A Baby Of His Own. Jennifer Taylor
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CONNOR couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so angry. Normally, he had no difficulty controlling his temper. He firmly believed that it was futile to expend energy in such a non-productive fashion, yet he couldn’t seem to get a grip as he made his way to the ward. Sandra was coming out of the office and he sighed when he saw her face light up. Although he wasn’t vain, he was aware of the impact he had on some of the female members of staff and he really didn’t feel like politely fending her off.
‘I was just coming to find you!’ she exclaimed. ‘I know you’re not officially on duty yet but—’
‘What’s happened?’ he asked immediately because work had always taken priority over everything else.
Funnily enough, the idea stung and he frowned. He’d never considered his dedication to be a drawback before yet he couldn’t help wondering if this situation would have arisen if he’d devoted less time to his career. If he hadn’t taken up the post in Boston, for instance, he would have known that Lucy had been pregnant.
The fact that he could even consider the move to Boston as something to regret stunned him, so that it was a moment before he realised that Sandra was looking expectantly at him. Although he hated to admit that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said, he didn’t have a choice.
‘Sorry. I was miles away. It must be the jet-lag. I only arrived last night and I’m still catching up with the time difference. Can you tell me all that again?’
‘Of course!’
Sandra smiled forgivingly, making it clear that she would happily repeat the information any number of times he wanted her to. Connor wasn’t about to slip up again, however. He listened attentively as she explained that Theatre had just phoned to say they had a problem with a seven-year-old they’d been operating on. Sophie Fisher had been undergoing a routine tonsillectomy when she’d suffered an adverse reaction to the anaesthetic, which had caused her heart to stop. The anaesthetist had managed to restart her heart but she would need careful monitoring for the first twenty-four hours or so.
‘Is there a high-dependency bed available?’ he asked when Sandra had finished. Opening the paediatric high-dependency unit had been a major coup for his predecessor. High-dependency beds bridged the gap between nursing on a ward and in the intensive care unit—they were invaluable in a case like this where a patient needed extra care.
‘They’re all free,’ Sandra admitted. ‘We had to close the unit at the beginning of May because we didn’t have enough staff to cover it.’
‘Are you saying that there’s been no high-dependency paediatric beds available for over two months?’ he exclaimed incredulously.
‘Yes. Oh, they’ve advertised the posts several times, but I’m not sure if they’ve found anyone suitable yet. Maybe Lucy will know. Here she is now, you can ask her.’
Connor glanced round and saw Lucy coming along the corridor. He beckoned her over, pretending not to notice the strain on her face. Even though he was furious about the way she’d cut him out of his daughter’s life, it upset him to see her looking so worried.
‘We’ve a seven-year-old girl who needs a high-dependency bed,’ he explained crisply, determined not to let his feelings show. ‘Sandra has just informed me that the unit is closed.’
‘That’s right. The staff who were working there have been moved to ICU. Apparently, there were vacancies there as well so the management decided to close the unit and save on resources.’
‘That’s something I need to sort out,’ he said grimly. ‘However, it doesn’t solve our current problem. How long will it take to prepare a bed in the unit?’
‘Not very long. Everything is still in place so it’s just a matter of making up a bed and plugging in the equipment. However, there’s just three of us on today and Sandra will be going off duty soon. I’m the only one who’s done the extra training needed to work in the high-dependency unit and I can’t leave the ward.’
‘I understand that, but what if I find another nurse to cover the unit? Could you manage then?’
‘Yes, of course, although I don’t know where you’re going to find anyone. There’s nobody available in ICU—I’ve already asked them.’
She shrugged, her brown eyes meeting his for a second before they skittered away. Connor suddenly wished with all his heart that things had turned out differently. If he’d stayed in Dalverston, he and Lucy would never have been at loggerheads like this, he thought sadly.
Once again the fact that he regretted what had been an excellent career move startled him. His career had always been the most important thing in his life and to experience these doubts was deeply unsettling. He turned away, not wanting her to see how vulnerable he felt all of a sudden.
‘Sandra, can you get back on to Theatre and tell them to send the patient up as soon as they’re happy to move her?’ He went to the desk and picked up the phone, glancing at Lucy over his shoulder. ‘And can you get everything ready? The child’s stable at the moment but there’s always a chance that she might suffer a second cardiac arrest and we need to be prepared for it.’
‘But I’ve just explained that we don’t have enough staff to man the high-dependency unit as well as the ward.’
‘And I’ve just told you that I’ll find you another nurse,’ Connor said shortly, keying in the code for an outside line.
‘If you can find an experienced critical care nurse in Dalverston then you must be able to work miracles,’ she said scathingly. ‘None of the nursing agencies has anyone suitable on their books. I know that for a fact because Mark Dawson told me that he contacted them when he found out the unit was being closed down.’
‘I’m not contacting an agency.’ He keyed in another string of digits, wondering why it hurt to know how little faith she had in him. He’d never needed anyone’s approbation before—he’d taught himself to be totally self-sufficient—yet he’d have been lying if he’d claimed that he didn’t care how Lucy felt about him.
The thought worried him so much that his tone was brusquer than it might otherwise have been. ‘A friend of mine from Boston travelled over here with me. She worked in a high-dependency unit so she knows the drill. She qualified in England so there won’t be a problem with her nursing credentials either. I’m sure she’ll be willing to help if I ask her.’
‘I see. I’ll leave you to make the arrangements, then.’
Lucy spun round before he could say anything else. Connor frowned as he watched her disappear into the side room that housed the high-dependency beds. She was obviously upset, although he had no idea why. Surely she should be pleased that he’d found a solution to their problem?
His breath caught as a thought struck him. Was it possible that Lucy was jealous? Dee was just a friend and she had her own reasons for coming back to England, but Lucy didn’t know that. She probably assumed that Dee was his current girlfriend and that they’d decided to move back here together. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a need to set the record straight, but before he could act on it, Dee answered the phone.
He quickly explained his predicament and, as he’d expected, Dee immediately offered to help. He thanked her and hung up but then he had to clear it with the nursing officer and that caused another delay. By the time everything was arranged, the patient had arrived so once again there was no time to speak to Lucy.
The anaesthetist had brought the girl upstairs himself so they ran through her case notes together. Connor could tell the other man was worried in case any blame might be attached to him, but his notes showed that nothing had happened while Sophie had been in Theatre to have caused her to arrest. It had been a tragic accident caused by an adverse reaction to the anaesthetic agents used during the operation, and he told