The Surgeon's Family Wish Read online

  ‘The workings of your mind are a mystery to me!

  ‘You are a caring and competent surgeon who has a way with children and would make a wonderful mother.’

  To be told that Aaron thought she would make a good mother brought the tears back again, and as they streamed down her cheeks his expression changed from incomprehension to awareness.

  ‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ he exclaimed. ‘You want a child of your own. The ache inside you comes from that, and because you’ve been on your own for so long you can’t cope with making that sort of commitment.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it,’ she agreed, glad to be off the hook. If she had to lie, she had to lie, and at that moment the truth would have choked her in the telling.

  Aaron was smiling. He couldn’t help it. He’d solved the mystery. With patience and careful wooing it might all come right for them.

  Abigail Gordon loves to write about the fascinating combination of medicine and romance from her home in a Cheshire village. She is active in local affairs and is even called upon to write the script for the annual village pantomime! Her eldest son is a hospital manager, and helps with all her medical research. As part of a close-knit family, she treasures having two of her sons living close by and the third one not too far away. This also gives her the added pleasure of being able to watch her delightful grandchildren growing up.

  Recent titles by the same author:

  THE POLICE SURGEON’S RESCUE

  THE GP’S SECRET

  IN-FLIGHT EMERGENCY

  THE PREGNANT POLICE SURGEON

  THE SURGEON’S FAMILY WISH

  BY

  ABIGAIL GORDON

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  CHAPTER ONE

  AARON LEWIS was smiling as it was announced that the aircraft was preparing for landing. The last two weeks spent touring foreign hospitals and noting different techniques had been absorbing, but here was where his heart was. In the English city where he worked in a large children’s hospital and lived in a rambling, red-brick house with what was left of his family.

  His smile deepened as he envisaged them waiting for him at the airport. His mother, her round pink face alight with pleasure at the sight of him, with Lucy beside her, dancing with excitement because he was back. They were his world and every time he saw a sick child he gave thanks for his daughter’s good health.

  Ever since the day when his wife had gone into the sea in a Cornish cove to go to the assistance of his father, who’d been caught in a fast and dangerous current, there’d been just the three of them—his mother, his daughter and himself.

  He’d gone back to the hotel that day with Lucy, then a toddler, for something they’d forgotten, and by the time he’d got back to the beach his wife and father had both been swept out to sea.

  There’d been a huge search, with the lifeboat and air-sea rescue services involved, but to no avail, and when their bodies had been washed up with the tide a couple of days later, both he and his mother had been faced with the knowledge that half of a close, loving family was gone.

  Eloise had drowned trying to save her adored father-in-law and as Aaron had stood gazing bleakly out to sea on the golden sand where they’d been picnicking on that terrible day, his mother had said, ‘Life has to go on, Aaron, for Lucy’s sake if nothing else.’

  That had been four years ago and they’d coped. As long as he didn’t look back too much, life had been reasonably good. His mother had taken Eloise’s place in Lucy’s young life, while he’d done his best to take care of them both. In a very short time the threesome would be reunited.

  As he waited for his luggage to come round on the carousel Aaron was imagining his daughter’s face when she saw what he’d brought her back from the trip. He’d spoken to her every night while he’d been away but it hadn’t been the same as holding Lucy in his arms.

  Yet there was only his mother waiting to greet him when he’d gone through the formalities. No Lucy, and her grandmother’s face was pinched and grey. He could smell trouble a mile off. It went with the job, and he’d only seen his mother look like this once before.

  As Mary Lewis watched her son approach she knew she was about to blight his homecoming. He was a commanding figure, striding towards her amongst the other travellers. Tall, straight, with dark hair curling above his ears, his eyes were like soft brown velvet when they rested upon his family and his small patients. They could also be as hard as flint if he came across a situation that did not please him....

  She saw his brisk stride falter and swallowed hard.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked the moment he reached her side. ‘Where’s Lucy?’

  Her smooth cheeks were crumpling, but her voice was steady as she told him, ‘She’s in Barnaby’s, Aaron. Lucy fell off the climbing frame in the garden yesterday and instead of landing on the grass cracked her head on the lawnmower that I’d left nearby while I went to answer the phone. She must have fallen awkwardly. By the time I got to her she was unconscious. I sent for an ambulance. They took us to the General and from there they transferred Lucy to Barnaby’s.’

  ‘Why?’ he questioned tightly as his worst nightmare took on form and shape. ‘Why did they transfer her? And why didn’t you let me know?’

  He’d taken hold of his mother’s arm and was ushering her towards the exit, not wanting to waste a moment in getting to his daughter’s side.

  ‘They X-rayed her head in A and E and did a CT scan which revealed an open fracture of the skull requiring surgery. The new paediatric surgeon at Barnaby’s took over from there. As to why I didn’t let you know, I rang your hotel but you’d just left for the airport, and I decided that you would be better making the long flight without having a terrible anxiety gnawing at you.’

  ‘How is Lucy now?’ he asked in the same tight tone. ‘Any brain damage?’

