BECAUSE Erica’s baby was pre-term, rather than using the modern bikini-line incision, Kieran needed to use the old-fashioned vertical incision. The section went without a hitch. But the baby’s Apgar score—a rating based on his breathing, heart rate, colour, muscle tone and reaction to stimulation—was worryingly low. ‘Three,’ Zoe said grimly.
‘Keep me posted.’ He nodded to the anaesthetist. ‘How’s she doing?’
‘BP’s not good.’
‘Not good here either.’ He worked on the placenta. ‘Forty per cent detachment, and I can’t stop the bleeding.’
‘Syntometrine?’ the anaesthetist asked.
‘Please.’ Kieran kept working to stem the bleeding. If he couldn’t, he’d need to do an emergency hysterectomy—meaning that Erica wouldn’t be able to have any more children. And if her little boy died…
No. He wasn’t going to think that.
Please, just don’t let her go into DIC, he prayed. Disseminated intravascular coagulation, or DIC, was a complication where the blood started clotting throughout the circulation, using up the clotting factors so the blood didn’t clot properly in the uterus. If that happened, there was a good chance that Erica would bleed to death.
‘Come on, come on,’ he muttered. ‘Zoe, what’s the five-minute Apgar?’
‘Still three. Resuscitating,’ Zoe called back.
‘Don’t you dare die on me,’ he said softly. ‘Either of you.’ Then he glanced at the anaesthetist. ‘We need fresh frozen plasma and platelet concentrates.’
At ten minutes, the Apgar score was still three. ‘Oh, no. He’s arrested,’ Zoe said in anguish.
‘Keep going, team. We’re getting there,’ Kieran said, hoping that his voice sounded a lot more confident than he felt.
But by the time Erica’s bleeding was finally under control, Zoe had made the call on the baby. ‘I’m sorry, Kieran.’
‘Me, too.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I’ll talk to her husband. Poor woman.’
‘Holls said the driver who caused the crash was using his mobile phone while he was driving.’
Despite the fact that it was against the law, plenty of motorists still thought it was OK to drive with one hand and less than half their attention. ‘Don’t tell me. He got away with hardly a scratch?’ Kieran asked.
‘Pretty much. He was complaining of whiplash—though Holls set him straight about fraudulent insurance claims, and he hasn’t asked for painkillers since. She’s also given a statement to the police, who are going to throw the book at him.’ Zoe’s smile was mirthless. ‘And, no, you can’t go to the front of the queue to wring his neck. Wait until I’ve finished.’
Kieran nodded. He hated cases like this. They were rare, but hurt enough to make him question why he’d gone into obstetrics. ‘Thanks for trying.’
‘I just wish…’ She shook her head, grimacing.
‘It’s not your fault, Zoe. You know the score with abruption. The worse the abruption, the less chance the baby has.’
‘I know. It doesn’t make it any easier, though.’ Zoe sighed. ‘Do you want me to stick around when you talk to her husband?’
He shook his head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be OK.’
Telling Rod Somers that he’d lost his baby son and had nearly lost his wife, too, was heartbreaking. Rod reacted with stunned silence, then shook his head. ‘No. No. It can’t be true. I only saw Erica at lunchtime. She was going to her mum’s for the afternoon. Everything was fine then. The baby was kicking well this morning. I saw his little foot move across Erica’s tummy.’
‘I’m sorry. Another motorist hit her car. The crash caused her placenta to tear away from the wall of her uterus, and the baby was starved of oxygen. Our paediatrician did everything she could, but the baby’s heart just stopped beating and although she tried, she couldn’t bring him back.’ Kieran put a hand on Rod’s shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry. The only good news I can give you is that Erica should be fine. She lost a lot of blood and we needed to give her a transfusion, but you’ve still got her.’
‘She could have died, too?’
Kieran nodded. ‘But we were lucky. She’s still here and she’ll recover.’ Though he’d asked the midwives to keep a very close eye on her for the first signs of DIC.
‘Could it happen again? Losing the baby like that, I mean?’
‘It’s highly, highly unlikely.’
‘So she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I know that isn’t enough and it doesn’t even begin to make up for your loss, but I’m truly sorry. If you’d like to see your little boy, I can take you to see him.’
