Angel Kate (6 page)

Strange lady! Tom grinned, an ironic slash of a heart-melting smile.

Kate's lips parted. Her breathing almost stopped. You didn't fall in love on the spur of the moment. You just didn't. This wasn't love. Here was the man she'd witnessed on the point of death. What she was feeling was joy that he was alive and safe and with her own eyes she could see it.

Another of them, sighed Tom to himself. What is it about being a neuro-surgeon that turns a guy into a babe-magnet? Why do they let themselves? Haven't they any pride?

Kate saw it in his eyes. The drawbridge coming down as he distanced himself. She did the same. Assumed a frosty look and bit her lips into a thin hard line. Time to show her patient she meant business. 'We can't have you lying in bed all day,' she snapped. You should be up and in your dressing gown. Haven't you any pyjamas? Oh yes, I see you have.' She grasped a striped sleeve sticking out from the heap of pillows.

'Let's get these on. Where are your bottoms?'

She whisked the sheets back and peered at his legs. 'Good. You're wearing them – that saves us a fight. Now let's get your dressing gown from behind the bathroom door and we'll have you out of bed and in that chair by the window in no time. You'll feel much better. And we can change your sheets and have the bed all nice and tidy.'

He wasn't making the smallest effort to insert his good arm into a sleeve.
OK! So much for the
nanny approach.
Kate snatched the pen out of his hand and put it out of reach. 'Hey!' exclaimed Tom, taken by surprise.

'Lean forward, Mr Galvan.'

He smelled of warm sheets and shaving soap and his body was solid and real beneath her capable hands.

With ill-concealed impatience he tolerated having the jacket smoothed across his back and fastened with a safety pin across that injured arm.

Kate handed him back the pen. So far so good. He hadn't been all that difficult to handle. 'Have you had a proper bath yet? Well, we'll see about that tomorrow. You certainly haven't used a brush and comb today.' She delved into his locker. 'Here you are. Sort yourself out. Unless you'd like me to brush your hair for you, dear.'

That 'dear' really had him rattled. 'Look here, Staff Nurse whoever you are. I am a doctor.' He mouthed the words slowly, as if talking to someone who might not understand the Queen's English. 'I do not need you. I do not need
any
nurse. I can dose myself with my medicines. I can remove my own stitches. I can even record my own TPR and BP on the effing charts and anything else you care to name. I've told Judy Carter not to waste her precious nurses on me. There's only one thing
you
can do to please me and that is … get the hell out of here!'

Kate stamped down her feelings. She refused to meet temper with temper. 'Shout at me all you wish, Mr Galvan,' she said smoothly, 'I won't take offence. You need to express your feelings.'

'Oh spare me the amateur psychology!' His lip curled in derision. But he swept the brush through his thick hair. Then tossed it in her direction.

Kate caught it deftly and put it back inside his locker. If he thought she was going to make a bolt for it he'd got another think coming. She put on an earnest expression and being deliberately annoying said, 'You're angry and frustrated, Mr Galvan. Believe me, I truly want to help you.'
I truly want to wring your neck and I haven't been in this room half an hour.

Tom Galvan bared his splendid teeth in a snarl that dared Kate to continue. Claiming to understand what he, a neuro-surgeon, was going through, cooped up in this cell of a room when over in the theatre block his team were operating without him! Damn the accident, damn Diana, damn the whole lot of them, including the trainee dragon regarding him with synthetic concern. If he hadn't forgotten his keys he could have spent the night at the apartment and then this … this
nightmare
would never have happened.

There was a knock on the door and an auxiliary came in with the elevenses tray which she handed over to Mr Galvan's poor nurse. The new lass looked drained already. Really, really pale. She'd last no longer than the others. Still, she'd got him into his pyjamas and that must have taken some nerve.

Kate poured his coffee and swung the bed table round so that his drink was in reach. This was hospital coffee, not finest Arabica. She wasn't letting him anywhere near the tray.   'Sugar?'

'Certainly not. Sugar's worse than fats. You should know that, you're supposed to be looking after me.'

'I want you up now, Mr Galvan. I shouldn't need to remind a surgeon that after surgery it's not good to lie in bed.'

