Marrying the Runaway Bride

‘You hit one of the staff?’ Archie exclaimed.

‘Yes. It was the nurse who brought us in here and gave us a cup of tea. She was so kind to us, too…’

Archie sighed as Cheryl trailed off. ‘I’m not sure exactly what happened but any display of physical violence towards a member of the hospital’s staff will be taken very seriously. I suggest you apologise to the nurse concerned as soon as you get the chance.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Cheryl said hurriedly.

Archie left the room and went back to the ward. It was almost seven p.m. but there was little chance of him leaving just yet. Fortunately, everything seemed to have calmed down now the crisis was over. Most of the children were watching television or playing with the games’ stations he’d had installed for their use. It was open visiting during the day and there were still some parents around. Although he encouraged families to play an active part in their children’s recovery, he emphasised that they needed their rest so visiting ended at seven-thirty each evening. Of course, if a child was seriously ill then special arrangements were made.

He checked on Charlie and was pleased with the results of the latest ECG. He asked one of the nurses to fetch the boy’s parents in then went to the office. Marion Yates, the ward sister, was writing up the boy’s notes; she looked up and smiled at him.

‘That was a bit hairy.’

‘I didn’t think we were going to get him back at one point,’ Archie said bluntly, slumping down in a chair. He tipped back his head and groaned. ‘It’s hard to tell which bit of me is aching the most. Why do emergencies always come along in threes?’

‘They’re a bit like buses. You wait ages for one to arrive and then they all turn up together,’ Marion said, chuckling. She put down her pen and got up to switch on the kettle. ‘How about a cuppa? That might help.’

‘A long hot bath followed by a full body massage would be better,’ Archie grumbled, wiggling his aching shoulders.

‘Sorry, no can do. I mean, what would the staff think if they found you stretched out across the desk with me giving you a massage?’ Marion teased him. ‘The gossips would have a field day!’

‘At this precise moment I couldn’t care less what anyone thought,’ Archie retorted and then yawned widely. ‘I’ve been trying to pack after I finish work and it’s no joke, I can tell you. I don’t know where half the stuff has come from. Every cupboard and drawer seems to be filled to the brim.’

He yawned again as tiredness caught up with him. He’d been called into work before six that morning and it had been non-stop from then on. It would be after eight before he got home at this rate and he would have to set to work on sorting out the rest of his belongings otherwise he would never get everything done in time for the move. He closed his eyes as a cloud of gloom descended on him. Even though he’d set everything in motion, he still couldn’t believe that he was actually going to give up the job he adored, but he had to get used to the idea. Come the end of March, he would be leaving London and that would be the end of his career as a doctor.

Someone tapped on the office door just then and Archie’s eyes flew open. With his head still tipped over the back of the chair, the view of the newcomer was somewhat distorted. From this angle he was seeing her upside down, although he had to admit that starting at the bottom didn’t make the picture any less attractive.

A flurry ran through him as he took stock of long legs encased in black cotton trousers, slim hips, a neat waist and a shapely bosom beneath a crisp white uniform jacket. He was really enjoying himself by the time he reached her face and his pleasure didn’t dim one iota as he continued his appraisal—a full mouth, a straight little nose, a pair of hazel eyes framed by thick black lashes….

Archie reared up with all the finesse of a rusty spring uncoiling when he realised who she was. The woman gave him a tight little smile as he stood up and spun round, but he could see the strain on her face and knew she was worried that he was going to say something about how they had met. He took a deep breath and used it to damp down his racing pulse. In that second, he knew that neither thumbscrews nor boiling oil would make him reveal what had happened in Dalverston. Her secret was safe with him. He would never tell a soul.

Heather could feel the tension humming along her nerves and fought to control it. The only way she was going to get through the next few minutes was by staying calm. She fixed a smile to her mouth as she turned to the ward sister.

‘Mrs Jackson wants to know if Emily can go home tomorrow. I said that I’d check with you.’

‘I’d like to keep her in for at least another day.’

