to have him back amongst us.’

      Louise blinked. So James Ashleigh was a doctor? He must be a pretty successful one, by all accounts, if he drove a top of the range Mercedes. Unless, of course, he wasn’t that kind of doctor. Perhaps he had a degree in economics. That would certainly explain his presence here. Was he one of the wretched money-counters who were intent on eliminating her A&E unit?

      She frowned and stared at him once more.

      ‘Dr Bridgford and I have already met.’ James Ashleigh returned her gaze with a faintly quizzical expression. Had he guessed what she was thinking?

      ‘Good, good,’ Mr Jeffries approved.

      Louise inclined her head in acknowledgement and then went and sat down beside James, put out by the way his glance shimmered over her, and out of sorts that he was here at all.

      ‘I hope your grandfather is feeling better by now,’ she said in a low tone under the buzz of general conversation in the room.

      ‘His breathing’s better than it was,’ he answered as the assembly began to settle down. ‘His GP prescribed antibiotics, which helped a bit, but my grandfather’s heart has been failing for some time now, I’m afraid. He’ll never be the man he once was.’

      Her mouth flattened. ‘I’m sorry to hear it.’ She was even more sorry that his grandson couldn’t be trusted to take proper care of him. He couldn’t possibly be a medical doctor, could he? Where was his sense of responsibility and commitment?

      ‘So, let’s get on with the business at hand, shall we?’ Mr Jeffries began, calling the meeting to attention. ‘The main proposition before us is that we work towards centralising key services at the Royal Forest Hospital. This is part of a rational planning process that we hope will improve the way we serve the region and I’m looking to all of you to help find the best way we can devise our strategy.’

      There was a rumble of comment from around the table as people sought to add their views.

      ‘Our most valuable resource is manpower,’ one man said, after some general discussion. ‘We should see to it that we have the best, most skilled specialists gathered together at the Royal Forest site. That’s where the cutting-edge equipment is based—high-performance scanners, new operating suites, and an up-to-the-minute range of telecommunication devices. Specialists can even offer advice over video links without having to travel from one base to another.’

      ‘That won’t be a whole lot of use if the departments in outlying hospitals have been closed down, will it?’ Louise murmured. She could feel herself getting prickly already.

      ‘We’re not talking about taking away necessary resources,’ the man answered. ‘We’re just redistributing them in order to provide a better service.’

      Her mouth twisted. ‘You mean you’re tidying up as part of a cost-cutting exercise.’

      Beside her, James Ashleigh stirred. ‘Not at all,’ he intervened. ‘It’s more a question of making the best of what we have. Now that we have to comply with directives about junior doctors’ working hours, it’s becoming even more difficult to maintain full coverage of departments. It makes sense to concentrate them in one centre of excellence.’

      Louise gave him a narrow-eyed stare. ‘I would have thought the community deserved excellence from all quarters.’ Warming to her theme, she added, ‘And what will happen to patients who come from outlying regions and don’t have a chance to make it to this magnificent centre you’re proposing? It’s a well-known fact, backed up by research, that people with serious breathing difficulties are less likely to survive a journey to hospital if it’s more than six and a half miles away. It’s quite likely that patients will die if this plan goes ahead.’

      James frowned. ‘Do you think you might be in danger of overlooking the part our ambulance personnel have to play in all this? After all, every day they make life-saving interventions while they transport sick people to hospital.’

      ‘Some do, I’ll grant you,’ she answered in a clipped tone. ‘But what happens if you’re unfortunate enough to be transported by a technician who isn’t allowed to carry out invasive clinical procedures or administer the necessary drugs? There’s a high percentage of ambulance personnel who aren’t trained to the same extent as paramedics.’

      ‘That’s an issue that’s being addressed.’ His tone softened as though he would appease her in some way. ‘You have to take on board the fact that advances in technology are being made all the time, and we need to centralise resources in order to keep pace with what’s happening.’

      Sparks flared in her green eyes. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m out of touch? I can assure you, Dr Ashleigh, that I work with state-of-the-art equipment every day. I suppose you think the community would be better served if it were to be reallocated, in its entirety, to the Royal Forest Hospital along with my patients?’

      He made a negligent movement of his hands. ‘I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t like you to feel that this is in any way personal, Dr Bridgford. I’m merely pointing out that we all have to accept that things can’t always stay the same, no matter how much we might want them to.’

      Louise drew breath, ready to come back at him, but Mr Jeffries cleared his throat and stalled her.

      ‘Of course your opinions will be taken into account, Louise. This is merely a preliminary meeting to discuss the various alternatives. We all know how concerned you are about the effect these changes might have on your department. That’s why we need to be particularly careful in how we decide on what options are to be presented to the committee.’

      Louise subsided, but inside anger was simmering. She might have known that James Ashleigh would be in favour of destroying what she had built up over these last few years. What did he know about the way she worked? Her patients meant everything to her. They were a huge part of her life, almost like family to her, and she protected the paediatric A&E unit she had shaped as if it sheltered her own little brood. He was all theory and management-speak.

      The meeting progressed, and she contented herself with directing a frosty glare in James Ashleigh’s direction. He might think that this wasn’t personal but, when all was СКАЧАТЬ