Doctor's Orders Page 10

  Isabel glanced up swiftly, her eyes flashing angrily as she pulled up her mask, trying to hide the hot red stain creeping across her cheeks. He was purposely trying to bait her, trying to embarrass her. “I don’t recall being afraid,” she answered coldly; “just angry at your presumption.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot. You’re the girl who is purer than the driven snow!” His tone was sharp edged with sarcasm. “Although I have noticed you appear to have fallen in easily with a particular surgeon.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by that remark,” Isabel shot back at him in a hiss. She wanted to shout, but the presence of the entire operating team in the next room prevented that. “Just because I enjoy Cliffs company doesn’t mean…”

  “It usually does where Cliff Peterson is concerned,” he interrupted, his dark brows twisting ironically above his mask.

  Angrily Isabel opened her mouth to answer, but the words died in her throat, as the door from the main corridor to the anaesthetic room swung open, and a capped and gowned figure strode in, his face mask hanging untidily around his neck. Ignoring Isabel, the man reached out his hand to Mike. “Hi,” he said, “I bet I’m a surprise!”

  Weakly Isabel reached out for the edge of the bench behind her, her blood coursing icily through her veins. The surprise was intended for Mike Blakeney, but for her it was a bombshell!

  Through an alarmed haze she heard Mike reply, “Hugh, what the devil are you doing here?”

  Hastily she turned away, towards the swing doors into the operating theatre. There was no real escape, but absurdly she felt that in the operating theatre she would be safe. Safe from her ex-fiancé who was standing in the anaesthetic room, greeting Mike Blakeney like the long lost friend he so obviously was.

  “Isabel,” Mike’s voice halted her in her tracks.

  “I’d like you to meet an anaesthetist friend of mine, Hugh Sinclair.”

  How she forced herself to turn calmly back Isabel never knew. Her feet and legs felt as if they were made of wood, stiff and uncoordinated, but turn back she did, saying with admirable aplomb, “Actually, we’ve already met.” The understatement of the year, she couldn’t help thinking as she uttered the insignificant words!

  She heard Hugh’s sharp intake of breath, as in one swift stride he was across the room. “Isabel!” there was incredulous disbelief in his voice. “This is the last place in the world I expected to find you.”

  “Snap,” she returned drily, then added hastily before he could speak again, “I must return to the operating theatre now.”

  At that moment Sister Clarke popped her head through the anaesthetic room doors. To Isabel, she seemed like an angel straight from heaven. “Would you and your visitor like a cup of coffee, Dr Blakeney?” she enquired.

  “Good idea,” said Mike, ushering Hugh out through the swing doors, at the same time flashing Isabel a puzzled glance. Hugh, for his part, looked completely nonplussed, and Isabel couldn’t help a little inward grin of smug satisfaction. Partly because Hugh looked so uncomfortable and partly because she hadn’t felt the tearing at her heart strings she had expected to feel if she ever saw him again. Then there was Mike Blakeney too, looking so puzzled. Yes, now you’ll know I’ve got a past too, she thought grimly, although I’ve never flaunted mine around, and I’ve never made anyone suffer by my bad moods!

  Back in theatre, Steve Holden, the SHO, was quite chatty without Mike Blakeney to inhibit him. “I’ve got my primary FFA coming up soon,” he confided, adjusting the flow on the anaesthetic machine. “Although I’m way behind in my revision of physics. In fact, at the moment, you could say my knowledge is zero.”

  Isabel smiled behind her mask. “I’m sure you’re being too modest,” she whispered, casting an anxious glance at Mr Goldsmith concentrating on his surgery. “I bet you know something.”

  “Sure, ‘There was a young lady named Bright, whose speed was far faster than light; she set out one day, in a relative way, and returned home the previous night!’”

  His recitation and Susie Wee’s muffled giggles were brought to an abrupt close by Mr Goldsmith’s loud cough. He glowered frostily over the top of his spectacles at the now frozen Steve. “Dr Holden, would you like us to take a natural, or should I say unnatural break, while you entertain us with pearls of scientific wisdom.” His voice was heavily laced with sarcasm. “Or am I to be allowed to remove this gall-bladder in peace?” There was no answer from the now terrified junior anaesthetist. “Well?” he bellowed as he waited, scalpel poised.