Heather’s gaze swivelled sideways when a male voice answered. In a fast sweep her eyes took in the rumpled dark brown hair, the tired green eyes, the firm but beard-shadowed jaw. He was taller than she remembered, his body looking lean and fit beneath the pale grey shirt he was wearing with a pair of darker grey trousers. He looked older and far more careworn than when she had seen him last and the thought bothered her. His kindness that day had been the one bright spot to come out of a very dark experience.

‘Sorry. I’d better introduce myself.’ He held out his hand, his green eyes looking straight into hers. ‘I’m Archie Carew, head of the paediatric unit. I take it that you’re one of the agency staff?’

‘I…um…that’s right,’ Heather murmured. She took his hand, feeling the jolt that ran through her as his fingers closed around hers. She wasn’t sure what was happening but all of a sudden she felt safer than she’d done for ages. There was something immensely comforting about the firm pressure of his palm against hers. She had the strangest feeling that if she held onto Archie Carew’s hand then nothing could ever hurt her.

She took a quick breath as she pulled her hand away. It was ridiculous to get carried away by such a fanciful notion. The only person she could rely on now was herself, not some man she barely knew.

‘Heather Thompson,’ she said crisply. ‘I just started working here tonight.’

‘Rather a baptism of fire,’ he replied easily. He glanced at the ward sister and raised his brows. ‘Apparently, Charlie’s mum hit Heather. I don’t know if she told you.’

‘No, she didn’t!’ Marion exclaimed. ‘You should have said something, Heather.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Heather said quickly, because the last thing she wanted was to make a fuss. ‘The poor woman was upset and I understand that’s why it happened.’

‘It’s good of you to take it that way, but I made it clear to Mrs Maguire that we view these matters extremely seriously,’ Archie said firmly. ‘I won’t have members of staff being assaulted for any reason.’

Heather shrugged. ‘I’m sure it won’t happen again.’ She swiftly changed the subject, loath to get into an argument. ‘What should I tell Mrs Jackson? She seems very anxious about taking Emily home.’

‘I’ll have a word with her,’ Archie offered immediately. He turned to Marion and grinned. ‘I’ll have to take a rain-check on that tea and the massage, I’m afraid.’

He laughed when the sister rolled her eyes. It was obviously an ‘in’ joke and Heather couldn’t help feeling excluded as he followed her out of the office. She sighed. Being out of the loop was something she would have to get used to now that she was doing agency work. Still, the up side was that she wouldn’t have to explain herself to anyone and that more than made up for it.

They went back to the ward and Archie headed straight for Emily’s bed. He seemed to have taken it for granted that Heather would go with him so she did. He smiled at Emily’s mother when she hurriedly stood up. Heather had noticed how nervous the woman appeared to be when she’d been speaking to her and she was pleased to see that Archie was making allowances for that.

‘I believe you were asking if Emily could go home tomorrow, Mrs Jackson,’ he said gently.

‘That’s right. Her…her father is very keen to have her back at home so I said I’d ask you,’ the woman whispered, nervously plucking at the cuff of her expensive cashmere sweater.

Heather frowned when she spotted a livid bruise on the woman’s wrist. It was obviously a recent injury and it must have been painful, although Mrs Jackson appeared unaware of it.

‘I can understand that,’ Archie replied soothingly. ‘However, I think it would be better if we kept Emily here for another day or so. Her kidney function is almost back to normal but I don’t want to take any chances of her relapsing. Another couple of days will make all the difference.’

‘If you say so, Doctor,’ the woman mumbled.

She quickly gathered up her belongings, said goodbye to Emily and left. Heather smiled at the little girl when she noticed her downcast expression.

‘Mummy will be back tomorrow to see you, sweetheart. In the meantime, would you like to watch some television or maybe read a book?’

Emily’s big dark eyes fastened hopefully on her face. ‘Will you read me a story?’ she whispered, sounding exactly like her mother.

‘Of course I will!’ Heather reached over to hug her, feeling alarm run through her when the child immediately cowered away. It was obvious the little girl had been expecting a blow and there could be only one explanation for it, too.

