St Piran's: The Brooding Heart Surgeon. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
They were in the same category as frilly clothes or loose hair or make-up. Badges of femininity. Barriers to acceptance as an equal in a male-dominated profession. How did women like Charlotte manage it? Looking and dressing in a way that accentuated their best features but still having the respect of both colleagues and patients?
It made Anna feel like she had some kind of split personality, but it was so engrained now it was getting hard to know whether it was the Anna at home or the Dr Anna Bartlett at work that was the real her. The only thing she could be sure of was that never the twain could meet.
But sometimes … like right now … it struck Anna that her work persona was simply armour. Concealing anything feminine and vulnerable. Giving her focus and strength. Her gaze strayed of its own accord back to the solitary figure of Luke Davenport. What was it about him that made her even more aware that she didn’t look as feminine or, God help her, attractive as she could? Just as well her work persona was so firmly engrained. If armour was what it was, she might need its protection more than ever.
Charlotte had been held up too long. She moved around the nurses who couldn’t decide between the teriyaki chicken or smoked salmon.
‘Hi.’ She smiled at Anna. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Very good. Theatre’s over for today and both patients are doing well. I just took the sternal wires out of your Violet Perry. I’m sure the irritation will be gone and she’ll be pain-free in no time.’
‘That’s great.’ Charlotte was peering into the sandwich cabinet. ‘Hmm. Chicken and Camembert sounds nice. Or turkey and cranberry. No … we’ll be sick of that soon. Have you seen how many Christmas decorations are up already?’
‘Mmm. Way too soon, in my opinion.’ Anna found the seasonal celebrations at work disquieting. Too much of a bridge to personal lives.
‘Ham salad,’ Charlotte decided, reaching for one of the triangular plastic boxes. ‘Oh … weren’t you in Theatre with Davenport this morning? Doing Colin Herbert’s pericardectomy?’
‘Yes.’ Again, Anna’s gaze strayed towards Luke.
‘How did it go?’
For a split second Anna considered confiding in Charlotte. Telling her all about how Luke had frozen and she’d had to take over the surgery. If she did, she’d be taking a step she could never undo. Charlotte would tell her husband, James, and the snowball effect might sweep them all into places they would rather not go. This man was going to be her professional partner from now on. They would be working closely together. Closer than she was with Charlotte or James or any of the other cardiology or cardiac surgery staff. She and Luke would share duties in Theatre, on ward rounds, during outpatient clinics.
As though he sensed her stare, Luke raised his head to look up. Straight at Anna. Just for a heartbeat she held his gaze and tried to analyse what she could feel in that connection.
Maybe he wasn’t bad tempered and brooding, she decided as she looked swiftly away. Strangely, for that moment in time, it had looked more like something deeper. Possibly even unhappiness? What reason could he have?
He had been forced to leave the army early due to his injury, hadn’t he? Perhaps Luke didn’t want to be here just as much as Anna didn’t want him to be.
She looked away but not before she felt an odd squeeze beneath her ribs. She knew what it was like to feel unhappy.
Lonely.
Did she really have to kick someone who might already be down? Maybe she was overreacting. She had stepped in so fast, after all. If he’d been about to move at the same time it wouldn’t have been such a big deal at all. Not that she’d had the impression he would have moved that fast, but it wouldn’t hurt to think about things a little longer.
‘It was amazing,’ she heard herself telling Charlotte, absently picking up a pack of chicken sandwiches. ‘I’ve never seen a technique quite that precise. I got to do a patch behind the left ventricle and it wasn’t easy.’
‘Wish I could have seen it,’ Charlotte sighed. ‘Did you know he’d ordered the observation deck closed?’
Her disappointment was clear. It was an opportunity to express caution about the man’s personality or even say something negative. Curiously, Anna felt the need to defend Luke.
‘I guess you wouldn’t want too many people watching when you’re doing your first case after a long time away.’
‘I guess. How’s Colin doing now?’
‘Really good. We might be able to move him to the ward later today. Tomorrow, anyway, if he stays this stable. We should be well past the danger period for complications from acute dilation of cardiac chambers but his heart’s still got to get used to dealing with much more of a blood flow.’
‘I’ll get up to see him this afternoon. Here’s hoping the surgery report won’t be far away. I’ll be very interested to read it.’
So would Anna, but her agreement was silent. If she’d voiced it, her tone might have suggested that there would be more to read about than Charlotte might expect. They were getting near the cashiers’ part of the counter now and she turned her attention to the baskets of fruit. An apple, she decided. The nice-looking green one on the top of the second basket.
The crash that came from somewhere in the kitchens behind the food counters was astonishingly loud. Metallic. Jarring enough for every head in the cafeteria to swivel sharply in that direction and for conversation to cease abruptly.
And in that second or two of startled silence a scream rang out. And then a cry for help.
Jaws dropped as staff members looked at each other as though trying to confirm the reality of what was happening. Anna heard Charlotte’s gasp behind her but she was watching something else. Weirdly, her instinct had been to look away from the source of the sound so she had seen the first movement in the crowd. A reaction time so fast it was hard to process.
Luke Davenport was on his feet. His chair tipped backwards and he pushed at the table in front of him rather than stepping around it. The table also tipped, the tray sliding off to send china and cutlery crashing to the floor but Luke didn’t even spare it a glance. He was heading straight for the kitchen.
Access was blocked by the tall, glass-fronted cabinets apart from the space where Anna was, beside the tills and the fruit baskets. There was a flap in the counter beside the last till where kitchen staff could go in and out with the trolleys of used dishes but Luke didn’t bother to stop and lift it. Or maybe he didn’t see it. He swept the baskets clear to send apples and oranges bouncing around the feet of those still standing motionless and then he vaulted the space, making the action seem effortless.
Kitchen staff were backing away hurriedly, but not quickly enough for Luke.
‘Move!’ he barked. ‘Clear the way. What’s happened?’
‘Over here,’ someone shouted. ‘Oh, my God … I think he’s dead.’
Luke took several steps forward. Between the tills, Anna could see the blue uniforms of kitchen staff moving. Clearing a space near the stoves in front of which a large man in a white jacket lay very still.
Luke took in the scene. He turned his head with a single, rapid motion.
‘Anna!’ he shouted. ‘Get in here. I need you.’
Someone had raised the flap now but, if they hadn’t, it occurred to Anna that she might have tried to leap over it, too. Luke needed her?
The man was obviously one of the chefs. His white hat had come off when he’d collapsed and was lying amongst the pots and pans of an overturned rack.
Luke kicked one of them aside as Anna raced into the kitchen. ‘Get rid of those,’ he ordered. ‘Someone help me turn him. Did anyone see what happened?’
‘He just fell,’ a frightened woman offered. ‘One minute he was cleaning down the cooker