Their Very Special Marriage (17 page)

Hell, hell, hell. A positive Rovsing's sign. ‘OK, son. I know it hurts, but can you be brave for Daddy?'

Robin nodded, close to tears.

‘That's my boy.' He kissed Robin's forehead, and looked at Ginny. ‘I'm sorry to ask you this, but could you stay with Sophie, please? Rob might have appendicitis and I don't want to take any chances. I need to get him to hospital.'

‘Do you want me to call the ambulance?'

Oliver shook his head. ‘Thanks, but it'll be quicker to take him in myself.' He carried Robin down the stairs. ‘Daddy's driving you to hospital, darling. We'll meet Mummy there. Don't cry, darling. We'll make you feel better soon.' He paused at the doorway. ‘Thanks, Ginny. We owe you one.'

‘No problem. Look, I'll take Sophie back to mine—she won't wake up, and you won't have to worry about how long you and Rachel are at the hospital. I'll keep her fed and entertained until you're ready to collect her. I've got your spare key so you don't have to worry—I'll lock up behind me.'

‘You're wonderful,' Oliver said. ‘I don't know how we can ever thank you.'

‘I'll tell you next time Ben's away on a course and there's a spider in my living room,' she said with a smile. ‘Take care. Give me a ring and let me know how Rob is, will you? It doesn't matter how late.'

‘Of course.' Oliver strapped Robin into the passenger seat and rang Rachel on his mobile at the same time. ‘Rachel? It's me. I've checked Robin and I think he might have appendicitis—you know how hard it is to diagnose. I don't
want to take any chances so I'm driving him to hospital. Ginny's taking Sophie back to hers. Go in the ambulance with Niamh and Dervla, and I'll meet you in the emergency department, OK?' Before Rachel had a chance to say anything, he'd cut the connection, thrown his phone into the passenger footwell and was driving his son to hospital.

* * *

Rachel kept assessing Niamh as methodically and efficiently as Oliver would have done, but part of her mind was screaming to the ambulance to hurry up and get them all to hospital.

‘Is your little boy going to be all right?' Dervla asked.

Rachel made an effort to keep her voice calm. ‘Oliver thinks it might be appendicitis.'

‘I'm so sorry. You must want to be with him, and...' Dervla shook her head, fighting back tears.

‘Not a problem. Oliver's with him.'

‘It's not the same. When it's your child, you want to be there.'

Rachel nodded. ‘But I'll be with him soon enough.' Just when she was about to consider giving Niamh hydrocortisone, the ambulance arrived.

The paramedics put the little girl straight onto oxygen and attached a pulse oximeter to her finger. ‘Her sats are eighty-seven on full oxygen. We'll need to admit her,' the first paramedic said, reading off the machine.

‘But she's going to be all right?' Dervla asked.

‘She'll be fine. She'll probably need to stay in hospital overnight, and they'll give her drugs through a nebuliser to help open up her airways again,' Rachel explained.

‘Would you like to come with us, Mrs Brady?' the paramedic asked.

‘Can I come, too?' Rachel asked. ‘Apart from being Niamh's GP, my son's just been taken to the emergency department—possible appendicitis.'

‘Of course,' the paramedic said.

The nearer they got to the hospital, the harder Rachel found it to concentrate, but she forced herself to stay calm and kept reassuring Dervla about Niamh's condition.

‘She's in the best place, here,' she told Dervla when they reached the hospital and followed the trolley through to the emergency department. ‘I'll ring you tomorrow and see how she is.'

‘Thank you. And I hope your little boy's all right,' Dervla said.

‘Thanks.' Rachel squeezed her hand, then rushed through to the reception desk and asked about Robin. She was directed into one of the cubicles. When she went in, Rob was lying on the bed, looking pale and in pain, and Oliver was standing beside him, holding one hand and stroking his forehead. He was talking in a low voice, clearly soothing their little boy.

‘Mummy,' Robin said weakly, trying to smile.

‘Hello, handsome.' She gave him a kiss. ‘How are you feeling?'

‘My tummy hurts.'

‘Oh, darling. We'll make you feel better soon, I promise,' she said, taking his free hand and holding it tightly.

