Doctor Knows Best (14 page)

As they wheeled the boy away into the lift bay, Megan got swiftly on to the telephone. The ENT surgeon was already aware of the case as the other Casualty senior house officer had alerted him, and for once Sister Grover didn't say she didn't have enough staff and she didn't know how she was going to manage, or any of the other usual excuses she trotted out whenever there was a rush. It seemed that for a child even she was prepared to drop everything. Satisfied that all that could be done had been done, Megan turned her attention back to the anxious parents.

“I'll get Nurse here,” indicating one of the pupil nurses, “to take you straight up to theatre now,” she said. “I'm sorry we couldn't wait so that you could go up with him, but if Dr. Cox hadn't done a crycothyrotomy your son would have been dead by now.”

“What is that?” asked the mother, her face deathly pale with worry.

“Dr. Cox has made a small hole into the trachea through which your son is now breathing pure oxygen. It has bypassed the peanut which is obstructing his airway. I can tell you it's a very skilled procedure and we were very lucky that Dr. Cox happened to be on duty today.” Megan put her arms round the worried parents' shoulders. “Don't worry, I'm sure everything is going to be all right and he couldn't be in better hands. You go up to theatre now and the surgeon will speak to you. You will need to sign the consent forms.”

“Yes, thank you, Sister,” they muttered as the pupil nurse hurried them away. I only hope I wasn't overoptimistic, thought Megan, when I reassured them. I do hope everything is going to be all right. She knew from past experience that a seemingly simple thing like swallowing a peanut was potentially a tremendously hazardous situation. She sighed, for now she would be on tenterhooks until she knew whether or not that small boy came through the episode unscathed.

Luckily the rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. The cases consisted of minor burns and scalds, mostly two or three days old, sustained during the Christmas period, and the patients only realising they needed skilled treatment when the wound wouldn't heal. One broken leg and a broken collar bone from a riding accident made up the day's total.

It was nearly time for Megan to go off duty before she heard about the peanut boy. Johnny Cox rang down. “I meant to ring before,” he said, “I know how you worry about kids. Thought I'd tell you our little laddy is going to be OK. He's got a tracheostomy of course, had quite a bit of laryngeal oedema from that wretched peanut, but once that has settled he should be as right as ninepence.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Johnny,” said Megan gratefully. “I know I should be more detached and not worry about my patients, but I can't help it.”

Johnny laughed. “You stay the way you are,” he said. “It's quite nice to have a Sister who is made of real flesh and blood for a change, and not some embittered old battle-axe.”

“I shall probably end up like that,” said Megan. “It's one of the hazards of the job.”

“Nonsense,” came Johnny's snort down the phone, “you'll be married with a load of kids soon if I'm not mistaken.”

It was Megan's turn to laugh now. “I can't think what makes you think that, Johnny,” she said, “and if I'm to have a load of kids, as you put it, I'd better get a move on. I'm no spring chicken you know.”

“Well…er,” Johnny hesitated for a moment, then he said, “I gather a certain consultant has been taking more than a passing interest in you lately, so it might be sooner than you think!”

Megan gasped in astonishment. “I don't know what you are talking about, Johnny Cox,” she said indignantly. “Don't listen to hospital gossip.”

“Haven't heard any,” came Johnny's laconic reply. “Just put two and two together and now you confirmed it for me!” He burst out laughing and put down the receiver his end.

Megan's cheeks were flaming as she replaced the phone. Damn Johnny Cox, he was too clever by far! He had tricked her into giving herself away. By telling him not to listen to hospital gossip she had implied that there was something to gossip about!

Once off duty and back in her small hospital flat she felt very restless. She almost wished she was back on duty—at least there was something to do then. She couldn't settle to read and she knew Susan had gone home as she had been on duty all over the Christmas, so she couldn't even go to see her and have a natter. She tried to ring her mother but there was an unobtainable noise on the line. Probably something wrong with the phone due to that dreadful weather, Megan thought. She rang the operator and reported the fault, then sat back and tried to concentrate on the book Richard had given her for Christmas. But it was no good, even with an almost superhuman effort on her part she couldn't keep her thoughts from continually straying back to Giles Elliott.