‘I’ll go and find you a book then come straight back,’ she assured her, glancing at Archie to see if he had noticed Emily’s reaction. It was clear from his expression that he had, and that he’d drawn the same conclusion as she had done. He followed her to the dayroom and she could feel the waves of anger emanating from him.

‘You noticed it too, didn’t you?’ she said quietly, crouching down in front of the bookcase.

‘The way she cringed when you went to touch her? Yes.’ His tone was grim. ‘I had my suspicions when Emily was admitted but there was no proof that she’d been injured deliberately. The father’s explanation could very easily have been true.’

‘What did he say had happened to her?’ Heather asked, pulling out a book about Paddington Bear, a particular favourite of hers when she’d been Emily’s age.

‘He said that Emily had fallen off her scooter in the park and had hurt herself when she’d banged into a tree. The mother backed him up.’

‘I read her notes and I know she had severe bruising to her right kidney when she was admitted.’

‘That’s right. She was in a bad way when she was brought in—passing blood and in tremendous pain. Although only her right kidney had been damaged, we decided to take the strain off her left one and put her on dialysis while it recovered.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s hard to believe that any parent could do that to their own child.’

‘Has she been brought into hospital before?’ Heather asked, standing up.

‘We don’t have any notes for her here, but I’ll have a word with the social workers and see if they can check if she’s been treated at another hospital. If we can find a history of so-called accidents, it would help to prove that she’s being abused.’ He sighed. ‘They’ll need to be quick, though. I can’t keep her in here for ever.’

‘I noticed that the mother has a really bad bruise on her wrist. It might be worth following that up to see if there’s ever been a complaint made about domestic violence by any of their neighbours.’

‘Good idea!’ he exclaimed and smiled at her. ‘I can tell you’re going to be an asset to this department. Any chance of you taking a job here on a permanent basis?’

‘I’m afraid not. I don’t intend to put down any roots until I’ve decided what I want to do with my life.’

‘Do I take it that you didn’t go ahead with the wedding?’ he said softly.

‘No. I called it off that night, after I’d spoken to you.’

His eyes darkened with sympathy. ‘It must have been very difficult for you.’

‘It was.’ She gave him a tight little smile, unwilling to go into detail when they were in such a public place. Thinking about the hurt she had caused everyone upset her and she didn’t want to risk breaking down. ‘I’d better go and read Emily her story before she thinks I’ve forgotten about it,’ she said, edging away.

‘Of course. But if you ever need to talk, I’m a good listener, Heather. Remember that, won’t you?’

‘I shall. Thank you.’

Another smile and she made her escape. However, as she went back to the little girl’s bed, Heather felt a new lightness in her spirit. For the past few weeks she had done nothing but berate herself for the mess she’d made of things and it was a relief not to feel guilty for a change.

She sighed because it would be stupid to get carried away by Archie’s kindness. She had every reason to feel guilty when she had let so many people down. It hadn’t been only Ross who’d been affected by her decision not to go ahead with the wedding, but both their families as well. Her father in particular had been terribly distressed. He seemed to believe that he was to blame in some way, but that wasn’t true.

Matthew Thompson had done everything he could to make sure that Heather had been safe and happy since her mother had died so tragically after suffering a stroke. Heather had been fifteen at the time and she had been devastated by her mother’s death. Her father had been, too, but he had focused all his energy on helping Heather come to terms with her loss.

It had brought them even closer so that Heather had had no hesitation about taking a job in Dalverston after she’d finished her nursing degree. Her father had supported her for all those years and she’d wanted to be there for him, too. Ross’s mother had been a partner at the general practice her father had run for a number of years, and when Ross had completed his GP training, he had joined the practice as well.

It had been inevitable that she and Ross would end up spending time together and eventually they had drifted into a relationship. Both sets of parents had approved and Heather had taken it as a sign that they were meant to be together. It had only been as the wedding had drawn nearer that she’d started having doubts and even then she hadn’t acted on them until it had been almost too late.

