Angel Kate (20 page)

Kate was overwhelmed with happiness and misery so intertwined she couldn't have said whether she was in ecstasy or despair. She wanted him to kiss her, but she wanted so much more than kisses … If she made the first move, would Tom despise her for ever? All she could think was that this magical night mustn't end yet …

The security lights illuminated the path to the Tudor entrance. They came into the hall, their footsteps echoing on the flagstones.

'Why don't I make you a nightcap?' said Kate, eagerly. 'I'm sure Bess must have a tin of cocoa somewhere.'

Before Tom could answer, the phone rang. Automatically his hand reached out, then drew back. He grinned. 'See how well trained I am. I thought for a moment I was on call'.

They both laughed, but the phone shrilled on and on, insistent. He picked up.

'Cocoa?' whispered Kate. From several feet away, she could hear a woman's voice—irritated because she had called several times during the evening and got no reply whatsoever; urgent because Tom hadn't been answering his mobile and she had something very important to tell him.

'Cocoa?' she asked again, but Tom seemed to have forgotten she was there, so absorbed was he with his Diana back in town. 'Are you certain?' he was demanding. 'Tomorrow!—hell's bells, it's tomorrow today … Pleased? Pleased isn't the word for it.
Darling
—you know how frustrated I've been feeling.'

Kate slipped away and shoes in hand disappeared to her room. Tom was off to be with Diana first thing in the morning. He would want her up early to drive him to the station.

Much more of this emotional torment and she would explode!

And there was James, wanting to have a serious talk about weddings …

But Kate had got it all wrong about James.

She heard him out in silence, with downcast eyes. 'Five years,' she said finally. 'Five whole years.' They were sitting in a deserted corner of the staff dining room, James with a slice of mushroom quiche and a salad in front of him, Kate with a cup of lukewarm coffee.

'I didn't want to discuss it with you
while I was at work,' he frowned. 'Couldn't you have come over this evening?'

Tom had taken a taxi to the station. She wasn't even certain he'd gone to bed at all. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop—but plainly Diana had wangled some time off and organised a special licence so they could get married. This could well be Tom Galvan's wedding day…

There no longer seemed a reason to put off seeing James. She'd gone to the hospital at lunchtime and dragged him from the path lab, knowing she must somehow find the strength to go through with it. He was grumpy at being disturbed and that made it even harder to summon up within herself the old affection. If only he could have pretended to be pleased to see her walk in out of the blue! Wasn't that how lovers were supposed to feel for each other? If Tom came through those doors right now, her heart would just about burst with joy!

'I didn't know if I'd be free this evening,' she explained wearily. 'How long have you known about this, James? Why didn't you tell me there was a chance you'd be invited to join this research team in the States?' And no suggestion, she reminded herself, that I should come too.

Motivated by feelings of pride and anger, she asked outright and boldly, 'Do you want us to get married, then, James? I know this isn't a leap year, but I assumed this was what our relationship would lead up to. No? I can see you don't. Fair enough. Do please eat your salad. But I hope we'll always be friends—and I do care enough to want to see you eating properly. Tell you what,' she urged, leaning across the table and squeezing his well-scrubbed hand.

'Before you go we'll have a vegetarian feast, how's about it, eh? Home grown. It's only fair you get to eat some of those vegetables  you've been watering for me. When do you leave? September?'

James passed a hand across his face like a man spreading relief over his features. 'End of June, Kate. Those carrots won't be ready but the radishes and lettuce are coming on a treat. You'll have finished with Galvan by then, won't you?'

Kate's jaw dropped. Her coffee mug hovered half way to her lips. 'You're going so soon?' she gasped. 'James, you must have known about this for ages! Why didn't you say anything? I'd never have lumbered you with looking after my place if I'd known! You must have loads to organise.'

'Not really. Just my flight. Everything else is being seen to at their end.' He put his hand over hers, gripping it warmly. 'Come and stay with me in Boston. It'll be great to catch up on hospital news. Have you been to Boston?'

'I spent most of my time in New York when I was –er … working, but I've heard it's the most beautiful city and I'll definitely come out and see how you're getting on.'

