if the departments in outlying hospitals have been closed down, will it?’ Louise murmured. She could feel herself getting prickly already.
‘We’re not talking about taking away necessary resources,’ the man answered. ‘We’re just redistributing them in order to provide a better service.’
Her mouth twisted. ‘You mean you’re tidying up as part of a cost-cutting exercise.’
Beside her, James Ashleigh stirred. ‘Not at all,’ he intervened. ‘It’s more a question of making the best of what we have. Now that we have to comply with directives about junior doctors’ working hours, it’s becoming even more difficult to maintain full coverage of departments. It makes sense to concentrate them in one centre of excellence.’
Louise gave him a narrow-eyed stare. ‘I would have thought the community deserved excellence from all quarters.’ Warming to her theme, she added, ‘And what will happen to patients who come from outlying regions and don’t have a chance to make it to this magnificent centre you’re proposing? It’s a well-known fact, backed up by research, that people with serious breathing difficulties are less likely to survive a journey to hospital if it’s more than six and a half miles away. It’s quite likely that patients will die if this plan goes ahead.’
James frowned. ‘Do you think you might be in danger of overlooking the part our ambulance personnel have to play in all this? After all, every day they make life-saving interventions while they transport sick people to hospital.’
‘Some do, I’ll grant you,’ she answered in a clipped tone. ‘But what happens if you’re unfortunate enough to be transported by a technician who isn’t allowed to carry out invasive clinical procedures or administer the necessary drugs? There’s a high percentage of ambulance personnel who aren’t trained to the same extent as paramedics.’
‘That’s an issue that’s being addressed.’ His tone softened as though he would appease her in some way. ‘You have to take on board the fact that advances in technology are being made all the time, and we need to centralise resources in order to keep pace with what’s happening.’
Sparks flared in her green eyes. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m out of touch? I can assure you, Dr Ashleigh, that I work with state-of-the-art equipment every day. I suppose you think the community would be better served if it were to be reallocated, in its entirety, to the Royal Forest Hospital along with my patients?’
He made a negligent movement of his hands. ‘I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t like you to feel that this is in any way personal, Dr Bridgford. I’m merely pointing out that we all have to accept that things can’t always stay the same, no matter how much we might want them to.’
Louise drew breath, ready to come back at him, but Mr Jeffries cleared his throat and stalled her.
‘Of course your opinions will be taken into account, Louise. This is merely a preliminary meeting to discuss the various alternatives. We all know how concerned you are about the effect these changes might have on your department. That’s why we need to be particularly careful in how we decide on what options are to be presented to the committee.’
Louise subsided, but inside anger was simmering. She might have known that James Ashleigh would be in favour of destroying what she had built up over these last few years. What did he know about the way she worked? Her patients meant everything to her. They were a huge part of her life, almost like family to her, and she protected the paediatric A&E unit she had shaped as if it sheltered her own little brood. He was all theory and management-speak.
The meeting progressed, and she contented herself with directing a frosty glare in James Ashleigh’s direction. He might think that this wasn’t personal but, when all was said and done, it wasn’t his carefully nurtured project that was being demolished, was it? After that, she made a concentrated effort to push him out of her mind altogether.
Her good intentions only lasted up until they adjourned for a coffee break in an adjoining room. She would have liked to distance herself from him, but he thwarted her by coming to stand next to her in the queue by the coffee machine and engaging her in conversation.
‘Can I get you something to eat along with your coffee?’ he volunteered. ‘I seem to be a little closer to the refreshments than you are. I can offer you biscuits, or there are even sandwiches and pasties, if you’d prefer.’
She shook her head. ‘Coffee will be just fine for me, thank you.’
‘Do you take it black, or with cream and sugar?’
‘Cream and sugar, please.’ She accepted the cup he offered her and moved away from the side of the room, looking around for a table where she could sit and mull over what had been said at the meeting. The consensus of opinion among the region’s chiefs was still that the paediatric A&E could be wound down, and the objections of the various doctors present had been nudged to one side.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’
She looked up to see that James Ashleigh’s hand was resting lightly on the chair next to hers. She inclined her head. ‘Feel free.’
He sat down, stretching out his long legs underneath the table. The movement was distracting, to say the least. She would have preferred to ignore the fact that he was close by, but he was altogether too masculine a figure and her intentions were doomed from the outset. Her heart began to thump in a chaotic rhythm and her mouth went dry. He was long and lean and totally disturbing to her peace of mind.
As before, at the park, he was dressed in an immaculate, beautifully tailored dark suit, with a crisp mid-blue shirt that looked as though it had come fresh from an exclusive store. His tie was perfectly coordinated, subtle and carefully knotted, as though he was a man who paid a great deal of attention to detail.
She made an attempt to recover herself. ‘Has your grandfather been ill for a long time?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Unfortunately, yes. His consultant is doing what he can to ease things for him, by giving him tablets to regulate the heart rhythm, and diuretics to ease his lungs. The trouble is, my grandfather finds it hard to accept his limitations. I dare say that’s why he went walkabout last week.’
A small line indented her brow. ‘I don’t quite follow. He said that you left him to go and make your phone calls. I was under the impression that you didn’t go back for him.’
James’s mouth made a wry shape. ‘I wondered if that was the notion you were left with. No wonder you were a little distant with me.’ He stirred his coffee, the action concise and methodical. ‘The fact is, I was on call that day, and my Senior House Officer phoned for advice. I stepped outside for a few moments to deal with the situation but, when I returned, my grandfather had disappeared. He does that sometimes. I think he gets a kind of wanderlust and forgets that he isn’t able to do what he used to.’
For a moment she was taken aback by this new piece of information, and she wondered distractedly whether she ought perhaps to reassess her opinion of him. He had everything going for him, after all—charisma in bucket-loads and a charm that could melt stone. Maybe she could allow herself to relax a little and get to know him better.
But then she recalled the way he had talked the committee around to his way of thinking just a few minutes earlier and she hardened her heart all over again. Perhaps he had been called away unexpectedly that day but, as a doctor, he should have paid more attention to his grandfather’s needs.
‘Perhaps you should take him out and about more often. That way he won’t feel as though he’s housebound and become desperate to escape. I rather had the impression that he feels he’s missing out on life sometimes, but I suppose, if you’ve been away, you won’t have realised that.’
She took a sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim of her cup.
He gave her a faint smile. ‘I can see that I’m not going to redeem myself in your eyes, whatever I say. I suppose it doesn’t help much that we’re at opposite sides of the fence when it comes to this business of the hospital.’