She had caused a lot of hurt and unhappiness for the people who loved her, and now she had to make up for it by learning to stand on her own two feet. Moving to London could turn out to be a mistake but it would be up to her to deal with it. No matter how kind Archie Carew had been to her, she wouldn’t turn to him again for help.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS almost nine p.m. by the time Archie finally made it home and he was exhausted. Working fifteen hours straight was no joke, especially when it had been after midnight before he’d gone to bed the previous night. He went straight to the kitchen and raided the fridge. All he could find was a lump of slightly mouldy cheese and a tomato but it would have to do. He definitely wasn’t heading out again to find himself something else to eat.

He made cheese on toast, slicing the tomato on the top so that he could ease his conscience by telling himself he was eating at least one of the requisite portions of fruit and veg he was supposed to consume each day. He ate in the kitchen because the dining-room table was piled up with cartons. He had been planning to do some more packing that night, but after he had finished his supper, he couldn’t face it.

He made himself a cup of instant coffee and retired to the sitting room, glad that at least he had something to sit on. He had packed away all the ornaments and pictures so the room looked very bare but at least he had a seat. Slumping down on the sofa, he sipped his coffee, grimacing at the powdery aftertaste it left on his tongue. Although he was quite an accomplished cook, he never bothered cooking nowadays. There was no one to share a meal with and that took all the pleasure out of it.

The thought immediately reminded him of Stephanie and he sighed. He tried not to think about her too often but it wasn’t easy. Before the accident his future had been all mapped out, and mapped out the way he had always dreamed it would be, too. He’d had a job he’d loved and a woman he’d wanted to spend his life with. He had been perfectly happy with his lot until his world had fallen apart.

Archie stood up, too restless to sit there while the thoughts ran like rats around his brain. Going over to the bureau, he opened a drawer and took out an old chocolate box. He had been meaning to sort through it for weeks but each time he’d put off doing it because it had been too painful. However, he was already upset so he may as well get it over with now.

He sat down and emptied the contents of the box onto the cushion beside him. There were dozens of photographs along with other mementoes of his life with Stephanie. He picked up a programme for the ballet, smiling ruefully as he recalled how angry Stephanie had been when he had fallen asleep during the performance. Next came a single ticket for the opera—he’d had to miss the show when he’d been called into work. Then there was an out-of-date train ticket for an aborted trip by Eurostar to Paris—Stephanie had gone by herself in the end as he’d been too busy.

Archie frowned as he continued to delve through the remnants of their life together. There’d been an awful lot of occasions when he had let Stephanie down. Work had always been his number one priority and everything else had come a poor second, including Stephanie. Was it any wonder, really, that she’d sought solace with someone else?

He picked up another photograph, feeling pain tug at his heart as he studied the smiling faces of the people in it. It had been taken a couple of years ago when he, Stephanie and his brother, Duncan, had spent some time together at the family estate in Scotland. Stephanie had stayed on when he’d had to return to London and he’d thought nothing of it at the time.

Now he couldn’t help wondering if that had been when his fiancée had fallen in love with his brother, after he had abandoned her for the umpteenth time. It was one more reason to feel guilty, another reason why he needed to make amends for what he had done. If he had paid more attention to what had been going on around him, Stephanie and Duncan might not have died.

It was gone four in the morning when Charlie Maguire suffered a second heart attack. Heather grabbed the crash trolley and raced to his bed. Marion had already started CPR and she looked up when Heather appeared.

‘Plug that in then phone the switchboard and ask them to page Mike. We need him back here, stat!’

‘Will do.’

Heather flew to the phone and dialled the switchboard. ‘It’s Heather from Paeds,’ she said as soon as the operator answered. ‘Can you page Dr Mike Bridges, please? We need him here urgently.’

She hung up after the operator confirmed her request. Some of the other children had woken up now, disturbed by all the commotion, so she made her way around the ward, doing her best to settle them down. Marion and the other nurse on duty that night, Abby Connor, were working on Charlie, but it was a relief when the registrar arrived. He headed straight to the boy’s bed, looking very grim when Marion explained what had happened.

‘We’ll shock him and see if that works. I’ll need some adrenaline—can someone sort that out for me, please?’

