Resisting Her Rebel Doc (11 page)

Angry sparks flared in his eyes. ‘Don’t you think David suffered just as much as I did? He lost her too, you know, and he was younger than me. She was a huge loss to all of us.’

‘I know. But there’s something that’s been burning inside you ever since it happened. I saw it in your face after the accident. I knew there was something you weren’t telling me...something you kept locked up inside. What is it, Brodie? Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong?’

He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and pulled in a deep breath, bending his head so that she wouldn’t see his face. When he spoke, finally, it was almost a whisper. ‘It was my fault,’ he said.

She frowned. ‘How could it be your fault? You weren’t there. It was dark and there was a rainstorm—the roads were treacherous. She went into a skid on a bend in a country lane and the car overturned. How was that your fault? How could you even think it?’

‘I was sixteen. I’d stayed out too long in town—way past when I was supposed to be home—and the buses weren’t running. I didn’t have the money for a taxi, so I phoned home and asked for a lift.’

His voice was low so she strained to hear what he was saying. He took a shuddery breath and went on, ‘Dad answered the phone. He was furious because I’d been irresponsible and he told me to walk home in the rain. It was twelve miles, and I argued with him, kicked up a fuss, which made him worse. He was going to put the phone down on me but my mother came on the line and wanted to know where I was. She came out to fetch me because he refused.’

His hands clenched into fists. ‘It was my fault she died,’ he said. ‘I should have walked home. In the end, the police came and found me and told me what had happened. My dad didn’t speak to me for days.’

A small gasp escaped her. ‘I didn’t know...about the row, I mean. I’m so sorry, Brodie.’ She stood up and put her arms around him. ‘It was an awful thing to happen, but it wasn’t your fault. Lots of teenagers get into scrapes and cause their parents hassle. You can’t go on blaming yourself.’

‘But I do.’ He pulled a face. ‘Logically, I know all the reasoning, the explanations—but in my heart I feel the guilt all the time. I don’t feel I have the right to be happy. I didn’t know how to handle it when I was younger, but later I decided to try to make some kind of reparation by going into medicine. It doesn’t appease my guilt but it helps, a bit.’

‘Believe me, you’ve done everything you can. And now you have to put it behind you. Your mother wouldn’t want you to go on blaming yourself. She wouldn’t want you to waste your life feeling guilty.’

His brow creased. ‘No, perhaps not.’

‘Definitely not. She was always there for you, Brodie. She loved you. She would want you to be happy. And I think she would have wanted you to make up with your dad.’

She rested her cheek against his. ‘She would have hated the way your father reacted afterwards, not speaking to you, but have you ever thought that maybe, once he was over the initial shock, that he felt guilty too? You asked him to come and get you and he refused—maybe, if he’d been driving, he’d have handled the road conditions differently. Perhaps that’s why you and he can’t get on—you both feel that you’re equally to blame for what happened.’

He sighed heavily. ‘I know...I know...you’re probably right. I’ve been over and over it in my mind. But I don’t see how we can resolve things after all this time. I stayed away because I wasn’t wanted but now I’ve come back here to work, he does his best to avoid me.’

‘Does he? Are you sure about that?’ She straightened, letting her arms fall to her sides. ‘Why did he take part in the filming today? He didn’t have to do it. He could have found an excuse and stayed away. But he didn’t, Brodie. He came along, knowing you would be here. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. Don’t you agree?’

‘I suppose so.’ His mouth made a crooked, awkward line. ‘The truth is, I’m not actually sure I want to make up with my dad. He treated me harshly and it left a scar.’

‘You’ve both been scarred. It’s time to start the healing process.’

He gave her a long, assessing look. ‘When all’s said and done, I think that’s what I like about you, Caity. You’ve always made me look at the big picture, made me face up to what I’m doing with my life; shown me what a mess I’m making...even if it’s not what I want to know at the time.’

‘Maybe I do it because I care about you,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t think you’re making a mess of things—you’re doing the best you can in the circumstances. I want to help you. I don’t want to see you hurting.’

And maybe she did it because she loved him...because she’d always loved him, though she hadn’t always recognised it.

His revelations had shocked her to the core, but now she understood why he had so many doubts about himself. Perhaps this tragedy of his childhood, together with the uncertainty of his parentage and the difficult relationship with his father, were all part of the reason why he couldn’t commit to love.

For herself, she had come to realise that her feelings for him went very deep, far more than she had allowed herself to acknowledge until this moment. He might not feel the same way about her, didn’t even know what he wanted right now, but she would look out for him all the same. She couldn’t help herself.

