Hot Single Docs: London's Calling

CHAPTER THREE

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re starting back at work so soon.’ Ella’s nurse for today, Melanie, was watching Abbie spoon morsels of breakfast into her daughter’s mouth. ‘You’ve only just set foot back in the country.’

‘I just want to get back to normal.’ Abbie’s smile was a bit of an effort. Getting Ella back to London had been a huge step closer to getting back to a normal life but she had no real idea what ‘normal’ was going to be from now on.

She caught an escaping dollop of porridge with the edge of the plastic spoon and waited until Ella opened her mouth so she could pop it back where it belonged. ‘And I’ve had far too much time away already,’ she added. ‘You know what they say, Mel. “Use it or lose it.”’

Melanie looked up from the drugs she was preparing for Ella’s syringe driver. ‘You won’t go straight back into full time, though, will you?’

Abbie’s headshake was swift. There was no way she could suddenly cope with that kind of punishing schedule—the long surgery hours at the Lighthouse, outpatient clinics, ward rounds and the travel time and consultations at the Hunter Clinic. A schedule that Rafael had apparently ramped up to an unthinkable level while she’d been away. No work–life balance there but she could understand escaping like that. And her own life had been just as one-sided. For a very long time.

‘I haven’t been genuinely full-time for ages,’ she said aloud. ‘We started scaling things down when I got to about six months pregnant and then things got even more disrupted after Ella was born, of course.’

Melanie’s nod was sympathetic. She clicked the syringe into the driver. ‘You must be missing your work, too. You don’t get to be as good as you are if you don’t really love what you’re doing. Are you in Theatre today?’

‘No. It’s just an outpatient clinic this morning. They’re easing me in gently.’

‘That’s good.’ Melanie was making an exaggerated happy face at Ella. ‘You done yet, chicken? Ready to have a wash and get dressed and face the day?’

Abbie wiped Ella’s face with a damp cloth. ‘I think we both are.’ With a final cuddle she handed Ella to Melanie. ‘Be good, sweetheart. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

Setting off to the Lighthouse’s outpatient department, she realised how nervous she was feeling. Maybe it was because she was out of her jeans for the first time in ages and wearing clothes more appropriate for her job. A neat blouse tucked into a long, swirly skirt that reached the top of her boots. An unbuttoned white coat as a jacket. The bright name badge that had a cute flower with a smiley face for a centre that told the world she was ‘Doctor Abbie.’

Or maybe it was because people would be bringing their precious children to her to have decisions made about potentially major surgery. She would have to weigh up the risks versus benefits for other people’s children when she was so acutely aware of how it felt to be a parent herself. What the repercussions of those risks might be.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Abbie scolded herself. ‘It’s only an outpatient clinic. Hardly life or death.’

There was an expectation, however, that she would start again with the really high-pressure work as soon as possible and get up to reasonable speed so that she wouldn’t lose the skills that had won her such a prestigious position in the first place. The expectation wasn’t just coming from the Hunter brothers or the head of the paediatric surgical department at the Lighthouse Children’s Hospital.

It was coming from Abbie herself and that was why she’d told Ethan that she would start again so soon.

The passion that had led her into this career represented a part of herself that she had no intention of losing. First and foremost, it was who she was. Being a wife and a mother might be just as important but that part of her couldn’t survive in isolation. Not happily, anyway, and if she wasn’t happy she couldn’t do her best. Be her best.

This nervousness that made her stomach churn was very unfamiliar, though. Disconcerting. It was only an outpatient clinic she was heading for, she reminded herself again. One of her favourite parts of her job, where she could spend time with young patients and their families, either exploring the possible routes they could take to make a positive difference in their lives or checking up on progress and getting the satisfaction of seeing that difference.

Why was she so nervous?

Because she felt rusty from being away from the action for too long? Those kinds of nerves might be expected when she was back in Theatre with a scalpel in her hand but they would be welcome then because she’d know they would keep her focussed and would evaporate as her confidence returned.

This was different. This was the first time she would be working with Rafael since she’d accepted the ultimatum that meant their marriage was over. Would working together make things better or worse? Could it break through the polite distance they’d ended up in last night before Rafael had excused himself to do a post-operative check on his most recent patient?

Apparently not.

Rafael had arrived before Abbie and, against the background of a crowded waiting room, he was sorting files with the clinic’s nurse manager, Nicky. Like Abbie, he was wearing an unbuttoned white coat over his professional uniform of tidy trousers and a neat shirt and tie. He had a name badge on his pocket, too. Nothing as frivolous as a smiling flower, though. His was a far more dignified standard issue with the tiny lighthouse logo and his full name.

Abbie hadn’t even offered to get him a fun badge when she’d had her own made. She’d always known the limits to which his pride would let him bend.