'I have been getting up,' came the grumpy response, 'but it's easier to deal with these application forms when I'm in bed.'

'Oh, is that what they are.' Kate fetched his tartan dressing gown and turned back the covers for him to swing his legs out. Tom groaned as if it was all an immense effort.

'The light's much better by the window. Maybe I can help. Pass you things.' She took hold of his good arm in case he should be unsteady on his feet.

It was a shock to be reminded how tall he was, towering over her, physically dominating the confined space. No wonder the agency nurses had been frightened of Tom Galvan in a rage. Herself a tall girl, Kate felt dwarfed and fragile beside him. She was taken aback when the grumbling suddenly ceased and tightening his dressing gown cord Tom looked down at her and grinned. She smiled back uncertainly, mistrusting her instinctive reaction to be charmed by this charismatic man.

'What am I supposed to call you?'

'Gertie,' said Kate, silently congratulating herself on being ready for this one.

'Well you look a darn sight better without your goggles, Gertie. Seem to see a lot better without them too.'

'Oh, I—er— took them off to help with the beds. They slip down my nose.'

'Really. Why's that, Gertie. Didn't you have them properly fitted?'

'I – er – lost a lot of weight. Yes, I  was … em … really … this uniform used to be quite tight.'

'You had a fat nose. How unfortunate.'

Oh god
, thought Kate.
This is one smart guy, I'm going to have to watch my step if I'm to keep up this charade.
'Which pile of forms do you want to start with?' she asked hurriedly.

Five minutes passed in which Kate bustled back and forth with fresh linen and Tom Galvan resumed his work.

'Coffee okay, Mr Galvan? Another cup?'

He flung down his pen with a sigh. 'I trained myself to be ambidextrous—always useful for a surgeon. But my right hand's not used to this and I'm getting writer's cramp.'

'Perhaps I could help you.'

'We-ell, this is strictly confidential, I can't let you read the applications.' Tom rubbed his chin as he considered her tempting offer … He could wait for his secretary to come up in the late afternoon. Or he could get stuck in with Gertie's help. 'I guess you could help me draw up my shortlist.'

Kate brought over a visitor's chair and settled herself alertly at his elbow with the clipboard.

'Going to be able to manage all right without your goggles, Gertie?'

'It's OK, I just wear them for reading,' said Kate without a second thought.

Tom gave her an odd look but left it at that. 'These are applications for the post of registrar on my neuro-surgical firm. I'm drawing up a shortlist of ten names. '

'
All
these? But there must be over a hundred!'

He gave a grunt. 'We've had a very high response and Kingsley's checked through the lot and weeded out the no-hopes. Every one of these surgeons has excellent qualifications and experience. Blame the cutbacks. I hate rejecting good men.'

'And good women,' said Kate firmly.

'Quite.'

Her eyes challenged his. 'So there will be five female surgeons on your shortlist?'

Not likely, Gertie. This quota business doesn't work – and a good woman's hard to find.'

*  *  *

'So how was it, your first experience of Maynard and the
dreaded
Tom Galvan?

James and Kate were sitting together in the staff cafeteria having a cup of tea before she left for home. James kept glancing at his watch. He'd set up a controlled test in the lab and half an hour was as much as he could allow himself for a snack of beans on toast and a shared pot of tea with Kate, who had just come off duty

'This morning wasn't so bad but you know it's ridiculous the number of people who kept trooping in and out all afternoon. Mr Galvan's senior registrar—'

'Kingsley Armstrong?'

'Yes, Kingsley, that's right. Well, he came and stayed
ages
going over theatre lists and discussing patients. And Kimberley brought across the post and letters to sign and he told her to be back to take dictation first thing in the morning. Plus half the senior medical staff fobbing me off with beaming smiles and "Just going to pop my head round the door and say hello". Doctors disturbing him who should know better. Mr Galvan got no rest to speak of. And as for the flowers! They keep arriving and he just says 'I'm not having this torture chamber turned into a mausoleum. Give them to someone else.'

She prattled on, and James listened with half an ear now that he'd satisfied himself Kate had ended her first day unscathed. He was preoccupied with the complex reactions taking place at that very moment on his lab bench.

