Miracle Under the Mistletoe - Page 4


IT WAS A busy night, although not busy enough for Sean’s liking. As one patient succeeded another, he found himself wishing for more—some kind of major incident that would mean he didn’t have time to think about anything apart from the lives he was saving. It wasn’t that he wanted people to get hurt—far from it. However, anything that would stop him thinking about Molly and the way he had reacted when that drunk had grabbed hold of her would be a relief.

‘Lily should be fine, but don’t hesitate to bring her back if you’re at all concerned about her.’ He dragged his thoughts back to the present and smiled at the anxious parents of seventeen-year-old Lily Morris. They had brought their daughter into the unit after she had woken during the night with an angry red rash all over her body. They had been worried that she had contracted meningitis but Sean had been able to allay their fears. It turned out that Lily had reacted adversely to some new shower gel she had bought off a market stall; she would be absolutely fine as long as she didn’t use it again.

‘Thank you so much, Doctor.’ Mr Morris sighed as he shook Sean’s hand. ‘If it’s not one thing, it’s another when you have children. Lily gave us a right old scare when we saw the state of her, I can tell you.’

‘I’m sure she did but, as I said, Lily should be fine so long as she sticks to her usual shower gel.’

Sean saw the family out then went to the desk and emailed the local Trading Standards office. The gel Lily had purchased had been purportedly a leading brand but he seriously doubted it was genuine. Hopefully, Trading Standards would be able to investigate and stop anyone else purchasing it and ending up in the same state as Lily.

Once that was done, he checked the whiteboard to make sure that nobody had been waiting longer than they should. Government guidelines stated that patients should be seen, treated and either transferred to a ward or sent home within a set number of hours. There was just one patient nearing that limit, so he made his way to Cubicles to check what was happening. The curtains were drawn and he pushed them aside, feeling his heart sink when he found Molly standing beside the bed.

Although they had spoken a couple of times since that incident involving the drunk, Sean had tried his best to stay out of Molly’s way. Not only did he want to avoid another confrontation with her, but he wasn’t comfortable with all the emotions she seemed to have stirred up inside him. He wanted to be indifferent to her but he knew deep down that it was beyond him. Maybe he had succeeded in dismissing all the other women he had dated from his mind but he couldn’t rid himself of Molly, it seemed.

‘How’s it going in here, Sister?’ he asked, falling back on professional courtesy seeing as everything else seemed way too difficult at the moment.

‘Mr Forster was complaining of feeling sick,’ she replied in the coolest possible tone.

Quite frankly, Sean wouldn’t have thought her capable of sounding so frosty and blinked in surprise. Molly had always been known for her warmth, for her kindness, for her sheer joie de vivre. Her earlier anger had been upsetting enough but to hear her sounding so frigid was even worse. It sent a shiver straight through his heart. Had he done this to her? Had he turned her from the warm, loving woman he remembered to this...this chilly replica of herself? Even though he hated the idea, he couldn’t dismiss it.

‘I imagine it’s the morphine,’ he said evenly, clamping down on the guilt that threatened to swamp him as he lifted the patient’s notes out of their holder. Frank Forster had been admitted after complaining of severe pain in his lower back. Apparently, he had been lifting a large Christmas tree off the roof of his car when it had happened. A subsequent scan had shown that one of the discs in his lumbar spine had prolapsed and was pressing on a nerve. The poor man was in a great deal of pain, which was why he had been given morphine while they waited for a bed to become vacant in the spinal unit. Now Sean frowned as he looked up.

‘Why didn’t Dr Collins prescribe an anti-emetic with the morphine?’

‘I have no idea,’ Molly replied coldly. She finished straightening the blanket and patted the middle-aged man’s hand. ‘I’ll be back in a moment with something to stop you feeling so sick, Frank. Just hang in there.’

She treated the man to a warm smile and Sean felt some of his guilt ooze away. So the old Molly hadn’t disappeared completely, as he had feared. It was just with him that she was so frosty; she was perfectly fine with everyone else. That thought might have set off another round of soul-searching if he had let it, only he refused to do so. As he followed her out of the cubicle, he ruthlessly shoved all those pesky feelings back into their box and slammed the lid. He had to focus on the fact that he had done what he had needed to do to protect her, and that he would do exactly the same thing all over again too if it became necessary...

Source: www.NovelCorner.com