Marrying the Runaway Bride. Jennifer TaylorЧитать онлайн книгу.
The tests we’ve run have shown there is a disturbance in your son’s heartbeat and that his heart isn’t working as efficiently as it should be doing either. That’s why Charlie was complaining of feeling breathless all the time.’
‘So what happens now?’ Darren Maguire asked. ‘Can you give Charlie some drugs to make him better?’
‘Unfortunately, there’s no specific treatment for myocarditis. Charlie will need bed rest while he recovers and I’ve also prescribed corticosteroid drugs to reduce the inflammation.’ He leant forward, wanting to impress on the parents how serious the situation was. ‘The main thing is that Charlie must remain in hospital while we monitor what’s happening to him. With rest and the proper care, I’m hopeful that he will make a full recovery, but it will take time. There’s no quick fix to this problem, I’m afraid.’
‘It doesn’t matter how long it takes,’ Cheryl Maguire said, wiping her eyes. ‘As long as he gets better, that’s all that matters, Mr Carew.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Archie stood up and smiled at them. ‘Charlie’s having another ECG at the moment. I’ll send one of the nurses to fetch you when it’s finished.’
‘Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very kind.’ Cheryl bit her lip. ‘I feel awful about what happened before. I never meant to hit that poor nurse. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘You hit one of the staff?’ Archie exclaimed.
‘Yes. It was the nurse who brought us in here and gave us a cup of tea. She was so kind to us, too…’
Archie sighed as Cheryl trailed off. ‘I’m not sure exactly what happened but any display of physical violence towards a member of the hospital’s staff will be taken very seriously. I suggest you apologise to the nurse concerned as soon as you get the chance.’
‘Oh, I will,’ Cheryl said hurriedly.
Archie left the room and went back to the ward. It was almost seven p.m. but there was little chance of him leaving just yet. Fortunately, everything seemed to have calmed down now the crisis was over. Most of the children were watching television or playing with the games’ stations he’d had installed for their use. It was open visiting during the day and there were still some parents around. Although he encouraged families to play an active part in their children’s recovery, he emphasised that they needed their rest so visiting ended at seven-thirty each evening. Of course, if a child was seriously ill then special arrangements were made.
He checked on Charlie and was pleased with the results of the latest ECG. He asked one of the nurses to fetch the boy’s parents in then went to the office. Marion Yates, the ward sister, was writing up the boy’s notes; she looked up and smiled at him.
‘That was a bit hairy.’
‘I didn’t think we were going to get him back at one point,’ Archie said bluntly, slumping down in a chair. He tipped back his head and groaned. ‘It’s hard to tell which bit of me is aching the most. Why do emergencies always come along in threes?’
‘They’re a bit like buses. You wait ages for one to arrive and then they all turn up together,’ Marion said, chuckling. She put down her pen and got up to switch on the kettle. ‘How about a cuppa? That might help.’
‘A long hot bath followed by a full body massage would be better,’ Archie grumbled, wiggling his aching shoulders.
‘Sorry, no can do. I mean, what would the staff think if they found you stretched out across the desk with me giving you a massage?’ Marion teased him. ‘The gossips would have a field day!’
‘At this precise moment I couldn’t care less what anyone thought,’ Archie retorted and then yawned widely. ‘I’ve been trying to pack after I finish work and it’s no joke, I can tell you. I don’t know where half the stuff has come from. Every cupboard and drawer seems to be filled to the brim.’
He yawned again as tiredness caught up with him. He’d been called into work before six that morning and it had been non-stop from then on. It would be after eight before he got home at this rate and he would have to set to work on sorting out the rest of his belongings otherwise he would never get everything done in time for the move. He closed his eyes as a cloud of gloom descended on him. Even though he’d set everything in motion, he still couldn’t believe that he was actually going to give up the job he adored, but he had to get used to the idea. Come the end of March, he would be leaving London and that would be the end of his career as a doctor.
Someone tapped on the office door just then and Archie’s eyes flew open. With his head still tipped over the back of the chair, the view of the newcomer was somewhat distorted. From this angle he was seeing her upside down, although he had to admit that starting at the bottom didn’t make the picture any less attractive.
A flurry ran through him as he took stock of long legs encased in black cotton trousers, slim hips, a neat waist and a shapely bosom beneath a crisp white uniform jacket. He was really enjoying himself by the time he reached her face and his pleasure didn’t dim one iota as he continued his appraisal—a full mouth, a straight little nose, a pair of hazel eyes framed by thick black lashes….
Archie reared up with all the finesse of a rusty spring uncoiling when he realised who she was. The woman gave him a tight little smile as he stood up and spun round, but he could see the strain on her face and knew she was worried that he was going to say something about how they had met. He took a deep breath and used it to damp down his racing pulse. In that second, he knew that neither thumbscrews nor boiling oil would make him reveal what had happened in Dalverston. Her secret was safe with him. He would never tell a soul.
Heather could feel the tension humming along her nerves and fought to control it. The only way she was going to get through the next few minutes was by staying calm. She fixed a smile to her mouth as she turned to the ward sister.
‘Mrs Jackson wants to know if Emily can go home tomorrow. I said that I’d check with you.’
‘I’d like to keep her in for at least another day.’
Heather’s gaze swivelled sideways when a male voice answered. In a fast sweep her eyes took in the rumpled dark brown hair, the tired green eyes, the firm but beard-shadowed jaw. He was taller than she remembered, his body looking lean and fit beneath the pale grey shirt he was wearing with a pair of darker grey trousers. He looked older and far more careworn than when she had seen him last and the thought bothered her. His kindness that day had been the one bright spot to come out of a very dark experience.
‘Sorry. I’d better introduce myself.’ He held out his hand, his green eyes looking straight into hers. ‘I’m Archie Carew, head of the paediatric unit. I take it that you’re one of the agency staff?’
‘I…um…that’s right,’ Heather murmured. She took his hand, feeling the jolt that ran through her as his fingers closed around hers. She wasn’t sure what was happening but all of a sudden she felt safer than she’d done for ages. There was something immensely comforting about the firm pressure of his palm against hers. She had the strangest feeling that if she held onto Archie Carew’s hand then nothing could ever hurt her.
She took a quick breath as she pulled her hand away. It was ridiculous to get carried away by such a fanciful notion. The only person she could rely on now was herself, not some man she barely knew.
‘Heather Thompson,’ she said crisply. ‘I just started working here tonight.’
‘Rather a baptism of fire,’ he replied easily. He glanced at the ward sister and raised his brows. ‘Apparently, Charlie’s mum hit Heather. I don’t know if she told you.’
‘No, she didn’t!’ Marion exclaimed. ‘You should have said something, Heather.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Heather said quickly, because the last thing she wanted was to make a fuss. ‘The poor woman was upset and I understand that’s why it happened.’
‘It’s good of you to take it that way, but