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Baby Twins to Bind Them. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.

Baby Twins to Bind Them - Carol  Marinelli


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Candy.’ He smiled when she came over and he put down the book that he was reading.

      ‘You remember me?’ Candy asked in surprise, because Mr Heath had been so distressed in Resus that he hadn’t seemed very aware of his surroundings or able to hear what anybody except Steele was saying.

      ‘Of course I do.’

      ‘Well, it’s lovely to see you looking so much better,’ Candy said. She then did his obs and gave him his medications for the night and, as she did so, they chatted for a while.

      ‘I’m hoping to go home on Monday,’ Mr Heath said. ‘My granddaughter gets married next week.’

      ‘How exciting,’ Candy said. ‘Is it a big wedding?’

      ‘Huge!’ Mr Heath nodded. ‘She’s marrying an Ital …’ His voice trailed off.

      ‘Don’t stop on my account.’ Candy grinned. ‘I know what Italian weddings can be like. I must be the only girl in the world who’s dreaded her wedding day since she was little rather than dreamt of it.’

      Mr Heath laughed. ‘Will it be big?’

      ‘You have no idea,’ Candy said. ‘I have four older brothers, all married, and my mother is itching for it to be my turn. She buys sheets and towels for me when she shops—oh, and washing baskets and the like. I’m all set up!’ Candy smiled. ‘Apart from the groom.’

      It was, in fact, a very friendly ward and the staff didn’t mind that Candy had a few questions every now and then. But as she went to do Macey’s medications, Candy frowned and looked around for Abigail, but she was in with Mrs Douglas, who was very sick indeed.

      ‘Problem?’ Steele had come onto the ward and was writing up some medication for a patient who wasn’t Candy’s.

      ‘No, I just want to check something,’ Candy said, taking the prescription chart over to him. ‘Macey’s written up for sherry, but she’s on a lot of other medication.’

      ‘No doubt she’ll be having the sherry when she gets home,’ Steele pointed out. ‘Though I don’t think you have to worry about it tonight—she’s not having her sherry at the moment. She’s not really having much of anything.’

      He was right. Candy was shocked at the change in Macey. She’d been a fierce, proud woman when she had arrived in the emergency department but now she just lay on her side and stared into space. She didn’t say anything when Candy introduced herself and her arm was listless when Candy checked her blood pressure.

      ‘I’ve got your tablets for you, Macey,’ Candy explained, and she helped her to sit up to take them. The old lady took her tablets without a word of protest and then tried to take the water Candy offered, but her hands were shaking terribly so Candy held the glass and helped her take a drink to wash them down. ‘Sorry, Macey, but can you lift your tongue for me?’

      She lifted her tongue and, yes, she had swallowed all the tablets rather than hiding them. Then she lay back down on the pillow.

      ‘Can I get you anything else?’ Candy offered. ‘A drink?’

      Macey gave a small shake of her head and Candy looked at the fluid balance and food charts. She was on an IV, and that was, apart from the water she took with her medicines, practically all that Macey was having at the moment.

      ‘Macey,’ Candy suggested as she put another blanket on and turned her pillows, ‘why don’t I get you some milk?’

      Her lethargy was troubling. Candy would far prefer her to be shouting at her and telling her that she wasn’t a nurse’s bootlace.

      ‘Some warm milk,’ Candy elaborated. ‘I know your hands are a bit shaky at the moment but I can help you to drink it. Will you have some milk?’

      Macey didn’t say yes but at least she didn’t shake her head this time.

      Steele looked over and saw Candy hovering, sorting out pillows and blankets on Macey’s bed. He half expected Macey to shout for her to get off as she had done when she’d been with the other nurse that afternoon, but he was pleased to see that tonight Macey didn’t seem to mind the small attention.

      Steele liked Candy, which had certainly come as a surprise to him.

      The attraction had been instant, yet Candy was nothing like the women Steele usually dated.

      Oh, he dated.

      A lot.

      Steele went for sophisticated women. He liked women who understood right from the start that this could only ever be a fleeting thing for he was never anywhere long. Six months here, two years there and now just six weeks here.

      Steele glanced at the date. He had been here almost a week, so make that five weeks he had left at the Royal.

      And Candy was away for the final two of them.

      Steele had already done the marriage-and-settle-down thing and it hadn’t worked.

      Or rather, it had worked, possibly more than he had realised, because ten years on his ex-wife, completely out of the blue, had rung him. Her second marriage had failed and she had suggested that they give it another go. Even before Steele could answer her and say he had never heard a more ridiculous suggestion in his life she had added her little postscript—there was one proviso to them getting back together.

      There had been a lot of advances in technology after all.

      Ten years on the hurt was there and she had just hit it with a sledgehammer again. His one raw nerve, the one chink in his confident persona, had been exposed again. Steele had promptly hung up on her without response because otherwise he might well have exploded and told her exactly the words that were in his head.

      They weren’t pretty.

      For Steele, finding out that he was infertile had been a huge blow. His wife’s response to the news had been devastating.

      He made sure now he was never in a position to reveal that part of himself again. He kept things light; he kept things intimate sexually rather than emotionally.

      Then he moved on.

      Candy walked past just then, carrying a feeding cup, and she went over and helped Macey to sit up.

      Candy didn’t say anything; she just gave Macey a smile as the elderly lady took sips of the milky drink. That was all Macey wanted for now: no conversation, just a warm drink and the comfort of companionable silence.

      Candy was fine with that—she was used to it, in fact.

      When she’d been ten, her nonna had come to live with them. Candy’s job in the morning had been to make sure Nonna got her biscotti and milky coffee and then to see her to the bathroom and make up her bed. Candy had loved the mornings—the chatty ones when Nonna had told her all about the village that she had grown up in. The reminiscent ones when Nonna had spoken about falling in love and the parties and dancing. The sad ones—leaving Italy and the death of her husband, Candy’s nonno. Candy had been comfortable too with the silent mornings, when Nonna had just eaten quietly, lost in a world of her own, as Macey was now.

      ‘Do you want a bedpan?’ Candy offered Macey when the milk was gone.

      ‘I’ll go …’ Macey sighed and pulled back the bed covers.

      Glad to see that she was making the effort to get out of bed, Candy helped her with her slippers and got Macey her walking frame and they walked over to the bathroom.

      Candy waited outside and when Macey came to wash her hands Candy sorted the taps and squeezed the soap for her. Macey washed her hands very thoroughly. Her nail varnish was chipped and Candy watched her examine her nails for a moment, clearly less than impressed with the state of her hands.

      ‘I’ll sort your nails out for you on Sunday,’ Candy offered, and then took Macey back to her bedside, where she asked her to sit for a moment. ‘Sit


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