'That television doctor, Diana Diamond, sent two dozen red roses. Mr Galvan kept
those
in his room. He seemed happier after they came,' she added thoughtfully. 'I wonder how he knows her?'

James looked up in surprise. Then his brow cleared. Of course, it must have been before Kate came to Crisp's. 'Those two were an item once upon a time. For all I know they still are. She was a medical SHO at King's. I used to see her around here when she came down to stay with Galvan. That was before she got snaffled up by the BBC to present that TV programme
Best of Health
. Very striking woman. '

'I think she's beautiful,' said Kate earnestly, cradling her mug of tea in her hands, conjuring up from memory the glamorous screen image of Diana Diamond.

'Oh yes, Diana's one hot lady. Look I must go, sweetheart, see you later maybe?'

Kate grabbed his sleeve. 'And me, darling, am I another hot lady?'

'Heavens, no, sweetheart,' he said kindly, believing this reassuring answer was just what a dear, sensible girl like Kate Wisdom wanted to hear. 'Have you been going round like that all day?'

'What?' said Kate in a puzzled voice.

'With your belt not properly fastened.'

'Grrr!' sulked a very confused staff nurse, heading home to her single bed.

K
ate withdrew the needle of a hypodermic containing 20 mls of blood and pressed cotton wool to the punctured vein in the crook of Tom's left elbow. Automatically Tom folded his arm, answering her encouraging smile with a baleful scowl as he relaxed back into the pillows. 'Repeat after me,' she said brightly
, Thank you, Nurse, I didn't feel a thing.

Tom emitted a sound which reminded her of a bear with a sore head. He clearly didn't trust her yet. Specially where needles and his body were concerned.

Kate was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the only way to deal with Mr Galvan was to tell him in a firm tone of voice what she was about to do—and then get on with it before he had time to think up an argument against it.

'Now  you're to stay in bed this morning until the Professor's done his examination.'

'Suits me fine.'

Suits me too, thought Kate. That's a complicated fracture of the humerus, and with one arm in plaster your balance is affected. I don't want you falling while I'm trying to get on with other things.

She printed the date of birth on the red-labelled sterile specimen container. Checked with the case notes and raised an eyebrow. Thirty-eight and already at the top of his profession. Tom Galvan must be super-clever.

Next she filled in details of all drugs, treatments and sterile disposables used that morning. Everything, down to the last pre-injection Medi-Swab, had to be accounted for. Not that there'd be a bill at the end of the day for Crisp's most cherished patient.

As she worked she kept a discreet eye on the injured surgeon's averted head, studying his brooding profile. As a medical student Tom must have been startlingly good-looking. Now, if anything, he looked older than thirty-eight, with the worldliness of the highly experienced man. Add in the high-octane intelligence and that aura of power, hallmark of the highly-qualified neuro-surgeon - and what had you got? … a grumpy panther, caged in a Maynard private bed!

She chewed the end of her pen meditatively. Looked at what she had written – did a double-take – forgot she was supposed to be Nurse Dragon and laughed out loud.  

'What's the matter with you?' growled Tom.

'You wouldn't want to know.'

'Yes I would.'

'I
really
don't think so!'

'Try me.'

'I've just written
Cage 27
instead of Room 27. 'What
was
I thinking of?' 'Very amusing,' he said sourly. 'And I suppose I'm the
dangerously wounded
male lion?'

'More of a bad-tempered panther,' she teased.

'So,' said Tom with ominous silkiness, 'that would make you the panther-tamer.' His eyes narrowed. He was plotting a way to get his own back.

Kate could see it. Just let him try …

Just then, the door opened and in breezed Professor Davy followed by Jonathan Reeves, the senior orthopaedic consultant, Sister Carter on their heels. Kate wiped the smirk off her face and assumed an air of sober efficiency.

'Morning, Tom. Look at you now, all kempt and cared for. It's working already, that TLC we wrote you up for. Great stuff.' He beamed at the two of them. 'Tender Loving Care,' he declaimed. 'Never fails to do the trick, eh Sister? We knew you were the lass for the job, didn't we now. First class work, Kate.'

Kate had forgotten she was supposed to be Gertie. Her patient was glowering at her across his bed and she couldn't think why, considering he'd just heard the Professor's encouraging words.