скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Sphygmomanometer,’ Jenna supplied. She put the disc of the stethoscope on the crook of Maria’s elbow. ‘Yes, he’s a lovely man. And a very good doctor, from what I could see.’
‘He was very impressed that you came to the appointment with me.’
Jenna grinned. ‘I think he was more impressed at your initiative in hiring a private nurse.’
Maria shook her head. ‘I saw him watching you with Danielle, too. When we were leaving he said, “You’ve got a treasure there, Maria,” and I said, “Don’t I know it?”’
Jenna concentrated on the mercury level as she released the valve to hide the flush of pleasure at Maria’s praise. ‘Good. One-fifty on ninety. That’s the same as yesterday.’ She noted the pressure in a notebook along with the blood-glucose level and the dose of insulin given. ‘Now, we’d better get some breakfast into you. I don’t want you getting hypoglycaemic and shaky again.’
‘I feel like it’s taking over my life,’ Maria sighed. ‘The blood prick. The injection. The right food. Tests and more tests! Watching the clock all the time to make sure that nothing is missed.’
‘It’ll take a while to get used to.’ Jenna scooped up Danielle, who was already making a beeline for the door. Still wearing her cute pink sleepsuit and with her curls still tousled, she was irresistibly cuddly. Jenna gave her a quick kiss before turning her head to smile at Maria. ‘You’ll be amazed at how it becomes part of the routine in a while. Like cleaning your teeth. Once we get to know how your body reacts to the insulin and what effect things like exercise have, you should be able to get down to only two injections a day. You might even be a candidate for having a pump system that sits under your skin and administers insulin automatically.’
They were halfway along the wide, upstairs hallway now. The door to a bathroom was on the left and Jenna knew the closed door on the right belonged to Paul’s bedroom. She adjusted her hold on the baby whose fuzzy sleepsuit made her feel like a living teddy bear.
What did Paul wear to sleep in?
‘I do not like that idea,’ Maria announced.
‘Sorry?’ Jenna had been dealing with an idea that was disconcertingly attractive. More than one idea, in fact. Old pyjama pants tied up with a string? Boxers? Nothing at all…?
‘A pump. The needle would be there in my skin? All the time?’
‘No. Actually, the whole pump system is placed under the skin. Like a pacemaker. You wouldn’t feel it.’ Jenna’s steps slowed. ‘I should get Ella dressed before we go downstairs.’
‘Why bother?’ Maria ruffled Ella’s curls and kissed her. ‘What’s so wrong with having breakfast in your pyjamas?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’ Laughing, they moved on together towards the stairs. ‘And are you sure you don’t mind me wearing jeans?’
‘You must wear whatever makes you happy, Jenna. I’m going to get into old clothes soon. It’s such a lovely day and I wish to do some gardening.’
‘But it’s Wednesday.’
Maria sighed. ‘Si. So it is.’
Wednesdays weren’t just one of Paul’s heavy days for the operating theatre. It was also one of the weekdays that Louise chose to pay an extended visit to Hamilton Drive.
She arrived while they were still in the kitchen and the laughter Ella had generated with her own attempts to get porridge and stewed apples anywhere but into her mouth faded abruptly.
Louise bent to kiss Ella but drew back. ‘What is that in her hair?’
‘Porridge.’ Jenna grinned. ‘I’ll go and get her cleaned up. It’s time to get dressed anyway.’
‘Yes.’ Louise eyed the jeans Jenna was wearing as she stood up to lift Ella from the high chair. The housekeeper, Shirley, distracted her from making any comment.
‘Coffee, Mrs Gibbs?’
‘Yes. Black. No sugar.’
Shirley caught Jenna’s gaze as she went past the back of Louise’s chair. The subtle roll of the housekeeper’s eyes was eloquent. As if she didn’t know by now how Louise took her coffee. It was also intended to be encouraging, Jenna realised. They were all in for a long day.
One that didn’t start very well.
‘I’ll take Danielle out for her walk,’ Louise announced when Jenna brought her back downstairs.
Weather permitting, the walk was part of the routine on the days Louise visited—at least three times a week.
‘She likes to show her off,’ Shirley had confided to Jenna on Monday evening. ‘That’s why she likes to have her all dolled up in those clothes she keeps buying.’
Like the smocked dress and shiny shoes Jenna had dressed her in that morning.
‘I’ll bet that where she picked up her bug,’ Shirley had added in a mutter.
A bug she wasn’t completely over.
‘I’m not sure it’s a terribly good idea today,’ Jenna said to Louise. ‘She’s been running a temperature and was coughing in the night.’
‘She looks fine to me.’ Louise took Ella from Jenna’s arms. ‘And it’s a glorious day.’
