The Good Father. Maggie Kingsley
headed for the waiting room.
‘That has to be a record even for you, Gabriel,’ Jonah observed as soon as the door of his office was safely closed. ‘Managing to be very rude to a complete stranger in the space of two minutes.’
‘I’d say Miss Bryce is no slouch herself in the rudeness stakes,’ the neonatologist said dryly, and Jonah grinned.
‘What happened with the emergency call in Maternity?’
‘The baby died.’
Gabriel’s closed face didn’t invite further questioning and Jonah knew better than to probe. Instead he picked up the scattered application forms on his desk and put them in his in-tray.
‘For the record,’ he observed, ‘the next time you find yourself suddenly unavailable to interview candidates I’d appreciate it if you could reschedule. Eight women, all bar one with identical qualifications and experience….’ He grimaced. ‘Nightmare. The only way I could narrow them down was by ruling out those who seemed a bit officious, those who had irritating laughs, those—’
‘Cut to the chase, Jonah. Who would you pick?’
‘Ruth Haddon. She didn’t laugh like a hyena, didn’t make me feel five years old, has sixteen years’ secretarial experience—’
‘I want Miss Bryce.’
The specialist registrar blinked. ‘You want…? Gabriel, she’s the least qualified of all the applicants, has absolutely no experience—’
‘And in four months Lynne Howard will be emigrating with her family to New Zealand and I’ll need a skilled NICU sister to replace her as ward manager. Madison Bryce is perfect.’
Jonah opened his mouth, closed it again, and when he finally spoke it was slowly and carefully.
‘Gabriel, I hate to break this to you but Miss Bryce didn’t apply for Lynne’s job, she applied for Fiona’s. She doesn’t want to be a nurse. She has kids—’
‘I don’t care if she has a zoo,’ the neonatologist interrupted. ‘The minute I saw her application form I was on the phone to the Hillhead General, and the references they gave her were quite outstanding.’
‘Gabriel, you’re not listening to me,’ Jonah protested. ‘Madison Bryce doesn’t want to return to nursing. Her kids—they’re not ordinary kids. They’re her niece and nephew and she’s looking after them because their parents died in a car crash two years ago.’
‘Kids are kids,’ Gabriel replied dismissively. ‘Once we get her into the department, let her see what she’s been missing, I guarantee she’ll jump at the chance of stepping into Lynne’s shoes after she’s gone to New Zealand.’
‘You honestly think a woman who refuses to have her children looked after by a childminder is suddenly going to change her mind simply because she’s worked here as a medical secretary?’ Jonah exclaimed, and Gabriel threw him a look of exasperation.
‘Of course she will. Nobody in their right mind would willingly throw their career down the toilet on the strength of some ridiculous antipathy towards childminders and it’s up to us to make her see she’s making a big mistake.’
Jonah stared at him silently for a second, then shook his head. ‘You don’t have children, do you, Gabriel?’
‘You know I don’t,’ the neonatologist retorted. ‘I’m not married, and neither are you, so what’s your point?’
‘No point. Just an observation.’
‘Then it’s a stupid one. Look, trust me on this one, Jonah,’ Gabriel continued as his specialist registrar opened his mouth to argue. ‘If we can keep Miss Bryce sweet for four months, we’ll have Lynne’s replacement in the bag.’
A small smile curved Jonah’s lips. ‘You’re going to keep the woman who told you that you had no manners sweet for four months? This I have to see.’
‘Jonah…’
‘OK—OK.’ The specialist registrar held up his hands in resignation. ‘You’re the boss and if you want Madison Bryce, then Madison Bryce it is. Reading between the lines, I’d say she needs the job.’
She also looks as though she needs one, Gabriel thought with a sudden and quite unexpected qualm. How old did her application form say she was? Twenty-nine. He would have said she was older. Of course, those dark shadows under her too-large brown eyes didn’t help. Neither did the extreme whiteness of her skin, which contrasted so sharply with the riot of short curly auburn hair which framed her cheeks and forehead, but she didn’t simply look older than her twenty-nine years, she also looked tired. Tired, and harassed, and stressed.
‘I just hope my replacement doesn’t expect a social life or too many hours’ sleep,’ Fiona had said at her leaving bash, ‘because she sure as shooting won’t get either in this department.’
But that was just Fiona’s pregnancy hormones talking, he told himself. All women became irrational and emotional when they were pregnant.
But what if it hadn’t been just her hormones talking? Fiona was a highly experienced medical secretary and if she’d found the workload tough, how much more difficult was it going to be for a woman with no experience, a woman who already looked exhausted and stressed?
‘Gabriel…?’
Jonah’s eyes were fixed on him curiously and Gabriel let out a huff of impatience. Hell’s bells, it wasn’t as though secretarial work was rocket science, and as for Madison Bryce looking stressed…he would have looked stressed, too, if he’d been throwing his career away on the strength of a quite irrational prejudice. Giving her the job would make her see that her future lay in nursing and, if it also solved the question of how he was going to replace Lynne Howard in four months, it wasn’t being selfish. It was a purely practical and sensible solution for everyone.
‘Let’s go and tell Miss Bryce the good news,’ he said.
‘You want me?’ Maddie said faintly, completely convinced she must have misheard. ‘You’re offering me the job?’
‘If you want it,’ Gabriel Dalgleish replied.
Did she? This morning she had. This morning she’d thought it the answer to her prayers but that had been before she’d met him. Two minutes in his company had been more than enough to tell her he was cold, arrogant and supercilious, and she’d spent too many years as a nurse working for obnoxious neonatologists to want to repeat the experience.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, Maddie. Nobody’s expecting you to bond with the guy. He’ll be your boss, you’ll be the NICU secretary, and even if he’s the boss from hell the contract will only last for six months and at the end of it you’ll not only have some money in the bank, you’ll also have something to put in those big blank spaces on application forms marked ‘Experience’.
‘Yes, I want the job,’ she said quickly. ‘When do you want me to start?’
‘Next Monday.’
Monday? She’d have to ask the school whether it would be all right for Charlie and Susie to arrive there half an hour earlier every day, and she’d have to enroll them in some after-school activities because she wouldn’t finish work until five. Susie would sulk and Charlie…Unconsciously she shook her head. She’d figure out how she was going to deal with Charlie later.
‘Monday will be fine,’ she said.
‘Why don’t I take you along to the unit, show you around?’ Gabriel suggested, heading out of the waiting room and down the corridor towards the door marked NEONATAL INTENSIVE CARE UNIT. ‘Not that there’s anything you won’t be familiar with. Though the Belfield Infirmary was built in Victorian times, we’ve managed to attract quite substantial funding over the past three years and can now offer three levels of care. Intensive Care for the most seriously ill babies, Special Care for those who need