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Top-Notch Men!
Joel answered. ‘Well, apart from a head injury, which is why she’s unconscious at present, she has broken ribs, some bruising of a lung and bruising of her liver. She has a plastic drain in the chest to keep the lungs inflated. The liver injury seems stable, it probably won’t need any surgery. And she has bruising around both upper arms, maybe where someone grabbed her to pull her out of the car, and in the middle of her back, maybe from prolonged pressure on the spine board during the transfer. She’s deeply unconscious,’ Joel said. ‘It will be a few hours before we can get all the test results back.’
Mr Lowe’s eyes shifted again. ‘Is …?’ He cleared his throat and continued, ‘Is she expected to live?’
‘She’s in a serious condition but she’s stable. We’re giving her maximal supportive therapy. I think there’s a fair chance for recovery,’ Joel said.
Allegra stood to one side a few minutes later as Keith stood by his son’s bed. She could see the up-and-down movement of his throat as he swallowed the rising emotion, and her chest felt uncomfortably tight at what he must be going through. How many times had she seen scenes just like this? Too many to recall, but this had to be one of the most tragic. Car accidents were horrific enough, without a suicide or murder motive attached.
‘You can talk to him, Mr Lowe,’ she said. ‘Touch him and speak to him as much as you like.’
Keith Lowe kept his eyes trained on his little son. ‘But he can’t hear me, can he?’
‘He is unconscious but that doesn’t necessarily mean his brain won’t register the sound of a very familiar voice. Your touch, too, is part of that memory process.’
Keith reached out a hand and placed it tentatively on his son’s leg. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. Removing his hand from the boy’s leg, he moved away from the bed, his expression tortured as he faced Allegra. ‘I can’t do this … I need to get some … air … I’m sorry … I can’t cope with seeing him like this …’
‘It’s all right, Mr Lowe,’ Allegra said softly.
His eyes spouted tears as he ground out bitterly. ‘How can you possibly understand? That is my son lying there because that bitch behind that curtain put him there. If anyone deserves to die, it’s her, not him. He’s only seven years old, for God’s sake!’
‘Mr Lowe, I think it would be best if—’
‘Excuse me.’ Keith brushed past Allegra roughly and left the unit, ripping off the white protective surgical gown all visitors were required to wear in ICTU and tossing it roughly in the vague direction of the laundry bin.
‘Dr Tallis?’
Allegra let out a little sigh and turned to face Joel, who had been attending to another patient nearby. ‘Yes?’
‘I’d like a word with you if you’re free,’ he said, ‘in my office. No hurry. Just come when you get a spare moment.’
‘I’m free now.’
‘Good,’ he said, moving past to shoulder open the swing doors. ‘I’ll have some coffee sent up.’
Louise sent Allegra a musing glance once the doors had closed on Joel’s exit. ‘Coffee or an olive branch, I wonder?’
Allegra rolled her lips together for a moment, her eyes on the small child lying so lifeless on the bed, only the hiss and groan of the ventilator breaking the silence.
‘Allegra?’ Louise gave her a little prod. ‘Are you OK?’
She blinked and, giving her head a little shake, gave Louise a crooked smile. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. Did you say something?’
‘Nothing important,’ Louise answered. ‘But you’d better go and have that coffee with the director. You look like you need it.’
‘Yes …’ she said, and made her way out of ICTU to Joel’s office a few doors down the corridor, a tiny frown taking up residence on her forehead.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘COME in,’ Joel called at Allegra’s knock a short time later.
She came in and found him taking two cups of coffee off a tray, the fragrant aroma instantly teasing her nostrils.
‘Quite a day,’ he said, handing her a cup. ‘Do you take milk or sugar?’
She shook her head. ‘No, straight up is fine.’
Joel waited until she sat down before he took his chair behind his desk. His dark chocolate gaze connected with hers, the edge of his mouth tilted slightly. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve asked you to see me after what occurred between us last night.’
Allegra felt her colour rise but there was nothing she could do to stop it. ‘As you said during the course of that … er … unfortunate conversation, we were two tired, overworked people, having a drink.’