  “Sorry, sir,” muttered Steve, “I’ll be quiet.”

  “Huh!” snorted Mr Goldsmith and, shooting a malevolent glare in the unfortunate Steve’s direction, he bent once more over the patient and proceeded to cut, while Steve twiddled vigorously, and totally unnecessarily, with the knobs on the anaesthetic machine!

  When surgery was nearly finished and it was time to reverse the patient, Steve nodded at Isabel. “Get Dr Blakeney for me, will you please? I don’t want to make any more mistakes!”

  Isabel nodded and left the operating theatre. Poor Steve, he was a bag of nerves. A bit like myself, she thought, as she made her way to the surgeons’ room. She worried, wondering whether Hugh had enlightened Mike on their former relationship. Perhaps he hasn’t, she comforted herself, perhaps he’s maintained a discreet silence. Anyway, common sense told her, what did it matter whether or not Mike Blakeney knew about her past, she was being totally illogical. Her common sense didn’t convince her, however, because whether she liked it or not, she did care what Mike Blakeney thought, it did matter.

  The moment she walked into the surgeons’ room to call Mike back to theatre, she knew Hugh had told him. At the sight of her he stood up. “Patient ready to come off the table?” he asked. Isabel nodded and turned to walk back towards theatre, but Mike stopped her, catching at her wrist in his strong hand, and drawing her back into the surgeons’ room. “Steve and I can manage. You stay here and talk to Hugh. You two must have quite a lot to catch up on!”

  “No, I don’t think…” began Isabel. The very last thing she wanted him to think was that she wanted to have a heart-to-heart with Hugh.

  “Don’t forget, I too have had experience of these disastrous affairs of the heart!” he said in a mocking tone, which rang painfully in Isabel’s ears. “Stay and talk.” These last words were issued as a command rather than an invitation, and gave Isabel no alternative but to stay, particularly as he abruptly shoved a cup of coffee into her hand and plonked her down in one of the chairs before striding back to theatre.

  Isabel sipped her coffee uncomfortably, regarding Hugh’s face over the rim of the cup. He was darkly handsome, an aristocratic face with a fine bone structure, but Isabel wondered suddenly how it was that she had never noticed the weakness in his mouth before. The little-boy-lost look he had when he smiled, instead of melting her heart the way it used too, merely served to make her feel slightly annoyed. “How are you?” she asked. Her voice was firm and clipped, her very official nurse-type voice, the one she used for difficult patients.

  Hugh noticed her tone of voice. “No need to speak to me as if I’m a naughty boy,” he said with a disarming grin. “Although I know I have been.”

  “Have you?” asked Isabel distantly, feeling strangely disinterested.

  “Of course I have. Chucking you over like that. How can you ever forgive me?”

  Isabel stared at him. Was he trying to make up to her? “I forgave you a long time ago,” she said coldly. “It’s all history now. It was probably a good thing for both of us, we weren’t suited.”

  Hugh pulled his chair closer to Isabel and, to her consternation, took her hand. “It’s not all over,” he said, “I realised when you disappeared, and no one would tell me where you had gone, that I needed you.”

  Isabel tried to pull her hand away. “What about the other girl,” she said coldly, “the one you were so passionat
ely in love with. One of the many,” she couldn’t resist adding, “who was not frigid like me!”

  “Oh, Isabel,” he said in a pleading tone, “I know I was rotten to you. Let’s start again.”

  “No,” she said abruptly, snatching her hand away. Putting her coffee cup down with a clatter, she backed out of the room. “I meant it when I said it was history. It is. As far as I am concerned it’s over and done with.”

  Hugh followed her to the doorway. “Is there someone else then?” he asked.

  Isabel hesitated for a moment. At his words the very thing she had been trying to deny to herself ever since Mike Blakeney had kissed her hit her like a thunderbolt between the eyes. It was Mike she had fallen in love with, that dour, taciturn, unpredictable man who certainly didn’t love her, although he would have been quite willing to take her to bed. She sighed, a soft sigh as a whisper. “Yes, there is someone else,” she answered slowly, “someone I have fallen head over heels in love with.”

