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The Surgeon She's Been Waiting For. Joanna NeilЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Surgeon She's Been Waiting For - Joanna Neil


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      It was all very puzzling. What was wrong with the boy’s mother? And if his wife was seriously ill, what had Theo been thinking of when he’d lightly flirted with her? Or had she misjudged his actions? It was possible, of course, or perhaps he was one of those men who saw every woman as a challenge. Either way, the man had a lot to answer for.

      ‘As I was saying,’ she said as they stepped into the lift, ‘I spoke to Mr Benyon, but I simply suggested that the boy needed to be taken in hand. Of course, I didn’t realise that the child’s mother was ill. No wonder Harry was acting up. He must be very worried about her.’

      ‘Yes, I expect he is. Anyway, if you run into Theo again, go carefully. I don’t want to alienate him in any way.’

      And what was that supposed to mean? She opened her mouth to ask him, but her boss was frowning heavily, deep in thought and locked away in some world of his own. It wasn’t at all like him to be this way, and Megan had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps, though, this was not the best time to start quizzing him.

      Anyway, with any luck she wouldn’t run into Theo again any time soon.

      The lift came to a halt and they stepped out into the corridor. Mr Edwards headed straight towards his office, and Megan decided to go in search of a late lunch.

      Sarah was just preparing to leave her table at the cafeteria when Megan set down her lunch-tray.

      ‘I heard you had to operate,’ Sarah said. ‘Do you think Mrs Claremont will pull through OK?’

      ‘I hope so. It all depends on whether Mr Carlson will be able to operate successfully. She’s very weak.’

      ‘That’s hardly surprising, but you’ve done everything that you could for her.’ Sarah glanced at Megan before pushing her chair back from the table and getting to her feet. Her green eyes were sympathetic. ‘No one could have done anything more, and they’ll take good care of her in the intensive care unit. It’s just a question of waiting to see what happens.’

      ‘I know.’ Megan sighed and gazed back at her friend. ‘Dealing with a heart attack is difficult enough at any time, but when it happens to a relatively young mother it’s heartbreaking.’

      Sarah nodded and glanced down at her watch. ‘I have to get back to work,’ she said, tucking a strand of golden hair back into place. ‘I’ll see you later, Megan. Try to eat something. It will make you feel better and help to keep your strength up.’

      ‘I will.’ Megan toyed with the salad on her plate, twirling her fork idly in the mound of grated cheese, as she watched her friend walk away.

      The food tasted good, and she ate carefully, savouring the variety of flavours—honey-baked ham, crisp red and green peppers and a crusty bread roll.

      For just a few moments it was good to relax and enjoy the freedom from responsibility. This job meant everything to her, but she had to acknowledge that she was in real need of a break.

      As difficult as it was, heart-rending though it might be at times, her career in medicine was her life. She had worked hard to come this far, and as a specialist registrar inA and E she had a good deal of responsibility resting on her shoulders…shoulders that ached right now with a growing knot of tension.

      She put down her fork and sipped at her hot cup of coffee, moving her limbs to ease the tightness in her muscles. It was a relief to be able to unwind for a few precious minutes. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she let her mind drift over the variety of cases she’d had to deal with so far today.

      It was as though every minute was taken up with life-and-death decisions, and she faced a struggle each day to keep one step ahead. Why did she put herself through all this?

      She stared out of the window as though she might find the answer in the tubs of brightly coloured pansies that were dotted about the paved quadrangle.

      ‘Hello, there… Meeting up like this is getting to be something of a habit.’

      Megan gave a start and looked up as the sound of that familiar male voice intruded on her reverie.

      ‘You’re right. So it is.’ She stared at Theo Benyon. What on earth was he doing there?

      ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He was holding a tray, laden with a coffee cup and pastries, and now he asked, ‘Would it be all right if I join you?’

      ‘Help yourself.’ She waved a hand towards the chair opposite.

      He sat down, his gaze shooting over her as he stirred his coffee with a spoon. ‘You look wiped out,’ he murmured. ‘Have things not been going too well for you?’

      She sent him a wry smile. ‘What was the give-away—the dark shadows under my eyes or my general drawn appearance?’ He, of course, looked absolutely great. His grey suit was beautifully tailored, cut from dark fabric that looked fabulously expensive. His jacket was open, so that she could see the fine linen of his shirt, and his tie was subtly patterned to blend in with the whole.

      His mouth made an odd quirk. ‘Nothing like that. You just look generally weary.’

      Her mouth flattened. ‘It’s been a difficult day, one way and another.’

      He lifted a brow in query. ‘Last I saw of you, you were headed up to the catheter suite. Did things not go too well?’

      ‘They went well enough. My patient suffered a myocardial infarction—a heart attack—and unfortunately it took a long while for her to be brought into hospital in the first place. She lives out in a remote rural area. It never helps if the patient goes for a long time without receiving specialised attention. She was only in her early forties and eventually she went into cardiogenic shock. It was all we could do to bring her back from the brink.’

      She pressed her lips together, and then glanced at his plate and the pastries. ‘It looks as though you have a sweet tooth,’ she murmured, changing the subject. ‘Are you planning on eating all of those by yourself?’

      ‘Not necessarily.’ He sent her an amused look. ‘You’re welcome to choose one if you like. I recommend the fruit tart. Just save the jam doughnut for Harry. That’s his favourite, and he’ll be coming along to demolish it just as soon as he’s finished with the vending machine. I think he’s trying to nab himself a small rubber ball…not one of his best ideas, because you can bet it will bounce all over the place and be lost in no time at all.’

      ‘Ah, I wondered what had happened to him.’ She glanced across the room to the machine where the boy was gazing thoughtfully at a collection of coloured balls. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’m content with my salad.’

      She looked at him more closely. ‘So is this where I’ve seen you before? Are you visiting a patient here?’

      ‘I am. As you say, that’s probably it. I’ve been here several times over the last couple of weeks.’

      ‘It must be difficult for you, fitting in visits around work and taking time to look after Harry as well. Or perhaps you’re able to work from home? I imagine that painting must be the ideal job.’

      His mouth curved, lending a roguish slant to his features. ‘I’m flattered you think I could make a decent living from it, but I haven’t actually put it to the test. Anyway, I have Harry to look after just now, and that’s a full-time job in itself.’

      ‘Oh, I see. I mean… Yes, I can imagine that it is.’

      Harry came over to the table, hefting a small rubber ball in his palm. ‘I got it,’ he said. ‘I wanted the red one with the white swirls, and I got it. See?’ He opened out his palm to show it to Theo.

      ‘That’s obviously a very special one,’ Theo remarked. ‘Just see that it doesn’t roll about the floor and get in everybody’s way.’

      It was already too late as he spoke. Harry gleefully tried out the ball for bounce-ability, and what followed was an excited chase


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