From Single Mum to Lady (2 page)

Tilly’s eyes swivelled to look at the door behind Jandy, and widened slightly, then she gave a little giggle. ‘Oops!’ she muttered.

Jandy whirled round and reddened. ‘Oh…er, hello,’ she said lamely to the tall, broad man who stood in the doorway. She was conscious of a strong patrician face and dark blue eyes looking into hers, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

Trust her to make a fool of herself, she thought ruefully. A flustered glance at the man confirmed that with his formidable physique he was definitely the sort who would like roaring around a rugby pitch on a wet Saturday afternoon or pounding the streets in an invigorating daily run. He was almost certainly the new registrar, and he looked every inch the super-confident hot-shot doctor from London, as Bob Thoms had put it!

His gaze flickered over her in a mildly interested manner, taking in her slightly flushed cheeks and wide dark brown eyes.

‘I don’t normally turn up for work in a birthday suit,’ he remarked blandly. ‘But I do play rugby and I hope I can send the patients home in fairly good shape!’

He had a deep attractive voice—‘well bred’ was the expression that sprang to mind.

Jandy allowed herself a prim smile, and said in a dignified tone, ‘I’m just trying to explain to Tilly here that expertise is more important than anything…’

‘Of course, I couldn’t agree more,’ the man said, nodding gravely. ‘I’m Patrick Sinclair, by the way—taking over from Sue Gordon. I was told that there might be some coffee going if I was lucky.’

His sudden smile took her by surprise, rather like the sun coming out from a cloud, and it lit up his whole face. He looked almost boyish and, Jandy supposed grudgingly, was reasonably good looking. She noticed a faded white scar that ran down the side of one cheek—the result of a rugby tackle, she imagined, and when he turned on the smile Jandy could easily understand why Tilly had fallen for him. But how would she feel if she discovered he had a wife and three children?

Jandy held her hand out to him and said rather stiffly, ‘Welcome to Delford General, then. I’m Staff Nurse Jandy Marshall, and this is Tilly Rodman, one of our student nurses.’

He turned to Tilly dipping his head slightly. ‘Ah, yes—we met before, I think. I’m looking forward to working with you.’

Tilly gulped and stared at him admiringly. ‘Yeah…great…’

‘Perhaps a cup of coffee for Dr Sinclair,’ prompted Jandy with a touch of impatience.

Tilly looked as if she was rooted to the spot by the sight of this man—surely all the women in Casualty weren’t going to buckle at the knees as soon as they saw him, Jandy thought irritably. She flicked another look at Patrick Sinclair—he was just another locum registrar passing through the department for a few months, a stopgap until Sue returned. OK, so he looked rather like a marketer’s dream for advertising some quasi-medical cure for flu—she supposed deep blue eyes in a strong good-looking face could easily persuade gullible people to buy a product…

She frowned: Patrick Sinclair had the confident air of someone who knew how attractive he was—but he was here to do a job, not act as the department’s pin-up! As a single mum juggling motherhood and a demanding job, she certainly wasn’t going to pander to his self-importance.

Karen Borley put her head round the door. ‘Tilly—can you come to the plaster room, please, and do a bit of clearing up—the place is a tip.’

‘Yes, Sister.’ Tilly thrust a cup of coffee into the man’s hand and bolted out of the room, with a final blushing look at Patrick, and Jandy was left alone with him.

In the short silence between them Jandy caught a depressing sight of herself in the mirror over the sink. She didn’t look her best—as usual her hair was scraped back into a ponytail to keep it off her face, and she hadn’t a scrap of make-up on. If only she’d put on a touch of lipstick it might have made her look less severe, less pallid, instead of which she looked what she was: an overworked single mum who’d been multi-tasking since she’d got up that morning! Not that it mattered what Patrick Sinclair thought of her looks, she told herself sharply. Nevertheless, she drew herself up to her full five feet six inches, and sucked in her stomach.

‘Have you had a tour of the department yet?’ she asked Patrick.

‘Not yet. Dr Vernon was called away and didn’t have time to show me much.’