‘I’ll do it,’ Heather offered immediately.

Mike told her the dosage while Marion gave her the keys to the drugs trolley. When she got back, the team had defibrillated Charlie’s heart once and were about to perform the procedure a second time because there was still no output. Heather found herself willing the child to respond as the paddles were once again placed on his chest.

‘Clear!’ Mike rapped out.

Everyone held their breath as another charge of electricity shot through the boy’s body, but there was still nothing on the monitor apart from a flat green line. Mike turned to her and she could see the worry on his face as he took the drugs from her.

‘Get onto Archie. Tell him what’s happened and that it’s not looking good.’

‘Of course,’ Heather agreed, hiding her surprise because in her experience it wasn’t usual to phone a consultant during the night.

She hurried to the phone again and found Archie’s number listed with all the others. She keyed it in and waited anxiously for him to pick up. If anyone could help Charlie, it was Archie—he would know what to do in any crisis.

She bit her lip because she really shouldn’t be thinking along such lines. It would be only too easy to see Archie as her saviour as well and that wouldn’t do. She cleared her throat when a sleepy male voice mumbled hello.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Carew, but Mike Bridges asked me to phone you. Charlie Maguire has had a second myocardial infarction and we’re having problems stabilising him.’

‘How long ago did it happen?’ he demanded, instantly alert. Heather had a quick mental flash of him dragging himself up out of bed and just as quickly dismissed it. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked.

‘Roughly five minutes.’

‘Right. I’m on my way. Tell Dr Bridges to continue CPR until I get there.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Heather replied, responding automatically to the authority in his voice.

‘Thank you, Heather,’ he said quietly before the line went dead.

Heather’s hand was trembling as she gently replaced the receiver on its rest. Although she hadn’t introduced herself, Archie must have recognised her voice and it gave her a funny feeling inside to realise that. As she went to relay his message to the others, Heather found herself smiling before she realised how stupid she was being to set any store by it. Archie was only going to feature in her life for as long she worked here. He certainly wasn’t going to play any part in her future.

‘Is everyone agreed, then?’

Archie looked at the group assembled around Charlie Maguire’s bed and saw the same expressions on their faces that must have been on his own. Despite all their efforts, they’d been unable to resuscitate the boy and his death had upset them all.

‘Time of death 5:13,’ he said when they all nodded. ‘Thank you for everything you did. I’m only sorry it didn’t work out in the end.’

He pushed the curtain aside, feeling despondency weighing down on him as he made his way to the office. Losing a child was always a heartbreaking experience but it had become even more difficult since Duncan and Stephanie had died. It was hard to accept that so many lives should be cut short far too soon.

Heather was in the office; she looked up when he went in and he saw her expression change when he shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, her voice catching, and Archie had to swallow when he felt a lump come to his throat. He could tell that she’d truly meant what she’d said and that it hadn’t been just a polite expression of regret. It touched him deeply, far more deeply than it should have done, in fact.

‘We all are,’ he said shortly, because breaking down wasn’t an option. ‘Have the parents arrived yet?’

‘Yes. They’re in the relatives’ room.’ She was all business once more and Archie was suddenly sorry that he had been so short with her.

‘Right. I’ll have a word with them, then.’ He turned to the door, stopped, walked another step, then swung round. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you, but it always hits me hard whenever we lose a child.’

He gave her a tight smile, wondering why he felt that he had to explain himself. He wouldn’t have done so under normal circumstances, yet for some reason he didn’t want Heather to get the wrong idea. ‘I can’t afford to get too emotional when I need to speak to Charlie’s family.’

‘I understand.’ Her eyes filled with compassion as she looked at him. ‘I don’t think it’s possible to do this job unless you care, but it’s hard, isn’t it, when something like this happens? It makes you remember the people you have lost, too.’

‘It does,’ he said quietly, then left before he was tempted to say anything else. It seemed his suspicions had been correct. However, he knew that asking Heather whom she had lost would be a mistake at the moment. It would only lead to him telling her about Duncan and he didn’t think he could cope with that right now.