‘What about Erica?’
‘She’s still coming round from the anaesthetic, but the minute that she does I’ll make sure you can see her.’
‘I just…’ Rod sounded dazed. ‘I can’t take this in. She only gave up work last week. We haven’t even finished doing the nursery or anything. And now…’ His mouth worked but nothing came out.
‘It takes time,’ Kieran said gently. ‘And we’re here whenever you need to talk. Any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them. I’m just so, so sorry.’
‘You did your best, mate.’
Yes. But it hadn’t been enough.
Kieran stayed with Rod until Erica had come round, helped him break the bad news, then walked quietly back to his office. He rang down to Holly.
‘Holls, it’s Kieran. Just thought you’d like to know that Erica made it.’
‘That’s great. How’s the baby?’
Kieran took a deep breath. ‘He arrested and Zoe couldn’t bring him back.’
Holly swore. ‘Sorry,’ she added.
‘You’re only saying what I’m thinking. Sorry I couldn’t ring you with better news.’
‘Not your fault. But I’ll pass the information on to the police.’
‘Good. Let’s hope the bastard doesn’t weasel out of it.’
‘Times like this, I wish I hadn’t taken the Hippocratic oath.’ Holly sighed. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
Kieran couldn’t face the rest of the ward. He couldn’t concentrate on his paperwork either. He’d written the same sentence of his report for the sixth time when there was a knock at his door.
He wanted to snarl ‘Go away!’ but remembered just in time that he was the senior doctor on the ward, so he was supposed to support the rest of the team. He schooled his voice into neutral. ‘Come in.’
Judith walked in and closed the door behind her.
Heaven and hell, in one neat little package. Right now, there was nothing he’d like more than for Judith Powell to kiss him better. But they were feeling their way towards friendship. If he didn’t keep himself in check, the whole thing would blow up in his face.
‘Zoe just told me about Theatre. Are you OK?’ she asked.
‘I’ve had better days.’ Understatement of the year.
‘Come on. You need a break. I’ll shout you a coffee and a chocolate brownie.’ She touched his shoulder.
Kieran swallowed hard. ‘If I were you, I’d move your hand,’ he warned, his voice low.
‘Why?’
‘Because, after the day I’ve had, I might do something…rash.’
Judith’s voice became husky. ‘Such as?’
The temptation was too much. He fell.
He curled his fingers round hers. ‘This.’ He drew her hand towards his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist, touching the tip of his tongue to her pulse point. ‘And this.’
Judith felt as if her bones were dissolving. She touched his face with her other hand—his skin was soft, with just the beginnings of stubble rasping against her fingertips. She ran her thumb over his lower lip. He opened his mouth and his teeth grazed the pad of her thumb, very lightly. Her body reacted instantly and she swayed towards him, wanting him to kiss her—wanting much, much more.
‘Jude. I can’t stop thinking about you,’ he said, his voice hoarse with longing. ‘Ever since I first saw you…I can’t take my eyes off you. Can’t get you out of my mind. It’s driving me crazy.’
‘Me, too.’ She slid one hand into his hair. It felt good. Clean, silky soft. She moved the tips of her fingers in tiny circles, massaging away his tension. ‘But I’m not very good at this sort of thing.’ She always, but always picked the wrong man.
‘Maybe you just lack confidence.’ He gently disentangled her hand from his hair, kissed the palm of her other hand, then stood up. ‘Jude, I want you. So much. But we can’t do this.’
He was turning her down. He didn’t really want her—he was just being kind. She only hoped her misery didn’t show on her face. But when she glanced at him, she saw his eyes were filled with tortured longing.
‘Why?’ she whispered. Why was he turning her down, if he wanted her, too?
‘We’re colleagues.’
‘Doesn’t matter. We can be professional, at work.’
He nodded. ‘I know. But it’s the wrong time.’ He raked a hand through his hair.
Did he have any idea how sexily rumpled he looked when he did that? It made her want to grab him and kiss him until they were both dizzy. But the look on his face stopped her. Just.
‘My sister needs me right now,’ Kieran explained quietly, ‘and I can’t let her down.’
Judith knew she shouldn’t say it. That she should salvage some of her pride. But the words came out anyway. ‘You and me…that wouldn’t mean letting her down.’