‘We're not a hundred per cent sure it's his appendix. The PR exam—' a rectal examination ‘—didn't reveal any tenderness high to the right.'

‘That still doesn't rule out appendicitis,' Rachel said.

‘They've taken a urine sample and given him some painkillers,' Oliver told her. ‘The paediatric registrar's on his way.'

‘Right.' She swallowed hard. Stupid. She knew they were in the right place to get help for Rob. But there were so many things it could be, and the wait for test results gave them time to think about what it might be, to drag the scariest and rarest conditions from their memories. She pulled
herself together. Just. Oliver had stepped into her shoes briefly, and she'd stepped into his, so he'd be expecting an update on their patient. ‘I was about to give Niamh hydrocortisone when the ambulance arrived. Niamh's sats were low, even on oxygen. I told Dervla I'd ring her tomorrow for an update.'

‘Right.'

There was a flicker of anger in his eyes, Rachel noted. Surely he hadn't expected her to stay in the emergency department with Niamh and Dervla when their own child was ill? He'd even said to her that he'd meet her there! Before she had the chance to ask him just what his problem was, the registrar arrived. They stepped out of the cubicle to give him space.

‘What was that look for?' Rachel demanded in a cross whisper.

‘What look?' He spoke at the same reduced volume, clearly not wanting to draw attention to them but, like Rachel, unable to keep his feelings to himself.

‘Don't tell me you expected me to stay with a patient instead of being with my son. And don't you dare tell me
you
would have stayed with her, not with Rob here ill and needing you.'

‘It's not that,' he said tightly.

‘Then what?'

‘If you must know, I'm not very happy that you're telling other people we're in a rocky patch.'

‘What? Who?'

‘Ginny. It's obvious you've talked it over with her. Who else? Your mum? Your sister?'

She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Well, you sure as hell weren't talking to me. Every time I tried, you retreated into your office or you got called out. What was I supposed to do? Be like you and bottle things up and pretend nothing's wrong and I'm a happy little bunny?'

‘It's our
private
life. I don't want the whole village discussing us!'

‘The way you're carrying on, they'll be talking about us soon enough,' she snarled. How many people had already noticed him sneaking around with Caroline? How many people were already pitying her behind her back? ‘Anyway, I didn't discuss anything with Ginny. She's obviously worked it out for herself.'

‘And what's that supposed to mean?'

‘You're hardly ever there, Oliver. When you are, you're never outside with me and the kids—you're stuck in your office, and even the kids talk about Daddy being ‘busy' all the time. It doesn't take a huge leap of the imagination to work out what that means, does it?' Worry about Rob made her temper flare. If he could nitpick at a time like this, then just maybe their marriage wasn't worth saving. ‘It's up to you if you want to stay or go, but we can't go on like this.'

‘What do you mean, stay or go?'

‘What I said. I'm not prepared to play second fiddle any more.'

Oliver stared at Rachel in shock. Was she saying that if he didn't get out-of-hours cover, she'd leave him? ‘Are you giving me an ultimatum?'

‘Just think about it. Think about what you're doing. Think about what you're throwing away.'

This wasn't fair. If people needed him, he had to be there. Why couldn't she understand that? ‘Don't ask me to choose. I can't do that.'

She looked anguished. ‘Then where do we go from here?'

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘Right now, I just don't know.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

I
T WAS
another three hours before the doctors decided that Robin didn't have appendicitis after all: it was a urinary tract infection. ‘We've done a full blood count, checked his Us and Es and blood glucose. They're all normal, but there were signs of proteinuria—' protein in Robin's urine ‘—so we're pretty sure it's a UTI and we'll give him a five-day course of amoxycillin,' the registrar said.

‘A urinary tract infection.' Rachel let out a sigh of relief. ‘Once I knew he wasn't vomiting blood, my first thought was appendicitis.'

‘Rovsing's sign was positive,' Oliver added. ‘I started thinking peritonitis.'

‘No, but when we get the MSU results, I might want to book him in for an ultrasound scan and renal tests,' the registrar said.

