‘I need a fresh start,’ she found herself confessing. ‘And I’ve been thinking of relocating to Christchurch. I thought I’d get more of a feel for what it would be like to live here if I took a job outside a hospital.’
Paul nodded but then frowned. ‘I am a little concerned that there are time constraints on your availability,’ he said, ‘but, then, poor Danielle has had several changes already.’ He hesitated for a moment, as though undecided whether to expand on his comment, but then his gaze dropped to the papers on the coffee-table. ‘It would certainly be to our advantage to have someone with skills such as yours, even temporarily.’ His nod was decisive as he looked up again. ‘I want the best for Danielle. The job is yours if you want it.’
Jenna opened her mouth to say that she would have to think about it. That she had a few major reservations about a working environment that included the influence of someone like his mother-in-law. But it would hardly be politic to criticise his child’s grandmother and, in any case, Jenna’s momentary hesitation cost her the opportunity to say anything at all.
Paul was on his feet and the interview was over. A pager on his belt sounded as he opened the door for Jenna and he moved swiftly past Maria and Louise, who were still in the foyer, towards a phone on a small table.
Within seconds he was clearly in communication with a paediatric intensive care unit,
‘What was the CBC differential?’ Jenna heard him query. ‘Electrolytes? Ultrasound results?’
He listened for a longer time, seemingly oblivious to everyone else standing in the foyer.
‘OK. Sounds like it’s only a partial obstruction but I don’t want a three-day-old baby deteriorating any further. Get a consent form for Theatre signed. I’m on my way.’
With concise, well-practised movements, Paul was on the move again. He collected his briefcase, gave his mother an apologetic smile and made perfunctory farewells.
And then he was gone, as suddenly as he had arrived.
‘I’m sorry,’ Maria said. ‘It was obviously an emergency.’
‘I should probably go now as well,’ Jenna said.
A grandfather clock chimed.
‘Goodness, is that the time?’ Louise moved towards Maria, preparing to hand over the baby. ‘I have a dinner date tonight.’
Danielle and the toy giraffe were passed into Maria’s arms as Jenna turned to make her farewell, and at the sight of the small girl’s face, her heart lurched. Danielle was staring at the door through which her father had just disappeared. Her eyes were swimming with tears that had just started to overflow but she was making no sound.
What kind of baby cried silently?
Lifting her gaze, Jenna had the feeling that Maria was reading her mind and a snatch of their private conversation replayed itself.
Ella needs her papa. He needs her. He just hasn’t realised it yet.
And maybe he didn’t realise that a cuddle was a far more precious gift than a soft toy could ever be. Ella apparently had a whole zoo of stuffed animals but how much physical contact did she get with her only remaining parent? Not much, if any, Jenna suspected. How sad was that?
Louise was putting on her coat. ‘Same time tomorrow?’ An answer wasn’t expected. ‘Goodbye, Jennifer. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you find the kind of job you’re looking for in Christchurch.’
Jenna waited until Louise was on the other side of the door. A flash of anger at the blatant dismissal from this very unpleasant woman had been enough to put her back up.
To make her want to protect someone as innocent as a baby from such a person. It was a feeling strong enough to shunt aside the considerable misgivings she had about taking this job.
Jenna reached out and stroked a tear from Danielle’s pink cheek and then she smiled at Maria.
‘How soon would you like me to start?’
‘YOU’RE up very early today, Jenna.’
‘Only because someone else decided to get up so early.’ Jenna smiled at Paul but quickly dipped her head to drop a kiss among the silky black curls resting on her shoulder. To hide any expression that might reveal embarrassment.
This was the first occasion since that initial interview that she had been in Paul’s company without one—or both—of the grandmothers being present. She had only been half-awake as she’d responded to the cry over the baby monitor but why hadn’t she taken the time to brush her hair? And why had she just pulled on the clothes lying on the end of her bed in her haste? Her oldest jeans and a faded, racer-back T-shirt were hardly likely to impress her employer.
Ella was still in her pink, fuzzy sleepsuit. The busy conversation of unintelligible but happy sounds she had been entertaining Jenna with on the way downstairs stopped suddenly. The baby had her thumb in her mouth as she watched her father’s movements at the kitchen bench. A pot of coffee was waiting for the plunger to be depressed. Paul was busy buttering a piece of toast.
‘Would you like coffee, Jenna?’
‘I’ll get one later, thank you. I just came down to find some more formula for Ella. We’ve run out in the nursery.’