  “Someone here?” persisted Hugh.

  “Yes,” Isabel replied abruptly, not prepared to give anything more away, knowing that she had said too much already! Quickly she turned on her heel to walk back into theatre, only to cannon straight into the muscular form of Mike Blakeney who had come back, unheard by her, and was standing immediately behind her. With a slight gasp she hastily tied her mask back on, hoping that it would disguise the telltale colour flooding her cheeks, praying that he hadn’t overheard her last words.

  “I always thought Cliff Peterson was a fast worker,” he said in a low voice, audible to her ears only as she passed him, “now I know!”

  Horrified, Isabel stared at him. The stern expression on his face was doing nothing to help her composure. It was bad enough that he had overheard, but even worse that he should have jumped so readily to the wrong conclusion. What could she do? The answer, of course, was absolutely nothing. If she denied it was Cliff Peterson, he might guess the true identity of the man to whom she had lost her heart, and that would be even worse. There was nothing for it but to put a brave face on it and brazen it out. So flashing him a defiant mind-your-own-business look, she stalked past him into the anaesthetic room, and proceeded to lay up the room ready for the next patient, going about her tasks with a grim determination.

  Mike followed her into the anaesthetic room and sent Steve, the SHO, off for a coffee. “Nurse McKenna and I will do the next case,” he said. Isabel’s heart sank, she didn’t want to be alone with him, but outwardly she maintained a cool exterior. He waited until Steve had gone and then turned to Isabel. “Hugh has gone to join the cardiac anaesthetist, in theatre fourteen. He has come down to watch some by-pass work, or did he tell you that himself?”

  “No,” replied Isabel briefly, busying herself unnecessarily with the drug ampoules she had already laid out twice in the tray!

  “A big disappointment for him to find out you have become involved with someone else so quickly. Especially as he has had such a hard task tracking you down!”

  “I doubt that Hugh will remain disappointed for long,” rejoined Isabel drily, “he’s never had any problems in the past!”

  “Of course, I should have realised,” he mused, standing watching her with his arms crossed. “You looked so happy on Sunday in the boat. Positively blooming as a girl in love should,” he added, a sarcastic ring to his voice.

  “I prefer not to discuss my private life,” said Isabel calmly, although cold fingers were gnawing at her heart. This was getting worse and worse, he was putting two and two together and coming up with five, but there was little she could do about it. Luckily the next patient arrived at that moment, so there was no more opportunity to continue the embarrassing discussion. It was with a distinct feeling of relief that she hastily changed at the end of the morning list, making her getaway as soon as possible and joining Sally and Susie as they made their way down to the hospital canteen.

  Sally didn’t waste any time. As usual she was in possession of the latest gossip and was only too anxious to impart it to all and sundry. “You remember that glamorous girl with Dr Blakeney on the yacht on Sunday?” she asked.

  “As if anyone could forget,” replied Susie with an exaggerated sigh. “She was so gorgeous, like a fashion model.”

  “She is,” answered Sally, “but besides that, she is Mike Blakeney’s ex-fiancée, the one who ran off and married his brother.” She looked around conspiratorially as they joined the queue for the hot plate counter. “Pete has told me that apparently she and Mike’s brother have quarrelled and separated, and she has flown straight back to Mike’s arms.”

  At her words Isabel’s heart lurched sickeningly. She ought to have known. All the signs were that he was still in love with his ex-fiancée. His moodiness, the fact that he had never had another regular girlfriend, his generally antagonistic attitude towards women. What a fool I’ve been to fall for him, she thought bitterly, and all because he kissed me! Yes, she thought savagely, angry with herself, that was the only reason, her own stupidity. He certainly hadn’t given her any other form of encouragement, she had to be honest. The only slight salve for her wounded pride was the fact that she had resisted his blatantly sexual charms.

  “Isabel, are you listening to me?” Sally’s voice cut across her tortured thoughts.