CHAPTER SIX

‘I
HAVE
TO
go over to the hospital to deal with a couple of things that have cropped up,’ Brodie said. It was Sunday morning; he’d surprised Caitlin by appearing on her doorstep some time after breakfast.

She was dressed casually in a short-sleeved shirt and pencil-line skirt that faithfully outlined her curves. She was inwardly thrilled that he appeared totally distracted for a moment as he looked at her, until he shook his head, as though to clear it.

‘Uh, something...something’s happened with one of your patients—a reaction to the medication she was prescribed—and I wondered if you want to come with me. It’s Janine, the five-year-old with the chest infection.’

‘Heavens, yes, of course I’ll come with you.’ She was appalled by the news and immediately on the alert. ‘Is she all right?’

‘I believe so. It looks as though she’s allergic to the penicillin she was given this morning. Her throat swelled up, she was wheezing and she has an all-over rash. The registrar acted quickly to put things right, but obviously the parents are upset, so I want to go and talk to them.’

‘Okay.’ She made sure Daisy and the puppies were safely ensconced in the utility room and grabbed her jacket, going out with him to his car.

The roads were fairly clear of traffic but Brodie drove carefully as usual and appeared to be deep in thought. ‘You’re very quiet,’ she commented. ‘Are you worried about the situation at the hospital?’

He shook his head. ‘These things happen. It’s no one’s fault, and the little girl is all right.’

‘Okay.’ She glanced at him, noting the straight line of his mouth. Was he dwelling on what they’d talked about yesterday, about his problems with his father? ‘Is it your dad, then? Are you going to try to sort things out with him this afternoon when the film crew set up again?’

He shrugged. ‘I haven’t given it much thought. I prefer not to think about it.’

It was clear he wasn’t going to talk about it and she was disappointed. Maybe that was selfish on her part, but she couldn’t help feeling that sorting out the problems from his past was the key to his chance of true happiness for the future.

Would that future include her? Something in her desperately wanted to keep him in her life but, at this point in time, who could tell if it would come about? More importantly, would any relationship last? He had more than enough problems to overcome and, as for herself, she’d been through a lot of heartache; she didn’t want to put herself through any more. Caring had been her downfall. Somehow, she had to be strong, put up defences and guard herself against being hurt.

And right now they both had more pressing matters to deal with. Of course he was right to stay focused.

At the hospital, Brodie showed Janine’s distraught parents into his office and invited them to make themselves comfortable in the upholstered chairs. The room was designed to put people at ease—carpeted underfoot and fitted out with pale gold beechwood furniture.

‘Unfortunately, Janine had an allergic reaction to the penicillin,’ he told them. ‘It’s fairly unusual, but luckily the doctor on duty caught it quickly and gave her an injection of adrenaline. We’ll give her steroid medication as well for a short time, and obviously she needs to have a different antibiotic.’ He frowned. ‘The allergy wasn’t noted before this on her records, so I’m assuming this is the first time she’s had a reaction like that?’ He looked at the parents for confirmation.

The girl’s mother nodded. ‘She’s always been healthy up to now and not needed penicillin. We were just so shocked when we saw what was happening to her.’

‘That’s understandable.’ Brodie was sympathetic.

‘I’m so sorry this happened to her,’ Caitlin said. ‘We hoped that the penicillin would resolve the problem of her infection but clearly she’ll need to avoid it in any form from now on.’

‘We’ll inform her GP,’ Brodie said. ‘And a note will be made in the records. This shouldn’t happen again but you’ll need to tell any medical practitioner of the allergy if they plan on prescribing antibiotics for her.’

‘We’ll do that,’ the father said. ‘Thank you both for taking the trouble to come and talk to us. It’s been a worrying time.’

‘I know it must have been very distressing for you,’ Brodie said. ‘But I’ve spoken to the registrar and you can be reassured that Janine is all right. She won’t suffer any long-lasting effects and the rash will fade in a couple or so days.’

They spoke for a little while longer then, as they were leaving the office, the staff nurse took Caitlin to one side. ‘I have a mother here who is worried about her baby,’ she said quietly. ‘Seeing that you’re here, would you have a word with her?’

‘Of course.’

‘You might as well use my office,’ Brodie said. He lightly touched her arm in a gesture of reassurance. ‘I expect this thing with the mother is something you can sort out easily enough.’

Caitlin hoped so too.

