The Surgeon's Miracle Baby. Carol Marinelli

she had met Daniel Ashwood.

      If that brief flirting during the ward round hadn’t led to a drink, followed by dinner, followed by…

      Louise coloured up just at memory, still stunned, all this time later, that she’d tumbled, literally tumbled into bed with him that very night. At the time it had felt so right—the attraction so intense, so completely overwhelming that their first date couldn’t have ended any other way. It had been like opening the door to paradise, Louise recalled, but, watching as Elaine giggled girlishly at something one of the consultants had said, a rather nasty smile twisted on her lips. Elaine should be very careful what she wished for—even paradise had its drawbacks!

      Danny Ashwood.

      Staring down at her handover notes—even though she knew it couldn’t possibly be him, there was some strange comfort to be had just seeing the name in print—and till she opened the door and confirmed that it was a different person entirely, it was nice to dream for a moment, nice to hold onto that tiny sliver of fantasy that Daniel was close.

      For goodness’ sake, Louise chided herself for even daring to go there. Daniel Ashwood was the last person she wanted to see right now—the very last person she needed complicating her life! Deciding to put herself out of her misery, Louise took action and stood up, heading for the shelf of nursing notes, only to find bed 3’s wasn’t there. Perhaps they were being used for the ward round, but no. Louise frowned, because only bed 3’s slot was empty. All the other nursing files were neatly in place.

      Well, she’d just go right ahead and look, Louise decided, just pop her head around the door and ask if everything was OK. Then she could put this stupid fantasy to bed, put Daniel Ashwood firmly out of her mind—where he belonged.

      ‘Did Danny buzz?’

      Her hand on the door, jumping as if she’d been caught stealing, Louise froze as Elaine bustled over.

      ‘Sorry.’ Louise forced an apologetic smile. ‘I got the rooms mixed up. I thought this was Room 4. I was just going to strip the bed now that the patient’s gone home.’

      ‘Then it’s just as well I stopped you. Danny needs his rest. You’re to let me know if he buzzes and I’ll attend to him. I’ve just called the orderly to come and prepare Room 4—there’s going to be a new admission direct from Theatre, a twenty-two-year-old male with a stab wound to the loin. That’s all the information I have. I’ll let you know more when I find out.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Louise answered easily but her mind was working overtime as she bade farewell to ‘Danielle’ and tried to fathom Elaine’s rather proprietorial response—consoling herself that Elaine had been exactly the same about Jordan. However, for the rest of the morning it was as if the room taunted her. Her obsession with the patient behind the firmly closed door grew, because even if her Daniel was safely setting the world on fire in London, this one was clearly something special, too, because it took a trip to the loo, a squirt or perfume and a fresh coat of lipstick for Elaine to even go and take his temperature.

      Still, at least Louise had something to do now. Once Room 4 had been cleaned by the orderly, she set about preparing it for the new admission, bringing in the observation trolley and making the bed.

      ‘Getting a new one?’ Shona asked, coming in and taking over one side of the bed, both nurses chatting as they tucked in the sheets and blankets in unison.

      ‘Stab wound to the loin,’ Louise said. ‘He’s in Theatre now.’ They worked in silence till Louise could take it no more—if she didn’t find out, then quite simply she’d burst! ‘What’s wrong with the patient next door?’ Louise asked as casually as she could, hiding her blush as she stuffed a pillow into its case and took great interest in plumping it up. ‘I nearly went in by mistake and Elaine said that if the patient even buzzed then she was to be told—is he being barrier-nursed?’

      ‘Oh, no.’ Shona laughed. ‘Nothing like that. Elaine probably thinks it fitting that only the most senior staff look after him—he’s one of our consultants.’

      ‘The patient in Room 3?’ Louise croaked.

      ‘Yep.’ Shona nodded. ‘I think Elaine’s trying to dazzle him with a bit of TLC, but she can spray as much perfume and put on as much lipstick as she likes, that’s one nut she’s not going to crack…’ She let out a peel of laughter. ‘Pardon the pun.’

      ‘You’ve lost me.’

      ‘Oh, that’s right, you missed handover, didn’t you?’ Shona checked there was no one around and then leant over the bed and spoke in a low, delighted whisper. ‘Well, just in case you do end up going in there, you’d better know that he isn’t really abdo pain for investigation—he had a rather painful injury playing cricket yesterday! The Ashwood family jewels are as black as coal, but thankfully saved and in full working order!’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘He had a torsion of the testes, the poor guy!’ Shona winced and grinned at the same time, crossing her legs as just the thought of it! ‘Very nasty. He was operated on yesterday afternoon, then had to return for drainage of a haematoma—he only got back from his second op at six this morning. All the poor guy wants, no doubt, is to go home, not spend the morning flirting. More’s the pity, mind you—he’s gorgeous!’

      ‘I used to work with a consultant by that name—well, he was called Daniel…’ Louise’s heart was hammering in her chest as she spoke, torn between hope and dread. ‘Mind you, that was in London. There must be loads of doctors…’

      ‘Danny’s from London,’ Shona shrugged. ‘He’s on a year’s rotation here—maybe it is him!’ Oblivious to Louise’s expression, she glanced around the room. ‘I’ll go and get a gown for the new admission and a kidney dish, then you might as well go for your coffee-break before the new admission comes up.’

      As surely as if a cricket ball had hit her at high speed, Louise felt as if the wind had literally been knocked out of her, could feel her scarlet cheeks paling as the blood literally drained from her face. Shaking, she lowered herself onto the newly made bed and buried her face in her hands, still, at the eleventh hour, trying to reassure herself that it was a simple mistake, that the man in the next room wasn’t really Daniel.

      And wondering how on earth she’d cope if indeed it was!

      ‘Jordan needs suctioning urgently.’ One of the student nurses came racing down the corridor, looking more than a little alarmed. ‘His chest sounds terrible.’

      Instantly Louise snapped to attention, her personal dilemma completely pushed aside as she heard the note of urgency in the student’s voice. ‘What happened?’ Louise asked, as she made her way swiftly down the ward, because even though it was Elaine’s patient, a tracheostomy patient with breathing difficulties couldn’t wait for anyone. ‘Who’s in with him?’

      ‘Just me,’ the student started, her voice trailing off as she realised the folly of her ways as she said the words out loud. Louise would need to talk to her about it later. Now wasn’t the time or place to tell her never to leave a patient who had difficulty breathing distressed and unattended. Bracing herself for what she might find, hearing his distress from halfway down the corridor, Louise flew the last few steps.

      ‘It’s OK, Jordan.’ Louise’s voice was reassuring as she entered the room, straight away pushing the call bell for further assistance. Pulling on a pair of gloves, she carefully checked his tracheostomy, relieved to see that it was securely in place. From her handover sheet, Louise knew that Jordan had been in a high-impact motor-vehicle accident two months previously—a mixture of booze, dope and high jinks had almost ended his life. Along with abdominal injuries, he had suffered head and facial injuries. The facial injuries had compromised his airway, necessitating a tracheostomy, which he was being weaned off. But the tracheostomy tube could sometimes fall out or, as was the case in this instance, as Louise immediately decided after a brief assessment, a patient’s airway could become blocked with a mucous plug. Jordan still had air entry, his chest was moving on inspiration, but the air entry was