He took a sip of coffee and for the first time she noticed the broad band of gold on his left ring finger. So he was married—a crushing blow to Tilly and probably every woman in Casualty, thought Jandy wryly. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to start moping because he was a married man, even though she had to admit that he was the first blazingly attractive male to have worked in A and E for ages—which didn’t mean she had to start thinking of love, romance or any sort of attachment. The last sort of man she needed was another hot-shot guy from the cosmopolitan life in London who found himself in the northern sticks of England and was married—she’d been there, done that.

He smiled at her. ‘So you and I are going to be colleagues—have you been at Delford General long?’

‘About three years now—I enjoy it really, most of the time. Where have you been working?’

‘In London, at S. Cuthbert’s. It’s a good hospital—I’ve been there since I qualified, but the last six months I’ve been with the London Air Ambulance for a stint.’

Jandy was impressed despite herself—this guy had some pretty comprehensive experience in trauma, and you had to have nerves of steel to cope with the serious accidents you dealt with on a daily basis.

‘Won’t you miss that? It could seem quite dull here!’

He laughed. ‘I don’t think so—I might miss the good things about London, like the river, the Houses of Parliament, all the theatres…’

Suddenly a picture flashed into her mind of him in a theatre foyer, dressed immaculately in a dinner jacket, with a gorgeous woman on his arm, an easy, sophisticated confidence about him—leading the kind of life that she could only dream of.

‘I expect,’ she said challengingly, ‘you’ll find us old-fashioned after a place like St Cuthbert’s.’

He looked at her quizzically, detecting her defensive tone, and remarked lightly, ‘I’m sure I won’t—most hospitals have similar procedures, don’t they?’

‘But what on earth made you come up to Delford?’ Jandy asked rather bluntly. ‘It sounds as if you had a wonderful life in London.’

‘My father isn’t too well and I need to be nearer him,’ he explained. ‘There’s a lot of sorting out to be done which I can’t do from London.’

Although he probably wishes he wasn’t here in boring Delford, which could boast a cinema and not much else, surmised Jandy, but she felt a little ashamed of her unwelcoming thoughts and said more gently, ‘I’m sorry about your father—that’s a worry for you, and of course it must have been a wrench to leave your exciting life in London.’

Was it her imagination, or did a fleeting glance of sadness cross his face, something indefinable that hinted that life hadn’t been that wonderful in London after all? However, when he spoke his voice was light.

‘Yes—I was very happy there…but life here will have its own advantages, I’m sure. I came from this area originally, and there’s some beautiful countryside around that I’m looking forward to exploring again and showing to my daughter. I’m coming back to my roots, you might say.’

‘That’ll be fun,’ said Jandy politely.

‘And you?’ he enquired. ‘Have you always lived and worked in Delford?’

Jandy nodded. ‘Most of the time. I did leave for a short while and went to Manchester.’ She paused for a second, then started wiping the draining board fiercely. Funny how even after all this time just the thought of the place sent a shock wave of horror through her mind. Then she turned back to him with a tight smile and said briefly, ‘It didn’t work out how I thought it would, so I came back.’

She tried to hide her feelings, but those warm brown eyes of hers couldn’t disguise the fact that something pretty awful had happened to her there, reflected Patrick. Funny—she looked like a golden girl that had everything going for her—soft fair natural looks and a healthy, curvaceous figure—who would have thought that there were any ghosts in her past? But he’d obviously touched a raw nerve there, he guessed, something that she wanted to forget…just like him, just like millions of people.

‘And you live in Delford now?’

‘Probably not for long,’ sighed Jandy. ‘I’ve just been told we’ve got to get out of the house we’re in—a pity, because it’s so near the childminder and shops. I doubt if we’ll find anywhere else so convenient—or so reasonably priced. There’s a small college in the town and all the good places get snapped up pretty quickly.’

‘I hope something turns up,’ Patrick said politely.

‘Oh, I’ll get something,’ said Jandy brightly, pushing away the horrible worry that she might not have a roof over her head in a month’s time. ‘And now perhaps I can give you a quick tour of the delights of Delford General A and E before we get cracking.’