‘How is she today?’
‘She seems much better. Her nose is still a bit runny and it was her coughing that woke me, but she’s certainly a lot happier than she’s been in the last couple of days. I’ll keep up the paracetamol and hope her temperature stays down today.’
‘Good.’ Paul was slicing the toast into soldiers, one of which he offered to Ella. She accepted the gift with a coo of surprise that made both Paul and Jenna smile.
‘It seems my mother was right,’ Paul said. ‘It is very reassuring to have a trained nurse caring for Danielle.’
‘It’s only been a mild virus.’
But the praise was warming. Or was it the unexpected bonus of Paul’s company that was creating that warmth? Maybe Jenna should encourage Ella to wake early more often to try and increase the time Paul spent in the company of his daughter. So far, they very rarely saw him in the mornings and only for an hour at the most before Ella’s bedtime in the evenings. A period that could easily be missed or curtailed thanks to an existing or emergency case that required the surgeon’s professional expertise.
They needed more time together. A lot more.
Ella and Paul, that was. Not Paul and Jenna. Her own inclusion was desirable simply because it was necessary as a facilitator. She may have only had time to gather impressions and set an agenda so far, but her goal was crystal clear. In the space of only a week, ever since she had seen those silent tears, Ella had won her heart to the extent that the challenge now ahead of Jenna was paramount. She had six months to try and foster the bonding of a father and daughter, and success had never seemed so important.
‘She likes that toast.’ Smears of butter and Marmite were spread across fat pink cheeks. Any thoughts of offering to let Paul hold Ella were squashed. Imagine if he had to go and change that pristine white shirt?
Paul offered Ella another thin slice of toast, which she accepted but didn’t eat. This time she held it back out, as though trying to return the gift. Paul didn’t notice because he was glancing at his watch.
‘It’s nearly six. I’ll have to run.’
‘Yes. It’s Wednesday.’ Jenna nodded. ‘It’s one of your heavy theatre days, isn’t it?’
An eyebrow rose. ‘You know my schedule so well already?’
‘Let’s see.’ Jenna ducked as the piece of buttery toast was waved too close to her hair. ‘You operate on Mondays and Fridays as well, have outpatient clinics on Tuesday and Thursdays and you do ward rounds at least once every day. You also have umpteen departmental duties, teaching slots and, of course, way too many emergencies.’
Both of Paul’s eyebrows had risen to meet the flop of dark, wavy hair on his forehead.
Jenna tried not to blush. Instead, she took advantage of the opportunity provided.
‘Ella doesn’t get to see that much of you,’ she explained, ‘and your mother always looks forward to any time you have at home.’
Maria probably didn’t get that weird sensation of having swallowed a whole tribe of butterflies on anticipating Paul’s company, though, did she?
A sneaking sympathy for Louise had been inevitable. It was no surprise that Danielle’s other grandmother was convinced that any woman coming within an inch of Paul would want to throw herself at the man. He was, without doubt, the most physically attractive man Jenna had ever met.
Tall and dark. Lean and lithe—with the kind of dark, brooding aura that so many women found irresistible. And there was the voice. Like rich chocolate with that barely discernible but intriguing foreign inflection, not to mention the ability to switch to fluent Italian as he sometimes did with his mother. You wouldn’t be a heterosexual female if you didn’t respond to that attractiveness at some level.
It would wear off.
It might wear off a lot faster if she had enough time to get used to it. To file it where it belonged as simply a physical reaction to a very attractive male. Even if Jenna had been interested in Paul on a personal level—which she wasn’t—she was focussed enough on her new goal to know that getting distracted would be a hindrance. A disaster, in fact, if Paul actually became more interested in her company than that of his daughter.
It couldn’t be allowed to happen.
It wouldn’t happen.
Things needed to be kept professional. She shouldn’t have made such a personal comment. Not yet, anyway, when there were still too many large, missing pieces of the puzzle this family represented.
Jenna tried to open Ella’s little fist to remove the mashed piece of toast. She also tried to sound as though Paul’s timetable was purely of professional interest.
‘Anything interesting on your list today?’
‘Yes.’ Paul drained the last of his coffee from the mug, highly relieved at the change of topic. He heard more than enough from his mother concerning the number of hours he spent at work. He certainly didn’t need Danielle’s nanny joining the chorus. ‘A three-year-old boy, Darren Symes. He’s got a Wilms’ tumour.’
‘Unilateral involvement?’
