200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet

Lexi followed her quickly to the nearby kitchen. This would be an ideal time to see how much she could find out about Iain from his colleagues. She hadn’t really met many of the staff from Kate’s before.

She gave a grateful smile as the nurse poured out some coffee and handed her a cup. ‘Take some biscuits. They’re on the table. It’s a free for all in here.’

Lexi smiled. ‘Thanks for that. Have you worked with Iain long?’

The nurse lifted her eyebrows. ‘Happy Harry?’

Lexi nearly choked. ‘Is that what you call him?’

The nurse laughed. ‘Actually, he’s not the worst. Leo Hunter used to be much more grumpy but since he’s met Lizzie he’s all smiles. His brother Ethan seems to have taken on the mantle of biggest bear.’ She walked over to the table and sat down next to Lexi. ‘But to be fair to him he’s still not recovered and he works far too long hours—they all do—but Ethan’s trouble is he’s far too stubborn to use his stick.’

Lexi frowned. ‘I’ve never seen Ethan walking with a stick.’

‘Exactly. I’ve worked in orthopaedic theatres for too many years not to know when someone should be using a stick.’

Lexi pressed her lips together. It was time for a subject change, but the nurse was already back on her feet and washing her cup. No one got to hang around for long here. ‘Let’s go, Lexi.’ She gave her a quick wink. ‘Let’s not keep our Scots laird waiting.’

Lexi followed her pale green scrubs out the door. Iain was near the end of scrubbing and his premiership footballer was being wheeled in the door. She almost couldn’t believe the range of operations that Iain was involved in.

The surgery on the footballer player took several hours and her legs were already beginning to ache by the time a very nervous-looking Carol Kennedy was wheeled in. It was obvious she recognised Lexi immediately, and if she was surprised to see her she didn’t show it. Instead, she gestured to her to come over.

Lexi’s stomach was churning. She’d met Carol at numerous charity events over the years and had always found her to be as charming in person as she was on television. She reached over and gave Carol’s hand a little squeeze. ‘I’m so sorry to see you here, Carol.’

Carol nodded nervously, tears pooling in her eyes. ‘Iain spoke to me beforehand about the filming. It’s fine with me. I’ll have some time to explain to the children when I go home.’

‘Are you sure, Carol? The last thing I want to do is invade your privacy. If this is something you want kept out of the media, I completely understand. You know that my lips are sealed and I’ll never breathe a word.’

Carol nodded gratefully. ‘I appreciate that, Lexi. I’ve been fighting this cancer in private for quite some time. But after the surgery today I’ll have some scars. Iain will do whatever he can, but I will have some scars around my neck that I don’t want to have to spend my life telling lies about.’ She shook her head. ‘In a few days’ time I’ll be home and will have told my children. If filming the surgery helps other people and helps raise the profile of the clinic for the charities, it’s fine with me.’

Carol gave a little nod as the anaesthetist signalled to her to lie back against the pillow. Lexi gave a final squeeze of her hand as the anaesthetist started slowing injecting the milky substance into her vein. A few seconds later Carol’s body relaxed and her breathing was assisted. Lexi watched as Carol’s head was tilted backwards but instead of sliding a tube down Carol’s throat, as she’d expected, the anaesthetist slid a tube down her nose.

Iain saw the expression on her face. ‘When we’re doing surgery on the head and neck we often use nasotracheal intubation. It means we can maintain the patient’s airway but still have access to do surgery in and around the face, mouth and neck.’

Lexi nodded. It made sense. If Iain needed access to the inside of Carol’s mouth, it would be virtually impossible if a tube was down her throat.

‘So what are you going to do for Carol?’

There was something so strange about seeing someone she knew lying on the operating table. Even though she’d recognised the footballer from earlier, she’d never met him before in person.

Iain and his team were positioning themselves around the table, a wide variety of surgical instruments around them. Even though Iain’s mask was in place and all she could see were his brown eyes, his thick Scottish accent carried clearly across the theatre. ‘All head and neck cancers are different. The extent of the surgery depends on the size of the cancer and where it is. If it’s a small cancer of the mouth, there is often no scarring. But if the cancer has spread from the head or neck, the most likely place for it to go to is the lymph nodes in the neck—that’s what has happened in Carol’s case.’

It sounded so ominous when he said it like that. She couldn’t bring herself to ask the obvious question. If this cancer was curable.

Iain was pointing inside Carol’s mouth. ‘I’m going to do to two types of surgery on Carol today. Transoral laser surgery is used to treat smaller cancers on the lip, mouth or throat. The laser removes the tumour using a high-power beam of light. The light is attached to a microscope so that I can see the tissue in detail when I’m operating. Carol’s tumour is near the back of her throat near her larynx. We need to be very careful and precise. Anything we do could affect her speech. Once we’ve dealt with that tumour we need to deal with the spread.

‘Neck dissection is necessary to remove all the affected lymph nodes in both sides of the neck. Tests have shown the cancer has spread to both sides. The nerve that helps move the lower lip can sometimes be affected. This can cause weakness on one side of the mouth and could potentially make her smile crooked. It would usually return to normal after a few months but I want to avoid that for Carol if I can.’

Lexi nodded. He was thinking about his patient and the impact this surgery could have on her livelihood. If Carol had problems with her speech, it would affect her ability to do her job. Things would be hard enough with her scarring. She didn’t need any further complications.

