The Surgeon’s Gift Read online

  Praise for

  Carol Marinelli:

  ‘A heartwarming story about taking a chance and not letting the past destroy the future. It is strengthened by two engaging lead characters and a satisfying ending.’

  —RT Book Reviews on The Last Kolovsky Playboy

  ‘Carol Marinelli writes with sensitivity, compassion and understanding, and Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella is not just a powerful romance, but an uplifting and inspirational tale about starting over, new beginnings and moving on.’

  —Cataromance.com

  on St Piran’s: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella

  If you love Carol Marinelli you’ll fall head over heels for Carol’s sparkling, touching, witty debut

  PUTTING ALICE BACK TOGETHER

  available from Mira® books

  About the Author

  CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

  Recent books by Carol Marinelli:

  Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™

  DR DARK AND FAR-TOO DELICIOUS

  (Secrets on the Emergency Wing)

  SECRETS OF A CAREER GIRL

  (Secrets on the Emergency Wing)

  NYC ANGELS: REDEEMING THE PLAYBOY

  (NYC Angels)

  SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL: AVA’S REAWAKENING

  (Sydney Harbour Hospital)

  HERS FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY?

  CORT MASON—DR DELECTABLE

  HER LITTLE SECRET

  ST PIRAN’S: RESCUING PREGNANT CINDERELLA

  (St Piran’s Hospital)

  Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance

  A LEGACY OF SECRETS

  (Sicily’s Corretti Dynasty)

  PLAYING THE DUTIFUL WIFE

  BEHOLDEN TO THE THRONE

  (Empire of the Sands)

  BANISHED TO THE HAREM

  (Empire of the Sands)

  AN INDECENT PROPOSITION

  A SHAMEFUL CONSEQUENCE

  The Surgeon’s Gift

  Carol Marinelli

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  CHAPTER ONE

  AFTER today, it would only get easier.

  Reminding herself for the umpteenth time, Rachael painted on a smile and took a deep breath before entering the office.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re the R. Holroyd rostered on for this afternoon?’ The beaming face of Helen Wells was as familiar as it was welcome.

  ‘The very same.’ Rachael cleared her throat as she dropped her bag to the floor and rummaged on the desk for a handover sheet. ‘Didn’t Admin tell you I was starting back this afternoon?’

  ‘When did Admin ever tell us anything? It just never clicked, what with the name change and everything. Had they said an R. Carlton was coming back we’d have splashed out on a cheesecake!’ Jumping down off her desk, Helen crossed the room and embraced Rachael in a huge bear hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Rachael.’

  ‘It’s good to see you, too,’ Rachael answered truthfully. Helen Wells wasn’t only an efficient charge nurse who ran the ward like clockwork, she was a kind woman who looked after her staff and was also a close friend.

  Or would have been a close friend if only Rachael had let her.

  ‘Are you on a late shift?’

  Helen nodded. ‘I’m doing a double shift, so I’ve been here all morning as well. We’re as short staffed as ever, so it’s great to see you. But not just for that,’ she added quickly. ‘We’ve all missed you. How are you doing?’

  Rachael glanced around the office, smiling at the unsure faces that greeted her. A couple of her colleagues smiled back briefly before pretending to examine their notes, others just downright stared. ‘Fine,’ she replied in a voice that was just a touch too loud and a touch too bright. ‘Although I might revise my opinion once I’ve heard the night shift’s handover. It looks as busy as ever out there.’

  ‘It certainly is, and if Hugh here would stop tapping away on the computer and let me at the desk, we might be able to get started with handover.’

  It was the first time Rachael had even noticed the doctor sitting at the desk, but she had been too busy concentrating on getting this first awkward greeting out of the way. Still, as he stood up, Rachael soon realised he wasn’t the type of man that would usually go unnoticed, unless you lived in Sweden, of course. There, no doubt, six-foot-five blonds with green eyes and clear complexions were falling from the rafters, or yodelling their way down the mountains in droves, or whatever it was gorgeous Swedes did, but here in an inner-city Melbourne hospital they cut quite a dash.

