The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Bride (7 page)

‘No,’ she said finally. ‘We said no strings tonight. That means no elephants.’

‘Well, that’s your answer.’ He didn’t want to tell her about the accident, because he didn’t want her to pity him. And he didn’t want to tell her about his father, because it would be all too easy to tell her the whole story—and he still hadn’t quite come to terms with it himself. ‘We’re going to have to talk about it properly at some point. But you’re right: not now.’

‘We’ve made a start,’ Marina said. ‘That’s enough for tonight.’

They lapsed back into silence, but it was still a comfortable silence, and she was still cuddling into him. Right at that moment he was happy just to be there with her in his arms, chilling out and forgetting about their lousy day.

When the music finally ended, he said, ‘I think we could both do with some sleep. Come to bed.’ He stood up and held his hand out; when she took it, he pulled her to her feet, twined his fingers through hers and led her back to his bedroom.

She bit her lip, looking faintly embarrassed.

‘What?’

‘Max, I’m not wearing anything under this robe.’

Guessing what was making her uncomfortable, he lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed her palm and curled her fingers round where he’d kissed. ‘I know that. OK. Turn your back.’

‘Why?’

‘So I can get undressed too.’ He gave her a wicked grin. ‘Unless you’d rather watch me take all my clothes off? I can strip for you, if you like.’

Colour shot into her face. ‘Max!’

‘Just a thought,’ he said mildly. But at least he’d made her smile.

He pulled off his sweater, and stifled a chuckle when she hastily turned her back to him. He stripped swiftly, climbed into the bed and pulled the duvet over him. ‘OK, I’m in bed—and my back’s turned, so it’s safe for you to take off my robe and get into bed.’

He felt the mattress dip slightly with her weight, then she curled into him. ‘Thank you.’ She pressed a kiss against his spine.

‘What for?’

‘Being nice. When I’m behaving ridiculously, in the circumstances.’

He shifted so that he was facing her. ‘It’s not a problem.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Good night, Marina.’

‘Good night.’

He turned the light off. It was a while before he slept, though he was aware when she fell asleep, as her breathing became regular and deep. With Marina lying in his arms, he felt oddly at peace. Funny, in his brief relationships over the last couple of years, he’d never once stayed the night with anyone. He realised now how much he’d missed that closeness.

Ha. Who was he trying to kid? More like, how much
he’d missed Marina. And that was why he’d never spent the night with anyone else. Because they hadn’t been her.

Finally, Max slid into sleep.

‘No!’

The agonised yell woke Marina instantly. She sat bolt upright, slightly disoriented and wondering where she was.

Then it all snapped back. She was in Max’s flat. Max’s bed. And Max was thrashing about next to her, clearly in the middle of a nightmare. His breathing was fast and shallow; he was almost at the point of hyperventilating.

She laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him. ‘Max.
Max
. It’s OK. You’re here. In London. With me.’

He groaned and shuddered; she continued talking to him, reassuring him quietly, until at last he was still.

‘Max?’ she asked softly. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Uh, fine.’

She didn’t believe him. ‘You were having a nightmare.’

‘I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.’ He sounded embarrassed.

‘It’s not a problem.’ She sighed. ‘If I knew where your bedside light was, I’d turn it on.’

Without comment, he switched on the lamp.

His face looked absolutely ghastly, very pale, and he was in a cold sweat. Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had clearly been distressing in the extreme. ‘Stay put,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you some water.’ She retrieved the bathrobe, belted it tightly round herself, then fetched him a glass of water and sat on the bed next to him.

He took a sip of water and placed the glass on his bedside table.

‘So what was that about?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

She laced her fingers through his and simply waited.

Eventually, he sighed. ‘I get bad dreams from time to time.’

‘About something that happened while you were working abroad?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Tell me.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s old stuff.’

She had no idea where he’d been working—whether it had been a war zone, or whether he’d been helping out after some kind of natural disaster—so she couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d seen to affect him so badly. ‘Did you have any counselling about it?’

‘I didn’t need it.’

‘Tell me,’ she said neutrally. ‘If a colleague had been through whatever it was you went through, would you advise them to have counselling?’

‘I’m fine. Don’t fuss.’

She’d seen that look on his face before—when he’d shut himself away from her, after she’d miscarried their baby. Clearly this was one respect in which he hadn’t changed. Even now, Max was pushing her away, refusing to talk.

Maybe she should take the hint.

‘I think,’ she said quietly, releasing his hand, ‘maybe I should go home.’

He glanced at the clock. ‘It’s three in the morning. The Tube won’t be open.’