‘Wouldn’t it?’ He swallowed. ‘Hell. I want to be with you, Jude. But until Tess is on an even keel again, I don’t want to risk making her feel worse. She’s not thinking straight. If she knows I’m seeing you, she might decide that she’s cramping my style and do something stupid—like moving into another grotty bedsit. If she cuts herself off from me as well as from Mum and Martyn, she’ll have no one to turn to. It’s not fair to let her struggle on her own. I can’t be that selfish.’
He had a point. ‘I’ll wait,’ Judith said softly.
‘That’s the problem. I don’t want to wait. I want you right now. And…Oh, hell.’ Kieran pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Judith had been kissed before. Plenty of times. But it had never been like this. Had never felt as if all the stars had suddenly gone supernova, as if time had stopped and the whole universe had shrunk to a tiny, infinitely bright sphere containing just the two of them.
When he broke the kiss, she was completely disorientated. She had no idea how long it had lasted—seconds, minutes, hours, days? Worse still, she’d untucked his shirt and her palms were pressed flat against the bare skin of his back. She couldn’t even remember doing that. But it felt good. He felt good. And she wanted more.
‘Um,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘You sound like I feel.’
‘Dazed. Is it me, or did an earthquake just hit the hospital?’
His grin broadened. ‘Don’t ask me. What day is it?’
‘No idea. Though it’s got a Y in it.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘Are you busy after work tomorrow?’
‘Tess,’ he reminded her gently.
‘We could have dinner.’ Before he could turn her down, she added quickly, ‘We don’t have to be long. The Lotus Palace down the road does a running buffet. It’ll take half an hour—an hour, tops. We could go straight from work.’
‘So if I call Tess and tell her I’ll be an hour late…’ he began.
‘And you make sure you get home when you say you will,’ she continued.
‘Then she won’t worry, and we can snatch some time together,’ he finished.
‘Enough to keep us going,’ Judith said. ‘Just you and me. Nobody else needs to know about it.’
He was silent for a long, long time. Just when she thought he was going to refuse, he said softly, ‘I thought we were just doing friendship?’
‘We were. But…’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s not enough for me. Not now.’
‘Me neither,’ he admitted. ‘But you said you didn’t do affairs.’
‘There’s a first time for everything.’ She bit her lip. ‘And if I don’t, I think I’m going to spontaneously combust in the middle of the ward.’
‘Mmm, and we can’t have that, can we?’
He was looking at her mouth. She shook her head. ‘Stop it.’
‘Stop what?’
‘Looking at me like that.’
‘Why?’
‘Because…’ Because she knew he was thinking about kissing her. And because she was tall, their mouths weren’t that far apart. Too near, too tempting. She leaned forward and kissed him.
This time, when the kiss broke, he was shuddering. ‘I’m going to need a lot of cold showers.’
‘Me, too,’ Judith said wryly.
He groaned. ‘Don’t. Now I’m going to think about you in the shower. About being in there with you.’
She could imagine it, too. Water cascading over them. Kieran lifting her. The coolness of the tiles behind her back and the warmth of his body against hers. ‘I’m going to leave your office before people start whispering,’ she said huskily.
‘Jude, they’ll whisper more if you go out there right now.’
She frowned. ‘Why?’
He rubbed his thumb against her lower lip. ‘Because you look as if you’ve just been kissed.’
Well, she had been. Very thoroughly.
‘Your skin’s very sensitive, isn’t it?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s a redhead thing.’
‘You have beautiful skin. Beautiful hair.’ His voice grew slightly rougher. ‘I want to see it spread over my pillow.’
‘Kieran!’
‘Sorry. But I do.’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘Hell. This is a first. You’ve turned me into a gibbering Neanderthal.’
She laughed. ‘And you were so sophisticated before?’
‘Well…’ He laughed back. ‘More than I am right now. Which isn’t saying a lot.’
‘Call me tonight.’ She took a pen and the pad of sticky notes from his desk and wrote her number across the top.
Kieran watched her. Lord, her hands were beautiful. He wanted to touch them. Wanted them to touch him. Long, slender fingers, short nails filed into perfect ovals, soft, smooth skin. No jewellery. And from somewhere deep inside, he found himself imagining a slender, smooth platinum band encircling her left ring finger.
