She stopped, and grinned. ‘Well, you can buy a ticket and hear for yourself.’
‘Jude sings?’ he queried.
‘Yes. And we get a third of the profits.’
So who got the other two-thirds? The question must have been written all over his face because Margot added hastily, ‘Paeds gets a third and ED gets a third, too. It’s a joint fundraiser with them. Jude does it every month.’
‘Right.’
‘Even if you don’t come, you can still buy a ticket. It’s for a good cause.’
How could he resist the idea of seeing Judith Powell outside the hospital? ‘Sure. When is it?’
‘Next Wednesday, at the hospital social club. There’s food as well. Zoe Hutton in Paeds makes the best cheese straws in London, and her brownies are to die for.’
Social club. Maybe, just maybe…A lightbulb flicked on in the back of his head. ‘Is it limited to just staff?’
‘No, you can bring a friend. Or a partner.’ Margot gave him a curious look.
Kieran didn’t particularly want to explain about Tess—if he did persuade her to come, the last thing she needed was to think that people were gossiping about her. But maybe a night out would do his baby sister good. Teach her that although she’d loved Aidan desperately and he’d let her down in the worst way, there was still a world outside. A world with people who’d be kinder than her ex. His next-door neighbour, Rosemary, would look after Charlie for them—she’d been keeping half an eye on Tess for him while he was at work.
Though if it meant glamming up, Tess would probably run a mile. He’d have enough of a job persuading her to put on some lipstick. Since Aidan had dumped her, Tess hadn’t seen the point in a lot of things. ‘How dressy is it?’
‘Comfortable. Smart casual,’ Margot said.
He might be able to persuade her, then. ‘Put me down for two tickets,’ he said with a smile.
‘So you’re bringing your partner?’ Margot asked.
He chuckled. ‘Honestly. Midwives must be the nosiest bunch going!’
‘Well, if you will be secretive,’ she teased back.
His smile faded. He wasn’t secretive. Just protecting his little sister. ‘Yeah, well,’ he said, and paid up.
Later that morning, Judith rapped on the door of Kieran’s office. ‘Got a minute?’
‘Sure.’ More than a minute, where she was concerned.
But this was a professional question. It deserved a professional answer. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’ve just had a mum admitted—Pippa Harrowven. She’s thirty-five weeks. She rang her midwife because she wasn’t feeling well, and the midwife sent her straight here. I’ve examined her and I’m not happy. Her temperature’s up, her heart rate’s up and so is the baby’s. She’s feeling sick but not actually vomiting, she says it hurts to pee and when I examined her there was some muscle guarding—I think it’s more than just cystitis.’
‘Has anyone done an MSU?’
A mid-stream urine sample could tell them if Pippa had an infection and what had caused it. ‘Yes—I’ve sent it to the lab for culture and sensitivity tests. Her urine’s cloudy, but when Daisy tested it, it wasn’t acid, so it’s not E. coli.’
‘Are you thinking acute pyelonephritis?’ Kieran asked.
She nodded. ‘I was. Except it’s not E. coli, so that rules it out.’
‘Not necessarily. I know E. coli accounts for eight-five per cent of cases, but it could be three or four other organisms, including Klebsiella and Proteus,’ he reminded her. ‘Any other symptoms?’
‘She’s complaining of pain and tenderness around the loins, and it seems to be following the path of the ureters. She said it started last night and it’s just got a lot worse.’
Kieran nodded. ‘It sounds very like acute pyelonephritis.’
‘I’ve asked Daisy to do her obs, and keep an eye on her temperature and pulse. But if it is pyelonephritis, we’re talking possible problems with growth and preterm labour, aren’t we?’
‘Yes.’ Kieran couldn’t figure it out. Judith had reached a diagnosis, and from what she’d told him it sounded like the correct one. So why was she still so unsure? She was the daughter of an obstetric professor. She must have grown up hearing obstetric terms bandied about the house—so surely she should be too confident, if anything.
Unless she’d once been overconfident and had made the kind of mistake that made you question every action for a very, very long time afterwards. And Bella had said that Judith didn’t want to work with her father. Kieran had worked with Ben for years and found him very fair. There was definitely more here than met the eye, and it intrigued him. ‘Want me to come and have a look?’
Her brow smoothed with relief. ‘Please.’
‘Sure.’ He followed her into the ward and Judith introduced him to Pippa.
‘I’m just going to examine you, Pippa, if that’s all right?’ He paused for the young mother-to-be’s agreement. ‘OK. Tell me if it hurts.’ Gently, he palpated her abdomen. As he moved along the path of the ureters, Pippa flinched.
‘It hurts. And I need to pee again. Except I probably won’t be able to—I couldn’t last time, and I haven’t had anything to drink since then. And…’ She turned her head and a stream of vomit splashed over Kieran’s shoes and trousers.
‘Oh, no, I’m so sorry,’ she said miserably.
‘You’re not feeling well. There’s no need to be sorry.’ He nodded to Daisy to fetch a cloth and water, then mopped Pippa’s face. ‘I’ve had worse over me.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing.’ He smiled at her. ‘We’ll have you feeling better soon, though I’m afraid you’ll be on bed rest for a while. As soon as the lab results come back, we’ll know which antibiotics to give you.’
‘But aren’t antibiotics dangerous for the baby?’
‘We’re going to keep a very close eye on you both,’ Kieran promised. ‘Jude thinks you’ve got something called pyelonephritis, and I think she’s right. It’s an infection of the kidney and the tubes that carry urine away from the kidneys, so we’ll need to give you antibiotics to stop it. I can also give you something to bring your temperature down, and we’ll put you on a drip to make sure you don’t get dehydrated.’
‘We can give you a heat pad for your back, to help with the pain,’ Judith added. ‘And Daisy’s going to keep an eye on your temperature and your pulse rate.’
‘You said bed rest. How long will I be in?’
‘A week or so,’ Kieran said.
‘But I can’t be! I—I’ve got a pile of work to do. I’m a freelance artist. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid and I’ll probably lose my client, and…’ Pippa’s lower lip trembled.
‘Is there someone we can call for you?’ Kieran asked. ‘And maybe your partner can explain to your client.’
Pippa shook her head. ‘He left me when we found out I was pregnant. He doesn’t want a baby to complicate things. But I couldn’t bring myself to have a termination. And…’ She shook her head, choked by tears.
‘How about your mum?’ Judith asked gently. ‘Or a good friend?’
‘My mum’s in Lincolnshire. I can’t drag her all the way up to London.’ Pippa wiped her hand across her eyes. ‘There’s my best friend. Except she’s busy