Cinderella And The Surgeon / Miracle Baby For The Midwife

As she pushed open the door, the manager of the A&E department was heading towards her. Shirley had her hands full, so Esther held the door for her.

She gave her a grin. ‘Lifesaver, thanks.’

‘No probs.’

Something flitted across Shirley’s face. ‘Hey, don’t suppose you could cover a shift on Thursday?’

Esther glanced at the pill bottle she’d just pushed into the pocket of her uniform. Thursday. Three days away. It was her next scheduled day off and she was bound to be feeling better by then. ‘Sure.’ She nodded.

‘Great,’ Shirley shouted over her shoulder as she continued to speed down the corridor.

Harry was doing his absolute best not to try and cause trouble. Only because Francesca had torn a few strips off him.

‘You were way out of line yesterday,’ she said quietly as they met the next morning.

‘How was I out of line? I don’t want some flaky member of staff caring for my baby.’

‘Your baby?’ Francesca raised her eyebrows.

He sighed. ‘You know what I mean. If I operate on them, they’re all my babies.’

‘Don’t try the mushy stuff with me. You’re being harsh. So, she spilt coffee and didn’t have time to change. Who hasn’t? Half the times I was called to a cardiac arrest, I went with half my lunch down me.’

‘Did you sleep in the hospital canteen too?’

Francesca shrugged. ‘Sometimes. If I’d been up all night on call, I might grab five minutes when I had to. Can you really say that you’ve never done that?’

He took in a deep breath and gave a conciliatory shrug too. ‘Okay, I might have.’

Francesca gave him a hard stare. ‘I’m just saying. This is the first time you’ve operated here. I’d try not to get on the wrong side of everyone you might come across if you’re going to be a visiting surgeon.’

‘Now who’s being harsh?’

Francesca started pulling up some results on a nearby computer. ‘Anyway. I would tread carefully. I’ve heard she’s got a nickname.’

‘A nickname?’

Francesca nodded and smiled. ‘Yep. Crabbie Rabbie.’

‘What?’ Harry frowned.

‘Something to do with Scotland’s national bard?’

‘I know who Rabbie Burns is.’

‘Well, apparently she got the nickname just after she arrived. Something to do with her strong accent and the fact she takes no prisoners with people she thinks are annoying.’

‘Are you trying to tell me something?’

‘Just that I think you’ve clearly just put yourself into the annoying category.’

He shook his head. ‘Oh, thanks for that.’ The door to the NICU opened and the day staff filed in, Esther among them.

Her dark hair was swept up in an elaborate plait. She still looked tired but maybe she’d put a little more make-up on, because there was more colour in her cheeks than there had been yesterday. She was wearing a different colour of scrubs today. Bright pink. He’d noticed the staff in the NICU wore different colours—sometimes even with child-friendly designs. The brighter colour made her not look quite so washed out.

It was odd. On any other day—with any other member of staff—he might actually have admitted that he thought she was quite attractive. But he didn’t have time for that. Harry didn’t usually date anyone from work. Too many complications. And he and Esther hadn’t exactly got off to a good start.

He wanted to ask if she was fit to work. He wanted to ask if she still had a temperature. He knew he wasn’t entitled to. Staff in NICUs were extremely familiar with the dangers of exposing babies to potential infections. He shouldn’t second-guess anyone.

Francesca tapped his arm. ‘Okay, I’m off to see another baby.’ She shot him another look. ‘Now, behave. Play nicely.’

He shook his head as she walked out the door.

Esther had raged last night as she’d tried to get to sleep. It was ridiculous. All day all she’d wanted to do was sleep, but actually put her in comfy pyjamas and give her her own bed and she lay there blinking and plotting horrible futures for that annoying surgeon. The man had even stolen her sleep from her.

She ignored the fact it was noisy outside, the pipes creaked, the radiators hissed and upstairs seemed to be having a party again. Her back might have ached a little too, and she’d needed to pee on numerous occasions. It was funny how when you finally got a diagnosis your body practically slapped you on the face with it. But no, it was none of those things that prevented her from sleeping; it was definitely smug Harry Beaumont with his entourage and unflattering words.

