Her Real Family Christmas. Kate Hardy

And then today she started feeling really rough, had a headache she couldn’t shift and swollen ankles. Her community midwife sent her in to us, and her blood pressure had spiked and there was protein in her urine. Daniel wasn’t happy with the baby’s heartbeat and so he brought her straight up here.’

      Daniel, Stephanie presumed, was the surgeon. She knew that the only cure for pre-eclampsia was to deliver the baby. ‘How many weeks is she?’ she asked.

      ‘Thirty-six.’

      So there was a good chance that the baby’s lungs had matured enough, though the baby might still need little bit of help breathing and some oxygen treatment after the birth.

      ‘Is there anything else I need to know?’ she asked.

      ‘That’s the only complication,’ the midwife said.

      Though, as complications went, that one was more than enough; Stephanie was aware of all the potential problems for the baby, from low blood sugar through to patent ductus arteriosis, a problem where the blood vessel that allowed the blood to go through a baby’s lungs before birth didn’t close properly and caused abnormal blood flow in the heart. She’d just have to hope that the baby didn’t have a really rough ride.

      Once the baby was delivered and the cord was cut, Stephanie quickly checked him over. His heart rate and breathing were both a little on the low side, and his hands and feet were slightly bluish, but to her relief his muscle tone was good and he grimaced and cried. And he was a good weight, too; that would help him cope better.

      She wrapped him in a clean cloth and brought him over to his mother.

      ‘I think you deserve a cuddle after all that hard work,’ she said. ‘He’s a beautiful boy. Now, I do want to take him up to the special care unit for a little while, because he needs a little bit of help breathing—but that’s because he’s a bit early and it’s really common, so please don’t start worrying that anything’s desperately wrong. You’ll be able to see him in the unit any time you like, and I’ll be around if you have any questions.’

      ‘Thank you,’ the mum whispered.

      By the time Stephanie had sorted out the baby’s admission to the special care unit, the surgeon had finished sewing up the mum and she’d been wheeled off to the recovery room.

      The surgeon came over to her, removing his mask. ‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Daniel—’

      ‘Mr Connor,’ she said as she looked up And recognised him.

      He was the last person she’d expected to be here. And to think she’d been so careful to explain his daughter’s condition. What an idiot she’d made of herself. As a doctor, of course he would’ve known the biology—especially as he was clearly senior to her, being a surgeon.

      She shook herself and switched into professional mode. ‘How’s your little girl?’

      ‘She’s fine, thanks.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I feel a bit ashamed of myself now for panicking as much as I did. And I’m sorry. I really should’ve told you I was a doctor.’

      So he felt as awkward as she did? Maybe this was salvageable, then. Which was good, because the chances were that they’d have to work together in the future. She wanted to keep all her work relationships as smooth as possible. ‘It’s not a problem. I think any parent panics when their child can’t breathe properly, and it’s probably worse when you’re a doctor because you know all the potential complications—it’s scary stuff.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘But I am sorry for drawing you that diagram. It was pretty much teaching you to suck eggs.’

      He laughed. ‘Don’t apologise. It was a great analogy, and I needed to hear it right then. Actually, I’m glad you’re on the paediatrics team. I wondered at the time if you were a locum.’

      ‘No, I was rostered on the paediatric assessment unit. Rhys Morgan had it moved to the emergency department at about the same time that I joined the team.’ She looked at him, surprised. ‘Why are you pleased I’m in paediatrics?’

      ‘Because, if you were a locum, I was going to ask Theo Petrakis—my boss—to put you on the list for Neonatal. You’re good with panicky parents,’ he said simply, ‘and I can say that from first-hand experience.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Perhaps I can buy you a coffee later today?’ he said.

      Coffee? Was he asking her as colleague, or as a grateful parent, or as a potential date? Stephanie couldn’t quite read the signals and it filled her with panic. Especially as she didn’t know what his situation was. No way did she want to get in the slightest bit involved with a colleague who wasn’t free.

      Actually, she didn’t want to get involved, full stop. Once bitten, definitely twice shy. It was safest to keep people pigeonholed as patients or colleagues, the way she’d done ever since her divorce. ‘There’s no need, really. I was just doing my job.’ Flustered, she added, ‘I’d better get back to my department.’

      ‘Sure. Nice to see you again, Stephanie,’ he said.

      ‘You, too,’ she said, and fled before she made even more of an idiot of herself.

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘STEPHANIE? YOU’VE GOT visitors,’ Lynne, one of the senior paediatric nurses, said. ‘They’re waiting at the nurses’ station for you.’

      Visitors? Stephanie wasn’t expecting anyone. Everyone she knew in London either worked with her or lived in the same block of flats. And Joe definitely wouldn’t have come down to London to see her, to check she’d settled in OK to her new job and her new life. After the wreck of their marriage, they couldn’t even be friends.

      She’d walked out on him because she’d seen the blame in his eyes and his contempt for her every time he’d looked at her, and she just hadn’t been able to live with it. That, and the knowledge that he was right about her. That she was a selfish woman who wouldn’t know how to put a family first because she was useless at being part of a family.

      Well, hey. Now wasn’t the time for a pity party.

      She saved the file, then headed out to the nurses’ station. As she drew nearer, she recognised Daniel Connor and his daughter waiting there.

      ‘Hello, Dr Scott,’ Mia said shyly, and handed her a hand-drawn card and a paper plate covered with cling film. ‘I made these for you and the nurses to say thank you for looking after me.’

      Cupcakes, painstakingly decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

      Gifts from patients weren’t encouraged, but a home-made card and cupcakes from a little girl were definitely acceptable. Especially as Stephanie could see that these were meant to be shared with the other staff who’d helped to look after her.

      Stephanie crouched down so she was nearer Mia’s level. ‘Thank you very much, Mia. The card’s beautiful and the cakes look lovely. Did your mummy help you make them?’

      ‘No, Nanna Parker helped me.’ There was just the tiniest wobble of her bottom lip. ‘My mummy’s in heaven.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephanie said softly. She’d hurt the little girl with her assumption, and she’d misjudged Daniel. He’d clearly been through the mill. She wasn’t going to ask whether he’d lost his wife to illness or accident; either way would still have left a gaping hole in his and Mia’s lives.

      And now she understood exactly why he’d flinched when she’d asked if Mia’s mum wanted to stay overnight with the little girl. It explained why he’d been so frantic about his daughter’s deteriorating health, too; clearly Mia was all Daniel had left of her mother. Her heart bled for them. It would be bad enough losing someone you loved; how much worse would it be, losing someone who loved you back?