There was a surprising level of warmth in his gaze as it held hers. ‘Yes, that’s true, but I still thought I should apologise, for being so …’ He seemed to be hunting for a suitable word so she supplied it for him.
‘Overbearing?’
He gave a soft chuckle of laughter, the sound of it sending a river of tiny feathery sensations down Allegra’s spine. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his whole face softened, the tension and guardedness she was so used to seeing there now completely gone.
‘I’ve been described as a lot of things in the past but “overbearing” is a first,’ he said.
She arched one of her brows sceptically. ‘Really? I’m surprised.’
His smile faded a little and he put down his cup. ‘Look, Allegra, I know we haven’t had a great start to our working relationship but I wanted to apologise for my part in last night’s … er … unfortunate conversation, as you called it. I have no intention of speaking to Patrick Naylor about you. From what I’ve seen, you are a very competent anaesthetist with a high level of compassion for patients.’
‘Thank you …’
‘However, I did want to advise you about your handling of Keith Lowe.’
Allegra felt herself stiffen. ‘Oh?’
‘He’s still in shock over what’s happened. Also, I don’t think he’s the touchy-feely sort. A lot of men aren’t. I was watching from bed four. He seemed very stiff and uncomfortable at touching the child.’
She frowned at him. ‘So what are you saying?’
‘I think it would be wise to go slowly with him in regard to your coma recovery plan. Somehow Keith Lowe doesn’t strike me as a man who would be comfortable singing lullabies to his kid, no matter what the circumstances.’
‘I wasn’t thinking along the lines of lullabies, but I do think it’s important Mr Lowe speaks to his son at the very least.’
‘True. I agree. But the man’s trying to come to terms with the as yet unanswered question of whether or not his wife tried to do herself in and take the child with her. To make matters worse, Kate is one bed away. He’s edgy and very uncomfortable.’
‘You think we should move her—maybe to one of the isolation rooms?’
Joel drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. ‘It’s a thought … but, no, I think the transfer might be interpreted the wrong way. The father’s already agreed Tommy might benefit from having his mother nearby.’
‘Even though she tried to kill him?’
His eyes came back to hers. ‘We don’t know that. It could have been an accident.’
‘You mean, straight driving under the influence?’ she said. ‘Driving with point one alcohol in the blood is hardly responsible behaviour for anyone, let alone a mother with a small child in the car.’
‘Look, I know I brought up the suspicions in the first place, but it’s probably wise not to make any judgements until we have more facts.’
‘But Mr Lowe said she had a history of depression and he immediately assumed she’d been drinking, as if it was a regular occurrence.’
‘Lots of people suffer periods of depression without trying to take their own or other’s lives,’ he pointed out.
‘So why did you order a drug test? You must be more than a little suspicious.’
He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I just thought it best to make sure either way.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘The results should be in now.’
‘What do you think they’ll show?’
‘One would assume she’s been taking her antidepressant, so that will show up—but at what level? And any other drugs—sedatives, tranquillisers. Maybe she took a cocktail of things.’ He reached for the telephone and dialled the pathology department.
Allegra sipped her coffee and listened as he discussed the results with the lab.
‘That high, huh? Both of them?’ He raised his brows at Allegra. ‘Yeah, I guess so. Right, thanks for speeding it through. The police will want a copy. I’ll get them to contact you themselves—they may have their own questions.’
He put the phone down and sent Allegra a grave look. ‘Mrs Lowe was on a cocktail of three drugs. Paroxetine at five times the maximum therapeutic level, diazepam at a high level and traces of codeine.’
‘So she was really serious about doing it properly,’ she said, starting to chew at her bottom lip.
‘Looks more like it now.’
Allegra’s frown increased. ‘That’s three drugs. You said “both of them”. What exactly did you mean by that?’
‘I wasn’t referring to the number of drugs. I had the lab examine the boy’s blood as well. It now seems that he had detectable diazepam as well, but not as high as hers.’
‘What! She sedated the boy first?’ she gasped in shock.
‘That’s what it looks like. Hard to believe someone would do such a thing, but it’s not the first time a parent has taken things to such extremes.’
