Doctor Knows Best Page 3

  So her voice had a slight edge to it as she said, “Excuse me, gentlemen, I have work to do in my office. Now seems like an ideal time to do some catching up on my paperwork.”

  As she walked past the now empty cubicle in Casualty and back to the office, she could almost feel Giles Elliott’s piercing blue eyes boring holes in her back. Once in her office, instead of getting on with her paperwork as she should have done, and there certainly was a mountain of it to do, she sat, staring with unseeing eyes out of the window to the car park outside. The little alarm on her watch emitted a tiny high-pitched bleep, reminding her that it was on the hour. She glanced at her watch. Good heavens, twelve o’clock already. She had promised to meet her brother that day for lunch at one and that gave her only an hour in which to make some headway into the paperwork she disliked.

  Sighing, she pulled the overladen tray towards her. This was one of the Sister’s tasks she hated, but it had to be done. And, with a tremendous effort, by the time one o’clock came she had managed to make quite a sizeable inroad into it. So it was with a sense of well-earned relief that she pushed the tray away and set off to meet her brother.

  On arrival at the canteen she could see Richard with some of his friends already seated inside. Hastily grabbing a salad lunch she queued up to pay for it, then joined her brother.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said, squeezing in beside him. “I was trying to get some paperwork out of the way.”

  Richard grinned cheekily. “I still think the efficient Sister image doesn’t suit you,” he said.

  Megan aimed a friendly blow at him which he successfully managed to dodge. “I can’t say I can imagine you being a dignified doctor,” she countered. “What useful work have you been doing this morning?”

  “Well, for a change we actually did something very useful,” answered one of Richard’s friends, Simon. “We laid out and numbered the specimens for a first-year anatomy spot test. I call that being very useful.”

  “Oh well, in that case perhaps you can answer a question for me,” came a voice from the far end of the table. It was Rupert Grimes, a first-year medic whose elder brother was a third-year, hence the fact that he was lunching with them.

  “Fire away,” said Simon with all the self-assurance of a third-year medical student, feeling infinitely superior to a first-year.

  “What was the point of having that frog as item number four?” asked Rupert plaintively. “Was the Prof purposely trying to catch us out?”

  At the mention of the frog, eight pairs of incredulous eyes swivelled down towards the end of the table where Rupert was sitting.

  “Did you say frog?” Simon’s voice rose in a disbelieving squeak.

  “Yes, frog,” repeated Rupert even more plaintively. He consulted a scrap of paper. “Yes, specimen number four, I’ve got it written down here.”

  “That wasn’t a frog, you fool,” burst out his brother. “That was a bladder! My God, you’re going to do well if you can’t even identify pickled specimens!” The end of his sentence was lost in the great gale of laughter that suddenly swept around the table.

  Poor Rupert blushed a shade of beetroot red from the roots of his hair to his neck. Megan felt sorry for him, but even she couldn’t help laughing helplessly along with the rest. At last the laughter subsided and he shrank down in his seat, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Megan took her handkerchief from her uniform pocket and wiped her streaming eyes, and as she did so she suddenly sensed, rather than saw, that she was being observed.

  Almost as if she were a puppet on a string she felt her head turn in the direction of the gaze. Her large brown eyes, still sparkling with laughter, met the steel cold disapproval of ice blue ones. Giles Elliott stood, tray in hand, regarding the hilarity at the table with a distinct air of disdain about him. Hostility surrounded him like a physical aura.

  Megan felt her hackles rise in annoyance. What right had he to look so damned supercilious? She was off duty, for the moment anyway, and could laugh with whom she pleased. Defiantly she tilted her chin, flashed back a look of equal disapproval from her expressive brown eyes and turned her back towards him. Later she saw that he was sitting at a table with some very elderly consultants, and she couldn’t help feeling a little touch of satisfaction when she saw he was looking decidedly bored.