‘I’ll call a taxi, then.’

‘Marina.’ He sat upright and wrapped his arms round her. ‘I’m sorry. Don’t go. It’s…not that easy for me to talk about things.’

She wasn’t going to throw his apology back in his
face; four years ago she might’ve done that, but as he’d said himself she was older and wiser now. Instead, she slid her arms round him, and he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

‘I was working as part of the rescue team after an earthquake. While I was stabilising a little girl so we’d be able to move her, there was a second tremor—and the building came down on us. It took them a while to dig us out.’

‘How long?’

‘I was unconscious for some of it.’

‘How long?’ she repeated.

‘I don’t know. Five or six hours, maybe. It was pretty unpleasant. Hot as hell; my mouth and eyes and nose were full of dust, and I couldn’t even move to clean it out.’

She tightened her arms round him. She’d just bet that it had been far worse than his economical description. And he’d been unconscious. ‘Did you have concussion?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

He sighed. ‘A broken arm and leg. Which meant I wasn’t much use out there, so they shipped me home.’

And no doubt he’d been stuck in bed for a while. No wonder he understood exactly what Rosie was going through.

Though Marina was very, very aware of what he
hadn’t
said. And she knew he wasn’t going to volunteer the information himself. ‘What about the little girl?’ she asked quietly.

‘She didn’t make it.’

Four little words that told her volumes. ‘And losing that patient today must’ve brought some of the memories back,’ she said.

‘Yes.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I suppose I really should’ve
warned you that I might dream about it tonight. But we—uh—I thought I’d be OK.’

Except he wasn’t. ‘Then I’m glad I stayed,’ she said, stroking his face. ‘That I could be here for you.’

‘I’m glad you stayed, too,’ he admitted.

Then somehow his mouth was on hers, warm and sweet, asking rather than demanding, yet giving and promising at the same time.

This time, their love-making was slow and gentle, soothing each other rather than filling them with the frantic and desperate need from before. Every touch, every kiss, was like balm being poured over old hurts. This time, Marina’s climax was soft, sweet and fulfilling, like summer rain rather than a winter cloudburst. And when Max turned out the light she curled back into his arms and drifted into sleep, feeling warm, safe and secure—and happier than she’d felt in a long, long time.

T
HE
alarm shrilled; Marina rolled over and groped for the bedside table, intending to hit the snooze button, then suddenly realised why the bedside table wasn’t there: because she wasn’t in her own bed. And Max’s alarm clock was over on his side.

She heard a soft click, and the shrilling stopped.

‘Good morning,’ Max said, his tone completely neutral.

She followed his lead. ‘Good morning.’

And now what? She’d never experienced morning-after awkwardness before—not even the first time she’d spent the night with Max. They’d gone to bed laughing, and they’d woken up tangled together and smiling.

Now they were tangled together and…awkward.

‘What’s the time?’ she asked.

‘Half-past six.’

An hour and a half until her shift started. And she had things to do. She really, really shouldn’t be here. ‘Then I have to go. I need to collect Phoebe from Neil, and I need to take her to see Rosie before she goes to the hospital nursery.’

‘I’ll sort your clothes out while you have a shower, if you like?’ Max offered.

‘Thanks. That’d be good.’

By the time she’d finished, Max had laid her clothes on the bed—he’d clearly taken them straight out of the dryer rather than ironing them, as they were a little crumpled, but nobody would notice beneath her coat—and she could smell coffee and toast. She went into the kitchen, and Max handed her a mug. ‘I’ve added a bit of cold water so you can drink it straight down.’ He also handed her a plate of buttered toast. ‘Sorry, I don’t have any jam or honey.’

That wry, slightly shy smile, made her decide: Max, too, clearly felt awkward and mixed up about the whole situation, not sure whether he was more relieved or disappointed that she was leaving.

‘No jam or honey. Now, why doesn’t that surprise me, Dr Hubbard?’ she teased.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ But his face cleared.

She walked over to him and kissed him lightly. ‘Thanks, Max. I appreciate this.’

‘Is there anything else you need?’

‘I’m fine—but thank you for asking.’ She finished her toast and drank her coffee quickly. ‘In case you were wondering, I really do have to go. It’s not just an excuse to avoid you.’ Well, not completely. Though she had to admit that it was pretty convenient.

‘Uh-huh. I’ll see you at work.’

She bit her lip. ‘Max, before I go…’

He looked at her. ‘What?’

‘About last night…I don’t want anyone talking about us at work. Can we keep this to ourselves?’

‘Sure.’ His face was expressionless. ‘As you said, no strings.’

She saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes before he managed to mask it. And, even though she knew this was going to
lead to complications and was completely dangerous where her peace of mind was concerned, she said, ‘I’m not on call tonight, so you could come over for supper, if you like?’

He looked at her for a moment, as if judging whether her offer was genuine or guilt-driven.

It was a bit of both, if she were honest about it.

‘I’d like that,’ he said finally. ‘What time?’

‘Seven? That gives me time to take Phoebe to Rosie after my shift and stay with them for a bit.’

‘Are you sure that’s long enough? I can make it half-past seven, if that’s easier.’

‘Half-past seven it is. Got a piece of paper and a pen?’

‘Sure.’ He grabbed a pad and pen from the drawer where he kept the takeaway leaflets and handed it to her.

She scribbled down her address, added a mobile-phone number, then kissed him briefly. ‘See you later. I have to run.’

The world seemed a different place this morning, Max thought as he showered. He hadn’t felt this relaxed and carefree for years—now he thought about it, not since he and Marina had first been together. There wasn’t the worry that had come with her pregnancy and the hurried arrangements for their wedding, or the desolation that had surrounded her miscarriage, or the misery as their marriage had splintered, or the days afterwards when he’d worked to the point of near-exhaustion so that he’d be able to fall into a dreamless sleep and shut out the past.

Then he realised why he felt so relaxed.

Because, for the first time in a long, long while, there was hope in his life.

He knew that he and Marina still had a long way to go;
for a start, they had to tackle the things that had gone so badly wrong before, and work through them together instead of running away from the issues. But he was beginning to think that maybe now there was a chance that they could come out the other side. That he could make it with her.

He smiled at everyone on his way in to work that morning, but, even though his heart gave a funny little jolt when he saw Marina, he was careful to treat her the way he usually did, as if she were just another member of the team.

And everything, Max thought, was definitely all right with his world today.

‘Someone, please, help my baby!’

The woman staggering into reception was carrying a child Marina judged to be around five years old; her face was white with fear, and the child was wheezing. An asthma attack? Marina wondered.

‘Can you tell Max I need him in Resus, please?’ she said to Dawn, the staff nurse who was doing triage.

Dawn nodded and went to find Max as Marina walked over to the woman. ‘I’m a doctor. Let me help you,’ she said, taking the child. ‘We’ll go into a room over here. Can you tell me what happened?’

‘Jessie’s had an ear infection; the doctor gave her antibiotics and she was perking up. I took her to the park because I thought some fresh air might make her feel better, but then she started wheezing. She can’t breathe!’

A first glance also told Marina that the child was covered in a rash, tiny red spots that she could practically see appearing on the little girl’s skin.

‘I know I should’ve called an ambulance, but the park’s
opposite the hospital and I thought it would be quicker to bring her over.’

‘You did the right thing,’ Marina reassured her. ‘What were the antibiotics?’

‘Amoxicillin.’

‘Has your daughter ever had amoxicillin before?’

‘No.’

‘When did you start giving it to her?’

‘Last week. She had the last dose last night. The doctor said it was important to finish them, even if she seemed a lot better.’

To help avoid antibiotic resistance—funnily enough, the topic that Marina had planned to cover in her next batch of articles. ‘How long has she had the rash?’

‘She had a couple of spots this morning, but…’ The woman gasped as she saw the redness over the little girl’s face. ‘It wasn’t anywhere near that bad. I would never have taken her out with that!’

They could practically see the spots appearing and spreading. ‘I think,’ Marina said carefully, ‘Your daughter’s reacting to the antibiotics.’

‘But—I thought if they were allergic to antibiotics it happened straight away?’

‘Sometimes it does, but it often happens a day or so after the last dose,’ Marina explained. ‘You did the right thing bringing her here, because we can help her. Is she on any other medication?’

‘No.’

‘Does she have any other medical conditions or allergies?’

The woman shook her head. ‘Just the normal coughs and colds kids get, and she was definitely over the ear infection, because she’d stopped saying how much it hurts.’

Marina established the rest of Jessie’s patient history on the way to Resus. As they reached the double doors, Max came up. ‘This is Max Fenton, our senior registrar,’ Marina said. ‘Max, this is Jessie, and I think she’s having a reaction to amoxicillin.’

‘OK.’ Max smiled at Jessie’s mother. ‘I know you’re worried, but your daughter’s in the best place now. Dawn here will take you through to the relatives’ room, and we’ll come and get you when Jessie’s feeling a bit better.’

The woman shook her head wildly. ‘I can’t leave my baby. I
can’t
.’