  Isabel suddenly realised that she had reached the head of the queue and hadn’t ordered. “Pie and chips,” she muttered hurriedly, ordering the first thing she could see. Later, sitting at the table, she surprised everyone by telling Sally rather abruptly that she didn’t think they should gossip about Dr Blakeney.

  “Why ever not?” Sally’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “I thought it would be of interest to know that Sarah has moved in with him, actually moved in with her ex-fiancé,” she repeated emphasising the point.

  “It may interest you, but it certainly doesn’t interest me,” snapped Isabel sharply, eating her lunch quickly, although the pie and chips might just have well have been sawdust for all the taste it had in her mouth.

  ‘OK,” said Sally blithely, not in the least put out. “Let’s change the subject. Do you know who that rather gorgeous looking dark chap was? The one who was with Mike Blakeney this morning and then went off to cardiac?”

  “Yes,” said Isabel abruptly, clattering her knife and fork down on her plate as she gave up the unequal struggle with the unpalatable pie and chips. “That was Hugh Sinclair. He’s an anaesthetist from Edinburgh, and he is my ex-fiancé!” She paused for a moment, looking at the sea of faces around the table, all staring at her with their mouths open in astonishment. “And may I stress the ex, before you all start jumping to conclusions! Another thing,” she rose from the table, “there is absolutely no chance of me flying back to his arms.” Picking up her tray she marched away, leaving the assembled company at the table silently digesting this latest piece of information.

  Leaving the canteen so abruptly had left her with twenty minutes to kill before the start of the afternoon operating list. Miserably Isabel wandered down the long corridor leading away from the canteen, pausing idly to scan the notice board. The board, as usual, was covered with cards and scraps of paper, advertising everything from a trip to the Himalayas to an old electric cleaner for sale. Half hidden beneath another postcard, Isabel suddenly saw the advert for the flat. Lounge, bedroom, bathroom and kitchen it said, rent £150 a month. Hurriedly doing some quick mental arithmetic, Isabel realised she could just about afford that. So noting down the phone number she made her way quickly towards the entrance hall of the hospital, where there were some public telephones. The flat hadn’t been taken, so she made arrangements to visit it that evening. Somehow doing something positive, like trying to move out of the hospital environment, cheered her up. Plenty more pebbles on the beach, my girl, she told herself firmly. Next time, be sure not to pick an anaesthetist!

  Once back in the anaesthetic room, she set about her tasks in her us
ual efficient way, although she couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Mike’s handsome profile as he bent attentively over a patient. He was a dark horse, she reflected a little resentfully, having his brother’s wife move in with him. I’ve had a lucky escape, she told herself, he obviously hasn’t got any principles! All the same, she couldn’t help her skin prickling when her hand brushed against his during the afternoon. It was a kind of sweet agony to be near him, and she wondered if he too felt any of the same vitality flowing between them or whether it was all in her overactive imagination.

  When the afternoon list had finished, Mike went off as usual with the patient to recovery, accompanied this time by Steve Holden, and Isabel tidied up the anaesthetic room. She glanced at her watch quickly, they had started on a second coronary artery by-pass in the theatre fourteen, so that would keep Hugh occupied for the time being at least. If she changed quickly, she could probably avoid meeting him again, at least for one day. As she dashed into the changing room, Sally and Susie were on the point of leaving. Both girls eyed her curiously and somewhat cautiously and Isabel suddenly remembered her outburst at lunch. She laughed at their apprehensive expressions, “Don’t look so worried, I’m not going to bite your heads off again.”

  “Oh, Isabel,” Sally came over and laid a hand sympathetically on her arm, “I’m so sorry, you know if there is anything we can do…” her voice trailed away uncertainly.

  “There is, as a matter-of-fact,” replied Isabel, slinging her theatre dress into the dirty linen basket. “Can one of you lend me a bike this evening? I want to go and inspect a flat that’s vacant.”

  Susie volunteered hers willingly and even offered to pump up the tyres. It was agreed that she should meet Isabel in the cycle shed at six thirty, sharp.

  “It’s a bit of a bone-shaker,” said Susie apologetically as Isabel tried it out, “but the brakes work.”

  “Which is more than they do in Cliff’s car,” said Isabel as she tried them out.