‘I have to go and meet up with my animal therapy volunteer,’ Brodie said. ‘She rang me earlier to say she’d like to come in—but I’ll catch up with you later.’

‘Okay.’

The nurse handed her the baby’s thin file and she skimmed the notes quickly. By the time the young mother arrived at the office with the infant in her arms, she was fully prepared.

‘How can I help you?’ she asked with a smile, inviting her to sit down in a comfy armchair.

‘It’s just that the surgeon tried to explain things to me, but I don’t really understand what’s happening to my baby.’ The young mother held her baby close to her, wrapping her more firmly in her shawl and looking anxiously at Caitlin. ‘Olivia’s only five weeks old—she keeps being sick and she’s losing weight. I’m really worried about her. Why can’t she keep her milk down?’

‘I know this is upsetting for you, but really, it’s a simple, straightforward operation,’ Caitlin answered kindly. ‘I’ll get some paper and a pen and see if I can draw it for you.’

Swiftly, she drew the outline of a baby’s stomach, showing the opening into the intestine. ‘Usually, see, the opening is wide enough to let the milk pass through—but sometimes the muscle here is thick and causes a blockage. When that happens, the milk can’t get from the stomach to the intestine and the baby brings it back up. It’s a forceful, projectile vomiting, as you’ve discovered, rather than a gentle regurgitation of excess milk.’

‘How will the surgeon put it right? Is it a big operation? Will it leave a scar?’

‘The incision will be very small, near the belly button, and there shouldn’t be much of a scar at all, once it’s all healed up. The surgeon will cut the muscle and that will cause the opening to be wider.’

‘Okay, I get that, I think.’ The young woman frowned. ‘The doctor said she would be admitted to hospital today but they wouldn’t operate until tomorrow. What does it mean? Will you be doing tests and so on?’

‘Mainly for the next few hours we’ll be making sure that she’s not dehydrated—that’s our biggest concern, so she’ll have a fluid line inserted in a vein. It won’t hurt her, but the repeated vomiting means she’s lost a lot of fluid and it needs to be put right, along with minute traces of sodium and potassium and so on that might be out of balance. We’ll need to do some blood tests to check that all’s well.’

‘All right.’ The woman nodded, seemingly reassured. ‘Thanks for explaining it to me.’ She gently rocked the baby in her arms, soothing her. ‘How long will she need to be in hospital?’

‘Until about two or three days after the surgery to make sure she’s feeding properly and that her temperature and blood pressure and so on are normal.’

The girl looked troubled. ‘Will I be able to stay with her?’

‘Yes, we have a room where you can sleep and still be close to Olivia. The nurse will show you where you can put your things—and if you think of any more questions, just ask. We’re all happy to help.’

‘Thanks.’

A nurse came to show her where the baby would be looked after and Caitlin, relieved that she’d been able to help, went in search of Brodie. He was in one of the patients’ bays.

He smiled as Caitlin entered the room. A woman was with him, a slim, middle-aged woman with a kindly face, and she had a calm-looking yellow Labrador on a lead by her side.

Caitlin watched as the woman introduced the dog to the children. They patted and stroked him and Brodie was smiling, looking totally relaxed. Maybe a dog was good therapy for Brodie too, she mused.

‘He’s like a giant, cuddly teddy bear,’ Jason said, laughing in delight. The four-year-old was getting on well now, off the oxygen for the most part, but having brief sessions with the nebuliser every few hours. He was sitting in the chair by his bed with his parents looking on.

The other little boy, Sammy, two years old and still with his leg in a cast, was much more reticent. He was in hospital briefly for further tests. He too was seated; now he cautiously reached out to touch the dog’s head but pulled his hand back when the dog turned to look at him with big, brown eyes.

‘It’s all right, he won’t hurt you,’ the dog’s owner told him. ‘He loves children and he likes being stroked.’ She crouched down to his level and demonstrated.

Sammy seemed to take to her. ‘What’s his name?’ he asked in a timid voice.

‘Well, we call him Toffee, because he’s such a gorgeous toffee colour. I think it suits him, don’t you?’

Sammy giggled. ‘Toffee,’ he said and giggled again. ‘Toffee...’ He bent over, laughing, as if he found that hilariously funny. Recovering himself, he looked at the Labrador once more and tentatively reached out to stroke him. ‘Toffee’s a sweetie, what you eat,’ he said, chuckling.