Jenna couldn’t contradict either statement. Ella did look much better, even though very little of that breakfast had made it anywhere near being swallowed. And it was a gorgeous day. One of those autumn gems that was still enough to leave the warmth of the sunshine undiminished. If they stayed at home, she would have encouraged Danielle to spend time playing outside. Was there any real difference in being taken for a walk in her stroller?
She caught Maria’s gaze and the hint of alarm that Jenna, the expert, thought that her precious Ella might still be unwell. If Paul was here, Jenna thought, he would make the decision in an instant and nobody would dare argue. But if Jenna put her foot down, Louise would be very unlikely to comply. Maria would oppose her fiercely and Jenna might find herself caught in the middle of a small domestic war.
‘Maybe just for a little while,’ she heard herself suggesting. ‘It is a lovely day.’
‘I’ll take a complete change of clothes for her.’ Louise had already assumed victory. ‘And a warm jacket. Get them ready, would you, please, Jennifer?’
Jenna climbed the stairs, annoyed with herself. If she had been on the familiar territory of a paediatric ward and wearing a uniform, instead of faded denim jeans, there was no way she would have hesitated to wield authority of behalf of someone as vulnerable as a baby.
But she had no authority here. Or not enough. Louise would be a formidable adversary and quite apart from the stress a disagreement with Maria could cause, her discontent had seen the last nanny sent packing. Jenna couldn’t understand why Louise was accorded the power she seemed to have—it was a piece of the puzzle she had yet to find. And it was a power bestowed purely by default. Paul could remove it with a click of those long surgeon’s fingers any time he chose.
So why didn’t he?
Whatever the reason, if Jenna wanted to keep this job and succeed in the challenge she had set herself, she would have to choose any battles with care, and the evidence that Ella needed to be kept within the confines of her own home today was not strong enough. Even Paul had seemed happy enough that morning with the improvement in Ella’s condition.
The phone call at 11.30 a.m. to pass on the information that Louise had met a friend and would be lunching at a café was no surprise but it was a worry. The easterly breeze that had sprung up was cool enough to bring Maria in from tending her basil and tomato plants.
Jenna passed on the message, adding that she hoped Louise would not have Ella sitting outside.
‘Surely not!’ But Maria cast an anxious glance at the clock. ‘She will need to have her back in time for her sleep.’
‘There’s a man involved,’ Shirley warned. ‘You mark my words.’
Jenna had lunch in the kitchen with Maria and Shirley and Shirley’s husband, John, who helped in the garden. She couldn’t help casting frequent glances through the windows at scudding clouds that were now blocking the sunshine at regular intervals. By 1.30 p.m. the temperature had dropped significantly and there was still no sign of Ella’s return.
‘Maybe I should go and collect them in my car,’ Jenna said finally. ‘Even if they had lunch inside, it’s a good fifteen-minute walk home and I’m really not happy about Ella being outside. It looks like it could start raining at any minute.’
‘We could ring her cellphone,’ Shirley suggested, ‘and find out what café they’re in.’
But there was no need, because they heard the sound of the front door and a moment later Louise pushed the stroller into the kitchen. A stroller that contained a wailing baby.
‘She’s just a bit tired,’ Louise said defensively, as Maria rushed to pick up and comfort her grandaughter.
‘Dio mio! She’s cooking!’
‘It got cold. She needed her jacket on.’
‘Jenna?’ The plea from Maria was almost desperate but Jenna was already in action, her instincts sounding a loud alarm.
She took Ella from Maria, quickly removing her outer clothing, but it did little to cool her and she was too distressed to swallow the liquid paracetamol Shirley fetched under Jenna’s direction. What worried Jenna more, however, 58 was the rate and depth at which the child was breathing.
Trying to calm her down had to be the first priority. Jenna cradled Ella in her arms, letting the small head snuggle into her shoulder. She rocked her and made soothing sounds.
‘It’s OK, sweetie…Everything’s OK…’
Maria stood nearby, twisting her hands, her forehead creased with worry. Shirley stared at Louise between helping Jenna by fetching the medication and supplying a damp facecloth, but Louise was ignoring everybody. She helped herself to coffee and then sat down at the table.
Ella’s exhausted sobbing finally ebbed and it was then that Jenna could assess what she had instinctively feared. The baby was in quite severe respiratory distress. Tiny nostrils were flaring and the muscles around her ribs retracting with the effort to breath. It was taking longer for her to breathe out than in and Jenna could now hear a faint wheeze. And the rate was high. Far too high.
‘We need to take Ella to hospital,’ she announced.
Maria went pale and crossed herself. Louise lifted her head sharply.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! She’s just got a bit of a sniffle and she’s tired. I’m sorry we didn’t get back earlier but I met…Gerald, the man I had dinner with last week and he asked me to have lunch and…well, I could hardly refuse, could I?’
