Daring to Date Her Boss. Joanna Neil
‘I’d already decided I wanted a change.’
‘Wasn’t that a little irresponsible—to leave your job on a whim?’
She flattened her lips briefly. She wasn’t about to go into detail about her failed relationship. ‘Perhaps it was,’ she conceded, ‘but the way I saw it there’s pretty much always a need for emergency doctors in the UK.’
He nodded. ‘On the mainland, maybe. I think you’ll find there’s not quite the same demand out here, though.’
‘Yes, I’m starting to realise that.’ Her heart sank. This wasn’t going at all the way she’d hoped. From the doubts he was expressing it looked very much as though he didn’t want her for this job, and she could hardly blame him.
For someone as thorough and organised as Tyler Beckett it would go against the grain to take on a young woman who appeared to work on impulse and followed wherever her heart led.
She didn’t know how many people they had interviewed for this post, but she guessed she wasn’t the only candidate. There had been at least three names on the receptionist’s tick sheet.
‘I did have another job in mind in Cornwall at the time,’ she ventured, ‘and I was about to be interviewed for it, but all my plans had to change after the accident.’
Dr Gregson decided it was time to intervene. ‘With regard to the post you’re applying for here, you should understand that our work isn’t just centred on the hospital. We often travel to the islands to visit patients in emergency situations. In those circumstances, we use the ambulance boat to reach them.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She swallowed carefully. She’d said she’d be able to cope with the demands of the job, but going by boat wasn’t something she had bargained for. And yet it should have been fairly obvious to her that travelling between the islands was a necessity. Perhaps she’d simply tried not to think about it.
The trouble was, ever since she was a child she’d been plagued by seasickness—how could she possibly tell them that? If she owned up, there was absolutely no way she’d get the job.
‘Does that bother you?’ Tyler was watching her, a small frown indenting his brow. ‘You seem distracted somehow.’
She tried what she hoped was a convincing smile. ‘No, not at all. I’d be quite all right with that.’
Dr Gregson appeared satisfied. ‘Well, then, Dr Reynolds, my colleagues and I have one more person to interview before we get together to talk things through. We should be able to let you know our decision before the end of the morning, though. In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to look around our hospital—Janine, my secretary, will be happy to give you the grand tour. You might want to spend some time in the minor injuries unit to see how we do things there, and then familiarise yourself with the A and E department.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. I would. That’s a good idea.’ At least she could stay around until they were ready to announce their decision.
His secretary showed her around the different areas of the hospital, pointing out the new cardiovascular wing and the obstetrics department. They made light conversation along the way, but Saskia felt weighed down inside with defeat. In her imaginings things would have gone very differently.
‘We have a few inpatient beds here,’ Janine told her, ‘but we’re probably not at all like the hospitals you’ve been used to. Everything here is on a much smaller scale.’
Saskia nodded. ‘I’ve been impressed with what I’ve seen so far. It’s all exceptionally clean and efficient-looking.’
Finally, they arrived at the A and E department. There were a couple of resuscitation rooms, several treatment bays and an area where doctors could go to type up their notes or access computers.
‘I love the way this small area has been set apart for the younger patients,’ Saskia commented. ‘That mural must help to take their minds off their troubles, for a start.’
Janine smiled. ‘It’s great, isn’t it? Dr Beckett commissioned it from a relative of one of his patients. The children love trying to find the chicks hiding in the farmyard. And, of course, the ceiling mural helps distract them when they have to lie down.’
‘Yes, I imagine it does.’ It had been made to look like a vivid blue sky, with cotton-wool clouds, a mixed assembly of birds and colourful box kites to keep the children amused.
If only she could be so easily distracted. She sighed inwardly, thinking about the members of the interview panel who were most likely deciding her fate at that very moment. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch.
A nurse came over to them as they walked towards the nurses’ station. ‘Janine, I’ve been paging Dr Beckett—do you know if he’s in the hospital today? I haven’t seen him all morning and we’ve had a patient come in with an injury to his wrist. We need him to come and take a look at it.’
‘He’s definitely here. He’s been doing interviews since first thing, but they should be finished by now. I expect he’ll be along in a minute or two.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
Janine glanced at Saskia. ‘You might want to be in on this—see how we do things here.’
‘Are you sure?’ Saskia frowned. ‘I don’t want to get in the way.’
Janine shook her head. ‘I’m sure it won’t be a problem. We’re all very friendly and informal around here.’
‘You have a patient for me?’ Dr Beckett strode into the A and E unit, his manner brisk and ready for action. Saskia stiffened. Had the interview panel finished their discussion and come to a conclusion?
‘He’s in here,’ the triage nurse told him, pointing out one of the treatment rooms. ‘We’ve done X-rays and given him painkillers.’ She handed him the patient’s file.
‘Thanks.’ He glanced at the notes in the file, and then went over to the computer and studied the films. Frowning, he said, ‘I’ll need someone to assist. Who’s free?’
The nurse shook her head. ‘No one right now. I’m needed in several places at once, and as for the rest—we’re busy with an influx of patients just now. There was a minor explosion at a building site and we’ve had a number of casualties...something to do with a propane gas cylinder. Nothing dreadfully serious regarding casualties, thankfully, but some quite nasty burns.’
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘Okay, I suppose I’ll just have to wait until you can spare someone.’
Saskia said quickly, ‘I could help, if you want.’
He glanced at her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. If there’s anything at all I can do...’ She frowned. ‘I understand this man has a broken wrist. Was that something to do with the explosion?’
He shook his head. ‘Totally different, apparently. He came off his motorcycle while taking a bend too sharply.’
‘Oh, dear.’
They went into the treatment room, where they found a young man in his early twenties nursing a badly deformed wrist.
‘Well, Mason,’ Tyler said, pulling up a chair and carefully examining the man’s injury, ‘I could have told you even without looking at the X-rays that you’ve broken your wrist.’ He glanced at Saskia. ‘Have you seen this kind of fracture before?’
She nodded. ‘It’s a Smith’s fracture,’ she murmured, ‘and that’s a typical garden-spade deformity.’ She looked at Mason. ‘I expect you fell awkwardly off your bike and landed on the back of your hand. I suppose you can count yourself lucky you don’t have any other injuries—apart from cuts and grazes, that is.’
The young man gave her a rueful smile. ‘I guess I can. Though this feels bad enough.’
‘I’m