Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby (4 page)

R
OSE
waited until the door had closed behind Jonathan before she let out her breath. She collapsed in the chair. He was gorgeous—and that smile! Did he have any idea what it did to women? Of course he did. Rose’s experience of men was limited but even she recognised a man who was used to being admired. She had never met anyone like him. After all, how could she have? Those weren’t the circles she moved in. But good looking though he was, she was not sure whether she approved of him. She much preferred men who had a sense of purpose, men who had some ambition, and taking over the family practice in order to have an easy life was as far off ambition as she could imagine. Not that she’d had many boyfriends. Three at the last count and none of them could be called exciting. But at least they were reliable. Reliable and safe. Somehow she knew safe wasn’t a word that could be applied to Jonathan Cavendish.

And it was just as well she preferred sensible men, she thought ruefully. The chances of Jonathan Cavendish being interested in her were less than zero. All she had to do was look at that flame-haired bombshell in the picture with him. She was so perfect—there was no way she would be
found absent-mindedly munching her way through a bowl of chocolates.

She glanced around the surgery. Enough of that sort of thinking. What now? He had left her his Dictaphone with his notes about the patients he had seen, so she could type them up and have them ready for him to sign on his return. And as for the rest of the afternoon? There were three home visits marked down in the book. What was she supposed to do while he was away? She swallowed a sigh. It was going to be a long day.

As she’d expected, it only took her thirty minutes to type up the letters on the computer. The note paper was as grand as the rest of the consulting rooms.

Just as she was preparing to eat her lunch, there was a frantic knocking on the door. She opened it to find a woman about her age with a young child of about two in her arms.

‘Please,’ she gasped. ‘Is there a doctor around? My daughter’s having difficulty breathing. I don’t know what happened—one minute she was okay then she started wheezing. My mobile’s battery’s flat or else I would have called an ambulance. Then I looked up and saw the doctor’s name on the door. Please help me.’

Rose could see that the young mother wasn’t far off hysteria. The little girl was having difficulty breathing but at least her lips were pink and the muscles in her neck weren’t standing out with each breath. The little girl was clutching a teddy bear as if her life depended on it.

She gripped the woman’s shoulder. ‘I know it’s difficult,’ she said, ‘but you have to calm down. Your little girl will get more distressed if she sees you panicking. Now what’s her name?’

‘Sally,’ the woman replied after taking a couple of deep breaths. ‘I’m Margaret.’

‘Could she have choked on anything? Inhaled something? A button? A peanut? Anything?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘Sally, I’m just going to look inside your mouth. Okay?’ Rose said calmly. The little girl looked at her with frightened eyes. Rose gently checked inside her mouth. There was nothing obvious blocking the little girl’s throat. If there had been, her breathing would have been much noisier. It was still an emergency, but not one that was immediately life threatening.

‘Okay, Margaret, come with me,’ Rose said, taking the little girl from her mother’s arms and walking briskly to the treatment room.

‘I was just having a coffee in the café round the corner and she was fine then.’ Margaret had calmed down a little, although anxiety and fear were still evident in her eyes.

‘Has this happened before?’ Rose asked. ‘Any history of asthma or allergies?’ There were two obvious possibilities as far as Rose could tell. Either Sally was having an asthma attack, in which case she needed a nebuliser, or she was having a severe allergic reaction, in which case she needed adrenaline. But which one was it?

‘Could you open your mouth as wide as you can, Sally? I’m just going to shine a torch down your throat. It won’t hurt at all, I promise.’

The little girl did as she was told. Rose shone the torch. As far as she could see, there was no swelling of the throat.

‘Is it possible she’s eaten a peanut? Or some other food she’s not had before?’

The mother shook her head. ‘She was in her high chair. All she had was the juice I gave her.’

In the background Rose heard the slamming of the door and then a voice calling her name. A wave of relief washed over her. It was Jonathan. At least now she’d have help.

‘In the treatment room,’ she called out. ‘Could you come, please?’

He appeared at the door of the room and took the situation in at a glance. He crouched next to the chair where Rose had plonked Sally back on her mother’s lap.