He’d kissed her. Once, twice. That didn’t mean she was going to marry him. So why was he suddenly imagining her dressed in an ivory silk sheath dress, her hair loose, at the altar of a tiny country church, right by his side?
This was scary. Seriously scary. He never, but never got involved this deeply. Or this quickly. It wasn’t a good idea to get carried away like this. He should back off right now. Before he did something stupid. Before both of them got hurt.
Then he became aware that Judith was looking at him.
‘Sorry. I missed what you said.’ Not that he was going to admit what he’d been thinking about. Jude Bailey. Dr Judith Bailey. Yes, it had a good ring to it. But it was much, much too soon to start thinking about anything like that.
‘Call me. Tonight. Doesn’t matter how late.’
‘I’ll call you,’ he promised.
She kissed the tips of her fingers and blew him a kiss. ‘I daren’t do a real one. Touching.’
He knew exactly what she meant. ‘I wouldn’t be able to let you leave.’
‘Call me,’ she mouthed, and left his office.
Kieran forgot the rest of his report. After what had just happened, his concentration was shot to pieces. He’d kissed Jude. She’d kissed him back. And she’d made him a proposal.
That she’d be his secret lover.
The thought was heady and sobering at the same time. Heady, because his wildest dreams were about to come true: his inner Neanderthal was going to get the woman he wanted. But sobering, because it was going to stay a secret. Were they storing up more trouble for themselves by doing it this way?
But they had no other choice. Not if they wanted to help Tess get better. His baby sister had a guilt complex a mile wide and he didn’t want to make it any worse. And there was only way to be sure she didn’t find out about it until she was ready to cope: by keeping his relationship with Jude a secret from the rest of the world, too.
Judith was right. He knew that. He just wished it didn’t have to be this way.
When Kieran got home that evening, the house was in a mess. There were toys everywhere. The only food he could smell was baby food that Tess had reheated in the microwave—and she hadn’t washed up Charlie’s dirty bowl or even the breakfast things. And Tess herself, although she tried to smile, had suspiciously red eyes.
‘I’m sorry. I meant to clear up the mess, but—’
‘Hey. I hope I’m not that much of an ogre.’ He gave her a hug. ‘It’s OK, Tess. You’ve had a really rough day and in your shoes I’d have spent the whole day cuddling Charlie and to hell with the housework.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Come on, I’ll cook dinner for us, and you can open a bottle of wine.’
Tess’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘I’m just hopeless.’
‘No, you’re not. It’s tough, coping with a little one. You’ve been through a lot lately—not just Charlie’s accident, but everything else as well. You’ve been feeling awful and trying to be brave and hide it from everyone.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m just hopeless. Aidan was right about me.’
‘Let’s agree to disagree on that one. Believe me, the only reason I haven’t put him straight about his behaviour—or spread him a millimetre thick across the whole of London—is because you asked me not to.’ Kieran stroked her hair. ‘Maybe if you had a chat with someone about how you’re feeling, Tessikins?’
Even her old childhood nickname didn’t touch her. She shrugged him off. ‘I’m all right.’
He sighed inwardly. Tess needed to see someone, but she also needed to feel it was her idea. If she thought he was pushing her too hard, she might cut herself off from him—and then she’d be completely on her own. He couldn’t risk that. ‘OK, sis. I’m starving. You open the wine, I’ll do the pasta.’
By the end of the evening, Kieran was still no nearer to persuading Tess to talk to a doctor. Maybe, he thought, I should have a word with her GP myself. Tell him what Jude and I think. Ask him how we can get Tess to talk to him—maybe use Charlie’s arm as an excuse.
Or maybe Jude would have some ideas.
Jude. He’d promised to call her. He’d put the sticky note with her number in his wallet.
Except it wasn’t there. He emptied his wallet and went through the contents twice. Still no note.
Hell. Had he left it on his desk? Surely not.
He grabbed the telephone directory. Please, please, let her be there. But then he saw the list of J. Powells in the area. He had a one in seven chance of picking the right one, he calculated, assuming that she wasn’t ex-directory. But at this time of night, the other six J. Powells wouldn’t appreciate a call.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe he’d put her number somewhere else. His pockets? No. His coat? No. Hell, hell, hell. Why hadn’t he transferred her number to his mobile phone as soon as he’d left the hospital?
