Christmas on the Children's Ward by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I’LL just take this,” Eden said, retrieving the bedpan from Rory in virtual darkness, knowing how embarrassed he was by the whole procedure, ‘and then I’ll come and check your temperature. Merry Christmas, Rory.’

‘Yeah.’

Returning two minutes later, Eden pulled out her pen torch and flashed it so she could locate his ear, pushing in the probe and listening for the almost simultaneous bleep as his temperature was recorded.

‘You’ve got a new roommate,’ Eden whispered.

‘How old?’

‘Twelve.’ In the darkness Eden grinned as she felt Rory’s interest go up a notch. ‘He’s feeling pretty sorry for himself. He fell off his skateboard yesterday evening and had to go to Theatre to have his arm set.’

‘Was he wearing pads?’ Rory whispered back, by now an expert on accident prevention.

‘No.’ Eden shook her head. ‘I think he’ll need a bit of cheering up, given it’s Christmas and everything. Can I leave that to you?’ She just made out Rory’s nod in the darkness and even though it was six a.m., even though Rory was no doubt about to drift back to sleep, Eden was just too excited to resist. ‘Why don’t you have a drink?’

‘I’m not thirsty,’ Rory said.

‘You should drink lots,’ Eden insisted. ‘The doctor told you that. I’ll just turn on your bedside light and pour you some water.’ Flicking on the light, she fumbled with the jug and poured the reluctant Rory a drink. Seeing that he’d gone back to sleep, she pulled out her thermometer again, ‘Sorry, Rory, I have to take your temperature again.’ As Rory’s eyes flicked open, Eden picked his chart off the end of his bed and started to fill it in, smothering a smile as Rory, despite the bulky traction, pulled himself to a sitting position.

‘What’s this?’

‘What?’ Eden frowned.

‘This,’ Rory said, gesturing to the massive bedspread covering him, with just his foot, hanging from the traction, sticking out the end of the bed. ‘What’s all the writing?’

‘I don’t know.’ Eden stared at the hundred or so squares that made up the bedspread. ‘What is all the writing?’

‘It’s from school,’ Rory yelped, forgetting to whisper, his face lighting up as he read all the signatures. ‘From my year. There’s Davey and Glen and there’s Shalya…’ His fingers pointed to each individual square, three weeks of lethargy disappearing as he stared at the vast expanse of messages and pictures, each one just for him. ‘And that’s my teacher, Mrs Park. She says it was good I was wearing my helmet…’ A tiny frown puckered his brow as he momentarily looked up at Eden. ‘How did this get here? Did you put it on?’

A loud squawk from the isolation rooms gave Eden the perfect excuse to give him a very queer look. ‘Me? Since when did the night staff have time to make your bed? This is from your school?’

‘Yeah!’ Rory stared from her to the blanket. ‘If you didn’t put it here, then who did?’

‘I have no idea,’ Eden said, but her audience was lost. Rory’s

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