The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Bride (3 page)

‘And if it isn’t brought back under control properly they could end up with silent chest—in which case they’ll be downstairs with my lot,’ Marina said. With asthma, the child’s airways were inflamed, and responded rapidly and strongly to stimuli, so the child wheezed and coughed; the airways narrowed so much that the child couldn’t breathe out properly. The child might then panic and the situation could spiral. If it got really out of control, the wheezing could stop, which was far more dangerous. ‘Silent chest’, as it was known, meant that the asthmatic patient wasn’t moving enough air through their lungs to even create a wheeze—and that was life-threatening.

‘And then, once you’ve stabilised them, back up with me for admission and overnight observation…’ Rhys began.

‘Because if there’s a history of severe attacks there’s a very good chance that a child who’s had an attack during the day will have another one at night,’ Marina finished.

‘Exactly,’ Rhys said. ‘So part of today is going to be about prevention—talking to the parents about using their inhalers properly, how to use them and when. And it’s worth making the point that the steroids we give aren’t the same as body-building steroids—these are the ones that are produced naturally in the body.’

Marina nodded. ‘And we’ll make a note for the GP and health visitor.’

Rhys smiled. ‘Working with you is almost like working with Katrina—she’s spot on about kids, too. You know, I’m looking for someone to cover her maternity leave properly. Working up here for a while would be really good for your career development.’

Marina shook her head. ‘Ellen agreed to let me work
here for a day a week. I’m not sure she’d go for a year’s secondment.’

‘I can talk to her, if you like? Think about it,’ Rhys said. ‘The offer’s open for a couple of weeks.’

‘Thanks.’ It was good to know that she had a potential bolthole. Working with Max and dealing with all the memories would’ve been tough at the best of times but, coming on top of her worries about Rosie and the baby, it just ratcheted up the tension.

At least here in the CAU she could relax.

And she could try not to think of Max.

O
N
T
HURSDAY
morning, Max was walking into the department when he heard Kelly on Reception say, ‘Hey, Marina! How’s Phoebe doing?’

‘She’s on the mend. It’s just a tummy bug.’ Marina smiled. ‘That’s the worst thing about being a medic—you know the worst-case scenarios, and instead of seeing a simple tummy bug you imagine it’s the winter vomiting virus and all the complications that go with it.’

Max knew exactly what she meant, though sometimes medics went the other way, going into complete denial when faced with the evidence—just as they had done four years ago. They’d managed to convince themselves that Marina wasn’t having a miscarriage, that the baby they hadn’t planned but had both wanted so much would be just fine…And when they’d finally had to face the truth it had hurt even more.

‘Though Rosie’s pretty upset that she’s not getting her usual visitor on the ward this morning. I rang her at breakfast, so Phoebe could say hello down the phone, but it’s not the same as being able to cuddle her.’

Max knew he really shouldn’t be listening in—it was nothing to do with him any more—but he’d always liked
Marina’s elder sister. Unless Rosie had changed career and become a medic like Marina, it sounded as if something was wrong. Why would Rosie be in hospital? And why was Marina taking her daughter to visit her sick aunt every single day?

‘How’s Rosie doing this morning?’ Kelly asked.

‘She’s fine. Missing Phoebe and Neil like crazy, of course, but everyone knows she won’t stick to bed rest at home.’ Marina spread her hands. ‘I mean, you can’t if you have a toddler as lively as Phoebe.’ She laughed. ‘Mum’s always telling Phoebe that she’s exactly like her Aunty Rina was at the same age—covered in glitter and paint half the time, and pedalling round on her tricycle the other half.’

Everything suddenly fell into place for Max, and for one crazy moment he found himself on the point of whooping with delight and doing a happy dance all round the department.

The toddler Marina had been carrying—the one she’d gone to pick up from the nursery—was her
niece
, not her daughter.

As Rosie had the same colouring as Marina, and similar features, of course there’d be a strong physical resemblance between aunt and niece. And that in turn meant that the man Marina had kissed in the corridor had been her brother-in-law, not her partner. The Petrelli family had always been warm and tactile, and Max had kissed Marina’s sister, mother, aunts and grandmother exactly the same way himself before their marriage had fallen apart.

How
stupid
he’d been.

Then again, Max had never been able to think straight around Marina. Not from the moment he’d met her as a wet-behind-the-ears junior doctor who made very sure she
pulled her weight on the team and did her best to reassure her patients. They’d gone for a coffee after that first shift, and had dated every night after that. The more time he’d spent with her, the more deeply he’d fallen in love with her.

Small wonder that they’d gone to bed together within a week and had moved in together within a month. They hadn’t wanted to spend a single moment apart.

Yet they’d spent the past four years as far apart as they could be: Marina in London, and he moving from disaster zone to disaster zone, pushing himself to the limit so he wouldn’t have to think about how much he’d lost.