Then he saw his briefcase. It was a long shot, but…He emptied it over the dining-room table and went through file after file. And at last he saw the sticky note on the back of one of the files. He grinned, stuffed the files back in his briefcase, then grabbed his mobile phone.
Her answering-machine clicked in.
Doesn’t matter how late, she’d said. Maybe she hadn’t meant it.
But halfway through the message, she picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’ she said sleepily.
‘Did I wake you?’
‘No. Just dozing. I, um, wasn’t sure if you’d ring.’
‘If I’d had to walk across burning coals first, it wouldn’t have stopped me calling you,’ he said fiercely, his voice low.
‘Good.’
He could almost hear the smile in her voice. ‘So, you and me. My secret lover.’ He paused. ‘I don’t want you to be a secret. I’m not ashamed of you.’
‘I know. It’s just…circumstances.’
‘It’s not a hole-in-a-corner thing.’
‘Kieran, stop stressing. It was my suggestion, if you remember.’
‘Mmm. Call me paranoid.’
‘No. Just sweet.’
‘Sweet?’ He chuckled. ‘I don’t do funfairs and winning teddies for my girl, you know.’
‘You mean, you’re a lousy shot on a coconut shy?’ she teased back.
‘OK, I admit it. But I can do other things. We could go punting. How do you fancy a lazy Sunday afternoon on the River Cam, followed by a picnic under a willow tree?’
There was a pause, then Judith squeaked. ‘Are you telling me you went to Cambridge?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘So I’ve found myself a brainy guy. I should have guessed. You’re very young to be a consultant, and Dad said you’d go far.’ She sighed. ‘I’m not academic.’
‘You’re a qualified obstetrician, Jude. So don’t tell me you’re not clever.’
‘I’m not Cambridge standard. Not your standard.’
‘Hey. I was always picked last in school teams. I was the one who missed the football pass, or dropped the baton in the relay race, or didn’t make the dead-cert cricket catches.’
‘I can’t cook,’ she fenced.
‘And I can’t sing,’ he retorted. ‘But between us…’ He paused. ‘I think we’re going to make a good team.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice grew slightly deeper. ‘I know something else you’re good at.’
‘Oh?’
‘Kissing.’
He groaned. ‘Jude, this conversation isn’t any good for my blood pressure.’
‘Or mine,’ she admitted wryly. ‘I wish I could wind time forward. Until the end of our shift tomorrow.’
‘Dinner. Can I hold your hand under the table?’
‘Mmm. And we can share a plate.’
‘Share chopsticks,’ he offered.
‘Sounds good.’ She sighed. ‘I wish you were here.’
‘So do I.’ He switched to his best Humphrey Bogart voice. ‘We’ll always have the Lotus Palace.’
She chuckled. ‘Yes.’
Hell, this even felt like Casablanca. But he didn’t think he’d be selfless enough to let Jude go on that plane at the end. ‘We’ll have Paris, one day. We’ll walk hand in hand in the moonlight by the Seine. Go to Montmartre. And I’ll kiss you at the top of the Eiffel Tower.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Good. Because he meant it. He wanted to do all the romantic things with her. Show her off to the world, let everyone know that Judith Powell was his girl. ‘It’s late. I’d better let you go.’ He sighed. ‘I wish I could kiss you goodnight properly.’
‘You can, tomorrow night.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he quoted back at her. ‘Jude—before you go, will you sing me something to help me sleep?’
‘Sure.’ She sang the first verse of ‘Count Your Blessings (Instead Of Sheep)’.
‘High Society.’ Kieran gave a wry chuckle. ‘Though I think you’re more beautiful than Grace Kelly.’
‘Charmer. But I was teasing.’ There was a slight pause, and then she crooned ‘Summertime’ down the phone to him. The song suited her husky voice, and Kieran was enthralled.
‘You’re amazing,’ he whispered when she’d finished. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow,’ she said.
Kieran pressed the ‘end’ button. ‘And I think, Judith Powell, I’m more than halfway to falling in love with you,’ he said quietly.