In the end she gave up trying and lay back in her easy chair, giving herself up to the painful luxury of remembering the way he had kissed her on the beach. No one had ever kissed her like that before. The memory was so vivid she knew that whatever happened to her in the years to come she would never forget that kiss.

The ringing of the telephone startled her out of her reminiscing. It was Johnny. “I'm off tonight,” he announced, “and I've got the after-Christmas blues. There's a funny film on at the Odeon, do you fancy coming with me?”

“Oh yes, I'd love to,” said Megan quickly. “I'm feeling a bit depressed myself. I always do when I come back from a visit home. A funny film is just what the doctor ordered.”

Johnny laughed. “I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes. We'll see the film and buy some take-away chicken or something afterwards, if that's OK with you.”

“Suits me fine,” said Megan. “I'll meet you outside in about ten minutes.”

Before she left her room she rang the switchboard, knowing her mother would probably ring as soon as the phone was back in order. It was one of the night girls she knew. “Oh, Eve,” said Megan persuasively, “I know you are not supposed to do personal favours, but if my mother rings could you tell her that I've gone to the cinema with Johnny Cox? I did say I'd be in tonight but…”

“…But you've got a better offer,” interrupted Eve.

Megan laughed. “Yes, you could say that,” she agreed. “Goodnight, Eve, hope you are not too busy.”

Eve groaned. “So do I, I'm on a long shift tonight because of sickness. I've agreed to work right through until eight tomorrow morning—I must be mad.”

“You'll get your reward, in heaven if not here!” Megan teased, smiling as she put down the phone. Then she hurried into the bathroom to get herself ready in time to meet Johnny.

The film was funny, very funny, and both Megan and Johnny laughed until their sides ached. It was only when they were walking briskly back, that Megan realised she had not even given Giles Elliott a thought for the last three and a half hours. There you are, it just shows, she told herself triumphantly. It wouldn't take much to make you forget him so you are not as besotted as you thought you were, my girl.

The idea that she was in command of her own emotions, or at least on the way to becoming in charge of them again, cheered her up even further. It was an unpleasantly wet, blowy evening, but Megan felt positively glowing with good cheer towards everyone. She hadn't been intending to invite Johnny in, although she knew he was hoping she would, so that he could sit down in comfort and eat his chicken and chips.

“I suppose your place is the tip it usually is?” she said.

Johnny groaned. “Yes,” he replied, “I do try, Megan, but I'm just no good at housekeeping.”

Megan looked at him with exasperation. “Honestly, Johnny, you are hopeless. You don't have to be good at housekeeping to keep a small hospital room tidy.”

“Well, I've got all my research notes spread out,” said Johnny defensively. “I can't move them until I've finished with them.”

“If you tidied them up you might get your research written up and published,” said Megan severely.

“Oh, do shut up,” answered Johnny good-naturedly. “You are beginning to sound like my professor. Every time I see him he asks me if I have done my writing-up yet. It gets monotonous, I can tell you!”

Megan laughed. “Poor Johnny, nagged by everybody. All right, I won't nag you, I promise. Do you want to come up to my room and have your supper in comfort? I've got a bottle of red wine in the cupboard.”

“Hell, it's taken you long enough to ask me,” was Johnny's ungrateful reply, and he ducked swiftly to avoid being battered on the head by Megan with her parcel of chicken and chips.

On reaching her room Megan put up the small folding card table that served as a dining-table when she had visitors and set out the plates, knives and forks.

“My God, you're so civilised,” was Johnny's comment. “I'd have eaten it straight out of the paper.”

“Maybe you would, but I do prefer to be civilised,” said Megan, “and so should you.”

“I will be one day,” answered the unrepentant Johnny. “When I grow up.”

