The Rebel Doc. Susan Carlisle
‘Be prepared, Finelli. I’ve been doing my homework.’
Prepared? Sure. He kept trying to be, but just when he thought he’d got everything under control Ivy Leigh knocked him backwards or sideways or just plain upside down.
As Ivy stepped onto Ward Four she was consumed by the memories, the smell, the rush-rush of the nurses as they bustled by. The fear. That was it, the place smelt of fear. And no doubt that had not been the intention of the interior designer who’d recently been appointed to cheer the place up. Sure, they’d done a great job with the bright primary-coloured walls and the jungle-animal theme.
But it still smelt of fear.
Or maybe that was just her impression. Surely it was, because the kids she could see were cheerful and smiling and the parents too. It was just her and her memories. Of learning to walk again. Of the pain. And the loss. Of not knowing who was going to turn up to take her home. If, indeed, she had a home to go to.
Brushing those memories away, she fixed on a smile and headed towards the huddle of medics standing around a bed. As she closed in on them she heard Matteo’s voice, soft and soothing, chatting to a little boy who was wearing Spiderman pyjamas and sitting up in front of a giraffe mural, with more tubes coming out of him than she’d ever seen.
Matteo stroked the kid’s blond hair back from his eyes. Eyes that were dark and sunken and ringed and skin that was tinged with the grey pallor of sickness. ‘So, Joey, what’s so special about Spiderman? I mean, he can jump a bit, right? But that’s all.’
‘Fly. He can fly, silly. And he saves everyone. The whole world.’ The boy’s face was animated as he spoke, but depleted of energy, like a deflated balloon. ‘He’s very cool.’
An anxious-looking woman, whom Ivy presumed was the boy’s mother, sitting on the bed next to Joey, smiled and said, ‘Like Matteo? He’s going to give you a new kidney, so he’s very cool, too.’
‘I do not think I’m all that cool. But maybe I should get a vest saying Kidney Man! on it? And a cape? Will that help me fly too? I quite like that idea.’ Matteo examined one of the tubes, then grinned, his face boyish but wise. ‘But first we have to make you better. And I’m going to do that this morning. We’re going to go along and see my friend Mo who’s got special medicine that helps you to go to sleep, and when you wake up you’ll be feeling a bit sleepy, but much better. And you’ll have a new kidney that means you can stop all the dialysis and a lot of the medicine and then we’ll just have to see you sometimes and not every week. And soon you’ll be able to go back to school and not be tired. How d’you feel about that?’
The boy nodded sagely. ‘Good. Will it hurt?’
‘We’ll give you special medicine, and if you have any bits that hurt we’ll make them all better for you.’ As if he sensed Ivy’s presence, he glanced over and raised his eyebrows, beckoning her over. ‘Hey, this lady works at the hospital. She’s new and she’s learning how we do things. Is it okay with you all if she watches the operation?’
‘Yes. Hello.’ The boy stuck out his hand in such an old-fashioned, too grown-up gesture that tears pricked Ivy’s eyes. He should be out playing, running around with his friends, getting into mischief, not here in a bed, waiting for the gift of life.
She blinked the tears away—because what use were they to him?—and took his sweaty little hand in hers. She’d never had a broody bone in her body but, heck, she felt everything soften at the faith the boy put in Matteo, and his acceptance of everything. Such trust. And the injustice that someone so little and innocent would even have to go through this. But Matteo was handling it so perfectly Joey didn’t appear concerned. ‘Hey, Joey. How are you?’
‘Okay.’
His mum interrupted, ‘He was a bit nervous earlier, but he’s fine now Super-Matteo is here, aren’t you, Joey?’
Ivy knew exactly how all that felt. The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, the panic, the fear of the general anaesthetic. The fear of not knowing if she was going to wake up again. The fear of a pain that was uncontrollable. Run, she wanted to say, Run! But before she knew what she was doing she stepped forward, her voice low but as friendly and reassuring as she could make it.
‘It does feel a bit scary at first, doesn’t it? I know, I really do. It’s perfectly normal to feel like that, but you’ll be fine. Honestly.’ She hoped to God he would be. ‘Matteo and his friends are really great and you’ll be all fixed up.’ And I’ll be in there, making damned sure it’ll happen.
And if anything cemented the rightness of her taking this job it was this. Right here. That she was in the perfect place and that she would do her best to make sure everything went exactly to plan, for Joey and kids like him. She couldn’t do it for the whole city, or the country, or right the wrongs of the world, but she could do this, make a difference here to these lives. Of course she recognised that Matteo, and his colleagues, were not at all like the surgeon who had operated on her—that these guys were capable and competent and fully aware of their expertise and limitations. And that this child’s life and future was in their hands.
She also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Matteo would never take a needless risk. And that she would trust him wholeheartedly with her own child’s life. And that recognition shuddered through her. She believed in him. Was swept up in the passion with which he attacked his job—and, to her chagrin, the humility too. He may have been the single most irritating man she’d ever met but she trusted him. To do his job properly, at least. Anything more than that was a step too far for her right now.
He was looking at her with a strange expression and she realised she’d given away more than she’d intended. ‘Yes, thank you, Ivy. We’d better all get along now. You want to bring anything with you, Joey? A special bear? Teddy?’
‘Can Spidey come?’ The boy held up a plastic miniature of the superhero, which Matteo took and stuffed into the boy’s pyjama pocket. ‘Absolutely. Where would we be without him?’
And with that he gave them all a nod, his gaze lingering on her for just a little longer than she felt comfortable with.
Game on.
SEVEN HOURS AND two operations later Ivy was definitely feeling the effects of standing and tensing and standing and tensing. Trying to stop herself from swaying, she shifted from one foot to the other, ignoring the sharp pain that shivered up her leg, and was so very grateful that she hadn’t fallen over or fainted or shown herself up in any way. In fact, she was feeling pretty proud of herself.
At the operating table Matteo was deep in conversation with the medical students, showing them the difference between a renal vein and an adrenal one. She knew that herself, having studied it ad infinitum on the internet—firstly through her fingers and with noise-cancelling headphones. Then, as her confidence had grown and she’d remained upright, with more and more ease. Still not exactly comfortable, but less at risk of falling over. The good thing was that she knew what to expect, what was going to happen, and so knew when to look away or sing a little song in her head to mask the commentary.
Watching him work, she had a full flush of something like nerves, which she knew was all part of the attraction she now admitted she felt for him. And it was rash and stupid and she just wanted it to go and leave her in peace. Because before she’d ever laid eyes on that spectacular pair of buttocks she’d been quite happy. Okay, so maybe she’d been feeling a little like she was missing out on something in her life. But not enough that she’d been bothered to care. Work had been too all-consuming and she’d liked it that way.
But now? Now she wanted to put her hands on him again. To feel that chest fall and rise under her fingertips. To feel his lips pressed against hers.
His voice floated over to her as she focused on the floor and