He touched the little girl lightly on the cheek. ‘Hello, there,’ he said softly. ‘What’s all this, then? You’re having difficulty breathing?’

While he was talking to the girl, Rose had located a nebuliser and some liquid salbutamol. As he started to listen to the little girl’s chest she held the vial up to him and he nodded approvingly towards her.

‘Margaret, do you know how much Sally weighs?’ Rose asked. ‘It’ll help us work out how much medicine to give her.’

‘I’m not sure, maybe about twelve kilograms. I haven’t weighed her recently. There’s been no need.’

Now that Margaret knew her daughter was getting the help she needed, some of the terror had left her voice.

‘It’s okay. We can make an estimate.’

Rose reached for a pulse oximeter. ‘I’m just going to put this on your toe,’ she said to Sally. ‘It won’t hurt either. It’s just a little toy I have to help me. Okay?’ Rose turned to Margaret. ‘It’ll monitor Sally’s blood oxygen levels. Tell us how much oxygen she’s taking in.’

The child was still having problems with her breathing, but now that her mother had calmed down, some of the
panic had subsided and her breathing was becoming easier. Nevertheless, she still needed treatment.

‘I think your daughter is having an asthma attack,’ Jonathan said, taking the nebuliser from Rose. ‘I’m just going to put this over your mouth, Sally, and I want you to take slow, deep breaths.’

The little girl shook her head from side to side, the panic beginning to return.

Frantically Rose looked around then she had an idea. She lifted the teddy from the little girl’s arms and placed a second nebuliser over the toy bear’s mouth. Rose crouched by Sally’s side and, placing her hands on either side of the little face, forced her to look into her eyes.

‘Watch me, Sally. We’re going to play a game. Every time I take a breath, like this, Teddy’s going to take a breath. You copy us, okay?

It seemed to work. Her eyes fixed on Rose and the teddy bear, Sally copied every breath Rose took. Jonathan watched carefully not saying anything. Slowly, Sally’s breathing returned to normal and after a while Jonathan removed the mask from the little girl’s face.

‘Your breathing should be all right now, Sally.’ He turned to her mother.

‘This is the first time it’s happened? Never before?’

Margaret shook her head.

‘It probably didn’t seem that way to you but I think that some of the problem was that Sally was getting quite panicky when she felt her breathing was tight. We could tell from looking at her breathing that she was still managing to take plenty of air into her lungs—her oxygen reading was ninety-eight per cent, which is pretty good, even when she was at her most distressed. Even
so, it was a very scary experience for you both,’ Jonathan explained.

Sally’s mother looked weak with relief. The little girl hid her head in her mother’s neck and closed her eyes. Rose knew that sleep would be the best thing for the child now.

‘We had been to the park to feed the ducks with a friend. Sally was sleepy so she went for a nap in my friend’s arms. When she woke up she needed to go to the bathroom, so I took the chance to have a coffee. She had been coughing in the park a little, but I didn’t think anything of it. It was only when we were in the coffee shop that she seemed to have difficulty getting her breath. I thought she’d be better in the fresh air but she kept on getting worse. Then I saw the name on the door. I hoped there would be someone who could help.’

She looked at Jonathan and Rose, her eyes glistening. ‘Thank you, both. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t helped me.’

‘I think it’s Rose who deserves most of the thanks,’ Jonathan said, straightening. He looked at her as if she puzzled him—as if she were a crossword and he was missing several clues.

‘You should see your own doctor as soon as you can. I suspect Sally is going to need regular medication for a while,’ he told Margaret.

Rose was turning over what Sally’s mother had said.

‘Do you have pets, Margaret?’

‘No, we don’t. Sally’s dad is allergic to animal fur.’

‘What about this friend? The one you met in the park?’

‘Linda? Oh, yes. She has about five cats. She loves them and is always rescuing another one.’

Rose caught Jonathan’s eye and knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

‘I think we might have found the culprit. It’s possible your daughter is allergic to cat fur. Perhaps there were cat hairs clinging to your friend and when Sally fell asleep in her arms she inhaled some of the allergens. Anyway, it’s only a possibility, but one worth thinking about and mentioning to your GP when you see him,’ he said.