She burned from a few of the things he’d said to her. But most of all was his threat to ask for another midwife to be assigned to Billy. She was pretty sure that the charge nurse for the unit would give him short shrift. Oona was from Northern Ireland, and was much more like Esther in temperament than she cared to admit. She wouldn’t take kindly to some visiting surgeon dictating what happened in her NICU.

But as Esther walked through the door of NICU she could see Harry sitting at the nurses’ station. It was 6:50 in the morning and clearly her worst day in the world was just about to start.

It didn’t help that he was looking like Dr Delicious in his pale blue shirt that was a little damp around the collar. He’d obviously just showered and was currently charming the few staff around him; they were laughing and joking.

She braced herself, waiting for someone to tell her she couldn’t look after the little boy she’d spent the last few days tending to. Her eyes hesitantly went to the board. Esther McDonald was written next to Billy Rudd and Akshita Patel. She let out a sigh of relief and went straight over to hear the report.

Somehow she just knew that every single step of the way Harry’s eyes were watching. What was he waiting for?

She pointedly ignored him. Billy’s surgery had apparently gone well, which was a relief. She hurried over to his crib to get a look at him for herself, making sure she gave Jill a hug first.

His colour was different—straight away. Some people might not have found it obvious, but Esther was an experienced NICU member of staff and had always noticed the slight dusky tinge to Billy’s skin. Today, it was gone. His skin still had the translucence of a premature baby, but the colour had definitely improved.

She breathed and caught a scent. She tensed. She recognised it from yesterday, some kind of woody undertones. Harry. She was determined not to turn around.

Jill had got up and gone into the small kitchen in NICU to make herself a cup of tea.

‘Things went well?’ she asked Harry in an even tone. They might have got off to a bad start but there was no point in being uncivil.

‘Yes, and no,’ he said in a low voice.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, things took a little longer than expected. We ran into some problems. The surgery ended up taking about eight hours.’

Esther turned to face him in shock. She knew how long the surgery should have taken. ‘But…’

He shook his head. ‘It’s all under control. The surgery was successful. Billy will need regular reviews and be carefully monitored for the next few days, but—’ he paused and gave a slow nod of his head before his dark eyes met hers ‘—the next few days will be the most crucial.’

Her skin prickled. He wasn’t saying anything out loud. But it felt like he was accusing her of something.

‘Experience with these babies tells me that if something is going to go wrong, it generally happens in the first forty-eight hours after surgery.’

The time when she was part of the team watching Billy.

She tilted her chin, part of her felt defiant, and part of her felt distinctly annoyed by his unsaid implication.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. She knew when surgery had started yesterday. If it had taken eight hours, it couldn’t have finished until well after midnight. Harry had already been here when she’d come in for her shift. She knew she hadn’t slept last night, but had he?

‘Are you staying close by? You’ve had a quick turnaround.’

She wasn’t even sure where the observation came from, and the instant it came out her mouth she wasn’t entirely comfortable with how it sounded.

But Harry didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’m only a few miles away in Belgravia, but I stayed here last night to keep an eye on Billy.’

‘Oh.’ She nodded. Belgravia. Of course. He was supposed to be some kind of royalty, wasn’t he? Of course that’s where he’d stay. Not like herself, who had to travel nearly an hour each day to get to work.

He pulled something from his pocket, then cleared his throat. ‘I left a note for the NICU nurse last night about all the things I wanted monitored in Billy.’

She glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. ‘I do know how to do postoperative care, Harry. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.’ There was no way she was touching that list. Her eyes quickly ran down it. It was what they would do for every baby postsurgery, with the exception of one test that could easily be ordered with the rest of the blood work.

She pressed her lips together and tried not to snap. Everything about this guy just seemed to annoy her. Even the way his aftershave seemed to linger in the air between them. ‘I guess when you move around a lot you don’t know what’s normal in each NICU. But you don’t need to worry about the Queen Victoria. We have a reputation of excellence because we’ve earned it.’

