Ring O' Roses by Andrews Lucilla

Author:Andrews, Lucilla [Andrews, Lucilla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Maggie Hope, Jean Fullerton, happy ending, nurses, medical romance, hospital, Nadine Dorries, romance, 1956s, Donna Douglas, hea, doctors, Scottish Highlands, Nightingales series, happy ever after, casualty, nursing
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Medical Romance)
Published: 2019-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The occupants of the silver car were Norwegian tourists. The old man was a retired marine biologist, a Professor Ulvik. The girl was his daughter, Nina, the driver her husband, Arne Alesund. They all lived in Bergen.

‘She’ll be out tomorrow.’ Joss took the motorway turning from the roundabout. ‘Alesund probably in forty-eight hours. He was round before I left. No sign of any fracture in his first pictures.’

‘Pity that car hadn’t belts on the back seat.’

‘Yep. It was the roof that clobbered Alesund.’ He shook his head at his thoughts. ‘They’ve got the old boy in their pint-sized I.C. He didn’t look too good when they let me look in again on my way out.’

‘Think he’ll do?’

He shrugged unhappily. ‘The Night Super seemed an intelligent and efficient woman. The one registrar apparently running the whole bloody shop tonight seemed to know his stuff, though his English wasn’t half as good as the Alesunds’. They’ve one hundred and ten beds, and according to the Night Super without the ’flu bug hitting them as hard as us, they’ve a chronic staff shortage. The junior night sister running I.C. impressed me, but she only had a couple of teenage kids to help her. I’m dead sure they’ll all do their best, and their best can’t be bad as Asden General has a very good reputation. But as nursing a patient with intensive care takes several pairs of skilled hands, it won’t be their fault if sometimes their best just isn’t bloody good enough. We think we have staff problems! Huh!’ He was silent. Then he said, ‘I felt an utter bastard walking out, just now.’

‘Joss. You had to.’

‘I know my medical something ethics! That doesn’t mean I’ve to love them, or myself!’

I looked at his tense profile. He had had a wash and his hair was neat, but I found his appearance as disturbing as that early morning in the office. The crash had given me more than a physical jolt. ‘Go ahead and hate yourself, but don’t expect me to join the hate-in.’

We were in the slow lane. He checked in the mirror then slowed more. ‘Why the other cheek?’

‘I have this weakness for living. If you hadn’t flung me clear, quite probably I’d now be dead. And as I doubt I could’ve lugged those men out alone ‒ and anyway wouldn’t have been there alone ‒ but for you, those three’d be dead. Would you fancy ending up burnt to a crisp?’

He shuddered. ‘Lay off! My stomach’s not strong enough!’ He smiled faintly, reluctantly. ‘This mean the war’s over?’

‘Until the next one.’

His smile deepened. ‘You had me worried. For an ugly moment I thought I must’ve clobbered your head when I brought you down. Were you hurt?’

‘Don’t think so. I don’t remember. Hey ‒ something else I’ve forgotten! Your date!’

‘Taken care of. I rang from the hospital. That reminds me ‒’ but he stopped as if he had suddenly decided not to share whatever he had remembered. His ‘What did you say the old girl’s name was?’ was an obvious after-thought.

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