He closed his eyes briefly. Now wasn’t the time or the place. He and Marina were going to have to talk about it, but not now, and definitely not here. Right now, he had a job to do. And so did she.

Marina was rostered on the children’s section of the emergency department that morning; that was good, because it meant she didn’t have to see Max. Not unless there was a really difficult case where she needed a second opinion. But she was in luck: her first case was a toddler who’d stuffed a plastic bead up her nose, her second was a child with a cough that she suspected was asthmatic, and her third was one who’d fallen in the playground and gashed his arm deeply enough to need stitches and a lot of reassurance. All things that needed a bit of time, reassurance and TLC as well as medical treatment, and she knew she was perfectly capable of dealing with all of them on her own.

Everything was fine until she took her break. The second that she made herself a mug of coffee in the kitchen, Max walked in, as if he had some weird kind of radar that told him exactly when she’d be there.

‘How’s Phoebe?’ he asked.

‘Doing OK, thanks. Mum’s looking after her today again.’

He made himself a coffee, then took a bar of chocolate from the pocket of his white coat, snapped it in half and handed half to her.

She accepted it without thinking, the way she always had when they’d worked together. ‘Thanks.’ Then she stared at the chocolate, suddenly realising what they’d both done.

Just like old times.

Except they’d both come a long way in the last four years.

‘I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning,’ he said with the quirky smile that had once made her knees melt.

She remembered those days. Even though their flat had been a ten-minute walk from the hospital, they’d never had time for breakfast. Because they’d been too busy making love.

She took a gulp of coffee and willed the memories to stay back.

‘So what’s wrong with Rosie?’ he asked. ‘I overheard Kelly asking you how she was.’

‘Pre-eclampsia,’ Marina explained. ‘They’ve kept her in so she’ll get some rest and they can monitor how the baby’s doing.’

‘Is it OK if I go and see her?’ he asked.

She frowned. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

He sighed. ‘Look, I know things didn’t work out between us, but I liked your family.’

And they’d liked him. A lot.

Pity that the same couldn’t be said of the way Max’s family had felt about her. Kay Fenton had seen Marina as a rival for her son’s affections, and Andrew Fenton had usually been away on business trips. Marina had found
them distant and cold, the complete opposite of her own family. And when everything had gone wrong, and Marina had been at her most vulnerable, the Fentons had made it very clear that they weren’t going to offer her a shoulder to cry on. Andrew, as usual, had been absent, and Kay had actually said that it was for the best—that it was the wrong time for Max to have a baby when he had his career to think about.

How could anyone possibly say that a miscarriage was ‘for the best’? All this time later, it still took her breath away.

‘Marina?’

It wasn’t Max’s fault that his mother was supremely tactless. ‘It’s not up to me to give you permission. If you want to visit Rosie—’ she spread her hands ‘—then visit her. But bear in mind she has pre-eclampsia. The last thing she needs right now is any kind of worry that’ll make her blood pressure rise.’

‘As a medic, I’d just about worked that one out for myself,’ Max said drily.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.’ She blew out a breath. ‘It’s just…’

‘She’s your big sister, you love her and you worry about her,’ Max supplied.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s good that she has family who care.’

Marina was careful not to comment, and she took refuge in eating the chocolate he’d given her.

He sighed. ‘Look, if you’re worrying—nobody here knows about Bristol. And I’m happy for it to stay that way. I don’t like being gossiped about, either. If anyone twigs that we know each other, we’ll just tell them we worked together years ago and lost touch.’

It was the truth. Just not the whole truth. And it left out a hell of a lot of pain in between. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

He looked away. ‘We have to work together, and there’s enough tension in an emergency department as it is without adding to it.’

‘Agreed.’

‘So can we just drop the formality and treat each other like any other member of staff?’

‘Sure.’ But he wasn’t just ‘any other member of staff’. He never could be. But Marina had already been there, done that and had her heart well and truly broken. She wasn’t going to take that risk a second time. No matter that she still found Max incredibly attractive physically; she knew that they weren’t compatible. And, although part of her would’ve been more than happy to walk back into his arms, part of her knew that it’d be a huge mistake. She’d simply be setting herself up for more misery. So she was going to have to learn to think of him as just a colleague.

Somehow.

She drained her coffee. ‘I’d better get back. Thanks for the chocolate.’

‘Pleasure.’

During his lunch break, Max called in at the hospital shop to buy chocolates and a puzzle magazine—he’d already learned that the hospital had a clear-locker-top policy, and flowers were discouraged, to help in the battle with hygiene—and went up to the maternity ward.

‘We have protected lunchtimes, I’m afraid,’ the senior midwife told him firmly. ‘Sorry. You’ll have to come back later.’