‘It’s just so awful to think that if that car hadn’t been behind them they would have died for sure …’ she said, staring down at her hands.
‘Maybe it was meant to happen this way.’
She looked up at that. ‘What? Don’t tell me the incredibly scientific Dr Joel Addison actually believes in something as metaphysical as destiny?’
He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a lengthy moment before asking, ‘What have you got planned for the rest of the evening?’
She gave him a startled look. ‘Planned?’
‘After you finish work,’ he said. ‘What have you got planned?’
‘Um … well, nothing really. I should do some washing, I guess. My machine broke down and my shifts have made it impossible for me to be there for the technician, but I can tell you the thought of sitting in a hot laundromat isn’t too appealing.’
His smile relaxed his features again. ‘So if I offered to take you out to dinner I might be in for a chance at you accepting, given the competition being so poor?’
Allegra felt her stomach do a funny little flip-flop. ‘You’re asking me to dinner?’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘I am.’
‘Don’t you get dinner invitations very often?’
She gave him a rueful look. ‘Only from recently separated men who do nothing but whinge about their soon-to-be-ex-wives the whole time.’
‘Well, I can assure I’m not married or separated or involved with anyone at present, much to my mother’s ongoing disappointment.’
‘You could always try internet dating,’ she suggested with a tiny wry smile.
‘I thought I might try this way first,’ he said, and pushing out his chair got to his feet. ‘That’s if the laundromat isn’t a better offer.’
Allegra stood up as well, wondering why her legs felt so wobbly and strange all of a sudden. ‘It’s close … but I suppose as long as you don’t offer me pizza and cheap red wine, you’re a marginally better prospect than the laundromat.’
‘Marginally, eh?’ He smiled as he held the door open for her. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight or is that too early?’
‘No, but I haven’t even given you my address.’
‘Good point.’ He reached for a pen and paper and she rattled off her street and apartment block number and watched as he wrote it down in a strong forceful script which she knew her mother would have a field day interpreting.
‘See you tonight, then,’ he said, pocketing the note.
‘Yes … Thanks for the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She felt the pull of his gaze for several long seconds before she dragged hers away to walk through the door and down the corridor on legs that still felt as if someone had taken out the bones, just leaving the marrow …
Allegra checked on Tommy Lowe before she left for the evening. The neurosurgeons were planning insertion of intracranial pressure monitors on both him and his mother that night in the ICTU theatre. Susie, the ICU nurse looking after Tommy, reported all his obs stable, and the same for Kate, who she was also temporarily attending whilst Chloe, Kate’s nurse, was out at tea.
‘Poor little chap,’ Susie said. ‘How could a mother do that to an innocent child?’
Allegra wrote up the notes and handed the nurse the chart. ‘It seems unbelievable, doesn’t it? Mind you, it’s still speculation so far, so better not to spread rumours we might regret later.’
‘I hate the thought of even going near her,’ Susie confessed. ‘I can’t wait for Chloe to come back from her break.’
‘We’ve got to treat Mrs Lowe like any other patient in ICTU, Susie—we’re health professionals, not judges,’ Allegra reminded her sternly.
‘I know, but what the poor father is being put through … he’s a complete wreck,’ Susie said. ‘And you could hardly blame him for being so angry.’
‘Has he been back in?’
‘Yes, just a few minutes ago. He didn’t stay long. I had to get him a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol almost as soon as he laid eyes on Tommy. I don’t think he can handle the sight of his little boy so badly injured. He probably blames himself for not seeing it coming.’
‘Yes, I guess you’re right,’ Allegra agreed with a heavy sigh. ‘Suicide always creates such a lot of guilt. You always wonder if you could have done something to prevent it.’
Susie gave her a thoughtful look. ‘That sounds to me like the voice of experience. Someone close to you?’
Allegra was privately impressed by the nurse’s percipience but didn’t know her well enough to share what had happened to her friend Julie during their first year at medical school. She’d only shared it with Louise because Louise’s brother had made a suicide attempt a couple of years previously after a relationship break-up. He had recovered, however, and was now in a happy relationship and had dealt with the issues that had led to his attempt on his life.