  ‘You need to talk to the doctor who operated. I was so agitated I could hardly take in what she was saying. The main thing at the moment is that Lucy has come through it and was sleeping peacefully when I left her. I’ve been with her all the time, needless to say, but I had to come to meet you. I couldn’t let you walk into something so worrying without warning.’

  She was almost running to keep up with him and, contrite, he slowed down. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he gave her a quick hug.

  ‘You are the best. You do know that, don’t you?’

  Her smile was wry. ‘I didn’t feel like that yesterday when I saw our little one lying so still.’

  ‘No, I can imagine,’ he said gently, adding, with the urgency in him unabated, ‘Where have you parked the car?’

  ‘Across the way there,’ she told him, passing him the keys. ‘You’d better drive, Aaron. We’ll get there more quickly and I’m beginning to wilt now that I’ve passed the burden on to you.’

  ‘I’m sorry that you’ve had to cope with this on your own, Mum,’ he told her regretfully. ‘It must have been horrendous, but we’ll be with Lucy soon and then I’ll be able to find out for myself what the damage is.’

  He groaned.

  ‘I can’t believe that the moment I turn my back the fates start playing tricks. My daughter in my hospital. And you said it’s someone new who operated on Lucy. Where was Charles, for heaven’s sake, and Mark Lafferty?’

  Charles Drury was the consultant, who was shortly to retire after a long career in paediatric surgery, and the other man was a skilled surgeon in his fifties. It was surprising
that neither of them had been available to operate on his precious child.

  ‘Charles is away on holiday,’ his mother informed him, ‘and Mark is incapacitated with a broken pelvis after a motor accident. It was a Dr Swain who operated on Lucy. It was her first day at Barnaby’s and she looked washed out, as if she should be in bed herself.’

  Aaron nodded grimly.

  ‘Yes, of course. I’d forgotten. She would be the new broom. We’ve had a lot of staff changes recently on the surgical side. Thankfully my lot don’t have such itchy feet.’

  He was hoping that this new woman was up to scratch. Not all the surgeons who operated on the children that he and his staff had in their care were of Charles Drury’s standard.

  The hospital gates were looming up. He would soon know how well the Swain woman did her job.

  He was almost galloping as they reached the main corridor of the hospital and his mother said, ‘Go on, I’ll catch you up. Lucy is in a small room off Rainbow Ward.’

  In the early October morning the ward was beginning to come to life. Nurses flitted amongst the beds, talking gently to those who were fretful and with a cheerful word for the rest.

  The sister saw him the moment he came whizzing in and she flashed him a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Not a good day for you, is it, Dr Lewis, but Lucy is making good progress,’ she said as he made towards the side ward. ‘She came through the operation satisfactorily and is still sleeping. Dr Swain is on her way to see her.’

  Aaron felt tears prick as he stood beside the still form of his daughter. She was so small to have to go through that kind of surgery, but there was a ward full of children out there and none of their problems were minor. Rainbow Ward was for the more serious cases and the Lollipop Ward for those less complicated, but often they overflowed into each other.

  Lucy’s fair curls had been shorn off and the part of her scalp where surgery had been performed was covered in dressings. She looked so little and vulnerable he could hardly bear it, but there were things he had to know. The extent of the damage to her skull. What amount of surgery had been necessary. And the best person to tell him that was Dr Swain.

  The sister had left him to go back to supervising in the main ward, and as Aaron was lifting the clipboard from the bottom rail of the bed to read Lucy’s notes the door opened.

  She was tall, slender, with nut-brown shoulder-length hair framing a tired, white face. But tired or not, her glance, when it met his, was cool and professional and her grip firm as she introduced herself.

  ‘I’m Annabel Swain,’ she said quietly, ‘and you must be Dr Lewis, Lucy’s father.’

  ‘Yes,’ he told her, and without going into any of the niceties added, ‘I need to know how badly hurt my daughter was and what surgery you’ve performed on her.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed. Sinking down onto a chair beside the bed, she looked up at him.

  There was weariness behind the cool hazel gaze meeting his, but it barely registered. Aaron was frantic to know the worst. Once he’d absorbed it he would cope. At least Lucy was alive and who knew better than he what terrible damage could be caused to children and adults in accidental happenings?

  ‘Lucy was transferred to Barnaby’s from A and E last night as I was about to finish my shift,’ she told him in a voice that he would have thought pleasing to the ear at any other time. ‘She was unconscious and had been diagnosed with an open skull fracture.

  ‘Fortunately, I have done some specialising in neurology and problems of the cranium and operated immediately to correct fragmentation of the bone and prevent her condition worsening.’

  ‘What about brain damage?’ he asked quickly. ‘Any penetration of the meninges and brain tissue?’

  She shook her head and the brown hair swung gently around her pale face.

  ‘None that I could see. I drained away surplus blood and repaired damaged vessels, along with realigning the fractured bone. I shall be keeping a close watch on Lucy for the next few days. She was unconscious before the operation but she’s sleeping naturally now.’ She was getting to her feet. ‘But as Head of Paediatrics I’m sure you won’t need me to tell you that.’

