Red-Hot Desert Docs. Carol Marinelli

laughed. She understood Adele’s slightly off-the-wall humour. ‘You got the bus, then.’

      ‘Yes, I got the bus.’

      Chatter break over, they got back to business.

      ‘Adele, you really need to take some annual leave.’

      Janet placed the annual leave roster in front of her and Adele frowned as Janet explained. ‘Admin don’t like us to hold too much over and further you haven’t taken any in the time you’ve been here.’

      ‘Nice problem to have!’ Helene said.

      ‘What about September?’ Adele suggested, because there were several slots there and Janet nodded and pencilled a fortnight in then. ‘You need to take two weeks before that, though.’

      The trouble with that was it was now May. The upcoming summer months were all taken. In fact, a couple of months ago Adele had cancelled her leave when Helene had won a competition to take her perfect family on an overseas holiday.

      ‘How about the first two weeks of June?’ Janet suggested. ‘There’s a spot there.’

      ‘But that’s only three weeks away.’

      ‘That will give you time to book something last minute and cheap,’ Janet said. ‘I’ve been telling you to take some leave for ages, Adele.’

      She had been.

      ‘What might you do?’ Helene asked once Janet had gone.

      ‘I have no idea,’ Adele admitted.

      The truth was, even if she could afford to jet off to somewhere nice, she could not bear the thought of leaving behind her mum.

      And a fortnight without the routine of work wasn’t something that Adele wanted either.

      She didn’t like the flat where she lived, and, feeling guilty about acknowledging it to herself, neither did she want to spend even more time at the nursing home.

      Perhaps she could do some agency work and try to get enough money together to start looking for her own place.

      ‘How is Mr Richards now, Adele?’ Zahir asked about the patient whose notes she had been catching up on when the subject of annual leave had arisen.

      ‘He’s comfortable.’

      ‘And how are his obs?’

      ‘Stable,’ Adele said.

      Mr Richards was on half-hourly obs and they were due, oh, one and half minutes from now.

      Basically, Zahir was prompting her to do them.

      Well, she didn’t need him to remind her, as he so often did, but she said nothing and hopped down from her stool.

      Mr Richards had unstable angina and as she did the observations Adele smiled down at the old man, who was all curled up under his blanket and grumbling as the blood-pressure cuff inflated.

      ‘I want to sleep.’

      ‘I know that you do,’ Adele said, ‘but we need to keep a close eye on you for now.’

      His blood pressure had gone up and his heart rate was elevated. ‘Do you have any pain at the moment?’ Adele asked.

      ‘None, or I wouldn’t have, if you’d just let me sleep.’

      Adele went to tell Zahir about the changes but was halted by a very elegant woman. She had a ripple of long black hair that trailed down her back and she was wearing a stunning, deep navy, floor-length robe that was intricately embroidered with flowers of gold. Around her throat was a gold choker and set in it was a huge ruby.

      She was simply the most stunning woman Adele had ever seen.

      ‘I am to meet with Zahir...’ she said to Adele. ‘Can you tell him that I am here?’

      Adele would usually ask who it was that wanted to speak with him but there was something so regal about her that she felt it would be rude to do so. As well as that, she had heard Zahir asking Phillip to cover him for a couple of hours as he and Dakan were taking their mother out for afternoon tea.

      This was surely his mother—the Queen.

      ‘I’ll just let him know.’

      There was only Zahir in the nurses’ station now. He was still on the computer but just signing off. ‘Zahir,’ Adele said.

      ‘Yes?’ He didn’t turn around.

      ‘There’s a lady here to see you. I think that it might be your mother.’

      ‘Thank you,’ he stood. ‘I shall take her around to my office. When Dakan comes, would you tell him where we are?’

      ‘Actually...’ Adele halted him. ‘I was just coming in to tell you that Mr Richards’s blood pressure and heart rate are raised.’

      ‘Does he have pain?’

      ‘He says not, he just wants to sleep.’

      ‘Okay.’ Zahir glanced at the chart she held out to him. ‘Could you take my mother to my office and have her wait there?’

      ‘Of course,’ Adele said. ‘What do I call her?’

      ‘I answer to Leila!’

      Adele turned and saw that Zahir’s mother had followed her into the nurses’ station. ‘I apologise.’ Adele smiled. ‘Let me take you through...’

      They walked through the department. Leila said how lovely it felt to be in London and to be able to go out with her sons for tea. ‘Things are far less formal here than they are back home,’ she explained. ‘I prefer not to use my title when I am here as people tend to stare.’

      They would stare anyway, Adele thought. Leila was seriously beautiful and it was as if she glided rather than walked alongside her.

      ‘I thought you’d have bodyguards,’ Adele said, and Leila gave a little laugh.

      ‘My driver is trained as one but he is waiting outside. I don’t need bodyguards when I have my sons close by.’

      ‘Zahir’s office is a little tucked away...’ Adele explained as they walked through the observation ward, but then she frowned as she realised that the Queen was no longer walking beside her.

      She turned around and saw that she was standing and had her fingers pressed into her forehead.

      ‘Are you okay?’ Adele checked.

      ‘I’m just a bit...’ Leila didn’t finish. Instead she drew in a deep breath and Adele could see that she was terribly pale. ‘Could you show me where the restroom is?’

      ‘It’s there,’ Adele said, and pointed her to the staff restroom. ‘I’ll just wait here for you, shall I?’

      Leila nodded and walked off and Adele waited for her to come out.

      And waited.

      Perhaps she was topping up her make-up, Adele decided, but then she thought about how pale Leila had suddenly gone and Adele was certain that she had been feeling dizzy.

      She was loath to interrupt her. After all, Leila was Zahir’s mother and she was also a queen.

      But, at the end of the day, she was a woman and Adele a nurse and she was starting to become concerned.

      Nursing instinct won.

      She pushed open the door and stepped in but there was no Leila at the sink washing her hands or doing her make-up. ‘Leila?’ Adele called into the silence.

      ‘Please help me...’ Leila’s voice came from behind the cubicle door.

      ‘It’s okay, I’m here.’ Adele took out the coin that she kept in her pocket for such times. She turned it in the slot and pushed open the door, relieved that it gave and that Leila wasn’t