The scan and renal tests would check for possible damage to Robin's kidneys, and whether he had a condition known as vesicoureteric reflux, where the urine travelled back up the ureter. The tests were common policy after a first urinary tract infection.

‘So we can take him home now?' Rachel asked.

‘His prescription's back from Pharmacy so, yes, you can. But make sure you give him plenty to drink,' the registrar warned.

‘Plus, make sure when he goes to the loo, he voids his bladder fully and his underwear isn't too tight,' Oliver added.

The registrar grinned. ‘That's the upside of having medics as the patient's parents: I don't have to go into the full spiel.
You know the drill about antibiotics and at least you'll stick to it.'

‘The downside is that we know too much and we'll panic that it's something really, really rare and drive you bananas with questions,' Rachel said wryly.

‘Something like that.' He ruffled Robin's hair. ‘Right, young man. You can go home and get some sleep. And maybe let your mum and dad get some sleep, too.'

‘I'll ring Ginny and let her know what's going on,' Rachel said as Oliver carried Robin through the car park. When she'd finished the call, she informed him, ‘Ginny's keeping Sophie overnight and she'll bring her back in the morning. And I think you should sleep in the spare room tonight.'

‘Why?' Because he wouldn't give up his ideal of treating patients like people instead of numbers?

‘In case Rob needs me in the night. It's easier if he's in with me—then we won't disturb you,' Rachel said, climbing into the back seat with her son.

‘Right.' He could see the logic behind that. But he still had the feeling that she had another reason, too. That she didn't want him in her bed any more. ‘Um, I'd better sort out a locum for you, for Monday at least.' He glanced in the rear-view mirror and decided not to suggest Caroline by name. For some reason Rachel didn't seem to like Cally very much. Strange, because he'd thought they'd get on well.

‘Do that,' she said, sounding as if she didn't care any more.

They drove home in near silence. Robin was asleep by the time Oliver parked, so he carried his son upstairs.

‘I'll see you in the morning,' Rachel said.

Hell. He couldn't let things fester like this overnight. ‘Rach. You do know I love you, don't you?' he asked.

She said nothing, just looked at him. And her eyes were filled with doubt.

‘I've loved you since the moment I first set eyes on you,' he said softly.

But if she remembered their first meeting, it obviously didn't mean the same to her because as he spoke, her face grew more and more set. Obviously loving her wasn't enough. And he noted that she didn't say it back, didn't tell him that
she
loved
him
. So did that mean she'd fallen out of love with him, that his love wasn't enough for her any more?

Not wanting to face the idea that his marriage was speeding further and further towards meltdown, he sighed and headed for the spare room.

* * *

How could he? Rachel thought in anguish as she lay awake beside her sleeping son. How
could
he have used those words to her—the same words his mistress had used to him? She bit her lip. Oliver hadn't been like this when she'd first met him, or when she'd married him, or even when they'd first had the children. So when had he become such a smooth liar? Why hadn't she noticed it had been more than just the practice driving them apart?

And why couldn't she picture a happy ending for them?

* * *

Robin was much better in a couple of days and, although Oliver had moved back into their bedroom, Rachel had made it very clear she didn't want him to touch her. She hadn't cuddled into him, even in her sleep, and the mornings he'd woken up wrapped round her, she'd wriggled out of his arms in silence. By the middle of the following week, when Rachel was booked to go on a paediatric course, the strain between them almost hummed. They were both very polite and very cautious, knowing that one wrong word could spark off what might be a final row.

On the morning of her course, Rachel was wearing a little black suit—a suit Oliver couldn't remember having seen
before. And she was wearing high heels. She didn't look like an approachable family doctor or a mother of two. She looked
glamorous
.

He swallowed back the flash of jealousy. Ridiculous. They'd hit a rough patch, but she wouldn't throw fourteen years of their life away like that. She'd just dressed up a bit for her course and that was all. She was probably looking forward to a full day of being an adult and having grown-up conversations, instead of doing her shift at the surgery and then spending the rest of her time with the kids. She'd had a rough time recently, what with Sophie's chickenpox and Robin's urinary tract infection, and she'd done most of the nursing herself. Because he, of course, had been busy with the surgery, he thought with a stab of guilt.