She watched as the team draped Carol’s skin and cleaned it prior to any incision. Iain attached the light and microscope to his visor and positioned himself at the entrance to her mouth. He gave his registrar, who was assisting, a nod and then looked around the theatre. ‘People, I don’t need to tell you how important my concentration is right now. No noise. No interruptions.’

For the next twenty minutes Lexi was scared to breathe. The theatre was eerily quiet. Occasionally Iain spoke quietly to his registrar and they adjusted their positions. She could see the intense focus of the laser. It was almost unthinkable that the slightest movement could mean the laser hitting healthy tissue instead of the tumour.

How could the theatre staff remain so calm? How could Iain keep his nerves in check? She felt sick just thinking about it, and from the look of her cameraman, he felt exactly the same.

Eventually Iain lifted his head, gave a nod and removed his head and eye set. He leaned back as far as he could, his back giving a painful crick.

Even beneath his mask she could see the corners of his eyes lift as he smiled. ‘That’s it, folks. You can talk again. We’ll move on to the next part of the surgery.’ The sigh of relief around the room was audible. Tense shoulders sagged and bad jokes started to circulate around the room again.

But Iain was in no way finished. He was joined at one point by Carol’s cancer specialist and the two of them reviewed the earlier CT scan to ensure Iain would capture all the lymph nodes affected. The surgery was painstaking. Iain was more exacting, more precise than she could have ever have imagined. The surgery that had been expected to take four hours actually took six, all because Iain was determined not only to remove every possible trace of cancer but also to give Carol the best cosmetic outcome possible.

When he finally finished he inserted a small plastic drain on either side of her neck. After the care and attention to detail Lexi was surprised. It seemed almost unsightly. Iain caught her expression and gave a little shake of his head. ‘We’ll need to keep these in place for the next twenty-four hours to help drain any excess fluid. It will give Carol a better result overall, even though it doesn’t look too pretty right now.’

He gave a final nod at the anaesthetist. ‘All yours, Tony. Let’s get some analgesia in and bring Carol round. I’ll be around for the next two hours if you have any concerns.’ He peeled off his gloves and mask. ‘Thank you, everyone, for your hard work and attention to detail today. Let’s do it all again on Thursday.’

It was almost as if his words gave her permission to sag against the wall. She’d found the day long, tiring, even though she’d been standing virtually in one spot. And this was just one day out of her life. Iain did this most days—sometimes every day—as well as seeing patients at the Hunter Clinic. No wonder he fell asleep in the office.

She watched as Iain moved back over to the theatre sinks to wash up. She could see the way the thin navy scrubs clung to every muscle, every sinew of his lithe body. He was chatting away to one of the scrub nurses as she cleaned the theatre around him. Not flirting. Just easy banter, the way they must act every day.

He was more relaxed in here than he was at the Hunter Clinic. And it didn’t take her long to realise why. This was home for Iain. This was his comfort zone.

Iain wasn’t renowned for his charm or easygoing manner. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was known for being gruff, sometimes downright blunt with colleagues and occasionally with patients. But his surgery spoke for itself. As did his patient recovery stories. No one could argue with those.

But if she wanted to increase publicity for the Hunter Clinic she was going to have to dig beneath the surface a little. Reveal a little of what she’d seen in Theatre today. The question was—how to do that? Iain was fiercely private and she was going to have to persuade him to lower his barriers just a touch to let their patients see the human side of the brilliant surgeon.

With the filming today she’d had a clear demonstration of his surgical skills and his commitment to the task. They’d even managed to capture some of his lighter moments with the theatre staff. All of this would be pure television gold, if only she could capture a little of the man as well.

She arched her back, just as he had done earlier. It didn’t make the same alarming cricking noise but it certainly stretched her aching muscles. She dragged her eyes away from Iain. From the shaggy hair that had been released from the theatre cap. The hair that she was imagining running her fingers through.

This would never do. She was a professional.

She was always a professional. She’d met numerous celebrities throughout her life and very few of them had impressed her. Very few of them had made her imagination run wild. Not like the way it was at the moment. It must just be fatigue. She was tired—that was all. She’d had a late night last night, after dropping Iain home, and then an early start again this morning. It couldn’t be anything else, could it?

She pushed open the door to the changing room and stripped off her pink scrubs and jumped into the shower. It only took a few minutes for the cool water to wake her up a little and she pulled on her red business suit and untied her hair, turning her head upside and down and giving it a good shake. After being confined up all day in a theatre cap, it felt good to finally have it loose again. Last she took her perfume from her bag and squirted liberally, finishing with her red lipstick.

There. Barely human again after how long? She checked her watch. Nearly twelve hours. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.

She was starving. And getting food—preferably of the unhealthy kind—was first on her list.

Iain was waiting at the changing-room doors, hoping he hadn’t missed her. Lexi Robbins had been on his radar all day. It was the first time anyone had been in his operating theatre who had actually threatened his focus.

Iain McKenzie was a surgeon who slid into ‘the zone’ whenever he operated. The patient was his absolute focus—and nothing else penetrated.

But today had been a little different. Even though his focus had still been on his patients, for the first time he’d been conscious of his peripheral vision. The set of pale pink scrubs and wide blue eyes that had occasionally caught his attention.

It had been like a constant, persistent itch. And in Iain’s mind the only way to deal with an itch was to scratch it. Maybe if he bent just a little and gave Lexi the interview she wanted she would move on to the next person on her hit list and he could return to a little sanity.

He smelt her first. Her scent permeating through the female changing-room doors. Seconds later the door opened and Lexi, a vision in red with her blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders, appeared.