Or she’d thought she’d known. Until it had come to the crunch.

Both Rafael and the nurse manager looked up as Abbie approached.

‘Abbie.’ Nicky’s smile was welcoming. ‘It’s so good to see you. I was delighted to hear that you’d be sharing the clinic this morning. I’ll bet your registrar was delighted as well.’

Rafael’s smile wasn’t nearly as welcoming as Nicky’s but at least it was a smile. One that was at odds with the wary look in his eyes. Surely Rafael wasn’t nervous about working with her again? No...

She’d never known him to be nervous about anything. Excited, certainly, like he’d been when they’d seen the stripes on the pregnancy test stick that had meant they were on the way to becoming parents. Fearful, maybe, like he’d been when they’d been waiting for those first test results to come back and explain why their newborn baby was failing to thrive in such a dramatic fashion. And angry, definitely, like he’d been when she’d refused to accept his decision that enough was enough when it came to putting Ella through any more misery.

But nervous? This was disconcerting. Abbie had to force herself to return Nicky’s smile of welcome.

‘I did hear that you’ve been incredibly busy. It’s lovely to see you, too, Nicky.’

‘And I hear that Ella’s doing well. That’s such good news.’

‘It certainly is.’ Abbie slid a sideways glance at Rafael but he seemed absorbed in the list of patients. He eased a set of patient notes out of a pile and put it to one side.

‘How long before you can take her home?’

Rafael’s head jerked up at this query and Abbie could feel the intensity of his glance and it felt...accusing? This wasn’t something they’d had a chance to talk about last night. How could they, when Abbie wasn’t even sure whether she had a home to take Ella back to?

‘Um...it’ll be a few weeks, I think. We need to see how things go. Certainly no decision will be made until she’s had her T cells checked at the three-month mark.’

Which gave them some breathing space at least. Time to sort out where they were as far as their marriage went. Or how they might share Ella’s parenting in the future.

The noise level in the waiting room was increasing. A scuffle had broken out near the toy box and more than one child was crying. A woman carrying a well-wrapped baby was standing near the door and looking as if she would prefer to turn around and go out again. Her partner was trying to persuade her to take a seat. Nicky surveyed the scene and squared her shoulders.

‘We’d better get this show on the road. I’ll get the first patients into the consulting rooms. I’ve put you in Room 3, Abbie.’

‘Cheers.’

As Nicky moved away, it felt as if Abbie and Rafael were almost alone, sandwiched between the waiting-room chaos and the rest of the staff, who were busy organising the rooms for the consultations and tests that were scheduled.

‘Hi...’ Abbie offered a smile. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Rafael smiled back. Another polite smile. ‘And you? That chair in Ella’s room can’t be that comfortable to sleep in.’

‘I’m used to it. I’ve been sleeping in one of those chairs for so long now that a bed will probably feel weird.’

And there it was again. A slap in the face. A reminder of where she’d been for the last three months. An echo of the awkward moment last night when Rafael had asked if she would come home to sleep and she’d said that changing something that big in Ella’s routine was out of the question just yet.

‘How is she this morning?’

‘Good. She ate a little stewed apple and porridge for breakfast. It’s great that she already knows so many of the nurses on the ward. She’s got Melanie today and I don’t think she even noticed me leaving to come here.’

‘I’ll get up and see her as soon as we’ve finished here. I...wasn’t sure whether to disturb your early-morning routine.’

Keeping his distance? Abbie stifled a sigh. ‘She’s your daughter, Rafe. You can spend as much time with her as you want.’

His nod was almost curt. He reached for a pile of notes and slid them along the counter. ‘Here are your patients for this morning.’

It wasn’t rocket science to see that her pile was much smaller than his. Or that the names on the list had been divided far more equally. Abbie raised her eyebrows. Rafael shrugged.

‘I’ve added some cases to my list. It’s your first morning back, Abbie. I wanted to make things a little easier for you.’

Abbie stared at him. ‘If I didn’t think I could cope, I wouldn’t be here.’

The words came out a little more vehemently than she’d intended but it was bad enough feeling nervous about her own performance. She didn’t need other people doubting her abilities.

He mirrored her raised eyebrows and gave another one of those subtle shrugs that was part of what kept people so aware of his birthplace. As you wish, it said. It’s of no importance to me.

Except it had been of importance or he wouldn’t have done it. And it was a generous gesture when he probably had too much to do today anyway. Maybe she should compromise. Abbie scanned the list rapidly.

‘I’d like to keep this little girl.’ She tapped the list. ‘Grade-three microtia. That’s one of my favourite things to do.’