Was that too pointed? She didn’t think so. It seemed more factual to her.

He wasn’t wearing a typical doctor white coat and her eyes were drawn to the muscles beneath the pale blue shirt he wore. The shirt was clearly tailored, defining all the parts of him it should. It had short sleeves—just like all doctors were supposed to wear in clinical areas, but the short sleeves drew her attention to his biceps. Some place she definitely didn’t need to look.

‘Point taken,’ said Harry frostily. ‘But I’d still like my post-op instructions followed. I don’t think that’s unreasonable.’

He was still holding the piece of paper towards her. It was like a standoff. She didn’t want to take it. She didn’t. But Jill came out of the kitchen and started walking towards them. The last thing she needed was for Billy’s mum to think there was any kind of issue between the staff looking after her child. Esther reached out and grabbed the paper, stuffing it in her pocket.

‘Fine.’

One of his eyebrows quirked upwards. ‘Fine,’ he agreed before turning and walking away.

She moved quickly, doing her routine checks on Billy, followed by routine checks on the little girl she was taking care of too.

She’d hoped that Harry would take the cue to leave the NICU. Surely he must be tired? Or at the very least have other work to do. But apparently not. He settled in and made himself comfortable in a corner of the NICU, opening up a laptop and sitting next to one of the phones.

The phone calls were brisk. He seemed to consult on a whole host of cases, some in the UK, and some in Europe.

Not that she was listening to what he was doing. Of course not. She just kept hoping that one of those calls would give him an incentive to actually leave the NICU.

Every time she turned around she felt as if she could feel his eyes on her. At first she told herself it was her imagination. But on the few occasions she looked up, they definitely locked gazes, making heat rush into her cheeks.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she logged in to one of the patient monitoring systems to update her nursing notes on Billy.

There was a little pink flash in the bottom right-hand corner. Someone else was in these notes. That wasn’t too unusual. The lab could be uploading results. Or someone else could be viewing x-rays or ultrasounds. But then the little flash turned blue, and Esther’s temperature turned red.

Now, someone was looking at the nursing notes. Her nursing notes. The ones she hadn’t even written yet. And all of sudden she didn’t have a single doubt who it was.

This guy was checking up on her, and that made her mad. She couldn’t even remember being supervised this much as a student nurse. When she’d come to the Queen Victoria to do her additional midwifery training it had only taken a few shifts for the staff she worked with to realise she was already trained as a nurse and was clearly competent. Of course, labour and deliveries were supervised. But when she was giving out regular medicines and writing up notes, the staff didn’t need to double-check as she already had a professional registration. So this definitely felt like being under the microscope. And she didn’t like it—not one bit.

The temptation to write Get Lost in the electronic system was overwhelming. It would appear to him in live time. Unfortunately this system was designed to keep a permanent log of everything recorded. So, if she typed it once—even if she deleted it a few seconds later—it could always be pulled up on a previous search.

It was designed to stop users changing records at a later date, but had actually proved a fail-safe for one midwife who’d accidentally recorded notes in the wrong patient record, deleted them, then had to deal with an emergency. The timing had meant she’d totally forgotten to go back and add the notes into the correct patient record. When questions had been asked later, the system could prove the record had been made, just not in the right place.

The midwife still got into trouble, just not as much as she could have.

Esther ignored Harry. She had to. Instead, she quickly typed Billy’s latest observations and results, along with a few thoughts of her own. Then she flipped into the records for Jill and made a few notes too. Jill was also still under observation and Esther had a few concerns.

An hour later, Harry was back by her side. He didn’t speak, but his shoes came into her line of vision. Italian handmade leather shoes. Something she’d only ever seen on movie stars before. Even his shoes annoyed her.

Was she maybe being irrational?

She waited until he’d sounded Billy’s chest again. ‘Why were you checking my notes?’

His hands flinched. ‘I wasn’t specifically checking your notes, Esther.’

‘You were. I can tell when someone is looking at the page I’m on.’