‘Is there any chance you can bend the rules for me, as
staff?’ Max asked. ‘I promise to be quiet. And I have a feeling that this particular patient hates being on bed rest. So that’s fifteen minutes or so when you won’t have to keep an eye on her and nag her, because I can do it for you.’

She glanced at his name-tag. ‘Ah. You work with Rosie’s sister?’

‘I do indeed.’ Max had no intention of giving the more complicated explanation—that Rosie was his ex-sister-in-law. He held out his free hand. ‘Max Fenton, emergency senior registrar.’

She shook his hand and introduced herself. ‘Iris Rutherford, senior midwife. No doubt we’ll be working together at some point.’

‘Good to meet you outside of a crisis.’ Max gave her his most charming smile.

‘All right. You can have fifteen minutes,’ Iris said. ‘But you’d better make sure she rests and doesn’t move, or I’ll be forced to scalp you.’

He laughed, enjoying her direct approach. ‘I will. Thank you, Iris.’

Max followed her directions; Rosie was in a room on her own, flicking listlessly through a magazine and looking very fed up.

‘Psst. Open for visitors?’ he asked from the doorway.

She looked at him, and then gave him a broad smile. ‘Max Fenton! What on earth are you doing here?’

‘Visiting you,’ he said, walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

Her eyes widened. ‘We’re not allowed visitors at lunchtime.’

‘I know.’ He laughed. ‘I begged.’

‘Charmed, more like. You always could melt women’s
knees with that gorgeous smile of yours.’ She grinned and held her arms open. ‘Come and give me a hug, Max. It’s good to see you.’

‘And it’s good to see you, Rosie Petrelli.’ And even better to be hugged like that again. He’d missed the warmth of Marina’s family, and his own. Well…he’d always found his mother’s hugs stifling rather than warm. Though, now that everything was finally out in the open about his father, he could understand the way she behaved. Could sympathise, even.

‘I’m Rosie Brown nowadays.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding, Max. But, apart from the fact that you’d cut off all contact with us, it would’ve been a bit—’

‘Awkward, given who was probably your chief brides-maid,’ he finished wryly, sitting on the chair next to her bed. ‘You did the right thing. I would’ve brought you some flowers, but I gather they’ve been banned from the hospital for a while. I hope these will do.’ He placed the goodies on her lap.

‘My favourites; you remembered I love white chocolate.’ She beamed at him. ‘And you managed to find the only puzzle magazine I haven’t already gone through. Thank you. That’s so, so sweet of you,
caro
.’

‘My pleasure. So how long have you been in here?’

‘Nineteen days, and counting,’ Rosie said with a rueful smile, ‘thanks to my bossy little sister.’

‘Marina picked it up?’ Max looked at her, surprised.

‘She was on a day off, so she came to have lunch with me. I wasn’t feeling brilliant; I thought it was just a bit of indigestion and a headache. But when I told her where the pain was she wasn’t happy about it. She said it was rare to
get pre-eclampsia with a second baby, but she wanted it checked out. She made me call the midwife and then drink loads of water.’

Ready for a urine test, no doubt. Rosie wasn’t in the high-risk group, though: she was under thirty-five, her weight was average and it wasn’t her first pregnancy. As far as Max knew, there wasn’t a family history of pre-eclampsia, and Rosie wasn’t a diabetic. Plus, from what Marina had said, she was only expecting one baby, not twins or triplets. ‘So where was the pain? Just under your ribs?’

Rosie rolled her eyes. ‘Spoken just like a doctor! Yes. And, yes, before you ask, there turned out to be a little bit of protein in my urine and my blood pressure was a bit on the high side.’

Knowing Rosie, that was a major understatement.

‘So they’re keeping me in to monitor the baby and keep an eye on me,’ she finished.

‘How far are you?’

‘Thirty-three weeks—and it’s driving me insane, being stuck here.’ She shook herself. ‘And here’s me being ungrateful. Marina’s been absolutely brilliant. And, yes, I do know she probably saved my life.’

If Rosie’s symptoms hadn’t been picked up so quickly, she could have been very ill—and there would’ve been a serious risk both to the baby and to Rosie herself. If Rosie’s condition had turned into eclampsia, both of them could have died.

‘She’s sorted out a place at the hospital crèche for Phoebe while I’m here, and she brings my baby in to see me every morning before her shift. She picks her up, too, if she’s on an early. Neil’s boss has been really good about
him working more flexible hours, but it’s smack in the middle of the busy season.’

‘Busy season?’

‘It’s March—coming up to the end of the tax year. He’s an accountant,’ Rosie explained, ‘so normally he’d be working silly hours in the office, but because I’m stuck in here he’s having to bring work home and do it when Phoebe’s asleep. Mum and Dad have been brilliant, too. Dad’s painting the baby’s room and Mum’s keeping the house ticking over and making sure that there’s food in the fridge, so Neil can spend time here with me and Phoebe instead of worrying about housework and shopping and what have you.’