A Mother by Nature. Caroline Anderson

I can spare you ten minutes. The notes are in there still.’

      She settled down in her chair, her knees propped up on the edge of the desk, her uniform trousers protecting her modesty. ‘Tell me about Karl first,’ she prompted, trying to concentrate on something other than his long, lean legs stretched out across the floor in her office and the casual way he slouched against her desk.

      ‘Karl? Oh, the lad yesterday. Robert let me assist—it was interesting. We plated it. When we got in there it was quite obvious that the bone had made no attempt to heal. The main reason seemed to be that it had rotated out of alignment, so we had to break the ulna as well to correct the rotation so we could line it all up properly. We plated both just to be on the safe side. It should be a better shape than it was before, anyway, so in a strange way it might have done him a favour. How is he now?’

      ‘Bit groggy. Quieter than yesterday, I gather. I think he had quite a good night. Was it very traumatic to the tissues?’

      He shrugged. ‘Fairly. I would expect it to be quite sore for a day or two. It was obviously quite a nasty break—I had a look at the earlier plates. It seems likely that he tried to do too much too soon and twisted it out of position inside the cast. By the time it was noticed, it was too late.’

      ‘That’s what you get for trying to fix an active young hellion conservatively,’ Anna said with a smile. ‘They need everything screwed together because they all want a quick fix.’

      ‘Everybody wants a quick fix,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I think my au pair’s going to want a quick fix. I confronted her with the phone bill this morning and she announced she wanted to go home. I bribed her by offering to forget the phone bill if she’d stay until I’d got a replacement.’

      ‘And?’

      He shrugged. ‘She says she’ll stay—for now, at least.’

      Anna felt a pang of sympathy. ‘Was it horrendous?’ she asked, and he rolled his eyes.

      ‘Try four figures.’

      Anna’s jaw dropped. For the life of her she couldn’t conceive of finding time to build up a phone bill that huge, never mind having anyone she wanted to talk to that much!

      Well. Maybe that wasn’t true—not any more. She could imagine curling up in the evening and having long, cosy chats to this man—

      ‘Let’s talk about your afternoon list,’ she said, dragging herself back to earth hastily. ‘Who have you got that I know?’

      ‘A baby with congenital club foot? David Chisholm. I think he’s been in here. He’s about eighteen months.’

      Anna thought for a moment. ‘David—yes, he has. I remember him. He’s had a couple of ops already to let out the short structures on the inside of the legs. He was very bad—worst case I’ve seen, I think, not that we’ve had that many. I thought they’d got quite a good result?’

      Adam nodded. ‘That’s right, but he needs another op because he’s grown and the feet are turning in again.’

      ‘Aren’t they splinting it?’

      He nodded again. ‘Yes, but it’s not keeping up. I’m going to release the tendons again—it’s fairly rare, of course, so you don’t tend to get that much practice at this sort of thing, but we’re learning new ways of dealing with it. Sadly, it’s never going to be quite normal, of course, and I haven’t met the parents yet so I don’t know what their expectations are.’

      ‘High, I think. Most parents’ expectations are high. They think we can sort out everything.’

      ‘Well, I’ll certainly try my best, but I’m only human,’ he said with a wry smile, and her heart hiccuped. Only human’s fine by me, she wanted to tell him, but she was being silly again.

      One smile! she thought crossly. One smile and you keel over and submit! You’d make a good dog.

      Anna tried to pay attention—she really did—but it was hard. In the end she was rescued by the arrival of a new admission, and she went to deal with him and escaped from the intoxicating and mind-bending cosiness of her office. She was busy for the rest of the day, rushed off her feet for most of it, and by the end of it she was feeling ragged.

      Then Adam walked onto the ward, still in Theatre scrubs, and her heart did that silly thing all over again and she wanted to kick herself.

      ‘Hi,’ he said, his voice soft and low. Shivers ran down her back, and she forced herself to ignore them.

      ‘Hi, yourself,’ she said with what she hoped was a friendly smile and not an infatuated drool. ‘How was your list?’

      ‘OK. A couple are in SCBU, but you should have the rest. How’s little David?’

      ‘Sick and sore, I think. Well, probably more uncomfortable than sore. His mother’s with him, but she’s pregnant again and she’s finding it quite wearing. I keep sending my nurses to rescue her so she can go and have a cup of tea, but she won’t let me.’

      ‘Is she staying all night?’

      Anna nodded. ‘Yes. She needs to rest, but she won’t leave him till he settles.’

      ‘Can I have a quick look?’ he asked.

      ‘Sure. He’s over here.’

      They went over to the baby and his mother and, as Anna had expected, the little boy was propped up against her shoulder, grizzling gently, and she was rubbing his back and making soothing noises. They weren’t working.

      ‘Hello, Mrs Chisholm,’ Adam said, hunkering down to her level and smiling at her with that special smile. ‘How are things?’

      ‘Oh—hello, Doctor. I’m so glad you’ve come. Not too bad. How was it? Have you been able to do it?’

      ‘It was OK,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I’ve managed to get quite a bit of length on the tendons, so we were able to get his feet into a more normal position in the casts. He’ll be a bit miserable for a day or so, but we’re giving him plenty of pain relief so he’s not really hurting. Once the first few days are over you’ll find he’s walking much better. May I have a look?’

      She held the little boy out, and Adam took him and straightened.

      ‘Hello again, young man. Can I have a look at your feet?’ he said softly, his smile gentle. The baby rested sleepily against him with a little whimper, and Adam soothed him automatically before laying him down in the cot.

      His movements were sure and practised, Anna thought. You could tell he was a father. His hand brushed the baby’s head, smoothing back the damp, ruffled hair that clung to his brow, and quickly he scanned the boy’s legs with his eyes.

      ‘I’m checking the colour and warmth of his toes and that the dressings you can see through these windows in the casts aren’t showing signs of leaking of the wounds,’ he explained. ‘Perhaps you could keep an eye on that for us, as you’re here. It’s possible the legs might swell after a little while, but we’ll keep a constant check, and if you notice anything different, perhaps you could tell us.’

      She nodded. ‘Of course.’

      ‘He looks fine at the moment,’ he went on, raising his voice over the baby’s unhappy protests. ‘I’m pleased. He seems a bit grizzly, though. Perhaps he’s not that comfortable. We’ll give him something to settle him.’

      ‘I think he needs to sleep,’ Mrs Chisholm said, ‘but every time I put him down he cries, and I don’t like to disturb the other children.’

      ‘Don’t worry about the other children,’ Anna hastened to assure her. ‘He won’t cry for long. He’s dead beat. He’ll go off in seconds if you can just bear to let him cry.’

      ‘I just feel so mean,’ she said, clearly torn.

      ‘Perhaps you should go and get something to eat