Patrick looked at Jandy with interest as he followed her out of the room—so she had a child as well. For some reason he’d imagined her to be a free agent, but just because she had no wedding ring it didn’t mean she was unattached. He felt a momentary stab of disappointment, the reflex emotion of a hot-blooded male to a stunning woman who was already in a relationship, then shrugged inwardly. Speculating on a social life was the last thing he needed at the moment—looking after his father and little daughter would absorb all his time, and of course getting heavily involved with someone could be very dangerous, as he’d learned to his cost. At least, he reflected, there was help on hand now to look after Livy when she wasn’t at school, and she would have a lovely home and gardens to play in.

Jandy having shown him the layout of the theatres and X-ray department, they went back to the central station where computers monitoring the stage of every emergency patient’s treatment flickered and changed as the results of tests came through. On the wall behind the large curving desk were the whiteboards that listed which cubicle each patient was in, with a short résumé of their condition. A gradual building up of activity in the department had started, and a steady flow of patients was waiting to be seen by the triage nurse. In the background a child wailed from one of the cubicles in the paediatric section and a man was arguing loudly with the receptionist in the waiting room.

‘I thought this would happen,’ said Bob Thoms mournfully as he went off to one of the cubicles to examine an abscess on someone’s back. ‘I was hoping to get some new tyres from that garage opposite if we got ten minutes off for lunch, but it looks as if it’s going to be solid patients wall to wall.’

Tim Vernon, immaculate in his white coat and neatly knotted tie, came up to Patrick. ‘Sorry to leave you just then, Patrick, but you’ll soon get the hang of things, I’m sure, after all your experience in London. Anyway, it’s good to have you in the department—and I bet your father is delighted you’ve come back here to live with him. That place of his is far too big for one person. Tell him I miss our games of golf.’

So he’d moved his family in with his father, thought Jandy, standing near them as she flicked through the admissions chart. She wondered idly whereabouts in Delford Patrick’s father lived and smiled wryly. There was no chance of Abigail, her sister and herself moving in with her widowed mother while she was looking for a new place—her mother lived in a tiny house in Scotland and was busy running a truck stop café, with her boyfriend. Chloe Marshall loved her daughters and grandchild dearly, but she didn’t encourage long visits from her family—a few days were all she could tolerate!

Dr Vernon looked down at his clipboard and cleared his throat. ‘Right—let’s get started shall we? Staff Nurse—would you go with Dr Sinclair and look at the little boy in the paediatric department, number one cubicle? He’s got a gash on his leg, and a worrying bump on the head—I don’t know how he acquired it. You’d better book an X-ray.’

Tilly Rodman, passed by, pushing a dripstand, and whispered to Jandy, ‘Lucky you…send Dr Sinclair along to the plaster room when you’ve finished with him!’

For heaven’s sake, Jandy thought impatiently, the man was going to be intolerable if he felt that all the women in the unit were falling for him. She just hoped that he was good at his job.

They both walked quickly to the small wing off the main A and E department that had been designated for children. It was a small area that had been used in the past for high-dependency patients and although the walls had been decorated with nursery-rhyme characters to try and make it more child-friendly, it badly needed a make-over—and much more space.

Patrick Sinclair looked round it assessingly. ‘This is the paediatric section?’ he remarked with slight incredulity. ‘Is there a play area here for children that are waiting to be seen?’

‘We’re in line to have a larger wing very soon,’ said Jandy defensively. ‘It’s better than it used to be in the main department—of course, I’m sure you’re used to state-of-the-art facilities, but we’re short of cash here.’

He looked at her shrewdly as if he realised she was annoyed. ‘I’m not making comparisons—Cuthbert’s was a newly built hospital, so it wouldn’t be fair to do so. I was merely making an observation,’ he said smoothly. ‘Right—shall we get started?’

Annoyed by what she took to be rather high-handed criticism of her beloved Delford Infirmary, Jandy followed him into the cubicle.

Her heart went out to the little boy—large frightened eyes looked at them owlishly through wirerimmed glasses on a pale little face, and there were tear stains on his round cheeks. When they came in he knuckled his hand into his eyes to try and stop crying. She knew it wasn’t only the pain that upset him—it was the alien surroundings and not knowing what was going to happen to him next. Despite the efforts to make the room more child-friendly to a five-year-old, the place was deeply intimidating.

A purpling bump like a dark egg was on one of the child’s temples and one small leg had a long deep gash down the calf. There was something pathetic about that little limb laid across the bed.