  Serves you right, thought Megan, knowing full well through the hospital grape-vine that the particular consultants he was sitting with had only one topic of conversation, money. Apparently, so it was rumoured, they had the private practice at the local nursing home sewn up between them. Well, they had nothing to fear from Giles Elliott, if what he had told her earlier was anything to go by, and he certainly had little in common with them. They were all years older than him.

  Megan left the canteen, avoiding meeting his eyes as she walked past his table, and made her way back to Casualty. The afternoon passed quickly. A succession of minor accidents were admitted, some patients arriving under their own steam, others being picked up from road traffic accidents and being brought in by ambulance. But there was nothing serious, just cuts and grazes, sprains and a broken arm—enough, however, to keep all the staff constantly on the go. Then a little boy was brought in by his mother with a plastic bullet lodged up his nostril. He had well and truly shot himself up the nose as he had been playing with a toy gun!

  Giles Elliott was called and decided to attempt to remove it in Casualty to avoid unnecessary trauma by admitting the toddler into a hospital ward, and he asked Megan to assist him. After a few moments, though, he laid down the nasal forceps and turned to her.

  “It’s too firmly lodged. Get an ENT surgeon down to have a look, will you? I think he will probably need to be admitted and have it removed under a general anaesthetic.”

  The ENT surgeon arrived and agreed with Giles Elliott’s opinion. Megan was not sorry to see the back of the rumbustious youngster. It had been quite a task trying to prevent him from swarming under, or climbing up, anything and everything in sight. He toddled away happily, not in the least bit worried, in the direction of the ward area, clutching his mother’s hand and with the plastic gun, the cause of all the trouble, still firmly clenched in his other fist.

  “An hour with one three-year-old boy and I feel quite exhausted. It must be old age,” said Megan to Giles Elliott with a laugh. Then she added, “Would you like a cup of tea? I have a kettle and a teapot in my office.”

  “Yes I would, Sister. I’ll be along in five minutes.” His answer was positive and immediate.

  As she was making the tea Megan wondered what on earth had possessed her to ask him to her office for tea, especially after the way he had glowered at her at lunch-time! However, she took great pains with the tray, setting it out carefully with the best cups she kept for special visitors and putting some chocolate fingers onto a small side plate.

  Giles Elliott knocked and came in, his tall frame seeming to fill every spare inch of the room. “This is nice,” he said, settling in the armchair reserved for her visitors, stretching out his long legs in a relaxed fashion before him.

  Suddenly Megan found she was ridiculously nervous and it was with a great effort that she poured the tea and milk and passed him the sugar, feeling that if she relaxed one iota the cup would clatter uncontrollably around in the saucer.

  Giles Elliott sipped his tea appreciatively, watching Megan’s slim figure in her dark blue Sister’s uniform, her trim waist emphasised by the wide belt with its silver buckle, her cloud of unruly dark hair caught up in an attempt at a severe bun. “I like you better with your hair down,” he said suddenly.

  Megan blushed, her long dark brown lashes fluttering onto the delicate curve of her cheeks. “I have to make an effort to look efficient,” she replied as coolly as possible, “even if sometimes I’m not.”

  “Really? From what I’ve seen you appear to be extremely efficient. Sister Moore, the night Sister,
seems to be excellent too.” Megan raised her expressive brown eyes to his, momentarily pausing in the process of pouring herself a cup of tea. She was amazed—she had been thinking that he disapproved of the way everything was organised.

  He laughed, accurately reading her expression. “Just because I might grumble a little doesn’t mean to say that I don’t like the way things are done here. In fact, I think they are done very well.”

  “Grumble a little!” Megan interrupted without stopping to think. “You were absolutely dreadful yesterday. You had everybody shivering in their shoes!” Even as she spoke she could have bitten out her tongue—it wasn’t the politest thing to say.

  But Giles Elliott didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he laughed again. “I didn’t notice you shivering in your shoes,” he said. His deep voice had a teasing note to it.

  “I’m not the shivering-in-the-shoes type,” replied Megan, unable to resist the impulse to smile at him. She finished pouring her tea and made to move to sit behind her desk.