Kate was on the A27 doing seventy. She'd a holdall, already packed, in the boot and she'd left a note on Tom's study desk, though she didn't for a moment imagine he'd be back that day or night. Unless, of course, it was with Diana; and in that case Nurse Wisdom had no intention of playing gooseberry with a honeymoon couple.

Something in her bones warned that this job was over. She'd not be nursing Tom Galvan again. No one could complain if the nurse took a couple of days' leave.

Not wishing to turn up empty-handed as well as unannounced, Kate stopped for a while in Chichester and wandered round the shops in search of something special for little Ben. What a strange mistake Tom had made about her keeping it secret that she had a child of her own. He must have been in her bedroom, seen Ben's photo by her bed. Why? The thought of him being in her room when she wasn't there … that was a bit peculiar - what could he have wanted?

In a toyshop she bought a Paddington Bear in a blue-and-white striped rugby shirt and boots with a sweatband round his furry head – so comically appealing it brought a smile to her face. Perfect! She wished Tom could see it. She wished they were still together.

Then she was on the road again, yawning with a fatigue born of drained emotions and insufficient sleep. The traffic pulled in to give way to a speeding ambulance heading for St Richard's Hospital. Brief though the hold-up was, Kate felt her head begin to loll and her eyelids droop. In her bag her phone kept bleeping, but she was driving and some instinct told her not to stop but just press on.

At last she was safely there, turning into the curve of gravel drive fronting the flint and brick Chantry House, nestling in the lee of the South Downs. Ropes of wisteria with great purple swags of blossom fingered the bedroom windows, filling the air with its heady perfume. Pink and red roses mingled with foxgloves and delphiniums in the borders. So glamorous, reflecting Olwen Wisdom, its owner. So different from Foxe Manor with that remote feeling of perfect English countryside.

The front door stood open in welcome. Kate knew that she had been right to come.

She parked behind an unfamiliar BMW and was just dragging her wheelie case from the back of the car when a slim blond man dressed in white came bounding urgently out of the front door. His face, she noticed with a flicker of foreboding, was set and pale.

 Apparently he knew who she was.

'Kate! I'm Harry. Olwen's been driven frantic trying to get hold of you. She's gone ahead in the ambulance. We're to follow in my car. Get in.'

He could see it. Olwen's stepdaughter was on the verge of collapse. The man took control. He would explain while they were on the move.

Harry raced back into the house and seconds later reappeared, crashing the heavy front door behind him. He slung a dark blue seersucker jacket on to the back seat of the BMW along with Kate's things and hustled the dazed girl into the passenger seat.

As they roared out of the village and back on to the highway, travelling in the direction Kate had come from, she remembered the ambulance and knew. Tragedy was striking the Wisdom family yet again. And this time tragedy's victim was small, defenceless Ben.

'Sorry to say this, Kate, but I'm taking you all the way back to St Crispin's. You can sleep on the way. But first I'm going to tell you why …'

'T
om can't possibly operate!'

Kate was wide awake now, nails digging into her palms as  Harry Lawson filled in the facts. 'The Xrays confirm it,' he told her grimly. 'Ben has a tumour pressing on his brain. Olwen's terrified. She's had Ben taken straight to St Crispin's by private ambulance.'

'But she's wasting precious time!' Kate's voice was choked with tears.

'Well
you
told her Galvan's one of the top brain surgeons in the country.'

'Not with one hand!' wailed his distraught passenger. 'Who are you anyway? Where do you fit into all this? And where's Ben's nanny?' If Olwen was beautiful but impractical, the Norland-trained Trudi had her head screwed on the right way. And she adored her little charge.

'Trudi's gone in the ambulance with Olwen, of course. You want to know who I am?' he said tersely. 'I'm Harry Lawson. First violin with the London Philharmonic and living with Olwen since the New Year.

'Any objection?' he challenged.

'It's nothing to do with me,' responded Kate wretchedly. From his pallor and tight-lipped profile, she could tell Harry was as worried about Ben as if the child were his own.

'We're in love and we plan to get married. Yes, it's been quick but believe me, you know when you want to be with someone for the rest of  your life.'

A ghost of a smile flitted across his companion's taut features.