The surprise of having an intelligent medical question being asked in his own home was rather pleasant. There was more than one benefit in having a trained nurse as the new nanny. Paul put his coffee-mug into the sink and turned on the tap to rinse his hands.
‘I’m hoping so. We haven’t found any metastases but there’s a question mark hanging over the state of the unaffected kidney. And, of course, I’ll have to be very careful to avoid any tumour spillage.’
‘How did he present?’
‘Abdominal mass. GP found his blood pressure raised and a urine dipstick test detected blood. Ultrasound confirmed the nephroblastoma.’ Paul dried his hands on a towel. ‘I must go.’
‘Good luck.’
Jenna was smiling at him. There was an understanding of the importance of what he was facing in that smile. There was also confidence that he would succeed in her tone—the wishing of luck was just a verbal token that he was unlikely to need.
He liked that.
Even more, he liked the fact that, for the first time in nearly a year, he could go to work and concentrate on what needed to be done, without having to deliberately switch off any background anxiety about what might be happening at home.
Thanks to Jenna.
An unlikely nanny. It was just as well Louise couldn’t see her right now, looking like she had so recently tumbled out of bed. That cloud of dark curls falling over her shoulders, old clothes that hugged a figure far more attractive than those straight skirts and classic shirts had ever advertised and a face that obviously needed no make-up to stand out from a crowd.
Not that it would have mattered what Jenna looked like. Anyone who could have altered the atmosphere in this house to such a degree in the space of only a week would have been welcome. Paul had not seen his mother this happy in a very long time.
Curious that he was taking longer than he needed to dry his hands. That he wasn’t in his usual rush to leave for work. It was this new phenomenon that was developing—the notion that dealing with the demands of his family could transcend duty and perhaps even provide a degree of pleasure.
Yes. Everybody had been happier since Jenna had arrived.
Except for Louise, of course, but if Paul was honest, the fact that his mother-in-law was not pleased only added to his current level of satisfaction. Maybe she would just give up now.
And go home.
Not that he would deny her rights as part of the extended Romano clan. Family was everything, was it not?
Yes. Paul smiled as he reached out to touch Danielle’s curls.
‘Verdere piu tardi, cara. See you later.’
He was careful to give Jenna no more than a casual glance of farewell.
Not that he should have trouble keeping the lid on any hormonal stirring he might be experiencing. He’d had more than enough practice in the last eighteen months and the lessons of treading that particular path had been learned exceptionally well. It was Danielle and his mother who would reap the benefits of that sparkle of real intelligence, the ready smile, the soothing voice and what would, undoubtedly, be a soft touch.
He let himself out of the house and strode towards the garage. Being outside was good. Sometimes it was disconcertingly difficult to keep matters of importance in perspective when he was in the company of Danielle’s new nanny.
Things may be looking brighter but he needed to tread carefully. To remember the lessons learned. But he could never have difficulty remembering, could he? Danielle was living evidence of the fallout possible from making a mistake. A mistake he would never repeat.
‘What is it?’
‘Twelve point three. See?’ Jenna held the small blood-glucose monitor so that Maria could see the display.
‘That’s high, is it not?’
‘We’re aiming to get it stable in single figures but it’s better than yesterday and you’re due for your insulin anyway.’ Jenna stooped to tickle Danielle, who was now crawling on the floor of Maria’s bedroom. The baby giggled and held up her arms. ‘Just a tick, sweetheart,’ Jenna responded. ‘I’m going to give Nonna her injection and take her blood pressure and then we’ll all go and have proper breakfast. Are you hungry or are you still full of toast?’
Danielle flapped her arms and Maria laughed.
‘It’s so good having you here, Jenna.’ Maria discarded the tissue she had been holding on her fingertip since the prick required for the blood-sugar test. She grimaced at the sight of the approaching syringe. ‘I hate needles.’
‘You know you barely feel this.’
‘It’s the waiting for it. The…what is the word?’
‘Anticipation?’
‘Si. The anticipation. It magnifies things.’
‘Mmm.’ Jenna’s agreement was heartfelt. She was already thinking ahead herself. Wondering 48 how to make best use of the time when Paul returned from work that evening.
Wishing they could see a little more of him than they did.
Be careful what you wish for!
Jenna shook off the mental warning. She could handle whatever it was going to take on this new mission of hers.
‘I’ll never be able to do that by myself.’
Jenna rubbed the spot, having injected the insulin, and smiled. ‘I have the feeling you could manage anything you set your mind to, Maria. It can’t have been easy, coming to a strange country, away from all your friends and family, to raise your son.’