Allegra’s experience with her friend had been a harrowing time and she still had nightmares about it. She still tortured herself over all the signs she’d missed, all the opportunities she could have taken to prevent a tragedy that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life.
‘No …’ she answered, straightening the bed clothes over the child. ‘But you sort of get to know this stuff from working in a place like this.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ Susie said. ‘You see it all and then have to go home and sleep.’
‘Sleep …’ Allegra forced a wry smile to her lips. ‘Now, there’s something that’d be incredibly tempting.’
‘Not as tempting as coffee with the new boss,’ Susie said with a little twinkle.
Allegra frowned. ‘Don’t you nurses have anything better to do than gossip all the time? It was just coffee, all right? It doesn’t mean a thing.’
‘What about Patrick Naylor?’
‘What about him?’ she snapped back irritably.
‘He’s not going to be too happy about you fraternising with the director when he had first call.’
‘For pity’s sake, how often do I have to tell everyone that I am not involved with Patrick Naylor?’
‘I guess the only way to do that is by making it obvious you’re dating someone else,’ Susie suggested.
‘Yeah—well, maybe I will do just that,’ Allegra said, and giving the nurse one last little hardened glare turned on her heel and left.
CHAPTER SIX
JOEL adjusted his tie for the third time and rocked back on his heels as he waited for Allegra to answer her apartment intercom. It had been so long since he’d been on a proper date he’d almost forgotten how to go about it. Not that this was a proper date. Not really. It was dinner with a colleague.
A get-to-know-you-better dinner.
Nothing else.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Allegra, it’s me, Joel. Shall I wait for you down here?’
‘No, come on up. I’m not quite ready,’ she said a little breathlessly.
He made his way to the fifth floor via the lift but before he could raise his hand to knock on her door she opened it and ushered him in.
‘Sorry,’ she said, stooping to pick an earring off the floor and inserting it in her ear lobe. ‘I got held up in traffic. I won’t be a minute. Have a seat. Would you like a drink or something?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
She gave him a nervous little smile and disappeared into a room that he assumed was her bedroom. He heard a couple of stiff curses as she dropped something and he smiled to himself. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who was a little out of practice when it came to dating.
She came out a short time later dressed in a simple black dress with heels that, in spite of their lethal-looking height, still only brought her up to his shoulder. She was wearing subtle make-up, the smoky eye-shadow highlighting her green eyes and sooty dark lashes. Her lips were lightly coated with a pink-tinged gloss and her shoulder-length light brown hair was loose about her shoulders, falling in soft waves that made his fingers itch to reach out and see if it was really as silky as it looked. He had to stuff his hands in his trouser pockets to stop himself from giving in to the temptation.
‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said as she reached for her evening bag on the sofa, sending a soft waft of her light perfume his way. ‘I’m not usually so disorganised.’
‘It’s been a hectic day,’ he said. ‘I had to rush at the last minute as well.’
Allegra followed him out to his car. ‘Do you live close to the hospital?’ she asked, once they were on their way.
‘I’m just renting a place in South Yarra at the moment,’ he answered. ‘I’m still trying to work out what sort of place I want to buy.’
‘You mean an apartment or a house?’
‘Yes. Both have their advantages but with the hours I work it doesn’t make sense to rush in and buy a house with a big garden when I haven’t even got the time to sit in it, much less maintain it.’
‘That’s what gardeners are for,’ she said. ‘I’m even thinking about getting some help in to water my pot plants. I just don’t seem to have the time.’
He glanced across at her and smiled. ‘You could always get plastic ones.’
‘Now, that would really send my mother into a tailspin,’ she answered with a dancing gleam in her eyes. ‘Fake plants are not good for positive energy flow.’
He turned back to the traffic, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘You know something? I’m beginning to suspect you’re not quite as alternative as you make out, Allegra Tallis.’
‘And you’re not quite the overbearing ogre you want everyone to think you are, are you, Joel Addison?’
His warm brown eyes held hers for a moment before shifting away to concentrate on locating a parking spot. ‘I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.’
The restaurant he’d booked was in Toorak Road and after they were shown to their table and left with menus and the wine list, Allegra felt herself begin to relax a little. She sank into the comfortable chair and examined the menu.