Margaret refused a cup of tea, but accepted Rose’s offer to call her a taxi. Ten minutes later she was climbing into the cab, her sleeping child in her arms, still thanking Jonathan and Rose effusively.

When they had left, Rose turned to Jonathan. ‘I hope you’re all right with me bringing them in. I realise it wasn’t anything to do with your practice and if I had messed up, you could have been held liable.’

Jonathan looked at her his expression serious. ‘And if I told you that it was unforgivable, that you have never to help a passer-by again, what would you say?’

‘I would say that you need to find another temp,’ Rose replied hotly, before she noticed that corners of his mouth had lifted in a smile. ‘You’re kidding, right?’ she said, embarrassed she had jumped to the wrong conclusion so quickly.

‘Of course I’m kidding,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t dream of employing someone who would think of rules before they acted. That wouldn’t be right and…’ his smile grew wider and Rose felt the strangest feeling in the pit of her stomach “…so boring.’

He levered himself away from the wall against which he’d been leaning. ‘I think you’ve had enough excitement for the day. Why don’t you do the letters from this morning and then get away home?’

‘Letters are done, just waiting for your signature,’ Rose replied. What on earth did he think she’d being doing while he’d been out to lunch? She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s only two o’clock. I can’t possibly leave this early.’

He looked thoughtful.

‘How would you like to come on a home visit with me, then? From what I saw back there, the way you dealt with Margaret and Sally, you’d be perfect to step in for Vicki. What do you say? It’ll mean more money, of course.’

The nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach spread upwards. The look in his eyes was a heady mixture—sexy, naughty, mischievous. Rose had never felt so flustered in her life, but she was damned if she was going to let him see the effect he was having on her. She held out her hand. ‘You have a deal. And if you’re happy for me to find someone for the office, I can do that too. I’ll write down a name and number so you can check my references.’

He raised his eyebrows at her before shaking her hand. ‘Somehow I get the feeling they’re going to be first class.’

Rose tried to ignore the warmth that was spreading through her body.

‘Is it usual for you to take the office staff on a home visit?’ she asked.

‘Not really. But the visit I have down for the afternoon isn’t the easiest.’

For the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s to Jessamine Goldsmith’s house.’ She was the actress, the one who had been with him in the photograph in the magazine. His girlfriend.

‘And let’s just say that it would make me feel much more comfortable having you there.’

‘Isn’t she your girlfriend?’ What on earth was Jonathan
thinking? It was completely against the rules for a doctor to date a patient.

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

Involuntarily, Rose’s eyes slid to the magazine.

Jonathan’s eyes followed hers. He looked none too pleased when he realised what she’d seen.

‘Let’s clear one thing up,’ he said. ‘Never ever believe what you see in these magazines. Jessamine Goldsmith is
not
my girlfriend and never has been. She’s a patient who just happens to move in the same social circles as I do.’

‘In which case…’ Rose raised an eyebrow while hiding a smile ‘…what are we waiting for?’

As he manoeuvred the car through the thick London traffic, he flicked a switch and the rich sounds of Debussy filled the car. It was a composer Rose loved. She sat back in her seat, aware of the scent of expensive aftershave mingling with the smell of leather. It was so much better being in this car without having to drive. All she had to do now was relax.

‘How come we’re going to see Miss Goldsmith at home? Is she really unwell?’

Jonathan flicked her a smile.

‘Jessamine’s almost certainly fine, believe me. She simply prefers to have me see her at her house. A lot of the patients do. They find it less stressful.’ Again there was the smile. ‘Naturally, if they need to come to the consulting rooms for tests, then they do. Or if they’re shopping nearby. Some, however, prefer me to come to them. It’s much more discreet. Take Jessamine, for example, the press follow her everywhere, as they do many of my patients. Any visit to the doctor is viewed with curiosity and speculation. As
you can imagine, most people prefer not to have that kind of conjecture in the public domain.’

‘But aren’t they equally curious about a visit from the doctor?’

At this point they had left the traffic behind and were driving through one of the more exclusive parts of London. Jonathan pulled up outside a house that could have been a hotel it was so large. The Victorian façade was the grandest she had ever seen. Two tall pillars framed a massive front door.