Rafael knew that. He’d been in Theatre with her more than once as she’d tackled the delicate surgery to create an ear from the birth deformity that had left nothing more than a peanut-shaped blob as an outer ear. Life-changing surgery for a child who was being teased at school, and this little girl was seven years old.

‘And this one...’ She pulled another set of notes from the pile. ‘Seven-month-old ready for repair of his cleft lip and palate. Oh...it’s Angus. I remember us seeing him for his first consultation. That’s another one I’d love to do...’

Her voice trailed away. The sometimes massive surgery needed to correct this kind of birth defect was a procedure that both she and Rafael were known to be exceptionally good at. Together. Rafael’s skill at shifting bones and moulding features in conjunction with her ability to join tiny blood vessels and nerves and then suture to leave almost invisible scars had made them a team that people came from all over the country to consult via the Hunter Clinic.

Would she want to do it by herself?

‘Maybe I’ll leave this one for you.’ Abbie couldn’t bring herself to look up at Rafael. ‘I’ll take Harriet back, though. I’ve been wondering how those burn scars are settling. She must be due for her next surgery.’

Rafael simply nodded, took the first set of notes from his pile and headed to the first consulting room. Abbie took her first set and went past his door to Room 3. Separate lists. Separate rooms. Separate operating theatres even? Was this how it was going to be from now on?

Even when they’d seen different patients in the past, they’d always been popping into each other’s rooms to get a second opinion or simply brainstorm a case. This felt wrong but it was also a relief. Perhaps they needed time to get used to working together again. Or maybe they actually needed to find out if they could work together when their personal lives were in such disarray. Being too close too soon could well mean that it would never happen.

There was no reason why they couldn’t define some professional boundaries and make it work. Was there?

Apparently there was. The message Abbie got later that day, asking her to attend a meeting at the Hunter Clinic, had all the undertones of a ‘Please explain.’

* * *

‘Urgent message, Mr de Luca.’

‘What is it, Nicole?’ The expression on the young woman’s face suggested that his secretary was anxious. She was right behind him as he kept moving into his office.

‘A meeting at the Hunter Clinic at five p.m. With Leo and Ethan Hunter. In Leo’s office. Gwen said she’s checked your calendar and you’re available, so...’

The sentence was left hanging but Nicole might as well have finished it. The unsaid words were that no excuses would be acceptable short of the direst emergency.

‘Did she say what it was about?’

‘No. Shall I order a cab for you?’

‘I suppose you’ll have to,’ Rafael growled. He didn’t have any consultations booked at the exclusive Hunter Clinic that he could think of so he had no idea why it was suddenly so important to meet with the Hunter brothers this afternoon, and if he did have a space on his calendar, he’d much rather be spending that time with Ella.

Now he’d barely have time to eat the sandwich he’d just bought on the run for a late lunch. He dropped the plastic triangular package on his desk, along with the other purchase he’d made in the gift shop beside the café.

‘Oh, what’s that?’ Nicole’s face lit up with a wide smile. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ She reached out to pick up the huge teddy bear that was wearing a sparkly pink tutu and had pink ballet shoes on its feet. She hugged the bear. ‘I love it. It’s so soft and squishy. And huge. It must be just as big as Ella is now.’

‘Almost.’ It wasn’t really a baby’s toy either, but his Fiorella was growing up, wasn’t she?

‘I heard she was back. And that she’s doing well. That’s wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘It certainly is.’

Nicole put the bear down with some reluctance. ‘She’ll want to be a dancer when she grows up after she sees this. Look at those cute ballet shoes. Oh...I would have loved something like this when I was a little girl.’

A little girl. Not a baby any more. Yes... He had been shocked by how much Ella had changed since he’d last seen her. It was mainly due to such an improvement in her condition but three months was a long time in a baby’s life. She had more teeth and her smile looked different. Her hands were so much cleverer and her baby babble was beginning to have the inflections of real speech. She could stand up and even walk if someone held her hands. She’d barely been able to sit unaided when he’d last seen her.

He’d missed so much and that added another painful layer to the guilt he already felt at having left Abbie to cope alone in New York.

Rafael tried to shake his swift train of thought. ‘Order the taxi for four-thirty,’ he instructed Nicole, picking up the bear and depositing it in a corner of the office. ‘I don’t want to get stuck in rush-hour traffic. Anything else urgent I should know about?’

‘No.’

‘Good. I’ll get on with my clinic notes, then.’

Except that the pink bear sitting in the corner kept catching his peripheral vision. Making him think of Ella.

And of Abbie.

