The Rebel and the Baby Doctor. Joanna Neil

‘What’s the problem, do you know?’

      ‘A traffic accident, as far as I understand it. A woman gave birth prematurely as a result, and it looks as though the baby is in difficulty. The parents are both injured and being treated right now. I think A and E want you to go and help with the baby and bring her over to Neonatology.’

      Phoebe sucked in a quick breath. ‘Okay, tell them I’m on my way.’

      Things were not going well when she arrived in the A and E department. The parents had been whisked off to the operating theatre, and the paediatric team working with the baby was concerned about the infant’s frail condition.

      ‘She’s not breathing,’ the nurse said, her expression anxious. ‘I’ve applied suction, but she’s still not responding.’

      Phoebe helped to resuscitate the infant. ‘Her heart rate is very slow,’ she said. Already she was reaching for the bag and mask oxygen equipment. After trying to inflate the baby’s lungs for a short time, she shook her head. ‘There’s little chest movement.’ There was a note of urgency in her voice. ‘I’m going to have to put in a tube to help her to breathe. We need to get her on a ventilator as soon as possible.’

      It was some half an hour later, after she had linked the infant to a heart monitor and taped a cannula in place at a vein in her arm so that they could administer medication, that she was ready to take her over to the neonatal unit.

      ‘Poor little scrap,’ the nurse said. ‘What a way to come into the world.’

      Phoebe nodded. It was scary to think that her mother and father were both undergoing operations in attempts to save their lives. ‘Let’s hope the parents make a good recovery. As to this little one, her lungs are still immature, and she needs all the help we can give her.’

      She glanced into the next treatment bay as she prepared to set off for the lift that would take her up to Neonatal. Connor was there, attending to a young boy of around eight years old, and for a moment she paused, drawn to watch him in action.

      The child was distressed and struggling to breathe, and she guessed that he was suffering from a worrying asthma attack. It looked as though he was in a bad state, but Connor was talking quietly to him all the time, his manner gentle and soothing.

      ‘This will help you, Charlie,’ he was saying. ‘Just relax and try to breathe in and let the medication seep into your lungs. It will help to open up your air passages and make you feel better.’ His voice was calm and evenly modulated, falling softly on Phoebe’s ears, and she realised that there was an almost hypnotic quality about it.

      The boy nodded, and Connor glanced down at his football shirt. ‘It looks as though you support the same team that I do,’ he said. ‘They did all right at their last match, didn’t they? Except for Bex having two left feet and falling over his boots. I don’t know where his head was that day, but it wasn’t with him on the pitch, was it?’

      The boy chuckled, and Connor went on, ‘Mind you, he made up for it with the penalty shot. Talk about whacking it in. It hit the back of the net so hard I thought the goalposts were going to tip over.’

      Charlie appeared to relax. His breathing was much easier now, and Phoebe could see that he was almost out of danger. Clearly, Charlie was in good hands.

      Connor turned and glanced towards her as she started on her way once more. She nodded to him and he gave her the thumbs-up sign.

      ‘Hi, there, Phoebe,’ he said cheerfully. ‘How about supper in the hospital restaurant later on, since you stood me up the other day? Jessica said she’d try to drop by around seven o’clock, and Alex is hoping he’ll be free by then.’

      ‘That sounds okay,’ she agreed. It would be good to catch up with Alex and find out if he was coping with Orthopaedics any better. Lately, with their different shift patterns, they had been like ships that passed in the night. ‘I’ll see if I can get away.’ She glanced at the baby in the incubator. There were no signs of respiratory distress, but her heart rate was still slow, and her oxygen saturation could have been better. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘This baby’s had a hard time coming into the world, and I need to get her up to the unit as quickly as possible.’

      ‘I heard about that,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll see you later.’

      As she moved away, she heard him say to the boy, ‘Now, there goes one very pretty doctor, don’t you think? She almost makes me wish I was ill so that she could come and pat my brow with a damp cloth.’

      The boy giggled.

      Phoebe went on her way. The man was incorrigible, but he certainly had a magic touch where the boy was concerned.

      She was more than ready for her break when suppertime came around. The baby had been suffering from seizures, and they were all worried for her safety.

      ‘You go off and get something to eat,’ Katie told her. ‘You’ve been on duty for hours, and it will do nobody any good if you start to wilt. It’s quiet enough around here for the moment.’

      Phoebe acknowledged the truth of that, and made her way down to the restaurant on the ground floor. Connor was already in there. He looked as fresh and energetic as if he had only just come on duty, and it was all she could do not to scowl at him. ‘I don’t know how you manage it,’ she said. ‘How do you stay so jaunty and unruffled? It’s as though nothing touches you.’

      ‘It comes from years of practice.’ He nodded towards the glass doors at the side of the restaurant. ‘Shall we go and sit out there? There aren’t too many people in the courtyard just now. It will be peaceful.’

      ‘Okay. I’ll come and join you just as soon as I’ve collected my food.’ There was no sign of Jessica or Alex, and it was already after seven o’clock. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to make it down.

      She chose a light cheese salad with crusty bread and a fruit tart to follow. Connor cast a swift glance over her tray as she set it down on the table. ‘It’s no wonder that you never put on any weight,’ he said. ‘You don’t eat enough to keep a sparrow alive.’

      She gave him a withering smile. ‘Unlike you. I don’t know where you put it all—and yet you never add an ounce of fat to your waistline, do you? You’re all lean and fit, as though you’ve just come from working out in the gym.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘In fact, I suspect that’s what you do. Otherwise, it’s just not fair.’

      He laughed, and stabbed his fork into a substantial cottage pie. His gaze wandered over her, taking in the fullness of her curves beneath the light cotton top she was wearing, and then drifted down over her narrow-fitting skirt to explore the length of her shapely legs. ‘It has to be said, though you’d still look good even with extra padding.’

      Her cheeks heated under that appreciative scrutiny. To distract herself from the hectic play of emotions that he evoked in her, she fixed him with an exasperated stare. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you do all the time…you lead people astray. It’s what you did when you encouraged your friends to stay out all night on Exmoor, and it’s what you did when you produced those bottles of cider a few weeks after you turned sixteen. You shared them among your friends. No thought for the consequences, just live for the moment.’ She glowered at him. ‘Just try telling Jessica to pile on the pounds, and she’ll give you short shrift.’

      He paused, his fork midway between his plate and his mouth. ‘Now, there you have one lady I wouldn’t like to cross.’ He nodded, a brooding expression on his face. ‘When she gets that look in her eyes, I know she means business.’