'Olwen's fretting about telling you. So I'm telling you now.'

Kate sighed wearily. This was too much to take in.

'Have a kip,' said Harry sympathetically, 'you look ready to flake out. I'll wake you for directions to the hospital.'

Kate was sure she couldn't sleep, but five minutes later her head lolled over onto Harry's shoulder…

He knew all about Olwen's much-loved stepdaughter, of course he did. She wasn't at all what he was expecting. Sadder and sweeter, her sleeping face white with exhaustion, bruised shadows beneath her closed eyes.

By the time they got to Crisp's Kate was wide-awake again, her body quivering with tension. At the sight of the mud-splattered Range Rover she urged Harry to park alongside. 'This is Mr Galvan's car! Stan must have driven him in.'

It couldn't be Tom's hand holding the scalpel. But he would be there in theatre watching over little Ben while Kingsley operated …

She scanned the car park for Stan but he had disappeared. Why didn't he go home to the Manor and come back later? He was in for a long long wait.

'Let's go straight to Mr Galvan's consulting room.' They wasted no time, Kate's long legs leading the way down the wide corridors. 'Tom's room. Here we are,' she whispered. They could hear Olwen, pleading with the neuro-surgeon.

The door was slightly ajar. Harry would have pushed his way in, but Kate put a hand on his arm and held him back, her finger to her lips. Together they listened.

'When they told us about the tumour, all I could think of was to get Ben here to you. Kate's told us – told us all about you –' Olwen Wisdom's voice was broken with misery and fear, her face tear-stained, her huge blue eyes blazing with agony.

'Then you will know about my accident. The injuries.'

Olwen was almost incoherent. 'I didn't think … I I just knew you would save him. Please Mr Galvan, I'm begging  you. You can save my son's life. You will do the surgery, say you will, you
must
.'

'Yes, I will do it. Of course I will.' Tom listened to himself speaking, and his thoughts were sombre at the commitment he'd just made. This would be his first time in theatre since the accident. Would his nerve hold? Would his arm have the strength of muscle to allow that infinite care and control he once took for granted?

In the corridor Kate and Harry looked at each other and gasped.

Olwen was sobbing her thanks and Kate and Harry had to hold themselves back from bursting into the consulting room to try and comfort her. Kate pushed the door a little and it opened just enough for her to see Tom very gently disengage himself Olwen's pleading hands as he made sure the shaking mother was looking directly at him and taking in  his careful words:

'My business is neurosurgery,' he said with gentle firmness. 'My task is to give my patients the best that is in me. I do this for
every single man, woman or child.'

Now he saw Kate, standing rigid in the doorway. Their eyes met and held, then 'Kate,' he said quickly, 'I've got to alert the team. Look after her.'

Kate rushed in and put her arms round Olwen. The two women hugged each other, Kate's surprised face looking at Tom over Olwen's shoulder. Tom in a dark suit.  The plaster gone. And the beard as well.

He gave a small nod of his head and left the room, his face grave and sombre as he headed for Theatres.

A sickening fear gripped Kate. Fear for Ben, for the surgeon bearing the burden of their trust. For them all.

As he rinsed and soaped and scrubbed again, Tom was deep in thought. What he was about to do within this child's head would have huge implications. The space in a child's skull was so small, the area to work in so confined. He was not a specialist consultant paediatric neuro-surgeon.

'The patient's ready for you, Mr Galvan.'

The nurses exchanged nervous glances. This was a different Tom Galvan, stern-faced and reflective. Where was he, their confident amiable hero of old?

Dripping Hibiscrub, Tom pushed through the swing doors, his green theatre gown billowing, hands held aloft. His team was there: Graham at the anaesthetics machine, Kingsley waiting to assist, all of them with eyes fixed on the chief surgeon, the atmosphere, - and Tom was very aware of it - uneasy. He was uneasy himself. The left arm was weakened and thinner than the right. But he was fit and he was rested and he was ready to work again.

His critical eye checked over the field of surgery, arranged with the care he always demanded of his nurses. All concentration now focused on the small anaesthetised shape beneath the sterile drapes, the child's head positioned, the area to be operated on shaved  and painted with Betadine.