‘The thing is,’ Marina said, ‘the medical procedures we need to use can look a bit scary, and we might not have time to explain them to you properly as we’re working. I know waiting’s going to be hard, but trust me on this. It’ll be a lot easier on your nerves than watching us.’

Jessie’s mother looked at her. ‘You’re the doctor in the paper, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ Marina gave her a self-conscious smile.

‘I read your column every week. It’s really good.’ She nodded. ‘All right.’

While Dawn took the woman through to the relatives’ room, Marina filled Max in on Jessie’s medical history.

Gently, they removed Jessie’s coat and sweater; the rash had spread, and the little girl was fighting for air.

‘We’ll defer intubation until the epinephrine kicks in,’ Max said.

‘I’ll give her high-flow oxygen and salbutamol on mask,’ Marina said.

‘Good.’ Max deftly put a line into Jessie’s vein as Marina hooked her up to the monitoring equipment.

‘BP’s low,’ Marina said. With severe allergic reactions,
blood could leak from the veins, causing low blood pressure and hypovolaemic shock.

‘Give her a bolus of Ringer’s,’ Max said. ‘How old is she?’

‘Five.’

‘Normal weight—I’d say about eighteen kilos.’

‘Agreed.’ Marina mentally calculated the amount of solution she needed to give, based on the child’s weight, and sorted it out while Max put in a second line and administered epinephrine.

It took three doses before Jessie finally stopped fighting for air; Max added antihistamines to the mix, and Marina kept a close eye on the monitoring equipment, knowing that the drugs they were using to stabilise the little girl’s condition and stop the swelling of her throat could also cause heart arrhythmias.

‘I’ll call the paediatric ward and tell them we want to admit Jessie,’ Marina said. ‘We need her under obs for the next twenty-four hours.’ With severe drug reactions, there was a risk of a second, delayed reaction, so it was best to be prepared. ‘And that rash is going to be incredibly itchy—she’ll need some cream as well as the antihistamines.’

By the time Marina had called up to the children’s ward and spoken to Lynne, the senior sister on the ward, Jessie had revived sufficiently to want her mother. Max was holding the little girl’s hand and telling her a story to distract her, and he was making a great job of it; anyone would think he had children of his own and was used to telling stories at the drop of a hat to ward off tears.

Marina pushed away the thought of what might have been and said, ‘I’ll go and get her mum.’

The little girl brightened as soon as she saw her mother, and the woman almost collapsed in relief when she saw that her child was safe, and hugged her tightly.

‘She’s very much on the mend now,’ Marina said. ‘But we’re going to keep her in overnight. When a child reacts to medication as severely as Jessie did, sometimes there’s a second reaction a few hours later, so we want to make sure she’s OK before she goes home.’

‘The rash will take a bit longer to go. It’ll probably last for about a week,’ Max said. ‘And it’ll look worse before it gets better—it often seems to work its way downwards. We can give Jessie some antihistamines to make sure she doesn’t swell up and to help with the rash.’

‘But it’ll be terribly itchy, worse even than chicken-pox,’ Marina added. ‘So we’ll give you some lotion to help with that. Lynne on the children’s ward is brilliant with kids, and she’ll show you ways of helping Jessie to press or pinch her skin rather than scratch. I’ll take you up and introduce you to the team—Rhys Morgan, the consultant there, is just
lovely
.’

There was a particular softness to Marina’s smile as she said the other man’s name, and Max had to suppress a sudden flare of jealousy. How ridiculous. Despite what had happened last night, he had no claims on Marina—though she’d told him that she wasn’t seeing anyone. He didn’t have the right to be jealous.

Or maybe last night really had been all about comfort, and although she wasn’t actually seeing the paediatric specialist she was attracted to him. In love with him, even.

He pushed the thought away. ‘We’ll tell your GP what’s happened and make sure that Jessie’s hospital records are labelled, so the medical teams all know to give her a dif
ferent sort of antibiotic rather than penicillin if she needs treatment in the future,’ he said to Jessie’s mother. ‘Though it’s worth getting one of those Medic-Alert bracelets in case you’re elsewhere in the country or if you go abroad—it’ll warn the medics that she’s allergic to penicillin-type antibiotics.’

‘I will. Thank you both so much. You’ve been brilliant.’

‘It’s what we’re here for.’ Marina smiled at her. ‘Come on, I’ll take you both up so Jessie can get settled in to the ward.’

Max watched her leave before he started on the paperwork. They were definitely good together at work—and he hoped they could sort things out so they were good together outside work, too. The way it used to be, before everything had gone wrong.