  “No, don’t sit there, sit here,” he commanded, indicating the chair beside his. “If you sit behind your desk I shall be the one shivering in my shoes; I shall feel as if I’m being interviewed.”

  This time Megan laughed out loud disbelievingly. “Now, if there is one thing I am certain you would never do,” she said, “it’s that you wouldn’t shiver in your shoes for anyone.”

  He smiled. “You’re right,” he acknowledged. “We are two of a kind in that respect.” He patted the chair beside him again. “So come and sit here and we can chat for five minutes, then I’ll examine your wrist. I see you have the support bandage on. Good girl.”

  Megan perched uneasily on the chair next to him. He crossed one long leg over the other in a completely relaxed fashion, but she felt anything but relaxed. Quite the opposite, in fact. The proximity of his masculine presence was distinctly unnerving. She felt him looking at her and reluctantly she felt the power of his gaze drawing her eyes to his. She raised her large brown eyes to meet his blue ones. The blue of his eyes seemed strangely dark and his intent look was almost hypnotic. Unaccountably Megan’s throat felt dry and she swallowed nervously as he ensnared her with his gaze.

  “Megan,” he said softly, “tell me something.”

  “Yes, what is it?” She heard her voice answering him and it sounded miles away, as if it belonged to somebody else. The unfathomable expression in his eyes was sending unfamiliar feathery ripples along the length of her spine, ending in a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The teacup was held unheeded in her hind as a feeling of bewilderment engulfed her. Her heart beat rapidly out of control and her pulses raced violently. If I feel like this when he just looks at me, what would I feel like if he kissed me? The thought crossed her mind fleetingly.

  He lowered his eyes and took another sip of his tea, breaking the spell he had held over her.

  “Do you mind if I call you by your first name?” he asked.

  Megan felt vaguely surprised. It was not the question she had been expecting, but then on the other hand she was not really sure what she had been expecting.

  “No, of course not,” she tried to answer in a matter of fact tone, making sure that all her wild imaginings of the previous few moments were not reflected in her voice.

  “And you must call me Giles,” he said. He finished his tea, eased his long frame out of the chair and stood up. “How about coming out to dinner with me tonight?” he asked. “Unless, of course, you have a regular male friend who would strongly object.”

  “No, I don’t have any particular boyfriend,” answered Megan quickly, surprised at his invitation, “but I’m afraid I do have another rehearsal for the medical students’ Christmas revue.”

  “Oh yes, the Christmas revue.” Was it her imagination or did that disapproving look flit across his face again?

  “I know you may think it’s a bit silly, and it probably is, but it does provide a lot of people with some well-earned laughter,” she heard herself saying defensively.

  “I didn’t say I thought it was silly,” he replied, raising his eyebrows expressively.

  Megan stood and took his teacup from him. “You didn’t have to,” she answered. “It was written all over your face.”

  “I see,” was all he said, but his voice held a pensive note. Then, as Megan started to open the door for him, he stopped. “One moment—I was going to look at your wrist, wasn’t I?”

  “Oh…really, there is no need,” faltered Megan, his closeness sending those delicious shivers up and down her spine again. Hastily she put her bandaged wrist behind her. “It’s quite all right,” she muttered.

  “Doctor knows best,” he said, an amused glimmer in his blue eyes as he reached a long arm around her to grasp her bandaged wrist.

  Megan’s heart stopped in its tracks, or at least for a moment she thought it had. His dark face was so close to hers and the steely blue of his eyes still had that enigmatic colour, a dark warm colour evoking thoughts of passion. Megan swallowed hard, her throat dry. She felt herself swaying towards him and involuntarily she parted her delicate pink lips, craving to feel the warmth of his firm mouth on hers.