Toffee’s owner smiled and Sammy’s mother said cheerfully, ‘Well, he is a bit of a sweetie, isn’t he? He’s lovely.’ She looked at the woman and then at Brodie. ‘I’m so glad you brought him in to see us. It’s been the best thing for Sammy—for Jason too, from the looks of things.’

Both boys were patting the dog now, their troubles forgotten for the time being. Caitlin relaxed, seeing her young charges happy and on the mend.

‘That worked out really well,’ she commented to Brodie when they went for lunch in the cafeteria. ‘I’m glad we came in this morning.’

‘So am I. Anyway, I wanted to be here when the dog was brought in. I think he’ll be a great hit with the children. He certainly brought Sammy out of his shell.’

‘He did. We’ll have to try the dog with children who are in wheelchairs—there won’t be any danger of them being accidentally nudged and he’ll cheer them up no end.’ They filled their trays with a Sunday roast dinner—beef, Yorkshire puddings with roast potatoes and an assortment of vegetables—and went to sit at a table in the far corner of the room.

Brodie glanced at Caitlin as he started to eat. ‘I meant to tell you, I heard from Matt the other day.’ His gaze was thoughtful, pondering. ‘He phoned.’

‘Oh yes?’ She stared at him, suddenly very still.

‘He’s been back at work for a while now and he was asking about you. He wondered how you were doing.’ She nodded slowly, taking that in, and he went on, ‘He said to tell you the little boy you were treating—the one with the infection in his knee—is completely better now and fully mobile. He came to the outpatients’ clinic the other day.’

‘I’m glad about that.’ Molly must have told him she wanted to follow up on the boy. She looked at Brodie guardedly. Matt hadn’t phoned only to update her, had he? ‘What did you say to him?’

He lifted a dark brow in query. ‘About how you were doing?’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She hadn’t thought about Matt recently but now, at the mention of him, her palms were clammy and her mouth was dry. Her hand trembled a little so she laid down her fork and rested her fingers beside her plate. Brodie’s blue eyes followed the action.

‘I told him you were doing fine—no thanks to him, since he’d treated you so badly.’

She gave a small gasp. ‘You said that? But Brodie, he’s your friend...’

He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say too much to him about it at the wedding—it was the wrong time—but I wanted him to know that I didn’t like the way he’d behaved towards you.’

She shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t have done that—it was between me and him.’

His blue gaze was steady. ‘He was my friend, yes, my best friend, so I could be straight with him. I didn’t like it in the first place when I heard he’d started dating you; all kinds of bad feelings swept over me...jealousy, for the most part...but when he took up with Jenny I had mixed feelings. I was glad it was over between you because it meant you were free—but I was concerned for you.’

Her eyes widened a fraction. He’d been jealous? ‘I’d no idea you were keeping tabs on me.’

‘I’ve often enquired after you—talked to people I know, kept in touch with your mother from time to time.’ His mouth flattened. ‘Anyway, I told Matt you were getting on well in your new job, that it was great living next door to you and I wished I’d moved in sooner. It’s all true, of course.’ His gaze meshed with hers.

She smiled faintly at his admission. It made her feel better, knowing he liked being near to her, and she expelled her breath in a soft sigh. ‘I thought I was in love with him, that we would get married, but I had it all wrong, didn’t I? How is it possible to make a mistake like that? It’s left me so that I don’t know if I can trust my feelings any more.’

‘Yes, I know. But you could have ended up in a bad marriage. So maybe you had a lucky escape.’

She tried a smile. ‘Then again, we could have been okay. Marriage is what you make it. It depends what you put into it.’

He shook his head. ‘You’d both have had to work at it, and Matt obviously wasn’t prepared to do that. Something must have been out of sync for him to go off with Jenny the way he did.’

‘Yes, you pointed that out once before.’ She pressed her lips together, trying not to let her emotions show. After all this time she was still on fragile ground, and she sensed that Brodie was pushing things, testing her to see if she would stumble.

‘Have you given it any thought?’

She nodded. ‘I have but I’m still not exactly sure what happened,’ she said cautiously. ‘All I can think is...’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve always tried to handle situations by myself the best way I can. Ever since my dad died, I’ve tried to be independent, to make sure Mum was all right. But Jenny was never like that. She needed help—with her car, with her state of mind. Things had gone wrong for her and she was a damsel in distress. She’s often needy and I think that must have appealed to Matt. Perhaps he needs to be with someone who will rely on him for support. She brings out the protector in him, whereas I... Perhaps I don’t have that same vulnerability.’