  Not, of course, that Rachael was remotely interested, it was a mere statement of fact.

  Nothing else.

  ‘Are you ladies waiting for me? I didn’t realise.’

  ‘No doubt you’re only too used to keeping the ladies waiting,’ Helen said in a teasing voice.

  ‘I happen to treat the ladies very well,’ he said with a slow smile in a deep, rich voice with not a trace of a Swedish accent, which discounted that theory. ‘At least, I’ve never had any complaints.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’ Helen said matter-of-factly. ‘One flash of that smile and you’d be forgiven anything. Hugh Connell here is our consultant plastic surgeon and resident heartthrob.’

  Definitely nothing else, Rachael decided as she blushed slightly under his scrutiny. The tiny mole on her cheek took on gigantic proportions in her mind, and she automatically assumed that this dashing plastic surgeon was measuring her up for a new nose as he offered his hand.

  ‘And this is Rachael Holroyd, formerly Carlton, one of our nursing sisters. Rachael’s back with us after a year away.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Rachael smiled accepting his hand.

  ‘Newly married?’ His eyes were smiling, his question utterly merited, given the snippet of information Helen had so readily parted with, but the gentle pre-handover murmur that had filled the office stilled, the silence broken only by a couple of nervous coughs as Rachael stood there, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

  ‘Newly divorced, actually.’ In an attempt to sound casual her voice came out too loud, too joky, and as she took her hand away she noticed a flicker of embarrassment flash over Hugh’s face as Rachael’s own colour deepened. ‘And loving every minute,’ she added, but her attempt to inject some humour into the embarrassing exchange only served to increase the awkwardness.

  It was Hugh that gave a slightly embarrassed cough this time. ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said, flashing a quick on-off smile which went nowhere near his eyes. With a brief nod he picked up his stethoscope and pager as Rachael sat down, her cheeks burning, trying and failing to focus on the handover sheet in front of her, aware she had made a total fool of herself.

  Again.

  It was an all too common occurrence these days, almost as if she didn’t know how to react to people any more. Even the most basic of polite exchanges seemed to end in awkward blushes and not for the first time Rachael questioned the wisdom of coming back to work. If she couldn’t deal with her colleagues, what chance would she have with the patients?

  But sitting moping at home hadn’t been getting her anywhere, and it certainly
wasn’t going to get the bills paid—there really hadn’t been any other choice but to come back to work. Anyway, Rachael consoled herself, at least she wouldn’t have to see that Hugh Connell much—after all, the surgical unit rarely had cosmetic patients. She was reading far too much into it. He’d probably forgotten the whole embarrassing exchange by now.

  So what if she had made an idiot of herself?

  At least she hadn’t cried.

  ‘The bad news is that all the beds are full,’ Helen started. ‘But the good news is that at least we can’t accept any more patients. Oh, and, Rachael, I don’t know if you’re aware of it but we’re no longer just a general surgical ward. We’ve got twelve cosmetic beds now or, as Hugh keeps reminding me, twelve ‘plastics’ beds, which doesn’t quite have the same ring to it if you ask me.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Rachael let out a groan as she ran her eye down her patient list. So much for avoiding Hugh!

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Helen said, but without any enthusiasm, completely misinterpreting Rachael’s misgivings. ‘I felt exactly the same.’

  ‘So when did this happen?’

  ‘Last month. The refurbishment of the private wing of the hospital is taking longer than expected so, rather than lose the admissions, they’re being ‘blended’ into the public wards—and that’s Admin’s expression, not mine! The surgical wards were all supposed to take eight each, but because our ward’s new and has the best facilities we’ve been lumbered with more than our share.’

  ‘So they’re private patients?’

