Marrying the Runaway Bride

‘Thanks for the warning.’

Heather Thompson smiled as she looked around the room. As hospital staffrooms went, this one wasn’t too bad. At least the chairs looked as though the springs weren’t all broken and there was actually a rug on the regulation blue composite floor. Compared to some of the hospitals where she’d worked in the last few months, this was quite luxurious, in fact.

‘It’s not too bad, is it?’ The sister must have noticed her taking stock. ‘It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s not the absolute pits either. We have our consultant to thank for that too. He insisted on them refurbishing the place when he took over last year, said it wasn’t right that staff had to put up with such appalling conditions when they were expected to work twenty-four seven.’

‘Really? I am impressed.’ Heather hung her coat in an empty locker. ‘Most consultants couldn’t care less about the staff, in my experience.’

‘Oh, he’s a real treasure, believe me.’ The other woman sighed. ‘It’s just a shame that he’s leaving—’

She broke off when an alarm sounded. Heather recognised the sound immediately and was already on her way to the door before the ward sister could tell her to follow her. Staff were appearing from all over the place, responding to the call. There were half a dozen people gathered by the time they entered the ward, and each and every one seemed to know what was expected of them.

Heather followed the convoy to the child’s bed, her heart aching when she saw how young he was. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old and he was desperately ill. One of the nurses had already started CPR, another had fetched the crash trolley, while a third was frantically working the controls on the bed to lower it into a horizontal position. It was obvious they had the situation covered so she turned to the boy’s parents.

‘Let’s leave the team to do their job,’ she said, urging the couple towards the door.

‘But I want to stay!’ the mother shrieked. ‘Charlie needs me—I can’t leave him!’

Heather grasped hold of the woman’s arm when she tried to force her way back through the group to get to her son. The last thing the staff needed at the moment was a hysterical parent hampering their efforts to resuscitate the child.

‘Charlie needs their help more than anything else,’ she said firmly, trying to lead her away.

‘Let me go!’

Heather gasped when the woman swung round and struck her across the face. She staggered back, but quickly recovered. Taking a firmer grip on the woman’s arm, she ushered her out of the ward, thanking her stars that the boy’s father followed them without a murmur. She wouldn’t have rated her chances if he’d clobbered her as well!

There was a family room next to the office and she took the parents in there. She managed to persuade them to sit down then got them both a cup of tea from the machine in the corner and sat down opposite them.

‘I know how worried you are but the staff are doing everything they can to help Charlie.’ She pressed a cup of tea into the woman’s hand. ‘Try a sip of this. It will help.’

The woman obediently drank a little of the tea. All the fight seemed to have drained out of her now as she sat huddled on the edge of the sofa. ‘I thought he was getting better. The doctor said he was, didn’t he, Darren?’

‘Yes.’ The father ran a trembling hand over his face. Heather’s heart went out to him when she saw that he was crying.

‘I only started working here tonight so I don’t know what’s wrong with your son,’ she explained quietly. ‘But I do know that everything possible is being done to help him.’

‘One of the nurses said that he’d had a heart attack,’ the father told her. He shook his head. ‘I know he’s been having pains in his chest but I didn’t think kids could have heart attacks. I mean, it’s something old people have, not eight-year-olds like our Charlie.’

‘It’s unusual, but it does happen,’ Heather said gently. ‘The main thing is that Charlie was already in hospital when it happened. That will certainly go in his favour.’

‘So you think he’ll be all right, do you?’ the mother said desperately.

‘Let’s hope so.’

Heather was too experienced to make promises she might not be able to keep. It was impossible to foretell what the outcome would be and all she could do was reassure the parents while they waited for news. It was almost half an hour before the door opened and she stood up when the parents leapt to their feet. Just for a moment she stared at the man who had entered the room, wondering where she had seen him, before all of a sudden it came rushing back and she gasped.

It was the man she had spoken to the day before her wedding! What on earth was he doing here?

CHAPTER TWO

ARCHIE could feel the shock waves reverberating around his body when he saw the woman. He’d thought about her many times since that day they had met. Far too often, in fact, her face had sprung to mind and he had found himself wondering what had happened to her. If he’d known her name, he might have tried to find out, but the lack of information had ruled out that possibility. To suddenly see her right here, in the hospital, stunned him and he had to force himself to focus as he turned to Charlie’s parents.

‘Why don’t we sit down?’ he suggested, ushering the couple back into the room. He waited until they had sat down before he turned to the young woman. ‘Thank you, Nurse. I’ll handle things from here on.’