Shirley gave a soft I-told-you-so sort of snort but nobody bothered answering Louise.
‘Could someone bring a car around?’ Jenna asked. ‘I don’t want to put Ella down until I have to. Getting upset again is only going to aggravate the trouble she’s having with her breathing.’
‘She can’t breathe? Oh…’ Maria was hovering like a mother hen.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Louise demanded.
‘I think she may have bronchiolitis.’
‘But she seemed so much better this morning,’ Maria almost wailed. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘It often presents as a mild viral illness and the symptoms were well controlled with the paracetamol. If it had just been a cold, she wouldn’t have deteriorated like this.’
‘You should have known it was more than a cold. You’re a nurse, aren’t you?’ Louise was getting to her feet. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting this is my fault.’
‘What’s important right now is that we get Ella to hospital so she can be monitored properly and treated if this gets any worse.’
‘I’ll get the car,’ John offered.
‘I’m coming, too,’ Maria said firmly.
‘So am I,’ Louise snapped.
Maria paused with dramatic suddenness in her route to the door. She waved her arms in the air. ‘Wait! I must ring Paolo and let him know we’re coming.’
Jenna blinked. Of course Paul should know his daughter was about to turn up in the emergency department, but what would he think if he received an alarmed call from his mother—probably in voluble Italian? Keeping everybody calm was part of her job in order to prevent the atmosphere around Ella becoming overly tense.
‘Maybe Shirley could do that,’ she suggested. ‘That way we won’t be held up.’ She caught the housekeeper’s gaze. ‘Just let him know I’m a bit worried so we’re coming in to get Ella properly checked.’
‘Sure.’ Shirley nodded. ‘I guess they’ll let me leave a message if he’s busy in the operating theatre or something.’
This wasn’t the way Jenna would have wanted any of them to see more of Paul Romano. She should have been more careful what she wished for.
Both grandmothers had been asked to wait in the relatives’waiting area and Ella was sitting on Jenna’s knee in an emergency department cubicle. This was due solely to the fact that if anyone tried to remove her from Jenna’s arms she immediately began to cry. With her nanny, she was calm enough to allow oxygen tubing to be held in the vicinity of her face in an attempt to bring up the level of oxygen circulating in Ella’s blood.
‘What’s the saturation now?’
‘Ninety per cent.’ The paediatric registrar summoned to examine Ella flinched visibly at the unexpected, crisp query coming from behind his back. Paul had finally appeared, still dressed in his theatre scrubs and clearly impatient to find out what was going on.
Jenna was thankful she had her arms full of Ella and something she could at least pretend to be completely focussed on. She was also thankful for the conversation now going on between the consultant and the registrar, however, because it gave her a legitimate excuse to steal frequent glances at Paul.
She had never seen him looking like that.
She had never seen anyone looking like that.
The suggestion of weariness and, undoubtedly, anxiety for his daughter had given the surgeon an even more sombre professionalism. Or was it because they were now on his working turf?
Jenna was struck anew by this man’s apparent aloofness to his child. He was acting like any other doctor might in discussing a patient. Apart from his customary flick of Ella’s curls in greeting, Paul had made no attempt to comfort his sick daughter. No cuddles. No soothing words.
Was Jenna dreaming in thinking she could establish a loving connection if there was so little to build on?
The aloof, professional demeanour was at complete odds with his appearance. Too many hours under a theatre cap would have flattened those black curls. Had Paul run distracted fingers through his hair to make it look so tousled and unruly?
And the scrub suit was baggy. A deep V-neck revealed dark curls on his chest and his bare arms also had a covering of fine, very dark hair.
Jenna felt almost embarrassed. It felt like catching her employer on the way out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Much worse than a casual chat in the kitchen of his own home. Worse even than idle curiosity about what he might wear to bed. She could feel herself flushing, as though at any moment Paul would look over to see her thoughts in a bubble over her head.
How ridiculous! As if she hadn’t seen surgeons around hospitals or in wards, still wearing theatre clothing.
But she had never been involved in their private lives, had she? Jenna felt uncomfortable. Like she was stepping over a boundary of some kind. Only she didn’t know what the boundaries were.
‘You’ll have to admit her, then,’ Paul was saying.
‘Yes.’
‘Provisional diagnosis?’
‘Bronchiolitis. Probably RSV. We’ll try a viral nasal wash to identify the causative pathogen but it won’t make any difference to treatment at this stage.’
‘Which is?’
‘We’ll give oxygen to keep the sats above ninety-two per cent. IV or nasogastric fluids at seventy five per cent maintenance and we’ll keep a careful watch on her and transfer her to the paediatric ICU if she deteriorates.’