Maria shrugged. ‘His father wanted it so that’s what we did. His brother went to Australia and became a big success. Roberto wanted to be the one to be successful in Nuova Zelanda.’ The older woman pushed up her sleeve and watched Jenna wrap the blood-pressure cuff around her upper arm. ‘I could not manage this.’
‘You won’t need to. Once we know your blood pressure is stable on the new dose of medication, you’ll only need it checked when you go to see Dr Barry.’
‘Wasn’t it nice of him to lend us this…what is that impossible word?’
‘Sphygmomanometer,’ Jenna supplied. She put the disc of the stethoscope on the crook of Maria’s elbow. ‘Yes, he’s a lovely man. And a very good doctor, from what I could see.’
‘He was very impressed that you came to the appointment with me.’
Jenna grinned. ‘I think he was more impressed at your initiative in hiring a private nurse.’
Maria shook her head. ‘I saw him watching you with Danielle, too. When we were leaving he said, “You’ve got a treasure there, Maria,” and I said, “Don’t I know it?”’
Jenna concentrated on the mercury level as she released the valve to hide the flush of pleasure at Maria’s praise. ‘Good. One-fifty on ninety. That’s the same as yesterday.’ She noted the pressure in a notebook along with the blood-glucose level and the dose of insulin given. ‘Now, we’d better get some breakfast into you. I don’t want you getting hypoglycaemic and shaky again.’
‘I feel like it’s taking over my life,’ Maria sighed. ‘The blood prick. The injection. The right food. Tests and more tests! Watching the clock all the time to make sure that nothing is missed.’
‘It’ll take a while to get used to.’ Jenna scooped up Danielle, who was already making a beeline for the door. Still wearing her cute pink sleepsuit and with her curls still tousled, she was irresistibly cuddly. Jenna gave her a quick kiss before turning her head to smile at Maria. ‘You’ll be amazed at how it becomes part of the routine in a while. Like cleaning your teeth. Once we get to know how your body reacts to the insulin and what effect things like exercise have, you should be able to get down to only two injections a day. You might even be a candidate for having a pump system that sits under your skin and administers insulin automatically.’
They were halfway along the wide, upstairs hallway now. The door to a bathroom was on the left and Jenna knew the closed door on the right belonged to Paul’s bedroom. She adjusted her hold on the baby whose fuzzy sleepsuit made her feel like a living teddy bear.
What did Paul wear to sleep in?
‘I do not like that idea,’ Maria announced.
‘Sorry?’ Jenna had been dealing with an idea that was disconcertingly attractive. More than one idea, in fact. Old pyjama pants tied up with a string? Boxers? Nothing at all…?
‘A pump. The needle would be there in my skin? All the time?’
‘No. Actually, the whole pump system is placed under the skin. Like a pacemaker. You wouldn’t feel it.’ Jenna’s steps slowed. ‘I should get Ella dressed before we go downstairs.’
‘Why bother?’ Maria ruffled Ella’s curls and kissed her. ‘What’s so wrong with having breakfast in your pyjamas?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’ Laughing, they moved on together towards the stairs. ‘And are you sure you don’t mind me wearing jeans?’
‘You must wear whatever makes you happy, Jenna. I’m going to get into old clothes soon. It’s such a lovely day and I wish to do some gardening.’
‘But it’s Wednesday.’
Maria sighed. ‘Si. So it is.’
Wednesdays weren’t just one of Paul’s heavy days for the operating theatre. It was also one of the weekdays that Louise chose to pay an extended visit to Hamilton Drive.
She arrived while they were still in the kitchen and the laughter Ella had generated with her own attempts to get porridge and stewed apples anywhere but into her mouth faded abruptly.
Louise bent to kiss Ella but drew back. ‘What is that in her hair?’
‘Porridge.’ Jenna grinned. ‘I’ll go and get her cleaned up. It’s time to get dressed anyway.’
‘Yes.’ Louise eyed the jeans Jenna was wearing as she stood up to lift Ella from the high chair. The housekeeper, Shirley, distracted her from making any comment.
‘Coffee, Mrs Gibbs?’
‘Yes. Black. No sugar.’
Shirley caught Jenna’s gaze as she went past the back of Louise’s chair. The subtle roll of the housekeeper’s eyes was eloquent. As if she didn’t know by now how Louise took her coffee. It was also intended to be encouraging, Jenna realised. They were all in for a long day.