  Helen rolled her eyes. ‘Private patients on a public ward—not the greatest mix at the best of times, and they’re all constantly pushing their bells, asking for their water jugs to be moved two inches to the right. But what can you expect when they’ve got a doctor like Hugh?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He treats them like china. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is too much trouble for him.’

  ‘Well, he’s being paid to be nice,’ Rachael grumbled, but Helen shook her head.

  ‘He’s just nice, full stop, as well as a good doctor, which makes it hard to point out just how difficult it can be. He’d move the jug, so to speak, and move it again and again if it would keep his beloved patients happy. So a word of warning for you when you’re in charge—it doesn’t matter if it’s midnight on New Year’s eve, if one of Hugh’s patients is unwell he wants to be informed. So whereas with most doctors you might sit on things for a while, don’t even think about it with Hugh—he likes to keep his finger on the pulse.’

  ‘He can keep it on mine.’ Bev, one of the other nurses, laughed.

  ‘And mine,’ Trevor chimed in, which had everyone in stitches until Helen let out a yelp as she glanced at the clock. ‘Come on, guys, let’s get handover out of the way.’

  Rachael knew that once the report was over she wasn’t going to get away that lightly from Helen, and was already half expecting it when Helen called her back as she made her way out onto the ward.

  ‘Here’s your pager,’ she said, handing Rachael the small fluorescent orange bleeper.

  ‘What on earth is this for?’

  ‘You’ve got Orange Bay.’ She laughed at Rachael’s bemused face. ‘The new system is finally under way. Now, when a patient presses the call button, their allocated nurse is alerted directly by their pager.’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Rachael asked, slowly turning the small pager over.

  ‘Oh, I’m serious all right. You can’t escape for a moment, not even when you go the bathroom. And look at this.’ She tapped the computer in front of her. ‘This records how long it takes for you to answer the call bell—a bit ‘‘Big Brother’’ if you ask me, but you soon get used to it.’

  ‘And here was me thinking I’d take up where I left off. A year’s a long time in nursing these days.’

  ‘It’s a long time, full stop,’ Helen said gently. ‘We really have missed you, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You’re looking great.’

  Rachael gave a thin laugh. ‘You mean I’ve lost weight.’

  ‘Not just that, you look fabulous.’

  ‘Amazing what a year of stress will do,’ Rachael said dryly. ‘I’m sure Richard would still be able to find fault.’ She tapped the edge of her cheekbone. ‘I mean, look, horror of horrors, I’ve still got a mole.’

  Helen rolled her eyes. ‘So have a couple of supermodels I can think of but, then, no doubt, that ex-husband of yours would find fault even with one of them.’

  ‘Look, Helen, I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls and letters …’

  ‘You had enough on your mind.’ Helen waved her hand dismissively. ‘I’m just glad that you got them, glad that you knew I was thinking of you. So how are coping?’

  ‘Getting there.’ Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Helen, I know you mean well, and I don’t want to come across rude, it’s just that …’

  ‘It’s none of my business?’

  ‘No,’ Rachael answered quickly, somewhat taken aback at Helen’s take on things. ‘I just can’t talk about it. I know talking is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, but I just can’t, especially not today. It’s hard enough as it is, coming back to work, without bringing it all up.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Helen looked at her shrewdly. ‘But if you ever change your mind, you know that I’m here.’

  Rachael nodded and turned to go, but Helen hadn’t quite finished. ‘I suppose a girls’ night in with a bottle of wine and a pile of slushy films is out of the question, then?’

  ‘With no secret agenda?’ Rachael questioned. ‘No waiting for me to open up and reveal all?’

  Helen nodded. ‘Scout’s honour. I’ve missed you, Rachael, and our chats.’

  There was twenty years’ difference in age between the two women. Helen, happily overweight, blissfully married and successfully juggling four boys with her career, was a world away from a rather brittle Rachael who, as well as being far too thin, was newly single and having enough trouble juggling just getting up in the morning.

