The Surgeon's Gift. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
he blushed. Very surprisingly, Rachael found herself musing as she took a well-earned break halfway through the morning. After all, he must see more women’s breasts than any man could wish for, yet a touch of female humour had made Hugh blush like a teenager. Still, that rather endearing trait in his character didn’t go anywhere close to making up for the fact that she was angry with him.
Furious, in fact—for putting Hailey in such an awkward position and for assuming that he had the right to share what Rachael had told him—and when Hugh came to the ward next time she was going to tell him as much.
‘Don’t get up,’ Helen said as she came into the staff room waving an admission slip. ‘We’ve got a new patient coming in. I’m going to put him in the side ward of Orange Bay. You mightn’t even get him on your shift, he’s a direct transfer from Warragul so it all depends on the ambulances when he arrives.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Taking the admission slip, Rachael ran her eyes down the scribbled note, her face screwing up as she read the rather graphic details. ‘How can you amputate a bottom lip?’
‘It’s an industrial accident. It sounds awful, doesn’t it? Apparently the mid-third of his lower lip is completely gone.’
‘Have they got the missing part?’ Rachael asked. ‘Will they be attempting to reattach it?’
Helen shook her head. ‘It was irretrievable apparently. According to the doctors at Warragul it’s a very neat injury though, and Hugh seems to think there’ll be no problem repairing it. He’s even talking about doing it under local anaesthetic.’
‘Well, I hope he’s as good as everyone keeps saying. This poor guy’s only nineteen.’
‘Oh, Hugh’s good,’ Helen said assuredly. ‘I’ve only been working with him for a month or so, but some of the things I’ve seen can only be described as miraculous.’ Lowering her rather ample bottom into the seat next to Rachael, Helen let out a rather too casual sigh. ‘What were the fireworks about the other day?’ When Rachael didn’t immediately answer Helen carried on tentatively, ‘I saw you both coming out of the drug room looking thunderous, and the atmosphere was hardly friendly for the rest of the shift. I put you in Purple Bay to give you both a chance to cool down, but this morning it wasn’t possible.’
‘You don’t need to keep us apart,’ Rachael said testily. ‘We had a difference of opinion, that’s all.’
‘About what?’
‘He thought I was incompetent. I begged to differ,’ Rachael said airily. But realising Helen wasn’t going to let things go that easily, she gave a small shrug. ‘Everything I did on my first day back just made me look awful—the little crack about my divorce, being ten minutes late with my drugs …’
‘That was my fault. I kept you talking after handover.’
‘Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but Mrs Cosgrove had chest pain so I got held up. Anyway, they were only ten minutes late. Had it been any other doctor, they wouldn’t have even noticed.’
‘Hugh’s a perfectionist,’ Helen said knowingly.
‘And as you and I both know, I don’t seem to do very well with perfectionists.’
‘Oh, come on, Rachael, you can hardly compare Hugh to Richard,’ Helen argued. ‘They’re nothing alike. Richard was obsessed with your appearance, with furthering his career. All Hugh’s interested in is the welfare of his patients.’
‘You reckon?’ Draining her cup, Rachael stood up. ‘Hugh furthers his own career because of people like Richard, and if I’d listened to my ex-husband, no doubt I’d have paid a fairly significant portion off Hugh’s sports car in medical fees. I’d say they were very much alike.’
Helen laughed at her cynicism. ‘How do you even know Hugh’s got a sports car?’
‘Call it an educated guess. And, no doubt, in the passenger seat is a skinny blonde girlfriend with a cleavage to die for. He’s exactly like Richard.’
‘I think you’re being a bit harsh.’ Helen gave a cheeky grin. ‘Hugh’s much better-looking.’
‘All the more reason to stay clear if you ask me. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about keeping us apart any more. We both apologised and everything’s fine.’
Until the next time I see him, Rachael thought wryly as she headed out to the ward, just in time to say goodbye to a rather gorgeous-looking Hailey, a new woman indeed now she wasn’t in her nightdress.
‘Look at you!’ Rachael exclaimed with a smile.
‘I feel as if I’m about to topple over.’ Hailey giggled. ‘They feel huge.’ In truth they weren’t huge. Rachael had looked at her patient’s notes and had seen the ‘before’ pictures and despite her own reservations about cosmetic surgery, she could see why Hailey had opted for the enlargement. Hailey’s before shots made Rachael look positively buxom for the first time in her life! Hugh’s surgery certainly hadn’t been drastic or over the top, anything but. Hailey was leaving the ward with a nice, feminine shape and a smile that would light up the whole of Melbourne. ‘I bought these for the staff.’ Hailey handed a large tin of chocolate to Rachael. ‘To say thanks.’
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ Rachael scolded as she took the tin and opened the small card attached. ‘Thanks ever so much, Hailey, they won’t last five minutes in this place. Now, have you got all your discharge medications and your outpatient’s appointment?’
Hailey nodded. ‘In my suitcase. Gary’s just taking it down to the car.’
‘Remember to do your deep-breathing exercises and to finish all your antibiotics.’
‘As if I could forget. Dr Connell made his instructions very clear. I daren’t get another chest infection, I don’t think he’d forgive me.’ She held up her hand and ticked off on her fingers. ‘I’ve got to take all my meds, wear a support bra and avoid heavy lifting and vacuuming for the next month.’
‘Maybe I should book in for one after all,’ Rachael joked. ‘I could use a month off housework.’
‘You’re fine as you are.’ Hailey paused uncomfortably for a moment. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you—before, I mean.’
‘You didn’t, Hailey,’ Rachael said gently. ‘In fact, you probably did me a favour. It’s better if people know, I can see that now.’
‘It does get easier.’
Rachael took a deep breath. ‘Promise?’
‘I promise. Are you in a support group?’
‘Hey, who’s the nurse here? That’s the sort of question I’m supposed to be asking you.’
But Hailey refused to be fobbed off and, fishing in her purse, she handed Rachael a card. ‘Take all the help you can, Rachael. Who knows? I might see you at a coffee morning.’
Glancing down, Rachael looked at the card Hailey had given her. The name of the voluntary support group that had visited her in the hospital was familiar.
Painfully so.
For a moment Rachael was assailed with a host of images, so clear, so agonising that for a second the months rolled away, the year disappeared and she was back where it all had started.
Or, more pointedly, back where it all had ended. Lying in her hospital bed, her hands over her ears, trying to block out the lusty cries of the newborns in the nursery, her swollen breasts aching, engorged, a physical reminder of her desire to feed, to hold, to love.
Sue had been her name.
Sue, the woman who had sat on her bed, the woman who had gently held her hand as she’d stared dry-eyed at the bland curtains. Sue, who had spoken eloquently, her quietly imparted words making some sense in the swirling fog of despair. Sue had given