The Night Before Christmas. Alison Roberts
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eyebrows shot up. ‘Why not?’
‘Nelf law, I’m afraid. We’re expressly forbidden to reveal Christmas wishes. If we do, they lose any power they have to come true.’
Lizzie’s lips twitched. She was silent for a moment and then it was her turn to sigh. ‘Are you at least allowed to give an opinion on whether or not this wish might be granted?’
Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I think that’s permissible. And, yes, I think the odds on that wish being granted are quite high. Possibly not before Christmas, though.’
Lizzie’s face fell.
‘But it will happen,’ he added hurriedly. ‘I’m sure of it.’
How could it not happen when this woman was, quite simply, adorable?
If he could see that, as a man who had no interest whatsoever in finding a wife, surely she would be able to pick and choose from any available male that happened to come into her orbit? Not that it was any of his business, of course, and it was far too personal a topic to allow himself to even think about it for a moment longer.
He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away, looking down at the notes. ‘Dave should be back soon. It’s going to be a busy day for you with your final run of tests like the final cross-match and ECG and so on. I don’t want to hold things up, so if you’re really not happy about having me in Theatre, I’ll leave you to it.’
He risked another glance to see her looking torn. Small, white teeth were worrying that full bottom lip and huge, blue eyes were fixed on him with a very searching gaze. ‘So it’s abdominal transplants you specialise in, Dr Rousseau?’
‘Please, call me Jack. I dislike too much formality. May I call you Lizzie?’
She nodded. The pink flush on her cheeks was appealing.
He made his tone friendly but nodded in what he hoped was a serious, professional manner. ‘Indeed I do specialise in abdominal transplants. Kidneys, livers, the occasional whole bowel, in fact.’ He spoilt the serious effect a little by smiling at her. ‘I think kidneys are my favourite. The results of a successful transplant are so rewarding, particularly when it’s from a living donor. A case like yours in not uncommon because there are many parents who are willing to donate an organ or part of one for their child but it’s not something I’ve documented for lecture purposes yet.’
‘And you want to document my case?’
‘I think so. I’d like to run through it quickly with you now, if you are agreeable. Just while we’re waiting for Dr Kingsley to return?’
He was a stranger, this man, and yet Lizzie’s faith in him was growing by the minute.
Trust had been won.
Because of ‘nelf law’? How absurd was that? Except it had nothing to do with his sense of humour or ability to get out of a tight corner. It was to do with the kind of man who would stop and help an elderly woman who wasn’t well. Even more convincingly, one who was prepared to keep the secret of a six-year-old child. Holly might not realise it but her secret was obviously safe.
It was also because of his obvious integrity. They only employed the best here and if Dave Kingsley trusted him on a professional level then she wasn’t about to question his judgement. There was a more tangible level to his professionalism, however. One that made her feel like he genuinely cared about his patients.
Here he was, reviewing her file and reading personal information that she wouldn’t have dreamed of sharing with a stranger on first acquaintance, but it didn’t feel intrusive.
‘So … normal pregnancy and delivery when you were … twenty-four?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And the twins’ development seemed normal for the first two to three years.’
‘Yes.’
He read on in silence for a moment and then he looked up. ‘Two toddlers, one of whom was sick, and you’re a single mother? That must have been a tough time.’
She could see sympathy in his eyes. And a gentleness that made her want to cry. She pressed her lips together and looked away with a simple nod of response. She had learned to cope alone. She didn’t need this man’s sympathy.
The silence lingered a moment longer and then she heard Jack clear his throat again.
‘The diagnosis of hypoplastic and dysplastic kidneys was made when Misty was three … but she didn’t go into end-stage renal failure until earlier this year. And she’s been on dialysis for the last three months?’
‘Yes.’
‘But not peritoneal.’
‘No. I … didn’t want her to have the catheter inserted in her tummy and do home dialysis and have to worry about infection and things. I’d already passed the first compatibility tests and there was no question about not doing a transplant. We hoped that it could be done before the need for dialysis but … what with shifting in with my mother to be closer to the hospital and Misty getting sick and then I caught that bug and …’
Her litany of woes ended as the door opened and her surgeon came back into the room. He looked at both of them and then at the opened case notes.
‘Another review?’
Jack nodded. ‘Just in case Lizzie is agreeable to the filming.’
She could still see the sympathy in his face. The gentleness. And something else. He looked as though he really wanted to be a part of this. As though he genuinely cared.
‘I’m agreeable,’ she said quietly.
‘Excellent.’ Dave Kingsley sounded delighted. He leaned across his desk to pull pads of requisition forms from a plastic tray. ‘You’ll need a chest X-ray and an ECG to sign off your fitness for surgery. We’ll also do an ultrasound of your kidney and bladder and run off the final blood tests for kidney function and cross-match.’
‘But we’ve done that so many times already. I’m as close a match as could be hoped for from a parent.’ Lizzie found herself smiling at Jack. ‘Holly wanted to give Misty one of her kidneys. She was really cross when we told her you had to be eighteen years old.’
He smiled back at her. ‘They’re identical twins, yes?’
‘Yes. They … don’t look exactly the same any more, though. Holly’s taller and …’ And so much healthier.
‘She might well catch up after the transplant,’ Dr Kingsley said. ‘And it’s good to know there might be a perfect match down the track if things don’t go perfectly this time. You do understand there’s no guarantee of success, don’t you?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘I know the statistics are better for live donations and the treatment for any episodes of rejection are getting better all the time. The odds are in our favour.’
‘Very true,’ Jack put in. ‘But that’s why we do a last-minute cross-match to check compatibility again. Just in case any antibodies have sneaked in as a result of the illnesses you’ve both had recently.’
Lizzie nodded again. She crossed the fingers of one hand in her lap, covering them with her other hand so that neither of these highly trained surgeons would see such a childish action.
‘I’d prefer to run the standard checks again for Hep B and C and HIV as well, even though I see that your last results were fine.’ Jack was smiling at her again. ‘I like to tick all these boxes myself for cases I’m involved with.’ He glanced at his colleague. ‘If you don’t see it as interference?’
‘Heavens, no. Sounds like a good quality control measure to me. Feel free to keep ticking boxes in Theatre as well,’ Dave said.
Lizzie could swear that Jack gave her the ghost of a wink. ‘There are so many boxes to tick in there,