Would she forgive him for leaving her to cope alone in New York like that? For sending her away with the threat that their marriage was finished? It wasn’t the time to push too hard right now. Not when she was exhausted and trying to get settled back into being in London. When she not only had Ella to care for but she was starting work again as well. He wanted to help but between Abbie and the wonderful staff on the paediatric oncology ward there was nothing he could do there. It hadn’t gone down very well when he’d tried to lighten Abbie’s workload at the outpatient clinic this morning either.

And she didn’t seem to be making any effort to close the distance between them. She hadn’t even followed him into the room when he’d rushed in to see Ella yesterday, and ever since then it had felt like she was enclosed in a bubble. There but not there.

It was frustrating.

So was fighting London traffic to get to the Hunter Clinic by 5:00 p.m. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have gone home after this meeting because home was in Primrose Hill, about halfway between the Lighthouse and Harley Street, where the Hunter Clinic was located. But he had to get back to the Lighthouse as soon as he could because he still had patients to see, including Anoosheh. Apparently she was running a slight temperature and there was concern about potential infection. His entire day had run a little behind schedule thanks to taking on extra outpatients to ease the load on Abbie this morning.

Rafael desperately wanted to spend time with Ella, too. As long as possible. He wanted to give her the bear and see if it made her smile. If it didn’t, he would have to go looking for something else. What did make her smile these days? What did she like best of all to eat? What songs did she like to have sung to her?

There was so much he needed to find out.

And home wasn’t really home any more, anyway, was it? It hadn’t been, from the moment Abbie had walked away from that final, dreadful row, when he’d told her that if she took Ella to New York, their marriage was over.

Oh, her clothes still hung in the wardrobe and her books were still in the bookshelves. It was still the same gorgeous period-conversion apartment that they’d both fallen in love with and purchased in the week before their wedding. It still had the same fabulous view towards the Regent’s Canal and the bonus of the private courtyard garden that boasted a tree.

A tree they’d put a baby’s swing in to celebrate the six-month mark of Abbie’s pregnancy. A swing that had never been used. It had collected leaves in autumn and been filled with snow in the winter. Now it just hung there, too bright for a garden that had yet to blossom for spring. A cruel reminder of what could have been.

All these things taunted Rafael now so he spent as little time as possible in the apartment. He couldn’t stay there if their marriage was truly over. Maybe Abbie would want to live there with Ella. So that she could use the swing...

‘This is fine.’ Rafael rapped on the glass partition to alert the cab driver. ‘I can walk from here.’

Giving the driver a generous tip, Rafael took his briefcase and umbrella and strode down Harley Street, his long coat flapping. He should button it up to protect his suit because the leaden sky looked as if it could open at any moment but he was in too much of a hurry. The usual reverence the old buildings in this street instilled was gone, too. He didn’t even glance at any of the brass plaques that advertised the famous medical people who had once worked in these fabulous old buildings.

The facade of the Hunter Clinic, at 200 Harley Street, blended seamlessly with its historic neighbours but the interior made it look more like an exclusive hotel than a clinic. The heels of his Italian shoes tapped on a polished marble floor as Rafael marched through the huge reception area, past the inviting white sofas bathed in soft light from the table lamps beside them.

Only Helen, the senior receptionist, was on duty at the moment. In her late forties, Helen was always immaculately groomed and conveyed just the sort of welcome the clinic wanted. Capable, calm and compassionate. Weren’t those words in the clinic’s mission statement somewhere?

‘Mr de Luca.’ Helen’s smile held no disapproval of the fact that he was nearly ten minutes late. ‘How lovely that you could make it. They’re all ready for you in Leo’s office.’

Leo’s office? They were all ready for him?

What the hell was going on here?

Leo was the older of the two brothers—sons of the celebrated plastic surgeon, James Hunter. Rafael had never delved too deeply into the scandal that had surrounded James’s death. He only knew that it was through the tireless efforts of Leo that the clinic had survived and the cloud had been lifted from the Hunter name. He also knew that a huge rift had appeared between the brothers when Ethan had joined the army and left Leo to fight alone to save the clinic, but that was in the past, wasn’t it?

Ethan was back. And Leo had finally settled for one woman.

These were happier times for the Hunter brothers. So why weren’t they looking happy right now?

And what, in nome di dio, was Abbie doing here?

She looked pale. Frightened, almost. Rafael hadn’t seen her look like this since that terrible time when they had been waiting for the first results to find out what was wrong with their tiny baby. What had Leo and Ethan said or done to make her look like this now?

How dared they?

The need to protect Abbie was sudden and fierce. Rafael dropped his briefcase and umbrella on the nearest chair but he didn’t sit down. He didn’t take his coat off. Instead, he stepped behind Abbie’s chair and gripped the back of the seat.

‘What’s going on?’ he snapped.

Had they fired her? Because she couldn’t give the kind of focussed dedication to her job that she’d been known for before she’d become a mother?