  ‘You can tell me anything you like as long as it’s beneficial to Lucy,’ he told her, and sent up a prayer of thankfulness that this woman had known what she was doing.

  ‘I’m living in hospital accommodation at the moment in a flat at the other side of the grounds,’ she was explaining. ‘I’m going there to get some sleep once I’ve made sure that your daughter is all right. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to ring me. I’ve already told Sister to call me the moment she wakes up, but it could be some time before Lucy surfaces from the trauma of the operation and the effects of the anaesthetic. When she does, that will be crunch time.’

  Aaron nodded.

  ‘I realise that, and if you need sleep by all means go and get it. A tired doctor is not a good one. It would seem that you came to us at a bad time, with two of our paediatric surgeons not available.’

  Her smile was wry.

  ‘Yes...and you weren’t around either.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t,’ he agreed sombrely. ‘I wish I had been.’

  ‘But Lucy’s grandma was there.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said levelly. ‘My mother is always there when we need her. Our three generations jog along together very well.’

  * * *

  As Annabel Swain threw herself down on top of sheets that hadn’t been slept between for two days she was thinking about the man she’d just met. Since becoming involved with Lucy she had discovered that the absent head of Paediatrics at Barnaby’s Children’s Hospital was someone of note.

  He was referred to with respect and deference and she’d wondered why. Now that she’d met him she understood in part. He had a commanding presence...and a very attractive one, too. She might be disenchanted with the opposite sex but a man like him was so easy on the eye she wasn’t going to overlook that.

  She’d sensed back there in the ward that he’d had his doubts about her, would have preferred his daughter to be operated on by one of the regular surgeons, but if that was the case it was too bad. Yet she couldn’t blame him. It was clear to see that he was a loving father and it must have been horrendous to come home to find his daughter had been given emergency surgery in his absence by a stranger instead of a close colleague.

  There didn’t appear to be any mother in the family set-up, so he must be either divorced or a widower. Neither situation very unusual. Both the kind of set-up where a loving grandmother would be welcome.

  His mother had arrived at the ward just as Annabel was leaving and the two women had spoken briefly.

  ‘How is Lucy now?’ Mary Lewis had asked anxiously when they’d come face to face, and Annabel had thought how lovely it would be to have a mother like this kindly, chubby woman.

  She’d managed a tired smile. ‘Progressing satisfactorily,’ she’d told her. ‘Pulse and temperature normal. No post-operative complications at the moment. But as her father is only too aware, there is still a possibility of brain damage.’

  The colour had drained from the older woman’s face.

  ‘Oh, no!’

  ‘I’ve told your son that there were no signs of damage to the brain or the meninges, but one can’t be sure until the patient is fully awake and over the effects of the operation,’ Annabel had told her. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going off duty for a while to get some sleep.’

  The anxious grandmother had flashed her a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Yes, of course, my dear. You must be exhausted. Thank you for taking such good care of our little one.’

  ‘It’s my job,’ Annabel had told her, and as she’d walked through the hospital grounds to the utilitarian flat she was renting because she couldn’t be bothered to start house-hunting, she’d thought that there hadn’t been any thanks coming from Aaron Lewis. But she could forgive him for that. He would be on a knife edge until Lucy opened
her eyes. Praying that he would see lucid normality there.

  She’d been looking forward to being a parent herself not so long ago. But a fall on a wet tiled floor in a hospital corridor while moving at speed had sent her crashing down and had brought an end to all her hopes and dreams.

  If it had been in the first weeks after she’d found out she was to have a child, Annabel might have felt she’d had a lucky escape after her affair with an American doctor had dwindled and died when she’d discovered he had a wife and family back in the States. But at four months into the pregnancy Annabel had settled into the role of prospective single parent and had been eagerly looking forward to the birth of her child. Now, bereft and lonely after her shamefaced lover had returned to his homeland, she was doing the job she’d always done, using her skills to try to save or improve the lives of other people’s children, and all the time she was mourning the loss of her own baby.

  As she lay looking up at the drab ceiling the memory of her affair with Randolph Graham was preventing sleep. They’d worked together in Paediatrics in a big Middlesex hospital where he’d come to do a twelve-month exchange and Annabel, in her thirties, having spent all her working life caring for the children of others, had been happy to discover her pregnancy with the amiable American as her partner.

  But when he heard that the two of them had made a child, everything had changed. He’d confessed that he was married and that had been the end of the affair. After the first shock of his deceit and the realisation that she was faced with the prospect of becoming a single mother, Annabel had rallied and had been looking forward to having a child of her own. Since she’d lost it the days were empty and her heart like a stone.

  It was the reason why she’d moved north to get away from painful memories of betrayal and loss. But agonising parents such as Aaron Lewis need have no fear. Her dedication to the job was as strong as ever. No one would be able to say that she put her own heartache before that of others, and as an autumn sun poked its head through the curtains she rolled over and slept.