on the staff today, someone else to get used to and have to guide for a while. She’d been wrong about the day not getting any worse, she thought irritably as she pulled on her hospital greens. No doubt about it, she could feel a bad mood coming on. Of course she couldn’t begrudge Sue taking six months’ maternity leave, although she was going to miss her terribly and the fun they had. When she was feeling down, Sue would cheer her up with a joke or a teasing comment: she was a kindred spirit, and life at Delford General was going to be that much duller now without her. What she needed, thought Jandy, pulling her blonde hair back into the ponytail she wore for work, was a bit of excitement—something new to revitalise her and brighten up the everyday humdrum. And the chances of that happening at the moment were more remote than winning the lottery.
The man stood for a moment before the entrance to the A and E department looking up at the square new wing that had been attached to the old Victorian hospital. He was a tall figure, the collar of his jacket turned up against the cold, and head and shoulders above the people swirling around him. So here he was—back where he’d been born, starting over again and picking up the pieces of his life. Soon London would become a distant memory, and Delford was going to be his home once more…his and Livy’s, and he’d just have to make the best of it.
Straightening his shoulders as if bracing himself for his new life, he picked up the briefcase by his feet and started to make his way purposefully through the automatic doors into the A and E waiting room. He glanced briefly at some parents and two small children in one corner, and a man in a wheelchair gazing at a television on the wall showing a quiz show. Evidently the rush hadn’t yet started.
‘Patrick Sinclair—locum registrar for A and E checking in,’ he said to the man behind the glass window in Reception.
The staff for the daytime shift were in the kitchen, all grabbing a drink before the day started in earnest and some crisis erupted. Tim Vernon, the dapper little A and E consultant, was walking briskly out of the room as Jandy came in. Two junior nurses were gossiping and Bob Thoms, one of the registrars, was peering at the duty roster, an anxious frown creasing his brow—he was a great worrier. He turned round as Jandy came in.
‘Oh, great—what a relief, you’re here! I thought you might be ill or something and we’d be short-staffed!’ he exclaimed. ‘You OK?’
‘A burst pipe, no plumber and water all over the place,’ she said gloomily. ‘Worst of all I’ve had notice that the landlord wants to sell the house. Marvellous start to a Monday.’
Sister Karen Borley, large and kindly, handed her a cup and smiled at her sympathetically—she knew Jandy’s mornings were a little chaotic and that she was only ever late if there’d been an emergency of some kind.
‘Here you are, my girl—this’ll perk you up.’ She looked sympathetically at Jandy. ‘You’ll be looking for somewhere else to live, then—I’ll keep my eyes open.’
Jandy took a gulp of scalding coffee and closed her eyes gratefully. ‘Ah, thanks, Karen, you’re a pal. Umm, that coffee’s good…I’m coming round a bit now.’ She turned to the others. ‘Tell me, what’s this new reg like?’
‘He looks capable, although I think Tilly might find another adjective.’ Karen laughed. ‘He’s from one of the big London teaching hospitals and has a wonderful CV, so he should be sound enough.’
‘I hope he’s easy to work with,’ Jandy said mournfully. ‘It won’t be the same without Sue.’
‘If I know anything about these hot-shot doctors from down South, he’ll have an ego as big as an elephant and an inflated idea of his ability,’ commented Bob Thoms tetchily.
A picture of Terry, Abigail’s father, floated into Jandy’s mind—he had been a high-flying business man from London who had felt demeaned coming up further north than Watford Junction! Jandy had mistaken his arrogance for a kind of sophisticated confidence and had been immensely flattered by his attention—she’d been easily taken in. She wouldn’t be fooled a second time, but the thought of working with another person like that was not a comforting one.
‘So coming up to Delford will be small time to him, I suppose,’ she sighed. ‘I wonder why he’s come?’
‘We’ll get used to him,’ said Karen, picking up some files and walking towards the door. ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes for the handover from the night shift—I’m just off to check that the porter’s put the waste bins round the back. You come with me, Valerie,’ she added to one of the student nurses. ‘I’ll show you where I like my supplies kept—I can’t bear mess.’
Tilly Rodman, the other student nurse, rolled her eyes as Karen and Valerie went out. ‘I can’t believe that sister said the new reg is only “Capable”! He’s gorgeous! My blood pressure went up like a rocket when I saw him…’
Bob Thoms drained his coffee and sighed. ‘I’d like to know what this man has that I haven’t…’
He left the room, but not before his eyes met Jandy’s in amused exasperation. Tilly fell in love regularly with the senior registrars even if they looked only half-human. She would be in ecstasies about him for weeks, convinced that this was The One, as she put it on the many occasions she fell for someone.
Tilly had yet to learn, thought Jandy wryly, that looks weren’t everything. In her experience handsome didn’t always mean kind or thoughtful—sometimes it disguised selfish and cruel.
She rinsed her mug under the tap and dried it vigorously with a tea towel. What on earth did she know about men anyhow? It had been so long since she’d been out on a date—everyday life had taken over and any offers were quickly rebuffed. After Terry all her confidence had gone where relationships were concerned—she didn’t want to be hurt again and her priority now was little Abigail. Anyway, her sister had enough assurance when it came to men for both of them!
‘Frankly, Tilly,’ she said briskly, as she folded the towel neatly and hung it on a rail, ‘as far as I’m concerned, the new registrar can look like Godzilla as long as he can do the job. Unless he can patch someone up who’s been in an RTA and send them home better than they came in, I can assure you that a whole team of rugby-playing registrars dressed only in their birthday suits wouldn’t interest me…’
Tilly’s eyes swivelled to look at the door behind Jandy, and widened slightly, then she gave a little giggle. ‘Oops!’ she muttered.
Jandy whirled round and reddened. ‘Oh…er, hello,’ she said lamely to the tall, broad man who stood in the doorway. She was conscious of a strong patrician face and dark blue eyes looking into hers, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
Trust her to make a fool of herself, she thought ruefully. A flustered glance at the man confirmed that with his formidable physique he was definitely the sort who would like roaring around a rugby pitch on a wet Saturday afternoon or pounding the streets in an invigorating daily run. He was almost certainly the new registrar, and he looked every inch the super-confident hot-shot doctor from London, as Bob Thoms had put it!
His gaze flickered over her in a mildly interested manner, taking in her slightly flushed cheeks and wide dark brown eyes.
‘I don’t normally turn up for work in a birthday suit,’ he remarked blandly. ‘But I do play rugby and I hope I can send the patients home in fairly good shape!’
He had a deep attractive voice—‘well bred’ was the expression that sprang to mind.
Jandy allowed herself a prim smile, and said in a dignified tone, ‘I’m just trying to explain to Tilly here that expertise is more important than anything…’
‘Of course, I couldn’t agree more,’ the man said, nodding gravely. ‘I’m Patrick Sinclair, by the way—taking over from Sue Gordon. I was told that there might be some coffee going if I was lucky.’
His sudden smile took her by surprise, rather like the sun coming out from a cloud, and