He gave her a sideways glance. ‘I was reviewing all of Billy’s records. From his delivery, to his first films, his consecutive test results and all of his medical and nursing notes. I like to be cautious. I like to take a big-picture look at my patients.’ He turned to face her. He gave her a reluctant kind of look. ‘I often think that the observations of the midwives or nurses that care for the patients are the most important. They might notice things that other people miss.’ He paused and ran one hand through his thick rumpled hair. There was something about that motion. The look on his face as he did it that made her breath catch somewhere at the back of her throat. Sorrow. Pain. Regret.

‘I’ve found over the years when we’ve had to do significant adverse event reviews, or even child death reviews, that often in case notes we can pick up tiny comments that might not seem like much to begin with, but when you stop—’ he held up his hands and swept them around ‘—and look at the whole picture, they all prove to be part of the jigsaw puzzle. The one that we often don’t put together until it’s far too late.’ He bit his bottom lip… There was something about this; she could tell he was keeping his emotions in check, and it made her stop feeling quite so angry at him. He took a deep breath. ‘So, I’ve learned to pay attention. To read all the notes—by everybody involved—and keep everything in mind.’ His toffee eyes locked on hers. ‘Because what’s the point in doing all these reviews if we don’t actually learn anything from them?’

Her mouth had gone dry. There was so much more to this story. Yes, she felt under the spotlight by him. Yes, she felt as if his words yesterday had been unjustified. But now he was telling her exactly why he was being meticulous, and her previously irritated brain could absolutely understand it.

He worked around a variety of hospitals. It was doubtful that he could remember anyone’s name. Everyone knew that some hospital units were better run than others. Esther could write a list right now of places she would never apply for a permanent position. Was it any wonder he didn’t think twice about handing over written instructions postsurgery for a patient?

Maybe she was letting her annoyance with him yesterday colour her judgement.

He was still standing there. Just a few steps away from her. She could see the rise and fall of his chest under his tailored shirt. The shirt that probably cost more than any outfit in her closet at home.

It was hard not to see the differences between them both. His cut-glass accent both annoyed and intrigued her. What was it really like to be a member of the upper classes? She was pretty sure she’d never met anyone before who would fall into that category. Had Harry been guaranteed a place at one of the best medical schools as part of his birthright? Or was all that outdated nonsense? She really had no clue.

What she was sure about was that he hadn’t had to juggle school work with two part-time jobs at school, and study into the late hours to make the grades he needed. Esther wasn’t some natural genius. She’d worked hard to get what she needed to get into university in Scotland. Doing the conversion course to midwifery in London had only been possible because of a grant from a Scottish millionaire who stayed in her area and invited Scots people to apply. Scotland was one of the few places on the planet where university tuition was free for their kids. But if a Scots kid wanted to do a course that was only offered in England? Then, like everyone else, they had to pay. She’d only been able to get to the Queen Victoria through getting the grant to fund her fees. It had also covered her rent during her training, so she was much luckier than most. But somehow she knew that Harry Beaumont had never had to worry about tuition fees or accommodation in his life.

Her mind drifted. Wondering if he’d ever been to Buckingham Palace or knew anyone there. Maybe he’d been best friends with one of the younger princes? He’d be around the same age.

Esther’s eyes fixated on his arms again. The muscles made her wonder if he was a rower. That would be it. He’d probably been part of either Oxford or Cambridge’s row teams.

There was a soft cough to her left and she jerked, turning to see Jill watching her with a strange expression on her face.

‘Everything okay?’

Jill looked between them both. ‘That’s just what I was about to ask you. You both seem to have been here awhile. Is there something wrong with Billy?’

Harry automatically stepped backwards. ‘No, no, everything is fine. I’m very pleased with Billy’s progress.’

He seemed to rethink his words. ‘Of course, we’re still going to keep monitoring him closely for the next few days. But, so far, he’s making a good recovery.’

Esther felt a tiny flash of something. The way he’d retreated from his initial words. It was almost like he didn’t want to seem too confident that Billy was out of the woods. Not to give Jill too many reassurances that could lead her to think that nothing else could go wrong.

