The Italian Doctor's Wife. Sarah Morgan

audience of thousands, from what I can gather. I hope he’s got steady hands.’

      She stroked a hand over Rosa’s head, marvelling at how silky her dark hair was. ‘You promise to call me if you’re worried about her? Even if she’s just a bit off colour—’

      ‘For crying out loud, Abby!’ Karen gave her an exasperated look and waved a hand towards the door. ‘Just go, will you? She’ll be fine!’

      Abby gave a faltering smile, cast a last longing look at her daughter and then forced herself to leave the brightly decorated crèche and make her way up to the paediatric surgical ward where she worked. As usual she had a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.

      She hated leaving Rosa so much.

      It was like a physical wrench that didn’t seem to get any easier with time. Given the chance, she would have spent every moment of every day just playing with her daughter and cuddling her but circumstances made that impossible. She had to work. Fortunately she loved her job and knew how lucky she was to work on such a respected unit. She found the field of paediatric cardiac surgery stimulating and absorbing and she knew that once she arrived on the ward she’d put thoughts of Rosa to one side and concentrate instead on the sick children and worried parents who needed her care.

      And in a way Karen was right, she reassured herself firmly as she pressed the button for the lift. Plenty of parents worked and their children didn’t suffer for it.

      She took comfort from the fact that Rosa was a happy, sociable child and being with the other children in the crèche provided her with an important source of stimulation.

      As the lift doors opened she straightened her uniform and checked that her long blonde hair was securely fastened.

      ‘Hi, Abby.’ Heather, the ward sister, greeted her with a warm smile and gestured towards the side room. ‘The Woods are biting their nails to the quick in there. Fortunately we’re well staffed today so you should be able to concentrate on them and give them all the support they need.’ She glanced around furtively and lowered her voice. ‘And maybe you’d better check they understand everything that’s happening. Mr Forster had a brief chat with them before he left but you know what he was like, poor thing. He never had any time for the parents and he was hopeless at explaining anything. They looked more confused when he came out than they did when he went in.’

      Abby gave a wry smile. One of their consultants, Mr Forster, had just taken early retirement on the grounds of ill health, but it was widely rumoured that he had just been finding the job too stressful. It was certainly true that he’d always been hopeless at explaining. He used the same terminology that he used with his medical team so his patients never understood him. ‘Perhaps the new surgeon will set an example.’

      ‘Let’s hope so. Thomas should be first on the list tomorrow and our Italian whiz-kid should be up later to talk to them.’

      Abby’s blue eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Whiz-kid’ seemed a strange description for someone with such an awesome reputation who was doubtless crusty and grey-haired. She’d never met the man in question but she was sure that he’d long ago outgrown the ‘whiz-kid’ title.

      Making her way to the side room, she tapped on the door and walked in.

      Lorna Wood had Thomas on her lap and he was dozing quietly.

      ‘Hi, there.’ Abby’s voice was hushed so that she didn’t disturb the baby and Lorna looked up, her face pale.

      ‘Oh, Abby, I’m so pleased to see you.’

      ‘How are you doing?’

      Not very well, by the look of her, but, then, that was hardly surprising in the circumstances. Abby couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d feel if it was Rosa who was about to have major heart surgery.

      Lorna pulled a face. ‘I feel awful. Worried, panicky…’ She spoke in an undertone, careful not to wake the sleeping baby. ‘But mostly I feel guilty.’

      ‘Guilty?’ Abby’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she closed the door behind her. ‘Why guilty?’

      The young mother shrugged helplessly. ‘Because Thomas seems fine most of the time and I’m asking myself if all this is necessary. Am I doing the right thing by letting him have the op?’ Lorna glanced at her, her eyes filling as she begged for answers. ‘I know they keep telling me that he’ll get worse, but why not wait until it happens? Why do the operation now?’

      More evidence that Mr Forster’s explanations had been less than perfect, Abby thought, hoping that the new consultant would have a better way with words. With Mr Forster they’d virtually had to provide a translation.

      ‘I know that Thomas seems well, but waiting might damage the heart further,’ she said quietly, and Lorna bit her lip.

      ‘But how do we know that for sure?’

      Abby took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I think you need to talk it through with the surgeon who is going to do the operation,’ she suggested. ‘He’s coming to see Thomas later. I’ll make sure that he knows that you’re worried so that he finds time to answer your questions.’

      Clearly, concisely and in language that could be understood by normal mortals!

      Lorna shrank slightly in her seat. ‘I don’t want to bother him,’ she said quickly. ‘He’s an important man and I’m the least of his worries.’

      ‘You won’t be bothering him,’ Abby said firmly, used to dealing with that type of attitude. She’d lost count of the times patients had told her they refrained from asking questions because they didn’t want to bother the doctor. ‘If there are things you don’t understand then you must ask!’

      Lorna pulled a face. ‘I find doctors really intimidating. Especially surgeons who can operate on a child’s heart.’ Her eyes were round with admiration. ‘I mean, can you imagine being clever enough to do something like that? I always feel as though my questions are stupid and I’m wasting their time. Mr Forster has explained everything to me once. It isn’t his fault if I’m too stupid to understand.’

      ‘You’re not stupid, Lorna,’ Abby said firmly, making a mental note to brief the new consultant fully. He needed to spend time with the Woods. And he needed to use simple language. ‘If it would make you feel better, I’ll make sure I’m there, too. And I’ll make sure that he doesn’t leave the room until you’ve asked him every question you have and fully understand what’s happening.’

      ‘This whole thing feels like a nightmare. I just wish this was all a dream and I could wake up,’ Lorna muttered, and Abby leaned forward and gave her a quick hug.

      ‘The worst part is the waiting.’ She looked at the sleeping child and smiled. ‘I need to do his obs—you know, temperature, pulse that sort of thing—but I’ll wait for him to wake up. Later on I want to take you to the cardiac intensive care unit—we call it CICU—so that you know what to expect when Thomas comes back from Theatre.’

      Lorna bit her lip. ‘Is it very scary?’

      ‘It can seem scary,’ Abby said, her tone gentle. She knew how important it was to be honest with parents and to prepare them for what lay ahead. ‘You know that when he first comes back from Theatre he’ll have a tube down his throat to help him breathe and a drain in his chest, as well as a drip. The monitors can seem very high-tech and daunting but the staff on CICU are wonderful and I know they’ll take good care of you and Thomas. We’ve a baby who has just had a similar operation to Thomas on the unit at the moment so I can show you what to expect and you can chat to the parents.’

      ‘And after CICU he’ll come back here to the ward?’

      ‘Once the doctors feel he’s well enough, they’ll transfer him back here.’

      Lorna cuddled the sleeping child closer. ‘And will you still be the nurse looking after us? You’re always so calm. Nothing seems to make you flap—the minute you walk into the room I feel less