One that didn’t start very well.
‘I’ll take Danielle out for her walk,’ Louise announced when Jenna brought her back downstairs.
Weather permitting, the walk was part of the routine on the days Louise visited—at least three times a week.
‘She likes to show her off,’ Shirley had confided to Jenna on Monday evening. ‘That’s why she likes to have her all dolled up in those clothes she keeps buying.’
Like the smocked dress and shiny shoes Jenna had dressed her in that morning.
‘I’ll bet that where she picked up her bug,’ Shirley had added in a mutter.
A bug she wasn’t completely over.
‘I’m not sure it’s a terribly good idea today,’ Jenna said to Louise. ‘She’s been running a temperature and was coughing in the night.’
‘She looks fine to me.’ Louise took Ella from Jenna’s arms. ‘And it’s a glorious day.’
Jenna couldn’t contradict either statement. Ella did look much better, even though very little of that breakfast had made it anywhere near being swallowed. And it was a gorgeous day. One of those autumn gems that was still enough to leave the warmth of the sunshine undiminished. If they stayed at home, she would have encouraged Danielle to spend time playing outside. Was there any real difference in being taken for a walk in her stroller?
She caught Maria’s gaze and the hint of alarm that Jenna, the expert, thought that her precious Ella might still be unwell. If Paul was here, Jenna thought, he would make the decision in an instant and nobody would dare argue. But if Jenna put her foot down, Louise would be very unlikely to comply. Maria would oppose her fiercely and Jenna might find herself caught in the middle of a small domestic war.
‘Maybe just for a little while,’ she heard herself suggesting. ‘It is a lovely day.’
‘I’ll take a complete change of clothes for her.’ Louise had already assumed victory. ‘And a warm jacket. Get them ready, would you, please, Jennifer?’
Jenna climbed the stairs, annoyed with herself. If she had been on the familiar territory of a paediatric ward and wearing a uniform, instead of faded denim jeans, there was no way she would have hesitated to wield authority of behalf of someone as vulnerable as a baby.
But she had no authority here. Or not enough. Louise would be a formidable adversary and quite apart from the stress a disagreement with Maria could cause, her discontent had seen the last nanny sent packing. Jenna couldn’t understand why Louise was accorded the power she seemed to have—it was a piece of the puzzle she had yet to find. And it was a power bestowed purely by default. Paul could remove it with a click of those long surgeon’s fingers any time he chose.
So why didn’t he?
Whatever the reason, if Jenna wanted to keep this job and succeed in the challenge she had set herself, she would have to choose any battles with care, and the evidence that Ella needed to be kept within the confines of her own home today was not strong enough. Even Paul had seemed happy enough that morning with the improvement in Ella’s condition.
The phone call at 11.30 a.m. to pass on the information that Louise had met a friend and would be lunching at a café was no surprise but it was a worry. The easterly breeze that had sprung up was cool enough to bring Maria in from tending her basil and tomato plants.
Jenna passed on the message, adding that she hoped Louise would not have Ella sitting outside.
‘Surely not!’ But Maria cast an anxious glance at the clock. ‘She will need to have her back in time for her sleep.’
‘There’s a man involved,’ Shirley warned. ‘You mark my words.’
Jenna had lunch in the kitchen with Maria and Shirley and Shirley’s husband, John, who helped in the garden. She couldn’t help casting frequent glances through the windows at scudding clouds that were now blocking the sunshine at regular intervals. By 1.30 p.m. the temperature had dropped significantly and there was still no sign of Ella’s return.
‘Maybe I should go and collect them in my car,’ Jenna said finally. ‘Even if they had lunch inside, it’s a good fifteen-minute walk home and I’m really not happy about Ella being outside. It looks like it could start raining at any minute.’
‘We could ring her cellphone,’ Shirley suggested, ‘and find out what café they’re in.’
But there was no need, because they heard the sound of the front door and a moment later Louise pushed the stroller into the kitchen. A stroller that contained a wailing baby.
‘She’s just a bit tired,’ Louise said defensively, as Maria rushed to pick up and comfort her grandaughter.
‘Dio mio! She’s cooking!’
‘It got cold. She needed her jacket on.’
‘Jenna?’ The plea from Maria was almost desperate but Jenna was already in action, her instincts sounding a loud alarm.
She took Ella from Maria, quickly removing her outer clothing, but it did little to cool her and she was too distressed to swallow the liquid paracetamol Shirley fetched under Jenna’s direction. What worried Jenna more, however, 58 was the rate and depth at which the child was breathing.
