Allegra, I know we haven’t had a great start to our working relationship but I wanted to apologise for my part in last night’s … er … unfortunate conversation, as you called it. I have no intention of speaking to Patrick Naylor about you. From what I’ve seen, you are a very competent anaesthetist with a high level of compassion for patients.’
‘Thank you …’
‘However, I did want to advise you about your handling of Keith Lowe.’
Allegra felt herself stiffen. ‘Oh?’
‘He’s still in shock over what’s happened. Also, I don’t think he’s the touchy-feely sort. A lot of men aren’t. I was watching from bed four. He seemed very stiff and uncomfortable at touching the child.’
She frowned at him. ‘So what are you saying?’
‘I think it would be wise to go slowly with him in regard to your coma recovery plan. Somehow Keith Lowe doesn’t strike me as a man who would be comfortable singing lullabies to his kid, no matter what the circumstances.’
‘I wasn’t thinking along the lines of lullabies, but I do think it’s important Mr Lowe speaks to his son at the very least.’
‘True. I agree. But the man’s trying to come to terms with the as yet unanswered question of whether or not his wife tried to do herself in and take the child with her. To make matters worse, Kate is one bed away. He’s edgy and very uncomfortable.’
‘You think we should move her—maybe to one of the isolation rooms?’
Joel drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. ‘It’s a thought … but, no, I think the transfer might be interpreted the wrong way. The father’s already agreed Tommy might benefit from having his mother nearby.’
‘Even though she tried to kill him?’
His eyes came back to hers. ‘We don’t know that. It could have been an accident.’
‘You mean, straight driving under the influence?’ she said. ‘Driving with point one alcohol in the blood is hardly responsible behaviour for anyone, let alone a mother with a small child in the car.’
‘Look, I know I brought up the suspicions in the first place, but it’s probably wise not to make any judgements until we have more facts.’
‘But Mr Lowe said she had a history of depression and he immediately assumed she’d been drinking, as if it was a regular occurrence.’
‘Lots of people suffer periods of depression without trying to take their own or other’s lives,’ he pointed out.
‘So why did you order a drug test? You must be more than a little suspicious.’
He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I just thought it best to make sure either way.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘The results should be in now.’
‘What do you think they’ll show?’
‘One would assume she’s been taking her antidepressant, so that will show up—but at what level? And any other drugs—sedatives, tranquillisers. Maybe she took a cocktail of things.’ He reached for the telephone and dialled the pathology department.
Allegra sipped her coffee and listened as he discussed the results with the lab.
‘That high, huh? Both of them?’ He raised his brows at Allegra. ‘Yeah, I guess so. Right, thanks for speeding it through. The police will want a copy. I’ll get them to contact you themselves—they may have their own questions.’
He put the phone down and sent Allegra a grave look. ‘Mrs Lowe was on a cocktail of three drugs. Paroxetine at five times the maximum therapeutic level, diazepam at a high level and traces of codeine.’
‘So she was really serious about doing it properly,’ she said, starting to chew at her bottom lip.
‘Looks more like it now.’
Allegra’s frown increased. ‘That’s three drugs. You said “both of them”. What exactly did you mean by that?’
‘I wasn’t referring to the number of drugs. I had the lab examine the boy’s blood as well. It now seems that he had detectable diazepam as well, but not as high as hers.’
‘What! She sedated the boy first?’ she gasped in shock.
‘That’s what it looks like. Hard to believe someone would do such a thing, but it’s not the first time a parent has taken things to such extremes.’
‘It’s just so awful to think that if that car hadn’t been behind them they would have died for sure …’ she said, staring down at her hands.
‘Maybe it was meant to happen this way.’
She looked up at that. ‘What? Don’t tell me the incredibly scientific Dr Joel Addison actually believes in something as metaphysical as destiny?’
He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a lengthy moment before asking, ‘What have you got planned for the rest of the evening?’
She gave him a startled look. ‘Planned?’
‘After you finish work,’ he said. ‘What have you got planned?’
‘Um … well, nothing really. I should do some washing, I guess. My machine broke down and my shifts have made it impossible for me to be there for the technician, but I can tell you the thought of sitting in a hot laundromat isn’t too appealing.’
His smile relaxed his features again. ‘So if I offered to take you out to dinner I might be in for a chance at you accepting, given the competition being so poor?’
Allegra felt her stomach do a funny little flip-flop. ‘You’re asking me to dinner?’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘I am.’
‘Don’t you get dinner invitations very often?’
She gave him a rueful look. ‘Only from recently separated men who do nothing but whinge about their soon-to-be-ex-wives the whole time.’
‘Well, I can assure I’m not married or separated or involved with anyone at present, much to my mother’s ongoing disappointment.’
‘You could always try internet dating,’ she suggested with a tiny wry smile.
‘I thought I might try this way first,’ he said, and pushing out his chair got to his feet. ‘That’s if the laundromat isn’t a better offer.’
Allegra stood up as well, wondering why her legs felt so wobbly and strange all of a sudden. ‘It’s close … but I suppose as long as you don’t offer me pizza and cheap red wine, you’re a marginally better prospect than the laundromat.’
‘Marginally, eh?’ He smiled as he held the door open for her. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight or is that too early?’
‘No, but I haven’t even given you my address.’
‘Good point.’ He reached for a pen and paper and she rattled off her street and apartment block number and watched as he wrote it down in a strong forceful script which she knew her mother would have a field day interpreting.
‘See you tonight, then,’ he said, pocketing the note.
‘Yes … Thanks for the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She felt the pull of his gaze for several long seconds before she dragged hers away to walk through the door and down the corridor on legs that still felt as if someone had taken out the bones, just leaving the marrow …
Allegra checked on Tommy Lowe before she left for the evening. The neurosurgeons were planning insertion of intracranial pressure monitors on both him and his mother that night in the ICTU theatre. Susie, the ICU nurse looking