had been disastrous. He’d liked the woman—of course he had—but something just hadn’t been there the second time. The spark had gone. The thrill of being with someone new hadn’t been there and he’d gone home early.
Why did he suspect it would be very different with Leah?
Anyway he’d asked her if she was free to go on the department outing to Finley Towers, the amusement park. It had the UK’s highest, fastest rollercoaster and there was nothing he loved more than a rollercoaster.
A group trip would be fine, wouldn’t it? Safer. Less pressure on them to be alone together. And he would be able to see what she was like away from the hospital.
And out of bed!
Not that bed hadn’t been amazing. It had. It was just that he knew there was more with someone like Leah.
Someone like Leah... Of course there’s more. She’s going to be a mother.
That bothered him more than he cared to admit. He’d seen so many people lose who they were when they became parents. They forgot their own loves, their own passions, because they were so busy being Mum or Dad. Days became all about mealtimes and nappy changes and bedtime routines, and the people they’d been before becoming parents disappeared in all that care and concern and worry.
Where would Leah go?
How long would it take for her to disappear beneath the avalanche of baby care?
Irritated by the thought, he picked up his first patient file and saw that it was for a child with a cut above his eyebrow. Frowning, he went to the cubicle, and as he got closer could hear a cacophony of noise that only a large amount of children could produce. There was crying and tears, the urgent low voice of a parent trying to calm everyone down, and mischievous rebellion of children ignoring her urgings.
I’m not going to tolerate that noise whilst I’m working!
He yanked the curtain back, hoping that the sudden movement would make everyone pipe down, but he was barely noticed.
A mother sat on the edge of the bed, cradling one child to her, holding a tea towel against his head, whilst another child jumped on the bed, a smaller toddler rammed his toy car repeatedly into the wall and another sat in the chair, holding a book that had the ability to make irritating musical sounds at the press of a button.
‘Alfie Cotton?’ he asked.
The mother looked up, her face breaking into relief at the sight of him, a doctor. ‘Yes! Thank you! He’s got quite a large cut above his left eyebrow.’
Ben grabbed a pair of gloves from the dispenser on the wall and then got the mother to lower the tea towel for him to have a proper look. It wasn’t that big—maybe a centimetre—but it was enough to have caused what looked like a lot of blood loss. Head wounds were notorious for bleeding a lot.
‘How did it happen?’
‘He was bouncing on the bed and he fell off and hit the radiator on the wall. I told him not to do it! But they never listen.’
Considering there was a child on the bed behind her, also bouncing around, he could see quite clearly that they didn’t listen. Why had she brought them all with her to A&E? Perhaps she had no one she could trust to babysit?
Never mind, he’d have to get on with it. He needed to check the wound properly, to see whether it needed gluing or stitches, but first he’d have to clean it.
As he leaned forward for another look little Alfie screamed a protest and tried to slither from his mother’s arms.
‘Alfie, no! Sit still!’ His mother tried to hoist him back up.
Ben could tell this was going to be difficult. Perhaps he’d need those bubbles again?
‘I’ll just go and get what I need and then we’ll see what we can do, all right?’
He closed the curtain behind him and went to the room where all their equipment was laid out on trays stacked from ceiling to floor. He could get everything in here—plasters, tweezers, Vicryl acrylic for stitching, saline wash. All that he needed to help soothe or cure all manner of ills and injuries.
He let out a heavy sigh.
‘Hey.’
It was Leah. She stood in the doorway and smiled at him and he could have sworn his heart almost skipped a beat.
‘Hi.’
‘You look tense.’
‘I am tense.’
‘Oh, dear. The shift’s only just started. Need a hand with anything? Or anyone?’
‘Don’t you have a patient of your own?’
‘Just gone to X-Ray. Suspected fracture of the clavicle. Came off his bike and hit a railing. You?’
‘Child with a head wound. Only the mum has had to bring the entire brood and it’s like working in a nursery. Kids everywhere.’
She smiled. ‘I’m used to that. Do they bother you? Kids? I kind of get the feeling you’re not their biggest fan.’
‘Whatever gave that away?’ He raised an eyebrow and laughed.
She smiled at him. ‘Just some of the things that you say.’
‘I’m the oldest of three. I’ve done my fair share of hanging around with toddlers.’
‘Three kids? Your mum and dad must have loved having babies.’
He grabbed the glue. She had no idea what it had been like for him at home.
‘Having them—maybe. Looking after them? That was a different story.’
Now she frowned. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He never wanted to talk about it. Which was why the urge to tell her everything felt strange. He wanted her to know. Felt that she would sit and listen to him if he blurted it all out. The whole sorry mess. All he’d had to do.
He had to fight the urge to let it all come out of him, even though he knew Leah would understand. But it wasn’t right to burden her with all that. Although she’d shared a secret with him... It would balance them out, right?
Ben hesitated, torn between wanting to tell her everything and keeping it all to himself. As he always had done. His fear won out.
‘I’m okay. Though are you any good at blowing bubbles?’
‘Erm...yes...’
‘Good.’ He handed her a pot that came with a wand. ‘You can be my distraction technique. Follow me.’
He headed back to the cubicle, acutely aware of her following behind him. He introduced Leah to the flustered mum and explained what they were about to do.
‘I’m going to use glue to close the wound. It’s got nice straight edges, and it’s not bleeding any more, so it should come together quite nicely.’
The mum nodded.
‘We’ll do it with him sitting on your lap, as he seems comfortable there. Dr Hudson will try to distract him with bubbles as it might sting just a little when I put the glue on, so hold him quite firmly.’
‘Okay...’
Leah began blowing when Ben was ready to seal the wound and, as expected, little Alfie became mesmerised by the little bubbles floating in front of his face, reaching out to touch them and even blowing some of his own as Ben painted the glue onto the edges of the wound and applied small sterile strips to cover it afterwards.
‘There. All done.’
The mother laughed. ‘He didn’t even notice!’
‘The power of soapy water.’
Ben cleared away