She wondered if Jill had even noticed. But it didn’t really matter because Esther had. She put her hands on her hips and gave a little stretch backwards. It was odd. She was still having to take paracetamol for her temperature and she had still had that odd heavy feeling. Usually by this point the antibiotics would have started to kick in, and the tiredness at least would have begun to lift.

But not yet.

Her appetite hadn’t quite returned either. Yesterday she’d ate that scone, and then hadn’t eaten until later at night—and that had just been a bowl of soup. This morning she hadn’t even eaten breakfast, just made do with a caramel latte. That had been on the way into work, and funny thing was, she still wasn’t hungry.

She gave Jill a smile. ‘How you doing? I’ll be going to the canteen later for some food. Want to come with me?’

It didn’t matter whether she was hungry or not. Some of the other staff had noted that Jill hadn’t been eating much. Hospital meals were always supplied for parents in the NICU, but Jill hadn’t been touching hers. She did occasionally leave the NICU and say she was going to buy something—usually from a vending machine—but Esther wasn’t convinced. Maybe it was time to try another tack.

Jill shot a glance at the crib. ‘But if you’re with me, who will watch Billy?’ There was genuine apprehension in her voice.

‘I will,’ came the deep reply without hesitation. ‘I intend to be around most of the day, so let me know when you both want to go, and I’ll make myself a coffee, and take up post in the most comfortable chair in the place.’

He pointed to the reclining chair that Jill had next to Billy’s crib and she let out a laugh. Not all of the chairs in the unit could tip back the way Jill’s did and she was the envy of some of the other parents. ‘You promise you won’t leave him?’ She looked over at Esther, then turned back to Harry. ‘I know all the staff are good, but I trust Esther the most. I only ever leave Billy for more than a few minutes if she’s here.’

He held up his hands, laughing. ‘So what am I? The sloppy second?’

Colour rushed into Jill’s cheeks but Esther quickly took a step towards Harry and nudged him. ‘That’s what I like. A surgeon that knows his place.’ She couldn’t hide the glint in her eye.

They’d definitely started off on the wrong foot together, but she was beginning to understand him just a little more. He might not be quite as arrogant as she’d first thought. As if right on cue her stomach gave a grumble.

‘Oh,’ said Jill. ‘Shall we go now? Let me grab my bag.’

Esther put her hands to her stomach and let out an embarrassed laugh. ‘Oops.’

‘Better make my coffee, then,’ said Harry quickly as he ducked into the NICU kitchen.

Esther went to check with one of her other colleagues that it was fine to leave. ‘Harry’s apparently watching Billy,’ she told her.

Danielle raised her eyebrows. ‘The surgeon? How on earth did you manage that one?’

‘I didn’t,’ she said, feeling a little uncomfortable. It was unusual. She couldn’t remember a surgeon ever offering to keep watch on a baby. Not to cover a break at least. ‘He offered.’ She paused for a second, then added, ‘I think he’s concerned about mum. I offered to take Jill down to the canteen but she was reluctant to go and leave Billy.’

‘Ah. That makes sense. Try and get her a bit of fresh air too. She needs it.’ It was almost like Danielle had instantly forgotten the first part of the conversation. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out some coins. ‘Here, get me something sweet. This diet I’ve been on is killing me. I need a chocolate fix.’

Esther smiled and nodded. ‘No probs. See you soon.’

She checked back at the crib. Harry had settled into the seat and had pulled the flap down on the crib and was talking in a quiet voice to Billy. As she walked over he pretended not to notice. ‘Watch out, Billy. Here comes Crabbie Rabbie. We’ve got to behave around her or we’ll both get into trouble.’

Esther’s mouth hung open. ‘Who on earth told you that?’ She’d always known her nickname. Her colleagues frequently used it with affection, but she hadn’t expected some visiting surgeon to come out with it. People had clearly been talking.

‘What?’ Now it was his turn to have the glint in his eyes. He glanced over each shoulder as if someone was standing behind him. ‘Did I say something?’

She leaned at the edge of the crib and looked down at Billy. ‘Billy, don’t you listen to these bad influences. You know who the favourite is.’