‘Of course, sir.’

She smiled politely as she hurried to the door, but Archie could see the colour in her cheeks and knew that she was as shocked as he was by the unexpected encounter. He could only assume that she was one of the agency nurses, although it seemed strange that fate had brought her here.

‘First of all let me assure you that Charlie is fine,’ he said, quickly dismissing that thought. He didn’t believe in fate. As he knew from experience, a person’s life was dictated by the choices he or she made, not by some unforeseen force of nature. ‘He suffered a myocardial infarction—a heart attack—but he’s stable now and his vital signs are as good as we can hope for at the present time.’

‘Thank heavens!’

Charlie’s mother started crying when she heard that. Archie passed her the box of tissues off the table and waited while she collected herself. He wanted to be sure both parents understood that their son wasn’t in the clear yet.

‘We’ve completed all the tests now and I’m ninety-nine per cent certain that Charlie is suffering from myocarditis, which is a fancy term for inflammation of the heart muscle. You mentioned that he’d had an upper respiratory tract infection before Christmas and I think it can be linked directly to that.’

‘You mean that cough he had has caused him to have a heart attack,’ the father demanded.

‘Basically, that’s correct, Mr Maguire,’ Archie confirmed. ‘The most common cause of myocarditis is a viral infection usually caused by one of the Coxsackie viruses. I think that’s what has happened in this instance.’

‘But I had loads of coughs and colds when I was a kid,’ Darren Maguire protested. ‘And I never had a bad heart.’

‘No, but sadly Charlie hasn’t been as lucky as you were,’ Archie explained patiently, knowing it was a lot for the parents to take in. ‘Fortunately, your GP suspected there was a problem when he learned that Charlie had been getting those pains in his chest. It’s thanks to him for referring Charlie to us so promptly that we’ve been able to get to the root of the matter. The tests we’ve run have shown there is a disturbance in your son’s heartbeat and that his heart isn’t working as efficiently as it should be doing either. That’s why Charlie was complaining of feeling breathless all the time.’

‘So what happens now?’ Darren Maguire asked. ‘Can you give Charlie some drugs to make him better?’

‘Unfortunately, there’s no specific treatment for myocarditis. Charlie will need bed rest while he recovers and I’ve also prescribed corticosteroid drugs to reduce the inflammation.’ He leant forward, wanting to impress on the parents how serious the situation was. ‘The main thing is that Charlie must remain in hospital while we monitor what’s happening to him. With rest and the proper care, I’m hopeful that he will make a full recovery, but it will take time. There’s no quick fix to this problem, I’m afraid.’

‘It doesn’t matter how long it takes,’ Cheryl Maguire said, wiping her eyes. ‘As long as he gets better, that’s all that matters, Mr Carew.’

‘Indeed it is.’ Archie stood up and smiled at them. ‘Charlie’s having another ECG at the moment. I’ll send one of the nurses to fetch you when it’s finished.’

‘Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very kind.’ Cheryl bit her lip. ‘I feel awful about what happened before. I never meant to hit that poor nurse. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘You hit one of the staff?’ Archie exclaimed.

‘Yes. It was the nurse who brought us in here and gave us a cup of tea. She was so kind to us, too…’

Archie sighed as Cheryl trailed off. ‘I’m not sure exactly what happened but any display of physical violence towards a member of the hospital’s staff will be taken very seriously. I suggest you apologise to the nurse concerned as soon as you get the chance.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Cheryl said hurriedly.

Archie left the room and went back to the ward. It was almost seven p.m. but there was little chance of him leaving just yet. Fortunately, everything seemed to have calmed down now the crisis was over. Most of the children were watching television or playing with the games’ stations he’d had installed for their use. It was open visiting during the day and there were still some parents around. Although he encouraged families to play an active part in their children’s recovery, he emphasised that they needed their rest so visiting ended at seven-thirty each evening. Of course, if a child was seriously ill then special arrangements were made.

He checked on Charlie and was pleased with the results of the latest ECG. He asked one of the nurses to fetch the boy’s parents in then went to the office. Marion Yates, the ward sister, was writing up the boy’s notes; she looked up and smiled at him.

‘That was a bit hairy.’

‘I didn’t think we were going to get him back at one point,’ Archie said bluntly, slumping down in a chair. He tipped back his head and groaned. ‘It’s hard to tell which bit of me is aching the most. Why do emergencies always come along in threes?’