Megan laughed. There was one thing about Johnny—it was impossible to stay annoyed with him. “I'm not so sure that you will ever do that,” she said, handing him the bottle of wine to open. “That's a good wine, we ought to let it breathe really,” she remarked as Johnny deftly uncorked the bottle.

“It can breathe in our stomachs,” he replied as he poured out two glasses of the dark red wine. They sat opposite each other and Johnny raised his glass to Megan. “Here's to the New Year,” he said. “Let's hope everything that happens is good.”

“Amen to that,” said Megan with feeling.

As they were eating their supper Johnny said casually, “What do you wish for the New Year, Megan? Would you like to get married?”

To her annoyance Megan felt herself blushing. Was he going to refer to Giles Elliott again? Or, worse still, was he going to propose to her? The thought stopped her dead in her tracks and she almost choked on a piece of chicken. Johnny, however, didn't wait for her to reply.

“I'm thinking of it,” he announced.

“Thinking of what?” spluttered Megan.

“Getting married, of course,” said Johnny, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be contemplating.

Megan gulped and swallowed her piece of chicken. “I'm almost afraid to ask who the, er…” she hesitated, “lucky…girl is?”

Johnny laughed. “Don't worry, I know I don't come up to your high expectations of what a sensible and reliable man should be, but there is a girl who thinks quite highly of me.” He frowned for a moment, then said, “At least, I think she does.”

Megan remembered the party in the doctors' Mess before Christmas, and the dreamy way Johnny and Susan had been dancing together. “Susan North?” she asked.

Johnny raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “I knew you were clever,” he said, “but I didn't know you were clairvoyant!”

Megan laughed. “I'm not, I just noticed you had become rather friendly at the Mess party before Christmas.” She laughed again at Johnny's discomforted look. “I don't think you even remember that I was there,” she said accusingly.

“Well, actually no,” Johnny admitted. Then he leaned across the small table confidentially. “Do me a favour, Megan. Find out how I stand in Susan's estimation. I don't want to make a fool of myself if she's not interested.”

“Johnny Cox,” Megan erupted into laughter, “for all your bravado with the girls, you are a coward! No, I won't run your errands for you—you can do your own dirty work.”

“Megan,
please
,”
he pleaded. “This time it's really important to me and I don't want to louse it up with my big mouth. Just prepare the ground a little for me, that's all I ask.”

“Oh, all right,” agreed Megan. “I'll see what I can do in the cause of true love!” She laughed again. “I never thought I'd start the New Year off playing Cupid!”

Johnny smiled sheepishly and poured Megan another glass of wine. “You're a good sort, Megan,” he said. “Some man is going to be lucky one day.”

“Humph,” snorted Megan in reply.

When the chicken and chips were finished Megan carried the dirty dishes through the corridor into the kitchen she shared with four others, and fetched a piece of Camembert she had been saving. “This will go nicely with the rest of the wine,” she announced, putting it on the table. “I'll just pop back to the kitchen and get some biscuits.” The phone rang while she was in the kitchen. “Answer it for me, Johnny, will you?” she shouted. “It's probably my mother.”

When she re-entered the room Johnny handed her the phone with a strangely quizzical look on his face. “It's not your mother,” he said.

“Hello,” said Megan tentatively into the receiver, puzzling over Johnny's expression.

“Megan?” came a voice she knew so well. Even at long distance he sends shivers down my spine she thought inconsequentially.

“Oh, hello,” she said, desperately trying to keep her voice light and non-committal. Partly for the benefit of Giles Elliott on the other end of the line and also partly for Johnny's benefit, for his expression had now changed to a smug, I-thought-so, sort of look.

“This is a surprise,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” came the reply. “I just thought I'd ring and see how you were. I thought perhaps you might be lonely as most of your friends were still on leave.” He laughed and it was a hard-sounding laugh. “But of course, I should have known better, you young people are never alone for long. Have a good evening?”

“I've had an absolutely wonderful evening so far,” said Megan, beginning to feel angry at his unspoken insinuations, “and I've no doubt that the rest of the evening will be just as good.”