  It was with an enormous feeling of anticlimax that she watched him as he took the bandage from her wrist. Fool, she told herself fiercely, just because he asked you out to dinner, and just because his eyes are a fascinating shade of blue, doesn’t mean that he is interested in a little nobody like you. Be sensible. A wealthy, handsome man like him must have plenty of women in tow. He’s probably married, anyway, and just has nothing to do this evening.

  He, for his part, kept his head lowered while he made a careful and thorough examination of her wrist, so she was unable to see his expression.

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly when he had finished. “Thank you also for your invitation. I’m sorry I had to decline.”

  “Are you?” he answered wryly, opening the door to her office. “Some other time then, perhaps.”

  “Yes, that would be nice,” replied Megan non-commitally. She busied herself needlessly with the teacups, anything to avoid catching his disturbing gaze again.

  “I’ll say goodbye for today,” he said. “I have a consultant’s meeting to attend now and you’ll be off duty by the time it is finished.” He paused in the doorway. “I hope you enjoy your rehearsal, Megan.”

  “I’m sure I shall,” answered Megan, but the words sounded hollow in her ears. She would have much rather gone out to dinner with him instead. “Goodnight,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Giles,” he prompted.

  Against her will Megan was forced to look up. Even though physically now they were separated, the look from his blue eyes still sent her pulses racing. “Giles,” she repeated slowly, being rewarded by that sudden devastating smile that did dangerous things to her heart.

  After he had gone she stared at the cream-painted wood of the door pensively, wondering about him. He seemed such an unpredictable character. Stand-offish one moment, friendly the next, but above all physically attractive in the extreme. Megan knew that she had to be very careful; it would be easy to fall in love with a man like Giles Elliot.

  No point in allowing yourself luxurious thoughts like that, she told herself firmly. He’s almost certainly married and only asked you out because he has just moved down here from London and left his family up there. The more she thought about him, the more she realised that, apart from knowing he had a beautiful house in Cheyne Walk, she knew absolutely nothing else about his personal life.

  Try as she might she simply couldn’t concentrate at rehearsal that evening. “Megan,” grumbled Richard, “you are hopeless tonight.”

  “I know,” apologised Megan guiltily. “I’m sorry, I’m rather tired and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate.”

  She was very pleased, therefore, when the rest of them decided to call a halt ear
lier than usual, and she declined an offer to go with them to the students’ bar. Sometimes she went for Richard’s sake, but it always made her feel positively geriatric, all the students were so young.

  However, although she had declined Richard’s offer, Megan felt restless and not in the least bit like going back to her minute flat in the nurses’ block. As she hadn’t seen Susan since their meal together she decided to take a chance and call on her. It would be someone to have a gossip with.

  Turning up her coat collar against the cold, and digging her mittened hands deep into her pockets, Megan hurried along towards the tower block after she had parked her car. She had completely forgotten that Susan was still unaware that the stranger she had thought to be a locum had turned out to be the new Casualty Consultant at the County General. On arrival at the tower block she made straight for Susan’s flat, and to her delight Susan was there and feeling as restless as Megan.

  “I know,” said Susan, “don’t take your coat off. I’ll put mine on and we’ll go up to the Woodpecker for a drink. Do us both good to get away from here.”

  Megan agreed. Somehow the small rooms of the tower block flats seemed extra claustrophobic that evening. The two girls made their way out of the hospital grounds and up the steep hill towards the hospital local, the Woodpecker. Megan told Susan about Giles Elliott, although she omitted to mention the fact that she thought he was extremely attractive, and she certainly didn’t mention that her heart did strange things whenever he came near her!

  “What is he like?” Susan demanded to know.

  “A real stickler for perfection when it comes to work, I can tell you,” replied Megan. “He put the fear of God into everyone on his first day, but he seems to have eased off a little since then. Now that he has finally realised that we are not all complete imbeciles,” she added.

  “I must find some excuse to come down to Casualty,” said Susan. “I’m dying to see this man. Fancy you being treated by your own consultant!” She went into peals of laughter at the thought. “You were his first casualty from the County General, only he didn’t know it at the time.”