of our F2 doctors, but it’s not going to be long before she makes registrar.’
She could feel her face going bright red and there was a tiny, tiny smile lifting the corner of Ed’s mouth. Oh, please, don’t let him say anything about Saturday night…
‘Good to meet you, Jane,’ he said politely.
Then she realised she’d been holding her breath, waiting for him to spill the beans. Clearly he wasn’t going to do that: because it wouldn’t reflect too well on him, either. She smiled at him in relief. ‘You, too, Edward—or do you prefer Ed?’
For a second, she could swear he mouthed ‘James Bond’, but then he said, ‘Ed. May I join you in your rounds?’
‘I—well, sure.’ She spread her hands. ‘You’re the senior. I guess you should lead.’
Ed smiled at her. ‘Patients are much more important than protocol. You already know them, so I’m happy for you to lead and introduce me while we’re there.’
‘I’ll leave you in Jane’s capable hands,’ Theo said, and headed back to his office.
‘Very capable,’ Ed said softly.
Oh, help.
‘I, um… Look, we probably need to talk, but for now can we keep this… well, just work?’ Jane asked.
‘For now,’ he agreed.
Before she could take him to the next patient, Iris hurried over. ‘We’ve just had a call from the ED. The mum’s twenty-four, she’s eleven weeks pregnant and she can’t stop being sick. Marina thinks it’s hyperemesis.’
‘We’re on our way,’ Jane said.
In the emergency department, she swiftly introduced Ed to Marina Fenton, the specialist registrar.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s hyperemesis. Poor woman—morning sickness is bad enough,’ Marina said. ‘I’ve already done bloods and sent them off for electrolyte levels, blood count and renal.’
‘Thanks, Marina—that’s great.’
‘Mrs Taylor’s through here.’ She showed them to the cubicle where a young woman was retching miserably into a bowl.
‘Mrs Taylor? I’m Jane Cooper and this is Ed Somers. Dr Fenton asked us to come down and see you. Can I get you a drink of water?’ Jane asked.
Mrs Taylor shook her head. ‘I can’t keep anything down.’
‘Taking small sips might help you feel a little bit better,’ Jane said gently, and stuck her head out of the cubicle for long enough to ask one of the auxiliaries to bring in a glass of water.
‘How long have you been feeling like this?’ Ed asked.
‘About a month. I knew you got morning sickness, I just didn’t expect it to be all day and all night and as bad as this.’ She retched again. ‘Sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Jane said, squeezing her hand.
The auxiliary brought in the water Jane had asked for, and Mrs Taylor managed a small sip. ‘Thank you. That’s made my mouth feel a bit less disgusting,’ she admitted.
‘Good. Have you talked to your family doctor or your midwife about your sickness?’ Ed asked.
‘I didn’t want to bother them.’ She shook her head. ‘My sister had it bad, too. She lost weight and felt lousy all the time for the first bit.’
Jane and Ed exchanged a glance; hyperemesis was known to run in families. But it was also more common in women carrying twins—or, more rarely, it could be caused by something more sinister. They needed to run some tests to rule out the nasties.
‘My boss made me come in. I was sick over a client. It was her perfume that set me off—it was so strong.’ Mrs Taylor bit her lip. ‘I really hope he forgives me.’
‘I’m sure he will. He sent you in because he was worried about you,’ Ed reassured her. ‘So, you’re about eleven weeks. Have you had a scan yet?’
‘No, that was meant to be next week. My Jason’s getting the day off to come with me.’ Worry skittered across her face. ‘Is there something wrong with the baby? Is that why I keep being sick like this?’
‘I think you have something called hyperemesis—it’s basically really bad morning sickness,’ Ed said. ‘I’ve treated mums before who’ve had the same thing. It’s really miserable for you, but you’re in the right place and we can do something to help you feel a lot better.’
‘Really?’ Mrs Taylor looked as if she didn’t quite dare believe them.
‘Really,’ Jane confirmed.
‘And it won’t harm the baby? Only my nan said she knew someone who took stuff to make them stop being sick and the baby was…’ She shuddered. ‘I feel like death warmed up, but I’d rather put up with that than risk anything happening to the baby.’
‘We won’t give you anything that’s not safe for the baby,’ Ed reassured her. ‘Dr Fenton told us she’s already done some blood tests, so we need to wait for the results of those. But in the meantime we’d like to give you a scan and see how the baby’s doing.’
‘Has anyone called your husband, or would you like us to call someone to be with you?’ Jane asked.
‘Jason’s on his way,’ Mrs Taylor said.
‘That’s great. We’ll to take you up with us to the maternity unit, then,’ Jane said.
‘And, because you’re quite dehydrated from being sick, I’d like to keep you in for a little while and put you on a drip to replace the fluids you’ve lost. That’ll make you feel a lot better, and we have one or two things that will help you stop being sick but won’t affect the baby,’ Ed reassured her.
By the time they’d taken Mrs Taylor up to the maternity unit, her husband had arrived. Ed ushered them in to the consulting room with the portable scanner, and Jane noticed that he was careful to make sure that the Taylors couldn’t see the screen, in case it was bad news.
‘What I’m going to do is to put a bit of gel on your stomach—sorry, it’s a bit cold, whereas down in ultrasound it’s always warm. All it does is help us get a better picture of the baby,’ Jane explained. ‘It’s not going to hurt you or the baby—I’m sure your midwife’s already told you this, but it’s all done by sound waves.’
Mrs Taylor retched again, and her husband held the bowl for her; when she’d finished, Jane wiped her face with a damp cloth.
‘This baby’s going to be an only child,’ Mrs Taylor said. ‘I’m not going through this again. Ever.’
Jane made a soothing noise and glanced at Ed. Please, don’t let it be a molar pregnancy causing the sickness, she thought.
Ed returned her glance; as if he could read her mind, he gave her a reassuring smile and the tiniest nod.
Thank God.
‘I’m pleased to say that the baby’s doing fine.’ Ed turned the screen to show them. ‘I did wonder if you might be having twins, because that sometimes makes the sickness much worse; but you’re having just one. Here’s the heart, beating nicely.’ He pointed out the baby’s heart. ‘Everything’s looking just as it should do.’ He made some quick measurements. ‘And you’re eleven and a half weeks.’
Mrs Taylor brushed back a tear. ‘The baby’s really all right?’
‘The baby’s absolutely fine,’ Ed reassured her.
‘Can we have a picture?’ Mr Taylor asked.
‘Unfortunately, this is a portable scanner, so we can’t print anything from it. But when you have your proper scan next week, they’ll