  ‘I’ll bring the videos, you can supply the wine. You did manage to get a couple of decent bottles from the divorce settlement, I hope?’

  Rachael grinned. ‘A couple Richard didn’t know about.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it, then.’ Helen’s tone changed, adopting a slightly more businesslike attitude she peered at her work sheet. Friends they might be, but at work Helen was definitely the boss.

  ‘I’ve just given you beds one to four this afternoon. They’re all pretty straightforward—two surgical, two cosmetic, all a couple of days post-op except for Sheila Cosgrove, who’s awaiting her surgery, so hopefully you’ll have a gentle start back.’ As Rachael’s pager sprang into life, Helen started to laugh. ‘Famous last words. Hailey Watkins will run you ragged.’

  However, it wasn’t Hailey buzzing but Sheila Cosgrove, eighty years old and awaiting the removal of a large abdominal tumour. The delay in her operation for once had nothing to do with waiting times and bed shortages. Instead, her condition was complicated by a long history of heart problems and other medical ailments which were all causing problems at the moment. Her operation, though necessary, was just too much of a risk while her medical condition was so unstable, and a lot of specialists were playing their parts in getting Sheila relatively well before she underwent surgery.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Cosgrove. I’m Rachael Holroyd, I’ll be looking after you this afternoon. What seems to be the problem?’

  ‘I’ve got some pain.’

  Pulling the curtains around to give Sheila some privacy from the other three patients in the bay, Rachael made her way over to the bed. ‘In your stomach?’ she asked, making to pull back the sheets.

  ‘No—here.’ Sheila’s hand reached up to her chest as Rachael checked her handover sheet.

  ‘You suffer with angina—is it the same type of pain?’ Sheila nodded as Rachael checked her drug chart. ‘I’ll go and get you some spray,
Sheila, and then I’ll do a set of obs.’

  As Rachael made her way swiftly across the small ward, the patient in bed three called her back. ‘Sister?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Watkins?’

  ‘Hailey, please. It’s Rachael, isn’t it? I remember you from last year when it was the old ward—I was in, having my appendix out.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Rachael said, a smile breaking on her face as she remembered her patient from the previous year. ‘I thought your name sounded familiar.’

  ‘I said then I’d be back for a breast enlargement before my fortieth birthday, do you remember?’

  Rachael didn’t, but she smiled warmly as Hailey chatted on in her slightly dizzy voice. ‘Dr Connell told me I need to drink more. Would you mind filling up my water jug?’

  She couldn’t at the moment, Sheila’s chest pain had to take precedence, but Rachael gave an easy smile. ‘Sure, I’m just caught up right now, but I’ll be back in a moment and then I’ll come and make sure you’re comfortable.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Turning her attention back to her magazine, Hailey suddenly looked up. ‘By the way, what did you have?’

  The simple sentence stopped Rachael in her tracks. Half turning to go, she literally froze for a moment, hesitating at Hailey’s question.

  ‘You were just about to go off on maternity leave when I was in here.’

  ‘That’s right.’ For something to do, Rachael busied herself pulling out the bedspread and tucking it again, a futile task, and totally needless, but it beat talking about her personal life.

  ‘So what did you have?’

  ‘A girl,’ Rachael said with a brisk smile, wheeling Hailey’s table into perfect alignment with her bed and shuffling a pile of magazines into shape. ‘Look, I have to go,’ she said apologetically. ‘I’ll be back to you soon.’

  Sheila’s respirations were raised and her hands were shaking so much she wasn’t able to work the little pump spray. Though Rachael had no doubt at all that while Sheila did indeed have chest pain and was having an angina attack, anxiety was playing a large part in her symptoms, exacerbating her pain and generally making things worse. Helping her with the spray, Rachael spoke in gentle tones. Although she had only just met her patient, Rachael noted with satisfaction how her comforting words seemed to be working as gradually Sheila’s respiration rate and pulse settled to a more normal state.