Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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take a hot drink—’ Helga started, but Dominic interrupted.
‘Courtney, why don’t you go and get a coffee? Someone will sit with your son while you take a little break.
‘Is that okay?’ He checked with Helga and she sent in a student nurse, but Rebecca was too sharp not to notice that he had known the name of the patient’s mother. ‘You know her?’ She grimaced as Courtney flounced out, because this sort of thing was always supremely awkward.
‘I know his aunt.’ Dominic was sparse with his reply but Helga filled in for him.
‘Bridgette. She’s a midwife on Maternity. She’s on her way. I called her a little while ago—Courtney was in a right panic when she arrived and she asked us to.’
‘Okay.’ Dominic tried not to think about Bridgette taking that phone call—he had to deal with this without emotion, had to step out and look at the bigger picture. ‘I’m going to step aside.’ He came to the only decision he could in such a situation. ‘I’m going to ring Greg Andrews and ask him to take over the patient, but first I need to take a look at Harry and make sure that there’s nothing medically urgent that needs to be dealt with.’ His colleague might take a while. He did not engage in further small talk; he did not need to explain his involvement in the case. After all, he was stepping aside. Dominic walked into the cubicle where Harry lay resting in a cot with a student nurse by his side. Rebecca came in with him.
‘Good morning, Harry.’ He took off his jacket and hung it on the peg and proceeded to wash his hands and then made his way over to the young patient. He looked down into dark grey eyes that stared back at him and they reminded him of Bridgette’s. He could see the hurt behind them and Dominic did not try to win a smile. ‘I expect you’re feeling pretty miserable? Well, I’m just going to take a look at you.’ Gently he examined the toddler, looking in his ears for any signs of bleeding, and Harry let him, hardly even blinking as he shone the ophthalmoscope into the back of each eye, not even crying or flinching as Dominic gently examined the tender bruise. Through it all Harry didn’t say a word. ‘Has he spoken since he came here?’ Dominic asked
‘Not much—he’s asked for a drink.’ The curtains opened then and Helga walked in. Behind her was Bridgette, her face as white as chalk, but she smiled to Harry.
‘Hey.’ She stroked his little cheek. ‘I hear you’ve been in the wars.’ She spoke ever so gently to him, but her eyes were everywhere, lifting the blanket and checking him carefully, even undoing his nappy, and he saw her jaw tighten at the rash.
‘How is he?’
‘He just gave everyone a fright!’ Helga said, but Bridgette’s eyes went to Dominic’s.
‘Could I have a quick word, Bridgette?’
He stepped outside the cubicle and she joined him.
‘He’s filthy,’ Bridgette said. She could feel tears rising up, felt as if she was choking, so angry was she with her sister. ‘And he didn’t have any rash when I saw him on Friday. I bought loads of cream that she took—’
‘Bridgette,’ he interrupted, ‘I’m handing Harry’s care over to a colleague. You will need to tell him all this. It’s not appropriate that I’m involved. You understand that?’ She gave a brief nod but her attention was diverted by the arrival of her sister, and he watched as Bridgette strode off and practically marched Courtney out towards the waiting room.
‘I’ll go.’ Helga was more than used to confrontations such as this and called to the nurses’ station over her shoulder as she followed the two sisters out. ‘Just let Security know we might need them.’
And this was what Courtney had reduced her to, Bridgette thought, standing outside the hospital early in the morning, with security guards hovering. But Bridgette was too angry to keep quiet.
‘He climbed out of his cot!’ Courtney was immediately on the defensive the moment they were outside. ‘I didn’t know that he climbed. You should have told me.’ Maybe it was a good idea that security guards were present because hearing Courtney try to blame her for this had Bridgette’s blood boiling.
‘He’s never once climbed out of the cot when I’ve had him,’ Bridgette answered hotly. ‘Mind you, he was probably trying to get out and change his own nappy or make himself a drink, or give himself a wash. You lazy, selfish…’ She stopped herself then because if she said any more, it would be way too much. She paused and Helga stepped in, took Courtney inside, and Bridgette stood there hugging her arms around herself tightly, mortified when Dominic came out.
‘This has nothing to do with you,’ Bridgette said, still angry. ‘You’ve stepped aside.’
‘You know I had to.’
She did know that.
‘Is this why you couldn’t get away?’ Dominic asked, and she didn’t answer, because a simple yes would have been a lie. ‘Bridgette?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘You never do,’ he pointed out, but now really wasn’t the time. ‘I know that it doesn’t seem like it now,’ Dominic said, ‘but Harry being admitted might be the best thing that could have happened. Things might get sorted now.’
As an ambulance pulled up she gave a nod, even if she didn’t believe it.
‘Bridgette, I was actually going to come over and see you today,’ Dominic said, and she knew what was coming. ‘I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else—I’ve just given notice. I’m leaving on Saturday.’ He chose not to tell her just how impossible the decision had been, but in the end it had surely been the right one—he wanted simple, straightforward, and Bridgette was anything but. He’d opened up to her more than he had with anyone, and yet he realised that, still, despite his question, he knew very little about her and even now she said nothing. ‘Anyway, I thought I should tell you myself.’
‘Sure.’
‘I’d better get up to…’ His voice stopped, his stomach tightened, as the ambulance door opened and he met Tony’s frantic eyes.
DOMINIC checked himself, because it should make no difference that it wasn’t Esperanza on the stretcher. Instead it was Roman, their three-year-old, and he needed Dominic’s help and concentration just as much as his little sister would have. ‘Dr Mansfield’s here…’ Tony was talking reassuringly to his son, who was struggling hard to breathe as they moved him straight into the critical area. ‘The doctor who looked after Esperanza. That’s good news.’
‘He did this last year…’ Tony said as Dominic examined him, and Tony explained about his severe asthma. ‘He does it a lot, but last year he ended up in Intensive Care.’
‘Okay.’ Dominic listened to his chest and knew that Roman would probably have to head to Intensive Care again this morning.
Roman took up all of Dominic’s morning, but by lunchtime, when he’d spoken to the family and the frantic abuela, things were a little calmer.
‘While he’s still needing hourly nebulisers it’s safer that he is here,’ Dominic explained, but then it was easier to speak in Spanish, so that Abuela understood. He told them things were steadily improving and would continue to do so.
Tony rang Maria, who was of course frantic, and Dominic spoke to her too.
‘You get a taxi home,’ Tony said to Abuela, ‘and Maria can come in between feeds.’
Writing up his drug sheets, Dominic listened for a moment as they worked out a vague plan of action, heard that Tony would ring his boss and take today off.
‘You think he might go to the ward tomorrow?’
‘Or