Phew! Not a pizza in sight.
‘What’s that little smile for?’ Joel asked.
She met his gaze across the table. ‘I was just checking for pizzas.’
He handed her the wine list. ‘Maybe you should choose the red wine. I don’t want to be accused of picking a cheap one.’
‘You don’t strike me as the cheap red wine type,’ she said, handing it back to him.
He gave her a teasing look. ‘You can tell that from my aura?’
She pursed her mouth at him but ended up releasing it on a reluctant smile. ‘I hope you’re not trying to pick a fight with me, Dr Addison.’
‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘We’re just too overworked, tired people having dinner, OK?’
‘Now who’s reading auras?’ she asked. ‘And here I was, positive I’d managed to conceal the shadows underneath my eyes.’
‘I don’t know anything about auras but I can tell you work hard, harder than most.’
‘Now, I am really going to ask for a refund on that eye cream,’ she said with a rueful grimace.
He smiled at her but just then the waiter approached to take their drinks order and to advise them on the daily specials.
Allegra studied Joel covertly as he asked the waiter about the menu, the low, deep timbre of his voice and gentle respectful manner as he listened to the young man telling her more about him as a person than anything else she’d seen so far. She inwardly cringed as she recalled her date with Patrick, who’d practically abused the young inexperienced waitress for not bringing the garlic bread out on time.
After the waiter returned with their wine and took their order for meals, Joel sat back in his seat and surveyed her features in silence for a moment or two.
‘So what made you choose coma recovery as a project?’ he finally asked.
Allegra met his dark gaze guardedly. ‘Is this what this dinner is about—me having to justify my project to you all over again? If that’s the case, I might as well leave now and save the chef the hassle of cooking a meal I won’t be able to eat.’
‘No, I’m just interested in what motivated you to choose that particular study over any number of other topics you could have chosen instead. There are a lot of people who would feel it’s unlikely to produce anything of scientific significance.’
‘It’s pretty clear which camp you’d be in.’
‘Come on, Allegra,’ he reasoned. ‘Everything in our profession is data-driven now—if you can’t measure it, it probably doesn’t exist. Anecdotes and expert opinion are no longer good enough.’
She sent him a hardened glare. ‘Can we talk about something else?’
‘OK, but there are two deeply comatose patients in ICTU right now but I don’t want you to do anything that would draw unnecessary attention to the unit at this time.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked with rising anger. ‘What do you think I’m going to do? Cast a spell or something?’
‘I just want you to tread very carefully. I’m just concerned that if Mr Lowe’s son dies, you could be an easy target to blame.’
‘Me? What about his wife? She’s the one who drove the car!’
‘I know, but you know how people are when they’re under a lot of stress. The whole spectrum of emotion gets played out in ICU. The very best and worst of human behaviour comes out. In my opinion, Keith Lowe is a litigation time bomb waiting to go off.’
Allegra couldn’t help agreeing with him, although it pained her to admit it. ‘He does seem the type, I guess,’ she said, lowering her gaze a fraction.
‘I’m not trying to sabotage your project, Allegra, nothing like that. If anything, I would actually be delighted if you were able to deliver some measurable and repeatable results. But is this the right time to do it, the right case to start with?’
She raised her eyes back to his. ‘Are you expressly forbidding me to do anything or just asking me to be discreet?’
He held her gaze for a lengthy period. ‘I said I’d give you a month and I’ll stick by that. But if you’re going to use this case, I want you to keep a low profile. Things are much more tense than usual because of the question mark hanging over Kate Lowe. One press leak and public emotion will be running high. The notion of a mother trying to kill her own child in her own suicide attempt is bizarre—the press would play it from every angle for all it’s worth, every day either of them survives. And if, on top of that, they got wind that they were being used in a research project, especially using not-strictly-medical methods, they’d have a field day—none of us might survive it.’
‘I understand,’ she said. ‘But I’d still like to try with the little boy. I’ll ask the father for his permission, of course.’
He held her direct look for a moment. ‘Fine, but all I’m saying is that emotion runs high when children are involved. Just keep that in mind.’