Trying to calm her down had to be the first priority. Jenna cradled Ella in her arms, letting the small head snuggle into her shoulder. She rocked her and made soothing sounds.
‘It’s OK, sweetie…Everything’s OK…’
Maria stood nearby, twisting her hands, her forehead creased with worry. Shirley stared at Louise between helping Jenna by fetching the medication and supplying a damp facecloth, but Louise was ignoring everybody. She helped herself to coffee and then sat down at the table.
Ella’s exhausted sobbing finally ebbed and it was then that Jenna could assess what she had instinctively feared. The baby was in quite severe respiratory distress. Tiny nostrils were flaring and the muscles around her ribs retracting with the effort to breath. It was taking longer for her to breathe out than in and Jenna could now hear a faint wheeze. And the rate was high. Far too high.
‘We need to take Ella to hospital,’ she announced.
Maria went pale and crossed herself. Louise lifted her head sharply.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! She’s just got a bit of a sniffle and she’s tired. I’m sorry we didn’t get back earlier but I met…Gerald, the man I had dinner with last week and he asked me to have lunch and…well, I could hardly refuse, could I?’
Shirley gave a soft I-told-you-so sort of snort but nobody bothered answering Louise.
‘Could someone bring a car around?’ Jenna asked. ‘I don’t want to put Ella down until I have to. Getting upset again is only going to aggravate the trouble she’s having with her breathing.’
‘She can’t breathe? Oh…’ Maria was hovering like a mother hen.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Louise demanded.
‘I think she may have bronchiolitis.’
‘But she seemed so much better this morning,’ Maria almost wailed. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘It often presents as a mild viral illness and the symptoms were well controlled with the paracetamol. If it had just been a cold, she wouldn’t have deteriorated like this.’
‘You should have known it was more than a cold. You’re a nurse, aren’t you?’ Louise was getting to her feet. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting this is my fault.’
‘What’s important right now is that we get Ella to hospital so she can be monitored properly and treated if this gets any worse.’
‘I’ll get the car,’ John offered.
‘I’m coming, too,’ Maria said firmly.
‘So am I,’ Louise snapped.
Maria paused with dramatic suddenness in her route to the door. She waved her arms in the air. ‘Wait! I must ring Paolo and let him know we’re coming.’
Jenna blinked. Of course Paul should know his daughter was about to turn up in the emergency department, but what would he think if he received an alarmed call from his mother—probably in voluble Italian? Keeping everybody calm was part of her job in order to prevent the atmosphere around Ella becoming overly tense.
‘Maybe Shirley could do that,’ she suggested. ‘That way we won’t be held up.’ She caught the housekeeper’s gaze. ‘Just let him know I’m a bit worried so we’re coming in to get Ella properly checked.’
‘Sure.’ Shirley nodded. ‘I guess they’ll let me leave a message if he’s busy in the operating theatre or something.’
This wasn’t the way Jenna would have wanted any of them to see more of Paul Romano. She should have been more careful what she wished for.
Both grandmothers had been asked to wait in the relatives’waiting area and Ella was sitting on Jenna’s knee in an emergency department cubicle. This was due solely to the fact that if anyone tried to remove her from Jenna’s arms she immediately began to cry. With her nanny, she was calm enough to allow oxygen tubing to be held in the vicinity of her face in an attempt to bring up the level of oxygen circulating in Ella’s blood.
‘What’s the saturation now?’
‘Ninety per cent.’ The paediatric registrar summoned to examine Ella flinched visibly at the unexpected, crisp query coming from behind his back. Paul had finally appeared, still dressed in his theatre scrubs and clearly impatient to find out what was going on.
Jenna was thankful she had her arms full of Ella and something she could at least pretend to be completely focussed on. She was also thankful for the conversation now going on between the consultant and the registrar, however, because it gave her a legitimate excuse to steal frequent glances at Paul.
She had never seen him looking like that.
She had never seen anyone looking like that.
The suggestion of weariness and, undoubtedly, anxiety for his daughter had given the surgeon an even more sombre professionalism. Or was it because they were now on his working turf?
Jenna was struck anew by this man’s apparent aloofness to his child. He was acting like any other doctor might in discussing a patient. Apart from his customary flick of Ella’s curls in greeting, Paul had made no attempt to comfort his sick daughter. No cuddles. No soothing words.
The free excerpt has ended.